Duellist 17 (WIP) (Patreon)

Apologies for the delay. Haven't quite finished up to the point where I want to stop, but here's 15K words while I finish off the other half of the chapter.

Taylor doesn't scream when I break her arm. It's creepy. Creepier than the bugs. Creepier than the costume. I couldn't even blame it on the nature of the simulation. Pretty much everyone screamed when I hurt them badly enough, even when the simulation hadn't bothered to include their actual personalities or go all-out with the REAL modifier.

Taylor just limply accepted that her left arm was broken, and resumed trying to kill me with her right. And the bugs. Still had those, obviously.

Still, the nice thing about crippling someone is that it makes it a lot easier to cripple them again. I was already bigger and stronger, and with one less arm to fend off myself, my clone and my continuous usage of my echoes - it wasn't much more than a second or two before I lock down her other arm and twist it - not stopping until multiple pops and a sickening crap leave it hanging loosely at her side.

Now then. Helmet. I'd learned my lesson the last two times. Her helmet was a serious piece of work, not in protecting from damage entirely - but preventing a lethal blow at least. I could give her a one-sided beatdown for all of the next fourty-or-so seconds it takes for her very-determined bugs to peel away the rest of my defensive layers and start killing me, but that wasn't enough. The neckpiece was too solid to properly break, nor did the writhing mass of bugs leave me much room to reposition - the physical weight of them alone was significant, even without the ceaseless attempts to bind me or drag me away with ropes and strings. It was the most I could do to simply maintain my position on top of her.

Luckily, Taylor had shown me how this part of her original costume worked before she went for a redesign. This version might have changed a bit, but the fundamentals were still the same. I knew how to get this thing off. It had taken another try or two to get in this position, mostly off the back of failing to handle the pistol well - either allowing her to get a shot in discretely while my vision was obscured, or letting her bugs spirit it away and fire it on their own while I was moments away from victory.

I'd taken some time to work out the limits of my textile-manipulation powerset from Parian. They were... significant. I didn't get the dolls, or the forcefields or the flying carpets. I had a size limit. Not sheets, or even a small kitchen cloth - threads. Literal threads. Not the end of the world, given that I had Clockblocker's power and a good idea about what a freely-manipulable razor-thin thread could do to flesh when Clockblocked and sufficient pressure was applied. And, unlike many of my other powers - it didn't start flubbing to nothing when I used it near someone's skin. Not strong enough to strangle someone in their own clothes just yet, unless they had a very, very convenient loose thread in the perfect place - but enough to undo the neatly-stitched seams running along almost every item of clothing imaginable.

Taylor's spidersilk was no great exception. Immaculately woven, but it was multiple pieces and features kept together at the end of the day. One touch and a flex of will drags a long thread away from the back of her helmet, another unravels a hidden knot and loosens itself - the goggle-like lenses at the front immediately loosening by the tiniest margin in response. Find the clasp, pull. Another seam, this was supposed to be released after the chest armour was off - that was why this was so annoying in the first place. But like this, the well-crafted costume was practically falling apart in my hands.

Just like mine was, coincidentally enough. Taylor's bugs were a lot stronger and more determined than in previous challenges. Picked some better critters, maybe. I never thought I would long for the days of being eaten by cockroaches, because while they were gross - they were also pretty slow at working through my layers. These new creepy-crawlies? No such luck.

Still not fast enough though. I'd comically overdone my armour in my preparation before charging in and attempted to seal every crack I could. So many redundant layers, enough that the initial melee struggle had started to become somewhat touch-and-go as I became more encumbered - a sixty-fourty fight instead of a ninety-ten. So long as I didn't spill the beans about Shadow Stalker's power early and get myself sprayed for my trouble, at least.

I yank upwards and away on the last of the padded helmet, ripping away the remaining threads and clasps holding it to the rest of the costume. "Stop that!" I hiss to myself as she tries to bite me the instant I finally rip the rest of the mask away, my vision almost completely obscured by bugs before my ash-clone blurs past my face with a powered kick downwards. I'm not sure she entirely realises that we aren't actually two people. By keeping her entire focus on me, she never lands a hit on my ash-clone to dispel it - and my ash-clone never hits her hard enough to dispel himself, primarily focusing on glancing, disorienting blows and keeping the biggest concentrations of string-holding bugs away from me. "I am trying-" Taylor's hate-filled face looks up at me. I punch it. A small part of me feels bad about it, but I can't help the slight feeling of catharsis after her recent outburst. Bad Greg. Domestic violence is bad. Unless it's for the sake of powers and future harem-harmony. "-to help you!"

She takes three punches without even flinching, the pressure of the bugs against me only getting more advanced as I feel the first ones finally chew through my last layers of protection and brush against skin.

Fuck this. I don't enunciate the word. No point having an orifice open with the bugs swarming so insistently for an opening, I could feel the first bug on my skin already. Without the helmet, the neckpiece was barely latched on. I wrench her head up and to the side, faltering on the first attempt as strings tighten against me and attempt to pull me away - but redirecting the ash clone to run interference gives me more than enough leverage to repeat the attempt. The ensuing crack doesn't signal the end of the challenge despite Taylor going instantly limp - so I just roll her over and wrench harder past the token resistance I can feel. The bites in my neck and torso come too late, and the challenge ends.

SUCCESS

Reward: Administrator (2)

Five down. Three to go. If the trend holds, one more power upgrade and two more upgrades to Taylor herself or her opinion towards me. Or, maybe there was a different capstone for Capes, who knows? The most obvious thing was that I needed one more win to boost Taylor's opinion of me again to facilitate us fixing our relationship. Our out-of-costume relationship, that is. In-costume, where Taylor didn't have any pre-conceived notions about me and my apparent 'duties' to her, we were getting along excellently. The contrast was something else, and something that I was painfully aware could go badly at some point in the future.

I mean, Taylor was practically eye-fucking me every time she thought I was looking the other way - and she couldn't hide how her mind instantly went into the gutter the moment the two of us found ourselves alone in a dark corner. Nothing had come of it yet, but the undercurrent of tension everytime I had to touch somewhere on her body to heal a bruise was noticeable sometimes. Hell, it caught me off guard - seeing it from Taylor of all people. She acted differently outside of school.

I could make something of it, obviously. She was only one step away from Emma's current position, and Emma had convincingly and thoroughly shown that I didn't need to max someone out to get them on their knees or spreading their legs for me. Which... well. In hindsight it was obvious. I'd gotten a bit too focused on the gamer-esque side of the system and combining it with my usual prospects with girls, that I hadn't properly internalised the fact that people hooked up and got laid sometimes without ever clearing a single challenge on their prospective partner. I shouldn't have been surprised at Emma's enthusiasm, and I shouldn't write Taylor off as an impossibility just because I hadn't reached the final levels yet. Particualrly because the difference between Emma and everyone else I had maxed out was simply the amount that I had talked with her, a trait shared by my interactions with Taylor. I was moderately sure that my... affections, if it came to it, wouldn't be unwelcome if they came at the right moment.

In the guise of Void Cowboy, at least - even if her feelings deep-down were unchanged when I was Greg, I already knew that she would sabotage herself to any extent if it let her be stubborn and spiteful towards someone she thinks 'wronged' her.

It was a shame I hadn't pushed the issue earlier, the timing made things awkward now. Letting my hands roam a bit at the right time, or just taking the opportunity to slip a hand southward while healing whatever bruise she collected next, she'd seemed somewhat open to it before - but I hadn't been one-hundred percent sure back then, and getting slapped down after essentially mastering her to get this far would have been way too embarrassing to risk.

After Emma, I was a bit more confident in myself about how far I could go... but now there were consequences in the way. Sure, things could go well and I could have Taylor choking on my dick at the start and end of every patrol - but eventually, my identity would get out. If I was to make the first move, even if she reciprocated at the time - she would definitely assume the worst of me once I either revealed the truth or slipped up. Refraining until I had patched things up... it was the right thing to do. The good thing to do. It wasn't like I was desperate for female companionship right now. All I had to do was not make any advances, and Taylor would be too shy to do anything on her own.

That was the plan.

"-oid?" Her slightly-concerned voice reaches through my thoughts. "Are you okay?"

I look across at Taylor. The lean figure of the budding superheroine tilts her head at me. A recognisable, distinctly feminine figure. Armour discarded off to the side and hands nervously clasping each other as she shifts under my gaze.

It's hard to know where to look. On one hand, leaving herself in just the spider-silk undersuit still left a lot of skin exposed to appreciate. On the other, the removal of the bulky parts of the costume revealed exactly how form-fitting and tight the undersuit really was. Tight enough to appreciate that she was definitely, no-doubt-at-all not wearing anything underneath it.

Dammit. I really want to fuck her already. I mean, I've wanted to do that for ages - even before I got my power. But with my power enabling me to do exactly that to basically anyone eventually, it was kind of hard to appreciate my female friends as just... well. Friends. Not least because of the subtle glow-ups that they received over time as I started knocking over their challenges, nor their growing confidence in highlighting their sexuality to me. That's not to say that I'm just looking at them like a piece of meat or something, I'm appreciating the fact that it's specifically Taylor or Emma just fine, any generic model off of the street wouldn't hit in quite the same way. I should know, I tested it.

It's just... it's pretty easy to think of pure, wholesome thoughts of friendship when your friend is making a dour face at the back of a crowded classroom and hiding in a hoodie three-sizes too big for them. It's a lot harder when they pull you into a dimly-lit room around the back of an old cinema, strip down to their Cape-themed lingerie and ask for your professional opinion on the quality of the lacework.

That wasn't a perfect description of what had happened here, but it was pretty damn close to the point where the context started to not matter. This costume wasn't one that was designed to be seen. The one she showed the public was covered in armoured plating and padding in all the important areas. This was what she wore underneath that, ostensibly to prevent rubbing or chafing as she carted it around. A last-ditch defence in the case of the areas uncovered by the upper-layers armour, but to my eyes - little more than a particularly lewd bodysuit split into two parts for the sake of convenience.

It wasn't that I'd pushed for this, manipulated the circumstances to get to this point or anything like that. She'd practically jumped me the moment I arrived, an almost eerie aura of focus in her eyes that was humanised only by the occasional nervous shuffle and flush in her cheeks. She had to know what she was doing, right? I might not be the brightest when it comes to girls, but I wasn't completely blind - I could tell that she was making an attempt to seduce me, probably as much to spite what the real-me had said a few short hours ago as any genuine feelings that had been stirred up by having her 'other' likely love interest stolen away by Emma. But where did that leave me? Was it an open invitation to ogle her? Or just some light flirting like we had done previously, neither side quite ready to push for more? Go further? Did I want to do that?

Ok, I wanted to do that. Better question: Should I do that?

I'd gotten the impression on our last patrols that she wasn't opposed to me getting a little handsy when emotions were running high, but I hadn't gained any extra relationship rewards since the last time we were like that. Was this aggressiveness just a temporary boost of confidence after a... sub-optimal day at school? Would she regret things later if I acted on what she was offering now? My entire plan for getting Taylor back to my side with minimal fuss required at least one of my identities to be deep in her good books before the game was up. She had already demonstrated an ability to make up the silliest of imagined excuses to fly into a rage at me, who was to say that she couldn't do so again if she felt that I had taken advantage of her 'emotionally-vulnerable' state? I could see that happening.

...I really did want to fuck her though. Apparently, hormones don't care about the potential for later consequences. Who would have guessed.

Perhaps I should look at this in a different way. The question was going to be rendered completely moot if I just succeeded in my next challenge. With three relationship upgrades, she'd let me do almost anything to her as Void Cowboy if she was even remotely similar to Emma. Greg might still have to do some fast talking to get to the same point, but at least I'd be out of this conundrum of not being able to read her mind and work out if I can just rip that costume off her or not.

Metaphorically. It wouldn't actually rip that easily. I'd tested it. Tough stuff.

I cough. "It looks good on you." I finally mutter, "I see you changed up the design a bit. Had some new ideas?" I cast my eyes over her challenge sheet.

Taylor Hebert

Weaver 6/8

(ALRT) (DOOM) (WRLD)

A DOOM modifier? Unusual. That was one of the rarer ones so far. A conditional defeat to work around. Still. Not a terrible combination. WRLD was pretty close to a neutral modifier, more relevant to how realistic and accurate the simulation of the distant, wider world around us was than anything else. Useful for information-gathering, not-so-useful in a direct confrontation. But that went both ways. And I felt that the ALRT modifier didn't even need saying. She seemed to be able to sense through her bugs in some fashion, so detecting me quickly was inevitable.

As I continue to muse, Taylor glances down at herself. Her expression is unreadable, but her voice sounds upbeat enough. "I've strengthened it in places, though there's still some more work to do. I originally wanted to build more padding into the side, but the main suit got too hot and didn't breathe well enough - so I've opened up these gaps at the side-" She highlights the creamy, exposed holes in her costume. "-that I'm going to cover with some alternative. Some kind of mesh, or just a thinner variant of my spidersilk. I'm not sure yet. That isn't really important though, I can modify the main piece later as issues come up. I was more interested in what you thought about how it looks. I can't exactly get an opinion from the public dressed like this, so I thought-"

"Challenge." I whisper. Better to have the momentary silence and disorientation occur while she was talking than when it was my turn to talk. She had already gone off on a bit of a tangent, and I was pretty confident that I wasn't going to miss out on anything important for the second or two that I would be zoned out in the real world.

The world shifts beneath me. For once, Grey and white blocks don't resolve back into colour, but instead convert directly into dull, featureless walls. Much like some futuristic science lab, stripped of all personality and life. The door in front of me automatically opens as I approach, revealing a wide, open corridor with dozens of other doors scattered in both directions.

Best get moving. I may not have any real indicator of what the DOOM modifier was demanding of me, but getting away from the exact position I started in was a staple of handling the ALRT modifier. She might know where I started, but that didn't mean that I couldn't get away from that position before she found me - and if there was one positive to this area, it was that it seemed pretty clean. No obvious bugs around, any swarm from Taylor would need to be pulled in here from outside, or at least some other room or floor that was less well-maintained.

I don't bother checking the doors, just racing along the corridor to get as much distance as possible between me and my starting point. Some of the doors from one corridor into the next require holding down a button to open, which I can't help but feel is just to ruin my speed-state for traversing the area. I can just barely push the button down for an instant, but my low-mass state can't stop the button from pushing itself back up long enough to open the door. I have to run normally, at normal speeds. And that's how I end up crashing into a seven-foot lion man from hell as I round one corner into the next.

"Looking to fight?" The speech momentarily catches me off-guard, I've stretched the distance between us on pure instinct - but I dismiss my ash-clone before it can even form once the first word comes out of his mouth.

"You can speak." I remark to myself slowly. "A case-53?"

"A failure, so they said." He corrects me. A soft baritone that leaves a hint of a threat in his words. "A prisoner, according to others. But recent events have given us a bit of a reprieve, the inmates are running the asylum now and we're looking forward to a polite chat with the guards once we get our hands on them. But I've never seen you around before, so where does that leave you?"

I don't need this. It's only a matter of time before these corridors are swarming with bugs, I need to find Taylor - get some small impression of where she starts, any weapons she has, potential weaknesses and get a strategy going for next time. This guy, whatever he wanted, was just a liability. Even if he could talk, it was evident that this guy had drawn the short-straw in the power lottery. His limbs are held together by strings of glowing acid, and as I watch, one of those strings congeals and falls to the floor, melting and merging with the bubbling pile of acid-slash-lava at his legs. By the grimacing look of pain on his face, that wasn't intentional and probably pretty painful as well. As I watch, a new arm slowly starts to protrude from his chest - barely more than a large bump now, but too close to the old location of the limb to be a coincidence.

His body was falling apart, then regenerating. Useless in a fight, unless his powers had a unique trick to them. If it was a human-looking Cape I would be suspicious about the possibility of a trick - but Case 53's were well known for their shitty powers and dysfunctional bodies. For every winner like Weld or Newter, there were a half-dozen screaming monstrosities that struggled to fulfil basic tasks or blend in with human society. Insane and dangerous, or just too disruptive to allow out in the streets. The kind of people that impaled their lungs on their ribs when they looked left too fast. Even if this guy seemed well-spoken, the half-molten sludge trail that he had left behind him prior to meeting me said everything about why he was kept here and not out in public.

Which made this, what? Some kind of asylum? A prison? Had the simulation of Taylor ended up here at some point? Or was she just passing through? Perhaps it was just a random scenario that my power cooked up, just like it did for so many others. Whatever the case, I wasn't going to get much use out of this guy. Even if I could chat with him, he wasn't likely to be powerful enough to make the slightest difference against a prepared Taylor - and my power wasn't exactly known for its willingness to allow me to gain allies mid-challenge.

Which meant he was just here as a potential obstacle and time-waster. "Not interested in a long talk." I step past him.

His remaining arm stops me. A light, orange fluid reminiscent of lava seeps from his claws. As it touches the floor, the ground beneath me hisses before the liquid trails back to the orange pools that seemed to substitute for his feet. "I wasn't asking if you were. Seeing new faces at a time like this, it's hard for us to know who to trust. Can't blame us for getting nervous, can you?"

"Piss off-" I wrench his arm to the side, initially intending to use it to pull him and his face closer to me to attack - but instead, the arm unceremoniously separates at the shoulder and flails limply in my grip, acid racing across my clothes down the left side of my body. I back off briefly, summoning my ash-clone to stall any flailing he might attempt as I brush off all the acid I can from my exposed skin and ripping away my tattered shirt in the process. Superficial burns, fingers still functional. Not an issue.

I make ready to fight, forcefield coming up to block any further attacks - only to falter as I realise that my ash-clone has knocked the lion-man's head cleanly off of his body.

I know this isn't his challenge, but it feels like a disappointment. Poor guy. I step over to the fallen head as it continues to make angry, breathless snarls at me. I pause. Still alive. Regeneration good enough to keep going, judging by the slow lengthening of the neck. I could probably smash it to pieces and see if it stopped with the destruction of the brain, but knowing how screwed up this guy's power interactions already were...

I drop the head into the bubbling pool of acid at the original body's feet. It seems to resist for a moment, but after just a small amount of downwards pressure - he's submerged into the acidic effects of his own power and dissolving just like his arm did. The man's body collapses in on itself as the skull dissolves. Dead.

"Nice." An easy win, although in future runs I would have to be a bit more careful about taking acid burns so early into the run. My fingers were fucked up for anything complicated right now, a pulsing numbness that seemed to scream nerve damage at me. But if he went down that easily, I could repeat it with my ash-clone alone without risking myself-

The floor turns red. The walls turn red. The faint chattering of a gibbering skull echoes down the hall.

FAILURE

I blink.

What?

Hint: The DOOM modifier adds a failure-condition to the challenge-

I skim the hint and brush it away. The DOOM modifier was to blame. That's all I needed to know. It could be something unrelated to what I did, it wasn't impossible that the requirement was something arbitrary that I couldn't see yet - like preventing Taylor from reaching a certain floor or room, but that was unlikely. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that it only happened immediately after I killed the apparent escaped-convict or whatever he was.

Which meant... what? A no-kill policy? Taylor is the only one allowed to die? That made him, and anyone else in the building, not just a potential obstacle and time-waster, but an actual liability. If Taylor targeted any of them, or any of them got taken out via collateral damage - I would fail regardless of how well I was personally handling Taylor. It was a condition I somewhat expected sometimes in the more role-playing-like EVNT challenges, but wasn't this a bit much? It would be utterly impossible if she were to aggro against the bystanders immediately, if there were more people like that guy just roaming the halls - it would only take one that was vulnerable to bug bites, or perhaps a pistol again, and it would be over.

I shake my head. Nothing I can do about it. Next time, I'll just map the area out better. I'll be able to see if Taylor ends the challenge herself given the opportunity, or if she just single-mindedly hunts me down as I explore and look for advantages. Like what should have happened this round, if the challenge hadn't screwed me.

It wasn't like I had even needed to kill him. I had plenty of movement-related abilities to escape and outrun him, it was just... he looked weak and it seemed easier to just kill him. My challenges didn't typically reward me for mercy and goodwill to strangers. You didn't get surprises from dead people. Too many challenges like Madison's, where the target has allies that will happily shoot you in the back even if they initially looked unrelated. There's no advantage to leaving them behind and alive, and a possible threat if you do. Nobody is really hurt by taking them out... but I couldn't deny that it was a little uncomfortable getting punished for being too quick to pull the trigger. It felt a bit too much like a reminder that killing people in general was wrong, which I obviously already knew - but... whatever. It felt weird.

And, more importantly, I had lost. No quick wins via giant-beetle-suicide this time. No easy fix for Taylor's little outburst. Frustrating, but not unexpected.

I glance at Taylor's challenge sheet. Three hours of cooldown time. Not terrible, but not even close to good either.

"-bit embarrassing, of course. But if it's you, I don't mind at all." Taylor continues, unaware of the gap that I had experienced in the conversation. "That's why I wanted us to meet up a bit earlier than usual. This other girl-" There's an edge in Taylor's voice. "-might be a friend of yours, but she isn't my partner. I can't trust her with something this intimate." She can't trust her at all, is the unspoken amendment there - I would imagine.

"I think the word 'friend' is pushing it a bit. For now at least." I deflect her obvious concerns about the people I'm hanging around with. "We bumped into each other, beat each other up a little and realised that we see eye-to-eye on a lot of things when it comes to being effective heroes in the city. She was willing to help us both out, and I'd feel a lot more comfortable knowing that you can hold your own in a fight if you ever got cornered where your bugs can't help you."

"I just don't know if it's the best use of our time." She tries to argue. "I'm getting better and better at my power the more I use them on our patrols. And the way your power works, it gives me insights into my power that I didn't even know were possible. You know how you can control one of my bugs to use it as a conduit for one of your other powers?" I nod. "I worked out how to do that just a moment ago. I've had my bugs making material for a backup costume at home right now, my power makes me great at multi-tasking but the closest I'd been able to manage to copy your power was to leave one bug echoing my last orders. I was aware of all the bugs it was hanging around, even though its outside of my range - but just now?"

I pause in my instinctual head-shaking at the attempted deflection. Not because I had changed my mind, this needed to happen as much for my benefit as hers - but that wording.

"Just now?" I echo. As in, right now? Now as in a few days ago, or now as in, during this conversation where I happened to get a powerup from one of your challenges?"

"While I was in this room." She confirms. "I mean, I've been paying attention to you - my power just lets me multitask so, um, don't worry about me ignoring you to play with bugs - it's nothing like that! But, yeah. It all just clicked together! I managed to change its orders all the way from over here! I mean, I completely overdid it and my admin-bug ended up frying its brain by doing too much at once and I'll need to go back to assign another one before my farm gets back to work again - but it worked!" Taylor enthuses, briefly distracted from her original tangent before returning to where she left off. She clears her throat with an embarrassed cough. "Ahem. Anyway. Working on progress like that means so much more than hanging around some sketchy vigilante-turned-Ward and hoping I can learn to throw a punch. It could mean a permanent second swarm under my command, reinforcements in a pinch if my main one ever got depleted enough. You could carry my admin-bug with you and I'd never lose you, even if you needed to speed out of my range when pursuing someone. I could use it to ensure that I was never in position to be in a fist-fight in the first place."

Could it- could it be a two-way street? Did my challenges give their powers an upgrade too? No, or at least, not entirely. Not to the same extent as I leeched off of other peoples powers - the word would already have gotten out from the other Capes I'd stolen from if it was that obvious and distinct. But a new way to express the power that they already have, not as drastic as a second-trigger but something that they could plausibly describe as an effect of just getting better or never having tried it before and stumbled across the ability... maybe I was getting ahead of myself. This might just be part of Taylor's original power coming to the fore, my version of her power did jump straight to that aspect - after all.

Put it aside for now. "Can I be honest with you?" I probe Taylor.

"Always." The immediate response, full of trust, almost makes me feel a little guilty for the web of lies I was surrounding her in.

"I think that's an excuse to keep away from this girl, and you know it." I state bluntly. "I don't blame you for that, I'd be kind of put out if you told me that you'd been hanging around with Gallant and planned on inviting him to our next meeting to beat me up in his latest power armour. I don't blame you for taking it in that kind of way-"

"I didn't think of it like that!" She protests loudly. "I just- well. It's stupid. Nevermind. You'll laugh if I tell you."

"I doubt that." I lie easily. "Just spit it out. We're partners, after all. I'm not going to start laughing at you if you're genuinely uncomfortable with something. I admit, I didn't really run it past you first - but the opportunity was unexpected and I really thought it would be a good idea. It would make you safer as well, and as your partner, I worry about your safety a lot."

"You do?" She perks up slightly. "I mean, not that I want you to worry about me - but it's- it's nice to know that you care." She waves her hands in the air. "I mean, obviously you care - because we're partners and everything, but-" She cuts herself off, slightly shrinking into herself. "-it's nice to hear it." The voice comes out a little quieter than usual.

"Just because we're partners?" I echo back at her. "Don't be like that. Even if we were to suddenly stop patrolling together, I'd still want you to be doing as well as possible. We're friends - and friends help each other out." Maybe it was wrong of me to deliberately choose this kind of phrasing, designed to affirm our relationship and bond in preparation for the inevitable breakdown once Greg and Void become one and the same to her - purely so that it would be harder to stay mad at me when I've been so 'open' with her as Void Cowboy, but I wasn't exactly lying so was it really that bad? This was for her benefit too, if she didn't have me she'd probably go off the deep-end. "You wanted to be a heroine, I want to help you succeed at that. Even if you were to leave me and go join the Wards-"

"I'm not leaving you. Don't even joke about that." Taylor takes the off-handed comment oddly seriously. "I want to stay with you. Us. This team is everything I want - the Wards can't offer any of that. I don't want any of this to change at all." She bites her lip. "I guess, that's what I was going to say. About the other girl."

"Hm?" I hum my request for elaboration at her.

She flushes. "Bringing someone else into our team, even if it's just a temporary thing. I guess I just don't want her muscling in on our partnership. I know it's irrational, I just... like what we have."

I shrug. "I like what we have too, but I wouldn't worry about losing any of this." I give a vague gesture at the pair of us. "Shadow Stalker is a dedicated member of the Wards, she won't be quitting the team to join us permanently any time soon. I don't really see our dynamic changing. It's hard for her to even be seen around us without the PRT breathing down her neck. You don't need to think her of as a teammate if you don't want to, just a resource for you to use. I don't expect her to start trying to seduce me away to the Wards either, she has a pretty low opinion of them and would probably ditch them in a heartbeat if she could."

"It's not the Wards that I'm worried about." Taylor mutters darkly.

I drum my fingers against my own leg. "Alright. I don't really know what's going on with you today-" I lie easily. "-but trying to dance around your issue isn't getting us anywhere. Yesterday, I'd have happily said that I thought you would trust me with the truth if something was bothering you - but it kind of stings that you seem to be avoiding me now. You know that you can trust me, right?"

"I do trust you!" She huffs. "It's just not that easy to spell it out." She circles behind me as I glance to the street below. A pair of arms slink over my shoulders as she presses herself into my back. "But I know you're right. Keeping everything to myself and hoping it works out in my favour has never worked out. Sitting around and waiting, just waiting for someone a little more decisive to take the things I want away... I think I've had enough of that. Enough of losing, just because I'm afraid of the consequences of being shot down. I like you."

I blink. First of all, that fact was a complete given to me. It was obvious. Even if her challenges seemed to be spiking in difficulty and she had way too many of them, I was still over halfway through them. Managing to somehow not like me would be a pretty incredible feat. My Greg-persona didn't count, that was a temporary issue - we were getting along fine before some emotional landmine got triggered - and we'd be getting along fine again the moment I beat this next challenge. Or if she apologised. Either would work. Obvious or not, the surprising part was that she actually blurted it out.

I was more concerned about what she was saying. Had I accidentally prompted a confession? I'd actually been aiming to root out any remaining misgivings about Shadow Stalker hanging around so that they didn't get too catty at each other and ruin my plans of doubling the heroines I could challenge on my patrols. A bit of gaslighting, a bit of guilt-tripping - all in the name of future harmony. I wouldn't put it past Taylor to just have an instinctive bad reaction to Sophia being... Sophia. I hadn't expected her to outright admit that she was just jealous, nor go into the real reason behind that.

Because now I'd stumbled onto a roadblock. I hadn't counted on getting confessed to. Because that challenged my earlier commitment to not throw myself at Taylor. It was the right thing to do, sure - but it was a different story when she was throwing herself at me, right? I mean, I was basically her only friend in the world at this point - it would be way crueller for me to shoot her confession down in flames. She'd probably get embarrassed, break off all contact and go down the path of villainy that my power seemed to be anticipating for her. Sure, there were still potential issues down the line - but the moral issues that I'd been struggling with were a lot less concerning when she was the one making the moves. After all, I hadn't done anything to spur this on - so she couldn't easily blame me for it later.

Maybe - maybe - I could have been a bit more careful and pointed with my words - but I hadn't really done anything wrong. A pointed question about why she didn't trust me was so much less dangerous than the flirting we regularly did on our patrols - how could I have known that she'd show more nerve now than she did over the entire last year of school? Not my fault. Unavoidable, if you ignored the bit where I started mastering her down this path - but if we exclude that, I think I'm pretty blameless here for any consequences that come out of this. It was her decision to say something, not mine.

Taylor continues as I silently process her words. "Not like a friend. More than that. Is that crazy? I didn't really think about it before, my time at school hasn't been the best - having a friend that I'm this close to, that I can trust and rely on this much... I wasn't sure what I was feeling. But now I know, what I feel about you has nothing to do with friendship. I'm not good at this sort of thing, but I really do like you. I don't want you to think I'm just saying this to make up for a bad day of school or that I'm looking for a... one-time fling before going back to normal." Her voice warbles slightly. Is she crying? "I like you. I really, really like you. I'm sure it's weird to you-"

"It's not at all weird." I interrupt. "We're both attractive, fit people with the same goals and hobbies. We've got great chemistry and an awesome partnership together as Capes. We're about the same age, share the same morals-" As far as she knows. "-and spend our evenings in a high-stress hobby that brings us closer together than any normal friendship could. It would almost be a bit weird if we didn't show any interest in each other."

Taylor unconsciously shifts her body weight against my back. Her assets might not be the most impressive, but boobs were boobs. I was appreciative even if she would probably say that there was nothing to appreciate. "S-so does that mean that you...?" She ends on a quiet, hopeful note.

It was easy to imagine myself saying yes. I wasn't purely thinking that because it brings me one massive step closer to fucking Taylor - a long-term goal of mine from long before I ever got powers - even if it definitely helped grease the wheels of my thought process. In a bit of a twisted way, this helped Taylor in the long-term too - in much the same way that Emma straight-up admitting that she just wanted to be my personal cumslut had greatly improved my opinion on her and the likelihood that I might keep her around in the future, it was strictly beneficial for Taylor to advance her own relationship with me as much as possible. I was going to be very, very influential and hold her fate entirely in my hands in the future, so it would be selfish of me to deny her the chance to prove her own feelings to me.

And with all that logic trying to think of every possible reason why it was completely fine and awesome if I said yes- I surprise myself. "I have a girlfriend." There's a flash of regret as the words leave my mouth. It was nothing to do with any imagined loyalty, not to Emma and not to any of my other flings. It was simply cold logic reasserting itself over the horny part of my mind. Sure, there was potential for immediate gratification - but the possibility of establishing a relationship that resulted in her unmasking herself was a terrifying prospect for our future partnership. If she unmasked and I didn't reciprocate, her trust would be shattered regardless of any feelings here and now. If I did, I held no delusions about the fact that right now her anger at Greg probably dwarfed any crush on Void Cowboy.

Maybe I could have rolled with it. Worked out an excuse to keep our masks on. If I hadn't already had the fight with Taylor, I could have just allowed the unmasking to happen - it wasn't like she had anyone to tell, and I could be pretty sure that she was more loyal to me than anyone aside from maybe her close family thanks to my challenges. But the damage was done. I couldn't undo that, couldn't tell myself to rip the bandaid off a few days earlier. Couldn't tell myself how Emma had acted without being fully-cleared, and how Taylor should be more of the same. I was stuck with this version of Taylor, and there were just too many obstacles to making an intimate relationship work-

"So?" The simple, one-word question cuts off my thoughts. "Does that... really matter?" Taylor's face looks oddly intense. Where I'd been expecting to see a look of devastation, or heartbreak, I see a nonplussed and determined look that all but screams that she had completely expected that response. The slight stammer she had during her confession was gone, the brief sign of weakness and impending tears had vanished in the wind too. Of the two of us, somehow I was the one more off-balance and scrambling for answers in the conversation now.

"Wh-" I try to process her words. "What do you mean by that?"

"Is that really a problem?" Taylor leans forward, undersuit straining and clinging to her body with every movement she makes. If she even noticed the direction my gaze kept sliding, she doesn't comment on it save for a slight glimmer of a smile appearing on her face. "Does your girlfriend know that you're a Cape?"

"No." I concede.

"You can't trust her with that. And you don't have any reason to tell her anyway." Taylor nods to herself, a tint of satisfaction in her voice that I would never have recognised from my interactions with Bug alone. That was all Taylor, masked spite hiding as disinterested neutrality. "Mask on, and mask off, we're two different people. Two different lives. Worlds apart. I know that I can't be your full-time girlfriend. You're... you, and I'm just me. I knew you had to have someone in your real identity, I'm not crazy enough to think that I can start monopolising you in every part of your life. But, you know what I think? I think that even if some handsome guy at school finds himself beating off girls with a stick, I think that Void is unattached - and maybe even someone like me has a chance at changing that."

"You're asking me to cheat on someone with you." I respond neutrally.

Taylor seems to be acting coy. "I don't know if I would quite say that. Void isn't dating anyone, right? Nothing changes at school when Void decides to do something a little different. And I don't think you can be entirely honest in saying that you aren't at all interested in a fling in your cape identity. I've seen you flirting with the people we save sometimes, and I've caught you eyeing me up enough times to know that this isn't entirely uninteresting to you - girlfriend or not." She slides one hand along her side. "And I don't blame you or anything - guys are just like that, right? Even if they've got a great, long-lasting relationship with someone - they can't really stop themselves if the right opportunity comes up with another girl that's willing to put out a little bit more."

I'm pretty sure that last part was Taylor rationalising Greg's actions and applying that to all guys. Part of me feels compelled to step up for the team, tell her that not all guys were like that - that plenty of people were happily loyal regardless of temptation... but I couldn't really put myself in that list of people. I still didn't think that Taylor had any justification to complain about my actions in school, but every negative stereotype she was currently internalising about the infidelity of men was probably dead-on in my case. I certainly didn't feel any loyalty to... anyone. I was the future owner of a harem! It came with the territory, right?

And then there was the other reason that it might be a good idea to let those kinds of thoughts go unchallenged. Because if she was serious about this, and it seemed that she was, I might be able to get Taylor at least partly on-board with the harem thing right here and now. Not in the way I had hoped - where all of my girls love me more than they hate the idea of sharing and we all live happily ever after - but simply because she didn't believe that she had a chance with me at all if other girls were in the picture, and was happy to get any slice of the pie at all by luring me away from what she imagined was a happy, loyal relationship. I wasn't at all like that with Emma, but she didn't know that - although I could picture that she was imagining herself cucking an Emma-like person when she pictured the kind of girl likely to be on the same level as a superhero boyfriend at her school.

The idea behind it all was a bit fucked up, even if normal people did it all the time. But did I really have any room to criticise how Taylor attempted to get together with me when I'd mastered her to get this far? Probably not. Clinginess, a bit of desperation and a willingness to compromise could be expected once my power got involved. I lost any ground to judge people on a long time ago.

I'd better follow along with what she was saying. I fill in the silence with an admission. "It's true, us guys do tend to think with our dicks a lot of the time." I shake my head. "And I can't deny that I've thought about it before, I just never thought it would be fair to act on those thoughts. Not only because, obviously, I could never fully commit in the way that you would deserve - but also because of this mask."

That has her attention. "How so?"

I spread my hands to the side. "In other circumstances, there wouldn't be any issue with it. But we aren't just seeing each other as students or colleagues. I'm the hero Void Cowboy. You're the hero Bug, name pending approval. We're both hiding our real identities, and we've obviously got good reasons for that. How can I ask us to be in a relationship when I can't bring myself to reveal my face? It's a step that neither of us could take back, even if our partnership broke down or we had an argument." I shake my head. "We'd always know each other's identities, and there's no way either of us could ignore that when interacting with the other. What if you recognised me from school if I took my mask off? What if we had some longstanding feud out of costume, what if you didn't like the real me or somehow found that the real me didn't match up to the reality of the hero you respected?"

"It wouldn't be like that-" Taylor's half-hearted protest lacks conviction. This was cruel. I was cruel. Because for all that I was talking about me, I was actually talking about Taylor. She'd hear every word here and realise how it applied to her situation. I'm sure if I'd pushed it, or had just let things play out - she'd have done a tearful face-reveal with a statement about how much she trusted me by now. I couldn't afford that, because reciprocating would just end in as many tears as earlier today. Instead, I'll lay out every one of Taylor's likely insecurities and fears in front of her. It wasn't a matter of trust, but how much she feared my reaction to 'poor, pathetic Taylor' being the heroine Bug.

Whichever way she took this, any result was better than her forging ahead with what was probably her original plan. If she chickened out, fine. If she went ahead, satisfied with keeping it in-costume? Also fine. If we dropped the subject entirely until we were both ready? Acceptable. Anything other than her outing herself to me, and being hurt whether I revealed myself back or not.

I keep my tone even. "I don't mean it to say that you would be judgmental or anything, I know that you're a good person - but, well. It's just a big step to take. I'm sure you have your own reasons as well, though I won't pry." I didn't need to pry. I knew everything already. "Yet, at the same time - I feel like I'd be asking too much of you if I were to ask us to be something more, while leaving the masks on. That's why I never said anything. Why I kept my feelings as simple attraction and never anything more, because I couldn't promise you what you would deserve if push came to shove. It would just feel unfair to you."

"It's not unfair!" She protests again. "We're both- we're both in the same situation. You don't need to worry about something as stupid as not being able to see each other's face, when we've come this far without it. The person I like isn't someone I know from school, it's the person in front of me now. Just because I've never seen his full face, doesn't mean I can't recognise my own feelings. What does it even matter if you have a second persona? The one I like is the guy in front of me, and if you like the person in front of you - then isn't that all that's really important?"

I suppress a grin. Oh, she's totally onboard with keeping our masks on. But I shouldn't let my eagerness show. I'm supposed to be a good, upstanding and moral guy being led astray by a temptress, I need to make all the right noises in protest and have her blow right past them - something she seems more than willing to do.

I raise my voice in faux-concern. "You say that, but is that really something you are fine with? I could be absolutely anyone behind the mask. A violent thug with a body count. Some misogynistic asshole with an overinflated ego. A complete playboy with no intention of stopping his womanizing ways just because he's seeing someone in his alter-ego." Or all of the above. Self-awareness, ho! Self-reflection, except for the bit where I actually try to improve myself. I was fine being a pretty terrible human being if it led to where I thought it was leading. "You don't know anything about me beyond the mask, can you handle that in a real relationship? I already said that I'm seeing someone else right now, is that really something that you can look past?"

"Of course I can!" She protests, even as her arms tighten around me in an unconscious embrace. "We've worked together for months now, you think I haven't gotten to know you at all in that time? I know that you aren't a bad person. That other girl, she doesn't need to know about anything that happens when you're wearing the mask. The only people that would know are us and-" Taylor looks down, then to the side. "-I'm okay with it if you are?"

If Taylor's self-esteem issues were a person, I would kiss them right now. It was obvious in hindsight, me being the dashing, charismatic, awesome-name-having hero that I am - it was obvious that she would assume I was in a committed relationship with one of the hottest girls in the school under my real name. And, to be honest, that wasn't that far off after today. The fact that she'd made a move on me anyway, meant that she was under the impression that she was stealing me away from someone else - at least, the Cape side of me. And was completely fine with that.

Naughty Taylor. Don't you know that NTR is a trash fetish? I wouldn't exactly let that fact stop me either, but at least I acknowledge the hypocrisy.

But this all worked out nicely for me. With her reputation and general self-esteem, trying to go from friends-with-benefits with Void Cowboy to a public relationship with the imagined stud behind the mask must seem like an insurmountable task if there was a rival of any real social clout in the way. In her mind, she was probably being realistic. In crude terms, settling for being the side-bitch - setting her hooks in via the only facet of my life she believes that she has a chance over the competition. And, in fairness, having literal superpowers is a significant advantage over 99.9% of the population. If she wasn't gunning for me, specifically, it might have worked out great when it came to make a hard choice a year or two down the line. If I wasn't explicitly gunning for a harem of the hottest and most powerful chicks in the world, it might really have worked out well in the long term. But, she didn't have the right context to really understand what motivates me.

I would be lying if I said I was looking at this entirely with glee. Despite our falling out earlier, I genuinely liked Taylor. I didn't want to see her putting herself down like this. It was undeniably a toxic, unhealthy mindset that she'd put herself in - and I wasn't entirely sure how much of that was the emotions of the day still running high and how much of it was just... normal Taylor.

The question was if I was actually going to do anything about that uncomfortable feeling that I was the bad guy here. I mean, I could accept that I was kind of the bad guy with all of the mastering and all of that, but that didn't mean that I enjoyed taking advantage of others. Like in an RPG playing as an evil guy, it was one thing to take all of the murderous options - but it was still difficult to pick the mean dialogue options to people who didn't deserve it. A better man would have been dismayed at the lack of self-confidence on display. The casual inferiority that she had internalised towards other girls her age. The clear line that she'd drawn between her Cape-self and school-self, all but screaming to the world that even if Taylor was a nobody - at least Bug could have some value. That hypothetical, good-natured guy would have helped her. Solved her problems at school, got her into a healthy mental state and only then accepted a loving, healthy relationship before sailing off into the sunset. The idea of taking advantage of this situation would have been anathema to a better man.

But a better man would never have gotten this far. Besides, it would have to be one hell of a better man to do all of that. I think I was pretty average here, come to think of it. I don't think many guys would turn down an advance like this, including implicit permission to pursue other girls, in an identity that isn't even attached to their real name. The only reason most guys would back out was that it was too good to be true, but with the assurance that this was just the kind of scenario my power led to - I think most of the city would be willing to go along with Taylor's misunderstandings if it meant getting laid.

Even if I wasn't actively looking for ways to get my current and future girls to come around on the idea of a harem, this was perfect for anyone - at least in the short term. An outcome I'd have never imagined to even be possible without clearing her challenges completely. Not that I could ever have predicted all these different factors coming together to make it all possible in the mess that was Taylor's mind right now.

And it was so, so convenient to me. A perfect cocktail of coincidences that Taylor's own mental state and my power had served up to me, tantalising in its potency. Especially given how I already knew my power's bonuses acted as a multiplier off of relationships that already existed, perhaps I wouldn't even need to wait for Taylor's apology - after a week of an explicit relationship, the next upgrade could have me outright demand it while throwing in some of Emma's perverted musings into the deal. This entire, messy situation navigated without incident. That would be nice.

I smile lightly. "You already know that I'm fine with it. My only concern was that it wouldn't be fair to you - and if you don't think it's a real issue, then I don't see any reason why we can't get a little closer from now on." Taylor's growing, infectious smile almost looks out of place on her usually-dour face. The quick step to close the distance between us, the momentary hesitation and then the pout only doubles that impression. "Something wrong?"

"It felt like the perfect time for a kiss to seal the deal, but that mask of yours is in the way." She almost sounds sulky. "I preferred the half-mask you wore last week."

"I do too." I admit, both hands coming up to land on her hips as she steps close to me. "But I figured this would be a little bit safer in case the ABB managed to get the jump on me."

"There's no ABB here. Nobody else at all, really. There was a camera in the corner, but I had my bugs take care of that before we even set foot in here. That Girl-" Despite the tension in the air, I can't quite stop the quiver in my lips as I hear the capital letters slam into place around Sophia's new title. Not that I was opposed to Taylor feeling a little jealous and competitive. It was good for the ego. "-isn't due to arrive for another hour or two, so we'll need to find a way to entertain ourselves while we wait for her to arrive. There's not even time for a real patrol, we'll have to think of something else." Taylor presses herself a little bit forward as I reciprocate, a small, self-satisfied smile on her face as she speaks.

I let my expression mirror hers. "Maybe we could get back to our previous topic. Admiring your choice in costume! With that conversation out of the way, I feel like I can be a bit more honest about how much I appreciate the look." My hands inch downwards. Taylor wasn't curvy, by any stretch of the imagination, but despite her own misgivings on the subject - she was definitely feminine enough to fill out a skintight bodysuit nicely. I'd been wanting to cop a feel or twenty ever since I first realised that the armoured part of the suit could come off separately - and now I had all the opportunity I needed to verify that Taylor actually did have a perfectly respectable ass.

Not 'quite' at Emma levels, but pretty close to par with Sophia. More than enough for me to appreciate. Definitely more than enough for me to have fantasised plenty of times about busting a load in and all over it. And now, those dreams were getting close to reality. Patience, Greg.

"I should hope so too. This look was for your benefit, after all." Taylor responds drily, oblivious to my internal musing. "But you don't have to limit yourself to just my costume."

I wasn't planning to. "Oh?" I encourage her.

Taylor flushes and leans into me. "W-well. If I'm going to be your girlfriend, as in, Void's girlfriend-" She hastily adds that last part, as if to forestall some imagined rejection at the mention of the word. "-then it only makes sense that we do, you know, boyfriend/girlfriend things together."

Obviously, Taylor. There's no way that any sane person would be on this end of the conversation we just had and think that we were going to be hugging each other once a week and kissing each other on the cheek like we were toddlers on a playground playing pretend-parents. I've been wanting to paint your insides white for the best part of a year, and I swear by any god that's listening I'm gonna do it if it kills me.

But I don't say that. Because Void Cowboy is a nice guy. A hero. Compassionate. Someone who cares about the feelings of his girls. Chivalrous in the face of a blushing, unsure maiden. Something like that. "Only if you're ready to take that step yourself." I assure her, injecting warmth into my voice. "I don't want you to feel like you need to push yourself to do something that you aren't sure about."

Some of the hesitancy bleeds out of her frame. "Right. I'm not ready yet-" She pauses, then flails her arms around to the side. "-as in, I hadn't really planned out this far. I completely intend to do everything you would expect from the perfect girlfriend, but I need to, um, find a place that sells-" She gestures downwards, face utterly scarlet. "-just in case-"

"Birth control, I get it. No need to explain yourself to me." I don't explain that I have a decent selection of condoms available right now. Don't need any awkward questions about why I have those in my hero costume, why the pack is half-empty or provide any precedent for Taylor not to handle this side of things herself. I certainly didn't intend to stop myself from going into any of my regular girls raw anytime soon, I felt pretty comfortable leaving the more personal decisions to them. It was only the occasional one-offs out in the city that I sometimes relied on the rubber for.

"Right. I just-" Taylor sighs. "-I just don't want you to feel disappointed that we're not... doing that. Right away, I mean. I'm nervous, but I really do want this. Want us." She emphasises. "It's not because I'm a prude or anything, and I know what I'm signing up for. Everything that going out with you might entail. I'm fine with it! Everything your other girlfriend does for you, I'll do it better. Just- just let me build up to it." She looks painfully embarrassed. "I've never even kissed any- a guy before, it's a bit of a change for me to even be thinking about this sort of thing." I note the pause and hasty correction, but opt not to challenge it.

"I can fix that, if you want." I offer.

She flushes and shakes her head. "Not without taking that mask off. I don't want to be difficult, I'm happy to keep this to an in-costume thing. I don't want to be difficult."

"I don't think its that much of an obstacle." I argue. "You can't see through your bugs yet, right?"

"See through them?" Taylor looks taken aback at the thought. "No, I- I don't think that's even possible. I mean, I guess I do get some kind of feedback from them - but it's all I can really do to shut it all out. There's too much to really parse at once. I've been trying to work on sound, but..." She trails off, lost in thought.

"I'll take that as a work in progress then." I nod. "Then, if we can just cover your eyes then my identity is safe if the mask comes off. Your mask doesn't get in the way, and we can have some fun ticking one more thing off of your bucketlist."

"I wouldn't peek, but actually-" Taylor straightens. "We- we can do that. I have a blindfold in my bag."

I raise an eyebrow. "You do?"

Taylor nods happily, rooting through her usual patrol supplies. "I thought it would be good to have a proper way to hold Oni Lee if we ever ended up fighting him again. Putting a bucket over his head doesn't quite feel as safe as something made for the purpose of blocking his vision."

"Once again, your preparation dwarfs mine." I make a mock bow.

She huffs. "I don't know why you bother worrying about me getting in a fight when you don't have any of this." She pats her supply bag. "What if you get injured, or need to provide first-aid? Do you even have zip-ties?"

"It's different for me." I protest. "I have the powers to win in a straight melee if they want to try something - and a lot of the people I beat up end up with a broken bone or two so they usually aren't rushing to escape." I smile winsomely. "And besides, I have a lovely partner who is thoughtful enough to bring all of that instead."

Taylor tries and fails to maintain her stern expression, the corners of her mouth turning up into a pleased smile at my words before she turns away sharply to hide her face. "I suppose there is that." She holds the black cloth over her head. "Help me with this?"

I dutifully wrap the thick cloth around the top of Taylor's mask several times, tucking the spare cloth under the wrapping to secure it firmly as Taylor shakes her head to the side to confirm that it isn't going to slip.

Well then. I wet my lips briefly as Taylor looks around from her position on the floor. Time for the moment of truth. I lift my full-face helmet off and over my head. No reaction. No outburst. Looks like she was telling the truth about not being able to see through her bugs yet. I'd suspected that to be the case, I'd have been shocked if Taylor had actually lied about that - but the thought had been lurking at the back of my mind. The question of exactly how challenge-Taylor had gained such a trick was still up in the air, after all. A second trigger? A boost from someone like Teacher? Simple profiency with her power? I had no way of knowing, only that she hadn't seemed to display the capability yet.

Maybe it was a pointless risk to take when I wasn't 100% sure, but it felt right - and it wasn't like being wrong would get me killed, it would just lose me access to Taylor as a partner for maybe the time it took me to beat one more challenge. Assuming, of course, that the discovery of my two identities didn't shock Taylor into realising I actually hadn't done anything wrong.

I set the helmet down in the ground, and in the next motion, gently push an unresisting Taylor backwards to the wall. I take a moment to appreciate the sight. A squirming, flushing, expectant Taylor. Lips, slightly parted in anticipation. Undersuit, clinging to her body and leaving no curve to the imagination. A Taylor that was happy - eager - to be claimed as mine. Not under my real name, but that only put a small damper on things. This was still something that I'd wanted for a long time. Something that I'd once dreamed of happening after I got powers, even if I'd been thinking more along the lines of being a knight in shining armour than what had actually happened. Even if my end goal had changed... it still felt good, feeling an old ambition being achieved.

I bring my lips forward to meet hers, and claim my prize. A chase meeting of the lips at first, but with Taylor so eagerly compliant I move to match her in enthusiasm. One hand clasps with hers and is held firmly against the wall, possessively keeping her in place - while the other slides along the curves of her costume, questing for the gaps in the side to allow my roaming fingers access underneath the thin layer of fabric. All the while, Taylor gets an express lesson in how to properly use her tongue at times like this.

Can't get lost in the moment. As eager as Taylor is, as eager as I am, I've got to remember that my sensibilities are very different to hers right now. My instincts were all ready to rip the last scrap of clothing off of her and rail her against the wall until Shadow Stalker arrives - but Taylor... she probably wasn't ready for that. Nor did I need her to be. Not today. There wasn't a rush. The only way to fuck this up was to scare Taylor off by pushing her a little bit too far out of her comfort zone. Even with Emma, I'd eased her into becoming my on-demand suckslut for a while before I finally took her completely. I could go faster than that with Taylor, certainly, but not so fast that I could safely take her from kissless, friendless virgin to a self-admitted slut like Emma in just a few hours. The act of taking her virginity alone would be a momentous, significant occasion - for her, at least. Not something to be speedran as a matter of course.

Best to take it slow. Get her used to us feeling each other up in dark rooms and alleyways, get her used to draining my balls before every patrol, give her confidence in the idea that the two of us were a thing and that us doing sexual things together was fine and normal - and only then start to further her horizons as my personal slut. This was like a... staircase. Or a ladder. Each new step was uncharted territory for her, and it was hard to tell which one she'd shrink away from and decide that - for today at least - that was one step too far to take all at once. No different from an ordinary relationship, really. Probably. Not that I have the greatest experience in a standard relationship, but I talk with a lot of people online and I've played a lot of dating sims so I have a pretty good idea what I'm talking about.

Slow and steady wins the race, right?

The more important thing to focus on here was easing Taylor into the next step - and if the way that she was practically throwing herself at me was any indication - that part was going quite nicely. I let my spare hand slide across her body. No resistance as I move along her hips, up to her chest - around the curve of her breasts, tracing over and around her nipples with only the thinnest of fabric between us. I roam further down her body, slowing as my fingers trail against the outline of her mound for the first time. Here, Taylor's enthusiastic kissing slows - a moment of processing the unspoken request interrupting the heat of the moment. Then, Taylor's legs imperceptibly widen against my touch - the closest thing to permission I'm ever going to get with both of our mouths otherwise occupied.

Taylor moans wordlessly into my mouth as I rub two fingers between her lips through her undersuit, grinding against her clit in circles as her hips buck upwards and against my hand in response to the motion. She breaks away from the kiss to gasp for air as my ministrations send shivers up her spine. "V-Void. You-" I silence her with my tongue again. I was enjoying this. A fresh appreciation for the current state of my life and my powers welling up within me at the succinct reminder that all the pain becomes worth it in the end. If you'd told the Greg of the past that for the sake of a little bit of trauma, he would get Taylor in this kind of situation? He'd have taken that deal on its own, even without the promise of more to come.

I let out a pleased hum to myself as my fingers report a growing, damp feeling as they press against Taylor's undersuit. Taylor herself seems oblivious, but I'll take that as a sign of a good job on my part. It would be better if the gaps in her remaining costume were large enough to fully slip my hand in and around her body, to do this exact movement without the costume in the way - but there was a certain appeal to making a mess of Taylor and her costume without ever actually touching her directly.

I break away first, taking no small amount of joy in the needy whine of complaint that the motion draws from her. A noise like that, coming from Taylor - Taylor! - of all people. Shy, stubborn, scowling Taylor. Every second of this was a minor miracle all on its own. It was one thing to see how my power had improved my life, but it was proving to be a real benefit for Taylor as well. I wasn't at all being harsh when I said that Taylor wouldn't be making much of herself without my power stepping in. She wouldn't even have me as her one, sole friend - recent argument aside - and certainly wouldn't be getting any action with the opposite sex if I hadn't stepped in to... save her. In a way. Maybe not the best word I could use... but I couldn't help but think that it wasn't entirely inappropriate either.

The fact of the matter was that she was exactly the same as me. If you took her current self, showed her past self and gave her the chance to go back... she'd never take it. Just because the upgrades my power handed out were tailor-made to benefit me... that didn't mean that they weren't upgrades in general as well.

"One more thing we can cross off your to-do list." I drawl.

A lazy smile glimmers on Taylor's face. "I'll give you that. A bit more intense than I expected." Taylor attempts to straighten out her mussed-up costume. "But not unpleasant."

"Just 'not unpleasant'?" I mimic an affronted tone. "I'm almost offended. My skills must have degraded."

"Clearly you need more practice." Taylor tells me wryly, slipping back into our more composed banter that is the norm on our patrols. "And we'll have to make plenty of time for that."

"I'll take that as a promise." I shake my head. "Hang on, I'll grab my helmet and you can take that off-"

"No." Taylor interrupts sharply.

I pause, mid-reach towards the floor. "No?"

"You don't have to take it off. I'll leave this on. I think I'll find this next part easier if I can't see anyone watching me." Taylor takes a step directly towards me, as I note an insect hanging on my shoulder - doubtless for her to use to track my position relative to her. "When you were pressed up against me, I could feel-" Taylor pauses, struggling with what word to use. "-it. It wouldn't be fair to have you do all of that, and not return the favour - right?"

I was in complete agreement, but I was supposed to be the gentleman here. I tilt my head to the side. "You don't have to push yourself. We've got all the time in the world."

"I do have to push myself." Taylor argues. "If I don't, I'll just get too comfortable with what I have - and eventually have it taken away from me by people who don't deserve it. If I can't handle your... needs, I can't even start to call myself your girlfriend in any capacity. The other girl, she would do the same for you." It wasn't a question. "I can do anything she can. End of story."

"And you think the blindfold will help with that?" I question.

Taylor pauses. "I don't really need to see, do I? I can just go-" She makes a crude jerking motion with her hand. "-like that? It's complicated, but I feel like if I can't see you watching me - I'll be less self-conscious about what I'm doing. Even though you'll obviously be-" She waves a hand aimlessly in the air. "-you know. Watching."

I shrug. "It's your choice, I suppose. Doesn't make much of a difference to me."

A soft smile. "Thanks, I know it seems silly but-"

"No, no. I think its admirable that you're stepping out of your comfort zone like this. You don't need to justify something small like that." I pause. "Some people are into that kind of thing anyway."

"Mmhm." Judging by the lack of reaction or hurried denials, that went completely over Taylor's head. Probably not as much of a porn addict as me, completely oblivious to the kinds of fetishes that were out there - even the tame ones.

Taylor stops in front of me. "How should I- I know what I'm supposed to do, obviously-" She rushes out. "-but, what position... do guys have a preference? Like, is it more comfortable to stand? Or do you prefer sitting? I can-"

"No need to be so nervous. I'm not going to run away just because it's your first time." I encourage her. "Let's keep it simple. I'll just stand here, and based on my experience - most girls I meet find it easier to work on their knees."

"Most-" Taylor shakes her head. "Okay. I'll do that then."

She awkwardly lowers herself to the ground, knees touching the ground and her bodyweight briefly resting on her ankles as she reaches her hands towards my waist - a nervous look of anticipation on what little I can see of her expression.

"Here, let me help with that." I handle my belt for her, sparing her the trouble of trying to navigate the various zippers and loops keeping her from her prize. Her questing hands find purchase on my clothes a moment later, and she shows surprisingly little hesitation about yanking them down and out of the way - only showing a hint of embarrassment as my cock springs free and lightly slaps against her head. Cool hands grasp the shaft a moment later - both of us pausing briefly as she idly squeezes my length, not unlike the first few times I'd gotten my hands on some tits.

"You'll let me know if I'm doing anything wrong, won't you?" Taylor slides one finger from tip to base, as if to measure it in her head. "You don't have to put up with something you don't like just to avoid hurting my feelings."

"To be honest, I think almost anything you do from that position will be something any guy would love to happen to them." I assure her. "Even just that-" I grunt as that one, lone finger trails back along the same path it took the first time. "-is kind of driving me wild."

"Really?" Taylor doesn't stop. "Well. I'm glad to hear that... but I still mean it. I'm not arrogant enough to think that I'm the expert here." Like That Slut. I mentally added the unsaid ending to that line. Jealous Taylor was kind of novel, a shame about the argument it took to get here - but the sense of brewing catfights over me was... kind of cool. Not the fights themselves, but the idea of being the kind of guy that those fights happened over. "If you don't like something, just let me know." Taylor orders me, shifting from light teasing into a firmer, all-encompassing grip around my cock as she performed her first, true stroke of my shaft.

This was great. Not just the handjob, but actually getting as far as a handjob without Taylor having a crisis about her life choices. It was good to know that I could get this far, with this level of interaction and this number of challenges. That was useful, relevant information that I could take into future encounters with gangs and the various hero groups of the city. "In my experience, as long as teeth don't get too involved - you can't really go wrong." I respond cheerily.

"Teeth? I wasn't-" She halts mid-sentence. "Well. I could- do people really-?" She runs her hand fully along my shaft again, as it to re-calculate the size. "I don't think I could even fit all of that inside me." She confesses. "It hadn't really crossed my mind." She returns to jerking me off.

"It's definitely something that needs to be learned by practice." I assure her. A hint of mischief pops up in the corner of my mind. Should I push her? It was no different than riling up Emma by talking about Taylor, just the exact reverse this time. "My girlfriend- my, ah, other girlfriend-" I correct myself. "-wasn't sure about it either, but she felt like she had to give it a go just because of what happens at the end. It was a choice between making a mess of our surroundings and leaving evidence of what we were doing, making a mess of her clothes or finishing inside of her mouth. Naturally, the latter was the preferred solution."

Taylor's lips pinch together. Hook. Line. Sinker. "I can see that. It would be rude to ruin this room, even as rundown as it is - it still doesn't belong to us. And I can't exactly wash out this costume properly without going home..."

"It's up to you." Technically true, but her next step was a foregone conclusion and we both knew it.

"...I can do it. It's not a big deal." With her blindfold still on, there's no need to hide my smile as she rises to the 'challenge'. She would hate the similarities I was drawing between her and Emma, but it was kind of funny that as much as they both hated each other - it seemed the easiest way to get both of them begging for my dick was just to hint at the existence of the other person.

"Either way, if you keep up like that - you'll have to decide really fast." I warn her. She hadn't stopped while mulling over the idea, and her firm, fast strokes were definitely sufficient to drive me all the way to the edge. To the point that, if I hadn't been deliberately holding myself back, she'd be utterly coated in my cum already. A fine look, in my opinion, but I don't think she would appreciate it as much as me at this stage.

Taylor takes a moment to comprehend my meaning, then starts as she realises the implication. She inches forward on her knees, mouth opening wide just as she gets close enough to guide my full length to sit at its entrance - resting on top of her tongue as she uses both of her hands to massage my cock at an even faster and more aggressive pace than before.

I rest one hand at the back of her head, trying to refrain from the natural instinct to take full control and start fucking her throat directly. Finally, Taylor's ministrations overwhelm any attempt at resistance I might have made. "T-Bug, I'm going to cum!"

"O'ay." Taylor affirms as best she can in her current position.  "I-" Whatever she might have said next, gets cut off by the initial torrent of my seed. To her credit and my partial surprise, she manages not to panic or jerk backwards in a way that would have me - 'tragically' - unload all over her face and chest instead.  Instead, she gets straight to swallowing even as she continues to milk my cock with her hands. A few stray droplets escape the side of her lips, but by keeping just my tip inside her mouth there's plenty of room to take my load without any major spills.

Shame. I was kind of looking forward to the alternative, even if this was probably the 'best' outcome.

I can't hold back the unconscious groan as Taylor rinses another splatter of seed out of me, the intensity dropping notably compared to the first eruption. She fully closes her lips around my tip as the burst reduces to a trickle, one that is only briefly intensified as she forms a vice-grip on my cock and drags it all the way up the shaft as if squeezing the last bit of sauce out of a wrapper. One, final flick of her tongue and Taylor releases her grip on me - leaving my freshly-cleaned cock exposed to the air.

She audibly swallows, looking contemplative. "That didn't feel so bad. Was it- did I do alright?"

I blink at the sudden transformation between apparent seductress and flushing teenager. The unexpected display of natural talent almost had me forgetting that this was... well. Taylor.

"That was brilliant." I tell her honestly. "I didn't expect you to be anywhere near as good as that."

A sigh of relief. "That's good." She tilts her head. "Do you want me to do it again then?"

I wave my hands in the air, pointless with the blindfold - but the instinct is too strong. "Not right now." I needed some time to recharge. It was one thing to go twice or even three times in a row if you'd been backed up for a while - I could manage that without any help when finding the perfect game or the perfect video - having a number of eager, hot women on hand to help only made it easier. The issue came when you weren't backed up. Emma had drained my balls before classes had even started today, and then we'd spent the best part of an entire period outright fucking in an abandoned classroom after Taylor had her... little meltdown. It had only been a few hours since then, and while I'd credit my power with driving my libido through the roof - even I was going to need a breather to recharge now and then.

I note Taylor's disappointment and hasten to amend my statement. "I'm a guy, you know - we need to recharge every now and then. Shadow Stalker isn't due for the best part of an hour - what do you say we try a repeat performance just before she's due to arrive at the meeting spot? I'd love a round two, and that way we can be sure that I won't have any awkward erections when we start sparring - you know, from hanging around such a beautiful heroine all afternoon." I grab my helmet off of the floor, slipping it back over my head with familiar ease.

The light returns to Taylor's expression as she lifts her blindfold up and away a moment later. Did she have a bug on the helmet? Maybe I'd been underestimating her situational awareness when limited to pure feedback from her bugs. "This is why we're such a great team. You have the best plans." She pats herself on the chest. "And you're quite right. She's just an acquaintance, not a long-term partner. There's no need for her to have anything to do with this or get any funny ideas - so I'll have to take care of it before she arrives." She pokes my dick meaningfully as I tuck it back away, an impish smile on her face. "Every time before she arrives. Just to be safe. You're mine, remember? As Void, at least." She amends that last part quietly.

I think of my future plans. My plans for an extended weekend sleeping over with the Trio. My burning determination that I was getting a foursome this weekend or dying in the attempt.

"Sure." The lie slips from my tongue like molten butter in the summer sun. "All yours."