Accidental Villainy 56 (Patreon)

“Wow, are you serious?” the cashier gasped excitedly as I completed the purchase, yet dropped some extra cash. Serious cash. While she picked it up, I appreciated her deep cleavage even as her platinum blonde hair sprawled over her chest.

“Yes, just pass me the key to the changing room,” I said, requesting the emergency keys every shop had. 

“We are not—” she started, but when I glared at him, he was quick to accept. The way we walked with my hand on her ass already suggested a relationship that reduced the risk for her. Even if she got fired, the tip she received was more than enough to bridge the gap while she searched for a new job. 

Altogether, a decent deal. 

I nodded and walked away, ignoring her sudden coy gaze. She was beautiful, and if I didn’t have someone else with me, particularly someone who could easily demolish the store if annoyed, I would be very happy to take her on that suggestion. 

Well, even villains couldn’t win all. 

I wasn’t planning to do anything else in the shop — I had more fun activities planned — but there was no harm in being prepared. My heroine might decide that she didn’t like the clothes, or she might like them too much. Either way, we might make some noise, and I didn’t want to be bothered. 

Once that was done, I walked toward the dressing room, which was still closed. I smiled when I heard a subtle yet distinctive wet noise, and realized she decided to take her problem into her own hands. 

That would not do, I decided as I knocked on the door. “Come out,” I said. 

“O-one minute,” she gasped. 

“No,” I said even as I fiddled with the door. It was locked from the other side, but I was already prepared for the occasion. I thought about opening it … but there was another temptation. Her phone. 

I tried to fiddle with it, but it was locked. There were several notifications, all from one party, but the identity of the other party was not shown. Her phone was silenced, but being flooded with new messages. 

It looked like the other party was aware that our naughty heroine had gone awol; which wasn’t too shocking considering she had done the exact same thing the last night as well, just before giving me a lap dance. However, as I checked her phone, I was sure that her supporters were not a big organization. 

Or, they would have had a security expert who would have blocked her phone’s facial and fingerprint recognition. Both were significant drawbacks for an agent, even if that agent had superpowers. 

However, since I couldn’t open her phone, I knocked on the door again, disrupting her focus. “Get out, now,” I ordered, and when she ignored it, I opened the door. I pushed it slowly when I noticed a blue glow, though my eyes widened. 

I wasn’t expecting her to use her powers as a masturbation aid. 

Creative. 

Too bad I didn’t have the luxury of teasing her about it. Instead, I opened the door slowly until the glow dispersed so I didn’t see anything incriminating then, pushed it open completely. “H-hey—” she started, ready to complain. 

It was a good time for the first kiss of the day. I leaned in for a quick kiss, one that was merciless and aggressive as I wrapped her beautiful red hair around my fist, yet short-lived, leaving her panting for more once I pulled back. 

While she tried to control herself, I took note of her outfit. She had been already dressed when I opened the door, which might have been a pity … if most of her outfit couldn’t also function as napkins. 

She had a tight tube top a size too small, which looked amazing when combined with her lack of a bra, particularly since it was designed to be a perfect fit in the first place. However, that was nothing compared to her plied skirt, which might be easily mistaken for a headband if she hadn’t been wearing it. It was tiny enough that even the slightest breeze would cause a scandal. 

Especially since she wasn’t wearing her panties. They were hanging on a hook, no doubt removed to make her earlier self-care easier. Interestingly, she had been wearing the rest of her outfit, showing that she enjoyed its looks. 

The rest of her outfit was even more scandalous, a pair of boots that ended a few inches below her knees, and thigh-high fishnet stockings. Altogether, she looked like the perfect biker girl, ready to serve the whole gang with gusto. 

“Let’s go,” I said as I once again hugged her on her waist, my hand on her skirt as I dragged her out, holding her small bag and her phone in my other hand. Since I was interested in its contents, it looked like a good idea to get her used to the idea of me carrying it. 

“Wait, my panties —” she gasped, which ended with a moan as I slipped my fingers under her skirt, testing her wetness. What I did was unfair. Not only she had been tense due to the long ride, but also I had interrupted her attempts to solve it herself. 

Even worse, I abused my power as I caressed her wetness for a few seconds, pushing her right on the edge, but not letting her go over. “You’re right, they are not there,” I said teasingly. “Unfortunately, we’re already late. You should have been more careful.” 

That comment earned a gasp from her, but I could see her excitement growing even more as her bad boy refused her the chance to put on panties. 

I dragged her out, picking up my new helmet on the way. Once outside, she glanced around in shock, as if only now she realized how revealingly she dressed. I even noticed her using mini forcefields to keep her skirt on, too small to give out a glow, but still noticeable due to their shape. 

I couldn’t help but feel amused at that. She was showing incredible flexibility using her power, which meant she never had to be the Lady of Destruction … well, not necessarily, I corrected myself. Maybe only after her power started to weaken did she develop some control, or that was a benefit of the weakening. 

Either way, it was not a topic I wanted to delve deeper into at this particular moment. Instead, I wanted to deal with her sudden panicky reaction. I leaned forward and earlobe before whispering. “What’s wrong, Amelia?” I asked, deliberately using her fake name to remind her she was undercover and, therefore didn’t need to worry about pesky things like her reputation. Followed by an attack on her courage. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle it.” 

The combination worked wonders. The hesitancy in her eyes disappeared, replaced with anger. “I’ll show you whether or not I can handle it,” she whispered as she grabbed my hair and pulled me for a kiss, pulling hard. She jumped up, her legs tightening around me, her naked pussy right on top of my bulge. 

Not exactly what I had been planning, but the aggression of her lips as they danced, or the way she pulled my hair suggested that she had already reached her limit. It looked like that last dig about her weakness was all she needed to break things. 

I was glad for my foresight in bribing the cashier, who had been watching us from the window rather than trying to stop us from giving a show in her parking lot.

My tongue invaded her mouth, enjoying the spectacular kiss even as I walked toward the bike with her. However, rather than asking her to stop, I put her on the bike, helping her to let her relax, which gave me a better range as I dry-humped her. 

She just parted her legs, giving me an excellent view of her beauty as she lost focus — and intent — to keep her skirt under control with her power. I leaned forward, kissing her neck, the pleasure maddening her. 

I turned on the ignition, which added a new dimension to her pleasure. “Too bad you’re not enough man to take me right here,” she gasped. 

It was a weak insult, its function obvious. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury of ignoring that temptation, my bad-boy persona didn’t allow that. It looked like I had finally pushed her too much. 

Admittedly, I wasn’t worried about delivering what she was asking. The parking lot was empty and reasonably concealed, and while we had an audience, a sexy girl watching us with obvious pleasure was not exactly a dealbreaker. 

No, the problem lay in the fact that I had been planning to use her post-coital haze her to poke around her phone, discovering her secrets while she napped. That was out, as there was no way she would do so in an open space, or when we traveled back. A bike was not exactly a comfortable bed. 

However, refusing her was not an option. Then, just as I was about to throw my helmet and her bag down, I got another idea. 

What if I didn’t explore her phone after, but during…