The Body Shaper Pt. 04

Sometimes a person makes the biggest mistake of their life in the heat of the moment. Something a simple 'sorry' won't make up for.

It took two entire days for my temper to cool down and my reasoning to return to me, and then I had to deal with what I'd done.

At the time, out of my mind with anger and fear, what I did to those criminals seemed fitting. Poetic, even. In the harsh light of day, I had never been more ashamed.

"Pixie, I need to talk to you please," I asked quietly before walking away to our bedroom.

"What's going on, Jeffery?" she asked once I'd closed the door behind her.

"The Booties... I can't keep them like that. I've got to set them back to right, and turn us all in. I finally let my temper bury me," I shamefully admitted.

Pixie crossed her arms. "Be very sure this is what you want. If you turn yourself in, our business goes under. Assault with a superpower is a serious offense, Jeffery. People are depending on you for jobs here, including fifteen veterans we just hired as security."

I wiped my eyes, not that it helped. "Yeah, I don't see any other way. This isn't me, Pix. If... if I do get sent to the lockdown, then just liquidate, okay? Give everyone a big enough severance to retire if they want. Even the new hires."

"I don't care about the murdering assholes, Jeffery. I care about you! What am I supposed to do without you? Go back to spending my days sitting in that fucking chair and hoping that today is the day someone finally visits me!?"

I nodded sadly. "I get that I screwed over more people than just me here, Pix. But I've got to set things right as much as I can, and take my lumps. You understand, right?"

"Fine. Fine!" she shouted suddenly and choked back a sob. "I'll... I'll call Carlos Hernandez, see if he can get ahold of some handcuffs for the assholes. You'd better hope whatever prison you get sent to has conjugal visits, Jeffery."

******

We walked into the police station. Me, Callie, the restored assholes in handcuffs, and three of my new security guys manhandling the criminals along.

Everything stopped when we walked in. "Hi there," I tried, my voice shaking. "Uh, these three kidnapped me at gunpoint, I've got it on video. I think they're wanted for murder, that's what they told me anyway. Then... then I need to turn myself in for assault with a superpower."

Things got loud after that.

******

"We can make a case for temporary insanity, Jeff," my lawyer tried to console me. "I don't think self defense is going to fly here."

I stared around the room that I was ushered to, awaiting... something. Probably the Protectorate.

Superpowered crimes were generally handled by the local superhero team, and here in sunny California, we had the Andreas Protectorate.

This wasn't the way I wanted to meet the women that most of the country, if not the world, looked up to. Not at all.

"I think I'm just screwed, Callie."

The door opened, and two women I always wanted to meet walked into the room. Well, one floated.

There was Warmaiden ducking under the doorway, all eight feet of bulging curves and chiseled muscle, wearing her costume of sports bra, spandex shorts, and mask that covered her face from forehead to nose. She might have been glaring, I couldn't really tell through the white eye pieces.

Floating after her was Psionica, the purple-pink astral flame she projected enveloping her from head to toe, looking more like living flame shaped like a woman than a human being. She was definitely glaring.

I stood, my hands feeling very heavy inside the power restraint cuffs.

"Jeffery Marks," Psionica started, her voice sounding like three women speaking in unison. "Super ability to alter biology by touch. Confessed to misuse of power by torturing three men who kidnapped you. Turned over to the custody of the Andreas Protectorate by the police. Anything to say for yourself?"

I glanced at Callie, but unfortunately she wasn't any help. She was out cold, sleeping in her chair.

Right. Psionica had pretty much all the psychic powers. She probably put her to sleep. I doubted it was legal, but I wasn't in a position to do anything about it. The hypocrisy was astounding.

"I lost my temper when they bragged about killing a family. It took some time to cool off enough to see how wrong I was." I shrugged, trying to find the words. "'Sorry' doesn't seem like it's enough."

Psionica looked through me for a moment. "You have a choice here, Mr. Marks. One choice is you go to Southwest Lockdown. Given that most of the inmates are women who are far more powerful than you, I expect that you'll be somebody's bitch within an hour."

She paused, letting that sink in, then glanced to my sleeping lawyer. "Option two is indefinite probation on account of temporary insanity. One more misuse of your power, and I will personally throw you into lockdown so fast your head will spin. Now ask me what the catch is."

I swallowed hard. "Wha-What's the catch?"

"You sign up as an auxiliary to the Protectorate."

My mouth dropped open.

"We need a healer, Mr. Marks. I'm sick of having to bury six to ten of my friends every time one of the Destroyers surfaces anywhere in North America. You'll be on call if any of us get injured and for Destroyer attacks, and God help you if you don't answer the call."

"It doesn't sound as though I have much of a choice, do I?" I tried to keep the fear out of my tone. Destroyers were the most terrifying thing on the planet, and now I was going to be on the front lines every time one popped up.

Psionica gestured, and my restraints telekinetically unlatched and fell away as a very high tech watch floated over to me from within the flame that enveloped her. "You don't take this off. Not even to bathe. If we need you, we'll contact you. You're free to go. Don't fuck up again."

Without a backward glance, Psionica floated from the room. I glanced at Warmaiden, and she held her hand out, thick fingers spread in a 'stop' gesture.

Warmaiden turned her head to look, making sure her partner had left, then looked back to me. "Sorry about that," she rumbled. "Psi doesn't have the best people skills, but the truth is we really do need you on the team to fix us up. We have a cape who teleports, okay? Evac will ferry people to you when we need your help, and you'll be at least a mile away in the event of a Destroyer. We know you're not a combatant, and we'll keep you as safe as possible. But, I kind of need you to look at something for me right now."

I blinked. I was used to feeling lost, but this was on a whole new level. "Sure?"

Warmaiden reached up and took her mask off. Behind it was a beautiful woman... except for her eye.

It looked like someone had smashed her orbital bone, and she lost her eye over the damage. Her contoured mask, with its white eye coverings, had completely hid her wound. She pointed at her seemingly old injury, "Nigh-invulnerable isn't actually perfectly invulnerable."

This was my side job now. "Alright. Uh, I'll need you to sit down, you're too tall for me to work on you standing up."

I looked at Callie, and the little bit of a double chin she'd already developed. She really did have a problem keeping her weight from ballooning.

I scooped her double chin from her face, and turned to see the premier superheroine of the country had taken a knee, waiting for me.

She shrugged, "I'm too heavy for these chairs."

"Okay. You'll feel a weird pulling sensation, but I've got to get this on you now, so hold still please."

I placed the borrowed mass over her eye socket, and got to work, shaping it to be identical to the undamaged side of her face. As I was working, a bit of plastic fell from my hand to clatter on the floor.

I ignored it, focused on making her new eye match her other, nearly black iris. Feeling like I was done, I stepped back and carefully looked her over. "I think you're good now," I offered before bending to pick up the black round plastic thing.

I stared at it, unable to figure it out, and Warmaiden plucked it from my hand and giggled at it, squinting to look through only her new eye. "My conformer," she laughed.

Just like the injured veterans at the VA, my power extracted any foreign materials all by itself. My ability really didn't like implants of any kind.

Then the biggest, most famous active superheroine in the world picked me up from the floor in a big hug, gentle enough to not crush me with her huge, super-abled muscles, and planted a firm kiss to my lips.

It was surreal.

She set me back down to my feet and turned to look in the mirror that ran the length of one wall, reverently touching her repaired cheekbone with a gentle finger. "Thanks, really. What do we call you?"

I was still stunned over the peck. "Jeff."

She giggled again. Warmaiden giggles. "No, for your codename?"

I crossed my arms and firmly insisted, "Jeff. My codename is Jeff." It wasn't like I had a secret identity.

******

Pixie was waiting for me the second I walked inside of our home. "Well!?"

Behind her, Kimberly and the twins waited with bated breath for my answer.

I smiled wanly. "They let me off the hook as long as I signed up as an auxiliary to the Protectorate. Any time a Destroyer surfaces, I'm expected to go with them and keep them alive."

Pixie relaxed out of her defensive stance and her face softened. "Oh Jeffery," she pitied. She knew how terrified I was about the building-sized monsters.

The tiny woman stepped close and wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me tight. I buried my face into her short, wild red hair and breathed her in, holding her back.

"Come on Honey," she beckoned, beginning to lead me to our bedroom. "I have a really bad need to cuddle you right now, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. Maybe being held by your harem will make it seem not so bad. At least you're not going to super-jail, right?"

I huffed tiredly. "You're not my harem," I weakly tried.

The thing was, having four beautiful naked women holding me actually did help a little.

******

I waited as Winter rinsed the shaving cream remnants from my face, then pulled her into a kiss, grasping her big, soft ass and massaging the shining ivory flesh there.

Winter happily kissed me back, enjoying me playing with her bottom even more than I enjoyed playing with it.

My morning routine with the twins took very little time to get used to. They really did love washing me in the shower, and if I felt like stealing a kiss or a fondle, they were all for it. I just had to make sure my morning breath was gone first. I wouldn't subject them to that.

Summer's hands left my hair, patiently waiting for me to finish molesting her agreeable sister before she rinsed the shampoo out.

Reluctantly, I backed off of Winter's kissable lips, darting back in for one more peck before turning to face Summer, bowing my head and grasping her thin, athletic waist to keep my balance as she used the removable shower nozzle to rinse my hair out.

The twins begged me, often, to indulge myself in any impulse I had with them. Once my hair was rinsed out, I had the wild notion to just bury my face between Summer's big, dark breasts. So I did.

I planted my face into the wet crevice between her soft double-Gs and relaxed a little, feeling Winter begin to clean my backside.

Not bothered in the slightest, Summer began to work conditioner into my hair as I nuzzled her softness with my freshly shaven face. It was incredibly comforting.

"Are you still feeling down, Master?"

I cringed, and finally pulled up out of her cleavage so she could rinse my hair again. "Yeah. I think I always will, at least a little. I think I'd feel less guilty if I actually went to the lockdown instead of being strong-armed into being superhero support."

Summer froze for a moment. "You know we aren't judging you, right? As a woman of color, I have no problem with what you did to them."

Hair rinsed out, I stood straight and raised my arms so the twins could finish washing me. "Well, never again. I was told, point-blank, by a very intimidating cape that one more screw up and I'm going down."

Summer kneeled in front of me, a loofah in her hand, and began washing my lower body as Winter's hands snaked around me from the back to wash my front.

Her task finished, Summer stood and rinsed the body wash from my front, before handing the nozzle to her sister so she could rinse my backside. "Maybe our Master would like some attention to take his mind off of it for a bit?"

"Like what?" I wondered dubiously.

Summer glanced over my shoulder at Winter. "Well... there is one thing. Would you indulge us, Master?"

"Probably. What did you want?"

In lieu of a response, Summer got back on her knees and inhaled my dick halfway into her mouth. Behind me, Winter spread my cheeks with her hands and began to lick at my ass.

I sighed in surrender, bracing my hand on the wall as Winter snaked her hand between my legs to pump the part of my cock Summer couldn't fit into her mouth. Who would have thought, that of all things, they'd want to give me a Rusty Trombone?

******

Dressed, I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and grabbing one of the big blueberry muffins Summer had made the night before.

I sat, slowly eating, and relaxed. It took the combined efforts of Pixie, Kimberly, Winter, and Summer to get my head partway back into the cheerful place it was usually at after the whole 'I did a horrible thing' thing, and they worked on me for days.

Pixie did bring up a really good point, though. They were unrepentant murderers, and had I went along with what they wanted not only would they just continue on with their self-imposed 'ethnic cleansing' under new identities, but there was a good chance I wouldn't have made it out alive afterward. Neither would any of my friends and self-appointed family who weren't white. The legal system, assuming it didn't fail, would have sentenced them to life in prison if not death.

Instead, I'd sentenced them to a two days of psychological torment in a form of poetic justice. No judge, no jury, just me and my self-righteousness.

I obviously wasn't a hero, not at all. After that, if I was anything I was more of a vigilante. Maybe... maybe worse. I was coming to terms with learning that about myself, but it was a slow process. Even so, time waits for no one. Life does, in fact, go on.

Kimberly staggered into the kitchen half-asleep, with her giant tits threatening to burst out of her short silk robe and lifting me out of my dark thoughts.

She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me into her cleavage for a moment and kissing the top of my head. I wrapped an arm around her tiny waist gratefully from where I sat to return the brief hug. "Sit down, Beautiful. I'll pour you some coffee."

Once she let me go, I did as promised. I poured her a big mug of coffee, stirring in the crazy amount of sugar she liked.

I slid it in front of her, checking how awake she was. "Trouble sleeping last night?"

Kimberly nodded, head propped on her hand and not bothering to open her eyes. "Mm-hm. I get that the twins like to sleep wrapped around your legs, I do, but it's hard for me to get comfortable on you with them there. I'm always worried that I'm going to knee Winter in the back of her head."

I frowned. Come to think of it, the twins were very tall and there wasn't a lot of room down there for them. "I didn't realize... well, a lot of things. Like usual. We'll have to figure something else out if you all insist on sleeping in the bed with me at the same time."

Kimberly scoffed and took a sip of her coffee. "There's not one of us willing to give that up, I guarantee you."

I stood, hearing the other three making noise as they made their way down the stairs, and set to pouring everyone else some coffee. First though, I wedged my hand down into Kimberly's exposed cleavage and gave the inside of her left boob a little squeeze.

Kimberly made a little happy noise and used her arms to press her breasts together, hugging my hand with her tits. She still hadn't opened her eyes, and was gorgeously adorable in her mostly-asleep state.

I set out the coffee mugs around the table, looking up as the others padded in.

Pixie, in her tailored business suit and skirt combo was wide awake, tasteful makeup on and short, wild red hair sticking up every which way. As she passed by me, she groped my package and squeezed my butt. "Good Morning, Jeffery," she sing-songed.

I smiled faintly. "Good Morning, Pixie." A guy didn't live with Pixie without becoming accustomed to being groped at any opportunity. Come to think of it, neither did a woman, as I watched Pixie wrap her short arms around Kimberly from behind and honk her enormous tits.

"Good morning, Kimberly," she smiled, causing Kimberly to place the hand not holding her head up over one of Pixie's tiny ones, squeezing her own breast with Pixie's hand trapped between. "Mornin'" she muttered.

Kimberly still had yet to even crack an eyelid.

Summer and Winter entered the room last, in identically cut clothing. Only, Winter was wearing pink, and Summer was wearing blue.

It was one of their quirks. When they went shopping, they bought identical outfits in opposite colors, or complimentary colors if they couldn't manage opposites, and always wore them in pairs. If Winter wore black, Summer wore white. If Summer wore gold, Winter wore silver. Red and navy. Purple and yellow. Always identical outfits, just in different colors. Much like the twins themselves were.

Part of me wondered how they chose which outfit to wear, but they were on the same wavelength way before I ever made them into sisters. They probably didn't even have to discuss it.

Winter lifted her coffee mug from the table, took a careful sip, and eased herself down to the floor to sit at my feet, head resting against my thigh. I stroked her hair a bit, petting her like a cat. She purred in a pretty close approximation of one in return.

It was another one of their quirks. They liked to sit at my feet, as long as being groped wasn't on the table. I was trying to embrace it for the sake of their happiness. The twins really got off on being subservient.

I held up the half-eaten muffin in my hand. "These muffins are amazing, Summer. Really."

The gorgeous black woman smiled bashfully, but genuinely at me. "Thank you, Master. Can I make you anything else for breakfast?"

I shook my head, "No, this is really hitting the spot." As though to prove it, I took an inhumanly large bite out of the muffin.

Time was whiling away, though. I leaned over and rubbed my thumb over Kimberly's cheek. "Are you coming to work today? Time is running short, Beautiful."

Kimberly's eyes snapped open, zeroing in on the clock. She jumped to her feet with a shriek, causing her left tit to bounce out through the part in her robe, and raced out of the room holding that freed breast in place with her hand rather than stuffing it back inside.

I pursed my lips, valiantly trying to restrain my laughter, and that worked. Right up until Summer snorted. Then Winter buried her face against my thigh and let out a little giggle. Before I knew it, we were all laughing at Kimberly's less than graceful exit.

Maybe, just maybe, the women in my life could get me past the biggest mistake of my life.

******

"Hello there, I'm Jeff Marks. You must be Mr. Ross."

He stood to shake my hand, and I looked down at the sunglasses-clad girl next to him. "And your daughter...?" I asked leadingly.

The father lovingly ran his hand down the girl's hair. "This is Becca. Say hello, Honey."

"Hi," she offered shyly, clutching her white cane.

One of the things I liked about the new facility was that I didn't have to deal with the flash drives any more. Pixie brought up a good point that there was a lot of mischief people could get up to before I turned on the recorder and after I'd shut if off. Or they could claim something happened during those times in a lawsuit. Clients would sign the waiver when they came in, and Sergeant Hayes would start recording from up in his office before anyone even entered the room. Legally, it was in our best interests. Personally, it was one less thing I had to worry about.

"So, what can I do for you today?"

"Becca, she's blind. You can fix that, right?"

"Yes I can," I assured him, fingering through the file for a Form-J. It was there, as expected. Kimberly had trained Janice, Manny, and Fran well. "Has she always been unable to see?"

"Yeah. Since birth," he confirmed, giving his daughter a sad look.

"Alright, here's the bad news. I can fix her sight, right? Make her eyes talk to her brain, correct any atrophy of the eye muscles. What I can't do is give her the ability to make sense of what she sees. People learn that when they're still babies."

"Oh, uh... that makes sense. So... so what do we do?"

I shrugged. "That, I can't help you with. You're going to have to teach her to interpret what she sees, or find someone who can. The good news, is that that's all the bad news I have for you. This is a Form-J. It's a waiver of any and all fees on our parts."

"You... for free? What's the catch?"

I smiled, "No catch. Did you notice all of the miscellaneous photos and items behind the reception desk when you came in? Each and every one represents a child I've helped. I'd like a photo with Becca. What I'd love is for her to snap her sunglasses in two after this, and I'll mount the pieces behind the desk. Regardless of whether or not you indulge me, this little girl is going to have her sight before you leave. Just as soon as you fill out that form."

Once I had the paperwork, I turned to the little girl. "Okay, Becca. Why don't you take off your glasses, and we'll get to work."

The little girl twisted her fists around her cane fretfully for a bit, before propping it at an angle over her shoulder and pulling her sunglasses off.

Becca Ross had the most amazing shade of hazel in her eyes. However, since she'd never used them before, the muscles were atrophied and they drifted off in different directions.

I studied the color of her irises very carefully for my visualization, not wanting to change that even a hair.

"Okay Becca. I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, and I'll put my thumbs on your eyelids. You'll feel a weird pulling sensation, and that's normal. You ready?"

The little girl closed her eyes, reaching out a hand for her daddy to hold.

I concentrated, and swiped my thumbs over Becca's eyes outward. "That's it. Not so scary, right? Open your eyes, Becca. Let's see what you see."

The girl opened her eyes, and those beautiful hazel orbs, while not quite working together yet, darted everywhere they could. "Wow," she exhaled.

Blindly tracing her hand up her father's arm to his face, she looked at his features for the first time, using her fingers to correlate her sense of touch to what she could now see. "I see you, Daddy," she told him. "I see you!"

Mr. Ross had tears leaking down his face, but if he noticed he didn't care. "I... oh my God, Becca," he sobbed, gathering her up in a hug and swinging her around as she shrieked in laughter.

After a moment, he stopped and gazed at me as I gathered her file together. "I don't know how... how do I thank you?" he despaired.

I smiled conspiratorially. "I'd really like Becca to break her sunglasses and give them to me," I suggested again.

He set his daughter to her feet and smiled at her, "What do you think, Honey? You don't need them anymore."

Afterward, I strolled to the front of the shop, handing the two pieces of black sunglasses to Manny, snapped in two along the nosepiece by a seven-year old girl with all the strength in her little arms. "Hey Manny, can you mount these on the wall for me?"

I wasn't a saint. Doing things like this, though... maybe I wasn't such a bad guy, either.

At least that's what I kept telling myself.

******

I walked to the employee entrance in the rear of the building, fighting with myself to keep from loosening my tie. Even after all of this time, I still wasn't quite used to wearing one.

I was so very ready for lunch, my stomach had been growling at me for the last hour, which caused one of my clients to outright laugh about it.

It's very hard for me to give a woman a tummy tuck while her belly is jiggling in laughter.

I spotted the doorway to outside, and the very large man who stood at my arrival. I stumbled to a stop. "Captain Hernandez?" I questioned.

He nodded at me, "Sir."

"Uh, what's going on, Captain?"

He smiled slightly, only for an instant. "It was decided that you needed a bodyguard when you're off of the grounds. I volunteered."

I stared, dumbfounded. "You did?"

The large Latino man gestured towards the door. "I will answer any questions you have, but might I suggest that we get moving? I don't want to make you late for your reservation."

I looked back and forth between his inscrutable face and the door for a minute, before shaking my head and just rolling with it.

Striding behind the big man, I followed him to my car and he opened the back door for me, firmly shutting it once I was sat inside.

"Hold up, Winter. Captain Hernandez is coming too," I cautioned.

"Master?" she queried, just as the Captain opened the door to settle beside me.

One eyebrow raised over his dark sunglasses. "Master?" he parroted, almost accusingly.

I glared at the back of Winter's head. "Oh no, I'm not explaining this. You get to fill him in, Miss Blabbermouth!"

Winter tilted her head upward, then banged it gently on her headrest a couple of times. "Jeff lets me and my sister call him 'Master'," she admitted. At his incredulous look, she bluntly elaborated, "We get off on it."

The Captain's mouth opened, shut, and then he shook himself. "It's really none of my business," he finally decided.

I was overjoyed to move along. "Okay, so you said you'd answer my questions, right? Who decided that I needed a bodyguard?"

"The unit, Sir," was his immediate response. "We have your facility and grounds well covered, and Hayes has eyes everywhere up in his post, but outside of the grounds we can't protect you, so here I am."

"And you volunteered for this?" All I could think of was that he pissed someone off, and was forcibly 'volunteered' to babysit the hapless idiot.

"Everyone volunteered, Sir. The whole unit." He cracked a hint of another smile, "Even Ramirez."

I blinked at that. Janet Ramirez was maybe ninety pounds, soaking wet. "They did? Why?"

Captain Hernandez pulled his sunglasses off and leaned towards me a little. "Sir, I watched you pull screws and pins and plates up out of my body by the handful, without any pain at all. Fixed my leg and arm, like the IED never even happened. Rewound my clock to an even better body than I had in my twenties, and you did it just because you could. You fixed Ramirez's face and hook. Hayes's legs. Tank's spine. The list goes on. Then, you offered anyone who wanted a job a real good one, Sir. Lots of pay, any equipment we needed."

He blinked exactly once, staring intently into my eyes. "Any reqs we put in, you came through for us. We have ordinance, and body armor, and the surveillance we need to do our job right, and you didn't quibble over any of it, which puts you above any C.O. I've ever had before. I was chosen to guard you because I've got the most skill and experience for this. Sixteen years as an active Army Ranger, Sir. I will keep you safe, and if I fall in the line of duty, there's a list of fourteen other experienced soldiers chomping at the bit to take over from me."

I settled back, staring at nothing. The way he put it made it seem so selfless, like I wasn't trying to get a security team I could trust. Sure, I could have held the healing over their heads unless they wanted to sign up, but that felt dirty. I wasn't going to strong-arm anyone into it. I'd never be able to trust them that way.

"Okay..." I slowly nodded, wrapping my mind around the new information. "So... what do I need to do to make your job easier, here?"

Hernandez put his sunglasses back on his face. "For now, just let me exit the vehicle first, Sir. I'll open your door once I've verified your safety."

And that was that. From that moment forward, I had a dedicated bodyguard in one Captain Carlos Hernandez.

******

I handed the file to Janice. "Who's next?"

Janice smiled at me from her desk, handing me a different file. "Room Eleven. You have a Bridgette Jorg, Labial reconstruction."

I blinked at the file. Had it been six months already? Swimming up out of my reverie, I spied Janice carefully not smirking at me. Someone had obviously told her about my little crush on the actress.

"Alright, who spilled?"

"Pixie," Janice admitted. "And Kimberly. And Winter."

I groaned and grabbed the file from her. "Fine. Fine! So I've got a little crush, so what?"

Janice shook her head in amusement at me. "You get these A-list Hollywood starlets in here after hours, and nothing. Not a second glance. This one pornstar comes in and you're tripping over your smile for hours. Not any of the other pornstars that you see in here, just this one."

I opened my mouth soundlessly before snapping my jaw shut with an audible click. I really had nothing to defend myself with. "I don't have to take this," I told her in a mock-haughty tone. "I have work to do!"

"Go," she laughed, shooing me with her hands. "Go see your girl."

Mustering up all of the dignity I had left and trying to tamp down my smile to not quite blinding, I knocked on the door to Room Eleven.

"Come in!" a familiar voice called out. "I'm decent!"

"Hello again, Ms. Jorg. It's nice to see you."

"Hiya, Handsome," she volleyed back, at ease wearing nothing but one of our robes and obviously having just used the complimentary shower.

"Alright, so you want to go back to how you were, right?" I checked.

"Um, not exactly? I brought in a picture of a prettier pussy. That's okay, right?" She looked terrified that I was going to tell her no.

"Well sure! It's really all the same on my end as far as that goes. Did you give your picture to reception or do you have it with you?"

"Oh, uh, it's here, in my purse. Just give me a second."

I waited while she dug a folded printout from her purse, and once I had it in my hand I carefully examined it.

The photo had puffier outer labia and much smaller inner labia than what she'd started with. I could see why she wanted to make the change, not that I'd comment on it out loud. "Okay, this works. If you'd care to stand and open your robe, we'll get this done."

The frankly gorgeous porn actress stood and rather than just opening her robe, she dropped it completely to the floor. Her bared skin revealed the high, enhanced breasts I'd spent many a lonely night masturbating to and the limp, heavy penis and enormous testicles that I'd done my best to forget.

"Do you want the extra mass put back into your midsection, or should I make it into hair that you can cut off?"

"Oh, make it into hair, deffo. It's been so long since I've had pubes, having a shit-load of pubes sounds funny as hell," she laughed, with a couple of dorky snorts thrown in for flavor.

Looking back, I think it was the dorky snort in her laugh that precipitated my crush in the first place.

It took a matter of minutes to transform her big male genitalia into the vagina she desired and blonde pubic hair three feet long. I think she didn't realize just how that mass would transfer into hair.

She gathered the hair up like a ponytail, holding it out in front of herself, and gave it a few gentle tugs. A moment of shock later, and she was belly laughing so hard that I couldn't help but to laugh along with her.

"Please tell me you have a scissor in here," she pleaded, still fighting back giggles and snorts.

I honestly didn't know. I began searching through the drawers of the desk in the shaping room, and came across a scissor normally used for paper. "I have this?"

"Please cut this off," she asked me, holding the long hair out from her crotch. "It doesn't have to be close, but I wore a skirt today!"

One snip later, and I was holding three feet of Chalice Vixen's pubic hair. To this day I still don't know if I should have been turned on or grossed out.

I dropped the hair into the trash can, and handed her a hand mirror. Kimberly would take care of the trash when she cleaned the room. "Why don't you inspect my work, make sure you're happy with how you look?" I suggested.

She placed the mirror on the floor and squatted over it, spreading her lips and checking out her new pussy. "Fuck-in'-rights! Now that's a beautiful cunt!"

I grinned at the descriptor. I imagined that in her line of work, a foul mouth was actually a benefit. "I take that to mean you're satisfied?"

"Oh hell yes," she over-agreed.

I smiled as she stood back upright and went to her discarded clothing. Myself, I went to the sink to wash my hands.

"Hey, uh, listen. Do you have a couple of minutes to talk?" she cautiously ventured.

I checked my watch as I was drying my hands. With the new facility and number of shaping rooms, we were able to compress our operating hours from ten down to eight. With that, though, my schedule became really tight. "I have like, two minutes. I'm sorry, I really am busy all the time here."

"Oh. Uh, never mind. It's okay."

I searched her face, and she looked... dejected, somehow. Maybe a little hopeless.

"Look, Ms. Jorg, I'm being completely honest when I tell you that the only free time I have during the workday is my lunch break. If you need to talk, come back at a little before one o'clock, and we can talk while we eat. Or, well, while I eat, anyway. If you want to eat too, I'll buy you lunch."

It was her turn to search my face, frozen with her panties halfway up her legs. Whatever she was looking for, she found. Or didn't find. Or... something. "Like, ten minutes to one?"

"Yeah. I'll come get you from the waiting room around then."

She finished pulling up her underwear, snapping the elastic into place. "It's a date, Handsome."

******

I pulled out Bridgette's chair for her, and once I'd scooted her in, I took my own seat on the other side of the table.

She looked at me with a mysterious smile for long enough that I just had to ask, "What?"

She shook her beautiful blonde head, "I'm trying to figure out why you do this."

"I'm sorry, why I do what, exactly?" I was very sure there would eventually come a day when a conversation with a woman wouldn't leave me lost.

"This, this business you have. You work, what, forty hours a week with only a lunch break?"

I rolled my eyes and settled back, laughing under my breath. "It used to be so much worse. When we first started out, and it was just Pixie and me? Fourteen hour days, five days a week."

"But that's kind of my point!" she insisted. "You could work like, one fucking hour a week, for some rich fucker, and be set! Why all of this?"

I debated with myself about how much to share. I debated for so long that a waitress came by to get our orders before I'd decided.

"The usual, Mr. Marks?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you Josie."

"And for you, Ma'am?"

Bridgette cringed at being called 'Ma'am'. "Half portion of a house salad, no dressing, and water to drink."

I frowned at that. Could anyone actually survive only eating half of a salad?

"So, you were about to tell me a story, I think," she prodded.

"Alright, uh... When we first started this thing, it was just Pixie and me, and we opened the doors on a Monday. By that Friday we were still sitting there, and we hadn't had a single phone call."

"I wanted to do some good with my power, so I just bailed, right? I mean, from the moment I found out what I could do, my goals were to use it to make a living and help people. I went out looking for someone who could really use my help. I found that first someone at Our Lady of Mercy Children's Hospital."

Bridgette shifted in her chair, the teasing expression she had been wearing morphing into something undefinable.

"I wandered into the burn ward. There was this guy, and he had big, wet bandages on his face and hand. Brad was his name. I get him to talking, and find out he had a little girl in the ICU, barely hanging on."

I leaned over the table, looking into Bridgette's eyes as they began to water. "So I convince him that I can help his little girl. I do that by shaping away his burns, right in front of his eyes. This one nurse, she sees the whole thing, and she insists on helping."

"I will never, ever forget Emma Baxterfield. I took this little girl, charred to a crisp, and I made her brand new again. The nurse volunteered to donate some of her body fat to help me fill Emma out, and when that little girl was all better, the nurse begged me to help the other kids."

"So I did. When that nurse ran out of body fat, she corralled another big nurse, and when he ran out, they went and got another. Seventeen children, Bridgette. I gave seventeen children their futures back, and all it cost me was time."

I sat back as our food arrived, taking a drink of my sparkling white apple juice and staring into the glass. "But then, greed happened. The doctors and the nurses, the ones who had to try and help those kids? They were all for me fixing them up. The hospital administration, though, that was another story."

I glanced at Bridgette, who was somehow hanging on my every word. "They fired those three nurses. Then they filed a lawsuit against me."

"No!" she gasped.

I shrugged, "It didn't go anywhere. I had the parent's explicit permission. Matter of fact, the parents sued the hospital over them suing me. But then the restraining orders started to roll in. Unless it's an emergency, I'm barred from entering the property of any of the hospitals in the area."

I'd rambled long enough. It was time I got to the point. "Doing what I'm doing, it lets those who really need my help come to me. I generally heal up anyone who needs it for free. And yeah, the rich who don't want to wait for their vanity to be appeased can come in after hours and pay a hundred times what waiting would cost, which is the majority of our income. That's how we keep the doors open, so that when a little girl comes in who can't see, or a little boy does who had his face chewed off by a dog, I get to give them a better, brighter future."

Bridgette just stared at me.

"Uh, was that flexing? I feel like I was just flexing. I'm sorry."

"I think I just fell in love with you a little bit," she breathed, obviously not seriously. Obviously.

I rolled my eyes, shrugging it off. "Eat, your salad's getting... Cold? Warm? Your salad is getting some kind of temperature change, anyway."

I cut into my steak, and lifted that speared chunk of dripping goodness to my mouth, savoring the flavor.

Bridgette waved her fork at me. "But is that even legal? The restraining orders, I mean."

"Turns out, yes. It goes back to the late sixties, early seventies. There was this cape named Prizmis, right? And she had the power to shoot this prismatic light out of her hands that healed people. She called them her 'Rainbow Rays'. Made what I can do to heal people look like a joke."

"Prizmis, she goes around from hospital to hospital, cleaning them out of patients. Everyone from the old woman on life support to the guy with a little cough, they all leave healthier than they've ever been. And she keeps doing it."

"The hospitals, they can't keep her out. Not only is she not doing anything wrong, she is in fact helping people. But the hospitals can't stay afloat with her doing that. By 1973, only one out of every four hospitals in Myrtle Beach still has their doors open."

Bridgette's brow furrowed as she tried to remember. "Wait..."

"Yeah. The Myrtle Beach Destroyer attack. Worst loss of life in any Destroyer attack, ever. Myrtle Beach never really recovered from it. The government starts looking into just why so many people died, and they find out about Prizmis putting all of the hospitals under. So they came up with the Myrtle Beach Statute: Any medical provider can bar their doors to a cape with healing abilities."

"How do you know all of this? Are you, like, a fuckin' history genius or something?" she wondered.

I scoffed and cut another slice of the best steak in the world. "Hardly. My lawyer explained it to me. More than once. With smaller and smaller words until I finally understood. But I'm sure this all isn't what you really wanted to talk about, so... what's up?"

"Oh, uh. I don't know where to start. I'm not very proud of it, but the first time I came into your place, I tried to talk your big-titty asian girl into doing porn."

"I know," I grinned, "She told me about it. Flattered her to the moon and back."

Bridgette breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn't upset over that. "Right. So I'm trying to tell her how much money she could make, and she just laughs and tells me how much she's making working for you. It got me thinking."

"Doing porn... it's a machine. When I was eighteen, I was this hot young starlet, making money hand over fucking fist, and I spent it as fast as I earned it. I never realized that those days were numbered."

"By the time I was in my late twenties, I was labeled as a MILF. Can you fucking believe that!? Twenty-eight, and considered a MILF. When I hit thirty-five, my genre was 'Mature'. In ten years, any movies I make will probably considered fucking Granny-Porn. And as I get older, I have to do more and more extreme things to get work."

I offered, "Like owning a penis for six months?"

"Yeah. That, and worse... like trying to recruit talent." Bridgette gave me a searching look. "I want out of it. I've wanted out for years, but what can I do? Life after porn is hard enough for anyone, but I have notoriety. I can't just go to a fucking Walmart or a Costco and ask for an application."

"I should have saved the money from my heydays and got a fuckin' degree in something. Instead I'm an aging pornstar with a foul mouth and no options left. I was kind of hoping you had some kind of job for me, something I can do. If I could make what the big-titty asian girl makes, then I can escape the machine, ya know?"

"Kimberly," I commented distractedly, trying to think.

"Uh, what?"

"The Japanese girl with the large breasts, her name is Kimberly."

"Right, Kimberly. I'm real fuckin' bad with names," she confessed.

I couldn't look her in the eyes. "There is one job that I haven't been able to fill."

Bridgette Jorg's face lit up with hope. "What's that?"

My eyes darted everywhere but at her, as I blindly cut my steak. "It's, uh, the job title is 'Special Inventory Manager'."

She eased her plate out of her way to lean way over the table. "I'm listening."

I wiped my hands on the cloth napkin and set it aside. "Okay, hypothetically, let's say that there's this teenager who gets wheeled in, and he's missing both of his arms and both of his legs. It doesn't matter how, they're gone, right?"

"But what's left of him is skinny. His mom is tiny, and there's no one else. I need like eighty pounds from somebody to make him right again."

"So we need someone to donate that body mass, but there isn't anyone coming in to lose that much weight for six more weeks. I've got to tell this kid that unless he's got a fat friend who will give him eighty of his pounds, he's got to wait. Even then, the person coming in six weeks from then might not want to donate directly to him."

"But here's the rub; let's say that two days earlier, I made three hundred pounds of a person into hair, cut it off, and sent it out to get made into wigs. Gone forever. If there had been someone to hold that weight for me, then that teenage boy would have walked out of the shop instead of being wheeled out."

Bridgette ran her finger around the lip of her water glass. "So that's what I'd do? I'd hold onto extra weight for you?"

"In a nutshell, yes. Your job would be, well... to be fat. Like a bank account for body mass. When I have someone's weight to give you, you store it in your body for me, up to a point. When I need to rebuild limbs, or make someone's breasts larger, or whatever, I take that body mass back out of you. When I don't need any of that, you'd be in charge of regular inventory, making sure we have all the supplies we need stocked, like the clothing we give out."

"So what you're telling me is that I'd get paid to be fat and shop?"

I shook my head, "I don't think you're grasping this. Your weight would constantly be changing. You'd have to weigh yourself all of the time so we'd know how much body mass we have on hand. One day you might be a hundred and thirty pounds, and the next you might be over four hundred."

Bridgette stared into my eyes with the fervent stare of a zealot. "I could finally quit my fucking diet. I could have ice cream again... I could have chocolate!"

That derailed me. "You don't eat chocolate? Kimberly swears by it when she's on her period." I immediately slapped my hand over my mouth. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I said that."

Bridgette gave me an uncomfortable smile, "It's okay. I, uh, I don't have to worry about that. Had a hysterectomy a couple of years back."

I dropped my hand from my mouth and frowned worriedly. "That wasn't in your file."

She looked at my expression and became concerned herself. "Is that a problem?"

"I, uh, my power. I shape the surface area, but it travels deeper. Unless I'm specifically focusing, all by itself my power sets whatever is inside to working order. You're going to want a doctor to check, but... I'm pretty sure I un-hysterectomy-ed you."

Bridgette Jorg blinked at me in shock as my words settled in, and then she lunged across the table to plant a hard, brief kiss to my lips.

She sat back down heavily and slapped her hands over her eyes. "I'm so sorry about that. Please hire me anyway?"

I was stunned from more than just the kiss. "You... you actually want the job?"

She nodded, not removing her palms from her eyes. "Yes I do. I'll be making about what, uh, Kimmy makes?"

"Kimberly," I gently corrected. "And you'd actually be making more. There's a little more an hour due to hardship, and a weekly clothing stipend on account of your body changing shape so often."

She finally removed her hands from her eyes. "So... how often do you want your kickbacks? Twice a week? Three times?"

"You're going to have to help me out here. Kickbacks?" Today wasn't the day that I didn't feel lost talking to a woman.

She gave me a dead-eyed stare and crossed her arms. "How often are we going to fuck so I can keep my job?"

I clenched my eyes tightly for a second. "Uh, we're not. No one has to have sex with anyone else to work for Magic Hands. But, that reminds me of a couple of things I should warn you about."

"I touch people all day long. Because of that, I'm a little tactile now. I throw around hugs, and shoulder grips, and... I touch. It's all innocent, and if it bothers you, just let me know and I'll do my best to restrain myself. Then there's Pixie."

Bridgette slowly relaxed out of her defensive pose. "You keep mentioning this 'Pixie'."

I nodded, "She's my partner. Agnes Brooks. Everyone calls her Pixie, and once you've met her, you'll understand why. Here's the thing, Pixie is a nymphomaniac. Clinically diagnosed with hypersexuality. She's going to flirt, and make passes, and she just can't help herself. She does understand that no means no, and she does not lord her position over anyone for sexual favors. If you can tolerate all of that, then... welcome aboard."

"I have just one question left," she told me with an unreadable face. "Why the fuck am I still eating half of a salad?"

I chuckled, noticing the way she was eyeballing what was left of my steak and potatoes. A small, entertained smirk crept up the side of my mouth, and I nudged my plate within her reach.

Bridgette fell on that plate like a starving woman, eating so fast that she was splattering steak juices all around her mouth.

"I take it you want dessert?"

She held up two fingers emphatically, not bothering to stop chewing.

When she'd finished the plate by mopping up the bottom with a bread roll, she gave me a considering look. "You were tempted over the kickback thing, I saw it for just a second."

I leaned back in my chair, not full but pleasantly satisfied. "Sure, for a second. I did tell you that your work got me through many a lonely night, right?"

Her mouth stretched into a sly smile. "That's right! You used to jack off to me," she teased.

I blinked, and fired back without thinking about it. "Right up until you made me touch your giant dong!"

"I'll, uh, I'll just give you a minute before I ask about dessert."

I looked up at Josie the waitress as she quickly walked away, before snapping my eyes back to Bridgette. Josie heard all of that.

Bridgette took one look at my mortified face and started snorting uncontrollably. Like she was still five years old, she squealed, "You said DONG!" and burst into peals of laughter.

I sank low in my chair and covered my face with my hands. How was I ever going to show my face at this restaurant again?

******

When Captain Hernandez opened my door for me, I got out of the Lexus, and Winter and Kimberly got out of the front seats, making a bee-line for the house.

"Have a good weekend, Sir."

"You too, Captain. I'll see you Monday morning?"

He paused for a second. "Carlos, Sir."

"I'm sorry?"

"My name, Sir. It's Carlos. None of the unit still have ranks. We were all discharged."

"Oh. I was trying to be respectful, sorry about that. Um, my name is Jeff," I offered.

"You are going to be called 'Sir' by the unit, Sir. I apologize, but that's not a habit any of us can break, especially not after dropping miracles in our laps."

"I, uh... well crap." I didn't want to be 'Sir' or 'Mr. Marks'. I wanted the people who worked with me to call me 'Jeff'.

"Sorry again, Sir. While I have your attention, I'd like to request a favor."

"Sure! What do you need?"

He shifted almost imperceptibly. "I have my boy next weekend. He wears glasses, and I was wondering..."

"Absolutely. Bring him by the house whenever you like, Carlos. If you come during a meal time, Summer is an outstanding cook. Just, uh, call first, okay?" The last thing I wanted was for him to bring his son through my front door and find four people in a couch orgy. It wouldn't be the first time an orgy happened there.

"Summ- The sister Winter mentioned?"

"The same. You met her at the VA, with Winter, remember?"

Carlos frowned, "I didn't realize they were sisters. Thought my eyes were playing tricks on me... I didn't know it was possible to have identical twins of different races."

I shrugged, "It's barely possible, if both parents are biracial, but..." I held my hands up and wiggled my fingers briefly. "Summer and Winter are sisters by choice."

"Ah. I understand, Sir."

"I should get inside, thanks for everything."

Carlos nodded. "Thank you, Sir. Enjoy your evening."

I watched him get into his vehicle and leave, and just as I was about to head inside, Pixie's SUV pulled into the driveway followed by a sporty convertible.

I stared dumbfounded as Pixie hopped down from her vehicle and Bridgette exited the convertible with a small overnight bag in her grip.

Pixie strolled up to me, surreptitiously sliding her hand around the inside of my left thigh and giving my cock a squeeze as she passed.

"Uh, Bridgette?"

"Hey, Handsome," she smiled at me a little uncomfortably. "Pixie offered me a bed to crash in while I look for a place nearby."

Well... it was Pixie's house.

"Okay," I shrugged. "Need any help?"

"Not really, no. All I've got is this," she lifted her bag briefly. "If you could show me to my room, though, I'll love you forever."

I gestured for her to follow me inside. "I actually don't know which room to bring you to. This is a surprise to me, I had no idea you were staying here until literally just now."

Bridgette frowned at me. "Is this going to be a problem?"

"No. No! Just, things here are a little..." What's the word I'm looking for? "A little hedonistic. I really, really don't want to make you uncomfortable."

She raised a wary eyebrow, "How hedonistic are we talking here?"

"Uh, I told you that Pixie's a nympho, right? She's like, the Great Enabler. Then there's Kimberly and the twins. They're a little grateful to me, and they show that gratitude, often."

"Okay. I can deal. Stay away from the nightly orgies, check."

I led her into the kitchen, where the glorious smells of Summer's dinner preparations were making my stomach try to eat itself.

"No, nothing like that. Well... not nightly, anyway. Just, there's a lot of affection thrown around, okay?"

Bridgette stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, her gaze shifting between Summer and Winter, then Kimberly and Pixie. "Fuck. I'm not sure if I've ever walked into a room full of women and felt like the ugly one before."

The other women laughed, not unkindly, and Pixie popped to her feet to take Bridgette's hand. "Oh, Bridgette, child," she sympathized. "In this house, given what Jeffery can do... Natural flaws make you more attractive, not less."

Bridgette's eyebrows raised. "Child?"

Pixie gave an adorable mischievous smile, her nose crinkling up. "I'm ninety-two years old. I get to call you 'child' if I want to."

"Fuck you, no," she disbelieved.

Pixie did a little pirouette, hands above her head. "Not bad for almost a century, right?"

"Holy fuck," Bridgette blinked in shock.

I had thought that Pixie might be offended by Bridgette's language, but judging by her face, Pixie considered it a breath of fresh air. Maybe even charming.

I left them, walking over to Summer as she was finishing making supper, and hugging her from behind. Summer leaned back in my embrace and pressed her big soft butt into my crotch.

I got to see Pixie and Kimberly here and there at work, and Winter drove me everywhere, but I didn't get to see Summer from the time we left for work until the time we came home. I missed her during the day.

I buried my face into the side of her long, dark neck, breathing in her scent. "Hey. Missed you."

Summer grasped my arms that were around her waist and gave me a persistent grip. "I missed you too, Master," she whispered out of preference for our guest. "Cuddles after supper?"

I gave her a quick, tight squeeze and kissed her neck, making her coo. "I'd really like that. Just, we have a guest. Keep your clothes on."

She turned her head to look at me, giving me big emerald puppy dog eyes. "Bra and panties?" she tried to compromise.

I reluctantly backed away from the curvy woman. "Mmm. Maybe. We'll have to see what makes her uncomfortable. Maybe a swimsuit?"

Summer's grin became sly. "You haven't seen me and my sister in our swimwear yet, Master. The bikinis are tiny."

I tried to surreptitiously adjust my package as it stirred. "That... we don't really need to eat, do we?"

Summer laughed and gave me a nudge to go sit at the table. "We're eating in less than ten. Go, sit and relax."

I wandered back to the table, noticing the absence of Kimberly and Bridgette. This was probably the only time I had to find out just what the hell was going on.

I sat across from Pixie, and Winter moved from her seat to sit next to me, scooting her chair close and leaning under my arm. I slung my arm around her back and beneath her arm, fondling the side of her big breast on autopilot. The habit was already ingrained.

"Pixie? I know this is your house and everything, but... is it really a good idea to have Bridgette stay here? What made you offer this?"

Pixie looked at me seriously, with all the maturity of her actual years shining through the early-twenties face she had. "This is my house," she agreed. "But, in seventeen days we close on the new house and that's owned by the two of us, paid out of our company's liquid equity. When we move in, once the contractors are done remodeling, you'll own eighty percent of our new place. As for why I brought Bridgette home with me, well... that's your fault, Jeffery."

I froze. "Come again?"

Pixie tilted her head, looking at me from a different angle. "Let's do some remembering, Jeffery. Way back when, this homeless kid came in after hours. You talked to her for five minutes and offered her a room and a job, remember? When I asked you why, you said you had a feeling in your gut."

I nodded. I vividly remembered meeting Kimberly.

"Before that even happened, mere hours after you discovered your power, you came to see me. Out of all the people in the world, your mind fell on the blind, crippled old lady who hit on you constantly. Not once did it ever occur to you that you couldn't trust me, not once did you ever think I would take advantage of your gift or be less than scrupulous running your business. That was your gut feeling, too. I'm positive of it."

"Kimberly and I, we ambushed you with the twins. You were so against it, but heard them out anyway. You talked to them for five minutes, and pulled a complete one eighty. When they came back, two weeks later, you handed your car keys off to Winter without a second thought. You, who doesn't trust anybody. You had a feeling in your gut then too, didn't you?"

I glanced down at Winter, tucked into my side as she looked up at me with a nearly devastated expression. I guess no one ever told her how close their new lives were to never happening.

"I... I suppose I did," I admitted.

Pixie nodded like she knew this all along. "You never really trusted our old security contractors, but the new guys, the 'Unit'? Carlos tells you he's your bodyguard, out of the blue, and you just accept it. Gut feeling again, I'll bet."

My mouth started to fall open.

"You took Janice to lunch, so long ago, and hired her and her friends on the spot. And they're the best, most dedicated employees we could have asked for. Up until today, that's the only time you've ever taken anyone to lunch. So tell me, Jeffery... what does your 'Gut Feeling' say about Ms. Jorg?"

I searched my feelings, hard. "I... she's trustworthy. And, maybe something else, but I don't know if that's this 'Gut Feeling' or just because, you know, the whole crush thing."

Pixie nodded sagely. "Mmhm. And that's why I invited her to stay. I'm not sure if you have a really strong instinct for this, or a weak, secondary superability, but until it fails us I'm trusting it. Besides, you weren't really going to make her commute from Pasadena, were you?"

I opened my mouth, but Kimberly and Bridgette came back in the room, with a conspicuous absence of the ex-pornstar's bag. They sat at the table, and Summer started to put plates in front of everyone. The discussion was good and over.

******

I was the first one done eating, starving after giving half of my lunch to Bridgette. I excused myself, and left the kitchen to sit on the couch in front of the television.

I picked up the remote and turned the TV on, then fired up Amazon's streaming service and started looking for something to watch. I didn't have much hope that I'd find anything worthwhile.

Some people hate previews and movie trailers. I'm not one of them. They're like mini-movies with nothing but the good parts to me, and being able to view the trailers was one of the big ways Amazon was superior to Netflix, in my humble opinion.

Anything that remotely caught my interest, I watched the trailer for. And that's how I spent who knows how long, until Bridgette peeked in, a big bowl of strawberry ice cream in her hands.

"Hey. Mind if I eat in here?"

I shook my head, "Not at all, come and sit."

She shuffled over to the recliner by the couch, protectively cradling her bowl lest someone steal it from her. "Thanks. I don't like eating alone and everyone left the kitchen."

I laughed and continued paging through the movie titles while Bridgette savored every bit of her ice cream.

"So, are you actually going to fuckin' pick something to watch?"

I looked over at her, and while she did look a little irritated, she was more teasing me than complaining. Wordlessly, I offered her the remote.

She blinked like I'd just offered her the keys to my kingdom. "Really?"

I laughed and lobbed the remote over to her. "I can never pick anything to watch, not really. Go ahead, knock yourself out. We subscribe to Prime, so all those movies are free, and if you want to rent or buy a digital copy of whatever isn't free, go for it."

I laced my fingers together, resting my hands on my head, and slouched way back into the couch, as it took Bridgette less than three minutes to find a movie she wanted to watch.

Then the twins walked into the room. Summer wasn't lying, the bikinis were miniscule.

Up top, the strings were thread-thin and the triangles of fabric weren't big enough to cover their oversized areolas. On the bottom, the fabric barely came up high enough to cover their pussies, and had they the ability to grow pubic hair they'd have been baring all of it.

They cuddled up on my sides, Summer on my left in her vividly gold bikini, and Winter took up a place on my right in silver.

Two identical pairs of luminescent green and gold eyes gazed up at me, imploring me to start, so I wrapped my arms around them, stroking the acres of bare skin.

The bikinis were so tiny that it was actually worse than had they been completely naked.

I looked over at Bridgette, and she looked really uncomfortable. Just like I was dreading. I stopped petting the twins and tried to apologize.

"I'm sorry, this is weirding you out, isn't it."

Bridgette made an aborted attempt to place her empty bowl on the coffee table, then thought again and set it down. "Well, maybe a little, but not like you think. I might be a little... jealous? I mean, I've had so much sex that I'm fuckin' burnt out, but... I can't remember the last time I just cuddled with a guy without us going straight to the fucking."

The twins glanced at each other, and Winter rose up. She pulled Bridgette to her feet, led her by the hand to the couch, and dropped her into the vacated spot. Then she gathered up Bridgette's bowl and spoon, bringing it into the kitchen.

We looked at each other for a moment, until I shrugged and pulled her close, resuming feeling on Summer but very carefully just holding Bridgette.

After a tense moment, Bridgette relaxed into a boneless state against my side. "This is fuckin' nice," she whispered.

"Tell you a secret? I'm a cuddler. Anytime you want to be held, you just let me know."

"Kay. You smell fucking amazing, did you know that?"

"Uh, I actually didn't. I do?"

"Oh yes. That's half of the reason why we're always up on you," Summer assured me.

"What's the other half?" Bridgette wondered, eyes only half open.

"Mmmm. Me and Winter have really sensitive skin, and when Jeff touches us, it's... orgasmic... and addictive."

Summer calling me by my actual name took me by surprise. I really expected to have to try and explain to our houseguest why the twins were calling me 'Master'.

Bridgette nodded, accepting it as fact, and she didn't say a word when Winter came back in the room and cuddled up against her sister's back to share in the touching.

Before the movie had ended, I had two panting sisters in micro-bikinis quietly orgasming on one side of me, and one beautiful, older ex-pornstar that I'd fantasized about for years and years on the other, softly snoring in relaxed sleep.

How was this my life now?

******

Kimberly held my hands down, above my head, while she bucked her delicious pussy against my mouth and questing tongue, her slightly long and conical giant breasts swaying back and forth to slap against her torso with repeated, heavy sounding slaps.

Pixie was bouncing on my cock as much as she could, her short legs only giving her so much range of motion as she straddled me. Judging by just how much pussy juice she was leaking all over my pelvis, it was enough movement to really get her going.

The twins, not wanting to be left out of the orgy but having all of the good spots occupied, each straddled one of my legs. They humped their clits against my knees and slid their big soft asses against my thighs.

It was Kimberly who had started it, using her enhanced strength to hold me down effectively, not that I was all that bothered. The others jumped on the opportunity afterward.

Given Pixie's lack of complaining, I was suspecting that Kimberly made sure to invite her to the orgy this time.

Kimberly's grinding became erratic, and then she froze and shuddered, cumming into my mouth. I looked up past her hanging tits and her eyes were rolled into the back of her head, only the whites showing in the black-lined, almond-shaped borders.

The twins? The twins were leaking and cumming so constantly from the rubbing on me that there wasn't any friction left there at all. They slid and bucked over my skin like they were straddling slip-n-slides.

I liked to touch. I don't know if my power took the form it did because of that, or if my power caused me to love tactile contact. I don't think I'd ever really know for sure which was cause and which was effect.

After only a few minutes, having my hands restrained into uselessness while there was all of this amazing female flesh on me was torture. Delicious, erotic, wonderful torture, but still... torturous. I mean, there were Kimberly's huge breasts, maybe a foot away from my face. Pixie's tight, tiny body was on my dick, bouncing away, and Summer and Winter's big, smooth, perfectly curved butts were on my thighs.

It was all in range of my hands, but I couldn't use them. Instead I laid there, my only participation being to lick at Kimberly's gash.

I started to squirm, trying to thrust back up into Pixie. In response, the twins clamped their legs around mine and bore down, using their weight to keep me immobile. Two pairs of long fingered hands wrapped around my ankles as they fought to keep me in place to keep grinding on me. They were my height, with big breasts, butts, and thighs. They were not hundred pound dainty girls at all, and succeeded in locking my legs down tight.

I wasn't getting off. It felt good, great even, but I'd somehow plateaued. Pixie was taking full advantage of that, cumming over and over around my perpetually hard cock, until with one boneless, seizured orgasm, she tapped out.

Pixie dismounted me, and must have signaled Kimberly, because the busty asian finally let go of my wrists to scoot down my body and impale herself on my erection.

Pixie laid down next to me, raising her head over my face to kiss me, aggressive and affectionate and enjoying the taste of Kimberly on my lips as much as I did.

I finally had my hands free. One went to Kimberly's tiny waist, grasping the flexing muscles there as she oscillated her hips around, and with the other I clutched at Pixie's little body, eventually settling on wrapping a hand around her skinny thigh and holding on tight.

Pixie pulled back, stroking my scalp with her fingernails. "You need to cum, Jeffery. We've got an early morning tomorrow."

"I'm stuck," I admitted. "What... what's going on tomorrow?"

"We're going to Pasadena to help Bridgette pack up her place. We need sleep, Jeffery."

"Wait, we're going to Pasadena?"

"We are, you're not. Carlos would kill us if we took you out of town without him. Don't worry, Callie is coming by to keep you company."

I abandoned touching Pixie, sinking the fingers of both of my hands into Kimberly's enormous tits as she swiveled. "You got me a sitter?"

Pixie giggled, shaking her head. "No, not in the slightest. Callie wanted some one on one time with you, that's all."

"I... alright. Hey, Summer, Winter? I need a little extra help here," I beckoned. "Come up here, please?"

With the twins burying my face in their big, soft double-Gs and cooing over my fondling of their big, soft ass cheeks, I finally, finally was able to cum. I strained, pressing upward into Kimberly's pussy as I came and came.

I was exhausted after that. I was covered in patches of pussy juice that were getting more sticky by the second, but I couldn't bring myself to get up and get clean.

Summer scooted into my side, laying half on me and giving me a loving kiss to my chest. Winter spooned behind her, resting a slim ivory hand just beneath her sister's identical ebony one on my abs.

Pixie scooted up on my other side but lower, face to nipple with Summer's incredibly dark breast. Kimberly spooned behind her, smashing her enormous tits into Pixie's neck as she got as close as possible. Pixie made a really happy noise over that.

As I fell asleep, the only thought I had was that they must have talked about sleeping arrangements without me.

Plotters. I lived with plotters.

******

I woke up alone. Somehow the women had gotten themselves awake without an alarm and let me sleep in. It was... well, it was thoughtful, but I wanted to see them before they left.

For the first time since the twins had given themselves to me, I showered by myself. Winter's shaving of my face in the shower was a good idea. The hair was soft from the heat and water, and it was less tortuous to scrape my face with the razor in the shower than out.

I made a second swipe with the razor, and froze.

Jeff, you are an IDIOT, I lambasted myself.

I had fucking superpowers that dealt with bodies, and I was still shaving my face with a razor like a baseline. If Winter didn't drive me to work, I ought to have been taking the short bus there.

I ran my hand over my face, concentrating on visualizing myself with no hair follicles at all. The stubble vanished, never to return. I would never have to deal with razor burn ever again.

After a moment of thought, I got rid of the hair on my butt, too. While I didn't mind my chest hair, or my pubic or leg hair, the butt hair bothered me. How did I not ever think of this?

I'd have to ask the girls if they'd want me to be hairless in more places. If they wanted me with a smooth chest and bare dick, I'd do that for them. If they wanted me to keep it, that was fine, too.

Cleaned of the prior night's excursions, I toweled myself off and looked in the bathroom mirror. Who knew that dried pussy juice was actually a little itchy?

I gave myself a tune-up. I did not watch what I ate or exercise at all, and my muscle definition had faded a bit. As I ran my hands over myself, bringing my body back to the chiseled definition I preferred, I smiled at myself ruefully. "You are a big fat cheater, Jeff Marks," I told my reflection.

That was another thing I was going to have to bring up to the girls. Just let them know that they could ask for tune-ups whenever they liked. It's not like touching their bodies was awful for me.

Better than new, I dressed myself for a day of lounging around. No choking tie today, thank you very much.

I made myself a quick breakfast of the prior night's leftovers, and settled in to veg.

I was barely paying attention to the anime I'd settled on when Callie let herself into the house, smiling at me. The voluptuous redhead swayed close, and I stood to hug her hello. "Hey, it's been awhile," I greeted her.

"It has," she agreed, kissing me on the cheek.

Callie looked at me with her beautiful face, so reminiscent of Pixie, and she seemed like she wanted to say something.

Instead, her eyes traveled down my body to my feet, then back up, and whatever that was vanished. "Come on," she beckoned, tugging on my hand to follow her. "I've got an itch I need you to scratch."

I happily let Callie lead me away from the television, through the house, and to my bedroom. She kissed me lustily, her nimble fingers making quick work of her blouse's buttons, before shrugging her top off and getting to work on her bra.

I helped not at all, finding her bared skin to be a lot more fun than helping her to bare more. When her cleavage was bared, I licked the very top of that crevice, tasting her faintly pink-tinted skin. When the bra came off, I went after her sensitive nipples, and Callie lost all interest in continuing to undress.

I made her orgasm by sucking on her nipple, gave her a second to reach for her skirt's zipper, and went after her other nipple. I was fighting my naughty smirk just to keep a seal around her very hard nub.

Once I'd made her cum again, Callie gave me a tremendous shove, toppling me backwards onto the bed. Going after her skirt again, she warned me, "If you want to save those pants, you'd better get that dick out."

I chuckled, and quickly divested myself of all of my clothing. While I doubt she could have ripped my pants apart with her bare hands, the warning was clear. There wasn't a lot of patience in Callie just then.

Callie fell on me like a woman possessed, taking my entire length into her incredibly wet tunnel in one fast motion, before falling forward and shoving one her big breasts onto my face.

I could take a hint. I licked and suckled at her teat, but gently, unlike before. I didn't want to use the cheat codes to make her cum again.

I explored her wide, soft hips and thighs with my hands, grasping her smooth, plump ass and holding on as she drove herself back and forwards with everything she had. It was almost feral.

Her red hair, hanging down in long, loose curls, was everywhere. She seemed to have no desire to do anything about it, so I reluctantly quit feeling on her body, gathering all of that thick hair and holding it up. I found myself with my hands full of her hair at the nape of her neck, staring into her intense blue eyes as she thoroughly fucked herself with my cock.

I had one big breast kind of held in place with my mouth, but the other was a wild pendulum, heavily slapping me in the side of my face with every thrust the curvy lawyer made.

Her frantic, needy pace made me approach my orgasm quickly. It was surprising, especially after the last night when I was stalled for so long. Maybe it had something to do with her aggression, or maybe it was just because it was Callie.

I stopped sucking on her nipple. "Ca-Callie," I stuttered, the air nearly driven from me. "If you don't ease up, I'm going to cum."

Callie leaned her head down, not slowing her pace at all. Her lip curled into a snarl. "Cum in me, Jeff. Do it!"

My eyes clenched tight of their own accord. My jaw clenched, and the pressure in my groin became impossible to hold back a moment longer.

I gripped her hips and slammed her down, simultaneously shoving every millimeter of my length as deep inside of her as I could. It felt like my cock was about to tear along the seam with how powerful that orgasm was.

Once I started to cum into her, Callie sat herself upright, clenched her fingers deep into her tits, and threw her head back to scream.

Once we'd both come down, we just kind of didn't move. My hands still gripped her soft hips. Her hands were still dug deep into her breast flesh. Her head was still tilted upright, lungs heaving as she recovered from all of that exertion.

Eventually, Callie stopped staring at the ceiling, unclenching her hands and leaving behind dark red marks in her skin where she'd abused herself. She gingerly raised up, easing my length out of her until it flopped down to my stomach.

She laid next to me, and the happy, satisfied look I was expecting was nowhere to be found. Instead, she looked... sad.

"Uh-oh," I muttered.

She tried to smile. "As far as last times go, I couldn't have asked for better."

My heart sank. "Last times?" I parroted dumbly.

She rubbed my chest soothingly. "I can't keep doing this with you, Jeff. For a lot of really good reasons."

I couldn't look at her, and turned my gaze to the ceiling. "I'm listening."

Callie rested her head next to mine on the pillow. "First, you're my client, Jeff. There's a whole slew of ethical problems with us doing this. I've tried to stay away, but I keep coming back to you."

I turned to look at her, the ceiling holding zero answers. "Ethical problems?"

Her eyes pleaded with me to understand. "I could be disbarred for sleeping with you. If anyone found out, I'd be brought before the ethics committee. No matter how magical you are, I can't throw my career away over you. Then there's your harem."

"They're not my harem," I gritted out.

"Jeff," she patronized me, "they're your harem. I need to be someone's one and only, not someone's one of many. Even without the ethics thing, I can't share my man. It's not in me."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Have I really been so selfish?"

"No, Sweetie, no. There's not a straight man on this Earth who could turn down the beauties you have in this house, and you keep adding more. Grandma tells me you've taken in a pornstar?"

I huffed, trying to find the humor. I'm sure someday I'd see it. "Ex adult film actress. And she's just staying here while she looks for her own place."

"Sure she is. Just like Kimberly was only staying here until she found her own place." Callie was amused and not upset about it, thankfully. "I do need one last favor from you, Jeff."

"Anything," I promised.

Callie looked more than uncomfortable, and a little scared. "I need you to make me the right size again, down there."

Wordlessly, I shaped her vagina to be back to a normal size, rather than the modified-for-my-use size she'd been carrying for so long. "You've found someone, haven't you," I guessed.

Callie nodded, and sniffed wetly. "Yeah. Another lawyer. We've been seeing each other here and there."

I nodded, carefully keeping my expression blank. "He's a good guy, right? He likes you for more than just how you look?"

"So far, yes. He is a lawyer, though. We're all a little shifty," she tried to joke.

"Well, feel free to tell him that there's this one rich guy who considers you one of his best friends, and that this same rich guy will cheerfully make the rest of his life miserable if he mistreats you."

With that said, I got the last naked hug from Callista Brooks I would ever get.

I managed to keep it together until Callie had shut the front door as she was leaving before the first teardrop fell, followed by another. I felt like I just lost something precious, and it was all my fault. In that moment, I was very sure that what I did to Chuck, Al, and Weasel was the driving force behind her decision, though she kindly didn't mention it.

Huh. So this is what a broken heart feels like.