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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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Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Title: Alternate Timeline: The Cumming of Siphon - CH.6 - A Board Meetings Trajectory Part 3/3
Show: Arrowverse
Author: The Chemist & Jak O’Hara
Pairing: Isabel Rochev/Helena Bertinelli, Isabel Rochev/Helena Bertinelli/Maeve Nal/Damien Darkh/Morgan Edge/Maxwell Lord/Malcolm Merlyn
Codes: FF, M+F+, Anal, Death, DP, Oral, Rape, Rim, Reluc
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, Eliza Harmon, Hunter Zolomon, Maeve Nal, Nia Nal, Helena Bertenelli, Isabel Rochev, Damien Darkh, Morgan Edge, Maxwell Lord, Malcolm Merlyn, Nora West-Allen, Ramsey Rosso, Patty Spivot, Iris West, John Diggle, Ralph Dibney, Sue Dearbon
Summary: In the face of a total loss of the V-69 project, Isabel Rochev & Helena Bertinelli must quickly whip together a plan to get out of dodge before things come crashing down on them, but after they discover a chilling revelation, they enlist the help of Rochev’s virgin assistant, young Maeve Hannah Nal, to help speed things along, distracting the Board while the chopper arrives, but will this devious distraction plan detonate disastrously…or will something from deep within the beautiful half-naltorian be awoken as part of a much bigger picture?

“Oh…Christ…” The only words Isabel Rochev could utter after seeing what was left of the charred remnants of the scorched lab equipment.
Oblivious to her own stupefied shock as she walked in slowly; turning her head haphazardly in disassociated little jerks, glancing over the entirety of the waking havoc that smouldered before her.
All around her; the air held a suffocating whiff of asphyxiating chemicals so strong that stung her nostrils like the uninvited presence it was.
While most of the small fires were still searing out; there were still small patches burning in some spots while tiny pools of grey and black smoke drifted across the floor like sweat; the stench bit into her throat a little with every breath.
The lab's automatic fire neutralisation protocols had extinguished most of the largest blazes, but remote electrical sparks still jolted out of the cracks in the deepest recesses of the crater where the explosion that cut the feed had occurred, only a handful of minutes prior.
"Hooo-my god…” She said under her breath as she lent her rapidly weakening legs against the only table closest to the door that wasn't totally singed by the detonation.
But try as she did to devise a plan quickly, it became all too apparent that there wasn't much she could do at the moment; the damage was far too widespread.
She felt the pit of her stomach burn with fury at the thought of having to explain all of this to those overblown, idiotic board members, comprised of some of the most vainglorious and vile businessmen ever to crawl from the earth's pale muck to the top of their present illusory perches.
"That's it then. I’m finished…" She snapped her fingers together to herself without thinking.
The sound rang eerily throughout the destroyed lab.
"Gone. Just like that.." Her eyes closed, wincing momentarily as more smoke stung them.
Just then, the sound of broken glass crunched from under foot broke the CEO's fleeting moment of calm off to her right. She turned to see the slim youthful figure of Maeve Hannah Nal, Rochev's own personal assistant for the past year or so, quickly making her way down the hallway accompanied by someone just out of view with a worried look on her face.
Maeve was one of Isabel's few allowable eccentricities; coming from a small town background, she never expected to find herself working in the biggest metropolis this side of the eastern seaboard, and had impressed Rochev during her internship at the company. So much so that the CEO offered her an opportunity to stay on full-time, admitting that she needed someone competent enough to help run the company going forward.
She was also one of the few people who were for the most part; able to keep Rochev's ego-driven tendencies and prideful perfectionism from devolving into a full-blown frenzy.
Always eager to please, constantly motivated and driven by the needs of her superiors; the young maiden reminded Isabel much of herself at that age and had proven herself to be one of their smartest and most resourceful employees over the last year. Adding substantial results to the company's success in both domestic and international affairs.
But as the young girl stepped into the smouldering mess she too looked around the devastation personified. Her dark green eyes were wide with shock as she looked around.
Then from behind the petite assistant's form rose the more salacious figure of Helena Bertinelli, revealing she had followed young Maeve down from the board meeting to the otherwise bleak ruins of the room, she too obviously wanting to know the status of the situation as well.
"Helena," Isabel said surprisingly. "What are you doing here?"
Helena remained silent for a moment, giving the devastation in front of her time to sink in the exact same way Isabel had done moments before. Her eyes then lit up brightly when they found themselves resting back on Isabel.
"Figured you could use some support Izzy; at least for right now," she said over her shoulder, waving her shimmering ponytail of hair out of the way.
"Izzy?" Maeve questioned, more surprised than she would have liked upon hearing the name as her mouth fell instantly agape.
"Look, just..." She sighed, "Just give me a situation report Ms Nal, please," her tone turned beaten as she slumped her shoulders in defeat and scratched her head a little absently.
“Uh, right! Of course! At once Ms Rochev.”
As Maeve reactivated her damaged tablet for what it was worth and scrolled down to one of the instant replay tabs to grant her boss a first-hand look at what just happened, Isabel looked back towards her only friend and gave her a curt nod, followed by the silent mouthing of the words: "Thank you," to which Helena just smiled back at her and blew her a silent kiss to bring some much-needed levity to Izzy's day.
Maeve paused from her new duty to look up at her boss for a moment. "I suppose I should inform you of the statuses of the scientists then." Maeve looked up on the last word; it was structured as a question but came across more like a statement.
"Yes, If you'd please," Isabel answered, now growing a little visibly annoyed.
For all her success in the world of business, Isabel Rochev was never considered a woman who particularly cared for her fellow human beings outside of what she could gain from them. And that cold efficiency was what allowed her to achieve so much in her line of work. The suffering of others and the ramifications of her decisions always came as a secondary fleeting thought in the face of what she needed to achieve. And so, when she heard Oliver's plans with the Velocity Project and how much potential revenue could be made from it, well, she never even gave it a second thought, and now the aftermath of that decision was left fizzling all around her.
Maeve looked at her, hand tight on the arm of her suit jacket. She steadied herself to recap the repercussions. "They um, Dr Allen has been taken into emergency care, carried out on a stretcher a little while ago, a-apparently he managed to distance himself enough from the blast when it went off but has suffered some head trauma from after the initial explosion flung him across the room, oh yeah; and he has a few broken ribs as well. I..I've contacted his next of kin and filled them in on the events; they are on their way to see him right now," Rochev nodded in understanding.
"Alright, good," she said looking away slightly, "I'm sure to have some questions for him as to how the hell this went so wrong, and Dr Harmon?"
Maeve just sucked in her lips as she prepared to deliver the news.
"Dr Harmon's..." She said, "Dr Harm-," her voice was hoarse and cracked slightly, "...Dead...she's dead..."
The CEO just took in a huge intake of breath, letting it out slowly as she finally found her voice. "Well, that's most unfortunate," she exhaled deeply and rested back against the tabletop.
Maeve couldn't believe what she had just heard. Unfortunate?? A woman is dead because of one of her experiments! And she doesn't seem to care in the slightest!? Maeve recoiled in shock, swallowing down some of the disgust she'd accumulated at Rochev's response that had gathered in her throat; but still chose to say nothing.
"That's gonna be a Wrongful Death Claim, Izzy, easily," Helena pointed out, looking over at her as the two women looked up at the sound of her voice. "There ain't no way you'll be able to cover up the death of such a high-profile scientist; not in this day and age."
"I know, I know," Rochev said a little forcefully. "This mess isn't mine; Queen's the one who started this ludicrous project, so it'll be him who'll feel the hammer, not me." She shot a dubious look over her shoulder.
"But that doesn't mean you'll get off scot-free either," Bertinelli finished.
"Of course not," Rochev said, obviously in a world of her own. "He'll be hit with any kind of charges, but by the time word breaks on this one, it'll all be over."
"Ok so," Maeve said, still sliding her fingers on the device without looking up at either of the two women. "The power's been fully restored, but we're still waiting for the backup systems to be brought online; shouldn't be more than another second or tw-" The tablet lit up. "There we go, got it!"
Finally, Ms Nal was able to reacquire the necessary access to the aftermath footage recorded on the lab's cameras and as she began to watch it, her whole demeanour turned chillingly silent.
"Ms Nal? Is something wrong?" Helena said, trying her best to ease the ever-growing tension in the room.
"Um...unfortunately, there is Ma'am; uh...I'm not quite sure how to say this but it would seem that Dr Zolomon..." Maeve started, but Isabel cut in before she could continue.
"What is it?" She snapped before Maeve could say anything more, much to the number twos disappointment.
"It's not entirely clear how, but..." Maeve paused, what would come next would be no light accusation but she knew she'd have to speak up about it sooner or later. "It appears that Dr Zolomon wasn't killed in the explosion..."
"What?" Rochev said, eyes getting wider. "That's impossible!"
"Oh sweetie," Helena said to Maeve with a soothing tone, seeing her face turn almost as pale as hers. "You saw that blast first hand; no one could have survived that close to its centre."
"No, I'm serious, here j-just take a look at this! This is from precisely 1 second after the explosion began," explained Maeve as Ms Rochev and Bertinelli both looked down at the video. The camera was from the furthest corner from the heat and was positioned behind Dr Zolomon; from this angle, Dr Allen couldn't be made out clearly, save for the top of his short brown hair popping out from behind Ms Harmon's naked body, and as the explosion was showcased for a second time to the both of them, the assistant played it back and pointed specifically at Zolomon; they could all see how just as the first few white disintegration sparks began to break Ms Harmon apart, Zolomon's blue kinetic energy flared and dashed downwards, out of view of the camera towards what was presumably Eliza Harmon's miracle machine's production belt before it too was destroyed.
Taking a step back from each other, no one said anything again for some time until Rochev spun away and kicked a charred object carelessly with her foot, causing a metallic clatter that echoed up and down the adjoining hall before letting out an enraged scream of frustration.
Maeve flinched immediately like a deer caught in headlights as Helena merely looked down at the small object with detached curiosity.
"Inside voice, Izzy," Helena's voice carried with comical timing without turning her head from the small metallic object. Reaching it, she bent down to pick it up, then looked to the assistant to continue.
"If he isn't here then where is he?"
"That's the million dollar question Ms Bertinelli," Maeve said to Helena dryly before turning herself back towards her boss. "Ma'am, I don't want to jump to any conclusions but, I received this memo a short while ago and you should know about it."
Coming over, Isabel took the damaged and flickering tablet and looked at what it displayed. "What am I looking at here?" She asked of her right-hand woman. "It just looks like machine code."
"Yes," Maeve said, "Important machine code..." Her voice turned slightly sombre now.
Looking for a second longer, the CEO now realised just what she was looking at.
[ERROR: V-L-CITY-69-YIELD: INCOMPLETE]
[REASON: HEAT-CONTAMINATION]
[REQUESTED-BATCH-20,000,000: INCOMPLETE]
[NEW-PARTIAL-OUTPUT: 8,539,279]
[COOLANT CONTAINER STATUS: MISSING]
[HAVE-A-NICE-DAY: DR-HUNTER-ZOLOMON-:-)]
Confused at first; question after question began surfacing in Isabel's mind like a whirlpool; what exactly did this mean? Then she got it, it was the last production report from the 'Cumming,' and for the first time in anyone's memory; Isabel Rochev began to show all the classic signs of fear.
"Maeve..." Rochev said with a tremble in her voice. "Please tell me this is a malfunction..."
Maeve shook her head slowly; she had been wishing to god that it was, but she knew better. Looking at her boss now, she looked nearly identical in levels of fear to what Maeve herself was experiencing when Bertinelli spoke up.
"Uh? Wanna fill me in on what I'm missing here?" Helena said stoutly while looking at the young girl.
Gently biting her lip, Maeve turned back to look at the beautiful woman and placed the tablet back on the desk in front of her; clasping her hands nervously before explaining: "Uh right, so we have a machine here at Queen Consolidated created by Ms Harmon, sort of a miracle machine some might say called the Creative-Ultrix-Matter-Micronized-Intelligent-Nanite-Geographer machine or ‘Cumming' for short; that used to be in the corner of the room there," Maeve pointed to the still smoking slump of heated metal.
"Oookay, but that doesn't really answer my questi-" Bertinelli said but was cut off by Rochev.
"It was the only of its kind, the potential to create pretty much anything by reconstructing atoms into new combinations."
"New combinations?" Helena said, raising an eyebrow, "You mean like some kind of magic box?"
"More like a synthesizer," Maeve took back over, "And it's much worse than that."
"Since the V Project was such an expressive undertaking on paper, we opted to use this machine created by Dr Harmon as a means of saving cost on the creation of each of these renditions."
"Ok?" Helena said, "I think I'm following, but-"
"Batches were separated by one or two digits at a time. Meaning we only made about 10 of each version. But according to this data," Maeve said, looking back at the tablet, "It seems Dr Zolomon had been synthesizing this batch into the millions!?" Her voice pitched.
"Wait what?" Helena replied, "Millions? What do you mean millions?"
Rochev looked her friend in the eye. "It means this maniac knew this was going to happen and used the pending trademarked abilities we've provided him to make it look like he died in the explosion but really; he's made off with a couple of million doses of V in the coolant container!"
"But that's insane," Helena said, "Why would he do that? H-how could he have even carried that many out? Coolant containers aren't exactly a small matter."
Rochev thought about that for a second.
"His enhanced speed would have easily allowed him to escape unseen Hel, and each vial is only around the size of your thumbnail. And as for the why; I don't know," Isabel said, "Either way it doesn't really matter."
"Why's that?"
"According to the updated notes I received this morning from Dr Allen, the 68th rendition of the formula is purely temporary, lasting only around an hour on those who don't carry an active meta-gene and we vet all our scientists who work here as a standard precaution; they all came back dormant. So with no long-lasting effects, he can't do much with the time he has left.
Helena looked at the metallic canister in her hand; sure enough, the side read Version 68: Dark Matter residue 0.
"I see," she said with a small voice, "But that raises a chilling question."
Both Maeve and Izzy looked at her. "Well...He's basically a living battery now right? Batteries can't run forever; and if he really can't inject himself with any more serum to rejuvenate his energy, then that means he'll be looking to plug in somehow to recharge his abilities right?"
Maeve looked dumbfounded for a moment, tilting her head at the statement but Isabel's eyes widened at the realisation of what her friend was implying.
"Oh god..." She whispered, "You're right; if he can't inject himself, then he'll have to use..."
All three women turned pale at the thought, each of them turning silent for a long while.
"So, just to recap," the CEO finally asked, in a much more calculated tone, "We've essentially been manipulated into helping a borderline psychopathic killer and rapist create a stimulating substance that makes him faster than any means of human perception; and is now, out there," she pointed out the door to the hallway, "Running around, fully jacked up and loose in a city of almost 21 million men, women and children with a little over 8.5 million vials of the same highly volatile substance that has given him these abilities? With no way to find him and no possible way to stop him?" The explanation of the waking events were as thorough as they were bone-chilling.
"That...is...about the size of it, yes," Maeve struggled to admit while Helena Bertinelli simply turned her head to the backstepping Rochev.
The CEO took in a deep breath and exhaled, the act seemingly calming her down a bit.
She took in another long, deep breath while closing her eyes. "Alright," she said, taking charge, "Have security engage an emergency lockdown of everything from the second floor down; I want all exits cut off from this building."
This line of reasoning seemed to confuse Ms Nal.
"Lockdown the facility? Forgive me for saying so Ma'am, but I'm not sure I quite follow your train of logic; Zolomon's already gone? And he's taken every last vial left in the lab?"
Isabel sighed, apparently very disappointed in the lack of vision from her young lengthy assistant.
"And that is precisely what we need to contain Ms Nal; here take this," she threw the girl a small object she had pulled out of her pants pocket. "Call the number ending in 003, say: It's Always Raining in Philadelphia, and the clean-up crew will arrive in 15 minutes to strip the lab," the girl nodded and swallowed nervously.
"What about any witnesses that may have been coming down from the second or 3rd floors, or god forbid even in the elevator?" Helena said, chiming in constructively on the situation, much to the stunned look on Ms Nal's face.
"Right then, round up the first 3 floors of personnel Ms Nal and have them all come to the main office to sign non-disclosure agreements; all of the developmental projects will have to be moved to the applied scientist's department of course, by the time HR comes sniffing around," the CEO said flatly.
"How will you know if they've seen anything?" Helena asked, referring to the employees, skeptical as to how many eyes would turn on such an orthodox roundup like that would cause to the situation.
"Oh trust me, I'll know; reading people's true intentions is what's brought me this far," Isabel said, drawing a small smirk out of her friend.
"And what of the board upstairs?" Helena added with frightening calculus, nodding her head upwards slightly without breaking eye contact.
Rochev turned her head to Maeve and quickly said, "Ms Nal, also organize Mr Ramirez to bring the company chopper to the roof within 30 minutes, don't pepper me with excuses; just get it here, and once we've got things under control, we'll leave that way."
Maeve couldn't take it anymore; she broke off abruptly from her usual agreeable manner and spoke up. "Contain? Leave? Ma'am, with all due respect you can't possibly be serious; this is clearly out of our league; we've created a crisis on a level not seen since the Daximite invasion 2 years ago...M-my sister lives in this city..." She trailed off slightly, thinking back to the last time she had spoken to her sibling. "We have to inform the national guard or better yet-"
*SLAP!*
The blow was so unexpected from the left that it nearly took Maeve off her feet; the sharp sound of the slapping cut off the rest of her sentence as she lent to one side reeling her hands up to shelter her face.
Isabel stood still for a second, unmoving from her place, not showing a single emotion.
"For God's sake Maeve, get it together," Rochev said coldly, causing the girl to instantly shut her mouth. "Look around you; this is over, do not test my patience today."
"But, but-"
"Besides, would you really rather the alternative? Mass hysteria? Inducing a city, perhaps nationwide panic? People living in fear and we're the ones responsible? No, I didn't think so; now hurry along and make the arrangements. Am I making myself clear now?" the CEO asked, trying her best to remain as composed as she could.
Maeve turned red and started to stammer, "C-crystal c-lear M-yes Ma'am, I-I was...I mean we..."
She was just about to strike her again when Helene's voice spoke up from behind.
"If you're done trying to impress me Izzy, we're wasting precious time. Let the little girl go do her job."
Rochev turned around to the other woman and nodded solemnly.
Without any further words, Maeve Nal turned to leave to make the arrangements; stepping just outside of the room, sounds of an old flip phone could be heard dialling up, leaving only the two women of power alone together.
"Maybe you didn't need to be quite thaaat hard on her," said Helena, scrunching up her face in an almost childish fashion. Her friends looked slightly taken aback at her comment, and Isabel sighed.
"Yea, maybe not," Rochev kept her gaze on Maeve in the hallway.
"Hye, come here," Helena said sitting on a burnt science stool, outstretching her arm for her to take, she initially hesitated, but after her friend reminded her that all the cameras in the room had been destroyed, she took her gesture up with an unintended grin on her face and made her way over to her side, taking her hand in her own.
"Talk to me Iz; what's really got you so upset? I've never seen you this rattled before."
Izzy could feel herself tearing up again; the bitterness at the situation was weighing heavy on her. Helena put the canister on the desk beside them.
"I know it's not this shitshow that's got you so riled up, and I know you better than to think you give any kind of crap about what that lunatic Zolomon will do with the powers you've given him."
Helena tried to get her to look at her, but her unresponsive face was enough to say it all.
"So...What is it? And don't say nothing because something's got you scared Izzy; really scared, what's going on?"
Isabel knew that she couldn't admit to what was truly on her mind, even though it was tearing her up inside.
"I haven't changed that much Izzy; you can trust me, just like I've always trusted you." She offered her a warm smile.
Then, out of the blue, Rochev sat down over her friend's legs and gave her an immense hug.
Initially, Helena laughed softly at the brunette for doing something so ridiculous; she had never been one for hugs but quickly realised that her friend was actually sobbing silently through her body language.
"Hey hey, it's alright," she whispered in her ear.
"Nooo...it's not," Isabel felt her eyes start to well up with tears, something that she hadn't done in ages, but she couldn't help it; now in the embrace of the only soul she truly trusted, she realised that she was already here and that she herself had nothing to lose anymore by keeping it a secret.
"You shouldn't have come back Hel," the word came out on a soft whimper, as a tear trailed down her cheek and met Bertinelli's.
"We've played right into his hands; he drew you here today to keep me tethered."
Isabel hugged her tightly and held on for dear life.
"What? Who? What are you talking about Izzy? Who drew me here?" She whispered back as the air was crushed out of her lungs.
The embracing woman took a deep breath and tried to speak, but couldn't; the words wouldn't come. When they finally did it was in a fearful murmur.
"I can't Hel, h-he said he'd kill you slowly in front of me if today's project didn't go through...then do the same to me; by the time the sun falls tonight," Isabel said between deep gasps of air.
Helena's blood froze still in her veins; she could tell this was different. Isabel Rochev had never been a woman who was scared easily, and had received many death threats over the fallout of the Stillmore international takeover; it was just widely considered a distasteful part of the profession. But even so this...whatever this was, had her quivering with fear in the deepest marrow of her bones.
"Who? Who said this?"
This was it, all or nothing; if she couldn't trust Helena there was nobody else she could turn to. With a final deep breath, she told her, in the quietest tone she could manage.
"...Siphon..."
And after uttering the whispered words, Helena went ghastly pale; everything began to make sense since what she had failed to disclose to both the police last night and Dr Allen in the elevator this morning was that when she came across her father's body, slain like the pig criminal she knew him well to be for a long time, she found 4 pieces of paper attached to the end of each of the 4 arrows that had skewered her old man, and upon putting each together in a straight line on the floor, a cryptic message read; 'Siphon formally invites you to attend the Queen Consolidated's Board of Directors meeting tomorrow morning at 9 am, you'll want to be there Ms Bertinelli...' And almost like it were no more than a sickly joke, 4 grey surveillance photos of Michael were printed on the backs of each piece of paper; one of them, she recognised, was of him wearing the same clothes he had worn out that same morning.
Clearly, whoever this person threatening them was, had obviously been watching her for quite a while.
Her heart began to race with uncontrolled adrenaline as the two sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity.
After a brief sniffling fit, Isabel took her hand out of her friend's grip and pulled herself back up, fixing herself up as she did so.
"I'm so sorry Hel, he drew you here to get to me me," she said a little louder after drawing her head away. "I'm so...so so sorry," she began to cry softly, letting the tears stream down her cheeks like tiny rivers.
"Hey no, no no no, this isn't your fault," Helena reassured her friend. "If this boogeyman wants to play dirty, then we'll play dirty too; we'll figure something out; we could-"
Rochev stopped this train of thought within her friend before it amounted to much more than embers, "We can't do that Hel; he probably already has the cops in his pocket. You don't threaten an oligarch like me unless you know you can back it up; it'd be suicide; these mysterious types usually have all the bases covered before they play their first hand."
"Well, there has to be something we can do!" Helena tried once again, her voice shrill with worry. "I just got you back in my life, and I am not about to lose you again." Her words stunned the woman sitting face on over her legs.
"We just can't Hel," said Rochev. "Until sundown remember; they've already shown they know all our weak spots, all the things we'd do, everywhere we'd go, and...those to use against us, Michael against you and..." She stopped and caressed the side of the beautiful woman's face just beneath her own. "A-and you against me..." She smiled a fractional smile as if it may be the last time she'd get the opportunity, meanwhile, Helena closed her eyes, feeling her old part-time lover's touch in the exact way she had felt it oh so long ago.
"...You and I are just two pieces of a much larger chess game, and he's already toppled his first pawns."
She finished just as Helena's eyes opened from the familiar embrace and the two women kissed a long lingering, passionate kiss, making the room around them feel stuffy and unbearably warm, although to be fair that may just be the smouldering wreckage around them.
Finally, after the long final kiss, Isabel pulled away, and the two women opened their eyes slowly to gaze upon each other, like it was the very first time all over again. Helena was in awe, and a single tear rolled down Isabel's soft cheek as Helena said the words Rochev never expected to hear. "Then Run away with me, let's just go, somewhere where they'll never find us, I don't care where..."
"Whoa whoa slow down, run away?...With you?..." Isabel couldn't believe what was just said.
"What? You got someone better waiting for you with a private jet and an all-access pass to this ass?" Helena joked, a little louder perhaps than she intended to, no doubt to lighten up the atmosphere around them, but either way, she couldn't keep the smile off her face.
"But, our lives are here? You can't be serious? This isn't...you're kidding me right?" The CEO felt flustered beyond belief.
"I've never been more serious in my life," she assured, looking her friend dead in the eye, "Izzy, in the past 24 hours alone; I've had my father was murdered, your public image and life have been threatened, and we've both been coerced into being leverage for the other by a mysterious psychopath who will most likely make good on that threat if we stick around here, mash that perfect mess together and I think you'll find that I am not in any rush to hang around town."
"Well, when you put it like that, but what about Michael?" she asked.
"Ah fuck Michael," Helena scoffed, "The man can't even remember to make the bed sheets up in the morning. Let alone know how to please me you always used to." She grasped both Isabel's buttcheeks in both hands, drawing a small chuckle out of the woman as the last of her tears began drying up.
With an elated sigh, Isabel said, "They'll never stop hunting us if we leave, Hel; we'll never be truly safe. Is that really what you want? Hmm? A life on the run, never being able to settle down?"
"Look, I've been settled down before," Helena made quotation marks. "It's so dreadfully boring, and if being on the run with you means I get to feel like I'm alive again, then baby, I say start your engines, on your marks, get set and let's go." They were the words Isabel never expected to hear. The last sentence was said with such seductive and serene conviction that it made Isabel feel a rush of adrenalin flood through her body so strong that she could feel butterflies in her stomach again.
With a hungry grin, Isabel stepped back from Helena, as she stood up and ran her hands over the slightly smaller woman's body once more, making sure to soak up as much passion as possible, then with an excited giggle, Izzy said; "Shit, Hel, this is completely nuts you know that? What about the Board upstairs? We can't just up and leave you know, otherwise, we'll have them to worry about as well."
"Oh, you mean the group of middle-aged-half-aroused-power-addicted-white-men who are still all waiting to find out what happened down here? Good point, but not to worry Izzy, I think I've got an idea that'll work in our favour." Helena said, with a beautiful smile emerging on her almost goddess-like lips.
"And that iiis?" Asked the normally calm and collected Rochev.
"Simple, we just handle them the same way we used to handle class D-A back in the day."
Rochev turned her head slightly, her eyes widening a bit. "Oh no, oh come on, you can't possibly mean," she began, but before she could finish the question, Helena had already kissed Rochev's lips to distract her, which worked like a charm.
"Hey," she said, breaking the exchange to get her attention. "When are men at their weakest?"
Rochev couldn't believe what she was hearing; it was the exact same proverb she had told Helena half a hundred times back in their college days, and begrudgingly answered the supposed mantra with a bitter-sweet smile.
*Sigh* "Right after their post-coital comedooown."
"Mhmm, and how do we get them like that?" Helena asked again, in an almost euphemistic way.
Rochev's smile turned into an uncontrollable grin and for the first time that day, she really felt like things would turn out alright. "God you; you're impossible you know that?" She whispered, not wanting to give her friend the satisfaction of turning this around on her.
"Oh I-i'm sorry," Helena teased, "I can't quite hear you over the amount of dramatic irony with a side of perfect timing."
Rochev did her best to suppress a snicker.
"By draining them of all their worth! There, ya happy now you floozy shit?" The chuckle turned into light laughter.
"Oh I am, thank you," she said with a very satisfied tone. "Because you know who taught me that? Helped me become what I am today?"
"Uhh, Oprah Winfrey? Ellen DeGeneres?" Isabel answered, blatantly mocking her friend's voice.
"Oh shut up," Helena chastised lightheartedly. "It was you smartass; you helped me discover who I truly needed to be back then, you help me become someone else, you help me become, something else, and now it's my turn to help you do the same."
Rochev just stared into her beautiful brown eyes; in this lighting, they looked like fine brown silk.
"And here's the real kicker," Helena said, picking up the metallic canister off the table beside them. "Let's use this to really get them moving, you saw what it did to those scientists, and if this is the older model then there should be nothing gonna pop except the sounds of their packages; it'll make for some real hasty decisions being made in the upper management department if you know what I mean."
She knew what she meant, but seeing the playback of Ms Harmon in her mind exploding like that worried Isabel in ways she didn't wanna describe; Helena must have picked up on it because she rubbed her shoulder affectionately.
"Hey, I'm not gonna go boom on you ok," she smiled, "At least not like that," she winked. "Oh come ooon Izzy, don't tell me you're not at least a little curious after watching that up there? Come on, one last glazing for old time's sake and then we're both free!" She sounded excited, and that made Izzy happy to see.
She took a few seconds to gather her thoughts before blowing out a suddenly nervous breath, "Alright Hel; you win. We'll do it your way; it's just..."
"Just what?"
"I just haven't done anything like this with anyone since Robert's death, and now look at me and it's not like I've exactly had a lot of practice in between."
Helena turned her around by the shoulders while still holding her close, aiming her at the hallway.
"Worry not Ms big CEO; for if you think we need an extra incentive to get them peddling, well, why bother focusing all your attention on oiling up the used bikes when you can take the shiny new one out for a spin right away?"
Her point was aimed at the young Maeve, who was still currently in the hallway, looking as if she were frantically calling numbers trying to sort out Isabel's earlier instructions.
And with a last devilish smile, Rochev turned her head back around to the woman holding her in a loose embrace from behind, "With ideas like that babe, it's a wonder how I ever lost you in the first place?"

««⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻*⸻↯⸻*⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻»»

Meanwhile, back in the boardroom, the investor's patience had all but run dry. It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes since Rochev and Helena departed the office; and in that very short amount of time, tensions had risen so far beyond the point of irritation that an argument had broken out between Maxwell Lord, the acting Director of the Department of Extranormal Operations. And the head of the human-alien rehabilitation foundation, Morgan Edge, as to whether or not it was even worth trying to fix this calamity of a project.
3 members of the board, including Frank Chen, had already decided their losses were better off cut; and left the meeting to distance themselves from the inevitable bad publicity the rest knew was coming.
Only the two aforementioned tycoons, the late arrival Bryan Zamperini, of the newly established BiO-Hara Genetics. Damien Darhk, leader of H.I.V.E. Agriculture. Malcolm Merlyn, CEO of Merlyn Global Oil Group and Colin Thomas of the lesser-known Chemist's Society Co, remained.
"Oh? And let me guess," Morgan said. "I suppose the interim Director of the D.E.O. has a better plan for it then hmm? One he can wield in some well-regulated way to his little merry band of alien freaks?"
"Interesting perspective there from the man charged with relocating refugees to new homes; but in not so many words, yes, I do," he looked at Morgan with tense distaste.
"Don't try to get sanctimonious with me Maxwell! Aliens are a means to an end, and end might I remind you that the government pays me to find housing for in the interest of maintaining an 'All-Inclusive Earth," he made quotation marks with his fingers, obviously paraphrasing the obnoxious ad that had been replaying on TV the past two years.
"So let's be real here for a second; when it all comes down to it; they provide a feasible growth market for both your corporation and mine. The only difference between us is I'm more than willing to admit what they are instead of pretending to care for these freaks from space."
Lord was taken aback by Morgan's comparison, but he quickly regained his composure and responded. "Well, maybe if you really were as smart as you were arrogant, you'd see what I see. That the refugees are only refugees because we failed to protect what is most dear to them...their homes. So in any case-"
The two continued to argue for a few minutes more but each time they seemed close to finding common ground to stand on, the other would flare back up, coming across more viciously hostile than before.
"Look would you just shut up and think about what I'm saying for a minute Edge; if we had an advantage like this 2 years ago, the day the Daxamites invaded our planet led by the Worldkiller Reign, then maybe, just maybe," he paused for a second, putting one closed fist down on the table. "We could have given our brave men and women the fighting chance they needed. You've all seen the news reports," He said openly to all the remaining members. "We brought guns to a God fight, and we were justly as rightly slaughtered like the mere lambs because we lacked the power to save ourselves."
"Sounds like inadequate training on the D.E.O's part if you ask me," Morgen sneered his most rapacious smirk at Maxwell as received an abrupt striking across his face for his troubles.
The punch landed flush on Edge's jaw, sending him reeling to the side. He could hear Morgan's teeth clattering against the table as he fell backwards into his chair with a sickening crack.
The blow was felt by all members, though Damien Darhk simply laughed at this spectacle of immaturity.
"Awh man," he turned to Zamperini, "Doesn't matter what age they are, children's squabbles never cease to amuse me."
Bryan gave a light chuckle of agreement at Darhk's jesting while Morgan whipped a small drool of blood from the corner of his lips.
"You shut your fucking mouth Edge," Maxwell snapped, pointing a finger his way. "You don't get to make jokes about our efforts after locking yourself in your little doomsday bunker and you damn well sure don't get to..."
"Alright, gentlemen please! That's gotta be enough right? I see no need for all this animosity," said the surprise inclusion of Bryan Zamperini, aside his old friend Damien Darhk.
"I think we're all capable of a little civility here; we're all men of varying respectabilities, and this isn't any cause for confrontation. So why don't we all just sit back and show a little patience, aye?"
Maxwell turned a distasteful glare at the older man.
"Mr Zamperini, with or without all due respect, you're rather new in town, so I don't believe that affords you any say in this matter, and you..." He said, turning his gaze on Damien Darhk with full bitterness.
"Where were you!? Where were any of you when the sky broke open and thousands of beings from another world launched an assault on our very way of life!?"
The men all thought back to where they were during the fateful day that the surviving people of Daxam invaded their world, and how their elitist way of life afforded them protection and escape the way few people had that catastrophic day.
Perhaps symbolically, that day also held the greatest loss for the city itself in the form of protection from its most extraordinary hero; Supergirl, the final daughter of the dead star Krypton, who took up the mantle of the earth's protector after her cousin perished in a cataclysmic battle with a grey alien sporting bone protrusions all over its body only a few months earlier. A crime-fighting alien goddess who bravely stood up selflessly against the tyrant Reign and the entirety of the Daxamite armada.
A hero who cherished above all the freedom of all lifeforms be it terrestrial or extra who in her valiant final confrontation with the supervillainess, engaged each other in a brutal brawl that spiralled all the way into the upper atmosphere and out into space until an immense flash of light appeared in the sky and deafened all who witnessed its clash.
The next thing anyone knew, the centre of town was transformed from the neon-driven capital it was to a flaming hellscape as the body of the lifeless Kryptonian came crashing back down to earth, shattering the ground beneath and charring everything as far as 4 city blocks to ash. The impact killed hundreds of scared civilians who were caught in the crossfire, and the heroine herself did not fare much better but the day had been won.
While no-one knows the exact fate of the Worldkiller, it became apparent that Supergirl had successfully warded off the tyrant's tyranny, but at a heavy cost. After the carnage, an almighty silence once again fell over the devastated city as Supergirl's crumpled body was carried away by agents from the D.E.O, and days later when the news broke that she had been moved to the Fortress of Solitude to undergo what was described only as; 'A dip in the Kryptonian Regeneration Matrix,' the public was naturally reassured to know their saviour was at least alive. All be it out for the count with no way of knowing how long for. After all, it had already been 2 years and there was no new word on her recovery.
"So I ask you moneymen, with our one woman solar-powered deterrent down for the count, who will defend this fragile little society we call humanity the next time some intergalactic army works up the nerve to finish what the Daxams started?
There was a long silence...
"Look," Thomas said, addressing the whole group now. "The fact remains that the risks are always high when anything related to aliens or transhumanism is created. And if we're not careful about how we proceed with this 'Velocity-69 Project', then be it alien-fighting D.E.O. Subsidiaries soldiers, Privately owned corporations, or even any criminal factions around the world, the cost of getting this wrong, is too great; simply too great, we need to be smart here, so, I propose that we-"
But just before his suggestion could be made, the glass doors of the room opened again.
"Alright Mr Thomas, that'll be enough individual thinking out of you; thank you very much." Everyone turned their attention to the entrance as Ms Rochev, Helena Bertinelli and the young Ms Maeve Nal, entered the room; Maeve stumbled behind them, carrying a tray of champagne glasses with little gold rims around the top.
"I'll gladly take it from here."
Meanwhile, Helena Bertinelli took her seat on the opposite side of the table; who now held a brazen smirk on her face.
"About time; what the hell's going on down there?" Morgan asked with controlled outrage; but as he got up from his seat, Rochev shot him a warning glance and he hurriedly sat back down.
Ms Maeve also sat down on the opposite end of the table, staring down at the floor. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself for some reason.
"I see some members have already decided to leave," she said quietly. "Very well, they will be dealt with in due time."
That surprised some of the remaining members.
"That a threat Ma’am?" Thomas asked coldly.
She turned her gaze on him.
"No Mr Thomas, just a statement of fact, as for the rest of you or smart enough to stick around. There's not enough sugar in the world to coat this so I'll just come right out with it," Rochev's levelled voice turned serious as she began pacing down the side of the room with her hands behind her back. "I'm afraid there's been a little...accident..."
The atmosphere in the room turned pale. "What kind of accident?" Thomas asked, losing his focus on the woman as he followed her steps.
"A few...staff have suffered severe injuries," Rochev said tonelessly.
"What kind of injuries?" One of the men asked, clearly alarmed at the news.
The fierce feline stopped dead in her tracks and gazed up at the picture of Queen Consolidated's founder on the room's wall; seemingly pondering for a moment the immense financial and physical toll this project had already extracted upon those in this chamber.
For that matter, she thought of all the innocent people in the supercity who would suffer if she chose not to inform the board about Zolomon's little superpowered getaway out into the city.
She had the ability to stop it, and she knew it; all she'd need to do is just turn around and...no...no, her priorities had changed, she now had Helena to think about, she had just gotten her back, and she didn't care about this city anymore, besides, it wouldn't take long for the cleanup crew downstairs to finish up. Her Helena was all she needed now...and besides...hero had never a word she had associated with herself before, so, why start now?
Taking in a deep breath and feeling intent on her decision, Rochev turned around, dropping her hands to her side and addressed the room again; "The news is grim I'm afraid; Dr Bartholomew Allen has been whisked to hospital with some lacerations to his legs, as well as multiple broken ribs. And unfortunately, Drs Harmon and Zolomon seem to have perished in the blast," she loosely pointed to the centre of the table where the holo-projector was still showing relative static.
The men all sat in complete silence, looking down at the table with a mixture of shock and disbelief. All the same, they each gave Rochev a cautious nod in response to her solemn announcement.
"Yes I'm afraid, we’ll have to deal with this quietly of course; if what we've witnessed here today were to get out and into the public eye, each and every one of us will be held accountable; they'll brandish us transhumanist, terrorists, oligarchical war criminals, and traitors to the establishment; all because of this silly little experiment."
"Sweet shit..." Maxwell Lord said with his mouth agape.
"I know, I know," Rochev said, turning her attention to the men in front of her once more, “Now, if you'll each take one of these and sign the bottom."
Maeve started handing out papers, one after the other, without reading them; upon each read the all too familiar writing every businessman hopes to never see: Non-Disclosure Agreement.
"A Confidentiality Document Isabel? Really?" Morgan Edge said, clearly still festering sceptical disdain. "Is this honestly necessary?"
"Of the highest order," Rochev answered with a small smile.
"What about the legalities? You can't make this thing binding can you?" Malcolm Merlyn asked casually.
"Oh I can, and I have," Rochev said with the crispness of a demon ready to take out its many frustrations upon a few poor bastards who'd dare to cross her.
With the room mostly onboard for the first time that day, Maeve finished passing out pens.
Everyone else remained as hesitant as each other; it seems no one wanted to sign the document. Morgan even went as far as to scratch a line through his piece of paper, only to be stopped short by Rochev's hand appearing over his pen.
"What do you think you're doing?" The CEO demanded.
"I'm not signing this shit. This is your mess, not mine."
"My mess!?" Her voice snapped a whole decibel higher.
The room once again fell silent; each and every face stared intently at Rochev and her patience was running paper-thin now. She had so many more important things on her mind to consider than these pathetic men's egos; she wanted only to wrap this up and get the hell out of dodge with her beloved Bertinelli, not stuck here putting up with their debates and juvenile bickering.
She took in a frightening breath through her nostrils.
"Morgan...you're failing to recognise that each and every person's names are tied to this. Each and every one of you bought into this project, and unless you brainless baboons have already forgotten let me remind you; thanks to Robert's last will coupled with that idiotic son of his failing to show up today. That I and I alone own 51% of this company, so I have final say in any and all decisions the company makes. Do I make myself clear?" Rochev said, leaning forward on the desk with both of her closed fists in a strict but suggestive way.
She finally let the tirade trail off after that last sentence, just when Malcolm looked her straight in the eye.
"And what of all the capital we put into your failed endeavour?" He asked the question that was festering on each of their minds.
She recomposed herself and got her anger under control as professionally as always. "Naturally, it will all be returned to you with no positive dividends, obviously."
"So what you're saying is basically that you've lost all our money in this deal," Damien Darhk said, his voice rising significantly.
"No, Mr Darhk, what I'm saying is that we've hit a temporary setback here but no long-term unsalvageable damage has been done," Rochev countered calmly.
"No long-term unsalvageable damage?" Malcolm chimed in. "I find that to be a very interesting perspective given that two of your main scientists are dead and all your research has been lost."
Keeping a lid on it, she turned to her next convincing challenge.
"More scientists can always be brought in to fix whatever doesn't currently work; that's how progress is made. The families of the dead will be compensated accordingly, and the research is all backed up on our servers. The facts speak for themselves, Merlyn." She squeezed her closed fists tighter on the tabletop in an attempt to keep her temper reigned in at this point.
"So unless you have anything constructive to add may I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself. The rest of you, too," she said loud enough for every possible weak point of resistance left in the men to be ironed out flat.
"And why should we?" Edge continued his heated verbal sparring at her, determined to keep the conversation alive long enough to find an out-clause for them all. "You're the one who lost all our money."
"And unless we agree to this, we will all burn for this!" Rochev finally snapped, yelling the final sentence through clenched teeth.
No one spoke; no one dared to utter a word.
Seconds passed in silence but with each one, a thought resonated in the men's minds and focused their displeasure.
"Then what exactly are you proposing, Ms Rochev?" Damien asked flatly.
Rochev blinked twice and her chest tightened up. Who could be this unlucky bastard to see her speech unravel like this?
"What I'm proposing, established members of this board, is a little patience and understanding of the complexities of creating an entirely new means of human recovery. This is not some average store drug we are producing here. This will be the most productive medical breakthrough of our time. A medication that will not allow a person to die from any illness if administered in time, not even cancer, and to create something like that will take more time and proper vetting."
This was not the answer anyone wanted to hear, but somehow Rochev managed to keep her composure despite their wavering expressions.
"Now, from looking around that's your hesitant faces...I predicted some of you would find this to be an unenticing option, so, there is one alternative I can offer you if you're willing to keep an open mind."
"And what alternative would that be Mistress Rochev?" Bryan Zamperini spoke up for the first time in a while from his seat beside her.
Rochev smiled at him through the false pleasantries that had become her hallmark expression as of today and bent down to whisper something in his ear.
The old man's eyebrow rose in surprise at her words; her perfume alone was enough to get anyone's head swimming with the delectable scent it emanated.
"Simple, a chance to run things yourself."
"You're selling out?..." Edge shifted, and his entire demeanour stiffened.
Rochev smiled at him once more through those luscious lips, then looked back up, turned to face them and said: "Yes I am, well, more accurately I am prepared to offer you the chance to own my 51% share of this company so one of you may run it with Oliver as you see fit when he returns."
They couldn't believe what they were hearing.
"Bullshit!" Edge said, "Why would you give up being in control of a Fortune 500 company? Just so one of us could step in and run it instead?"
Rochev didn't bother to answer that; she just stood still, faced the board members and stared for a second before she asked: "Do any of you have something to live for outside of your profession?"
None of them said anything; they were all far too caught off guard by the inquiry.
"What an awfully strange question to ask this early in the morning Ma'am, something you want to tell us perhaps?" Damien asked.
"Yes...It is..." She replied, slightly absent after letting her gaze rest on Helena Bertinelli.
She centred herself back up; as if suddenly remembering when she was.
"My apologies, ehem..." Her voice suddenly came back to her like a small whisper through a crack in a door.
She watched as their expressions mirrored each other as they came to the realisation of how significant the opportunity was for all of them.
"No thanks, I'm not lending any more capital to this just so it can go bankrupt in 6 months' time," Merlyn announced as he brushed some invisible dust from his coat sleeve.
"And as you well shouldn't," she said, surprising everybody. "My share isn't for sale, least not by any conventional means that is," Rochev smirked a wicked grin crossing her face.
"Then would you care to enlighten us on how exactly we could possibly acquire such a generous offer Ms Rochev?" Edge asked in a serious manner, but one that bordered on interest rather than scepticism.
"Oh, I was thinking something slightly more...off the record," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Surely you're not suggesting what I think you're-" Voiced Malcolm, mildly amused.
"Very astute Merlyn; let's get this clear right now; what I'm suggesting is purely in the interest of business, nothing more."
"Raise your hand if you've ever seen a Pornhub video start like this before," Darhk mocked but his face betrayed no real surprise. She ignored him.
"A little challenge between the 6 of you..." She smiled at them all and started pacing around the table. "I'm curious to see which of you can last the longest in a certain erotic practice against me, Ms Bertinelli, and my petite little assistant Ms Nal over there." She gestured to Maeve at the far side of the room, much to the right-hand girl's chagrin.
"The goal's simple; whoever can last the longest...will win my percentage in the company and partner with Mr Queen when he returns from whatever brothel he's currently slumming in."
"That's crab-shit Rochev," Edge said, "You don't have the authority to-"
She shot him an icy glance and he froze.
"I think you'll find that I do, I run this company, despite that idiotic son of Robert’s foolish antics, I am the one in control here and if I say I can then it is written scripture to the rest of you, do you understand!" Her voice had been rising steadily throughout the whole sentence, increasing with it was the intolerant fury that was stoked like fire by each insolent question these men asked.
"And the losers?" Colin Thomas said, taking her attention swiftly off of the previous question and on to the new one.
"Simple again," she seethed under breath, "The losers all sign the document, and are then free to leave the building," she said with a smirk.
The wide eyes around her stared on in shock.
She knew it was the be-all and end-all of bluffs but she no longer cared; the project was dead, as was one of the scientists, one was in the wind, and the other in intensive care, but it had been Helena's idea, insisting that all it would take was one...just one vote in her favour, just one of them to side with her and the others would fall in line like puppets to the puppetmaster. And once they all drank to a toast of success, well...then it would make things all too easy after what she and Helena had put in the liquid...
"Ah, so it's to be a test of endurance, is it Mistress?" Bryan Zamperini asked of all people; shocking the rest of the room into silence. "Very well then, I'll take a crack at ya," he said, stepping up out of his chair and turned towards the shorter woman with confidence in his posture.
"Whoa whoa, hang on Old Man!" Colin Thomas's voice boomed with invigorated macho energy from beside him. "What makes you think you're the only one who's interested in her proposal?"
Bryan chuckled, "No offence intended Mr Thomas but don't you think this stunning specimen might be a little out of your league?" His brazen taunt seemed to rile the investor to his feet like some kind of schoolyard rivalry.
"This coming from the guy old enough to be her grandad?" Thomas snapped back, now equally as confident in his posture.
"Wooo, scathing answer."
Rochev frowned at both of them and looked back to Helena, who gave her an unspoken wink in reply, before turning her own gaze to Merlyn and Darhk, silently laying out the pairings of her plan.
"Fine, then, I'll take both of you on if you think you're up to it..." Her open-ended challenge caused the men to look at each other briefly before turning their attention to her once more.
"Spitroast huh?" Thomas offered casually looking her up and down. "Heh, Alright then," He offered back with a promising smile. "As long as this geezer doesn't slow me down I'm game."
With that, she started curling her finger for the men to come at her and sat up on the table.
"Quite the enticing offer," Helena said to Merlyn and Darhk with a little glee in her voice. "Wouldn't you agree?"
"Hardly," Merlyn snorted, turning his gaze to hers. "I've no interest in running this embarrassment; she's partnered with the wrong people if she thinks some juvenile challenge will be enough to dissuade me from this catastrophe."
"I think hell must have frozen over; since I find myself agreeing with you for once," Darhk said to the astonished Malcolm.
"Sex is no substitution for sloppy performances," the mobster stated, actually agreeing with Merlyn's comment.
"Sounds like you just need better sex..." Said Helena with every fibre of her being pushed into a seditious suggestion of seduction.
Now Darhk was the one perusing her porcelain features with curiosity. "Ms Bertinelli," he said, playing along, "Is that any way to talk to an old acquaintance of your father's?" Darhk asked, his tone returning to steelie clam.
Helena locked up, suddenly reminded of how void her world had become in such little time by the mention of her father's name and the ever-present fact that he was now gone.
Merlyn must have noticed the shift in her disposition because he enquired the change even further. "Bertinelli? You alright?"
Helena let out a slow, hollow breath, struggling to stay composed and keep herself from breaking down. "I-i'm fine..." She said, trying to remind herself that this was important, her way out with Izzy. Then an idea struck her, it wasn't pretty, but she knew it might be the only way to ensure their safe passage.
"Ehm...No, Mr Merlyn, I am not fine, my...my father's dead..." she said, straining to bring out the words for fear that she'd have to finally accept they were real.
"What!? No way!" Darhk said, shocked. "Awh...I always kinda liked Frank." His manner mirrored a child who had just been told some bad news.
Malcolm Merlyn just looked on stunned by the news, his thoughts running wild with memories of his old business partner. "You are joking, right?"
"No..." She said, "I'm not; my father's really dead."
"But...how? What...where the hell is he?" Merlyn asked, stupefied with disbelief at the news.
"I...I don't know..." her face sagged to a saddened frown line.
"Now wait a minute," said the dark-haired man, "Frank owes me a lot of money from our start-up dealings, you know that right?"
"Yes, I am aware..." she replied, trying to hold back tears of remorse for her father's death. Playing her part to perfection.
"Well then," Darhk said with a cruel smile spreading on his lips, "Being the successor of his fortune you are, how do you propose we go about taking care of his debts?"
Helena waited a moment before answering, then looked to Merlyn.
"I'll give you a 1-time proposal that Frank Bertinelli would never have had the guts to offer you," she replied with a steeled-faced expression, "I will sell you Bertinelli Construction and all of its assets." Both men's eyes widened.
"You hear me? I'm talking all of my father's debts paid with interest if you'll indulge me the way those two are with Ms Rochev," she jerked a thumb over to Isabel and her newly acquired frisky tag-alongs.
"Very well then, Ms Bertinelli," Merlyn said with a chuckle. "You've got a deal."
She smiled and looked towards Darhk.
The fedora-wearing man threw his hands up, "Hey, you don't need to convince me; ya had me at better sex," he quipped with a sly smirk at his smarmy competitor.
"Excellent," she said, "Come on then," she said, leading them to the other side of the table right opposite Isabel and her two busybodies.
"Fancy seeing you here," Helena quipped to Izzy from across the space.
"We really must stop meeting like this," Rochev replied, bowing her head in an effort to hide the slight blush in her cheeks.
Helena gave a polite little curtsey as she approached the end of the table just for the hell of it.
"Maxwell, Edge," Rochev's voice suddenly beckoned the last two men sitting down at the far end of the table, nearest Mr Queens' couch.
"You two may have my assistant back there," she indicated towards Maeve who had at some point tucked herself away in the darkest corner of the room, likely hoping to have been forgotten. "Careful though; she's a little delicate."
Both men turned and seemed to notice the younger girl with devious grins on their faces and Maeve gulped.
"Hey, Rochev!" Damien Darhk's surprising call came from across the small space now separating the two women's groups. "You'd better watch yourself around this one...I've seen him in action before a long time ago and he could tear you apart!"
"Your concern is touching Damien," she replied, "But I think I have a pretty good idea what I'm getting into," she said, as she felt the man in question's hands wrap around the backs of her thighs and the next thing she knew she was lifted up into the air.
"Woah!" She gasped in surprise, "You're a lot stronger than I first thought."
"Heh, Let's just say I've had a lot of experience with this over the years, Mistress Rochev," he replied with a grin that made her knees go weak. His Aussie accent came out as rough as a shot of whiskey with every syllable.
This close, there was something oddly alluring about the way he smelt, some inclination of attraction that began sparking every neuron in her brain like a christmas tree being lit up the night before.
"AH! Mmm! S-so, feel something you like then?" She sizzled back as she felt his hands fondling her ass.
"I just might," he smiled up at her as she leaned her weight back onto his hands.
"Surely you don't think just a little spanking will be enough to impress me do you?"
"That a challenge, Mistress Rochev?" Zamperini chuckled to himself.
"It might just be," she teased the man's words back at him. Holding her up like a fucktoy as Thomas massaged the sides of her frame with his hands.
But when Zamperini slammed Rochev down onto her back along the table, in the space between Thomas and Darhk's now vacated seats. The head of the Chemist's Society Co did not take kindly to the selfish advancement.
"The fuck old man!? I-" He shouted but the old man ignored him as he tore open her white shirt beneath her pinstripe blazer to expose her black laced bra below.
"Now isn't this pretty," he teasingly observed. "Never can go wrong with lace lingerie."
"You like it?" she asked him coyly as he ran the fingers of one hand down the inside of her stocking-clad legs.
"Oh, I do~" he noted in a flirtatious voice, drawing a smile out of the stern CEO as he ran his hands up and down her cheek and began to kiss her neck; as she laid back down after feeling his hands tracing the outline of her covered breasts, he applied light pressure on the cups so they'd rise up from beneath.
He worked his way down her abdomen with immaculate precision, kissing various parts of her stomach on his way trailing down, as he got closer and closer to his next target. Her suit pants came off with the most minimal of resistance and when he reached her black lace panties; she felt his warm breath singeing the thin material as he kissed the fabric between her legs.
"Good God..." He said speechlessly, as he pulled the expensive cloth aside and stared at the sight before him.
"Thoughts Mr Zamperini?~" She purred in a quiet voice, feeling a rush of pleasure in him calling her Mistress.
"Utterly flawless in every way~," he said before meeting her gaze.
His kind words of flattery brought a smile to the girl's face the way she used to smile back in college.
The old man could tell this was a woman of immense prowess; so strong and impetuous that anyone could tell she was not to be trifled with. Yet there was something beautiful about her too, something entrancing, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Likewise, she found herself captivated by the aura with which Zamperini carried himself. A mixture of arrogance, cunning, and charm all occurred to her. He was different from all the other men at this meeting but in a subtle way. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she felt an undeniable similarity to the way Robert would tease her for some puzzling reason. Perhaps it was his age being similar to Roberts? Or maybe it was-
The thought was interrupted as Zamperini gently parted her lips back with both thumbs and twitched the tip of his tongue against the soft pink flesh of her cunt, enjoying the sweet taste of her sexy juices.
"Oh Ah!" She suddenly shouted as her eyes stretched wide and her body shivered against him. "Oh god yes! Lick me! Fucking lick me!"
Without delay, he obliged; though she did wonder if under different circumstances the old man might play with his food a little more, especially when he was dealing with a woman as erotic and sexy as she knew herself to be. However, it was more likely that he simply understood what this was. This was a battle of raw might! And in power plays, you played by different rules.
Ignoring everything else happening, Bryan focused on his task, which was in turn rapidly speeding the gorgeous woman towards her first proper climax in years. She moaned and tossed her head as he did his best to harmonize the tongue thrusts of his tongue with her soft moans.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh God! Ohhh!" She winced, curling her back up at the feeling of the hard oral swirling she was feeling. It was so good! The heat in her pussy rose so high; she was burning up!
"Oh yeah, nice one!"
Zamperini looked up across the table to see Damien giving him a thumbs up. He had the biggest grin on his face he'd probably had in years watching his old friend putting the sensitive pussy of the CEO on display like this.
"Don't you dare stop!" She begged, "Deeper, deeper!" She whimpered with desire as he buried himself into her delectable hole, quickly bringing his focus back to the sweet little recess his darting tongue was now lapping at.
All of a sudden; a fire started bubbling up in her loins; a fire she hadn't felt in years and he quickened his pace faster & faster with each full lap he made around her wetness.
“Fuck! Yes! Keep eating me, you motherfucker!” Isabel cursed, feeling totally out of control and frantic as she now thrashed about on the surface.
Despite the appearance of him operating in top gear, the old man somehow went even faster until he felt the girl's walls start to tighten around his wet muscle as her eyes closed and her back arched off of the table.
"Cum woman~," he said with a sensual demand. "Cum for her~," he repeated in a whisper and sped up his pace; building up speed and snapping his head back and forth between the top and bottom of her pussy, by the time he felt her entire body tense from him; the girl screamed with a primal hunger as her walls spasmed thanks to his efforts and she let loose her ebbing cum for him.
"Ooooohh!! OH!!! OOOHHHHH!!!" She screamed; much louder than her small frame ever could have ever suspected.
For a second or two, his vacuum-sealed mouth remained latched to her freshly vacated dripping pussy before popping it off as her state of post-orgasm bliss continued for an appreciable space of time.
"That's one," he said to the board's other members who were all staring awestruck at the older man; even Colin had ceased his advances towards the CEO temporarily. Only Morgan and Maxwell still remained still, watching the proceedings from their places; "Better get a riggle on lads if you wanna have a chance at bagging this project for yourselves."
Rochev's mind finally began to come too, as the adrenaline and pure euphoria of her orgasm subsided.
"Wow, that was...unreal," her breathless voice was almost non-existent.
"Not bad for a brainless baboon huh?" He asked, receiving a nod of affirmation from the laid-out CEO before him.
"Not bad...at all..." Rochev purred breathlessly, bending forward so that her face was only inches from his. "Though that may have just been a fluke," she remarked coyly.
"Well then, wanna try again? You know, in case it was a fluke?"
She appeared pretty breathless after that intense climax, but quickly regained her composure and smiled, her eyes defiant. "After the promise you displayed, I'm inclined to agree, ready when you are."
"Not so fast," Colin said, seemingly coming back to reality and was not about to play second fiddle to the old man's insolence again.
"Move aside; you had your chance with her!" Thomas stated, reaching down and whipping out his pale white cock; the mere sight of its 8-inch girth was enough to make Isabel blink with surprise, clearly falling victim to her miscalculations and assumptions when it came to these men.
"Well boys, what are you waiting for? A handwritten invitation?" She addressed Malcolm and Damien as they were left staring like deer in headlights, gaping over Isabel's shivering body. "Come on, dicks out let's go; my plane leaves in 50," she said while biting her lip with renewed anticipation after watching her lover cum like that.
Helena's jaw fell to the floor when she saw what the results of her little experiment had wrought.
"Oh wow..." She breathed in as she took in the sight of their boners standing up like vast tree trunks.
Her hands stumbled upon both members as she rose to her feet off the table; Darhk stayed behind her, tentatively rubbing his hands over her tightly covered backside. He reached up to the nape of her neck with one hand and pinched her dress zipper, pulling the metal clip down the line until her luscious cleavage was freed for them to enjoy.
Now standing before her admirers like a piece of living art, her shapely body had never looked more beautiful to Isabel or the men, clad only in the simple golden necklace her husband had given her; and her bloodshot dark panties; the attention of the men was not focused on her bling, but rather, on her cute asscheeks and her magnificent breasts.
She pouted slightly, dropping to her knees between the two men; her eyes glistened at the up-close look of Merlyn's cock. "I think I'll start with...Mmmmm...this one!"
Wasting no time, she reached around and gently took the pulsing dick into her grip and Malcolm closed his eyes as he felt her other hand start to rub at his tight scrotum. Looking down with disappointment as he now realised she meant she'd start with Darhk's manhood rather than his.
"Kiss my dick bitch," he instructed, just as both her hands quickened their stroking on the two men's crotches, slowly but surely working up to the base of their lengths.
She moved forward and kissed the tip before popping him into her mouth. Darhk exhaled in appreciation as she gently suckeled at the head of his organ. The dark-haired woman knew the importance of her role in this impromptu event, so didn’t keep the excited men waiting for too long. The gorgeous girl bobbed her head a few times, working just about half his fair-sized tool into her oral cavity before popping off his prick and quickly taking Merlyn's cock in her mouth and right down her throat.
"Holy shit," he groaned as his head arched back, hanging from his neck as this pristine piece of petite Italian ass went to town on his dick.
Constantly gliding those insane lips down the majority of his length, Helena sprang back up until only his crown was left inside the wet embrace of her mouth before popping off of it as well and turning back to Damien's once more.
“You like this dick don’t you,” Damien Darhk asked with a cocky smile.
“Mmhmph,” was all Helena could reply with before jerking her clamped lips off his head; only to swirl her tongue around torturously.
“Hey, don't forget about this too,” Malcolm said, snapping his figures together and pointing at his shaft from above.
“Mr Merlyn, didn't anyone teach you it's rude to rush a lady?” The dark-haired horny woman replied as she shifted her head in his direction.
Helena pivoted slightly so that she was now facing the well-dressed man and repeated the same trick with him. After sucking on his lengthy tool for a dozen or so seconds she pulled away from him and turned nearly 180 degrees from her starting point to face back to Damien. It was like watching a dance, Damien on the left, Malcolm on the right and Helena in the middle; although their movements were much more erotic than anything they'd ever let onto a dancefloor.
"Yeah, suck it bitch,” he encouraged the beautiful lean Italian. Her head moved up and down his shaft and then to Malcolm's; a thin veil of saliva coated his shaft before she licked the base of it with her soft pink tongue.
"Ah to hell with it; this day's already been a catastrophe," Morgan Edge finally spoke up, being one of the only two beside Maxwell Lord still without any female company. Maxwell himself had been sitting up on the edge of the table for the past couple minutes, showing a remarkable amount of restraint for someone with his philanderer reputation but that was more than likely due to his failed attempt to acquire the velocity project for official use of the D.E.O. minutes before.
"Can't get any worse can it," he said aloud as both men then turned their attention to the very nervous-looking Ms Nal behind them.
"Hey, you there! Hey!" He snapped his fingers to Maeve, who hadn't moved a muscle from the shadow she had seemingly become a part of since handing out the NDA's, obviously hoping to have been forgotten by the quorum of aroused men.
"M-me?" She said, a little stunned that he had chosen her out of the other two fine options around her.
"No; I'm talking to the other pair of walking ovaries; of course, I'm talking to you! Who else would I be talkin' to?" Edge said, pointing at her with his eyes as well as his fingers.
Maeve didn't know what to say to that; she just sat in a perfectly straight-up position staring right back at him while he began to grow a little impatient with her unnecessary resistance.
"Why don't cha come over here so I can have a better look at those thighs of yours? I don't bite," Edge said, curling a finger for her to come closer.
Maeve's face turned white in the dark, and the feeling of utter abashment overtook the 21-year-old, paralyzed by anxiety. Unluckily for her, Edge was not the only one interested in her youthful splendour, but so too was the notorious gaze of Maxwell Lord, the head director of the biggest extraterrestrial monitoring organization on the entire planet!...and if they found out that she was half...
"Oh uh, n-no thank you Sir that's alright," Maeve stuttered as her face quickly grew redder with embarrassment. "I-i'm quite alright over here just spectating."
Edge snickered with a slight smirk, "There seems to be some kind of misunderstanding here; I'm not asking you sweet thing. I'm telling you to GET OVER HERE NOW!"
Maeve practically flinched, as did some of the other orgy participants who were rods deep in Rochev and Bertinelli's tanned & white meats.
Looking over to Rochev for support, she found none; instead the icy cold gaze of the frightening CEO shot right through her, freezing Maeve solid in place. She could almost hear her boss's words in her ear: 'Harden up and get on with it, convince them to sign; or you get nothing.'
So reluctantly, Maeve stood up from her hiding spot.
"Alright alright, sorry," Maeve said quickly, trying to quell the man's temper as she began to clamber over to the debonair Edge with one weary step at a time. She already knew without a shadow of a doubt in her mind that he had no intentions of stopping with just her curves...
Maeve just nodded her head in acceptance. Actually, the real reason she wanted no part in this was due to her heritage. See, she was not exactly a human in truth as everyone around her was; even though she appeared as one, she was actually a human-alien hybrid who came from a race of prophetic visionaries called the Naltorian, a race of humanoid species from the planet Naltor.
And because of that and her family's long-standing bloodline held the gift of clairvoyance, a rare and formidable gift that could be passed down from mother to daughter, Maeve believed wholeheartedly that she was next in line to inherit the role of 'The Dreamer' as her mother put it. A powerful and highly respected member of the Elder Council of Naltor tasked to protect the shared visions of all Naltorian conscience while they slept from an astral plane of existence called The Dreamscape from the dreaded Eramthgin. A being of infinite unrest prophesied to exploit the dreams of the innocent and twist the minds of the amorous individuals to her own salacious whim; til her victims could no longer tell what was in fact a dream, and what was not...
She had been preparing for this her entire life and swore she would protect her kind and her sister Nia from this evil entity when it arrived...if the two ever had a chance to reconnect that was. She hadn't spoken to her younger teen sister in several months due to a falling out the two had after their mother sadly passed away last year.
And with the loss of her sister to her, she wasn't exactly thrilled to participate in such lewd acts of self-deprivation for the pleasure of others. Since in all honesty, despite how much she had prepared for the role of Dreamer, she hadn't even been tempted enough to masturbate with herself, let alone contemplate what such devious acts might do to her powers, or if she'd even be able to attain them at all if she went through with such a blasphemous means of faculties.
"Miss Nal, Please, allow me to apologise for this barbarian's small-minded blow-up there," Maxwell Lord spoke up as she arrived at his side from across the room, standing in between the two men who seemed to be already undressing her with their eyes as she stood there.
While Edge was almost a perfect caricature of a sleazebag boss; Maxwell Lord instead came across far smoother than his competition, but then again she figured that had to come with the job of protecting and relocating displaced aliens on the daily, the edges of his tailored business suit definitely gave off that impression as well.
“Please if you will,” Maxwell said, gesturing to Maeve to sit down on the infamous leather sofa in the corner of the room Oliver had made synonymous over the years with his many acquaintances who came and went in the office.
“Allow us to continue our discussion there, and finish this as well; he added, referring to the drink she held in her hand. "It would be such a shame to miss out on a good show,” he chuckled.
"See ignoramus; you catch far more bees with honey rather than vinegar."
Edge just scoffed and followed the young woman over to the sofa, staring at her incredible butt the whole way over.
About halfway there he could no longer help himself, and could already feel himself getting hard under the fabric of his trousers.
*SMACK*
The sound echoed across the room and Maeve felt a sting as she whipped around to find herself staring directly into the eyes of the older man who had just slapped her across the ass with his tie.
"Ow!" She recoiled, "That really hurt..."
Edge laughed, "Good, cause we're just warming up; take a seat."
“Ohh fuck, you've certainly got a knack for this Bertinelli, I'll give you that much,” Merlyn remarked breathlessly.
“Aww,” Helena cooed. “I bet you say that to all the pretty girls you fuck behind your wife's back.”
Merlyn just smiled before grabbing Helena's head and plunging his member deep down her throat.
"Oooooh boy," Damien said comically and took a step back.
She immediately began gagging and her eyes began swelling with tears as Merlyn began to shake her head roughly against his erection; hardening further from the effort as she struggled to fight it off.
By the time she pulled herself away, her stomach was churning, and she had never felt so out of practice; once upon a time, she could have taken two dicks in her gullet at once. But now...
"You'll do well to keep my wife's name out of your filthy mouth or else."
She looked up at him with mascara running down her face and wiped the remaining spit from her lips with the back of her wrist. "Or what?"
Merlyn scowled, "Otherwise I'm going to start taking this more seriously," he said as his cock twitched near her mouth.
"Be a nice change of pace," she confidently mocked.
"Alright then bitch," Merlyn said with amusement in his voice, grabbed her by the head and thrust his manhood deep into her mouth, causing her to gag.
"Gulff! Hurrrrgh!" She retched and felt her nose pinch, but it wasn't the shock; it was Merlyn, cutting off her air supply.
"Ah, there we go, oh what's wrong? Nothing cute to say now?" Merlyn said as he tickled her throat with his pulsing member.
"Hey! Leave her alone!" Shouted the protective voice of Isabel from atop the boardroom table as 10 inches of cock hit home into her wet snatch.
For the last few minutes, she had been servicing Colin Thomas as he sat atop her and thumped his hips against her buttcheeks, slinking into her backdoor with each pump.
Meanwhile; Zamperini had taken more of a background roll this round. Standing off to the side, for now, he allowed Thomas the fair chance to pound his shaft into the Russian oligarch's colon; while he stayed out of the way.
She had remained stern in her appearance when he first put it in her caboose but when said oligarch saw her friend's oxygen cut off by the devious Merlyn; she chose to intervene.
"I said get your filthy fucking hands off her you son of a-lllkkk...gggwwwwkkkk,” Isabel started but was cut off by her own gurgles and gags as Damien Darhk interrupted her with his cock by shoving it in the place his friend had been denied due to Merlyn the sound was absolutely sensational to him.
"Whoooo," he exclaimed, turning his head to his friend, "You're getting sloppy in your old age man, the Bryan I knew would have never let a woman sidebar him," he conversed with his friend so casually even as he pumped away into her open cavity with such professionalism that Rochev found herself unable to resist, even for Helena.
“What can I say? I like to play it fair, and that's pretty rich coming from you mate don't ya think? Mr Lazarus Pit facial," Zamperini jested his friend with a hand on the shoulder.
"Haha, yeah perhaps, anyway, wanna switch partners for a while huh?"
"MMOOO!" Isabel muffled in protest which drew Darhk's attention back to her fully, "Oooh, don't worry Ms Rochev, my friend will take good care of her; meanwhile, Mr Thomas," he looked at the man right in his eye from no more than 2 feet away. "Centre yourself up, straighten your back, and let's do this bitch a real synchronised banging.
"Glurk...Urk...Mmpmph...Mmpfh,” Helena tried to hold it in but choked due to the non-stop sausage moving in her throat; all she could do was manage not to gag anymore on Merlyn's meaty pole. But she could feel his dirty blonde pubic hairs tickling her spit-clogged nostrils; it tickled like fuck, and she had to try her hardest not to sneeze, otherwise, it might spell the end of her.
Finally, she felt the pressure give and allowed whatever drool she still had built up in her sinuses to spill out onto her lap and the floor, and as she raised her head tiredly, she blinked her eyes, seeing someone's hand on Merlyn's arm, holding him in place as his member still protruded in front of her, it too was still dripping long strands of saliva in places that looked like clear syrup drips, each drooping and slinking their way to the floor beneath.
'Ok, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all,' she thought to herself as she looked on at the mighty figure of Bryan Zamperini, coming to her from the suffocating games of Merlyn.
"The fuck are you doing?" He practically spat at the old man.
"Take it easy, don't go breaking her for the rest of us. We can all play; trust me," he told him with a smile.
Instantly, Malcolm ripped his hand away and shoved Zamperini back hard enough that his glasses fell off his head and the lens could be heard cracking on the ground.
"Don't you fucking try and tell me what I can and can't do, just who do you think you are!" The man had clearly lost his legendary composure had all but dissolved by this point; replaced with a more intense approach; a look of fury and rage emanating from his lips as he spoke.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked in the direction of the disturbance.
The room was suddenly filled with an awkward tension as the old man inhaled sharply and picked up his sunglasses from the ground and closed his eyes; he was now glaring intensely at Merlyn before taking another breath and calming himself enough that he could look the man in the eye again without knocking his lights out.
"I'm just a guy, who'd like not to have his toys broken, thank you very much," he said dismissively turning away from Merlyn and looking down at Helena. He leant down and offered her a hand back to her feet.
"Hey there, we haven't been personally introduced yet," he said, "I'm Bryan."
She looked at his hand for a minute; her mascara-ruined face contorting into a pout.
"It's got to be awfully uncomfortable down there," he joked as she stood up unassisted.
"Helena Bertinelli," she shook his hand quaintly.
"Charmed," he added with a smile.
Helena suddenly shivered as she felt a presence touching the rim of her pussy.
Helena risked a look behind and found none other than Merlyn himself with his hand planted on the inside of her red lace panties, rubbing her extremely slick cunt before he dipped one then a second finger into her wet inferno. Despite the sudden finger-fucking, Helena looked back at Bryan and he gave her a warm smirk.
"Don't worry; I'll keep him in line." A wink helped reassure her.
“Haaa-oh,” Helena moaned in a deep throaty groan as she felt Merlyn's rapid fingers force themselves right up into her folds. He withdrew his fingers and grabbed Helena's long dark brown hair and yanked it back towards his body.
"Sit or lay?" He whispered into her ear.
"Lay!" Edge shouted over, casting his unwanted opinion as he sat down on Maeve’s other side before placing a hand on her bare thigh as her skirt pushed up towards her hips; he leered at her with a malicious smirk as he let his hand move from her outer thigh to her inner. "Wow you smell wonderful,” he said to Maeve as her gag reflex reflected the fact that he did not. It was the first test she'd have to face that day when the gross man who was old enough to be her father laid a hand on her.
"What is that, Dragonfruit?"
"Uh no Sir, Strawberry Blast," Maeve told him firmly.
"Ah, of course," he said as he slid one long finger up her inner thigh towards her panties.
She wanted nothing more than to throw her drink in his smug face and march right out of the boardroom, but she knew that would not end well after what her boss had said to her downstairs. Sure, it would make her feel empowered at that moment, but it would shatter the possibility of what her boss had promised her downstairs.
“Hang on,” Edge stopped his advances for a moment, “You're not still a virgin are you?”
Maeve answered his question with another question, “Do you think I am?”
“Well hot damn!" Edge said as his eyes lit up a little, “You hear that Maxwell!?” He asked of his competition, “I think we got us a fresh one here.”
“Um…I…” Maeve stuttered and stammered, not knowing what to say once again.
Without uttering another word, Edge slid his hand up from her thigh in order to clutch her boob which felt about as soft as sandpaper on skin. As her tit was groped roughly, Maxwell too moved in close next to her on the other side, grabbing her wrist and placing it on his lap. Maeve immediately felt his cock harden within his trousers like a snake made out of cement, and immediately wanted for nothing more than to run for the hills. But she knew that wasn't really an option, and try as she might to numb herself to her reality as best she could; she knew full well what was expected of her and lacking any adequate alternatives, she would have to do it, for the plan, for the promise of power, and yes, even for herself, so that she may stop longing for the destiny that had so far failed to come to be.
She began slowly massaging the businessman’s cock through the fine material of his expensive pants. Not really knowing if she was doing it right, or if there even was a 'right' way to handle a grown man’s phallus in such a way. And before long, she was rubbing both men’s dicks as Maxwell's jealousy began to rear its ugly head as he moved her left hand onto his lap as well, all while he continued exploring her chest with his grabbers.
“Okay then Virgin, since this is your first time let's start with something easy."
Maeve looked back over and found that the businessman had undone his pants and pulled them down low enough so his dick stood erect like a pillar of steel; and what a dick it was, coming in around perhaps 8 inches or longer; it was easily as thick as her wrist and would undoubtedly stretch her unprepared pussy to its max.
Her hesitation mustn't have gone unnoticed for too long as Maxwell freed his throbbing manhood as well, and Maeve felt lightheaded at the sight. Reaching up and cupping the back of her head, the director of the D.E.O. performed the age-old sign of signalling for a girl to go down by pushing her down. Maeve snapped out of her stare, twisting to face the man, it smelt weird, but then again, she didn't know what a cock was meant to smell like, so after swallowing her pride and accepting her fate head-on; she opened her mouth and wrapped her plump lips around the head of his dick.
“Oaahhh, fuck...” Maxwell groaned in satisfaction.
Maeve had never given a blowjob before in her life, so she had no idea if she was doing it right, let alone if it was any good. Not that it matters anyway, it's not like she had any actual interest in stopping to ask Maxwell if her dick-sucking skills were passable. Instead, she just continued bobbing her head up and down as she was; her luscious lips rode half his cock with her every tongue swirl, gliding along the poles underbelly with as much smooth grace as a surfing enthusiast on a morning wave.
“My god, Virgins like you are a rarity Ms Nal; you should feel proud." Maxwell said, "You’re quite the prodigy.”
Maeve felt both a little embarrassed and flattered by this comment.
With his head tilted back and his hand holding Maeve’s head down, the businessman was in a state of pure bliss. Though her technique was far from refined, what she lacked in experience; she more than made up for in nervous energy. Evidently, the threat of being blamed for this whole fuck-up was a rather strong motivator; and the promise of a new position here was all she needed to keep going; who knew?
While her mouth worked over the upper half of his thick cock, Maeve’s hand massaged the bottom half. Given the spit that was leaking down from her mouth, her wanking skills became rather sloppy at times, nevertheless, the overall sight was most satisfying.
Since this was her first time; first threesome for that matter, Maeve had completely forgotten all about Edge to her left, but unfortunately for her, he had not forgotten about her at all. And while she had begun her venture into the world of salacious sensuality, his cock had been rubbed unevenly the whole time by the young cock-sucking girl as she tried to focus on her other hand and mouthful with attentive attention. Edge's exploratory hands were slowly making their way to her ass; that was until he got the brilliant idea to undo her tight pencil skirt and practically rip it down past her deliciously thick ass and halfway down her juicy thighs.
“Wooo shit! Would you look at that!” Edge commented, staring down at her quickly dampening pussy. “Now that's a fresh cunt. I can't wait to ruin it,” he ran his cummy foreskin across her pussy, and Maeve moaned in response at the luscious intrusion.
From somewhere back in the deeper recesses of her mind now; Maeve remembered reading something years ago. The quote went: 'Only the liberation of the natural capacity for love in human beings can master their sadistic destructiveness.'
Well if there was any truth to that she was definitely relating to the sadistic destructive part now as Edge’s mouth slipped onto her labia lips like a suckerfish. His tongue slurped along her folds, brushing past her clit.
"Hieeemph!" She bellowed a squeak on the director's cock from what little space she could spare from her nostrils as she felt her back end tingle between the two men like a small treat with her back end raised up higher than her mouth. She felt the crude man's tongue latch onto her slit with his mouth. Edge kept his tongue away from her most sensitive part and instead, focused on wrecking her with hole with his tongue. But that wouldn't be enough to satisfy him, not by a long shot. Her tiny asshole was centred right between his vision, like a target that was just begging to be violated.
As he started licking inside her tiny pussy, her extreme sensitiveness only served to tighten her walls that quaked at his every move, and she let out a slight hiss from deep inside her throat as her whole stomach began lurching as she pushed her way up from Maxwell's relentless grip. Popping off his cock with a small sound.
"Aaagghhhh,” Maeve practically cried out as a wave of pleasure hit her so fast that she felt the couch-top curl beneath her lone free leg. "Oh my god! Wha-what's happening to me!? W-wha-is this feeling!?"
"That, my dear Ms Nal," Maxwell said with a sneer, "Is the building tension of an impending orgasm."
"An orgasm!??" N-no I.. I couldn't I.. I never wou-" But she couldn't explain the sensation she was feeling with the second man's tongue working on her flesh any other way, but whatever it was, she wasn't going to last long fighting it; she could feel an unfamiliar warm buildup in her lower belly, working its way up her spine until, all of a sudden, it overtook her chest. The air was heaved out of her lungs as a more intense and powerful wave than anything she had ever experienced before in her wildest dreams washed over her physical form and for a split second; Maeve forgot all about Edge and Maxwell, all about her powers, and her alleged destiny. She forgot it all, and let the feeling take her away entirely.
"OOOOOOhhhh FUCK!" She gasped out in a scrambling sort of way as her whole body convulsed violently and she squirted all over Edge's face like a tsunami; cries of ecstasy wracking her body could be heard all around the office. "Oh gah! Aaaahhh!”
Edge tried to hold the young girl still as her body thrashed and jolted like an out-of-control animal as her eyes rolled back into her skull, and then...nothing...but pure white.

««⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻*⸻↯⸻*⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻»»

A sense of peace washed over Maeve as she opened her eyes to find a white space of nothingness; puzzled, she got to her feet quickly, but once she did, she realized she was alone; nothing in all directions except the faint touch of coloured fog that reminded her of a radiant rainbow that gave the area a peaceful feeling to it.
She craned her neck around, looking for anything at all but it was fruitless; the empty purgatory seemed to go on forever. The air held a frigid touch to her skin; it sent chills from one end of her spine to the other and yet... it was a chill that felt all too familiar to Maeve somehow; like she knew this place all too well somehow.
Eventually, she noticed she wasn't wearing her business attire any longer but instead, now found herself garbed in some sort of tight stainless silver spandex swimsuit that left almost nothing to the imagination; covered in a reflective tint that highlighted each and every curve of her fit, petite frame, she felt kind of like a walking mirror as her hands and feet to were wrapped in the same material halfway up each appendage; ending in crescent silver curls at the tips.
"What in the world is going on here?" She said to herself.
Suddenly feeling a rush of embarrassment as she looked further down to find her shaven legs were on full display, luckily no one was around to see them like this but to her surprise, she also noticed her hair had also seemingly changed too; it was...bleached blonde? But how could that be? She'd been a natural brunette her entire life...unless...could it have happened? Could everything she had been promised her entire life finally have been unlocked by the overwhelming sense of that first orgasm? Had her Dreamer powers finally manifested?
"This...this must be it! The Dream Realm! Ahah! I've finally made it! A-and this outfit…it must be my Astral Avatar, w-who I’m supposed to become in order to protect the gateway for all Naltorian dreams!" She said excitedly looking around. "The Dreaming's real!"
But the excitement was short-lived as a sense of isolation began to seep in as she began walking into the void, quickly becoming lost within the reflection-like environment. She wandered aimlessly, thinking over her assumption a little closer now; none of this seemed right. Her whole life her mother told her bedtime stories about when she herself had visited the Dreaming; she found herself garbed in beautiful crystal blue robes as she'd walk through a field of reeds or corn depending on the area she lived in at the time; and if that was the case, what did this bleak spread of nothingness mean for Maeve? And what was the deal with this outfit really?
Her endlessly building questions came to a screeching halt and she whipped her head back around suddenly and saw something in the distance. A person? It looked like it; as she began to walk over to them.
As she got closer to the figure, she remembered the stories of the Eramthgin told to her by her mother many times before her death and noticed a strange phenomenon around them. The best way Maeve could describe it was kind of like looking at a picture through a kaleidoscope that you couldn't see the edges of very clearly. And as she got closer and closer, the world began to mold in around them, rapidly narrowing down to something resembling a street.
The person was now no more than twenty yards away and as she got closer, she readied herself to do battle with this curse upon her people as a sense of scene began taking shape around her, like a film that was being shown in reverse. The environment appeared around her; the scene of a street covered in darkness with wet glistening gravel beneath her feet could now be stood on as the face of the person began to come into view.
A feeling of overwhelming heartache, hurt and guilt came over her as she looked into the black orbs of this ghostly apparition. Maeve was shocked by who she saw, followed by a full flood of tears as she covered her quivering mouth. It wasn't some mythical Eramthgin...it was...it was...
"Nia?" She said with quiet surprise, but the head remained frozen in place.
Her younger sister stood perfectly still and ridged in front of Maeve as her brown hair, instead of being tucked neatly into her elegant bun, was left to fall freely as the light touched her skin.
"Oh Nia, It's so good to see you; I-i was worried that I'd never get a chance to speak to you again after-" her words ceased as she passed through her like smoke when she tried to reach out for her.
"Wha...What?" She said, a little mystified at what had just happened to her.
"Nia...I-it's me, Maeve?" She questioned, staring at her silent sister in surprise. She tried to get in front of her but it was no use. Her sister didn't acknowledge her at all; then it dawned on her that this wasn't really Nia, merely a vision, perhaps a premonition of something to come? Or perhaps, a window into the past to see something that had already happened?
Her surprise only continued to expand when she noticed how her sibling was dressed in a strange-looking outfit. But then she realised that she had seen it before! It was their mother's blue and white Dreamer costume; the one that Maeve herself was promised to receive when her time came to take over the mantle.
'What's going on here?' She thought to herself, 'Nia why are you wearing our mother's suit?' She tried to make out more of the scene around her but felt a presence yank her off her feet Maeve was pulled out of the dreamscape like a fish caught on a hook, powerless to hold on; hurled back to the finality of reality.
"No!" She yelled, putting her hands out to reach for her sister as the force gripped her like a claw, "Niaaa!" She screamed for her as she was dragged back.

««⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻*⸻↯⸻*⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻»»

She awoke out of breath, frantically clawing at the bindings around her. She flinched as she looked up; back on the couch breathing ragged quick gasps as she looked around with whiplashed vision.
"Well well, thought we'd lost you there newbie," came the spine-chilling voice of Morgan Edge again, much to her dismay.
She looked around the room nervously and asked the man, "What happened?" Her head was resting on Maxwell's lap as his cock stood erect aside her cheek.
"You passed out there," the voice explained from beside her. "Seems as if all those pent-up years of sexual frustration proved a little too challenging for you to handle in one go huh," he chuckled.
She could feel Edge licking up the juices she'd squirted onto his face.
"What was that?" She said aloud, thinking about what she had just witnessed; much to the confusion of the two men.
"We told you?" Edge teased, "Came like a freight train speeding out of-"
"No no I mean what was that vision about?" Maeve asked, trying to maintain her composure.
"Vision? What vision, I'm not following?" Edge replied plainly, shrugging.
Turning her head she said, "Nia...That was Nia, I'm sure of it."
As the men looked at each other, Morgan Edge spun his index finger around the side of his temple to indicate a delirious state, but Maxwell was a bit more curious as to the name she had muttered.
"Nia?" He said, momentarily perplexed, his cock still semi-erect as a very distinct thought stigmatised his mind. "Uh, who's Nia?"
Freezing up suddenly, as if realising she had just made a terrible mistake. She looked to him, quick to change the subject.
"N-nobody, forget about it; but I think I need to get back there, to see the rest of what it was trying to show me," she said, managing to stay composed.
"What do you mean? You're not making any sense," Morgan Edge asked, completely confused.
"I know okay!" She snapped at him which surprised both of them. "Look...the only thing that matters right now is getting back, and since it was you both who got me there to begin with..." She trailed off as the words came out, unbelieving of what she was actually saying.
Maxwell shot an uncomprehending look at his male counterpart.
"Sounds like an invitation to keep going to me then," Edge said flippantly.
Maeve's momentary moment of braveness passed like a gust of wind and she once again felt the nervousness return.
"Keep going how?"
“I think you'd do well to relax now Ms Nal; this next part may feel a little...protrusive,” Maxwell warned her with an icy stare.
She realised what the man in front was talking about; as at the tip of her entrance, she felt something protruding the lips of her pussy apart and slid up and down along its length; gathering what juices were left from her first climax and it suddenly clicked.
"A-are you going to?" She asked hesitantly.
"You better believe it," Edge said, not taking his eyes off of Maeve's face for a second, never breaking eye contact. She felt his uninvited member pushing against her most sacred of entries and her heartbeat started to accelerate sharply.
"Oh God, no no no no, not like this; I-i never wanted it to be like this!" She whimpered.
"Oh relax will ya, I ain't gonna hurt you," Edge reassured her with that same manic cackle, "I'll be gentle."
"Promise?" she asked incredulously.
"Nope," he replied and slammed a hand down on one of Maeve's pale butt cheeks, which drew a squeak from the nervous brunette.
"You're probably gonna wanna take a deep breath now," Lord instructed, his hand laced his fingers over her head to suckle on his cock again.
“But…what about…you know…like a…a condom?” Maeve asked nervously; having never had a boyfriend before, she never had a reason to worry about birth control and she didn't know if 15 minutes would be enough time for it to kick in when her boss forced her to take some from one of the water dispensers provided by Mr Queen downstairs...or if it would even work at all and her inexperience showed.
“Condom? HA! HAHAHAHA!!” Edge erupted into laughter as if he found the very concept hilarious. "Your fuckin' funny ain't ya, no rubbers thick enough to cover my beast baby, and besides," he pulled her hair so her head snapped back and her eyes could gaze into his. “You look like you could do with some raw experience if you're gonna keep working in this business," his lip curled and Maeve had never been more apprehensive in her entire life.
She gulped, 'she really should have taken more contraception when she had the chance,' she thought to herself as Edge lined himself up with her sex.
"But wait, wait, what if-"
"NO MORE STALLING!" He shouted and thrust forward inside her velvety walls.
“Ugh!” Maeve’s panicked cry rang out into the boardroom; her hands flew up to her breasts which felt as if they were on fire as he tore her open.
Far removed from the way she wanted to lose her virginity, Maeve could feel him push onward inside her, stretching her never entered hole so wide she thought she might be visiting the dreaming again right there and then.
In a twist of luck though; a childhood horseback riding accident had broken her hymen long ago; so the taking of her virginity resulted in no bleeding. And she was already wet from Edge's earlier licking, so the initial thrust didn’t hurt as much as she feared. However, it still wasn’t exactly what she would have called a fun time.
After the initial shock, she couldn't resist Lord's insistent pushing of her head back towards his cock any longer and her instincts forced her to meet his demands; she opened wide and pushed her mouth down on his obscenely thick member as wide as it would go despite her hesitation and sucked backwards, trying to take in as much of it as she could hold.
Edge meanwhile began to guide his cock inside of her; he didn’t mind the added tightness; it just meant he had to spend more time making shallow thrusts, though he stuck to a medium pace to do so. Her blowjob suffered for it, though she had enough awareness to use her tongue to make licks down Maxwell’s shaft or circle his head to appease him as her cunt was stretched out.
“God she feels so tight,” Edge hissed, fucking her with all the 8 inches he possessed as Maeve was getting used to the rhythm now; being spit-roasted for the first time in her life was not the way she saw this day going, but then again she hadn't expected her powers to bloom either. And with Edge behind her and Maxwell in the front; the smaller of the two men's lengthy cocks had stretched her out enough that it was actually starting to feel kind of good as he used every inch to plunder her hole.
With Maxwell holding her hair bunched in his fist, Maeve had now graduated to a faster pace of sucking, breaking only on occasion to lick the length of his thick slab of meat before bobbing him down once more.
“Starting to enjoy yourself, are you?” Maxwell asked. Maeve gave no response. It wasn't a matter of enjoyment; it was now all about necessity; she had just seen something in there, something about her sister that she needed to get back to, and if that meant allowing these men to do these things to her, then she had to do whatever it took.
The businessman had reached down and grabbed the base of his cock, replacing her hand on his shaft. Being inexperienced and naturally passive, Maeve let him control her, letting him grind his dickhead against her inside cheek before it popped out of her mouth with an audible pop. Maeve was surprised when he slapped his saliva-covered dick against her lips and then over the rest of her face, mostly between her chin and nose.
"Yeah you fucking like that slut," he taunted her as she closed her eyes to make sure it didn't accidentally get her there. "Lemme hear you say it."
Maeve shook her head in defiance, it was one thing to let these men do this to her, but it was another to pretend like she was enjoying it at all. She was met with a tight grip around her neck as he began choking her like a rabid dog. She fought back, attempting to push her shoulders forward to break his hold, but her struggles only made him tighten his grip.
"Say..it," he urged, his voice like sandpaper in her ears. "Say you want this cock."
"Yesss...I wannnt iiiiit..." Maeve said, breaking down another level of respect for herself, "I love your cock," she gasped feeling as though her lungs were being crushed by his vice-grip.
"Say it again! this time with a little more meaning," Maxwell continued to chide.
Maeve fought her urge to pass out again. Worried that if she fell this way it would not take her back to the dreaming, "Iiii...wannnt...your...cooock back in myyy mouth," she managed to force it out through her fractured airway, and its sheer defiance of this act's consequences betrayed her voice's cracking.
"Much better," he said, and he slapped her with his prick again.
Maeve chose to extend her tongue and let his dick slap that instead, making a wet sound as spit smeared on her face.
“Jesus, get a look at these fucking tits man,” Edge commented, slowing his thrusting for the moment.
Maxwell turned his dick back over to Maeve and saw what the mafioso meant. While he had been choking out and dick slapping the beauty, Edge had rolled up her shirt, unhooked her bra and was now fondling her bare mound. Despite being fresh out of business school, Maeve had an impressive pair of tits on her. He guessed they had to be at least as large as B cups or even C's. And given the way Edge was massaging the globes as he fucked her, they must have been exceptional. The monster in him could only marvel at the pair's delectable flesh as he fucked her cunt.
“How do they feel?” Maxwell asked Edge while Maeve tried not to focus on their unusual gestures.
“They’re nice, real perky, very smooth," he admitted truthfully, wiggling his fingers over the nubbins.
“Pervs,” she said through gritted teeth; the biting on her words did not go unnoticed by either Edge or Maxwell.
Edge just grunted in confirmation before continuing his fondling.
"Bring her up here," Maxwell said, "I think it's time we switch places..."
"No way!" Edge snapped, "I'm not giving up this pussy until I cum."
"Well then hurry up then!" Maxwell said, turning Maeve around so she could lie on her back.
Edge wasted no time in speeding up his thrusting pounds into the brunette's pussy with vigour.
Maeve opened her mouth as wide as she could to protest but Maxwell covered it with his hand. He fondled her tits while he pounded, getting into the rhythm of his thrusts rippled down from Edge's end.
"Come on then, fuck her! Drive it home!" Lord yelled.
"Oh god! I'm gonna cum," Edge rasped out as his cock went wild, bucking hard into Maeve's cunt with each stroke.
Faster and faster he pumped, grinding hard against the inside of Maeve's cunt with each of his movements. She thrashed under it, desperate to get back some sort of control.
After about a minute more of Edge's relentless pumping; he threw his head back and bellowed out, "Ahhhhhhh shit!" As large strings of thick cum shot deep into her pussy, his knees gave way and he collapsed back on the couch's side.
Maeve's face contorted into an odd mix of pleasure, frustration and horror as she trembled visibly after feeling the warm liquid spill into her, her belly wriggling with every pulse.
After all of Edge's seed had drained into her, she finally felt the exquisite orgasm take hold of her again. Edge, now having completed his goal, allowed himself to gulp down air as he slinked his rapidly deflating cock out of her slit.
"Well then, guess that means you're out of the running then," Maxwell said to Edge as if he cared about the silly contest at all anymore, looking down at Maeve from his seated position.
"Worth it in every way," Edge said, grinning.
"Fair enough then," Maxwell said, handing the loser between them the NDA to sign as he lifted the young girl's head off his lap.
Suddenly remembering what was at stake, Morgan grunted and snatched the paper out of his hand and pulled his pants back up, heading towards the nearby desk to scribble his signature on it.
"My turn then,” Maxwell said, moving his body into an upright seating position and gently guiding Maeve's body on top of him, facing away to see the rest of the Bacchanalia far off on the other side of the room, her legs spread apart until she felt his erection rubbing against her inner thigh.
"You definitely don't waste time do you Rochev,” Darhk said before the brown-haired woman popped her mouth off of his member and the only thing holding it together was the single strand of sagging spit that trailed from her bottom lip to the tip of his covered cockhead.
"No, time wasted is time better spent with action," Isabel said with a coy smile; relaxed a little more now as she knew Helena was back to having fun.
Damien looked down at the caramel-skinned beauty staring up at him and smirked back at her. "Ah, so picked up more from Robert than just how to make your assistant a submissive whore did you?" He reached out his hand towards Isabel's lips and severed the spit strand between them, subtly indicating to her to get back to his cock.
"Mr Thomas," Darhk's smooth voice again said, "Help me get her up, will you? I'd like to see what kind of thrashing she can take between us."
Obliging, Colin slowly wrapped their long arms around her waist and thighs, before holding her up between their large bodies suspended off of the ground.
"Alright then boys, show me what you can do..." Isabel dared as she felt both men slide into her front and backdoors, pumping their warm, slick cocks into her core.
Both men had shifted Isabel into different, more comfortable positions and with her salty words spurring him on, Colin took on a rather unusual approach while fucking her. Whereas before, instead of opting for speed; his efforts spoke for themselves as he maintained a slow but extremely deep plunging into her butthole. Darhk meanwhile would push slowly into the lean woman before resting with all 8 inches buried in her snatch for long seconds at a time. He'd then withdraw slightly faster but each and every one of his pushes was paced and methodical, so he didn’t cum too quickly given how amazingly tight her velvety folds were.
But now he seemed very ready to actually fuck her properly; Thomas kicked things up several gears at once. No longer holding back by going slow, Colin thrust all 10 inches into her ass at once but now was going much faster. The change was as obvious to Isabel as they were welcomed by her lean body; being bounced up and down between the two men's torsos caused her to let out a surprisingly energetic grunt that sounded rather unlike her.
When they started picking up the pace a little faster, the men both realised that they were in trouble as Isabel's moans and whimpers seemed to increase with her arousal.
"Oh, fu-king-shit! Go-nna-cum-soon! Do-do-do-do!" Isabel's voice came out in tandem with their thrusts as her body contorted and her holes tightened into clenched vice grips.
The men couldn't help it anymore as they let out a deafening grunt, almost splitting Isabel apart at the seams at the same time. She screamed all she could. And her long-term climax unleashed, her grip on them loosened and her body relaxed as she let out a breath. The men's bodies twisted around her as they continued fucking her from below; their balls pumping into her gushing holes.
"OOOFFFFHHHKKKKKKKKK!" She screamed her lungs out and her entire body writhed in the thrashing embrace between them.
Darhk let out a groan and lost his composure as he felt his balls tighten. Thomas too felt himself tighten before his balls emptied themselves inside of her ass.
"Oh ssssshhhhit!" Colin exclaimed through clenched teeth as their pricks shivered within their respective holes, cum splattered out and onto the floor below them as they struggled to keep their legs strong.
Eventually, Both men took a few moments to gather themselves as they slumped back into their chairs; dropping Ms Rochev to the floor next to her dick-sucking friend, Malcolm Merlyn was behind her snowy white frame, thrusting into her, but from this angle, she couldn't tell which hole he was defiling.
“Well, hello there," Zamperini's voice caught Rochev's attention from next to her on the floor as he pumped up into her old flames mouth.
"Fancy seeing you all the way down here, I must say; your friends holding out better than I expected as well; care to join in?" The Australian asked the Russian with fervour.
It may have been a while, but Isabel was still slutty enough to know exactly what the Aussie intended and put on her best slutty face for him.
"Ohhhhhh yes, more than happy to," she mused, popping the top of his hard cock out of her friend's mouth; seeing her now she couldn't help but look at her with a strange sense of pride.
Rediscovering this looser and sexy side of herself filled Isabel with a strange sense of peace and contentment; despite the looming danger, she felt like she was right where she was supposed to be.
"You look just adorable Miss Bertinelli," said Isabel ironically.
Barely able to speak now as she regained her breath, Helena could do no more than just slump her head to the side and let her tongue thick with spit hang out, the look on her face suggestive of enjoyment at the attention placed on her.
"Gllloah," she uttered while receiving harder thrusts in the pucker than ever before with every word she spat out.
Without wasting another moment, Isabel kissed her worn-down friend, leaving a sloppy trail from her lips to his in the process before flashing her chocolate brown eyes up into his. To show she was ready, Isabel kept her mouth in a perfect O with her lips wrapped around his cock. With Helena's pussy currently being pounded into oblivion by the horny Merlyn, Isabel felt Bryan clutch the back of her head with both hands as he thrust his hips off the ground.
Rochev was now being slammed by both men at the same time, not an unusual situation for her but since it had been so long it made the experience extra intense. It was kind of like riding a bike you hadn't even thought of in years.
While one had a field day on her cunt and the other was skull fucking her gorgeous face, in the middle, she was still having the time of her life as Thomas smacked her ass cheeks with his palms with every thrust he put in her. And despite the abuse at both ends of her body, it wasn't long before the Russian was craving some a little...harder.
“Man, I bet that Russian cunt feels great,” Damien Darhk commented as he looked over at the foursome happening below him. “I’ll have to try it another time," and he finished inscribing his initials into the piece of paper.
"That'll about do it for me," he announced to Isabel, who was far too preoccupied wolfing down Zamperini's member to make any formal means of goodbye.
"Same here," said Colin Thomas, "Have fun fixing this trainwreck," he turned to Zamperini and pointed, "Don't go having a heart attack now, Old Man..." The words came out like venom as he turned to leave.
"Be seeing you around, Stretch!" Bryan shouted back and Colin flinched for a moment in the glass doorway without looking back before continuing on.
"Well that was weird," Darhk chuckled and turned his gaze back to his old friend, "Listen I gotta jet, promised Reva a lunch date at the new Jitters, but once you're all finished up here, why don't ya come and join us? I bet she'd be thrilled to see you again after all this time man." His offer was sincere.
"Yeah sure, that'd be great; it'll be like ‘89 all over again," Zamperini joked and gave him a buddy point of the finger as his other hand continued to push Rochev's head down onto his cock.
"Ahhh you old dog," Darhk replied and pointed back with a laugh, "Great I'll see you then," and promptly headed for the doors.
It was now all down to just 3 men and 3 women; Bryan and Isabel, blowing on the floor; Helena's ass being ravaged by Merlyn from not far, and the young Maeve Nal was certainly getting her fill today from Maxwell from across the room on the couch.
None of the males had any intention of losing before the others.
“Oh fuck that’s good~” Helena moaned. “Just like that~, Mmm yeah~, I like that~”
As Malcolm drove his cock further forward into her bowels, he pulled her hips backwards as well; the force caused her to yelp in surprise. Seeing that Helena took the sudden hard thrust in stride, the man with midnight black hair stopped holding anything back and pushed more and more of himself past her anal ring. He gradually increased his speed until he was really plowing into her backdoor, making her drop one hand onto her clit and rub furiously.
“Jesus!” He swore, “This feels amazing!” He could feel the woman’s vaginal walls tightening through her anal muscles as he fucked her rear hole with reckless persistence. By this point, he fully let go of the gas pedal and started pounding into her backdoor faster and faster.
“Man, he's really fired up now," Bryan said watching on, "I better step up my game if I want to stay in the running...” Knowing that variety was the spice of life, Zamperini slapped Isabel’s ass to emphasise his point.
Popping her godly lips up off of his cock, she looked into his eyes, "I want to feel you inside me."
"Do you now?" He teased as Isabel simply nodded with a grin on her face.
With that said, she crawled on her hands and knees further up the man's body, working him down as she now lay atop of him, where she belonged naturally; his cock rubbed back and forth between the inner lips of her pussy, causing her to moan.
Using one hand to pin down his chest, she reached between her legs with her other to guide the cock into her eager opening. Droplets of wet juices dripped from her cunt onto the tip of its head, lubing it up as she sat down on it.
"AhhHH~," Isabel moaned loudly as she took him into her body. With a powerful shove, she sunk the man's entire 12 inches into her baby baker in one go.
"Oh god! Fuckin'!...Gah! It feels like you've pushed right past my cervix!" She exclaimed with a reckless grin.
In less than a millisecond, she began riding him rapidly while breathing in pleasure.
"You're unbelievably tight!" Bryan rasped, he and Isabel glanced at each other as their eyes were locked together; the look in their eyes said that they both knew exactly what each other was thinking. Both couldn't hold back against each other as she began riding him more aggressively, feeling the effects of his large pole being pumped against her insides.
"You like my pussy, Old Man?" She grinned with a lustful urge to cum steadily building up from deep inside her as she moved faster and faster on his shaft.
"Oh fuck yeah...just like that, just like that, arrgh God!" His head hit the ground behind him as he gripped her hips tightly and ground himself into her, "Feel my shaft deep inside of you!"
"Yes, yes, yes! Oh gawd your cock feels so amazing! The best I’ve ever felt by far!" Isabel's voice was instantly taken over by a high-pitched moan as she continued riding his shaft like a wild beast. As she rode him harder and faster, Bryan gripped her hips tighter and began thrusting into her even faster, hammering the back of her pussy like a piston. The two sped up and up until the rapid motion was too much for them; Isabel yelped as her orgasm erupted.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" She cried out as a blinding bolt of pleasure shot through her body as if her pussy had given way at the base of the man's cock and exploded its juices onto his pelvis.
Her cry was louder than anyone else's in the room; the sensation of intense pleasure soon drove Bryan to the brink of his own orgasm; his face buried deep in Isabel's neck as she collapsed onto him, shivering violently after her first proper fucking in years.
After a few moments of not moving and lying on top of him, Isabel lazily cuddled her body against his with one arm draped over his chest. She closed her eyes and as she did so, she realised she still had his cock inside her. Noticing this, she began grinding up and down against him without moving off.
"Quite the impressive display, Old Man?" She said, breathlessly.
"Mhmm!" He replied but it came out clipped; he was clearly doing everything he could not to cum right there and then.
"Still resisting are we?" She teased.
"With every fibre of my very being," he said, finally relaxing and letting himself enjoy the feel of being inside her; it was amazing. He hadn't felt this bliss in a long time, and he was going to enjoy this experience while it lasted.
"Well then...let's fix that shall we?" She winked and pushed herself along his horizontal body faster, squeezing his pole inside her wet pussy. He was dazed by the sensations that were building inside him at such a rapid pace that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.
Back on the couch, Maeve had been steadily doing her best to take as much of Maxwell's massive cock as she could fit. Justifying to herself that this would all be worth it as she felt herself getting closer and closer to that sweet orgasm she needed to receive.
“FUCK! Agh, shit it's huge!” Maeve winced as Maxwell began to thrust violently.
"I've been told," the man replied as he thrust up again, "You should see me in the interrogation room; I once had my team run a fucking conga-line through this Valerian refugee from Starhaven who was caught stealing some expensive art called the Starry Night or some shit, I told her; I don't care if your brother was being held hostage, you don't come to my planet looking that fine and expect to woo your way out of holding."
This story unsettled Maeve. Clearly, the dark matter retardant V-68 in his system was affecting his head; curious, Maeve inquired further. "W-what happened to the Valerian girl? Did you let her go after you helped free her brother?"
Maxwell just laughed at her innocence, "Nah, she ended up choking to death after the 9th of my men filled her lungs with a little too good old-fashioned human seed. She was a sloppy muskrat from Starhaven that probably fucked the whole system for passive certification, and her pheromones were poison."
Maeve's eyes widened in shock and disgust, "Y-y-you let her die?"
Maxwell suddenly pulled her back onto his chest and grabbed her by the throat, cutting off her air and spoke right into her ear, "No...I punished a filthy alien whore for daring to step out of line, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat as I plan to do with all the others in my collection.”
Maeve's pulse began to quicken, "What collection?" She rasped out.
"The collection in my secret off-site facility in the desert, where I personally contain and interrogate some of the most egregious sex offenders in the galaxy! Doesn't matter if they're Daxamites, Coluans or Necrians...though between you and me...I've always wanted to fuck a Naltorian," he taunted her with a smile.
"You don't say," she said nervously as her pussy tightened around his cock from the irony.
"Oh yeah, I fucked alot of races, but that one, woof," he said unconvincingly as she felt him begin to rub against her body again.
"Now, enough talk; let's get back to it."
Hoisting up with her legs, Maeve brought herself down on top of the man as she felt herself connect with his girth multiple times in a matter of seconds; her hair fell in repetitive droops behind her and above Maxwell's face as she rode him like a reverse cowgirl.
She suddenly locked up when she felt a new sensation hit her from underneath.
“Tell me something Ms Nal," Maxwell said, stopping his pacing inside her suddenly without pulling out; "If you were a true virgin, then I'd imagine you've never done any butt stuff before?” She couldn't see him, but she could almost feel the smile being burnt into the back of her head.
“What?! Of course not,” Maeve naively stated. “ Why would you ask me tha...Oh God! Are you going to…you know…with my bum?”
"That depends..."
"On what?"
"On if you're a good girl and behave yourself."
She felt him begin to massage her buttocks with his thumbs. Maeve shivered like never before as goosebumps immediately covered her entire body and she could feel her chest starting to tingle with anticipation. Her mind raced through all the negative repercussions something like that could have on her long-term as her libido began to drop exponentially.
“Wait sir, stop please I-i'm not ready for that!” Maeve begged once she felt his finger creep closer to her booty and to her surprise, he actually stopped.
“Hmm, it seems so,” he coolly remarked; a chuckle bubbled up out of him that put her back on edge. "Then we'll just have to try this."
Before she could ask what he meant, Maeve felt the searing pain of something picking her rectum for the first time.
"What the--oh my God!!! !! Oh my GODSSSS!!! What are you doing back there? You're tearing my—"
“Damn bitch, calm down,” Lord laughed, “It’s just my middle finger; WHERE’D YOU GET THIS ONE FROM ROCHEV?” He shouted across the room, “KINDERGARTEN?”
Maeve couldn’t believe that this was happening to her and for a minute, she had wondered what terrible wrong she had done in a previous life to deserve such sodomy. Lord had stuck his longest finger about an inch into her butthole and was holding it there as if he were waiting for something.
Maeve's whimpering crescendoed into moans and her fist clenched on the couches leather as she felt herself stretching further and further as he slowly pushed his pointer deeper. This pillaging of her primal hole never seemed to cease and was quickly becoming one of the longest moments of her young life. If it weren’t for her drive to see the truth, she likely would have lost it long ago.
No longer going fast but steadily instead, the businessman was now up to the next joint above his knuckles with his fingers still firmly embedded inside her. With each moan, she made him move just that bit deeper into her. As insane as it sounded, she was seemingly being turned on by it all. Even the tips of her nipples were also starting to rapidly harden out of his reach and Maeve could do nothing but hold onto herself and moan in rapid succession. Her boobs bounced like jelly as he started fucking back up into her.
“Whatever is the matter Ms Nal?” Lord commented to the distressed girl. "You're being such a cute little submissive slut.”
"I...I am not!..." She groaned out, blushing slightly.
“Oh yes you are, and you better get used to it if you're working under someone as infamous as your boss's reputation claims to be; now, tell me how much you like my finger in your ass. Tell me to fuck your pussy harder,” Lord demanded, steadily getting more and more of his thick cock in her butt.
Maeve shook her head no, as Lord grabbed her neck again.
"Say it! And call me Director all you want!" His voice turned threatening and was beginning to raise in a strict tone as he shoved his finger down to the knuckle inside her ass. "You will be my slave girl and say what I tell you to!”
"I woooon't..." She coughed out, embarrassed by what was happening.
"Oh yes, you will! Say it!" He suddenly took things to a whole new incomprehensible level inside of Maeve as he began wiggling and curling his finger inside of her, pushing and molding her delicate walls like a tented rubber glove.
“Ow...I like it...ahhhh...Director, Fuck...owwww...meee and finger my ass,” Maeve hissed, tears swelling in the corners of her eyes clearly showing she did not mean a single word of it.
"That's much better," he proclaimed and slowly began tensing his cock which was still buried deep within her snatch, letting his ten inches subtly grow and then shrink all the way inside her.
Maeve could feel it building inside of her; soon she'd be back there, soon she'd see...
"Oh my god I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" Helena screamed out as Malcolm bottomed out inside her ass, pulling back twice and then plunging back in hard. She was pushed forward onto the shiny marble floor as if her knees had given out; no longer her own dominating ruler she was now just a fucktoy for this powerful man to use however he wished.
"That's right Bertinelli," he said, his free hand quickly grabbing a wad of hair and pulling back. "Take it deep whore and tell me how much you like to be used! TELL ME!"
Helena stretched out a gasp of air, "I FUCKING LOVE IT YOU MOTHERFUCKER! FUCK ME! GOOOOOOOOD!" She screamed as she squirted all over the floor.
"That's a good little spaghetti whore," Malcolm mocked, stroking his cock with unrelenting strides back inside the girl's welcoming bowels. "Sit up; I'm gonna glaze that pretty face of yours with my spunk."
"Think that's your cue boys," Rochev said huskily, popping off of Zamperini's length and helped her friend up off of Merlyn's dick; now holding her next to her own sweat-covered body; she was excited and breathing heavily, her breasts visibly swollen from the attention they'd received.
"This what you wanted, right guys?" She slurred, looking up at both of them with something akin to triumph.
Under all the influence of relentless sex, Maeve's senses had turned euphoric as she faintly felt herself being carried over to the other two women in the windows rays.
The next thing she knew she was being placed on her knees next to Rochev and Helena, her heavy breaths showing the lack of oxygen she'd been getting during her throttling from Maxwell; but it no longer mattered to her; she was so high on lust and sex hormones and the sensation of getting back to the Dreaming by this point that she opened her mouth and let her tongue fall out as a way of saying: "Come on, let's finish this."
"Well," Lord scoffed in amusement, "If you insist," and slowly slipped his long length into Maeve's mouth for what was likely the final time.
"Hurrghlk!" She gagged as she continued to gulp down the girthy snake that was sliding deeper and deeper down her throat; breathing through her nose proved easier this time as she noticed that on either side of her; Rochev and Helena had also brought their respective male partner's schlong into their mouths as well, until all 3 women were sucking them at the same time.
Side by side, she could hear the sloppy noises Helena made as she slinked along Merlyn's cock, which she found even more distracting than her equally loud boss's moan and slurps on Mr Zamperini's dick; meanwhile, the man in question had grabbed the sides of Rochev's head and was now railing her face down to the base of his shaft, a little roughly for Maeve's liking; she didn't know how her boss was doing it, what the secret was; whatever it may be, she had to admit it was an impressive sight to see her being used so forcefully.
"Hurgh, Huglek, Hmph! Heuuruclk! Hurh, Mmmmmf, Hurrg, Mmmmmff!" Rochev's continuous face pounding crescendoed into a gaggle of noises Maeve had never heard before, but for some reason, they seemed to rile her up in some strange competitive sense. Without thinking, she began taking charge of her own cock, and bobbing back and forth on the shaft of the director as he loomed up above her. The man took the control away from Maeve and grabbed her head and began thrusting hard down her airway.
As tears began to fill her eyes, she saw Malcolm Merlyn doing the same thing to Ms Bertinelli as well, which could only mean one thing, they were all about to burst; this was it; taking in one last deep breath, Maeve surrendered control completely and let this man use her face as unceremoniously as he wanted.
"Gulmph! Hurlk!" Maeve's noises now matched her female counterparts in both sound and spit as she sucked down every vigorous thrust for all it was worth; right as she felt her insides being churned about in some kind of joyous purge, feeling like she was fighting a sea of carnal forces, she heard Helena let out a loud and husky: "Hurrghhh, Gawphd, Myk-kackkkk"
And right after her boss let out a loud: "Reeeuglk!!"
And even though she couldn't feel it coming, she was still surprised to feel the man's cock stiffen inside the deepest parts of her gullet; it seemed so hard right now that if she'd bit it, nothing would happen.
All 3 men burst into all-out orgasm, spewing their decorated semen as far down their throats as they could, first Maxwell, then Malcolm, and finally Zamperini blasted their warmed loads right down the gaggle of women's throats as an impossible to resist carnal delirium overtook them.
White hot ropes of cum shot down their gullets like salty streamers, slinking and snaking their way into their stomachs as the trio could feel the empty space in their bellies filling like water balloons stuck to a hose. None of them would need to eat for the rest of the day at the rate the men were dropping their direct deposit into them.
Rochev and Helena swallowed as much as they could like the pros they were before their men popped out of their orifices, but Maeve was having a little more trouble due to her inexperience.
As the rest of Merlyn and Zamperini's loads trickled over their faces and down their tits; Maeve struggled a little harder to swallow Maxwell's salty load. Not only was it more than what she was expecting, but it tasted terrible, like a creamy wax that had been left in the sun too long; it had a bitter after taste that she was not expecting either, and the fact that it just kept coming and coming made it even worse.
As she struggled to swallow, the boss she looked up to the most groaned with unsatisfied disdain for the lack of finesse her assistant was showing; Maeve could feel his load swelling up inside her mouth more and more as her vision started to darken, and his balls smacking against her chin as she slowly lost consciousness. The last thing she felt before passing out was the warm stream of cum clogging her lungs…

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Maeve’s eyes shot open with frantic gasps for air tearing their way through her chest. She sat up as her breath came in sharp, heavy little jerks as her brain began to awaken and take in her surroundings. With the taste of salty cum still present on her tongue, she was relieved to see that her plan had worked; she was back in the Dream Realm, skimpy silver outfit and all, but something was oddly different this time...
Whereas her last visit held a soothing rainbow aura across the vast white space, an ominous dark void was now present where none had been before. It seemed to have a warm, nearly alluring feel emanating to it, like it was openly inviting her in out of the cold nothingness and towards something.
Maeve risked a look behind, back where the faint light shone through the ever-closing cracks where most of the abyss had been before. She didn't want to go in, but she knew the rest of her vision was probably inside...
“Come on,” she finally said to herself, “You can do this,” and walked forward into the inky black darkness...
After walking along what she thought was a straight line, she slowly began to see something materialize in the distance; it was another light, but this one was strange. It reminded her somewhat of a pink worm but bathed in a neon glow it seemed to slink down and around something.
As she got closer, she began to see the centre clearer, the darkness around her wasn’t some warm nothingness, but it was just nighttime along a wet street corner. In front of her, she saw the pink neon worm thing glowing bizarrely, but she still could not quite identify its source.
To her left, she noticed another light, dimmer than the pink one and a shade of subtle lilac purple, it was faint, no more than a mild blur, but Maeve thought she could make out the vaguely distinguishable lettering of the word: ‘Club’. Then finally, slightly more to her right; was the rest of the street, a car was parked not far from the glow, but the roof seemed to be dented in.
That was odd she thought; it was as if something had landed on top of it; crushing it inwards, or perhaps-
"AURRRAAAAAGH!"
*SNAP*
When the screen came it froze Maeve and tensed every single muscle in her body, locking it up immediately, from her head to her toes; and when the glow faded, she looked down the street; feeling like something still unseen was looking back at her from where the pink light had been emanating from just moments earlier. Then suddenly a distorted voice she didn’t recognise uttered: “What are you doing here?”
Unbeknownst to Maeve for a good few seconds, the entire scene started warping around her, and the ground disappeared beneath her feet, and she fell, fell down with nothing there to stop her; she screamed as she plummeted through the black nothingness until landing hard on the concrete. But there was no pain, no agony; she was fine?
‘Right, Dream Realm,’ she reminded herself groggily.
As she got back up, she noticed she was on the same street corner, but this time there was no pink light and the car was fixed. Looking closer at it from this angle, she could now see it was an old pickup truck with a bay in the back.
“Alright then Dream Realm,” Maeve uttered under her breath, “Show me what I’m here for...”
Absentmindedly, a man passed through her in a puff of smoke as he walked down the sidewalk to the other end from where Maeve stood. He made no attempts to acknowledge her, but she no longer thought that was out of the ordinary anymore; she was paying avid attention to every little detail she possibly could when abruptly, the man came to a stop mid-way down the street past the car; he looked back, as if he was making sure he was not being followed, then continued walking.
Only a second before it happened, Maeve looked up, putting the context clues together after observing the car earlier. A dark figure could be seen standing on the edge of the roof above them, before stepping off and plummeting towards the car roof beneath.
The crash was thunderous; shards of glass shattered everywhere from the exploding windows and Maeve held up her hands to shield herself from the twinkling shrapnel on the ground like stars out of space on earth, even though they could not hurt her.
From between her block, she saw the man tense himself, bundling his hands into fists as he turned around sharply.
When she lowered her arms, Maeve recognised the new form immediately.
“Nia...” She said solemnly.
Nia Nal crouched in a tell-tale superhero landing pose she had favoured since the two of them were kids atop the broken remains of the pick-up’s roof. Confirming Maeve’s earlier sighting, she was indeed dressed in their mother’s blue and white padded Dreamer outfit, mask and all, and as she raised her head, her sister could tell something was wrong; Nia looked mad, madder than she’d ever looked in her entire life before jumping off the automobile’s roof and down into the tray. She rose to her feet slowly with an air of menace about her.
“Looking for me?” She said to the man in a deep, serious tone as he began chuckling to himself.
“Hahaaa,” The man rubbed his lower jaw, grimaced and then pointed at her, “You weren’t supposed to be here.”
On his last word, the younger Nal kicked the 4x4’s back wall down with a metal clanging that frightened Maeve on the sidewalk.
“N-Nia,” Maeve stuttered, trying to approach her sister, but was stopped by some kind of invisible barrier that prohibited her from leaving the sidewalk. “Wha-? What the?” She said, trying to get through again but her efforts amounted to nothing; she was forced to stand there on the sidelines...watching on as her sister began walking towards him.
“Got something you wanna say?” Nia said with levelled anger in her tone.
“Yeah,” he said with a smug smile, “I don’t think...” He looked down and started approaching her gradually, “...that you’re the right kind of girl to be out here partying with the rest of us.”
“That’s not for you to decide...” The masked woman hissed, standing her ground.
“Welp,” he extended his arms in a gesture of mockery, “Somebody has to stand up to you people.”
“So you stand up by hiding behind a fake name online? By luring innocent people into a sense of self-worth then attacking them for their troubles? By going after my friend to get to me!?” Her teeth flared pale white at the end of the sentence while the man now standing no further away than a foot; lent down to the shorter woman and smarmed a grin at her.
“Worked, didn’t it?”
“Nia!” Maeve screamed from the pathway, desperately trying to warn her little sister of the imminent danger she could see from behind the man.
And before anything else could be said, the sound of a switchblade popping apart filled the air between them, and he swung the edge at her.
In most scenarios, people would usually jump back out of the way of such a deadly weapon or at least attempt to guard themselves in some way if moving was no longer an option. But what transpired shocked Maeve more than anything she could ever have imagined.
Instead of stepping away, Nia stood firm and lent casually to the right, then to the left and landed a decisive kick on her attacker, right in his balls. This disoriented him long enough for her to grab his arm which held the weapon and using an old Aikido move their father had taught them years prior; bent his arm at the elbow until there was a distinctive cracking noise.
"WAAAAAAAAARRGHHHH!!!!” The man bellowed like a wounded animal. She had broken his arm at the elbow, bending it back until it snapped at an almost 90-degree inverted angle; drawing a horrified shirk out of the man as the knife dropped to the ground near Maeve.
Maeve flinched visibly; it had all happened so fast! And Nia hadn’t even moved a single step!? It was somehow like she had seen it coming. Was this really even her sister under that mask??
Reeling from the pain, Nia twisted his arm back out of the way and socked him over the face hard with her right fist. The fight poured out of the man like water as he collapsed to the ground.
Nia stood over him like a hunter above her prey as she wiped the splattered blood off of her cheek with her thumb as it sprayed out of the open gash where his splintered bone had sliced through the skin like a knife through butter.
“Tell me...how does it feel to be the one hurt for a change...to be the one fearing for your life while someone stands over you with the power to end it?!” Nia said with grim satisfaction and bared her teeth, showing them in full glory.
“Geh-” his words were unfocused and frantic, “Geht away from mhe!” His earlier smug confidence now evaporated into the air around them as he desperately tried to shuffle and scurry away from her.
She crouched down to his level and whispered, “This is the part...where you run away...” The words sent shivers up his and Maeve’s spines as he struggled to his feet and began running down the street.
He had almost made it halfway when something happened that changed Maeve’s life forever.
Nia begun swinging her arms in a figure 8 loop about 2 times before a spark trickled from her hand. Suddenly slinking out and yanking the man off his feet; it was so hard that had he not been already running, his head might have smashed open like a watermelon on the concrete street beneath.
Staring on in disbelief, Maeve saw a pink neon chain...made of...oneiric energy...but how was that possible?? And it was coming from...from Nia...Nia...had powers!? Dreamer Powers!?
Maeve was speechless...that should be impossible?...Only 1 woman per generation in her family’s bloodline was able to carry the abilities at any time, and her mother had indicated it would be the order of the two siblings. So how was it possible they were both able to tap into oneiric energy?
“Careful,” Nia husked, “Don’t go passing out on me now,” she said, and pulled him back towards her along the ground, scraping him as she pulled like a snared beast, “I want you to be able to feel everything that comes next...” She eyed him with a simmering glee, clearly visible in her eye for only the trapped man in front of her.
With restraining force, she shoved her heel into his back, pushing him up to a sitting position as she pulled on the bright chain around his neck. “You make me sick,” she said, sneering disgust at him.
“No, you make me sick, you twisted freak!” The man snapped back at her through the pain.
“You show up on the scene one day tricking dudes into thinking that you’re this hot new superhero...argh! The girl next door...but heroes are supposed to be virtuous, and honest, and here you are, lying from behind a mask...you're too afraid to lose because deep down...you're ashamed of what you really ar-HURGH!” She yanked back hard, choking him off.
“Oh-ho hoo, I get it; your fragile ego is so weak it just shattered,” she continued sarcastically, holding him up like a dog on a leash.
“And your sense of self-worth is so shaky, that anything outside your…” she tugged back again, “...narrow worldview threatens to shatter it!”
“Nia! Stop this! You’ll kill him!” It looked like the man’s head might pop off at any moment when Maeve called out louder than before; as her little sister suddenly whipped her head around to the sound of the noise and squinted in shock.
“Maeve! What are you doing here?” She sounded both furious and startled to see her.
“Wait...you can see me?” Maeve backed off in confusion as her sister’s unmistakable eyes darted from her to the man and then back to her, it was hard to tell, but Maeve thought she could see a moment’s worth of hesitation in her sister now; as if she was contemplating what she was about to do with her older sibling watching her now but she still did not seem happy to see her older sister.
"Of course I can see you; you're...what are you wearing?" Nia’s concentration had only been derailed for a second, but it was long enough for the man to break out of the light chain and quickly start to scurry for his life down the sidewalk.
“Damn it!” Nia shouted as she swung her head back to see that the man had gotten out of her grasp and was making a very impressive break for it for having a splintered arm, dashing several yards before a mysterious dark figure walked around the corner at the other end of the street, farthest away from her.
“Hey help!” The injured man screamed, desperate to get away from the blue and white-suited woman, “Please! You gotta help me, this bitch is!-”
Suddenly the man pulled something shiny out of his back pocket, and a high-pitched whirring noise filled the air; from this far away both sisters thought it sounded like something charging up rapidly just as a thin red laser erupted from the tip of the item; immediately severing the man’s legs from the knees down as the beam turned slightly to the left.
"AURRRAAAAAGH!" The man wailed as the realisation of what had just happened sunk in as he smelled the scorching remains of his own clothes and flesh. The red laser had cut through him so quickly and with such precision that there was no blood, just seared separation between his lower appendages.
The sisters watched in shock as the man’s cauterised body jerked and twisted on the concrete below.
“Oh my God...” Maeve exclaimed, bringing her hand up to her mouth to hide her shock.
Nia stood still for a few cautious seconds; assessing the thing in the dark as the figure looked down at the screaming man.
“Gregory Bauer...” Said a man’s voice with a low grumble; while his accent was unfamiliar to Maeve, she was certain she had heard it before somewhere.
“Even after the friggin’ multiverse itself gets put back together and a worthless hunk of shit like yourself is lucky enough to have a second chance at existing...” He stopped and sighed disappointing resentment at the wide-eyed man, “*Sigh*...you still choose to waste it by amounting to no more than the same transphobic piece of shit you were before...”
The now-named Gergory began to quiver at his feet when the figure grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back down the street towards Nia, and the apparently invisible Maeve.
“I guess that some things are simply inevitable, wouldn’t you agree Ms Nal?” The thing said to Nia, speaking with a sense of familiarity now, as if it already knew her and tossed Bauer to the ground nearest to where the girl in blue and white had broken his arm to begin with.
Watching closely, Maeve could see it was definitely a man; though she still could not see his face for the light he was standing in front of from across the street; his clothes were all crumpled; everything from his black suit blazer and pants to his crimson red undershirt and black tie was in a state of wrinkled disarray.
As Gregor lay there on the ground, whimpering and feeling the pain that was still radiating from his tattered limbs; the figure kicked him square across the face with skull-breaking force, spouting blood out of his mouth as his lips burst open.
Groans of pain sounded from deep within the damaged man as it seemed his jaw had been broken now too.
“You stay right there now," the dark figure uttered softly.
Maeve flinched from the sidewalk, but Nia did not; she loosened up a little as the taller man than her as he turned his attention to her.
“You're here,” she said with dry surprise in her voice. The sudden appearance of another person on the scene seemed to have drained the murderous intent out of her like water down a sinkhole but as prominent as this fact was to all except Gregor, a tiny fraction of a smile flexed the corner of her mouth…she was speaking as if she knew this man already.
The newcomer held out his arms in either direction calmly despite the bleeding man at his feet. “I’m here,” he responded with a jovial grin so pearly in the dim light Maeve could see it from across the street.
“But why did you come?” Nia asked, resisting the urge to look back at her sister who she remembered was still watching her.
“My dear Ms Nal, I already told you, I feel personally responsible for what happened to dear Yvette so,” he stated easily and with no hint of insincerity, “I'm just here to make sure he didn’t slip away before you both got the justice you both deserve.”
“Well stay out of this! This is my fight!” Her voice retained some of its earlier fire from before, but still was laced with a sense that she could no longer go through with this.
“A-and don’t even think about trying to stop me! I'm tired of scum like this running around out here ruining people’s lives!”
To her surprise, the man held up both hands again in a shrugging gesture and took a step back to the left.
“You misunderstand Ms Nal,” said the man with the same casual demeanour, “I have no intentions of stopping you...” He paused as he slowly manoeuvred behind the shorter girl and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her head around gently to take the focus off him and back down to look at the man on the ground.
“I intend...to watch...”
Nia didn’t say anything, just stared at the pitiful excuse of a man before her while feeling the rock-hard body of the other behind her.
“It's a shame that dear Yvette could be here with us right now to see him like this...” He uttered gently in her ear, “To see him weeping, crying on the floor, begging for death like the pathetic creature he is; then maybe she could have felt vindicated for the horrible acts that were so unjustly wrought upon her...”
He could feel Nia getting madder as her breaths came in more heavily, “Instead she has to pray, all alone from a hospital bed just hoping she’ll make it through the night after this piece of worthless trash decided it would be fun to trick her into a night out, rape her for almost an hour in that very ally and carve her up like an animal, all because he thought she didn't deserve to be the beautiful boundary-breaking woman she always was inside...”
The anger on Nia’s face grew so fierce it threatened to boil away any remaining restraint in her system. Without thinking, she spun her whip back out and wrapped it around his neck; immediately making Gregor anguished noises of pain.
“Nia! No!” Maeve called again, “Don’t do this!” Slamming her hands on the distorted barrier that separated her from them.
The man continued to whisper in her ear, stoking her fire intentionally, “Your community doesn’t deserve to walk the streets in fear just for being stronger than the rest of us, to be punished only for wanting to be their true selves; they don’t deserve to be some inferior males plaything like Yvette had to be.”
Nia tightened the knot around his neck more, vexed with red rage that coursed through her like a tidal wave. The man gripped her shoulders a little tighter.
“Nia! PLEASE!” Maeve shouted again.
“It is men like him who deserve to feel the same fear they instill in others!” The man’s voice was rising now to a scary degree above the blue and white masked girl. He curled his fingers into her shoulders. “Let him serve as a reminder to all those who bring harm to those who only wish to be themselves! And you, my dear Ms Nal...”
She squeezed the noose tighter, and Gregory's eyes began to turn blood red from the lack of air, “Will be the bringer of justice who feeds off their every fear that hides in their every resting moment! The NIGHTMARE that they will never WAKE UP FROM!”
“DARRRRRUGH!!!” Nia screamed with hot tears of fury in her eyes, and tugged the chain past her.
*CRRRRRACK!*
The snap scared a flock of resting ravens out of the tree next to her; their hasty departure dropped dozens of black and navy blue feathers all around her feet as they flew away from the frightening sound. And as the lifeless body slumped to the floor, blood dripped off the light whip, and began to drain into the nearby gutter.
Everything was quiet for a handful of moments; Nia was breathing heavily while the man still held on to her from behind, “...Good riddance to worthless garbage,” he muttered aloud.
Suddenly Nia swung to the side, and hot vomit retched up her throat with involuntary force and splattered on the ground next to them. Her legs were shaking as she dropped to the road on all fours puking her guts out from the sickening act she had just committed.
“What have I done?” She asked herself as she knelt beside the dead body.
The feeling of filthy bile in her throat poisoned her stomach’s former sense of equilibrium until she could barely smell anything anymore as instant regret began to overtake her and the realisation that she had just killed a man began to sink in. The clip-clopping of suit-shoes worked their way around to her front, and she lifted her head up to meet their occupant.
“You just saved who knows how many more people’s lives from this sadistic menace,” he said in obvious awe of her. “You’re the bravest soul I’ve ever met, in both this world and the old; you alone had the strength to put an end to the very existence of this disgusting excuse for a human being, and you did so without succumbing to that feeble sense of morality that corrupts all from doing what needs to be done.”
Nia couldn’t speak. Entranced by the unseen man, she stood back up and looked at him.
“He hurt my friend, made her scared to go outside,” she said, trying to rationalize it to herself more than him.
“They wish to erase you Ms Nal, which means you must shine brighter than them all,” the man handed her one of the raven feathers he must have caught earlier, before turning with his hands in his pockets to leave. “I bid you goodnight Ms Nal,” he waved and began casually walking back the way he had come, when suddenly he was stopped by her voice as she ran down the street after him.
“Sir! Wait, I...” She stuttered, which drew the man to a stop halfway down the road.
"Yes?"
“I...I’ve thought about your offer and...I’d like to accept if it’s still available? I-i mean, if I’m going to protect my community, I’ll need someone who I can count on...”
The man seemed to be frozen, and as he turned around, Maeve could see the large, frightful grin slithering across his face.
“Very well; you start tomorrow,” he said, then turned once again to continue walking. His final words uttered in the night air were: “Neat suit by the way.”
To which Nia replied, “Thanks; it was my mother’s actually,” and as she stared down at the raven feather he had given her, she finished her thought aloud.
“But I think it could do with some adjustments...”
Back on the street's sidewalk, Maeve stared at Nia, unbelieving of what she had just witnessed, but before she could say anything else, she could feel the same pull that tore her out of the Dreaming before, tugging at her to leave once more. This time rather than fighting it, she allowed herself to be taken away from this dreadful place; she wanted to be anywhere other than here.

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Maeve gradually felt herself being pulled back to consciousness as the same peaceful calm that had prevailed throughout her Awakening now guided her out of it and back to the real world. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep; then the sudden shock that she couldn't breathe struck her from her slumber; her eyes shot open, and she was back in the boardroom of Queen Consolidated, and at first, she was stunned to find herself back here until she found herself unable to breathe at all, her airway was clogged, and she desperately began to struggle.
"Hey, hey hey hey, it's alright kid, you're alright, just roll onto your side for me," it was the voice of Helena Bertinelli of all people, still mostly naked and was tending to her as she was involuntarily heaving on the ground below the desk.
Maeve did as she was told, rolling to her side just as she suddenly remembered how she had gotten back to the Dreaming in the first place; Maxwell Lord was filling her lungs with...oh god! She really was choking!
"Huruurrgh! Hu-hu..." But try as she might, she could find no air in her lungs, but suddenly she felt a hand on her chest, compressing her lungs and forcing globs of cum out of her mouth in spasms, lasting two, maybe four seconds, before finally she brought in a new fresh cool breath of air and flew up to a sitting position on the ground.
"Nia!" She yelled groggily, "Nia!..Nia!...*Burp* Nia! How could you!" She began to turn hysterical right when Helena's arms wrapped around her to steady her.
"Whoa whoa! Calm down sweetie it's alright, you're alright now," Helena consoled her, "That was a lot to take for your first go," mistaking the issue.
Maeve began sobbing weakly back, hugging her back "Oh Nia...how...What happened...?" She began to calm herself down slowly and when her vision began to clear, Helena's face came into view.
"Ms Bertinelli?" She said, slightly dazed, "W-ha-what happened?"
"You got filled, kiddo. Stuffed like a home cooked turkey on thanksgiving," she gave her a warm smile.
"How long was I out?"
"Around 4 minutes there, I had to pry Maxwell off of you with a tire iron," she joked, "Seems you made a lasting impression."
Maeve shivered a little at the memory, "I did...?" Her face reddened in embarrassment.
"Don't worry; your first time stays with you, sure," she put her hand on her shoulder, "But you'll get better and better as time goes on, you'll see."
She held out her hand, and Maeve took it, pulling her back to her feet; "I really hope that's not the case, I have no intention of doing that ever agi-" she noticed that Maxwell and Malcolm had already left; and Rochev was shaking hands with Mr Zamperini, as if finalising something.
A wave of sudden anger began to flood through Maeve; maybe it was leftover psychosis from her trip to the Dreaming and seeing her sister do such a terrible thing. Or, maybe it was the new realisation that her boss hadn't lifted a finger to help her after one of her co-members had stuffed her so full of semen that she passed out from asphyxiation.
"Hey!" She shouted to Rochev just as Bryan left the room, "What the hell was that!?" Her sudden rush of courage did not go unnoticed by the CEO.
"I beg your pardon?" Rochev iced.
"Beg my pardon!?" Her heart pounded furiously, "How could you just stand back and watch me be brutalized like that by those men..." Maeve snapped then stopped.
Seeing Maeve riled up like this amused the retiring head of Queen Consolidated; she couldn't help but snicker, "Oh god Maeve, if you're trying to start something you sure are going about it the wrong way."
Maeve stared Rochev down; as she began, her voice was low, and dangerous.
"I just whored myself out for you, and you just watched as they filled me full of so much cum that I could have died!?"
Rochev let that sit in the air for a few seconds between them, before looking to Helena who gave her a nod and then looked back at the younger girl.
"I hope you hardly expected me to hold your hand throughout the experience?" She said sarcastically, "If I had known that you'd be so wound up, I would have insisted they put it in your ass to loosen you up a bit."
Maeve suddenly took a step toward her boss, fists clenched but Helena put a hand on her shoulder, gently advising her that this wasn't the move. Suddenly all 3 of them could hear the spinning sound of chopper blades touching down on the roof above the office.
"Ah, that must be Mr Ramirez; now, if that'll be all, Ms Bertinelli, shall we take our leave?"
"Yes, I think that's a good idea," Helena replied, giving Maeve a knowing look as she passed her; as if to say whatever she was dealing with would work itself out.
"Wait," Maeve said, "What about my end?"
"End?" Rochev replied, raising an eyebrow, seemingly confused.
"Yes, my end, my end of our deal," Maeve's tone hardened a bit.
"Oh, right..." Rochev replied, "...You didn't think I was serious about that did you?"
Maeve's eye's flared a little as she took another step forward, "Ma'am, with respect, I've worked for you for over a year now, I always followed your rules without question. I made sure to do things the way you wanted so please, don't screw with me now; I didn't go through all that to leave empty-handed."
Rochev just smiled mockingly, "Oh I think you got your just desserts already," she eyed her groin area, "And just like all desserts, I'm sure the posting will ruin your waistline," Rochev began chuckling.
"Why you...Who did you sign to?" Maeve asked, rage filling her.
It took a second for the now former CEO to reveal that piece of information, but when she did, she looked away, slightly pleased with the bitterness on Maeve's face.
"I must say Ms Nal, strange time for you to grow a spine, but if you really must know I gave my share to Mr Zamperini of course, as per the deal, he lasted the longest; that little detail extended to all women in the room as well if you didn't pick up on that before...and if you weren't such a lightweight, you would have been awake enough to know that," she turned to Helena, "That man may be old, but he scratched an itch that I didn't even know I still had," patting her belly as a very unladylike belch came up out of it. Helena just smiled courteously.
Maeve couldn't believe this; she had gone through all of that and lost on a TECHNICALITY!?
"Hahahaha!" Rochev laughed a vile, sinister laugh, "Oh my god you're serious! Hahhaha! You should see your face you stupid little whore..." She gave her a derisive look, "Did you honestly think you had what it takes to fill my shoes? Hmm? You honestly thought you had what it took to run this company better than I?" She looked Maeve up and down with a disgusted look on her face.
Maeve felt the anger boil up inside of her, and with one regretful motion. She swung on her boss but Rochev simply moved to the side and kneed the young assistant so hard in the stomach that she flew back several feet and smashed into the warm sunlit window. She immediately slumped to the floor, slowly rocking back and forth in pain and disappointment.
"HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Rochev was laughing like a true villainous bully above the young girl now before taking in a heavy breath and saying, "Oh what's the matter little Maeve? Did you get played? Hmm? Did you truly think you could take me in a fight? That I wouldn't cut you down and plant you out like the dandelion you have always been?"
Maeve was crying now, her face wet with tears and salty with blood, "...You...You monster," she whispered. "Why?" Maeve asked, a little of the rage now having evaporated, "Why should you now get to just ride off into the sunset?"
"Because I am not a dandelion, I am a Ravager, and I take assertive charge of the situations around me, not wait for others to solve it for me as you do. That is the difference between us." And just to add insult to injury, the pinstripe woman spat on Maeve's limp, abused face.
And with that, Isabel Rochev and Helena Bertinelli left the office and headed for the stairs leading them to the roof.
Struggling to her feet after watching the chopper depart in the sky above her, the final insult hurt Maeve more than it should have as her anger finally let loose and the office around her was blasted in a bright explosion of light not too dissimilar to the explosion that had rocked the lab earlier that day, though whereas that explosion had destroyed everything around it, this plaster was much more 'push' then 'blow up.' The chairs and table all flew to the side of the room and crashed through the glass, sending them tumbling to the street below.
Wind gushed all around the wrecked office, blowing Maeve's skirt up, and as she headed for the door, she closed it behind her and curled into a ball at the base of the glass. She began to cry again, thinking about Nia's killing and Rochev's betrayal and how this day had just mostly sucked hard in more ways than one, when she heard footsteps coming towards her.
"Pardon me," The gravelly voice said, "Are you alright?"
It was Bryan Zamperini; her new supposed boss.
"I'm Bryan," He said, holding his hand out to greet her; she shook it back, wiping her tears away.
"Maeve Hannah Nal," she said, "I-it's nice to meet you properly, s-sir," her voice was jagged, unstitched as it found its way up to his ears.
"Likewise," he replied, not unkindly, "I must say, that was some rather Impressive fucking in there Ms Nal," he said putting his hands in his pockets.
Maeve held up her hands to stop him before he got the ball rolling, "Ah, please sir, I'd rather not talk about that."
He shrugged, "Fair enough, just wanted to acknowledge that you're a natural."
She didn't respond to that.
"So," he picked back up, "You seem like a girl who could use a drink."
Maeve didn't know what to say, "M-mr Zamperini! Uh...I."
"Don't drink?" He said cutting her off with an almost cheery kick in his tone, "That's fine; I don't either, alone that is," he gave her a nice smile, "Come on, It’ll be fun, I’ve still got some time on my side before I've gotta go meet Damien and Reva and I know just the place to drown our woes."
"What woes?" She said, "You just won the deal of a lifetime," the envious nature of her jealousy was obvious in her voice.
"Oh?" He said, pulling a signed piece of paper out of his coat pocket, "You mean this little thing? Here," he passed it down to her. She took it from his hands.
"Yeah," She sulked, looking at the paper, "Congratulations."
"It's yours if you'd like."
For a second it was as if Maeve hadn't heard him. Then she looked up, "Huh? Wh-what?!" She said slowly, disbelief crossing her face. "You can't be serious; why would you wanna give me this?"
The old man took in a breath of air and then exhaled, "Well...aside from already owning one of the biggest genetic companies this side of the Northern Hemisphere," he scratched his nose inconsequentially. He smiled as she suddenly stood up and hugged him, "Oof, haha, aside from that," he now chuckled, "All I'd like after a good romping session like that is a stiff drink with some good company...and a formal introduction."
"An introduction?" She asked, still caught off guard, "With who?"
"Why, with your new business partner of course, Mr Queen himself, he wasn't present for this little catastrophe, and I'd very much like to have a word with him about the future of the project."
Looking at the piece of paper again for a moment, Maeve felt like this was all a bit surreal. All it would take is a drink with this man and an introduction to Mr Queen himself for her to become a multimillionaire. She'd have more money in her life than any single other human being could imagine so she knew her only real choice now was to take the offer.
"You know what Mr Zamperini?" She said, "I've already sacrificed most of my standards and beliefs today in the shallow search for money and class, so, why stop now am I right?" She shrugged at him. "Let's grab a drink."
With that, she took her arm in his and started leading the way out of the building.

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20 minutes later
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Flying high above the city, the warm sun shone through the company chopper's windows and heated Isabel and Helena's entangled bodies as they passionately celebrated their newfound freedom by heading south with popped bottles of champagne, freely swinging breasts and a myriad of fluid swapping. The kisses lasted an eternity for the both of them until the pair broke apart to look at each other.
"We did it babe," Rochev said above her lover, looking down with the biggest smile on her face she'd probably ever shared with anyone.
"We did it," Helena echoed softly.
"I'm sorry," Isabel added, slinking down towards her pussy, "I can't quite hear you," she teased and slid her tongue along her slit lips.
"Ooooh! We're FREE!" Helena curled back as she felt her lover's lips sucker onto her clit and suck it softly into her mouth. "We're free! We're fucking free Izzy! Oh my god don't stop sucking me, make me cum!" she shrieked, rocking her hips back into Isabel's face, gripping the seat as she bucked her hips wildly against her.
"Mmmm," was all Isabel could respond with as she ate her thrashing friend's pussy like it were the first time all over again. Finally, after all the hard times apart, they were finally riding off into the sunset on the world's most expensive horseback ride. Everything was perfect, and Isabel was not wasting any time in starting this exciting new chapter of her life with her Helena.
She popped off for a moment, *Pop* "I'm not gonna stop!" She taunted, "Not until you cum all over my face!" With that, she stuck two fingers into her lover's wet hole and began fingering her in earnest.
The helicopter seemed to shake with every push she paced into her cunt, as Isabel kept fondling her lover's clitoris with her tongue. The utter bliss was almost too much for Helena to bear; she wouldn't be able to hold out for long.
"Let me taste you!" She gasped, "I won't let you," she breathed in, "Have all the fun."
Liking this Idea, Isabel popped her lips up off of her soaked friend and stood up. With one fluid motion, she slid all her loose clothing off to the chopper's floor, exposing her curvaceous form and glowing skin.
She slowly strode towards her stunned lover, with the sun still shining through the windows, getting closer with every step. She could almost feel Helena's heart beating from the chopper's seat and gave her a cute smile as she swung her gorgeous naked body over her own.
Facing opposite directions now, the two women's cunts dripped for each other, truly synchronized in this 69 position; Izzy dug in on her friend's wetness, which instinctively made Helena do the same to Isabel.
"MMMMMMM!" The women groaned in unison, each smearing their moist lips across the other's clit, tongue probed, licking and tasting as they penetrated the other's holes with several fingers; be it in the pussy or ass, it no longer mattered to them, their fantasies were finally being fulfilled.
"Did you miss me, my love?" Isabel asked fondly in a soft, silky voice, drawing the hazy response out of the brunette below her.
"Evfery shingle dhay," Helena muffled amidst her slurps, tongue plunging deep and slow to take in the wonders of this gorgeous woman above her.
The helicopter lurched again, "Hey! Ramirez!" Isabel popped off of her treat and shot forth a warning to the pilot, "Qut your perving and do your job!"
"Sorry lady," the pilot's voice said as the chopper began to level out again.
Looking back down she immediately went back to munching away on the gorgeous woman before her, giving her a series of long, wet licks along her entrance, driving Helena absolutely wild.
Helena didn't take this lying down of course; she retaliated in force by prodding a finger against Isabel's asshole, causing the dark-haired goddess to gasp with arousal and grip the side of the beige leather couch in pleasure. Izzy broke the surface of her oral pleasuring once again to mutter something inaudible, and Helena let out a moan of delight as she began to finger her anal hole.
An inch, then two, sliding in and out of the dark-haired goddess' body with expert precision. Helena could feel her internal muscles constricting around her finger, while at the same time her warm pussy's juices dripped all over her mouth as her friend winced on her cunt.
"Mmhmrmmrmh!" She murmured, popping off to say: "You're so mean you know that? You know my butt's my weak spot..."
Helena didn't say a word, instead pushing a second finger into her partner's anal cavity, then another; before Izzy could argue back, Helena had already begun to ram 3 digits deeply into her butt and began to taste her twat again while doing so.
"AAhh yeahhh!" She cried out, unable to hold it in any longer, "I love you Hel! Yes yes yes yes! Just like that, just like that, just like that, ooooh!"
There was no way Helena could deny it. She'd been denying it for the past few years but no more!
"I love you too Lizzy," she said slyly, smirking from beneath her lover's caramel calves.
Faster and faster she fingered as her lip-licking speeds picked up a notch; as her fevered pace finally topped out, and she shouted out in agonizing ecstasy.
"Argh! I'm cumming Izzy!" She squealed, slapping her friend's ass and began to squirm in ecstasy; Isabel was powerless to stop her friend as she jerked and bucked; she could taste the intensity of her friend's pussy on her tongue and went in for the final clit tingling assault.
"Uuuuuuuuhhhhhh!!!" Both women screamed out in orgasmic bliss; exclaiming in unison as each slipped their tongue as deep inside their pink-slicked holes as possible and riggled them around like an ice-cream cone.
With her lungs bellowing with the effort, Isabel let out a cry of joy as she squirted a gentle geyser of delight; the thick, sticky liquid coating Helena's face as she did too at the same moment, spraying upwards like a fire hydrant and Isabel caught as much as she could on her tongue.
Instantly, both women slumped on each other, exhausted and spent from their intimate romp. Breathing heavily, Isabel snuggled up to her own Helena and began stroking her long dark hair.
"This is everything I ever wanted Hel," She whispered into her ear with closed eyes and kissed her gently on the cheek. "I couldn't have asked for anything more."
"Me too Izzy," Helena cooed; after catching her breath as well, she turned to her friend and gave her a sweet smirk.
"So, where are we going?" She asked.
Isabel shrugged, "Wherever we want, I'm just glad we're finally together."
"I like the sounds of that," Helena said, grabbing her friend's firm butt which drew a giggle out of her.
Then suddenly the phone rang on the chopper's floor. Both women nearly jumped, quickly looking; it was Isabel's own personal device. As she reached for it and picked it up, Helena repositioned herself so that her head rested on her lover's naked thighs. She didn't recognize the number.
"Hello?" She answered, looking out the window of the chopper and leaning back on the soft leather of the couch; they were over the outer city's beach now. The ocean stretched out to meet the horizon like a still and beautiful abyss.
A man's breathing could be heard on the other end of the line.
"Hello?" Izzy repeated as shivers ran up her spine.
"Miss Isabel," A distorted voice said, "My kudos on the modern-day Bonnie and Clyde getaway."
Isabel's heart almost stopped; there was no mistaking it...it was him. But how? How did he know they were running? How'd he even know how things went at the meeting?
"How the hell did you get this number?" She demanded as her voice cracked.
"Let's just say that you're starred in my contacts list..."
"What the hell do you want?" She hissed into the phone; Helena noticed this change and sat up next to her friend.
"Who is it?" She asked as Isabel put the phone on loudspeaker.
"Good morning Ms Bertinelli," The contorted voice said pleasantly.
Helena looked at her friend and saw the growing fear stretch across her face. It was then she realised that this must be him. The man who had orchestrated them both to reunite in the first place.
"What do you want 'Siphon'?" She mocked the name into the phone.
"Why, I'd like to congratulate you both on a job well done of course; I find it quite amusing that two like-minded, beautiful females found true love in a city constructed by lascivity and greed."
Isabel's nostrils flared, "Listen to me you piece of shit," she put every ounce of honed intimidation she could possibly muster into the phone. "We're not playing your sick fucking game anymore; we're out, get the picture?"
"Like a portrait," he said tonelessly, "Of course you're out; it's because of you both, that I may now do what needs to be done, and for that, I offer you my most sincere thanks, enjoy paradise ladies..."
Then the phone cut off. The last few ominous words sloshed down Isabel's ears like a thick milkshake; she felt herself turning pale as she looked to Helena, who she herself too had a worried look of impending dread on her face.
Before either of them could say anything; an alarm began rigging in the cockpit, "What the hell’s that?" Rene Ramirez said with a rather unsettling tone.
"What is it?" Helena asked the pilot but he didn't respond immediately.
"Ramirez!" Rochev snapped, "What, Is, It?" She demanded to know.
"WE'VE GOT A LOCK ON US!" He screamed back, and the chopper suddenly pitched violently to the side, throwing Helena and Isabel fell together to the floor, each of them screaming aloud.
Both women lay stunned on the chopper floor, getting up just in time to look out the window to see a long white stream of smoke dissipating beside them.
For a moment it wasn't obvious, until it very much was.
"Oh my god!" Helena exclaimed, "That psycho has sent a heat-seeking missile after us!"
Rene's eyes were darting all over, from the sky outside to the radar on the dash, desperately trying to think of a way out of this but there was nothing he'd be able to do; they were above a flat ocean a dozen miles offshore! There isn't anyth-
"GET US OUT OF HERE!!" Isabel yelled to him, breaking his concentration but he just screamed back; "I CAN'T!"
The missile had begun to turn back around, It was now heading directly for them. There was no longer a chance of escape, no longer a chance of surviving; she knew they were going to die; this was a company leisure chopper; there were no built-in weapons or deterrent systems, nor any parachutes for that matter. Oliver hadn't seen fit to fit it with any. In the end, it seemed the Queen's incompetence would bring about her unfortunate demise after all.
"Izzy!" Helena yelled over the blaring alarms, trying to get her to look at her one last time.
And as Isabel turned her head, she saw her smiling back at her.
"I-i'm so sorry..." She said tonelessly as a tear fell its way down her cheek.
Both women cupped each other's faces in their hands as the warhead was no more than 100 feet away and was closing that distance with every second.
"I'm not…" Helena said with a small smirk on her face, drawing a final smile out of Isabel and the two women kissed their final embrace as the chopper exploded in a titanic fireball of molten heat and destruction and plummeted for the ocean below.
Terrified onlookers from the beachline below watched on as the smoke trail led to the exact spot where the ocean had swallowed the wreckage, as it disappeared below the waves…

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“DAD!” Came the worried cry of Nora West-Allen as she zipped to the edge of the hospital room’s door, using her slowed super-speed as she went. Once she arrived, she let the newly engaged Patty Spivott down next to her, who she’d brought from across town in her arms at almost the very same second after they'd checked the retro answering machine's missed calls and heard the news that Barry had been taken into emergency care after an accident at the lab. Patty swayed a little uneasily in the doorway as the overnight bag she had packed began to feel really heavy.
Nora, meanwhile was much more accustomed to the high speeds, and panic began to run down her face as she entered the room; she expected to find the worst waiting for her, waiting to hear that she had lost her father all over agai-”
“Nora!” Her father’s cheerful voice rang in her ears like it had been an echo through time, cutting through her panic just as she saw him. He was smiling from his hospital bed as a nurse stood beside him with a clipboard taking notes.
"What a nice surprise," he said jovially.
“Dad...you’re ok?” She said, coming to a complete stop from the surprise.
“Well sure?” He said, totally fine, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Nora zipped over and hugged her father from another era and began kissing his cheek rapidly at average speeds; soon, a dozen frantic little wet patches covered Barry’s cheek; Nora’s tears began falling uncontrollably, and she hugged him tightly.
“Whoa sweetie whoa, haha, what is-?” He tried to speak, stunted by the sudden display of affection.
“Hon?” Now it was Patty speaking, having regained her balance after the mind-melting race over here.
“Hey Pat...” Barry smiled at his fiancé, extending his free arm to take her hand.
“I-i don’t understand,” she uttered in disbelief as she took his extended offering and began to whip the anxious tears away from her face, “We were told you had been severely hurt...tha-that you had multiple broken bones, that there was an explosion at the company!” Her voice was short and drying up quickly.
“Hey..hey,” he mused reassuringly, “I’m ok strawberry, really I am,” that reassured her somewhat; it was the first nickname he called her back when they met at that ice cream stand back on Rhode Island. The sudden re-emergence of such an old detail brought much-needed relief of tension to his future wife, and she smiled back at him.
“I’m all better now thanks to this one here again,” he gently rocked Nora’s arm as he held her, “Everything’s fine; they said they’re going to discharge me in about 10 minutes, so there’s no need to worry.”
Barry looked back to Patty.
“Actually, I'd say I’m more than alright; in fact, I feel better than ever,” he said, curling his arm towards his chest, flexing his biceps which now looked even more monstrous in size than they had been the previous night.”
Both Patty and Nora’s eyes suddenly lit up, “Whoa...Barr,” Patty sputtered in mesmerised confusion, “Is it just me? Or did you somehow get even more jacked now than you were last night?”
“Looks like it,” he turned to Nora, who was comically admiring her father’s new physique by making small wooing noises and poking the mounds of tough meat that she was marvelling over.
“Daaamn, Daddy,” she uttered softly as both women stared at each arm. “You look like a proper-body builder now...”
“Yeah? Think I could give Oliver a run for his money on the salmon ladder now?” He joked, looking at Nora’s astonished face and then Patty’s.
“I don’t know about you two queens, but I can’t wait to try these new muscles out once we get home,” he reached around and placed a firm hand on both their butts, drawing a momentary flinch out of them each as they looked to each other and then back to Barry.
"Definitely~,” Nora said instantly, “Once I get my hands on you again...” she added with an excited flourish of her slender index finger, circling around his bulging arms for emphasis.
“Yeah, me too baby,” Patty said with a grin. “In fact, I’d wager you’ll be able to finally sell the treadmill once we get you back to your own bed; you won't be needing it anymore~.”
The girls looked to the door just as the Doctor came in accompanied by the nurse, who had apparently slipped away in the time it had taken for them to have their little reunion.
“Ok, Mr Allen is it?” The voice was formal and a little arrogant.
“That would be me...” He said, returning his cocky grin from among the two beautiful women on either side of his bed.
“My name’s Dr Ramsey Rosso,” the man introduced himself as he flipped through the notes the nurse had taken.
Nora West-Allen’s mouth nearly fell open at the mention of the name.
“Dr Ramsey Rosso? As in Bloodwork!? Son of the late Rachel Rosso, and a former friend of the great Caitlin Snow? That Ramsey Rosso!?” Apparently, the 20-something-year-old hadn’t been quite as quiet as she initially thought she was as everyone in the room turned and looked at her curiously.
“Um, I beg your pardon Miss?” Ramsey asked, perplexed. “How do you know my fiancé?” His smooth English accent came out levelled.
At those words, Nora fell absolutely silent, her lips curled up tightly as she felt her knowledge of this era becoming more and more redundant with each new revelation she was told.
“I...uh.”
“Uh, this is Nora, my adoptive daughter,” Barry smiled fractionally at Nora, which made her blush a little. “Please Doctor,” Barry said, changing the conversation back to his medical report.
“If you will.”
“Riiight,” Ramsey said, slurring the words after finding Mr Allen’s statement about the beautiful caramel goddess standing next to him a little hard to believe. “As you’ve no doubt already figured out by now, being a man of your reputation, and due to your being upright in that bed there, your body has sustained no undue damage, and your vitals have all returned to normal.”
“Returned to normal?” Patty questioned loosely with worry in her voice once more.
“Ah, you must be his next of kin,” he gave a small courteous head-bow in her direction, “Charmed.”
“Likewise,” she said courteously, “What exactly do you mean when you say, 'returned to normal?'”
“Well ma'am, your fianceé showed an alarming amount of dark matter exposure when we first brought him in here,” he said, flipping another page, “Heart rate was an astonishing 240 beats a minute at one point, higher than any human respiratory system should ever go in fact.”
“That sounds rather alarming don’t you think?” Patty put her delicate fingers over her own heart.
“Indeed Ma’am, we thought his heart might explode soon after, but as you can see, he’s fine now,” he said dismissively, “Now, if that’ll be all, I really do have other more injured patients I should attend to.”
“Uh, Doctor,” Nora said, “Just one more question actually,” picking up the medical report Ramsey had left on the chair.
“Yes Miss West-Allen? What is it?” Ramsey said with thin-wearing patience.
“You said the wound was much more extensive than we first thought; could you be a little more specific?”
“Well,” he paused, his eyes narrowed as he saw Nora eyeing up his medical report, “Miss West-Allen, while we did discover a very small amount of residual dark matter which had embedded itself into his body, the actual injury itself most definitely should have killed him.”
“Embedded Dark Matter?” Nora questioned in confusion.
“Yes, in his chest, there is a fragment of metal that’s about the size of your thumbnail lodged next to his heart; we believe it’s what made his heart rate spike the way they did, a few days rest with no strenuous activity should afford him a clean bill of health.” He was glancing at Nora now, their faces much closer than they had been before so as not to alarm Patty.
“Wouldn’t it just make more sense to remove the shrapnel piece?” She questioned.
“We tried that, but it's embedded right next to his central coronary vein about an inch inside the actual muscle itself; to try to remove it might cause more harm than good.”
Nora swallowed hard.
“I understand,” she started to say, her voice quivering, “But still, it’s remarkable that he’s not dead.”
“Yes, it is, but like I said, a few days off his feet with some well-timed physical activities should help acclimate his heart to heal itself naturally around the injury; now, if you don’t mind, I really must tend to my other waiting patients,” he said giving a courteous nod to the two women as he left the room.
“O-ok,” Nora said trying to make her voice heard by the man leaving rapidly down the hall, “Thank you Doctor! It was awesome to meet you!”
As she turned back, she looked at Patty who said, “Quite an overreaction actually.”
“Yeah, I guess you guys should get home now then?” Nora asked, a small look of sadness making its way onto her face.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Patty said, beginning to pull her fianceé up as she noticed the look on her face, “Nora? What’s wrong?” She inquired with gentle maternal phrasing.
“I... it’s just...” She seemed to be remembering something painful.
“Would you like to stay with us for a while?” Barry offered, knowing that this was the first real minute Nora had had to reflect on what her situation would be now that things had finally calmed down a little. He knew she had nowhere to go, no money to stay anywhere, and identification is kind of difficult when you cross an interdimensional threshold into a new universe where you never existed. And not to mention her friend Blackstar was still missing; it seemed like the right thing to offer.
“Really?” Nora said softly, “A-are you sure? I-i wouldn’t want to impose...”
“Nonsense,” It was Patty’s voice this time, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “You’ve saved my husband twice in the last day now Nora, both figuratively and quite literally; we owe you a lot, so please, feel free to stay with us for as long as you need, and besides,” she paused and smiled down at Barry. “It could be kind of fun to have a new flatmate to spice things up around the loft.”
Barry smiled back, “Uh-dj-yeah, she’s right Nora,” he said with instant agreeance in his voice, a little aroused by the idea. “We really do owe you everything, plus, a little help in finding your friend might go a long way too right?”
She had to admit, that was a valid point; for the past 2 hours, she had been racing around the streets and skyscrapers in a maze of turns since she had dropped her father off at Queen Consolidated while looking for her friend Mia, but had no luck in locating her, this wasn’t the city she remembered, and she had no idea how to navigate it, she’d need a guide if she were to find her.
“Ok,” Nora said with a small smile, graciously accepting their offer, “If you guys really are alright with it, I’ll stay with you.”
“Excellent,” Patty exclaimed as she clapped her hands together, “Then it's settled, alright hun, let’s get you up and dressed then,” she said to Barry opening the zip bag she had hastily packed when she was expecting to spend the night there and handed him a spare set of clothes.
“Aww, you brought my Goku Black shirt,” he said as he took the shirt from her, giving back a warm smile in return, “Baaabe, you really are the most thoughtful and beautiful woman in the world,” his crooning tone was laced with a layer of sensuality it didn’t have before as he leaned over to give her a small kiss on the cheek.
“Well, I know how much you liked it, and I thought we’d be staying here a little longer so…” She playfully said, “So I thought I’d make you feel as at home as I could, starting with our favourite show,” pulling her hand back, she pounded him lightly on the shoulder.
“Hold on...” Nora said, “YOU like Dragon Ball Z??” It came out a little more surprised than she intended.
“Oh yeah!” Patty said with sudden enthusiasm, “Barry got me into it; see, it’s all about an interpretation of the Monkey King, Sun Wukong and his journey to the-”
Listening on as Patty explained the premise of Barry’s favourite childhood show with perfect normalcy, Nora’s thoughts trailed back to her mother, Iris, in the future she had lost. She had remembered hearing all the many stories about how her parent’s love was a force to be reckoned with when she was young, but seeing her father together with another woman as he was now, Nora had to admit, she could see the genuine love these two shared with each other in ways she could never imagine her own mother in, uninterrupted by the heat of sex or the glammer of a jazz club.
Behind all the pseudo myths and legends she was told about them; these people turned out to be just as normal as anyone else, but what held them apart from all others was the love and understanding each held for the other on an almost cellular basis.
“That’s awesome,” she said to finish Patty’s explanation for her. “I-i’ll just step outside,” she jerked an adorable little motion at the door, “Give you two some privacy.”
“Ah! Not on your life young lady,” Barry teased ironically, clasping his hand softly around Nora’s waistline and pulled her back towards his hospital-garbed body and kissed her with a fiery new passion, the same passion he had shown Patty and the time remnant copy of herself the night before; she could feel his hard-on rapidly growing under the thin blue and white material.
The kiss broke with an audible pluck from Nora and her back straightened as she looked into Barry’s eyes again, a devious sparkle now residing in them.
“For better or worse, you’re now a fully integrated part of our little makeshift family...and I think deep down you know that,” he finished with a smile.
“Family...?” She said softly, looking up into his eyes; for the first time since entering the negative speed force and coming out as one of the only two survivors of the old existence, Nora West-Allen felt truly safe; almost home.
“C’mon Dad,” Nora said to Barry, “You're embarrassing m-”
“Oh my god...” Patty’s voice cut her off, but it sounded distant this time, as the two of them turned around to see her looking up at the small hospital TV in the corner of the room; her eyes were wide and unblinking.
“What is it?” Barry and Nora asked at the same time.
“Barr...isn’t that your?” Patty uttered but couldn’t finish.
On the screen, a breaking news report was being shown across all stations; no matter which way they changed the channel, the same broadcast was being played.
“Turn it up,” Barry requested, and Patty picked up the small grey remote, turning it up to 60% max volume. The words of a woman came out at an intense rate. Nora West-Allen recognised her immediately.
“Mom?” The surprise was evident in her voice as a dark-skinned woman with short black hair similar to Nora’s, stood on the edge of the pale white sand as the wind blew her hair around in a flurry of random directions. The microphone she spoke into was static and choppy due to all the gusty wind around her.
"Iris," Barry said softly.
“---and we still are unsure as to how many casualties have actually resulted from the violent and deadly phenomena that has occurred here this morning,” the camera panned up to show a smoke trail and emergency helicopters hovering above the sea. “Above SCNC Beach but, as you can see behind me, emergency services are still working hard to salvage what remains of the wreckage while the body count only continues to---”
She stopped and put two fingers to her earpiece, steadying it so she could hear what was being said directly to her.
“Uh-huh, understood,” she said softly, “I am just now receiving word that the ruined aircraft belonged to Starling Central National City’s very own Queen Consolidated, and that CEO Isabel Rochev and Pilot Rene Ramirez as well as an unidentified woman have been killed in the tragedy.”
“Oh my god...” Nora said to Barry speechlessly, and all three occupants of the small hospital space looked at each other grimly.

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“While there appears to be no obvious explanation as to why the aircraft suddenly exploded, eyewitnesses say they saw the aircraft apparently take evasive maneuvers shortly before the blast occurred. SCNC Police have confirmed that they have recovered a number of items from inside the aircraft, including-”
“Jesus...” Maeve Nal’s eyes could not look away from the small screen on the edge of Al’s Dive Bar even if she wanted to; her body was tense as the news flash rattled every nerve in her system.
“She’s...dead,” She said to the older man sitting on the stool beside her.
“Looks to be,” Bryan said rather laconically and took a sip of his drink before popping it down on the table with an audible clunk. “Can’t say I’m surprised, unfortunately.”
Maeve’s eyes were still wide with the shock of what she was hearing; “You’re being awfully cavalier about this sir,” she told him, her tone holding a hint of confusion.
It must have shown, because the older man tilted himself around to look more directly at the younger girl.
“Sorry,” Bryan replied coolly, “I don’t mean to seem crude Mistress Nal, I just-” he stopped for a moment and swallowed.
“Seeing a helicopter crash like that it...reminded me of a very unpleasant memory..”
“Oh..” Maeve started to feel a little uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say. “I see.”
“Yeah, though I must say Mistress Nal, you don’t seem that upset at this news,” Zamperini husked, and sipped down more of his whiskey; a distinct stinging went down as he swallowed.
Maeve looked at the grey-haired man with an awkward look.
“Not really no,” Maeve admitted, “She wasn’t exactly a kind woman,” she took in a deep breath. “Especially when it came to the work that she did. It made me uncomfortable just looking at her,” she shrugged, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel right now,” she took another sip. “But I’ll need something stronger than this if I’m going to get through this.”
Zamperini watched Maeve down the rest of her drink and placed the empty glass on the table.
“That I can sort,” he said, as he signalled Al for a refill.
“Hey Al, 2 Coluan IQ enhances please,” he hollered to the bartender. “With a jolt of Blue Vengeance on top thanks,” the strange names stumped Maeve for a second, but after Zamperini explained that the drinks were made specifically for a race of half techno-organic beings and that this particular concoction was the only thing that would make it past their 12th-level intellect, she quickly got her head round it.
Al was a big man with a longstanding reputation for providing service and sanctuary for a wide variety of alien races; he spoke a wide array of languages fluently and never turned away someone who had had a hard day. Bryan might not have been an alien, but Al was so there was no reason to deny him entry to the establishment.
Once he returned with 2 fresh glasses, he picked up the used ones and moved on to another individual who was there alone and had just ordered a different drink. Zamperini watched as Maeve took the small drink from the bar, inspected its mesmerising green and blue colour shifts, and proceeded to down it in a single second. The sour taste hit Maeve immediately; her nose screwed up instinctively to shut out the smell, and she coughed loudly, covering her mouth with her other hand. The sight drew a light-hearted laugh out of Zamperini, which the small woman was unprepared for, and soon she found herself laughing along for the first time all day; she was laughing so hard she had to wipe away a tear from her eyes.
“Ahh-don’t lau-haha-gh,” she sputtered, trying to stifle another coughing fit. “It’s just a bit stronger than I thought it would be.”
Zamperini’s greying face grew a broad smile.
“I’m not laughing, haha,” he replied, still chuckling.
The laughter slowly gave way as the idea of her sister crept back into her mind like an unwanted and untimely guest.
“Everything alright?..” Bryan said gently, this time with no laugh.
“Yeah, well, no, actually,” Maeve sighed, “Can I tell you something?” She asked, raising her head painfully.
“Sure,” he replied, his tone encouraging.
“It’s my sister,” she said in a quiet voice. “I think she’s in trouble.”
“Oh?” Zamperini said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, her name’s Nia; see, this is going to sound strange but...I'm not human,” Maeve explained, "Well not entirely, see, I'm...kind of a hybrid really, m-my mother's from the planet Naltor, and my fathers of earth." She felt silly trying to explain things this way, but she felt she had to try.
“I don't think that sounds strange at all?” Zamperini said, staring into his glass.
“You don't?" Maeve said, surprised.
"No, Mistress Nal, we live in a world that was attacked by invaders from another planet. Led by a Kryptonian Worldkiller who would have wiped out the entire population of the city had it not been for the efforts of another alien from the same planet who bravely took the fight to them and saved our people. You kinda get used to strange after that," Zamperini said, chuckling again.
"Yeah, I guess when you put it that way," she said, as Al came over and refilled her drink.
"So your sister's one of these, Naltories as well?" Bryan asked, seeming kindly curious now.
"Uh Naltorians, yes," she corrected him softly. "See; she and I both come from a long line of Naltorian heroines who are, due to inherit the ability of Oneiromancy; this power manifests exclusively once in a generation among the women of Naltor. It allows us to see vague glimpses of the future."
Zamperini raised an eyebrow. "The future you say?"
"Yes," she replied. "And I think my powers manifested back there during the-" Maeve fell silent and shivered.
"Uhhuh, so did you see something?" He asked with interest, "Some kind of vision of tomorrow or something like that?"
"Sort of, well maybe," Maeve sighed, "I don't know exactly, I couldn't tell if it was of the future or of the past, but that's not really the issue, see, I saw my sister when I was in there, and she had the exact same powers as me."
"But didn't you say it only manifests once in a generation?" Zamperini said as Al kindly returned with the next drink.
"On the house," the big man said.
"Thanks Al," Bryan said.
"Yeah, that's what's got me so confused," she said, brushing her hair back, "For my entire life, I was told it only personifies in one, but now I'm finding out that it's manifested in two? I don't know what to believe anymore."
"Maybe there's some special significance," Zamperini suggested, "Like maybe there's some hundred or thousand-year overlap that allows there to be two wielders of the power?"
That was something Maeve had not considered, though she thought it unlikely since her mother had never mentioned any sort of irregularity with the power before.
"Or maybe you were just simply lied to and this, Oneiromancy, can actually exist in two separate entities; stranger things happened.
"I dunno, maybe. I guess I just need to talk to my sister and ask her if anything strange has happened to her in the last few months," she said.
Al filled it for her. "Thanks Al," she said with a little more drunkenness in her voice than before.
"Months?" Bryan asked, sticking on this point. "You mean you're not in contact?"
"No um," she stuttered, choking back on her drink a bit. "We're uh, not on speaking terms right now. Not since Mom passed..." Her expression turned sullen now.
"Oh," Zamperini said, "Sorry I don't-"
"No it's fine, it's just a long story, and I'd rather not get into it right now," she muttered, "Anyway, that's not what's got me worried."
"It's not?"
"No, in fact," she paused and sighed, "You'll think I'm crab-shit crazy but; there's this legend passed down throughout the generations of the Naltorian people, well, more of a warning than a legend."
"Oh?" The man next to her said as he drank his drink down.
"Yeah, something called the Eramthgin, basically a boggy man of infinite unrest who was prophesied to exploit the dreams of the innocent and twist the minds of the amorous individuals to her own salacious whim; until its victims could no longer tell what was fact and what was reality. I-I never believed in it myself but-"
"You saw something in your vision that made you reconsider?" Zamperini said, looking at the table.
"Well...yeah," she replied and looked at him with a questioning gaze.
“You think your sister’s been what? Influenced by some ancient alien demon or something?”
Maeve stopped; she hadn’t yet considered that, the Eramthgin was said to be a being of total deception, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that the mysterious man in black and red she saw coercing Ni’s anger into breaking that man's neck could have very well taken that form to slip behind her sister's defences.
"So, what do you plan to do about it?" Bryan said, snapping her out of her trance.
“I have to find her," she said with confidence; "If what I saw has already happened to her then-"
"Whoa whoa," the man quelled, "I'm all for family reunions believe me, but how are you even going to find her if you two aren't speaking? It's not like you can just call her can you?"
"Well...no," She admitted, "But I can't let this thing find her and twist her mind, so she does what I saw her do," she crossed her arms, "...She's always been naive," she looked to the window, “But this is something different."
"I see," he agreed, "But hadn't you best get a hang of these new powers of your's fist? I mean if you're going to try to keep this thing away from her, then you'll need to know how to take it down first, right?"
Maeve nodded, "Your right," and returned to the more sober part of the conversation.
"Anyway, first things first," she pointed back towards the Tv on the wall. "First I've got to help Mr Queen deal with this catastrophe," she indicated to the chopper crash, still airing on every channel.
“Well, best of luck there; from what I’ve heard through reputation, Oliver Queen is quite the philanderer in every sense of the word, and it took the fiercest qualities of Mistress Rochev to keep him at bay; if you’re to step into her shoes now, when the company needs strong leadership more than ever, you’ll need to be ready.”
The sudden realisation that half the weight of the company now rests neatly folded in her pocket made Maeve shiver with an anxious little kick, all the way down to her toes and she looked back down at the bar top.
“Yeah...” She murmured weakly and nodded.
Bryan stood up and left money on the bar; “I have every confidence in your capability, Mistress Nal,” he said with a little smirk on his face, “But if you’re going to keep this sort of high profile position, then your party etiquette has to be up to snuff, wouldn’t you say? If you'd like I can show you how to handle him, the choice is yours, but know that once I’m gone, the offer walks out with me.”
She thought about it for a moment, she had worked under Rochev for almost a year, and in all that time the woman hadn’t even bothered to teach her the first thing about business, yet here was this man, who had given her the keys to the company like it were frivolous to him. A man like that may have some decent things to teach; and without wasting any more time, she grabbed her coat and stood up.
“Lead the way,” she said with a smile.

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“Rene Ramirez leaves behind a 15-year-old daughter Zoe Ramirez & Co-CEO, Oliver Queen has yet to issue a public statement-”
*SMASH!*
The large screen cracked from the glass cup hurled at it by said CEO, Oliver Queen as he sunk down even more liquid in the exact path of his third vodka shot.
“How’s that for a public statement!” He yelled drunkenly from his corner booth, clearly intoxicated, “Cunt got what she deserved!” And he threw another glass at the already broken TV.
“Hey!” A voice screamed at him from the bar, “You gonna pay for that shit Queen?”
“Fuck off Chill-Laaame,” he slurred drunkenly and threw a wad of hundreds onto the table. “Mmph, there! Happy now?”
Markus Blaine, dressed in a yellow unzipped jacket with white fur on each shoulder, stared at him for a moment before collecting the cash and putting it in his pocket.
“Don’t spend it all at once,” Oliver said, making a few mocking kissing noises in his direction.
The man was about to retaliate when John Diggle took a step forward from beside the booth.
“Uh-uh.”
The barman of O’Shaughnessy’s kept his scowl glued to Oliver until he left.
“You know Oliver, one of these days; I’m not going to be here to save you from the bigger guy.”
“Nahhh,” his boss wavered, “You’re the biggest guy of all dig; in here,” Oliver patted his chest where his heart lay, which drew a smirk complimented with a pair of rolled eyes from Diggle. “Why would I ever need anyone else to protect me and my interests?”
“Alright, alright,” the larger dark-skinned man said, “Just don’t go starting unnecessary shit like that, ok?”
Oliver impulsively drew a mock salute to his forehead and uttered “Shir! Yes, Shir!?”
Sometimes Diggle thought his boss’s immaturity knew no bounds; when he saw someone walk in.
“2 O’clock,” he said, gesturing to the door.
“No, it’s naught?” Oliver slurred and looked at his watch, “It’s only...”
“The door Oliver,” John’s steel voice said, and Oliver looked up.
Approaching them was a lanky man with brown hair and a slick suit.
“Ah!” Oliver said, clapping his hands together once as he realised who this was.
As the figure approached their table, he held out his arms companionably.
“How lovely to see you again Mr Thomas,” Oliver stood up to give the man a hug but chuckled like a 12-year-old girl when the last word came out for some reason.
“Ah Queen,” Colin Thomas said, “When are you gonna get that haircut we talked about?”
“Same time as you quit your job and become my hairdresser you cheeky shit,” Oliver joshed drunkenly before both men suddenly exploded into hysterical laughter.
“Come on sit, sit,” Oliver said, gesturing to the booth he had acquired, “You too Dig, come sit,” Diggle hung back, staring at Oliver’s guest until he sat down, then, and only then, did he sit down with them in the semi-circle booth.
“So, I take it you’ve seen the news?” Oliver said, fumbling for words.
“Oh yes, most unfortunate,” Thomas said with a warm smile. “Kind of makes me retroactively glad I got in that pussy ahead of time.”
“Ahhahahahaha!” Oliver laughed so much that he was nearly sweating, but that could have also been the excess amounts of alcohol he had already washed down.
“Ahhh...so,” Oliver slapped his hands together; how’d it go? Had no problem sneaking in?”
“Course not, you know you miss quiet the party Queen,” Thomas said, slipping his hand into his coat pocket to pull something out.
Diggle flinched, reaching for his weapon when Oliver stopped him.
“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa! Dig, relax...” He said in a soothing tone, “Keep that trigger finger steady; our friend here is just handing something over, but perhaps it’s your face that displeases him Mr Thomas, or, should I say...Dibney?”
“Dibney?” Diggle said confused.
“Jigs up I guess,” Oliver said; at that moment, the newcomer’s face began to stretch and contort in ways normal muscles should never move. Within a few seconds, a different man’s face rested on the body that sat across from the burly man.
“Hey there,” it said, “We haven’t been properly introduced,” he moved his arm above the table but did not extend it to shake the bodyguard’s hand, until something happened that Diggle could not describe. It began to stretch like silly putty, and proceeded to elongate across the table from the man’s wrist to where Dig was sitting. “Ralph Dibney, professional polymorphie and private investigator, how do you do?”
Diggle clenched up, sickened by what he saw, but took the man’s hand anyway and shook it, “John Diggle.”
“Quite a grip you got there John-boy,” Ralph gawked, “Your circulation must be tight.”
Diggle swallowed and laughed, “Uh...yeah..”
“Mr Dibney here is a new friend; met him at the Golden Booty where, well,” Oliver stopped, moving around the table with his grip on Diggle’s shoulder, “Relax Dig, we’re here for business ok?”
“Whatever you say, sir,” Diggle’s eye’s never left the man’s long arm. “So you...stretch?” He said bluntly.
“Stretch?” Ralph Dibney said with a hurt look on his face. “Nah, I don’t stretch; I contort. I elasticize, I elongate, man.”
“What does that mean, Mr Dibney?” Dig couldn't help himself; his curiosity was speaking aloud for itself.
“Well to give you the shorthand of it, I can contort, and compact various parts or my entire body into a myriad of different shapes and sizes,” Ralph explained, “But wait!" He exclaimed, "There's more, I can also adjust my bodies form into anyone I clearly picture within my mind, this includes my voice," all the while he explained, his face had been shifting into a mirror reflection of Diggles own face, "And accent,” he finished, perfectly echoing Diggle's voice.
“Huh...” Diggle said while his eyes bulged in disbelief, “Wow...”
"Wow indeed my yummy chocolate friend...” Ralph mimicked perfectly; there was a jokey side to the man that Diggle couldn’t tell if he liked or not; for some reason, he gave him the impression of a discount Jim Carrey you might hire for a cheap TV show rather than a big budget film.
“Alright, now that we have introductions out of the way,” Oliver said, "Shall we get down to it?”
“Ah yeah, right,” Ralph said, shifting back to his normal form and took a small chip out of his jacket pocket.
“There we go, one secret drive of all secret naughty recordings as promised,” Ralph said, opening his palm to reveal a tiny back flash-drive; within a blue stripe down the middle.
“Yes!” Oliver exclaimed, “Exactly what I wanted!”
Ralph held on to the small device for a few seconds. “Heyy don’t mention it; that’s what friends who pay me to sneak into high rises and steal classified reports are for.” His manner on the word pay was clear.
“Ah yeash right!” Oliver said, reaching below the desk at his feet and grabbing a suitcase which was put on the table with a loud clunk. He flipped the safety latches and pulled up one side to reveal the contents inside.
“$100,000, as agreed upon.”
“Very nice, here you are my good man,” Ralph said, putting the device on the table as well and the two men swapped covered hands.
“Not that I’m complaining or anything,” Ralph gleaned, putting the money inside his pocket. “But what could possibly be worth so much to the King of Queen’s that you're willing to pay that much for one little drive?”
“Information is power Stretch,” Oliver said, slipping the drive into his breast pocket, “And secrets are worth far more,” he smiled at Ralph. “I shouldn’t have to tell that to a man of your talents, now, I have 2 more jobs for you if you’re interested, double the money.”
Looking comically surprised, Ralph asked, “Double you say?”
“Yes, 100k for half, and the other when the job is done.”
“What? Gonna have me do another lap around your lavish office or something? Cause that’ll cost ya triple, I swear if I took a blacklight in there I’d get pregnant just from the touching the door handle.”
“No, this is personal,” Oliver said, chuckling a bit before pulling out another wad of hundreds from his other pocket.
“Well sugar daddy,” Ralph joked, “What’s the gig?”
Oliver leant in and spoke with a serious tone, “Simple, last night on the way back to the office someone put a hit out on me, nearly got Mr Dig and me here,” he said as Diggle just nodded. “Someone with deep connections wants me gone, and I’d like you to find out who gave the order.”
“Uhuh…any descriptors?” Ralph said raising an eyebrow, “Would go alot faster if I had somewhere to start.”
“I’ll tell ya later, should you choose to accept.” Oliver smirked.
Ralph leant back in the booth’s seat, and rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth; finally making a clicking noise, he said, “Alright then, and what’s the second task?”
“Missing persons...” Oliver said, “I want you to find someone for me...”
“Oh? That’s a little uncharacteristic of you Queen but, sure, got a starting point for me?”
“Yeah, she is a blonde girl...about my age, under a green hood, carries a bow and arrow and is a lot like me in many ways actually...I think you better call your partner in for this one hotshot...”

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12:00 am – 9 hours before the presentation.
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Steel grey doors opened with smooth efficiency as the metal elevator finished its multi-story climb to the top floor of an unknown building. January Galore, dressed in her torn black spandex, stepped out into a long corridor. She clutched her arm with pained care, as if it had been injured.
Past the large wooden doors was an enclaved office, the area was plushly furnished, but it was still pretty hard to see the charcoal desk at the far end in front of all the large window walls that gave off a gorgeous view of the city below.
As she walked further into the red space, she passed two creamy white leather sofas that stuck out from the rest of the darkness; the centre of each held a tell-tale sign that its pure white freshness had turned to a beige brown in the centre from constant usage; as if a severe amount of grinding had taken place on the both of them.
January did not like the idea of hanging around here for longer than she needed to.
"Ah, Ms January," A woman's voice came from the window chair at the charcoal desk; she cocked her head towards the sound and away from the sofa.
It was a woman's frame; long stocky legs shone brilliantly in what little light could be caught from under her pristine black dress and approached the spandex-slacked woman with unhurried care.
"I trust everything went well?" She gave an accommodating smile to a hushed January, who did not respond immediately.
"Where's your boss?" She said coldly, "Where is Siphon? Off exploiting another vulnerable female, is he?"
January's interrogator gazed at her over her shoulder, it was hard to tell in this low light, but she thought she could detect a slight slippage of irritation coming from the mysterious woman.
"He has a more pressing matter to attend to," the enigma said smoothly.
"A more pressing matter?" Ms Galore's voice jumped, "Riiight, and so let me guess, he left his right-hand pet behind to deal with the rest of his obligations?"
Her silent interrogator responded with a slight exhalation of annoyance, "I find your attitude most tiresome, Mrs Dibney, or I guess it's just Ms Dearbon now since you were divorced, right?"
A standoffish silence ensued.
The woman shrouded in darkness sat down in the comfiest of the two leather chairs in front of the leather-bound girl, and she smiled up at her through cherry red lipstick, "Yes, I know who you are, now quit wasting my time already and take off that ridiculous mask so that we can talk like mature adults for a moment."
Letting a tense moment pass between them, January sighed and brought her hand to the base of her throat before pulling up a layer of seemingly hidden skin from under her top; she then began pulling her own face off like something out of a Mission Impossible Movie, until a new face rested on her shoulders.
"Hah! Oh wow," The woman said as she clapped her hands in sarcastic amusement, "Bravo!" She clapped again, "I must say, your real face looks far more adorable than that ridiculous disguise of yours."
"Shut up," Sue Dearbon snapped, "It's called covert infiltration."
"Oh, I imagine it is; it certainly seemed to work on Oliver Queen back there," she smiled, "Surprised he didn't rip it off in all honesty, on account of how rough he was getting with you towards the end."
"Pff, Jealous much?" Sue asked darkly.
"Hardly," the other girl answered, "Not everyone in this town is so easily manipulated into getting others what they want as you seem to be."
"Oh hi kettle, name's pot, have we ever met?" Ms Dearbon retorted.
"Watch your tongue you trollop!" The woman's patience finally cracked, and a fearsome echo encased her voice right as toxic purple and pink flame lit up from her hands; it lit the room around her in brilliant shades, and for one single, unfiltered second, Sue could see the mysterious woman's face with no obstructions...and it froze her dead in fear, "Utter one more smug slander at me, and you'll find out what it's like to have your worst fears violate your mind and body so hard your brain will melt out of your head!...He told me I had to play nice, but he said nothing about what state you should be in when you leave..." She hissed.
"Aww, seems he's keeping his bitch on a rather short leash, doesn't it?" Sue mocked, standing her ground and the woman's nostrils flared, but just before she moved to strike, she took in a deep breath to calm herself, and returned her gaze with an unamused smirk. The seated woman then held up a hand to stop this childish bickering match from growing any larger between them.
"Enough of this prattle; let's get down to business, shall we?"
Sue released a breath she had been holding in; she wasn't entirely sure what to expect with this woman, but she knew that she'd have to play nice if she were to get back what she wanted.
"Fine," Sue said, "You were right; he bought the DNA extraction line, just like you said he would." She hated to admit that fact, hated to give this woman any kind of credit whatsoever. Her careful planning had allowed Sue to break into Queen Consolidated with such ease, making her way past all of the security protocols with little to no effort at all. Even though Sue had been the one to break in and fellate herself all over Oliver Queen and John Diggle, it all was in service of a greater ruse...
"Of course he did," the woman responded calmly, "After all, he has the looks of a billionaire playboy, but unfortunately, underneath all that bravado and swagger lies the brains of a simple fuck boy, totally predictable in every way." There was an air of smarm about the woman now that Sue found irksome, as if she felt pretty vindicated in her plan succeeding in such spectacular fashion.
"And what of the formula?"
Sue rolled her eyes, "Yeah yeah, I put your little L.U.S.T concoction into the machine's matter supply before I even got into the vents; by the time they find out version 69 has been tampered with, it'll be too late."
"Oh, I suspect things will work out just dandy," the woman said with the self-assured air of someone who had just won a game of chess that they had been playing for a long time.
Sue almost laughed.
"Oh yeah? And tell me, did your little crystal ball predictions foresee the arrival of a blonde woman dressed like the Emerald Archer crashing through the window of his building, cutting off my escape?"
"Naturally," she uttered so casually that it made Sue's skin crawl.
"And you didn't think to give me a heads up at all?" Sue replied snidely.
"What for?" The woman asked, now sounding genuinely surprised, "I knew you'd escape, so why take the chance of altering the outcome by warning you ahead of time?"
"Why take the chance of-" Sue said staggeringly, "Because she nearly skewered me multiple times and almost threw me off a bloody rooftop!" She raised her voice, as she told the woman, "I was nearly killed because you decided to keep secrets from me!"
The woman merely raised her eyebrow, and steepled her hands in front of her face. "That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, not mine," the much calmer voice said patronisingly. "To tell you the truth Ms Dearbon," she stood up, and began sauntering over towards the window again, "It hardly matters to me what happens to you; my only concern is making sure I get my sweet, sweet, 'justice' on those who have wronged my people."
Sue sighed, "I couldn't give a shit about your petty vendetta against those who attacked your people; I'm here for what I am owed," her tone turned chillingly serious.
"No," the woman said from the window over her shoulder, "I imagine you don't." She turned to look at Sue again.
"I was promised, by your boss, that if I did this, my parents would be returned to me unharmed..."
"Yes, about that," the woman replied, waving her hand dismissively, "Circumstances have changed Ms Dearbon; thanks to your efforts tonight, Queen Consolidated is about to take a massive shift in managerial direction. From now on, all of the profits from the establishments we own will be transferred directly to our treasury accounts...And as a result of this shift, Siphon feels your parents will be...better utilised with us to aid in our operations."
Sue had had enough, her face twisted right as she was about to reach for her gun when the woman spoke again. "Unless of course, you were to help me on a little...personal quest of my own? And upon completion, I would personally deliver your parents back to you without a hair on their heads ruffled, and convince him to use someone else for our plan?"
Sue stared at the woman for several seconds, still fuming just below the surface at this latest betrayal. "What kind of quest?" Sue breathed, searching desperately for calm, stopping only millimetres from the concealed weapon.
"Oh, nothing too in-depth; you see, I merely require someone of your clandestine abilities to help me infiltrate a certain rich family's Manor very soon for a little fun..."

Next Chapter: Mia is still M.I.A
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Alternate Timeline: The Cumming of Siphon