| |
“I told you we would reward you,” Turquoise said as Obsidian sucked Kevin off. Somehow, lying out of his ass had rewarded Kevin with a blow job.
The last few hours had gotten progressively better with each lie he told, each scenario he made up.
The cat girls let Kevin go to the restroom, they let him eat, and as he continued to fabricate reasons as to why Centralia was set on invading the Western Province, he found himself in the position he was in now: relaxing on a white fur carpet, his head on Turquoise’s lap while her counterpart went to town on his only claim to fame.
“Thanks...” he said, not sure what else to say. “Thank you!”
He was still scared shitless, and he was pretty sure the two cat girls were definitely unstable, as evidenced by the scratch marks covering his body. But they’d believed his lies, and there was no way he’d turn down what Obsidian was doing now.
Turquoise continued speaking over the slurping noises.
“We talked about it, just a little bit, and we thought you would never come clean,” she confessed. “But since you have, we think you would be an asset to have on our side.”
He heard her prayer beads clinking against the ground as she cycled through them. That was another thing he’d noticed, especially about Turquoise—she practiced some type of religion that had her cycling through mantras every hour or so. She kept her prayer beads wrapped around her left wrist to make it easier to utilize them.
“An asset?”
Turquoise’s tail dropped onto Kevin’s face, tickling his nostrils. He sneezed, which caused him to lunge forward a little bit and nearly knock Obsidian off his knob. She recovered and kept going, using her soft hand—no claws!—to jerk him off as she focused on the tip.
All of this was unpredictable, and Kevin was a man that liked predictability. He was a creature of comfort who did everything by the books, and now he was not only selling out his brother of the same name, he was selling out his government.
He’d said a lot of things in the delirium he’d been in earlier, a delirium he believed had been caused by some excretion from the sadist sisters, and while much of what he’d said was false, some was true—or at the very least, speculation.
“Are you going to finish soon?” Obsidian asked. “It’s hurting my jaw.”
“I’ll show you how to do it.” Turquoise set Kevin’s head on the ground, relaxed her prayer beads, and joined the other cat girl just below Kevin’s waist.
Not that Obsidian was bad, but when Turquoise took over, Kevin moaned in response.
He glanced down at her as she went at it, watching her perky ears move up and down. His belly was too large to see all the action, but he got the picture.
And a picture was worth a thousand words, or possibly, a single orgasm.
There was a lot to his impending orgasm, considering that he hadn’t been with his wife in quite a while, and that he was too prude to jerk off.
“So much!” Obsidian said in astonishment as he finished. Turquoise stood with her hand over her mouth and then moved towards the restroom.
After a moment to come down, Kevin tried to send a mental message. For some reason, this wasn’t working, and he couldn’t understand why.
It should work. He’d only been in a few situations where a mental message hadn’t worked. But here he was, lying on a fur carpet in someone’s large bedroom, at a loss for words.
The strange part about all this was that aside from the fear, Kevin felt good. It felt good being wicked, good going against his perfect brother and their overreaching government, good getting his body covered in scratches and then sucked off.
Kevin was afraid, sure, but he was also afraid of the thought that kept flickering at the back of his skull: Join them.
And he knew it wasn’t some telepath hiding in the shadows—this was all Kevin.
While he didn’t show it, Kevin knew more about superpowers than most people at the immigration office. He was an expert. And no, he didn’t have some fancy Exemplar Studies degree or anything; his expertise came from constantly dealing with supers, from actual experience.
And he knew what a telepath in the area would feel like, even a Type I.
No, this thought at the back of Kevin’s mind was his own; there really was only one option in this scenario, and luckily for Kevin, he liked it.
Turquoise returned and cuddled up next to him.
He placed his hand on the bottom of her ass, his fingers probing at her tail a little bit, the place where it met her skin. Obsidian came on the other side and got in an equally comfortable position.
“I want to join you,” he said, still a bit breathless from his orgasm, “but I don’t have a super power.”
Turquoise laughed. “I think that’s something we can take care of. What do you think, Obsidian?”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Even without a superpower?” Kevin asked.
“Your power is information,” Turquoise said, purring softly now. “And there are ways for us to give you some type of power, but we’ll need to talk to our handler. She would have to approve it.”
“Your handler?” Kevin hadn’t considered this aspect. “Who’s that?”
“Paris,” said Obsidian. “Her name is Paris, and she’s the one who told us to take you from the hospital.”
“Paris, huh?” Kevin searched his mind, hoping to remember meeting someone with that name. When it was clear he wouldn’t find anything, he returned his attention to the two cat girls. Obsidian had pressed her head next to his, her ear lightly touching his cheek.
Kevin was in a good place, a damn fine place, and considering how ordinarily shitty his former life had been, it was a place he planned to stay.
