The Endkiller (Worm)

A/N: The Endkiller was a commissioned piece written in two parts from July-August of 2019. Posting it up now as a one-shot for people to enjoy!

Themes: Dom/Sub, F/F, BDSM

-x-X-x-

The world was a fucked-up place. To be honest, that was probably true even before the advent of Scion and superpowers and the Endbringers. But people suddenly having the ability to lift cars and demolish buildings with their bare hands certainly didn't fucking help. She supposed she wasn't supposed to complain… after all, she was one of those people with power, one of those people who had a really bad day and came out the other side with the ability to call space her bitch.

Letting out a low sigh, Missy stops the car a few hundred feet from the edge of Taylor's territory and turns it off, unbuckling her seatbelt, opening the door, and slowly getting out. Missy Biron… better known as Vista, formerly of the Wards, now of the Protectorate. She'd basically been a professional superhero for almost half of her life at this point, now that she was twenty years old.

… It felt like decades, most of the time. Pressing her lips together thinly, Vista begins to walk towards Taylor's territory, taking the long way around when it came to crossing the few hundred feet between her and that not-so-imaginary line. Oh sure, she could have folded space and been at the edge of the other parahuman's holdings in an instant if she'd wanted to… but the truth was, she really didn't want to.

Luckily, she had an excuse when an annoying voice crackled into existence in her ear.

"Vista, what's the hold up? Get in there!"

Stopping dead in her tracks, Missy pauses for a moment, before letting out a small sigh and responding.

"I'm not going to be the idiot that uses powers on the edge of HER territory. We all know how that goes. Also, we know she's just going to destroy this comm device anyways, so I might as well take it out now. If I don't come back out, I expect my pension to go to my parents."

"What?! Vista, don't you da-!"

But she's already removed the earbud, and if she just so happens to step on it as she drops it to the ground and begins walking forward again… well, accidents happen. No longer having Director Tagg's voice in her ear is almost certainly a sweet relief for the twenty-year-old parahuman. Piggot might not have liked capes, she might have even hated every last one of them, even those that worked under her command, but at least she knew to show them basic respect.

In comparison, Tagg was a blight on the earth that Vista hated with every fiber of her being. Part of her almost hoped that Taylor would end it for her today, if only so that she didn't have to deal with the PRT Director any longer. But no, the likelier case was that she would live and just end up humiliated in some way. That was how Taylor preferred to play with the PRT and the Protectorate if they tried anything in her territory.

A slight wan smile spreads across Vista's face as she makes her way ever closer to the red line painted into the ground on the street in front of her. Taylor Hebert. And to think, they'd not known anything about the young woman at first. Now… now everyone in Brockton Bay and much of the Eastern Seaboard knew Taylor Hebert's name.

It was only after the fact, two years after the fact even, that anyone had managed to piece anything together about the female parahuman. At first it seemed like she'd come out of nowhere. That wasn't true though. What was true was that Taylor was just another example of the Protectorate and the PRT not being good enough. Her mother had been in a car accident that could be generously called 'collateral damage' for a parahuman battle between an independent hero and a villain.

That hadn't been enough to cause a young Taylor Hebert to trigger though, oh no. Her trigger was apparently reserved for when her father died only a few years later, also killed in the middle of a parahuman fight. This time between the Protectorate and Lung. From what the PRT had been able to find out, after that Taylor had disappeared for a time. Obviously, she hadn't actually disappeared, but there was no record of her for a few months.

But then she'd shown up, her first recorded sighting… and she'd killed Leviathan. Yep, Taylor Hebert was the Endkiller. Not that anyone called her that. No, oddly enough, Taylor didn't really have a cape name. Oh, they had all sorts of ideas for her over on PHO, and she had a veritable litany of titles if you asked just about anyone who knew of her. But Taylor refused to go by any particular cape name, and after killing Leviathan, she kind of had that option.

The PRT certainly wasn't going to poke the Endkiller just because she didn't want a secret identity, so in all official documentation, she was Taylor Hebert, full out. Of course, after the death of Leviathan, Taylor wasn't done. It seemed that she'd had enough of hiding, because once the Endbringer was slain and Brockton Bay was saved, not by the Triumvirate but a single young woman wearing a t-shirt and some jeans… well, that single young woman had decided to make her home a better place. At least, a part of it.

The most damaged, ruined part of Brockton Bay became Taylor's initial territory. She'd declared it and anyone who chose to live within it under her protection, and more importantly, her laws. Of course, people flocked to her. Even with how ruined the area was, everyone wanted to be able to rub elbows with the Endkiller. Those with poor intentions quickly found out that they'd thought wrong if they thought they could manipulate her though. Those with evil in their hearts didn't last long at all.

In the wake of Taylor's actions, the old power structure of Brockton Bay was irrevocably shaken. And of course, there were challengers. Lung, to start with. The 'Dragon of Kyushu' had to make a move though, even Vista could understand that. After all, before Taylor, HE was the one who had fought Leviathan longest and come out the other side intact. It was considered a feat of his, that he even SURVIVED the sinking of Kyushu.

But then Taylor came along and turned his feat into something that looked more like cowardice and failure. Conflict between her and Lung was inevitable, especially when her territory carved out a nice swathe of ABB territory, even if it was entirely wrecked. The Endkiller and the Dragon fought, and the Dragon even brought a bomb tinker and his teleporting suicide bomber with him.

Taylor won. She won against the combined might of the ABB just as she won against Leviathan, and when she was finished, Oni Lee was the only survivor. Last Vista had heard, the suicide bomber wasn't even functional anymore as a human being. Something about his power slowly stripping him of all personality, and the deaths of Lung and that bomb tinker Bakuda resulting in him going completely catatonic, as he didn't know who else to take orders from and couldn't think for himself anymore.

The Empire had been next to make an attempt. After all, the ABB were destroyed, Coil and his mercenaries had completely disappeared from the city after Leviathan's death, and the Merchants were… well, the Merchants. Kaiser had obviously thought that if he took Taylor down, the Empire would own Brockton Bay… and if it'd been possible, they probably could have.

These days, the remnants of the Eighty-Eight had found refuge with Gesellschaft over in Europe. Taylor had effectively kicked them right off of her continent. Before that, the Protectorate had made some attempts, both diplomatic and more aggressive, to try and rein Taylor Hebert in. After that? After she finished cleaning up most of their city and dealt with the two gangs that had been penning the Protectorate in for years… orders came down from on high to leave the Endkiller the fuck alone.

But orders from on high didn't really matter to the Slaughterhouse Nine, not really. And now that that merry band of killers was in Brockton Bay, fucking around all over the city but for some reason completely bypassing Taylor's territory… well, the PRT wanted to know why. And on Director Tagg's orders, Vista was sent in to find out.

She comes up to the red line and doesn't hesitate beyond a sharp inhale of air as she steps right over. The next thing Vista knows, she's no longer on the street, but suddenly in a room in some building, who knows how far away. It's not like her power, it's not a compression of space… she was teleported. She knows that much.

And before her, standing there, staring at her with her hands clasped behind her back, is one Taylor Hebert.

"Hello again Vista. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

Vista swallows hard as she stares at the other young woman. Taylor is by no means conventionally beautiful… but she's all height and sharp edges and severity in a way that sets Vista's heart aflutter all the same. Yes, Missy Biron has a bit of a cape crush on the one parahuman who refuses to be a cape. What that says about her, she doesn't know.

"I… the Protectorate has sent me to ask for your help… and to ask just how it is you've managed to avoid attracting the attention of the Slaughterhouse Nine. They've been spotted making trouble all over the city… except for within the area that you've labeled as your own. We… we need to know how… and if you might help us deal with them, once and for all."

Taylor hums for a moment, before nodding.

"I see. I suppose I'll answer your question with another question. What makes you think that they haven't made trouble in my territory?"

Blinking dumbly, Vista glances around for a moment. The room is relatively bare, though it's obviously an office from the desk and computer sitting on it. Still, it's a very spartan set up.

"Because… there have been no incidents reported?"

Smirking slightly, Taylor cocks her head to the side, and then gestures sharply. They both warp, and a second later, they're standing in another room in the same building. Vista knows that it's the same building, because that WASN'T a teleport… that was her own power, which Taylor had just made her use with a simple jerk of her hand.

Vista ignores the racing of her heart and focuses instead on the macabre sight in the room. Her eyes go wide behind her mask as she stares at the decapitated heads of several people. Honestly, she wouldn't recognize them by just their heads if it wasn't for a couple of distinguishing things. For one, one of the heads was distinctly robotic. Mannequin. Another was truly monstrous, and something that Vista had seen in briefings just days before, the stuff of her recent nightmares. Crawler.

Looking closely, she recognized the final head, a woman's head. Cherish, the newest member of the Nine. She looked… surprised, in her state of bodiless death.

"Like I said, what makes you think they haven't made trouble for me? Such a pain, dealing with such… irritations. But the others learned their lesson and have stayed away since, so I haven't bothered with them."

Taylor sounded almost casual in the way she spoke. And yet… there was something else there as well. Vista swallows, but before she can speak, they're back in Taylor's office.

"What do you want from me, Vista?"

Seizing her opportunity, the heroine whirls on the barefaced parahuman.

"I-I want you to help us! I want you to kill the rest of the Nine. Slaughter them, like they've slaughtered so many others… don't let them leave the city alive, end them now so they can never hurt another person."

Taylor stares for a second, before smiling.

"Are you willing to pay the price?"

"Yes! Anything!"

She answers immediately, knowing that it doesn't matter what Taylor wants, so long as it's within her power, Vista will pay it.

"You. I want you."

Those words though… her knees very nearly give out on her right then and there as she stares at Taylor, slack jawed.

"M-Me?"

She hates how hopeful she sounds, even as Taylor's smile widens further and she nods. The taller woman steps forward, and suddenly Vista is being forced to look up into her eyes as Taylor invades her personal space and grabs a fistful of her hair, tugging it back and tilting her head back at the same time.

"Yes. You. I want you to stay with me, from now on. I want you to be mine. In exchange, I will kill the rest of the Nine right here, right now."

Her mouth is dry. Her throat clenches up. But in the end, what was she going to say? No?

-x-X-x-

"I stand here before you today to tell you all, that the Slaughterhouse Nine are unequivocally dead. Thanks to the hard work of our PRT Officers and our Protectorate Heroes, and the brave sacrifice of one heroine in particular, the monsters that have long plagued this country have been permanently dispatched."

As Taylor watches the news broadcast of the planned speech by one Director Tagg of the PRT, she snorts derisively, considering whether or not to set the record straight. It definitely wasn't anything the PRT or the Protectorate had done that had seen the Slaughterhouse dead. They hadn't managed to kill a single member of the Nine. Every last one of those monsters had died at HER hands… or at least from her powers.

The closest thing to truth that the Director had said had to do with the 'brave sacrifice of one heroine in particular'.

Grinning wickedly and letting out a soft exhale to let her know she was doing a good job, Taylor looks down for a moment, making eye contact with one Missy Biron as the young woman continues to eat her out most enthusiastically, her tongue lashing in all the right places along the inside of Taylor's cunt. No longer wearing her costume, no longer wearing anything at all save for a collar and the leash attached to it… Missy had never looked happier.

Coming to a decision, even as she cums all over Missy's face, Taylor decides she'll let the PRT have this one. They can claim they dealt with the Nine on their own all they want. She doesn't really need the money from the bounties, and they'll always know exactly who truly took care of those monsters for them. Just like they'll always know what they had to give up in order to secure her help.

That would be enough, in Taylor's opinion. Just… perfect.

-x-X-x-

Missy moans through the ball gag in her mouth, squirming a bit in her bindings. It was funny, really. Taylor had no need for this, not in the physical sense. Perhaps in the sexual sense, sure, but the other woman was so damn strong that the entire world might as well have already been bound and gagged before her might.

And yet, Taylor has still tied Vista up and suspended her from the ceiling. That was where Missy was now, with her arms high over her head, and her legs forcibly bent at the knee and spread wide. The position does an excellent job of showing off every bit of Missy's naked body, the heroine's form not quite voluptuous, but still womanly. She'd certainly matured a lot since joining the Wards as a child, but not enough, in her opinion. Never enough.

With her tits seeming to level out at a simple B-cup and her hips never quite curving as much as she wanted, and her ass always managing to be pert and cute, but never truly voluptuous, Missy Biron had a lot of things to say about the state of her body, and none of them were good. Put frankly, she didn't consider herself that beautiful. Which made it all the stranger, the way Taylor spoke to her.

Moving around her, the taller woman, all sharp edges and piercing stares, smiles as she runs her riding crop across Missy's flesh, among the complex intricate rope bondage that crisscrosses her body.

"Gorgeous… simply gorgeous."

If not for the ball gag, then the female parahuman would feel obligated to say something, to disagree or try to correct Taylor. Instead, all she can do is whimper and shake her head, not truly believing it, not capable of believing it, really. Of course, Taylor doesn't like that. Even as Missy looks down at the ground, the riding crop comes up under her chin and forces her to raise her head and look Taylor in the eye.

Of course, before her gaze gets to Taylor's face, it once again slides over just what the taller girl is wearing. Dominatrix gear, that's really the only way Missy can describe it. From the elbow length gloves, to the thigh-high boots and the leather corset… all of it in pitch black, of course. Taylor cocks an eyebrow at her as their eyes meet, and the corner of her oh-so-kissable mouth quirks up.

"No? You don't think you're gorgeous?"

Missy would be licking her lips right now, if it wasn't for the ball gag. As it is, all she can really do is continue to drool all over herself, and now the end of the riding crop as well. At Taylor's question, Missy just shakes her head again, though she doesn't look away this time. Taylor lets out a sigh and pulls the riding crop back… only to bring it down right across one of Missy's nipples, causing the bound heroine to squeal and shriek through her gag, all while spasming from the blow.

"Well, I do. Are you disagreeing with your Mistress, pet? Are you questioning my authority over you?"

Wide-eyed, Missy shakes her head vehemently at that. She's not, she really isn't. It's just… it's just… but Taylor doesn't give her time to even finish her thought, bringing the riding crop down on her other nipple just as harshly, and derailing Missy's thoughts as the girl sees white for a moment, both pleasure and pain mixing together in such an exquisite manner.

Yes, Missy Biron, also known as Vista of the Protectorate, is a masochist. She's also a submissive. She always has been, though it's not like she goes around telling anyone that. And she's certainly never let her love for pain affect her word as a Ward or as a member of the Protectorate. Besides, there's a big difference between pain delivered by someone you trust in a safe environment, and pain delivered by an asshole villain in the middle of a parahuman battle.

What might have surprised anyone who truly knew Missy was the fact that she saw Taylor and her current circumstances as trustworthy and even safe. As things stood, Missy was enjoying herself in Taylor's care, much to her surprise and pleasure. Taylor, having decided that she'd made her point clear, leans in close, her lips only inches from Missy's nose and the ball gag protruding from her mouth. Their eyes meet again, Missy's wide and Taylor's slitted as the latter speaks and the former listens.

"Good. Because I'm in charge here, my dear. And if I say you're gorgeous, than you're fucking gorgeous. Do you understand?"

Missy nods, and Taylor smiles. It's not necessarily a nice smile. Not even either, but there's a sharpness to it that has Missy shivering in both trepidation… and anticipation. As Taylor pulls the riding crop away and sets it aside completely, Missy shudders at seeing what her new Mistress picks up next. The strap-on easily fits over her Dominatrix gear, and in moments, Taylor has a big fat fake dick strapped to her crotch.

Grabbing Missy by her forced open thighs, the tall woman has no problem whatsoever lining her new cock up with Missy's cunt, and thrusting right in. That's when Missy gets a surprise, because rather than a cool plastic feel like she's expecting, Taylor's 'dick' is hot and throbbing and… surprisingly lifelike. As Taylor starts to fuck her, Missy moans through the ball gag, staring at her Mistress in abject confusion, which in turn causes the other woman to giggle lightly.

"Like it? I got it from Toybox, as it so happens. I was promised it would be special. Let me know if it's not, I'll be sure to demand a refund."

Missy just groans, and eventually she's throwing her head back in ecstasy as Taylor fucks her right into oblivion, pounding away at her cunt, gripping tightly at her thighs, and even leaning in close to slurp and lick at her neck and chin and the ball-gag spreading open her jaw. As Missy loses herself in the pleasure, she can't help thinking that this isn't so bad… in fact, it's a lot better than 'bad'. She could get used to this, really. She could come to love this, actually.

Maybe… maybe just giving in wouldn't be so bad after all. Taylor would take care of her. No… Mistress would take care of her.

-x-X-x-

Two days later, Missy wakes up to a surprising sensation… namely, her limbs are no longer bound to the four corners of the bed by nylons like they had been when she'd fallen asleep, surprisingly comfortable in the bondage situation. Blinking dumbly, Missy slowly sits up, looking around the room in confusion. Said confusion only grows further when she sees her costume draped over a nearby chair, looking professionally cleaned and waiting for her.

Then, Mistress steps into the room and at least Missy knows what to do, quickly getting off of the bed and onto her knees in the presence of her Mistress. Said Mistress takes one look at her and then smiles rather softly, more softly than Missy is used to seeing from her.

"You can get up. You're free to go. I made sure your costume would be ready for you."

For a moment, Missy doesn't understand. Her thoughts about what purpose her old costume could serve stutter to a halt in the midst of a fantasy about Taylor playing at being a villain and Missy playing at being a captured Vista, subject to said villainess' every filthy, depraved whim. But no, that's not the case, as she's just been told. It doesn't make sense that. She… she's not sure what's happening.

"W-What? W-Why?"

As Missy stares up at her Mistress… at Taylor, the other woman blinks, as if surprised that she's even being asked such a thing.

"Uh… well, it was really just a test, to be honest. I was curious to see how far you would go to ensure the rest of the Nine died, and I've kind of had a bit of a crush on you for a while, so I did want to… well, get something out of the transaction."

Then Taylor waves a hand back and forth, looking somewhat sheepish.

"But it's not like I wanted to actually enslave you for life or anything like that. I'm not that kind of person, really. Keeping you here against your will isn't really something I'm about, you know?"

Missy's mouth opens and closes several times over the next half minute or so, but she can't… she can't find the words. Part of her knows what it wants to say, but another part of her doesn't think she should say such things. In the end, the silence grows rather awkward, until eventually Taylor coughs into her hand somewhat delicately, all of that confidence and overwhelming might sort of gone for the moment.

"Right… so… guess this is goodbye. Once you're dressed, I'll teleport you out."

And like that, the other woman turns on her heel and walks out of the room, leaving Missy kneeling on the floor, naked, alone with her costume. Slowly, wordlessly, the moment for any other choice seemingly having passed her by, Missy stands up and dons the visage of Vista of the Protectorate once more. When she's done, everything perfectly in place, she finds herself suddenly elsewhere… specifically, on the edge of Taylor's territory, where she'd first entered.

Mouth dry, Vista takes one last look back at the red line on the ground that signifies the border… and then she begins making her way back to HQ. It seems she still has a job to do, and the PRT will want her to check in, she imagines.

-x-X-x-

"What did you see? What did she tell you? Vista, we need to know everything you know about Taylor Hebert."

As Director Tagg sits across from her, she honestly wants to tear her hair out in frustration. At the same time though, a part of her doesn't even want to give him the time of day. So, she doesn't.

"I've answered all of these questions and more already, Director. As you should well know, since you were the one who had me put under Master-Stranger Protocols for this last week. I can't imagine you haven't read the transcripts a dozen times over by this point."

Director Tagg's jaw clenches, and the man looks at Vista with those beady eyes of his, clearly angered by her insubordination. Rolling her eyes at his weak ass attempt at intimidation via the silent treatment, Vista just shakes her head.

"Like I said before, I was teleported into a room, Taylor herself talked to me and told me what she'd done with some of the Slaughterhouse Nine, and I asked her if she would be willing to kill the rest of them for us. She was indeed willing, under the condition that I stay with her. Two days later, she let me go and I turned myself over to you.

Of course, that wasn't actually all of it, but Vista wasn't about to tell the PRT what had actually happened between her and Taylor, and she knew from experience how to trick Armsmaster's lie detector. Everything she'd said would read as true. Unwilling to let Tagg continue to try and fail to browbeat her into submission, Vista slams a hand down on the table between them.

"Now, will that be ALL Director? Or are you going to continue keeping an exceptional power like mine off of the field and away from helping clean up this incredibly damaged city?"

For a long moment, the Director looks like he wants to do just that. But Vista knows he won't. More accurately, he likely can't. Brockton Bay has been through so much in recent months that there's a hell of a lot of eyes on it, and he's probably got a ton of oversight these days, after some of the shit Piggot and then Calvert, who'd turned out to be Coil, had been allowed to pull while in the position.

At the end of the day, Director Tagg was not the be all, end all for power in the Bay, and they BOTH knew it, even if one didn't count Taylor.

"… You're dismissed, Vista."

She's through the door and down the hall before he can change his mind. She needs to get out of here, she needs to… she needs to think. One might think that a week of Master-Stranger Protocols would give you plenty of time to think, but then one would be oh so very wrong, and probably incredibly misinformed. No, you weren't left alone with your thoughts for very long during that time period.

That was what Missy needed now, and that was what she was going to get. She needed to… she needed to figure things out. Once and for all.

-x-X-x-

Two weeks later, when Missy Biron steps over the red line into Taylor's territory, she's not wearing her costume. She's just Missy. And yet, as she enters Taylor's area, she's abruptly yanked through space until she finds herself appearing before Taylor once more, the other woman looking at her with a raised eyebrow, visibly surprised.

Silently, Missy takes off her clothing, not saying a word as she strips down to her birthday suit. Once she's done that, she kneels on the floor in front of her Mistress, adopting an incredibly submissive pose. There's a beat of silence, and then Taylor laughs.

"Get up. You don't have to do that, Missy. You can join me without catering to my every desire."

Slowly, Missy lifts her head and looks Taylor, her Mistress, in the eye.

"Who said I was catering to YOUR desires alone, Mistress?"

Taylor blinks owlishly at that, staring at Missy for a long moment before letting out a bark of laughter. She prowls forward, but Missy stays where she is, kneeling and waiting for Taylor to reach her. As soon as the taller woman does, she reaches out and grabs Missy by her hair, fisting it into a ponytail as she tugs the young woman's head back a bit.

"Are you sure about this, Missy? I can't promise I'll be willing to let you go again… not if you give yourself to me like this. I just… I'm a possessive sort, you understand?"

Missy's answering smile is bright and almost blinding.

"Not to worry, Mistress. I'm eager to be possessed."

Taylor bites her lower lip, and then drags Missy to her feet, leaning down at the same time to kiss her, right then and there. Missy, even though she's not bound in any way, makes sure to place her hands behind her back and clasp her arms by the forearm as she surrenders to her Mistress' domineering kiss. She's finally where she belongs.

-x-X-x-

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