Tara and Ceri (part 1) (Patreon)

Tara and Ceri

Commissioned by TRM
Written by HarmonyMotion with Au Goose

Chapter 1 - Tara Waters

Tara stepped off the raised center stage of the primary keynote presentation at VenusCon, a beauty trade show where Venus Beauty Inc was the flagship corporation that set the tone for all of its slightly smaller, less successful competitors. The company that Tara had founded with her late husband, Caelus, once a titan of the industry, was now shrinking in market space ever since his unfortunate bout of organ failure. The official statement was overwork and stress, but only Tara, Caelus, and a handful of scientists knew of the secret technology they were working on in order to upend their competitors and make a breakthrough in technology.

It was no small leap, either. To think it was the beautician’s industry that had, as far as Tara and Caelus knew, made the first big step into working with nanite technology. People would have scoffed. Nanotech, for the sake of vanity? Tara and Caelus used to mock over dinner. But denying truth and desires, the basic human impulses that they both knew to be real and imperiously powerful, was akin to trying to save one’s own life by pointing a gun to their head and pulling the trigger.

Little daughter Ceri sat in on their dinners, smiling and laughing at all the right moments with her parents while not fully comprehending what they were talking about. She was only twelve at the time. Her father would get up from the seat of their enormous dining room table, walk over to their daughter, pick her up, and put her in his lap. And so, Ceri continued to laugh with her parents. It was a happy time.

But ever since his untimely death, Venus Beauty Inc began to slide into decline. Without Caelus bearing half of the burden of running the company, Tara became overwhelmed with both the day-to-day operations of the company, along with the oversight of the clandestine, cutting edge research.

Caelus always said it was a matter of time until their competitors caught up to them. It always worked his way, he said. One company makes some sort of hit product, other companies copy or improve it, the lawyers try to patent and then sue the pants off each other, then repeat. Nanotech would have changed everything.

The new product would have catered only to the ultra-elite. A personalized nanotech regiment of not just beauty products like foundations, blush, eyeliner, etc, but even anti-aging appearances, catered specifically to the client’s DNA. Completely programmable, self-functioning, self-repairing. It was what they were supposed to present as their keynote speech at VenusCon.

Unfortunately, research had stalled. Without human test subjects and with environmental (or terrorist groups, as Tara called them) protesting the use of animals in testing, Tara and her research team had been completely stifled. Reading DNA and configuring nanobots to respond to it was serious business—the ramifications of releasing a half-baked product would surely be the end of the company. And maybe even a new sort of black plague, if it went really wrong.

Tara would not allow that to be her husband’s legacy.

So for the keynote speech, it was just another product in their line of Always Shine. Slightly different, subtle colors to cater to an even wider gamut of women. Improved mascara brushes and anti-clumping “technology” (Tara scoffed at the use of that euphemism now). Reception was lukewarm, as it should have been. She was trying to change the world here! Trying to accomplish the vision that she and her husband had set for themselves.

Tara left the stage in a combination of controlled anger and frustration. Her black heels clacked along the raised stage, emphasizing the marvelous look of her strong, toned legs in a knee-length black skirt. One couldn’t tell by looking at the way she dressed, but Tara took really good care of herself. She could’ve had a career as a fitness model, if not for her far loftier goals in beautifying all women. All women who could afford it, anyway.

As she descended the three small steps off the stage, Hector, Venus Beauty Inc’s lead scientist, met her at the bottom. They snuck backstage to the sound of half-hearted applause.

“Ms. Waters!” Hector whispered. “I have bad news...”

“What?” Tara answered sarcastically. “Don’t tell me our little keynote speech sucked!” she mocked. “It’s a relief Caelus wasn’t around to see this shitshow.”

“Our labs! They’ve been attacked again!”

“Fuck. Now, of all times?” Tara’s sense of humor evaporated.

“We’re tallying the damage at the moment. These stupid eco-terrorists don’t truly understand what’s going on here. Very unlikely that they’re after our technology. Just general mayhem and destruction.”

Tara stood still, took a deep breath, and sighed.

“Excellent speech, Mrs. Waters!” A brown-nosing employee with a headset came up to congratulate her.

“Shut up. You’re fired. Hector, let’s walk,” Tara began to move without giving whoever that idiot was another glance. “And where is Macy? I need her to contact Ceri. Tell her to order dinner herself. Sounds like another late day for me.”

The publicity coordinator just stood there, stunned.

Chapter 2 - Ceri Waters

“Yes! Be freeeeee, little piggies!” Megan whispered.

“Come on, we have to get going!” Ceri ordered her friends. “And stay out of sight of the cameras! Surely the immoral bitch in charge will have heard of this incident by now!”

“How do you know so much about these buildings, Mama Bear?” Brad whispered as she followed their leader’s instructions to a tee. She hadn’t steered them wrong yet.

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. Come on, go go go!”

Ciel’s phone rang. It was her mother’s assistant.

“Tried to call you. Your mother apologizes that she’ll have to miss dinner again. She says to please order whatever you want. Have a nice meal.”

“Who was it?” Megan asked.

“WE HAVE TO GO!”

She took her little ragtag band of animal loving freedom fighters and headed back out into the cold air and the setting sun. Ciel specifically didn’t want to attack any later than the current hour. The change of the guard presented a vulnerability that she could exploit. The shroud of night was an illusion; the guards on shift had nothing else to do then and would surely be alert to any indiscretions.

They made it to the relative safety of their black, unmarked van. Adrenaline flowing in their veins, blood pumping so hard they could feel it in their ears, Megan drove their vehicle through the streets and back alleys of the outskirts of New York and parked it in an abandoned, disused complex. They quickly stripped off all of their suspicious looking clothing, cheered their success at freeing some honestly violent pigs (though who wouldn’t be violent if they’d been kept in a cage against their will?), and went about their separate ways on foot. They would meet in secret again when Mama Bear came up with new plans.

Ceri, code name Mama Bear, had never divulged her real identity to her little eco-minions. No sense bringing that kind of drama up. Besides, if the police ever caught one of their group, better that they couldn’t snitch on her. Compartmentalize. That’s the most valuable thing she’d learned from her parents in all of those discussions. Everything was on a need-to-know basis.

Her mother and father were busy all the time and hardly made time for her. Mostly she just got to experience her father’s compassion at the dinner table. The two of them always spoke of changing the world, and no matter what Ceri did to try to impress them, they didn’t seem to care. Well, she was changing the world in her own way now. And for the better, as far as she was concerned.

Her mother Tara hadn’t been distant before, but ever since father died... even the once a week dinners evaporated. Mother was always working, working, working. “Your father would have wanted this, your father would have wanted that,” it began. Then, she didn’t even hear from her mother anymore. All messages came from Macy, and they always started the same. “Sorry, but your mother is...”

Confrontations with mother always escalated to yelling, though escalated was perhaps the wrong word. It started at yelling, and then... whatevered to colossal heights. Inevitably one would blame the other in her father’s name, citing the wishes of a man who no longer existed.

“Oh but he does exist! In Venus Inc! Why can’t you see that!” Tara would shriek.

“I would think Dad wouldn’t want you to abandon your only daughter!” Ceri shrieked back.

More of the same, usual, pointless stuff. How would putting lipstick on a pig, evidenced by her heroic efforts tonight, change the world in any meaningful way? Make it shallower and stupider, perhaps.

Ceri kept her grades up at Westengles, her private charter school. She was still her parents’ daughter, gifted with their natural intelligence and drive for hard work. Also, it provided a convenient cover for her nighttime escapades, or so she thought. Who would suspect the daughter of the company, valedictorian or salutatorian every year, who’d never spoken out passionately about animal freedom, to be the mastermind behind corporate espionage and sabotage?

She mused all of this over as she made her way home to the expensive highrises along the upper side of New York.

“Jeeves, call Pizza Pep.”

Her phone beeped before going to a ringtone.

“Pizza Pep, can I take your order?” the voice answered back over her car’s speakers.

“One Circle of Life pizza, double sausage,” she said for the umpteenth time. This line was well rehearsed. Ceri got a little joy of it every time, musing about what Brad and Megan would think if they knew that she loved eating meat.

“For Kerry?” The woman was all too familiar with this order and the sound of Ceri’s voice.

“Yes,” Ceri answered. She’d taken to pronouncing her given name with a hard K sound, in further defiance to her mother’s wishes.

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes. You want some chicken wings with that?”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Boss said to throw it in for free.”

“That’s alright. I can pay.”

“No worries, Kerry. Boss insisted. Our driver will be there soon.”

The call ended.

Ceri got home to their expensive mansion and started up the incinerator. The upside to having experimental researchers as parents. Once it was roaring, she tossed the bag of clothing to burn to ash, deleting all traces of her gang’s covert operation. Then she changed into her usual punk outfit and awaited dinner.

A calmer, no longer adrenaline fueled Ceri kicked her pantyhose clad legs and feet up and turned on the TV, scanning the channels for news of her sabotage. Dressed in a pair of short denim shorts, a tight red logo tee featuring the Buzzcocks band, a chic black leather jacket afforded by the Waters fortune, all topped off with a spiked black collar, Ceri did her best to display her devil-may-care attitude. She’d inherited her mother’s good looks, but there was nothing she could do about that, she justified to herself. She’d even gone to the trouble of dying her blonde hair red, before gradually changing the gradient to a dark shade of purple as it traveled further down. The only physical feature that matched her mother now was her captivating blue eyes.

There was no news on the TV that Ceri could find. Her phone rang. She tapped it, unlocking the ornate gate that blocked the driveway up to their lavish house.

Sure enough, Pizza Pep rang the doorbell soon. Ceri greeted the huffing delivery boy who’d hurriedly climbed up the steps for her sake. He handed over the pizzas and gave her a shy look, hoping for the rich girl’s approval even more than a large tip. He only got the latter.

Tara didn’t come home that night. No big deal. Business as usual. Ceri left the half uneaten pizza with its heaping meat toppings out on the dining room table, closed the box, and went to bed.

Her next strike against Venus Beauty Inc would just have to hit hard enough to make headlines.

Chapter 3 - Heavy Waters

“What a mess,” Tara waded through the debris of one of her labs in the outskirts of New York. All things considered, it wasn’t so bad. These... thugs, she reluctantly called them, had no sense of value at all.

“It seems the most important samples of ours are still intact,” Hector adjusted his glasses as he examined vials of clear, colorless liquid that contained their nanites. “I suppose we should count our blessings that these are just eco-terrorists worried about the lives of some animals instead of actually stealing our millions of research.”

“Eco-terrorists isn’t right,” Tara thought out loud, vocalizing the same issue with the word “thug” she’d used to categorize them. She picked up a shattered piece of glass and looked at it with disdain. The lab smelled like pig feces. She wrinkled her nose.

“What do you mean?” Hector asked.

“Use that big brain of yours, Hector,” Tara scoffed.

“Um... pardon?” He looked at the nano-samples.

“I mean on things outside of our research. How did they get past our security?”

“Ah. Um...” Hector was clearly out of his depth, despite being a sort of de facto number two these days with Caelus gone.

“Is this corporate espionage? An employee of ours seeking to cause trouble, sell our secrets? You, for example, have access to all of this.”

“Wh-what?! Mrs. Waters, you can’t seri-”

“Calm down, Hector. I told you to use that big brain of yours. I’m just speaking in hypotheticals.” Tara looked a broken computer monitor. After examining the attached CPU, she stood up and continued to speak.

“So, what do you think, Hector? Is it an inside job?”

“Uh...” Hector looked blankly at Tara. “No...?”

“And why not?”

“I guess... the most important samples are here. If it were someone on the inside, they would have taken that.” He was starting to get it.

“And these disk drives are still intact too. Who smashes up a monitor and leaves the valuable data...” Tara rapped the computer with her knuckles, “...here?”

“But why are they not eco-terrorists then? Maybe just some anarchists looking to cause trouble.”

“How could they have gotten in past security?”

“Oh right. Um...”

“I don’t know that we’ll get any answers by sitting here and thinking about it,” Tara sighed. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t you go home?”

“And you, Mrs. Waters?”

“I’m going home to rest too.”

After Hector left, Tara sat down in a misshapen heap on one of the lab chairs. Without someone around to put up her strong facade, she felt the weight of defeat on her shoulders. The convention had been a disaster. The company’s stock value was steadily sliding downward for the third quarter in a row. And while they’d made progress on their research, it was still so, so far from ready to going to market.

People had suggested that Tara go public with the company. Including some of her own senior positions within the company. But she’d be damned if she would give up control of what she and Caelus built up with their own two hands. No, that was out of the question. And it wasn’t even a question of someone coming to see what they spent their R&D dollars on. It was the principle of it all.

Still, even if they had something tested on mammals, using it on humans was a wholly different subject. And what kind of red tape would the FDA subject it to? Even if they did get a successful result, the government would put them through approval hell. Would they ever recoup the money in time as the company died a slow, steady death?

Tara checked her smartwatch. It was 8:00 PM.

She looked at a large, jagged piece of glass on the table. Her blonde shoulder length hair, the hair that she’d been so proud of her whole life, had slowly been losing its color. She’d been maintaining it with blonde shampoo.

Her body was fit. Toned. Strong. Tara did her best to maintain her impressive physique. People who thought self-improvement was shallow simply didn’t have the dedication she did. Even with her grueling work schedule, she found time every day to exercise and lift.

But the signs of age were appearing. No matter how in shape she stayed, nothing could hide the fact that she was getting creases and wrinkles. Well, a face lift could, but seeing the disastrous results in so many people who underwent the operation, Tara didn’t consider that an option.

Her skin was becoming sun spotted too. She picked up the large piece of glass and examined her own reflection. There was no escaping age. Except, unless...

Tara sat up straight, fixing her sloppy posture. With a deep breath and a new resolution, she plugged in a different monitor to look at their research notes once more. The issue of who these saboteurs were took a backseat as she looked at all the different parameters.

Fuck it. She unwrapped the plastic off of a syringe, took a deep breath, and pricked her finger. Dropping her blood into a vial, she plugged it into their machines. With a press of a button, their machinery began to program the colorless, odorless nanites to respond to Tara’s DNA.

There was still time to back out, Tara thought to herself. Her heart pounded in fear and anticipation. How disfigured would she be if it didn’t pan out? Would she die a slow and agonizing death?

No, that was the thinking of the weak-minded. Safety had been a top priority, of course. And they had a kill switch on the nanomachines. Nobody ever made progress by being timid. Tara couldn’t be the first person to go into space or the first person to walk on the moon... but she sure as hell was going to be the first person to devise and benefit from her nanomachines, dammit!

The computer beeped. The process was complete. A tray with a lone glass vial slid out from their glass containment.

It had to be applied topically. Tara opened one of their creams, poured the vial in, and with a breath of trepidation, stuck her fingers into it. How would it feel? Would it sting? Prick? Cause searing pain?

She was almost disappointed. It was simply wet. She pushed her fingers into the thick cream and began to swirl it about. When she was satisfied that it was truly well and cohered, Tara began to slather it over as much of her body as possible. Globs of it dropped onto the marble countertop. She smeared at it with a finger before giving up at retrieving all of it.

Putting the lid back on, she slid the cream into her pocket, took the remaining vials of nanomachines for safekeeping, and made her way home.

Chapter 4 - Youthful Waters

Tara awoke around 6:00 AM, long before her alarm went off. She expected to feel groggy, drained, but she felt... great. There wasn’t even the feeling of grogginess after waking from inadequate sleep. Remembering her brave (or foolhardy) experimentation last night, she threw off her covers and immediately ran to the bathroom, large enough to be a whole living room for any ordinary citizen.

The first thing she checked out was her face. Tara had always had an elegant look to her, like a model from a previous generation. But age had begun to crack her previously perfect facade. And there was only so much makeup that could be applied before people would begin to notice a flaw in the illusion.

But Tara saw no flaws in her face. Wait, hadn’t she fallen asleep in her makeup with her contacts still in? She quickly ran the cold water and wet her hands, preparing to rinse her face and grab the makeup remover and cloth pads. But when she ran her fingers over her skin, it didn’t have the powdery, caked-on feel she expected. No, she thought as she continued to splash water on her face. It was her natural skin she was feeling.

With her head still bowed down toward the sink, Tara’s day old disposable contacts somehow loosened themselves and fell off of her pupils. And Tara could swear that her vision became clearer!

When the contacts had finished circling the drain, Tara looked back up at her own reflected visage with clearer eyes. Her skin was so soft! And smooth! She pinched and tugged at her face, examining her youthful looking cheeks and the crow’s feet around the edges of her large, deep-set, crystalline blue eyes. They seemed to positively glow—like her soul was too powerful to be contained within her new, beautiful vessel. Tara almost fell under the spell of her own gaze.

She pulled and stretched at her skin out of reflex, but all it did was warp her youthful beauty in a cartoonish way. Apparently the signs of her aging, sun damaged skin were gone. She hoped. Examining her arms, she marveled at how supple her skin was, now completely smooth and devoid of hair. No more sun spots, no more moles. Just strong, toned, well-defined biceps and triceps from over a decade of lifting and her demanding fitness regimen. Except now they looked even more cut and sculpted than she remembered.

She took the opportunity to examine her hair while she continued to press the skin on her forehead, still uttering in disbelief. The roots of her hair, the darkest part which she endlessly tried to color as it grew, looked as bright and shiny as spun gold! Every strand of her hair looked like a fortune, worth its weight in... well, gold. Her shoulder length hair hadn’t grown any longer, merely thicker, voluminous, like the digitally enhanced images they put on shampoo commercials.

Maybe Tara should seek to create and market a new product, she smirked.

She continued her exploration of her body. There was so much left to trace, to explore. Had her nanomachines really done this much in one night? Their simulations suggested that the entire process would be gradual, and yet, Tara felt certain she had to be one of the most beautiful people in the world right now.

The CEO had cranked the settings to their maximum, throwing caution to the wind last night after she felt that everything was falling apart on her. The nanomachines were supposed to gradually improve her, massaging and repairing, even enhancing her DNA. And then repeat the process endlessly until it achieved the desired effect, or until the machines wore off.

She’d put the setting as high as possible, well outside of safe testing range.

Her collarbones were high, tight, and defined. Regal looking. Tara would have to be sure to wear clothing low enough to display them proudly to the world.

Speaking of low enough, she traced her fingers down her body to her new pert and perky breasts. They’d always been rather small, but she had been proud of how gravity-defying they were, thanks to her bench presses and chest exercises. Big could be okay, but shape and strength were better as far as Tara was concerned. Caelus had certainly never minded. He’d pawed at them in an amateurish fever every time they’d had sex, marveling at how sexy and well-formed they were.

But now, Tara had it both. Why not both big and perfectly shaped?

Her new tits had expanded from a small B to what she imagined was a nice, full C cup. She glided her fresh new fingers over those wonderful orbs, luxuriating in their soft, warm, supple feel as she hefted and tested the weight in her palms. They filled up her youthful looking hand quite nicely. And they had no hint of sag, just as perky as that of a blossoming teenager.

Her abs, too, looked marvelously powerful. And she wasn’t even flexing them right now! That confirmed it. Her muscle mass and density must have been enhanced too! None of the scientists had thought to test this, but Tara did. She knew that strong was the new sexy, and she ran her own clandestine experiments, hiding the results from Hector and the other researchers.

Each muscle was its own spectacle, powerful, hard, and well-defined. The cut grooves of her abs would have made an aqueduct builder proud. The rivulets of water when she showered would definitely serve as a nice tour guide through the marvelously sexy muscles of her midsection, her six pack deserving the attention of any who looked at it. And it wasn’t just her tummy too. Two additional, well-carved chunks of rock hard flesh made up her obliques as well. And the muscles covering the spine of her back, something she’d worked hard to cultivate through free weight lower body training, swelled beautifully when she turned and flexed.

Her biceps and triceps were as marvelously cut as the rest of her. Tara flexed her arms proudly. Big, but not too big. Still svelte and feminine. And so, so powerful looking.

Her butt, thighs, and glutes were no slouch either. All told, Tara spent 30 minutes that morning just exploring her new body, flexing and looking, admiring and giggling. She touched and squeezed her flesh when relaxed, then when tensed. This was makeup on a whole different level. This wasn’t an illusion that was supposed to present itself as reality; this was functional.

When contracted, Tara could barely put a dent in herself! And she knew she could squeeze hard. Really hard. Her makeup brush had been proof enough. The thought of relying on that little stained brush seemed so passe now, so she had held it between her fingers and just pinched. The plastic Venus Beauty brush snapped into two jagged halves!

A shocked Tara examined her fingers. There were no marks on her skin at all. No bruising, no pain, not even a hint of redness. A wicked smile crossed her face. Grabbing another brush, she placed it in between the crack of her protruding, well muscled ass. With a little giggle, she snapped that brush into half a dozen pieces as well!

Just how strong was she?!

Out in the bedroom, she heard her phone ring. It was Macy’s personalized jingle.

Shit, she hadn’t even showered yet. Tara raised an arm and sniffed herself. She smelled... nice. Fragrant.

Whatever. Throwing caution to the wind (which she’d already done last night), Tara went to answer her personal assistant’s call. With a real pep in her step, even walking felt easier now!

“Macy.”

“Mrs. Waters. You and your daughter and some associates have a memorial for your late husband this morning. And then you have a meeting with Janine Alberta about acquiring her company. If I may suggest, we can delay this meeting until you have... recovered.”

“Recovered?” Tara raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow that needed no sculpting. Did Macy know something about what Tara’d done last night?

“I’m sure you were up late with Hector dealing with the aftermath of the eco-terrorists. It would not show weakness if we explained that to Ms. Alberta.”

“Ah, no. No. Don’t cancel. I am in fine shape. ...Thank you for worrying, Macy.”

“Of course, Mrs. Waters.”

“I’ll be ready for the memorial as well. Have you been in contact with my daughter?”

“Yes. I’ve arranged separate transportation for her per her request.”

Tara sighed. “Very well. It’s for the best.”

After they hung up, Tara immediately ran back to the bathroom to smear more of her nanomachine-laden beauty cream on her body.

---

Tara strode into the mausoleum where Caelus’s body was kept. The help had laid out some carpets and rugs to help dampen the echoing sounds within those haunting marble walls as the string quartet performed some inoffensive background music. Two long tables with plenty of finger foods were laid out neatly in rows, with a full bar service and bartender waiting at the end.

It was a relatively small gathering. His death had taken place so many years ago, and with Tara’s attention totally swallowed up in work, most of the acquaintances they had kept had drifted away. Only a few scattered friends attended, as well as the original Venus Beauty Inc founders or researchers who shared the same vision that the Waters had, came to pay their respects. Like Hector.

Tara was dressed modestly, covered in a smart black pantsuit and a white blouse. Nothing fancy, but nothing too informal either. She felt guilty that she was annoyed she couldn’t wear something more provocative to show off her new body! But there would be plenty of time for that later.

Clutching her purse tight, Tara suppressed her rage when she found Ceri by the bar. Judging from the empty glasses and sloppy posture, she’d had quite a few already. And she hadn’t even bothered to dress up one iota! Still playing punk, her disgraceful multicolored hair completely disheveled, her daughter simply had no sense of shame!

Tara stormed over in a silent rage.

“Ceri!” Tara whispered in an angry hiss, pronouncing her daughter’s name with a soft c as she and her husband had intended.

“I go to Keri now,” she wobbled on her feet and tilted her head back in laughter, enjoying her defiance.

“You go home right this instant and change! This is your father’s memorial! I’ll have Macy make the arrangements.”

“Yeah good one Mom!” Ceri announced a little too loudly for Tara’s tastes. “Why don’t you have Macy raise me? God knows you aren’t.”

“Ceri!” Tara pronounced it to her own preferences. “We can fight another time! For now, you need to respect your dead father.”

“I do respect Dad, Mom! It’s you I don’t like! Waiter, gimme another vodka tonic!” She turned back to the bar and tried to end the conversation.

The bartender looked warily, first at his boss’s disorderly drunk daughter, then at his boss. He knew who was in charge around here.

Tara gave him a death glare. He quickly got the point.

“Sorry ma’am, I’m afraid that’s enough...” he replied politely, but firmly.

“GIVE IT TO ME!” Ceri shouted.

“Enough!” Tara grabbed her daughter’s slim arm with a closed fist.

“Ow... OW!” Ceri yelled. “Mom, you’re hurting me!”

“Don’t make a scene!” Tara spat.

But Ceri’s desperate struggling and the contorted look of pain on her face was more than convincing enough. Tara’s daughter yelped and flailed, trying to escape her mother’s iron grip.

“Ceri! Ceri, I’m sorry!” Tara immediately released Ceri’s arm.

Ceri just whimpered as she cradled her arm and looked at her mom in fear.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Tara reached out to stroke her daughter’s face. Ceri flinched, but Tara’s touch was gentle.

“God Mom, have you been working out your fingers or something?” Ceri’s voice was calmer now. More even and measured, with still a large overtone of pain endurance. “You trying to kill me?”

“Bartender, two gin and tonics, please,” Tara ordered. Then she went back to soothing her daughter.

They shared a drink to help Ceri ease the pain. She guzzled it down, then ordered another. Tara didn’t stop her.

“I’m sorry, baby. Work has been crazy lately.” Tara tried not to let her disapproval shine through as her daughter shotgunned her fizzy booze.

“Just like it has been for the past eight years. You always say that.”

“Let’s not fight today. For your Dad, okay?”

Ceri turned away from her mother and put the sweaty glass back on the bar. She considered ordering another one in defiance, but puking and having a massive hangover wasn’t worth the embarrassment she could serve up to her mother. And she did like Dad.

“Okay. But only for Dad,” Ceri relented and turned to Tara.

“Okay, sweetie. Come here.”

The two embraced in a tight hug with Ceri’s face buried in the crook of her mother’s neck. The nanomachines that Tara had slathered onto her skin began to trickle over to her daughter.

“Nice perfume, Mom. Can I have some?” Ceri got a deep whiff of Tara’s new scent.

“It’s... experimental. Maybe when it’s safety tested and ready.”

Ceri instinctively rubbed her cheek against her mother’s skin, deepening the contact.

“And can you stop calling yourself Kerry?” Tara tried.

“Don’t push your luck.”

The rest of the ceremony went relatively uneventfully, with Macy looking hopeful for the mother daughter duo. A few boring speeches later, everyone dispersed.

Chapter 5 - Swelling Waters

“Ma’am, we’re approaching Companions. Janine Alberta is ready,” Macy informed Tara as she chauffeured her boss to a crucial acquisition meeting.

“Mm hmm. Yes, ramp up production on Project Z. Yes, it’ll be expensive. I don’t care. ...Yes. Do it. We’ll have more funds soon enough.” She hung up.

“Good, Macy.”

“Do you think Companions will sell to us? What about Monet?”

“That old hack? I’ll convince Janine to go with us. There’s no way she’ll risk it all to sell to an unproven company.”

Still, the Monet company was formidable. They worked only in perfumes, but they’d quickly gained the lion’s share of the market against well-established incumbents. And after years atop that industry, now they were looking to expand into other beauty products. Janine Alberta and her burgeoning company, Companions, would serve as a fantastic launching pad for Monet.

The last thing Tara needed was a new up and comer rising in the ranks and causing Venus Beauty’s stock to plummet even further.

Macy pulled into a VIP parking space and killed the engine. The electric vehicle whined silent.

“How do I look?” Tara asked.

Macy looked in her rearview mirror through the open sliding glass window that separated the front seats and the back. The sight of Tara’s powerful arms moving so fluidly, her impressive biceps flexing as she fiddled with the collar of her blouse and unbuttoned the top button to reveal her sultry decolletage left Macy speechless for the first time ever.

The trusted, no nonsense brunette assistant just ogled and ogled the sight of her boss’s full, spherical, symmetrical breasts. At this point, Macy had spent the majority of her career working for Tara, but she’d never seen the woman as beautiful and ravishing as she did now. And this was after ten years with the same boss!

Somehow Tara was looking stronger than ever, her hair shinier and silkier than a touched up photo of a model. And those breasts! How could someone as wickedly cut as her fitness-obsessed boss sport such a large chest? Of course, many who trained and modeled went under the knife for enhancements, but Tara had taken no such time off. How had they become so full, those swells so tantalizing?

Macy was completely gobsmacked.

“That’ll do, Macy,” Tara smirked. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave. Take some time and do what you like.”

Macy remained speechless. She just continued to stare at Tara’s breathtaking bosoms, And then stared at the sight of her boss’s strong calves on display below her black, knee length skirt as Tara’s muscles rippled with every confident step she took toward the building.

Only after Tara had exited the car and was ascending the steps to Companions did Macy blurt out, “You look really good, Mrs. Waters,” to the sight of her sculpted calves rippling fluidly.

Tara smiled as she heard her assistant’s rapid mumble loud and clear. She hadn’t realized that Macy had been muttering it under her breath from inside the car, a dozen feet away.

Strutting into the large, sleek, black office building, Tara let the cool air conditioning waft over her as a wave of it rushed by her when she opened the door. Her hair blew black as if she were in a movie, announcing and dramatizing her grand entrance. And why not? She felt fucking fantastic!

The receptionists waiting at the front desk fared no better than Macy. They just stared and stared at the regal, towering, powerfully built woman before them. Her blonde hair radiated like woven gold.

“Tara Waters. I have an appointment with Janine Alberta.”

The two of them, one male, one female, both stared at Tara, absolutely stunned.

“Never mind, I see my guest badge... here!” Tara’s eyes glowed as they scanned right through the marble top to the little alcove beneath where the important items were kept out of plain sight. She placed her left palm on the speckled ledge, leapt off her feet and supported her entire body weight with that one arm, snaked her right arm into the little cubby, and plucked hers right out.

“Cheers!”

The two receptionists got a rushing whiff of Tara’s natural perfume. They both moaned in arousal and sighed in contentment.

Tara marched past the security gates with a scan of her guest badge. She began to realize that something... special was happening to her. Her sensitive hearing picked up the sound of the elevator traveling the 20 floors of the building. Ding two three four ding two three four ding two three four...

Companions was still a relatively new and private company, so they inhabited the top floor. Tara could just imagine her blood boiling while she was forced to wait in that stupid box ride upward. She was way too full of energy for that!

Taking a sharp turn toward the stairwell, she kept her hearing tuned to the elevators as she began to climb the zig-zagging stairwell. Fifteen steps each, then about face and fifteen more. 30 per floor. Her long legs pumped, slowly at first, easily taking every other step in her classy high heels. Maybe she’d have to take them off if they bothered her.

She went up one floor by the same time the elevator she’d been tracking dinged.

Her feet felt fine. Her heartbeat... calm. No, even calmer than calm. When she really focused (while still ascending the stairs), she swore it was pumping like that of an olympic athlete! Long, strong thuds in between shockingly long moments of silence.

Had the elevator stopped running? Tara made it up another floor without hearing its little chime.

She went up two floors before the elevator dinged again.

Just how fast was she going?! Tara dabbed her face, expecting to feel the mixture of sweat and makeup clinging to her face. And then she laughed. Her makeup was their nanomachines mixed with cream, and there wasn’t a single trace of moisture on her perfect forehead.

Really pushing herself, Tara pushed herself for real. She leapt six steps in a single bound, pirouetting on the landing delicately and swiveling 180 degrees to repeat the process. She was like some kind of ballerina, leaping and balancing on her tippy toes before making another superhuman jump!

She couldn’t know it, but to anyone else, she would have looked like a blur. Jumping twelve steps now in a single bound, tapping down, and then leaping up the opposite twelve steps.

Out of curiosity, she made it onto another landing, but instead of turning, she pushed off with her toes, instantly killing her forward momentum and performing a beautiful, soaring, graceful backflip over the next twelve steps. Tightening her core, Tara swung her legs over her head and landed on her heels before leaping forward once more.

Backward and forwards she went, alternating high and long jumps with high and long backflips. And her face was a mask of pure exuberance the whole time.

She arrived on the 20th floor and flung one leg forward, arching her back and thrusting her chest to the sky with her arms flayed toward the heavens above and behind her like a gymnast sticking a landing.

The elevator dinged for the third time.

Smoothing her business outfit, Tara swiped her badge and let herself into the Companions office.

Janine was sitting in the lobby waiting for the famous beauty mogul. It was a weekend, and she had no other tasks to perform. When she heard the side door beep, she did a triple take. First, because she wasn’t expecting it. Second, because had the bigwig suit of Venus actually climbed 20 floors to come see her?! And third... because she was fucking beautiful.

“Janine Alberta? It’s nice to meet you in the flesh,” Tara strutted forward and extended her manicured hand.

“M-m-my pleasure...” Janine gawked.

Janine had been a model in her past life. Her face was recognizable, and she had a modicum of devoted fans. Enough to get paid, not enough to live a lavish life and be a six month fling with a famous male celebrity to be written up in the tabloids—but that was fine with her. She’d always had more of a mind than those other models. This small, private company with plenty of funding, and now, interest from other companies to acquire, was proof enough of that.

But Tara was the pinnacle of both of her worlds. The shimmering, radiant blonde should’ve been a household name! Perhaps in her apex, the fitness model industry had not boomed yet. Because Tara was far too toned and built for the line of work that Janine had modeled in. Society hadn’t been willing to accept strong, bodybuilding women yet.

But to Janine’s eyes, Tara was the complete package.

“Shall we talk business?” Tara prompted.

Beads of sweat dotted Janine’s forehead. How long had they been embracing hands? And there wasn’t a lick of perspiration on Tara’s body. She smelled lovely, like a floral spring breeze. How did she make it up those stairs...

“Hello?” Tara smirked. She squeezed with the tiniest bit of pressure to get Janine’s attention.

Janine yelped. “Uh, yes! Forgive me, let’s go to a conference room. Do you need any water?” Janine threw a knowing look at the fire exit that Tara had climbed.

“No, I’m fine.”

“I suppose that’s how you keep in shape,” Janine commented. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Tara smiled.

Janine gave Tara a tour of their small office. It was only a 100 person company on site. Tara listened the whole way.

“A well run operation here,” Tara nodded. “I can see from your financial projections that you expect to be in the black within a few more years.”

“Yes. Hopefully sooner. Even now, we’re operating at only a small loss.”

“Venus Beauty is ready to offer $25 million to acquire your company.”

Janine gave Tara a look. $25 million only? This must have been the negotiating tactic of a seasoned veteran. The value was disrespectful.

The brunette chuckled. “Sorry, I think we’re far apart. And you have a competitor too. Gerard Monet and his group are offering twice that.”

Tara twirled her blonde locks, eliciting a twinge of jealousy (and more) from Janine.

“That devious wretch? I promise, Venus Beauty will leave your personnel alone. All of your assets, your human capital, we’ll retain all of them. Monet is looking for something more hostile. There’ll be no guarantee for your people.”

“Even so, this is too little. And this is simply your word against his,” Janine countered, trying to stand firm against a far more experienced, and far more confident adversary.

“$25 million,” Tara reiterated. “And you will report directly to me. That’s a powerful position.”

Janine wasn’t sure.

“Think about it. And tell me, where do you produce? I’d like to check it out myself. And, Gerard is a snake. You’ll see soon. Have a nice day.”

“This can’t be--” Janine was about to protest. But she held her tantrum. This had to be part of the game. “Alright, Mrs. Waters. I’ll be in touch with you. And with a much larger offer from Gerard Monet.”

“We’ll see,” Tara smiled.

She took the staircase on her way out once more. Janine let the door click shut loudly, waited a few seconds, and then opened it once more to try to catch another glimpse of the stunning yet conniving, lowballing businesswoman. But she was already gone.

“How was the meeting, Mrs. Waters?” Macy asked when Tara got back to the car.

“Good. I found out what I needed to know. Take me to the office. You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Yes, Mrs. Waters.”

Sitting in the back seat with her polished legs crossed, Tara applied more of her experimental cream to her lightly bronzed, smooth skin.

Chapter 6 - Water Beats Rock

Tara, now dressed in a skintight jumpsuit and a pair of pumps, stood outside of Gerard Monet’s corporate Rockwell office. She’d waited impatiently for Macy’s car to leave, and then had run across town on foot to execute her bold plan.

The hundred mile trip was as effortless as her twelve story stair climb. Her blonde hair stayed rigid, pulled taut by the shearing forces of wind created from her incredible velocity. Legs pumping, arms swinging, Tara laughed as she traveled off road and watched herself outpace the GPS on her phone.

Her distracted focus while playing on her phone meant that she wasn’t watching where she was going. The only thing that caught Tara’s attention were the shards of rock that pinged against her arms and legs and the sudden appearance of a large crack on her phone. Where had that come from?

The gaping hole in her right sneaker and its torn threads told the story. She’d kicked what was probably an enormous rock into deadly projectiles without even noticing!

Tara stopped to examine herself. Surely there had to be some lasting damage. If not broken toes and bruised foot, then perhaps some cuts on her skin. Perhaps she was seriously wounded and only the adrenaline was preventing her from feeling any pain.

But as Tara’s eyes focused, glowing blue as she scanned herself with her apparent x-ray vision for any broken bones, she found no hints of injury at all! She wiggled her toes to check—they functioned on demand. Even her black nail polish (since when had that been there?) was completely shiny and showed no signs of defects. Her arms were similarly unmarked. The only proof that something potentially bad had happened was the giant, spider web-like crack on her thousand dollar touch phone.

Looking behind her was what cemented her incredible feats as reality. She’d blazed a new trail among the wooded publicly owned land! Small, evenly spaced craters dotted the earth presumably where her powerful footfalls had landed, and in its wake, shattered rock, broken tree branches, and other rigid plants were all now tilted toward her. Almost as if bowing in subservience to her power.

“Wow...” she closed her fist and squeezed. Just how strong was she?

Blurring to a nearby tree, she extended her claw-like tougher-than-iron fingers and easily embedded them in the ancient trunk as if it were foam! A quick grip and tug, and she’d torn a huge piece out of it!

Tara examined her fingers. Still no sign of pain or harm. She closed her fist all the way, turning wood to sawdust with an easy squeeze of her petite fist.

Looking at her mostly bare toes, Tara smiled wickedly. Drawing her leg back, she swiveled at the hip, tensed her core and flexed her beautiful muscles, and swung with all her might!

The entire, thick tree trunk buckled under the pressure immediately.

It sounded like thunder as her foot partially carved through the wood before it was completely mutilated by Tara’s powerful, invulnerable leg. Her improvised projectile echoed like artillery shells detonating over and over as it smashed into the earth and bounced right back up to continue its deadly forward momentum.

Before it could do any real damage to populated areas, Tara blurred once more and overtook her shrinking log. Standing in its path, she held out one outstretched arm and consciously rooted herself in place. But her preparations were unnecessary. The tree trunk came to an immediate halt as it hit her open palm. It would have split in half and continued to tumble behind her had she not reacted with superspeed and karate chopped both halves to the earth, splitting those bits in half once more as well.

“Oh, this is even better than I could have imagined!” Tara whooped.

And now, in front of the Rockford office... she had planned to either seduce the security guards or the receptionist or whoever was there. Maybe a little bit of physical intimidation. But with her lottabit physical prowess, that definitely wouldn’t be necessary now.

Jabbing her fingers in between the door frames, Tara smiled as the hard material molded to the gentle touch of her hand. Pulling the doors apart, she’d bolted into the building and into the stairwell before the guards had even realized anything was amiss. She seemed to be spending a lot of time in stairwells today.

Standing at the bottom, she peered upwards with her piercing vision. Quickly finding Gerard Monet’s office at the top floor, Tara found an open space to launch herself upward with a single jump without shattering all of the concrete with her hard head. She caught the railing at the top and flipped herself over it gracefully and landed on her feet, this time without a ballerina’s dismount.

Okay, seriously, no more stairwells, Tara told herself.

Jabbing a finger through another lock, Tara could hear the alarms she’d set off on the first floor. She had to move quickly. Fortunately, that was well in her wheelhouse now.

Tara blurred right into Gerard’s locked office. Well, locked to anyone else. She crashed, breast first, right through the flimsy barrier. Zipping around the perimeter of the room, she made her way to the back and jumped into the ceiling, inserting a finger into the camera above and shattering it into useless glass and metal bits. A taste of things to come. Rifling through his filing cabinets, she found a few factory locations and committed them to memory.

And then to obscure her tracks and intentions, Tara began wantonly destroying things. Fuck Gerard Monet and his meteoric rise in the industry. She ran through the floor with an arm extended, smashing computer monitors and shattering desk chairs with her invulnerable body.

With the place well trashed, she peered to the concrete below to make sure no one was walking around the business district on a weekend afternoon.

Then, she leapt through the reinforced plexiglass and flew through the air, intending to land well outside the outskirts of town. Except she found that she was no longer confined to the laws of gravity. Wobbling in the air, Tara took a moment to master her incredible new ability. Her visits would appear to go even faster than she’d predicted.

She had some factories to visit. Maybe she could just use her new invulnerable body and powers of flight to carve through solid earth and appear right in the middle of the manufacturing plants to wreak her personal brand of havoc...