Chapter 1 - We Met In A Bar (gokkun, public, slight body mod)

My chest hurt. My lip was raw and bleeding. I had splinters in my back from a fucking Spartan-kick that sent me crashing into a wooden pallet, and I was pretty sure a couple of my ribs were cracked. So yeah, it had been a pretty long day.


But that was Gotham, alright. This city pushed you down, kicked you in the stomach, and when you pull yourself back to your feet to try and look for some semblance of normalcy again? It spit in your face, then dropped trou to try and shit down your throat. So you could hardly blame me for wanting a drink. Yes, the mugger had taken my cash and cards, and no, you’re not supposed to drink when you probably have a concussion, but Miller would let me in and I wanted whiskey, damn it.

Which is how I found myself at the Miller Time. It was a stupid name, but I’d known the guy since Zero Year, and you don’t huddle on a roof with somebody through a flood like that without building some kind of bond. We’d been casual friends since then; he’d usually pour me a free well drink or two before opening a tab, and I’d done his taxes every year since.

“Well whiskey, if you don’t mind,” I said as I flopped onto one of the stools, pleather squeaking under me as I tried to sit in a way that didn’t irritate the hell out of my ribs.

Miller didn’t even look twice at my injuries before taking out a glass and a bottle. A barkeep sees a lot of the darkness in a city, I think. People go to a bar either to have a good time or to drown their sorrows, and even those two wildly different experiences aren’t always mutually exclusive. Miller poured generously and set it on the bar in front of me alongside a chunk of ice the size of my fist wrapped in a dishcloth. I raised the glass in thanks and took a long slug.

“Told you to stop going down Crime Alley,” Miller murmured, pulling a damp rag from under the bar and wiping up a smear of blood I’d left on the scarred old wood. “The whole city’s a mess, but that place worse than others. The street is literally called ‘Crime Alley’, Alex. I don’t even remember the name on the street sign.”

“GCPD shut down Fourth and Maplethorpe,” I replied, considering the ice-laden cloth in my hand. I was genuinely unsure of which part of my body needed it the most. “A couple of the Joker’s boys flipped a fucking school bus running from one of the Bats. There wasn’t any other way to go. And ‘sides, if I didn’t make it here, who would bleed all over your bar and drink your cheap whiskey?”

“I’ll drink your cheap whiskey.”

The pair of us looked up from either side of the bar, and I imagine our jaws dropped in unison. An absolute bombshell of a woman had stepped up beside me, looking like a character straight out of a Rob Liefield comic: fiery red hair framed striking and wild facial features, accompanied by an incredible hourglass figure. A simple white blouse clung to her almost over-sized breasts, and it was unbuttoned nearly to her navel to reveal a stunning V of smooth, pale flesh and an equally-stunning lack of bra. Her nipples weren’t necessarily out, but every step she took sent her breasts jiggling and revealed a bit of soft pink areola. The lines of her body drew the eye ever downward to a black pencil skirt that ended well above mid-thigh, the side slit coming nearly up to hips she could’ve birthed a fucking horse through, and as she settled onto the seat next to me, she lifted her knees in a way I could swear was meant to reveal her distinct lack of underwear.

She sort of looked like the world’s sexiest librarian, I guess, and the look was completed by a pair of wide-framed hipster-eque glasses that perched on a button nose over a dusting of light freckles. This woman was an Irish-blooded goddess, fire and warmth manifest in femininity, and she had blessed me with her presence. A brilliant smile spread across her face, and I felt like I’d go blind if I stared at her for two long.

“Drinking alone?” She purred. Her voice was sultry without being breathy in that annoying way actresses do it in porn, and her plump, full lips moved in a way that was honestly mesmerizing. The things I would’ve done to even brush my fingers against her mouth were innumerable, and likely would’ve called the Justice League down on me.

In fact, I was so lost in the stunning visage of her mouth that it took me a moment to connect the question being asked with being directed toward me. My eyes shot back up to meet her gaze, only to find myself sinking into her eyes. They were an almost glacial blue, but not in a way that seemed cold. Instead, they looked like the coolest, most refreshing pool of water a person could’ve asked for in the middle of the desert.

“Not anymore, it seems,” I replied almost a full minute late. I was honestly just happy the words had come out at all, and in a complete sentence no less.

“You looked like you could use a companion,” she murmured, and I forced myself to take a pull from the whiskey in my hands just so I could recover from the dizziness of hearing her voice. “I was glad to be of service. I bet I could service you in a lot of ways.”

I choked. 

As I sat there, spluttering incoherently and struggling not to aspirate bottom-shelf whiskey, I realized I was in over my head. I dabbed at my face and tried to fight down the hacking cough of a man who’d inhaled a third of his drink, but then I noticed her smile shift from pleasant to amused. A small thrill moved through me—before, she’d been smiling to be polite, but now she was smiling because of something I’d done, even if it was making a fool of myself and adding pneumonia to my list of aches for the evening.

“Are you alright?” She asked, scattering my thoughts, but this time I was prepared for the dazzling cadence of her voice.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied, clearing my throat loudly and wiping my mouth again. “They tell me you’re supposed to swallow it, but I prefer to just get it all over my face.”

Her eyes widened, and I briefly considered just getting up and walking out. Had I really just made an ass of myself twice in a row? What the hell was I doing?

But to my surprise, she began to laugh, the deep, genuine sound of it echoing from the walls of the room like the clear peals of a bell. I cocked a grin despite myself, her mirth infecting me, and within moments the mood between us shifted from the tension of strangers to the warmth of old friends. I held out my hand, which she shook delicately.

“I’m Alex Asher,” I said with a smile, leaning against the bar. “I don’t recognize you, are you from around here?”

She smiled back and shook her head, which set those beautiful breasts jiggling wildly, and it was all I could do not to stare. “I’m just in Gotham for the time being, unless I find something that makes me want to stay. And you can call me Syx.”

I took another drink and nodded sagely, because of course her name was just as surreal as her looks. “In town for business, or pleasure? Gotham City isn’t exactly the kind of place one looks forward to passing through.”

“Oh, wherever I go, it’s for pleasure,” she said, her grin taking on something of a sultry edge. “But I dunno, I kind of like the city. Beautiful architecture, top-tier theatres and culture, and all under the protection of the Batman and his people. It’s got to be worth living in, for so many people to live in it.”

My mind shuddered into memories of what this city could do to a person, my earlier mugging not the least of them. Gotham was a hell-hole, and the only reason I stayed here was because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I had enough money to live but not travel, a job with no mobility, and a life with no living. I crunched numbers for a living and accomplished nothing with any real meaning to it. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I mumbled bitterly, and I dabbed at my bloody lip. The pain and bleeding had stopped, but the swelling hadn’t really gone down much.

Syx frowned, glancing over my injuries as if she hadn’t noticed them before, my split lip, bruised hands, scraped elbows. “What happened to you?”
I shook my head, dropping the cloth and ice in favor of my whiskey. It wasn’t really something I wanted to get into with her, but as the silence dragged on, I knew I wasn’t going to get out of it. So I set my gaze on the scarred wood of the bar under my hands, picking at a deep chip with my nail, and told her what had happened. 

“I got mugged on my way here from work. Some thugs kicked the shit out of me and took my cash and credit card. Left me my wallet, though,” I finished with a sigh, holding up the battered, empty leather billfold as proof.

The frown on her face managed to be both sad and breathtaking. “What about the police? Or the masks, like Batman or Nightwing?”

“Nobody can be everywhere at once, and there aren’t enough masks in this city to keep up with the crime rate,” I replied, stuffing my wallet back into my pocket. “And anyway, they’re reactive, you know? I’d still have gotten beat down, even if Batman had dropped in to save me. The difference is that I guess I could’ve kept the eleven dollars I had.”

We lapsed into companionable silence after that, me drinking my whiskey and her looking at me intensely. Then Syx spoke up after a moment, leaning in close. 

“And what if you had limitless power?” She asked, her big blue eyes wide and earnest. “If you could shape the world as you saw fit? What if everybody just did whatever you said as if it were totally normal and acceptable?”

“I’d probably get laid a lot more,” I said before I could stop myself, but she just giggled. Whether it was the whiskey or her company, I pressed on. “I don’t know if I’d be much of a hero, but I’d definitely use the power. I’d take what I wanted, I guess, and do whatever I wanted. It probably wouldn’t make the world a much better place, but I’d be a lot happier. Sometimes I feel like I’m never allowed to just be who I want to be, or do what I want to do.”

She stared deep into my eyes then, as if searching for something. I held her gaze, not knowing what else to do, letting her intensity wash over me like a tidal wave, and did my best not to look down at her chest. Syx had leaned in, and her plump double-Ds were dangerously close to falling free of her shirt, a solid half inch of pale pink areola out in the open on either breast. In fact, it looked almost as if the only thing keeping them in her shirt might be her nipples themselves, and I felt the rigid hard-on I’d been nursing since I laid eyes on her twitch at the sight of it.

“I bet you’d fuck a lot of women if you had that kind of power,” she said after a few long moments, her seductive smile playing back across her face as utter surprise shocked across mine. “I bet you’d bend me over this bar and take my pussy right now.”

I struggled to get any coherent thought out of my mouth, but she leaned forward, the same intensity as before in her eyes. My cock throbbed in my pants now, and I nodded wordlessly. Syx nodded back, her breath coming a little quicker now as she eyed the bulge in my pants, and one of her hands went out to clutch mine. “Do it. Tell me what you want me to do.”

I looked around and realized nobody in the bar was paying us any mind. Even Miller, who’d been with me when she’d initially walked up, was off chatting with one of the regular bar flies now, and he didn’t even look up at me. My heart began to race as I considered the gorgeous woman in front of me, every inch of her aching to be touched, but her eyes were solid. Resolved. She wanted this.

So before I could talk myself out of it, I blurted, “Get your tits out.”

Without so much as blinking, Syx reached up and popped her breasts out. They’d been pretty out in the open before, but now I could see every inch of their incredible splendor, two mountains of alabaster flesh nearly as big as her head capped with rosy pink areola and rigid nipples. For a moment, looking down at her surreal visage, I thought of the Venus de Milo in the Louvre, but Venus had nothing on the woman in front of me. 

Hesitantly at first, then urged on by the throbbing of my cock and the way she bit her bottom lip, I reached out and took one stiff nipple between my fingers. Syx gasped softly as I tugged on it gently, and I almost stopped when her free hand came up to mine. Instead, I felt her squeeze, pushing me to pinch her nipple harder, and at the same time I watched as she leaned backward. The end result was me pulling her nipple almost cruelly, but I could see on her face that she loved it, clenching her teeth and letting out a long, low nnnff sound that almost made me cum in my pants.

Then I let go, feeling the thrill of it all set in as my heart pounded, pumping adrenaline into my veins. The sharp shudder of it, the power dynamic shifting between us as Syx begged me with her eyes for more, it was almost too much. This was impossible and surreal and I absolutely loved it.

“Show me your pussy,” I said breathlessly, gesturing to her skirt. I could see she was panting now as she pulled the fabric up to bunch at her waist, and I noticed I had been right earlier—she wasn’t wearing any panties. Her pussy was hairless, and the same perfect pink as her nipples. Beyond that, it was puffy and swollen and drenched with arousal as she held her skirt in place, her wetness dripping on Miller’s pleather bar stool. I couldn’t help but grin, looking up at her in satisfaction. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“So much, you have no idea,” Syx breathed back, panting softly as she exposed herself for me in this crowded bar. “I want you to pound my pussy so badly.”

I nodded, feeling my power over her solidify. It was something she’d given me willingly, submitting to me here, and in reward, I gestured to her soaked pussy. “Rub your clit in front of all these people. Show me how badly you want it.”

And then she did it. She took a moment to lick the tips of her fingers before reaching down to work her pussy furiously, looking me dead in the eye the whole time. In moments she was cumming, forcing an orgasm out of herself before I could even say anything. I watched as her pussy spasmed and clenched against the faux leather of the stool, practically spraying girlcum across it and even getting a few drops on my pants. I cocked my eyebrows, looking up at her pleasure-wracked face and giving a whistle. She must’ve been really pent up—

“Hey, Alex?”

My heart dropped into my stomach as Miller stepped up to the bar across from us. I looked from Syx, breasts on full display and one leg cocked up to show off her pussy as she toyed with her clit, up to the barkeep. Surely this was the end of it? I’d gotten so wrapped up in what we’d been doing that I’d forgotten we were in a crowded bar. No doubt the other patrons had been watching us this whole time in abject horror as a woman jilled herself into oblivion.

“Refresh your whiskey? Or are you cutting off early tonight?”

I stared dumbstruck at him for probably a full minute before glancing back at the bar around us. The place was packed with the usual evening crowd, a football crowd no less, turning out in black and gray to watch the Gotham Knights play the Central City Cougars. And not a single one of them was the least bit interested in Syx, now slapping her cunt lightly as she sent another orgasmic spray across the seat in front of her.

“I probably shouldn’t, I think,” I mumbled mindlessly, looking around in bewilderment.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Miller replied with a frown, reaching down with a damp rag to wipe up the pool of dew that had gathered under Syx’s dripping cunt. 

“You look like you just saw the Bat. Feeling okay?”

“Better all the time,” I intoned, watching as he tossed the rag in the sink as if he hadn’t just cleaned up a puddle of liquid straight out of a woman’s body. 

And nobody seemed to care. I looked up at Syx, her blue eyes hazy with pleasure. She still hadn’t stopped masturbating, and while that was incredibly hot, I couldn’t get past my confusion. What was going on?

What if everybody just did whatever you said as if it were totally normal and acceptable?

“You’re doing this,” I said as realization dawned on me. I didn’t know how, maybe she was some kind of metahuman, but Syx was making everybody around us act as if what we were doing was totally normal.

“Nope,” she replied, leaning back to catch her breath after two orgasms in a row and taking a long pull from a glass of water I don’t remember Miller giving her. “You’re doing this. I’ve given you the ability to make anybody do whatever you want without anybody else thinking it’s out of the ordinary.”

I frowned. “But how?”

“Miss Syxytkls, fifth dimensional being and master of reality,” Syx offered, pronouncing it six-ee-tek-el-us and thrusting her pussy-drenched hand out cordially, as if we were just meeting for the first time. “At your service. Well, sort of. I’ve given you only about one percent of my power, so it won’t work on me, but these feeble humans will do whatever you want.”

I’m stupid, I guess, so I kept frowning. “But why?”

Syx smiled and shrugged, reaching down to sink two fingers into her hairless cunt, sliding them deep, deep inside of herself for a moment before drawing them back out with a shudder. “It’s not like I had anything to do today,” she said, licking her fingers clean of her own juices. “Time is a construct and therefore unreal. And anyway, I like you, Alex. You really seem like you know how to have fun. And you’re the only person I offered this power to who didn’t say something like be the next superhero or world domination. But I don’t need a do-gooder or a genocidal maniac, I just want somebody I can hang out with. So do whatever you want from now on, really use the power I gave you. But first, blow a couple of loads in my fuckhole right here in this bar.”

Maybe it was the vulgar twist she gave the sentence, or maybe it was all the weird shit that we’d already done up to that point. She’d said she was a fifth dimensionl being, after all. And if the ability to make anybody do whatever I want was just a tiny fraction of her power… who was I to argue?

“Yeah, okay,” I said, standing and working my belt to undo my pants. In seconds, Syx had my cock in her hands, stroking it slowly and smiling as she took in the look of it.

“No slacker in the size department, are you,” she said with a smile, placing a soft kiss against the shaft as she worked my dick with her hand.

I shrugged. I was no slouch, coming in at about six and a half inches (you’ve measured too, don’t deny it) and pretty thick, but every guy wants to be just a little bigger, right?

“I think I could do with an inch or two more,” I replied as she lapped up the bead of pre from my tip. “And I’ve always wanted to cum a lot. Like, hentai amounts.”

With a devious grin, Syx snapped her fingers, and I felt the world shift a little. It wasn’t anything overt, no earthquakes or explosions, but I felt… different, somehow. As I watched, my cock began to grow as it always did when I got a boner, larger and larger with each beat of my heart, but much bigger than usual. It felt organic, normal, but as it capped off at a solid nine inch slab of meat, the woman below me let it rest laconically on her face to prove that I was now much larger than before.

“We’ll have to make sure you’re putting out the volume you want, though,” Syx added, wiggling her eyebrows seductively. Then she turned and bent over the barstool, slapping her ass and making it jiggle in the most wonderful way.

“Damn right,” was my response before digging my fingers into her impossibly wide hips and stuffing every inch of my cock into her.

A sharp, sudden cry filled the room as I slid into her. I could feel her pussy spasm and gush around me, hot and tight and so fucking wet as an orgasm rocked her body. Syx was wetter than any woman I’d ever been with, and there was almost zero friction as I slammed into her. There was no build up, no keeping pace, just me drilling the sexiest woman I’d ever met into a bar stool like an animal.

And all the while, the whole room ignored us. The thought of it sent a thrill through me as I pounded Syx deep and fast, a bar full of people sitting idly by as I did my best to utterly ruin the woman beneath me. So casual, so uninterested, as if everything was totally normal about what we were doing. And if Syx was right… it was.

And Syx was none too quiet about it, either, moaning with every other thrust and practically screaming when she came. At one point she even knocked over my empty glass, but Miller darted in to catch it just at the second with a laugh, setting it back on the bar in front of us. “Careful,” he said, rapping the bar twice with his knuckles. “Wouldn’t want glass all over the place while you two finish up.”

This was my new normal, it seemed. If what Syx had told me was true, I could finish with her, walk up to the nearest person, and bend her over the table to do the same to her and she wouldn’t even blink. There was a pair of blondes in one corner of the bar who, while almost plain next to Syx’s bombshell physique, would be quite attractive under normal circumstances. I could have my pick of them—or hell, I could have both at the same time. The thought drove me wild.

“Fu-uuck,” I groaned, feeling my climax nearing, my cock throbbing and twitching in Syx, and I reached forward to pull on one of her nipples. The effect on her was satisfying, ripping a squeal from her chest and setting her to slamming her hips back against mine.

“Do it, fill me up,” she moaned loudly, practically sobbing as the pleasure wracked her body. “Do it! Doitdoitdoit—!”

She was cut off by my primal snarl as my orgasm hit, sending a spurt of cum splattering against her cervix. I could feel that it was different from how it used to be, these were thick jets of seed that seemed unending. I filled her cunt until it oozed out of the seal of her lips around the base of my shaft, setting off a reactionary climax in Syx that made her spasm and twitch, like her pussy was milking every drop from me.

We stayed like that for what felt like minutes, hot semen dripping out of her and onto the stone floor of Miller’s bar. When I did eventually pull out, she flopped back onto her stool as my cum gushed out of her and onto the pleather. After catching her breath for a moment, she reached down and plunged her fingers into the gooey mess of her hole, lifting it to check the consistence of the massive load I’d pumped into her. It was unusually thick, almost more like jelly than the usual syrupy texture, and it clung to her hand instead of dripping off of it.

“So nasty,” the fifth-dimensional, presumably god-like bombshell whimpered before licking it off her fingers and dipping into her cunt for more. 

Grabbing my empty glass from where Miller had set it, I pressed it under her pussy and she understood at once, fingering the cum out of her well-stretched fuckhole and into the glass. When all was said and done, she had a little more than half the glass—something like five or six ounces.
The smell of it was heady and powerful, scenting the air with a musk that got even my head a little fuzzy. Around the room, I noticed a few people look up as the smell reached them, and more than a few legs crossed unconsciously. It smelled like sex, but carried with it an animal heaviness that was almost palpable.

“Bottoms up,” I told her, gesturing with my chin. Some small part of me, the part of me that was still convinced this was all some kind of incredible wet dream, didn’t think she would do it.

But of course, she did. Tilting the glass, she shook it and tapped the bottom with one delicate fingernail until it began to ooze—and that was the only real word to describe the motion of the overly-thick, almost lumpy fluid—down onto her tongue. She kept her lips parted so I could watch as it slowly filled her mouth, plopping in thick globs onto her outstretched tongue until it was at the very brim of her lips. And then she began to swallow.
But it was too much, it seemed. Although I’ve no doubt she could’ve just expanded her gullet with magic or something, I could see that Syx was having trouble getting the nauseatingly thick substance down her throat. I briefly considered the Heimlich or something, but before I could act, she dropped to her knees and pulled her lips open the fingers of one hand while the other stroked my still solid erection.

God, she was incredible.

Taking the back of her head and tangling my fingers in her fiery mane, I set the tip of my now monstrous cock onto her tongue and slowly, smoothly slid every bit of it into her mouth. At about a third of my length I found the back of her throat, and every inch afterward went straight down her gullet until her nose was pressed into my crotch. I kept her there for a few moments, feeling her esophagus work and clench around my cock as she throated it, forcing down the glass of nut in front of it to make room.

Eventually, when her eyes began to get a little hazy, I pulled out and let my cock drop onto her face with a wet splat as she drew in a gasping breath. Every exhale was part moan, though, and when I looked down, I noticed her fingers where now buried in her cunt, and her lips moved against my balls after a few seconds of labored breathing. If nothing else could prove that she was some sort of extra-dimensional being on the same level as Dr. Fate or some shit, it was this—who else could fuck like that and just want more besides a young god, like Wonder Woman or Superman?

“It’s so thick,” Syx managed when her breath became a little more regular, still panting lightly. “I’ve outdone myself. You could spoil a girl with that stuff. I want at least another full glass before we’re done here.”

“You’ll get it,” I groaned, stroking my cock. It was still hard as rock, despite the intense orgasm Syx’s fifth dimensional cunt had just milked from me. As I leaned back against the bar, Syx’s tongue lapping languidly at my sack, I wondered idly at the implications of the power she’d supposedly given me. “So anybody will do anything I say, and nobody will find it out of the ordinary?”

Dragging her mouth away from my balls reluctantly, Syx rose to her feet and mimicked my posture in her own seat, both her shirt and her skirt bunched around her waist. “That’s the gist of it. Anybody susceptible to magic will find whatever you say or do totally reasonable. You should try it out.”

I nodded absently, glancing around for a target. Finally, one of the teenage serving girls Miller kept around passed by, a nineteen year old blonde with braces and a fat ass named Tara. She always wore tight leggings for the tips, so thin you could see through them in the right light, and while she didn’t have much up top, her nipple piercings were pretty obvious through the Gotham Knights tee she’d cut into a crop top. I lashed out and smacked her ass before I could overthink it, causing it to wobble obscenely as she turned to me. 
Part of me thought I might’ve gone too far. I’d seen Miller get out the baseball bat he kept under the bar when drunkards put their hands on his girls. But Tara just giggled, showing off her rainbow-colored braces when she saw it was me who’d done it.

“Hey there, Alex! Always knew you liked my butt,” she said with a smile, and then she turned and smacked her own ass for good measure, a little harder than I had. “Anything I can get you or your lady friend here?”

Incredible. Impossible. Miller had beat wholesale ass for less, but now he didn’t even look up. As I watched her plush bottom jiggle enticingly, I decided to push my luck.

“No, I think I’m good for now,” I replied, idly reaching out to lift her crop top; as I expected, she hadn’t worn a bra, and now a pair of puffy pink nipples run through with silver barbells greeted me and anyone else who cared to look. “But I know Syx here wants a cup of fresh nut. Care to drain my balls for her?”

My heart pounded. My cock throbbed. My stomach flopped in anticipation.

“Sure, let me get a glass,” came her answer, and the cropped hem of her shirt caught on one piercing as she bounced over to the bar, leaving it exposed as she went. She was back in seconds, her small hand wrapped around the monster Syx had given me, working it almost professionally. Despite her youth, the girl had skill, and she paused for a moment to lick her hand before going back to work on me.

“What a sweetheart you are,” Syx purred, reaching out to tug on one of Tara’s shiny piercings. “So young and eager to please.”

Tara bit her lip, whimpering softly, and I could see her nipples stiffening under Syx’s fingers. “Thanks,” she said, turning her body so the other woman could have better access. “I’m just really thankful Miller gave me this job. I have three younger brothers, so the paycheck and tips really help around my house.”

She was making small talk while she did her best to get me off. The very image was almost too much to bear, Syx basically naked at a bar chatting with a teen who was giving me a handjob. Despite the strangeness of it all, I could feel myself nearing climax within minutes of the casual combination. Reaching up, I took Tara by the slim line of her jaw mid-sentence and guided her to my cock. Her mouth was too small to fit the massive head of it, so she pursed her lips around the tip and worked hard with both hands, swirling her tongue around and over the helm. That was damn fine coordination, there. True skill.

“Better get that cup ready,” I groaned after a couple of minutes of this, and Syx held it close to my lap. Then Tara gave one last tongue assault on my dick before pulling away and pumping hard. My climax hit with undiminished force, washing over me as the first jet of semen left my body.

And a jet it was. One thick rope of semen left my cock after another, piling onto each other at the bottom of the glass and wobbling merrily. It almost looked as if it wouldn’t mesh together, instead staying separate blobs of jelly-like cum. But as more and more of it poured into the glass, stroked out of me by Tara’s skilled hands, it was forced to merge until Syx was holding an eight-ounce glass three-quarters full of fresh, nearly steaming cum. The smell of it hit us all again, including Tara, who eyed it like a man in a desert eyes water.

“Th-that’s disgusting,” she squeaked, but it was clear as she stared at the cup of hot, overly-thick semen in Syx’s hands that her body thought the exact opposite. Whatever it was, it was something she wanted.

“Have a taste, dear,” Syx purred, though the look on her face as she handed the glass over to Tara was almost reluctant. “I promise, you’ll only want more.”

Licking her lips in anticipation, Tara lifted the glass to her face and breathed in deeply. The heady musk of my cum seemed to wash over her, and she actually whimpered as she exhaled, her thighs grinding together beneath her.

“I think my womb just twitched,” she murmured almost reverently, and then she tilted the glass to her lips and took a pull. As it flooded into her mouth, Tara’s eyes widened and her brows shot up, and the look on her face as she mulled it around in her mouth was priceless. She almost looked like she was chewing it, pushing it around in her mouth with her tongue for several long moments before swallowing thickly.

“I-I can feel it coating my throat, still,” she said in awe, the words almost a moan, and her thighs squeezed together again. I got the sense the poor girl had soaked through her panties already. 

“It’s addictive,” Syx agreed, taking the glass from Tara before the girl could chug it all down. As Syx tossed it back, draining the contents with several laborious gulps, the teenage serving girl watched with something akin to jealousy on her face, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Tara, take this tray to table seven, and four wants another pitcher,” Miller called from down the bar, breaking into our little bubble of depravity. Tara jerked with a start, as if she’d been in some kind of trance, and she offered a cum-scented smile before walking shakily away.

I watched her go, and for a little while, Syx and I just sat together. I imagine she was letting me take in what had happened and reckon with my knew abilities. I mostly just wanted to bask in the afterglow of two intense consecutive orgasms, but I suppose it did merit a little thinking. I was basically a god, now. Syx had done something not just to give me the power she had, but also to enhance my body, as I no longer felt the pain from my earlier mugging. A glance down at what should’ve been bruised and scraped arms revealed fresh skin, though a little dried blood clung on as if to prove that it had happened in the first place.

“Just a slight healing factor,” Syx murmured, as if reading my mind—which she probably could’ve done, for all I knew. “You actually already had the gene for it, I just activated it for you. It’s not instantaneous or anything, but most minor scrapes should heal in a few minutes, and you probably don’t have to worry much about illness or STIs anymore.”

I nodded, but remained silent. How did this change my perspective? I was mostly alone in the world, the only child of a pilot and a flight attendant. Mom had died in an accident when I was younger, and Dad had thrown himself into work and eventually settled in Paris. We didn’t talk much. I had an aunt in San Francisco, but I hadn’t spoken to her in a few months. I was an accountant for LexCorp, not that it was going anywhere. I’d never really had the freedom to be or do anything.

And now, I could basically do whatever I wanted. There was a truly villainous aspect to that, but I wasn’t interested. Become the next Psycho Pirate or something? No thanks. The Big Blue Boy Scout could keep his cape, too, I didn’t want to be a hero. I just wanted to be… well, me.
“So what are the rules?”

Syx grinned, laying her slightly-damp head on my shoulder, the opposite side of her face still slick with saliva and semen. “No rules. Well, I guess don’t make too much noise, or one of the big masks somewhere will notice. There are some out there immune even to my abilities, like Dr Fate, or the Phantom Stranger, or that god-awful Spectre guy. Powers who exist outside the scope of reality.”

“That’s intense,” I mumbled, frowning. “But not too big a deal, I guess. I wasn’t planning on walking a group of grade-schoolers into a pit of lava. I’ll probably just try and fuck Supergirl or something.”

            Syx burst into laughter, and I smiled. Her enthusiasm really was infectious. Then I reached over and grabbed one of her massive tits, bouncing the jiggly orb of impossibly perky flesh in my hand.

            “Now let’s go a couple more rounds, and then we’ll see about getting a room somewhere,” I said, lining my cock up with her slick snatch with a grin.