The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

We picked most of our names before we discovered our superpowers. Minerva White, Diana Green, Venus Red, Juno Violet—

Juno Purple.

Whatever, today, apparently, it’s Juno Purple.

Coughing to clear my throat.

You can’t make an ahem noise?

No gag reflex.

So, yeah, the first four and there’s also Eris Black.

I’m still pissed off she gets the Greek name. I wanted Artemis from the beginning.

Well, I liked Minerva over Athena and so did Michael. Venus had that Sailor Moon thing going for it. What were we going to do: have a Minerva, a Venus and an Artemis? It didn’t seem right.

Yeah, that’s why we forced Juno on her. But then, just because Michael attributes his first erection to no-gag-reflex’s double D’s, we throw the whole naming scheme out the window. Poof! Eris.

In fairness, we all agreed Discordia sucks.

I didn’t agree to that.

We gave you Purple over Violet. How about you let someone else get their way for once?

So, yeah, over five weeks we became a team of kick ass superheroines. Named for ancient Goddesses and wielding magic weapons with superhuman fighting skills, we—

I don’t really know if our powers are superhuman, just that we became experts as we acquired them. If we had worked really hard, had the diet and exercise right, maybe we could get—

I stopped a speeding car with a wooden shield.

I don’t think it’s technically wood.

Yeah, and I nearly broke my ribs on my airbag. Thanks, bitch.

You want me to kiss and make it better?

Michael does, if he’s watching.

Prudes... I don’t need him to be watching.

So, yeah, superhuman warrior goddesses with magical otherworldly powers fighting strange and incredible monsters for truth, justice and the cis-white male patriarchy way.

You’re only saying that to rustle my jimmies.

You’re only saying rustle my jimmies to take the piss.

You’re only saying take the piss to—

I’ll slap you both. Slap you through a wall.

You couldn’t hit me. I was never here.

I’m surrounded by idiots.

More accurately, you’re walled in on two sides by idiots.

Thank you for the clarification.

It’s important to be technically right. That way the lawyers can’t get you.

Anyways, I’m telling the story because Minerva White—

I’ve always liked the Color Goddess naming scheme.

That’s because Black Eris still sounds badass, but Green Diana and Purple Juno sound stupid.

Maybe that’s because I am the badass and—

Diana’s the badass.

OK, that was one—

I killed a dragon from the inside.

It was just a really big snake and any of us could have done that if we’d gotten swallowed.

She killed a dragon from the inside.

Fucking shut your harpy mouths! I knew Michael first. I was transformed first. I fought the first perversion. I’m telling the first Goddamned story if I have to skewer all of your Goddamned tongues on my Goddamned magic spear!

Fine, jeez, put it back in your skirt.

It is a spear but, more accurately, javelin might better—

Run! Every Goddess for herself! Juno’s the slowest, trip her and the rest of us might make it!

“Don’t throw your brother off cliffs!” The things I had to yell at boys continued to bewilder me. The pirates, my brothers, were 10 and 11 and under my watch for the day. Honestly, I’d have rathered hole them up in the rec room and watch them play X-Box than trek back to the river. Yet, after three times being called a bitch, two broken cups and one fist fight, it was time to make them play outside.

Behind our backyard, there was a woods. We lived at the top of the subdivision and it was woods for miles. A river, normally clear but quick, cut a shallow ravine along the back of the neighborhood. We were skidding down the muddy slope to reach it. Spruce and birch trees scraggled up out of the mud as we zigzagged down to the water. The cliffs weren’t large drop offs, they were more like boulders, jutting from the hillside. Eddie jumped off after Roger who had rolled, soiling his windbreaker, and had kept running down. I sidled and skidded a couple more feet in my sneakers. Should’ve worn my boots.

“Trapper! Wait!” I turned my head at his voice, just in time for his dog to dash by my knees. I wasn’t touched, but I stumbled as the black lab mix chased the pirates. I stepped quickly to the left, grabbed a tree trunk to keep my verticality, and hopped because I wasn’t stopping. My feet, thankfully, found hard stone. I pulled my hands back, sticky with sap, and wiped them on my jeans. I hit a rip and grimaced as I dragged that stickiness over the skin of my leg.

“Jan, are you alright?” He lived next door to me, must’ve been just back after his first year at college. I figured, hoped, expected, or decided that he’d grab me and steady me but he just stepped up beside me and kept a friendly distance. I smiled. He smiled.

“I’m alright,” I nodded. He had grown shoulders since... September? I hadn’t seen him when he was back for Christmas break, had I? “I better go get the pirates.”

“Well, they’ve recruited my dog,” He looked ahead and then back to me, “Walk you down?”

“Oh, you’ve majored in manners at college!” I joked nervously but he smiled.

“Yeah, it was either that or engineering,” he shrugged. “I wanted something that’d get me a job.”

“A working man, huh?” I flirted, my cheeks afire. Fuck, if I started giggling, I was going to punch my face.

“Precisely,” He laughed, he blushed a bit too. Good. I heard the body hit the current with a major splash and we had to go after my brothers. The fastest way down the hill was to break every bone in my body. I preferred the jackrabbit hopping from boulder to stone, slower but it was the safest path. Michael, reckless boy, just jogged down. His winter boots kicking the soft mud all about him.

Luckily, Trapper was dragging a stick out of the river back to Eddie. The dog playfully fought when Eddie tried to take it from his mouth. Roger threw a rock into the water and, at the splash, the dog shook his head trying to decide which game to play.

“The current gets fast downstream, so don’t throw anything beyond those rocks,” Michael directed. The boys listened. Jerks. The three of them. I forced my smile down to friendly from manic.

“OK, Michael,” Eddie grumbled and stumbled back as Trapper opened his mouth and loped over to us. I leaned down to pet him and he shook off the river water all over my sweater.

“You’re wet.” Laughed Michael.

“Yeah,” I said in good enough humor. The river water was cold, unsurprisingly. It was late April and down here there was still a little bit of snow waiting to melt into it.

“Fetch!” Shouted Eddie and Trapper was off after another stick. I shrugged at Michael and he shrugged back. I walked over to a dry boulder big enough to bench two and sat down.

I had known Michael for all 18 years. I was in my last semester at high school and he was off at college. My sister and his brother had dated, but we had never really connected like that. Maybe because we weren’t in the same grade? Maybe we had very different friends? Maybe we never talked? I liked him well enough, I thought, to flirt with him. I wasn’t much of a flirter. Michael was just easy, I guess. He was looking down at my legs. My legs in my baggy torn up jeans, there wasn’t much to see. I probably wouldn’t even have thought of it that way if I hadn’t been self conscious about the pine sap I had rubbed into my thigh.

“C’mon Eddie! It’s my turn!” Roger was growling as Trapper splashed back into the river after the stick.

“Let your brother have a turn—” I didn’t mean to shriek but Michael had reached between my legs and under the eave of the rock. I overcame the reflex and kicked out to the side and not at his ribs.

“Jan?” Eddie looked over and swore his four letter word, “Girl!”

I lifted both feet up, bouncing my knees and kicking aside some gravel as Michael pulled back a fat leather bag from under the rock.

“You alright, Jan?” He looked up for a second, squatting right between my knees.

“Sorry, you startled me,” I felt his arm bump my calf as he pulled the bag out and stood up.

“So long as you’re sorry,” he said and I nodded before I realized he was joking. The bag he had found was a backpack but it looked homemade. It had been stitched with a thick quarter inch strip of the same brown leather as the rest of it. It was one pouch, shut by a flap over a gut, and tied closed with another quarter inch strip looped around some sort of large predator fang. Michael was holding it by the strap and the bag swung back as he loosened the tie. It seemed to vomit in the way it fell open. Colored balls fell out.

“Ah, crap...” He muttered and went left to grab the red one which had rolled the farthest. I skidded off of the boulder. The backs of my sneakers scattered rocks and gravel back into the recess under the boulder. I squatted down and grabbed the white one as he stuffed a yellow one back in the bag. I climbed back onto the bolder. Michael, holding the bag more carefully, sat down next to me.

“And this one too,” I offered and yelped again. It wasn’t the same shriek. My fingernails were white. I hadn’t painted my nails since...tenth grade, really? That seemed too recent. I wasn’t much of a girly girl. I pulled back from the bag and clutched ball in my hand. It was small, hard like a pool ball, but not quite as large, I think.

“Um, you have my treasure,” he tutted. His eyes said he was worried. I forced myself to be calm and if he smiled back the way I smiled at him, I might’ve lost it.

“Hey, it came from between my legs,” I clutched it to my chest, hoping a joke would settle my nerves, “My treasure.”

“Great, I’ve always wanted to be a treasure hunter,!” He laughed and I blushed again, this time his cheeks went first though. That felt good.

“There’s a whole bunch of balls in here.” He said turning back to the bag. I was startled by a fat crack and glugging splash in the river.

“Roger if you throw rocks, Trapper can’t fetch them!” I snapped at my brother. I took a deep breath.

“There’s also a stick,” Michael announced drawing out a slender cylinder of wood, “Looks like a magic wand.”

“Oh—” I was turning to him when I moved my nose straight into a flick of the wood. I hopped backward on my butt, more startled than hurt.

“Bippity boppity boo!” He laughed, “Hey, how’d I miss that?”

“Miss what?” I asked but he flipped the stick around in his hand with a little toss.

“This little strip of white,” he pointed to a round ridge of enamel near the bottom of the wand. The whole stick was a couple of inches longer than a foot, the enamel section just wider than an inch. The same white was on my fingernails. The same white color of the ball. I squeezed it in my hand. I licked a dry tongue in my mouth. I was about to talk, but he barreled on, “I don’t get it. That little spell was supposed to give you a magic dress. Turn your brothers into horses or something. Where do you even get a pumpkin in April?”

“Maybe you’re not much of a fairy godmother?” I guarded myself with a smirk.

“Oh, yeah, smart. I should be a wizard!” He grinned evilly. I leaned back, holding myself up with my far arm as I held the white ball in my lap with the nearer one. He pointed the wand at me, “Cruci—Wait, shit no. Um...”

“Wait were you trying to use a forbidden curse on me!” I was hurt! “That’s the pain thing that broke Neville’s parents.”

“No,” He shook his head, “I was trying to remember the other one.”

“Avada Kedavra?” I raised an eyebrow.

“No, the mind control one.”

“The Imperius curse,” I smiled.

“Right,” he bopped my nose again, “Imperio.”

I raised an eyebrow. He waved the stick upward and I hopped to my feet. He laughed, spun the wand, I gave a twirl and then he waved me back down. I was on my butt again. We were laughing our asses off.

“Nice stick,” Eddie made me jump. I hadn’t heard him walk over, “Making my sister play fetch too?”

“We’re working up to it,” Michael joked. I glared at Eddie.

“You can play with us, Michael,” he glared back. “We don’t get boring.”

“And what if I like playing with your sister? Can she come play too?”

“No, it just means you’re ready for a nap, old man,” Eddie rolled his eyes and ran back over to Roger and Trapper. The younger one was losing a wrestling match with the dog.

“Don’t pull his ears!” Michael warned. Eddie flashed back a smile and slid across the mud to help the dog pin his brother.

“You going to leave the boring girl to play with the pirates?” I grinned at Michael.

“You kidding, I’ve just magicked an 18 year old girl into my control,” he laughed. “Where else would I be?”

“Well, I better state the rules then,” I dropped my voice a little as my cheeks flared again. “You can’t raise the dead. You can’t make someone fall in love and—”

“I can’t kill anybody?”

“What no? I’m down for murder. I’d be offended if there wasn’t a body count. Just no, uh, no regime changes.” I struggled up something silly and it worked, by his snorting laugh. His nose was cute. I looked away, saw my nails, and turned back to him.

“You’re a shit genie,” He poked me with the stick again, this time in the shoulder of my zipped up hoodie. A ripple rushed all around under my skin.

“So what are you going to wish for?” I flicked my eyes at the pirates but they were not paying attention to us. In the boldest, sexiest voice I imagined I could use, I whispered: “Let me guess, your own naked little love slave?”

“No, don’t be crass!” He rolled his eyes. Butterflies practiced MMA in my stomach, “I was just going to get like 587 blowjobs or something standard like that.”

“Oh! Is that all?” I dug my elbow into his ribs, “C’mon, dream big at least.”

It would’ve been so brave to suck his dick right then! Really surprise him. Surprise me. I felt tugs on my lips. But I was not going to kneel down in the river mud while my brothers were just twenty yards away. I had visions of it though. A weird feeling of pride in myself for wanting to, and of disappointment in not doing it. My girlfriends had told me about several blowjobs in dripping gory detail. I swallowed reflexively. He smiled. I smiled.

“Jan, I’m glad you’re around,” he settled back on one hand. “Do you—”

“Ed—” Roger’s shriek was followed by a splash and my brother was in the river.

Oh! Little prissy princess! You had sap on your fingers, were afraid of a little mud, and wouldn’t suck a dick! Waa, waa, waa.

Didn’t. Not wouldnt. And, fuck off, there were kids there. C’mon!

OK, so you have one excuse. But you sound like a coward virgin. Had you ever ever even kissed a boy before Michael?

Yeah, like three.

Three? Who? Your Dad and your two grandpas?

No! Boys from school. I’d been on dates.

Dates? Wow. Big girl over here.

Oh, what were their names? Were they cute? Did they wear glasses?

You have weird taste.

It’s almost like pomegranate.

That’s not what I meant. But yes, you taste like pomegranate. Should I recommend my gyno?

No, we should let Min tell her story. I never knew about the bag.

What? Please... It’s hanging from his bedpost and I know you’ve been there.

I didn’t notice it. I’ve only been to his house the one time.

Really? But you’re his widdle wuv goddess...

We’ll get to you guys when we get to you. I am trying to explain this thing.

Yeah, but what’s with the will they, won’t they, high school romance shit? Get to the perversion!

Both kinds.

May I please tell the story?

Can I continue to make fun of you?

Probably not, you have a bit of difficulty with words and, you know, concepts.

I have a gun.

“Hey do you have water guns?” Eddie asked as we dragged the unharmed but wet and filthy pirates up the hill. I had been going home to force them into showers and everything. Michael gestured to his basement doors with the wand in his hand and we all started moving to his house.

“Yeah, there’s a bunch in the basement and some towels and stuff,” He looked at me, “Mom was in the kitchen baking, hopefully, cinnamon buns. Or do you need to take the pirates home?”

“Uh,” Trapper trotted around my legs. As soon as he was in front of me he shook out his fur. I managed to quickly hop backward and avoid wet dog spattering over my jeans.

“Please!” Pleaded Roger I could see his excitement for playing something new overtaking his momentary rage at Eddie.

“Yeah, we’re not going to get any wetter, anyways,” Eddie growled.

I wanted to deny him just out of spite. I wanted to ground him for pushing and throwing his little brother around. I couldn’t enforce it and Roger was eager himself. I had slipped the orb into my sweater pocket and was stroking it. Michael had the bag on his shoulder. Maybe we should’ve left it for whoever stowed it in the woods? “OK, but so long as you boys get cleaned up before dragging your filthy clothes around Mrs Samms’s house.”

I was mostly clean, my sneakers, beat up and ancient as they were, and the socks inside them were gross but other than a bit of sap on my jeans I was in good condition. I almost wanted to go home and change but I didn’t as Michael opened the back gate into his yard. I smiled, about to head through but the pirates and the dog stormed past me.

“Do you mind saying hi to mom for me and telling her about these?” Michael waved at my brothers. He settled his hand on my elbow after a twitch.

“Oh, sure,” I nodded, “But what about—”

“No worries, the basement can survive brothers,” He laughed. Roger watched him, right at his heels, as he hitched Trapper to a long leash hooked to a roller on the clothesline. I had never seen it hang clothes, “I’ll be up shortly.”

Eddie just opened the basement doors and climbed down the steps. I shook my head and went to the back door and knocked as the boys disappeared into the home. Mrs Samms arrived a few moments later.

“Janet! Darling, what brings you over? Did Barbara need something?” Then Trapper zipped across the yard behind me and caught Mrs Samms attention, “Is Michael with you?”

“He just took Eddie and Roger downstairs. We were down by the river while he was walking Trapper,” I turned back and waved at the dog. He wagged his tail. “They’re a mess. He said he was going to lend them squirt guns or something.”

“He went for a walk in the woods, did he?” Mrs Samms was laughing, “Come on in, he’ll be up shortly.”

I squatted down and untied my shoes on the back mat. I usually just kicked these off but I usually wasn’t being watched by a grown-up.

“You don’t have to leave them outside, there’s a rubber mat by the radiator to dry them off,” She gestured. I picked up my shoes and followed her in. My socks squelched. I blushed embarrassed at her looking down. I didn’t match my socks. I was purposefully wearing one white and pink swirl and one yellow batgirl print. She just smiled as I took them off and laid them on the radiator, “Now come on, let’s go be barefoot in the kitchen.”

Mrs Samms was wearing mom jeans and a sweater. Her a-little-too-dark hair was tied back from her face in a short ponytail. She was actually wearing slippers.

“We don’t see you too much lately,” She grinned, “I loved what you did with your hair.”

“Thanks,” I had cut it short, chin length, in February. I really liked it, though I’ve been told it made me look young. “Yours is...”

“That’s OK, it’s just a bit boring today. You can always just compliment my butt or something.” She fluffed out her ponytail with a smile. “You’re just about finished school, yes?” She roundabouted on my laugh into that polite humoring conversing way adults do at teenagers. The kitchen smells hit me just past the back porch. It was divine.

“Um, yeah, just two more months of high school really.” My mouth watered.

“You get into the college you wanted?”

“Yeah, um, well, yeah,” I shrugged. “Dartmouth.”

“Wow, smart girl!” She grinned. “I bet you’re just following the track then? Zombie through the last classes. I remember senioritis. I skipped more of that final semester than I had in the twelve years before.”

“I’ve never skipped classes,” I blushed.

“That’ll make it easier to get away with. I was always getting into trouble back then.” She winked at me, “But, in my defense, Keith Radding had a car.”

“I don’t really hang out with anyone with a car.” There were a stack of cinnamon buns half on a cooling rack and half still on the cookie sheet. She slipped on her red wine themed oven mitts, grabbed her spatula and started moving the rest over.

“Michael’s got access to my Civic most afternoons,” she announced loftily. “But that’s neither here nor there, we were talking about you.”

“It’s a great topic, full of derring-do and adventure,” I joked.

“That’s what I like to hear!” She grinned and then needled, “So how are the parties this time of year? You got a boyfriend?”

“Not really much of a party girl.” I was feeling defensive even though I knew I didn’t have to be, “And I guess a few of my friends have been trying to set me up with someone for prom.”

“Let me guess, all the boys are either geeks or idiots.”

“I like geeks.” I rebutted.

“Ha!” She grinned. “I was into jocks. Football players, baseball players, hockey players, two swimmers and even a gymnast. Way too many jocks. Married a geek though.”

“Really?” I laughed. The more of a whore she hinted at having been, the sweeter she seemed.

“Sure,” she chuckled. She waved to her pile of baked goods. “Let them cool for a few minutes. They’re Michael’s favorite. Figured it was the only way to get him to stay close to home for an hour to catch up before he went chasing down his friends.”

“They smell so good.” I wasn’t a big fan of waiting.

“Thank you.” She set the cookie sheet into her empty dishwasher and dropped the oven mitts next to the sink.

“Um,” I thought for a second, looking to the basement stairs, “Does Michael have a girlfriend?”

“It hardly matters, Janet. In four months he’ll be heading upstate and you’ll be flying across the country,” Mrs Samms grin was too warm for that concept. She stage whispered at my ear, “Don’t worry about him having a girlfriend.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, frightfully disappointed. “I guess.”

“Four months, then you have to say good-bye,” She shook her head and looked me in the eyes, “You’d have the urgency to do whatever you could and none of the worries about way into the future.”

“But you said—about his girlfriend—I—What?”

“If he has a girlfriend,” she shrugged, “And I haven’t heard anything about one, that would be her problem. You’ve got four months. Wasting seconds would be your problem.”

“Are you saying?” I turned wide-eyed towards the basement stairs. Roger was saying something loudly but I couldn’t really make it out. I wrapped my arms around myself, “I couldn’t be like that.”

“Come over here, Janet,” She told and I stepped towards her. She picked my arms off my torso, “I have a feeling you’re the kind of girl who can be whatever she wants to be.”

“Thank you,” I figured was a proper response.

She lifted my chin. She tilted my head, looking at my eyes, my mouth and my skin. Mrs Samms settled her hand on my left shoulder and reached for my sweater’s zipper. I was horrified when she pulled it down.

“That’s a cute bra.” It was a lime green one with a bit of lacey scrolling on the cups.

“Thank you,” I blushed.

“But do you really need it?” She lifted her eyebrow. She smirked so full of herself. I moved my mouth silently, way before the words found me.

“Ah!” I scowled. She just waited looking me in the eye, “I, yes I need it. I’d be poking straight through the sweater without it.”

“Heaven forbid! Imagine what the boy would think of you?” She covered her mouth in faux-shock. She was laughing at me. I scowled and tugged my zipper back up.

“What if he thought I was, you know?” I was talking to a mom, I didn’t want to say slutty but it took me a breath or two to think of a more friendly word, “Easy?”

“In four months he gets on a bus and you get on a plane. Do you have time to be difficult?” I saw my toes.

“But—”

“You’ve been a good girl, right?”

“I guess.”

“And that’s got you into a great school,” she said with genuine pride. “But now you’re set for four months. Do you know what being a good girl is going to get you?”

“Um...”

“It’s going to get you through another unimpressive summer,” she warned me. “I was a bad girl. The worst girl. I made some of the greatest mistakes of my life when I was your age.”

“That sounds terrible,” I figured that was the right response.

“Well, I didn’t have your brains,” she shrugged. “If you don’t make any mistakes, you’re just going to be the good girl, in the good school, with no good stories.”

“OK, but—”

“You’re smart, you’re much prettier than you know,” she smirked.

“I mean, I guess I do look like Susan, but—”

“Susan didn’t look like you do when she was your age,” she laughed. “ If you follow in her footsteps you won’t just be breaking hearts, they’ll be piling up at your feet.”

“That’s a kind of a gross mental image,” I smirked.

“Really? What kind of shoes are you imagining?”

“Um, something strappy, spattered in blood from the still beating hearts,” I tried to chuckle.

“That’d look great on you,” she beamed. “Here you are. You’ve got four months. Think of all the things you haven’t tried. Do you drink?”

“No.”

“Smoke?”

“No!”

“Marijuana, we’ve already established you’re not an idiot,” she rolled her eyes.

“No.”

“OK, I was really into cigarettes and mushrooms at your age,” She grinned, “I wouldn’t recommend the cigarettes. Haven’t had one myself since the boys were born. I’m still quitting.”

“OK...” Was she telling me to do mushrooms? Where would I get mushrooms?

“Missing the point, don’t do drugs stupidly.” I guess I was wearing something beyond shock on my face. “I tried to find myself a torrid summer romance between high school and college but well, I wasn’t really someone’s idea of a summer long girlfriend.”

“That’s sad,” I frowned.

“It was, right after one boy and until right before the next,” she kept finding new ways to smile bigger. Handing off boyfriends all summer long? Oh my God! I couldn’t imagine. “But you’ve got a very different future spreading out in front of you. I think you’d be all set for a little romance.”

“Well, so long as it’s torrid,” I smirked.

“Now you’re catching on,” she grinned, “But, if you’re interested in Michael. You’re going to have to expect he doesn’t know what you’re thinking. Boys have this kind of brain where they don’t know you like them unless you tell them ‘I like you.’”

“Those idiots!” I laughed.

“Now he is my baby boy,” she warned me. “I want to protect from any of those horrible evil girls who only care about themselves.”

“Um,” I felt like the conversation has turned.

“I couldn’t imagine him with the kind of girl who might sneak in the back door that we leave unlocked at night and smuggle herself into his bedroom. The kind of girl who calls him up between high school classes promising to ditch school to go park somewhere secluded for a few hours. The kind of girl who’d go to the bathroom and ditch her bra under the towels so he’d see her poking through her little sweater knowing that she could literally control his every thought for the rest of the day. He’d be beside himself! It’s too much to imagine really. I don’t know what I’d do.” I was blushing at all of her absurd premises as she approached her purse on the kitchen table. She took out five twenties and laid them on the table. “That kind of girl would just take money off of her neighbor’s table and take her youngest boy down to The Clock for milkshakes to figure out if a great summer together is something he and she might want.”

She whistled as she turned away from the table at the sound of the oven beeping.

“But, uh,” I tried to catch up with her. I couldn’t believe an adult was talking to me like this. “I have the pirates, and they—”

“Oh, Janet!” There came that big smile. “It’s a beautiful sunny day. How about I watched Edward and Roger? I mean you’ve only got so many lazy Sunday afternoons left before you go off to college. It’ll give me a chance to catch up with Barbara when she gets home. We don’t talk enough, you know?”

“Dad’ll be home first.” I looked down at the bills on the table and reflexively fingered my bra strap. What the hell?

“Oh, Teddy? Maybe I’ll have my own torrid summer romance.”

“Mrs Samms!”

She smiled a beautifully sarcastic smile. I was thinking about all the things she had said. I wanted something I guess. And despite how over the top and beyond me everything she said was, she made it sound fun. I was certain I would chicken out, then I heard the boys step onto the basement stairs. I dashed to the bathroom.

Jesus, his mom is a worse perv than he is!

I can’t believe I did that. It must’ve been because of the wand.

Or, you liked the cute boy who stalked you in the woods.

Stalked me?

Oh, please! Don’t tell me you think he walked his dog into the woods just when you happened to go in with your brothers? Seriously, she’s the dumb one.

I prefer the badass.

Was this the light gray sweater with the frayed drawstring in the hood?

Yeah, that’s the one.

You poked through that! Your fucking nipples. If you could put them on her tits and onto her frame with my face. Wow.

Why’d you leave me out?

I’m not into feet.

That doesn’t happen, right? We don’t have some sort of Megazord form.

Megawhored.

And there goes her badass privileges. She’s now, officially, the dumb one.

I’m more than envious that Mrs Samms was cool though. I mean, she wasn’t like that for me when I was dating Trevor.

Dating? You were practically engaged.

Don’t remind me.

She hates all of you, you know.

Oh, yes we do.

“They’re nice boots,” Michael was still sucking on his burnt fingers as I ducked in and out of my front porch. I should’ve changed. Instead, I had thrown aside the mudcaked sneakers and grabbed knee high boots. All I needed was to run up to the bedroom. Clean shirt, nicer pants, complete shower, shave my legs, throw on some makeup, hire a butt double, cure cancer, start a colony on Mars. I knew I’d have stopped, paralyzed, at my closet worrying over which bottoms with which tops until I felt the need to scoop out my brains and put them in the trash where they belonged.

“Thanks,” I grinned, “Yours look heavy.”

“So where’d you want to go?” He was hard to read, passive. He did look at my tits again. Jesus Christ, some people’s mothers. Was I going to have to sneak my bra back from his place later? I had been worried about doing my calculus homework. Life changed quickly.

“There’s The Clock or the gas station,” Without a car, and Mrs Samms hadn’t offered her keys, we lived way too far from town to do anything, “Did you want to huff gas?”

“We’re on the same wavelength,” He laughed, “Scary.”

“Yep,” I grinned as we started down the hill, “I haven’t gotten milkshakes in forever.”

“I can see that. You’re doing a shit job at getting fat,” He grinned and I swiped happily at him. He slipped the wand out of his front pocket.

“You brought that?” The bag was up in his bedroom. The white orb was in my pocket.

“Yeah...” He scratched his scalp with it, “I’m an idiot, I guess.”

“Dunno,” I said with a deep breath, “I don’t mind playing Imperius Curse some more.”

“Right. Imperio!” He bopped my nose again. This time I saw stars. I grinned, “Go out with me.”

“Um,” I waved between us with my left hand and pointed down the street with my right, “Me, you, and milkshakes.”

“This thing is something, isn’t it?” He showed off the wand.

“Yeah,” I was very curious about it. I saw my white nails again, “Hey, can I tell you something?”

The subdivision we lived in was stuck off the highway. There weren’t sidewalks; we walked on the gravel shoulder, him at the asphalt and me at the grassy edge of the ditch. The roads were cracked and there were potholes every block or two. Most still filled with yesterday’s rain. Maintenance sucked. Snow plows sucked. The posted speed limits were 30 mph. Like every other car on the street, the Subaru was doing 60. There was a brown puddle right in front of us. I stuffed my hands in my sweater and threw my shoulders forward. This was going to be worse than the dog. Michael was oblivious. He was looking at my sweater again.

“Sure, anything,” He said just before the Subaru’s wheel raised a sheet of brown water. My nails dug into the orb.

I leapt, throwing my shield up onto my right shoulder and throwing Michael onto someone’s lawn. My skirt fluttered as I twisted. I landed, sandals down and spear point dragging up the sod, right next to where Michael belly flopped face first. The muddy water splashed harmlessly down on the shoulder. The Subaru veered crazily and pulled to a stop in front of the next driveway.

“Jan?” He looked up with a gobsmacked face, “What the hell are you wearing?”

I had flashed into what we’ve started calling the princess kit. The helmet would scare me later. I saw the torn up lawn beneath my sandals. Hey, my toenails were painted white too! I had left my socks on Mrs Samms radiator, shit. I heard the Subaru door open. Michael was nearly up on one knee. I slung the spear behind my back, knowing it would catch in a loop sheathe. I grabbed his left arm, yanked him up and started running as the Subaru’s driver side door opened.

I don’t know why we ran. I was confused more than anything. I just bolted and took him with me. The yard we were in was on a hill. I had sledded down it tons of times years before. The driveway was empty and Mr Leonard lived alone. I felt so bad about the gouge in his lawn. He kept it so nice. He had a free standing garage at the top of the asphalt. It had old cream colored siding on it whereas his house was a newer sky blue. We stopped behind the garage. Michael was panting and tired from the sprint. I was energized.

“What the hell?” He reached up and teased the coronet in my hair, “Do you have any idea what you’re wearing?”

I didn’t, but I checked myself out. I was not dressed for beginning of spring weather. Winter was still hanging on tooth and nail, even if it had clearly lost the battle. It wasn’t time for a short white dress. It was almost light cotton, nearly see through. It started on my shoulders, with very short sleeves and a low cut down to my breasts. It fell into a very loose skirt that hung a couple of inches above my knees.

I was wearing a corset, hard brown leather, over the dress. Four plates cinched tightly around my guts and laced together on my sides and up my spine. The laces were the same fabric and color as my dress. Hard enamel clasps, also the color of the dress, ran up the front of my stomach and held the whole thing closed. My tits were uplifted, way bigger than they had any right pretending to be. Yet, despite the squeeze around my waist, I still felt like I could move, or run, or anything.

I had on sandals, my boots and jeans long gone. I had washed away the tree sap in Mrs Samms’s bathroom but I had still felt a bit icky. Now, I had bare legs and they felt pristine. The sandals were flat hard leather soles with thick bands right behind my toes, over my ankle, and backing my heel. Crisscrossing thongs of leather climbed my calves right up to my knee where they were tied off inside and outside my legs.

My upper arms were decorated in leather bracelets. They were the same brown as the sandals and bodice, but were laced closed on the inside of my arms.

In my hair was the tiara, a laurel of white leaves. I couldn’t pull it out, because my hair was styled around it. It felt delicate but rigid and was made from the same hard material as the clasps on my corset. The leaves were dull and smooth, with the intricate veins rising out of each blade.

I carried, hanging off my left shoulder, a wide round shield. It was made of the same wood as the wand in Michael’s hand. A wide white enamel circle, just like my tiara, just like my corset clasps, just like the circle on his wand, just like the ball, covered most of the shield’s face. A rim two inches all around the enamel face showed off the wooden back. It could cover me from my chin to my knees.

Finally, there was my spear. A javelin, as Venus has said, but I didn’t know yet how perfectly I could throw it. I didn’t realize it was only a short spear. It seemed gigantic in my hand. Its haft was the same wood from the eight inch white spike at its foot to the sixteen inch long blade at its head. Two enamel grips adorned the shaft, one in the dead center and one much closer to the bottom spike. It was crazy sharp, a gentle wave cut Mr Leonard’s lawn down to the soil. I quickly leaned it against the garage and took two steps away from it and towards Michael.

“You look like a... An Amazon,” Michael drank me in over and over again, caught in between awe, disbelief and excitement.

“First ever five foot three girl to be called an Amazon,” I laughed, I reached for my pocket where I had stashed the orb. My hand slid over my belly. It was gone, all of my clothes, the money in my jeans, my phone, all of it was nowhere. I covered my mouth and bit the bottom knuckle on my ring finger. It stopped me from screaming.

“Well, some sort of Greek goddess anyways,” He touched my hair again, over the coronet, that was threaded over and under my new style. My hair had been plaited in four braids and tied back tightly behind my neck. My bangs were still loose, hanging over and framing my cheeks. He stroked the left half back over my ear. I shivered, “When I touched you with the wand,” He waved in his other hand, “That’s when this happened.” His thumbnail was pressed against the white loop near the bottom, “I hadn’t missed it.”

“By the river, when I shrieked—” I tried to tell him.

“Squealed,” He corrected. I glared at him but he just smiled more broadly.

“I shrieked,” And I wasn’t happy with that verb, “The white orb had painted my fingernails white.”

“We’re calling them orbs now?” He laughed and then stopped quickly. He scrunched his fingers up and turned the nails, palms up to his face. He sighed relief but looked dejected, “Nothing, and I had touched at least two of the balls...orbs.”

“Maybe it’s different for girls and guys?” I murmured, making the only correct guess I would that day.

“Yeah,” He touched my nose again with the wand. I smiled so hard. It felt like my brain was bubbling in soda. The light in my eyes faded, “What do you think this does?”

He flicked it up and I stood taller. He spun it around and I twirled. He wasn’t laughing with me this time. The skirt floated back down to my knees while he stared.

“What?” I frowned.

“You’re not wearing any underwear.” He grinned. I shrieked, quietly, I was biting my lip after all. It certainly wasn’t a squeal. I crashed down, knees first, into the grass, holding the front of my skirt tightly over my crotch.

“Adorable,” He grinned leaning forward over me, “You’re a spaz, Jan.”

“I—” looked up and he bopped me on the nose.

Yeah, if I could add one thing to the uniform it’d be panties. I have flashed so many people and I haven’t a bead to show for it.

I thought they gave those out at Mardi Gras for tits?

Not me. Free the clit, am I right?

I’m down for the free the nipple campaign, only I’m pretty sure we’re allowed to be topless in town if we dared. Free the clit? Might be a bridge too far.

I think you got most of it right, Minnie, but you forgot about the earrings.

Right, I also had a single little stud in each ear, in my color. Made of the same hard substance on my shield and armor straps. Happy?

I’m not unha—

If we could change the costume, I’d put some designs on the leather. The obvious would be shredded abs. For the warrior kit, I mean, not on the corset. I’d also like something on my bracers. Maybe thorns? And that bland white plate on your shield needs some pizzazz. Like a falcon.

I’m not really a falcon kind of girl.

Yeah, but a pair of glasses and a pocket protector would make a shit coat of arms.

What about a lion? That’d be on point. Plus, with the mane it’d be round and fit the shield better.

I think Venus Red’s shoulder clasps should be roses.

Oh, God, so cliche. It’s worse than Minnie’s lion.

Minerva’s the god of wisdom, she should have an owl.

That’s actually a good idea.

Looks like I’m really bad at being the dumb one. I’m going back to the badass.

We’ll table that for now. How about Minerva here hurries up her story?

Hey, maybe a lantern? You know, like I’m illuminating the—

We’re not changing the damned uniforms. Seriously, you know what they say, if wishes were horses we wouldn’t need vibrators.

Oh, gross, you might fuck a horse but—

I meant from riding the horse. It feels really good. Especially if you lean forward against the saddle while she’s running.

She. No surprise.

Wait, do you have a horse? You have to take us to see her!

I think we’re in the middle of something. Min? Please.

Right, no more distractions.

We can always dream.

I slammed Michael against the back wall of Mr Leonard’s garage. He was shocked and grinning. Michael was. Mr Leonard wasn’t home. I shouldn’t have kicked that foothold in the aluminum siding. I’m almost a foot shorter than Michael. I needed to climb up there to kiss him. He grabbed my other leg, I basically fell on his chest. I could’ve torn his shirt to shreds.

I kissed him. I. Kissed. Him. I held him behind both of his ears. I wasn’t prepared for what I was doing. I wasn’t risking quitting either. He opened his mouth; I felt his tongue running over my lower lip. I let him in. I tried to at least. Impatience overwhelmed me and I shoved his tongue back into his mouth with my own.

When he grabbed my ass with both hands, I realized something. Something important.

“Michael!” I gasped, breathing through his chewed lip.

“Jan? Should we stop?” He lifted me higher. His fingers were right next to my sex. I was blushing worse than I might’ve ever done before.

“I like you,” I told him, “I want to be your girlfriend, or whatever.”

“Um,” He smiled, “Clearly not. You escort me to where there’s milkshakes and that’s it.”

“What?” I was seriously going to cry. He shushed me. He smiled. I saw he was kidding.

“I like you too, Janet, uh, Middle Name Drake,” He kissed my lips. I hadn’t known they were shaking.

“Annabelle.”

“I like you Janet Annabelle Drake,” He nodded, “You’re an incredible girl.”

“I like you Michael Cornelius Samms,” He raised his eyebrow as I giggled, “You’re holding my butt.”

“Yeah, I was looking for treasure,” He grinned and I pulled his face into mine so we could kiss again. This time I let him play too. Our tongues swirled over each other. His teeth tasted different than mine. I giggled as his finger slid along my pussy.

“Hey?” He smirked and leaned his forehead against mine.

“Hey,” I grinned. His fingers ran over me again. I sighed a warm breath, “I like you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” He smirked.

“Good,” We kissed again. His fingers teased me, just skating on either side of me as we made out. I ran my left hand down his chest. He slapped his hand over my fingers. One hand gripping my ass, one foot kicked through siding and gyprock. I let go of his lips, “Maybe we should move this to the grass?”

“Maybe we should.” He squeezed my ass tightly, letting go of my fingers to hold my hip. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He rushed us over to the grass. I hopped off of him and sunk down onto my knees. I grabbed his belt and pulled it open.

“Yeah!” He grinned. He undid the button, I pulled down the zipper. I smiled way up at him, “You’re, um, wow, you’re going to be the first girl to see me like this.”

“Really?” I beamed as I ran my hand over his boxers. I skated around the big tent of his cock.

“Yeah, I had this thing for blind girls,” He smirked.

“You have most kissable face for any blind girl,” I grinned.

“Oh, that’s not nice,” He brushed aside my hair.

“Yeah?” I let the side of my hand glide around him this time. I was so close and this was so incredible and we were in the backyard of some random guy’s house. What the fuck? “Lucky for you then. Nice girls don’t give 587 blowjobs.”

I reached up and slipped both hands into the waistband of his boxers. I didn’t breathe until I saw him. He was, crap, holy shit...

“Jan?” He teased a finger around the edge of my ear.

“Michael?” I snapped up as I touched the tips of my fingers along the sides of his cock. He fingered my diadem, impatient to push my head forward. I felt bad; I shouldn’t be hesitating like this. I started with a kiss. He twitched. I smiled as I ran my fingertips back down him. I was being a coward, I told myself. I reached my left hand to grab him by the base. I kept flicking my eyes up. He gaped, smiling with his mouth almost too wide to turn up at the corners. I licked outside my lips, I just teased him, just tasted him. Wow.

“You’re incredible, Jan,” He told me, “You’re beautiful.”

I kept myself from saying “You taste funny.” I tried, slowly pumping my left hand, to open my mouth, but I flinched four times in a row. I closed my eyes, shutting away his face. I just needed to—I felt him pushing past my lips. I smiled around him. I licked him, quickly, uncertainly, rubbing my tongue under the head of this dick. He was pushing my lips widely open. I felt too small. I touched him with my teeth and he shuddered. He slid back out to rest against my lips. I went forward this time. I put a dick in my mouth. I couldn’t get to my fingers before I had to stop. He pushed, wanting me to go further but I slipped back.

“That’s—” He hunched, grabbing my shoulders and slipping me off of him, “More?”

“Yes!” I nodded and let him lay me back onto the grass. The earth was warmed by the afternoon sun. Michael knelt around my feet, my heels were pushed against my butt, he was rolling my skirt up. I bit inside my cheek. I tried to wiggle my feet further open. It was like I had to tell myself thirty times not to close my legs like a mousetrap.

“How do you feel?” His finger slipped as he touched my pussy. I rose up on my elbows. I swallowed air before I spoke.

“I feel ready,” I admitted and I tingled under my skin as he stroked up and down. I could see myself. I was—I cut a lot of what was down their away, but I hadn’t been shaving it all off. I was bare. I hadn’t shaved my legs. They were clear too. I reached and touched my eyebrows and was surprised and relieved to find they were still there.

“OK,” He nodded. His fingers were searching. I felt him hook a knuckle into me. I gasped. I smiled, “Tell me if there’s something I need to do.”

“Stop wasting seconds.” I pushed my butt forward and pivoted my feet further to either side. He nodded. He reached down, he grabbed my ass again. I liked being a handful of flesh. I raised up on my toes, as he grabbed his cock. He was aiming. I wasn’t helping. I didn’t know what I should’ve been doing. I fingered my collar of my dress. I had a handful of grass. He settled his cock against my pussy. Like when I laid my lips against him. I let go of my shoulder and grabbed his t-shirt. He shed his uncertain moue and grinned.

I squealed that time. I have no defense for the sounds I made when his dick kept pushing and pushing and pushing into me. There felt like there were six miles of it. I had my eyes squeezed closed. I felt so full, like he was going to displace my stomach, punch through my lung, and bang the back of my teeth. I mouthed, gummed, wordless swear words as he grunted out one long breath. He was over me. He was tapping my cheek. I fluttered my eyes open. He wasn’t moving any deeper.

I think he wanted to say something but if it was in his mouth I slapped the words aside with my tongue and tried to eat them. I shot my hand up from the grass and grabbed his shoulder. I kicked my hips. He started moving.

It was great. I had heard horror stories and I wanted to rub in all of my girlfriends’ faces that I wasn’t going to have one. Fuck you Lira! Fuck you Casey! Ha! I was having good sex. I bit his lip. He wasn’t going fast yet. I dug in my heel, right behind his knee. He grabbed the top of the bodice, his fingers dug in the cleavage of my tits. He was pulling me up and down his dick. He was swinging his hips. I wanted to help. I was just squeezing my asscheeks, trying to grip him. His lips flung out of mine. Our kiss had been sloppy and I felt his spittle peppering my nose and cheeks. I squealed.

“Jan? Holy Christ Jan!” He murmured.

“Oh God! Michael!” I reverberated. Neither of us were religious but I wasn’t feeling “Fucking hell! Slam my filthy cunt! I live for your cock!” I was reverent. I was excited.

“You feel so good inside,” He gasped. He was breathing way harder than I was. I was wracked with little tremors. They struck from the insides and lips of my pussy. I rocked, from shoulder to shoulder, with every thrust. I tried to kiss him a few more times but I kept missing. I wanted to pitch his shirt away but I couldn’t imagine how to get rid of it. He heaved and scowled. I’d have thought it was funny, the way his face contorted, had I had full thoughts at that moment. I chewed on his chin. I slapped my hand onto his hip. One of my legs kicked and spasmed out to my side.

I sometimes masturbated. I didn’t cum. I had been too good a girl. I had no stories. I had no idea how this could be a story. Who could I tell? I felt something. I wanted more. I had memories, riding the teacups, at the fair years ago. Something familiar was in me. I couldn’t articulate it. I couldn’t deny it.

“Michael, it feels awesome!” I gulped air as I tried to speak.

“Yes!” He nodded, his forehead was slick with sweat and I felt him against my bangs. I tightened my hands into his shirt. I let him stretch out, I was practically enveloped by all of him. I licked at his throat. I wasn’t speaking.

I squeezed him. I thrashed. My feet were reaching skyward and grass was tickling my asshole. I twisted my head to the side, my chin into my shoulder. My eyes hammered shut. I saw white light.

Cumming is not something I was ever going without ever again. I felt incredible. I couldn’t differentiate from the kicking in my stomach to the curling of my toes. My tongue tried to stretch out of my mouth but my teeth were locked shut.

“Jan?” He muttered as he slipped his cock out of me. I screamed a wordless “No!” Hot slick cum spattered my left thigh and onto my hip. He jacked himself off. His knuckles rubbing up and down on my clit. I was hit again, blindsided. I opened my eyes as well as my mouth. He was staring down into my soul. He teased my hair as he made a mess over my pussy.

“Michael,” I licked my lips. My throat had croaked as I said his name. I reached for him. He took my hand. His slick fingers let streaks of cum run down the back of my hand. He squirreled over my thigh and wiggled in tightly against me. I leaned over and we kissed. I couldn’t stop smiling. I stretched out my legs, my jeans wiggled through the grass. He lifted up the string of my hoodie. We didn’t say anything. We kissed again. I snuggled my head against his chest and closed my eyes.

I looked up. Staring into the cold April sky. I reached for his hand and we tangled up our fingers. He kissed my neck and cuddled in against me.

“Wow,” He said.

“Uh huh,” I didn’t trust words. I leaned over to his face and got another bop on the nose.

“Good girl.”

That was highly detailed.

His middle name’s not Cornelius, right? That’d be fucked.

No, it’s—Oh my fuck! Diana? Transform back. Now! Or at least pull your skirt back down, please.

Don’t shame me. I was wearing shorts. I didn’t want them to get soaked.

That got you soaked?

It was hot, right?

It was sweet, maybe.

It sounded way better than my first time.

Well, obviously, there weren’t any clowns.

Yeah, but I guess I have a higher threshold for hot these days. You two remember Klaus Street, right? Holy shit, in the rain. There was—

Alright, shut up. Let me continue. We still have to talk about The Clock and—

Fuck that.

What?

C’mon, you know I have to tell that shit. You’re not going to cover just how much of a bitch you were. No one trusts you with that shit show.

Seriously, she called me afterwards. She was in tears.

I wasn’t that bad.

OK, she was in swears.

Fuck yeah, I was.

So then what?

Uh, that first attack?

I can only imagine what you did before his birthday. How many did you fight?

Three. But I mean, two fights.

She fought that shit alone? Why is Diana the badass?

I didn’t let go of his fingers until he walked me to my driveway. Mom and Dad’s cars were home. I realized I was going to have to go in. I had wanted to get my bra and socks back from his place but I gleefully remembered stories of an unlocked back door. I kissed him. He stroked my hair and kissed me. I finally let go. I looked back three times by the time I got in my door.

“Jan, you’re home,” Mom was sitting in the living room as I pulled off my boots. I frowned.

“Yep, that happens sometimes,” I combatted flippantly.

“Ann told me you and—You wore that? On a date with Michael?”

“No,” I smirked, “Not for the whole date.”

“Jesus, Janet!” Mom pinched her nose.

“Hey is that my favorite girl in the whole wide world?” I heard dad’s voice from the kitchen and was about to answer.

“No, Teddy. Our Janet’s been replaced by a body snatcher...” Mom growled.

“Bound to happen sooner or later,” Dad joked back, “Do you remember when they’re coming for Eddie?”

“Hey!” My brother laughed. I smiled. I figured I’d run to the washroom and head to the kitchen to make a nuisance of myself while dad finished up dinner. I moved to step past mom. She stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

“I have to talk to your daughter. Put her plate in the oven,” Mom shouted into the kitchen.

“Will do, boss,” Dad replied and I was force-marched up the stairs. Our house, like many in the topside of the subdivision, was two stories tall. Closer to the highway, people had bigger yards but smaller three bedroom bungalows. We had four rooms upstairs, mine, the pirates’, mom and dad’s, and Susan’s old room. Mom led me right into mine. I flopped down on the foot of my bed. She went straight to my dresser.

“You’ve been taking these?” She declared pulling my pills out from under my socks. I went red, angry.

“Yeah,” I grumped. I hadn’t thought about birth control all day but quickly put the worry out of my mind. I took my pills since I played fullback on the middle school soccer team.

“This is your life, Janet!” Mom hissed. She was breathing very deliberately, “Fine, there’s one in your favor. But, Jesus, why did you go out wearing that ratty old sweater and those disgusting jeans? Do you have any respect for yourself? For Michael?”

“He didn’t care,” I muttered.

“So that means you don’t either!” She scowled, “And, what? You’re not even wearing a bra! Of course he didn’t care! He’s a teenager, Janet!”

“So am I. It’s not like I didn’t want anything that happened. I liked it.”

“Of course you did,” She forced herself to smile but she had clenched teeth, “Michael’s a great kid, I’m not upset with you for going out with him. I’m not upset with you for having fun. I thought I could expect you to act better about this. I’m upset with you for how you’re going about things. You’re young, you haven’t dated a whole lot. It can be dangerous, if you just feed his sex drive, you won’t get to know him well enough for anything else. You’re an adult now, you can make decisions and I will back them. There needs to be way more to any relationship than sex. So just, just don’t be easy.”

She was clearly misstating what she was trying to tell me.

“Gotcha,” I smirked, “I’ll be difficult.”

“Fuck!” I had never heard my mom curse before. I felt proud. She was caught somewhere between minute pride and infinite frustration, “Obviously, being difficult is your new talent.”

“OK, so we’re—”

But we weren’t done. She marched over to my closet and rolled open the slatted doors. She turned and was constructing some horrible image in her brain, “Are you going to be seeing Michael again?”

“Yes,” I stated, confident she couldn’t stop me, so why pretend to sate whatever worries she had, “We’ve got a whole four months to enjoy ourselves.”

“Christ,” She was ripping through my shirts, “Well, then you better put in the Goddamned work. You have to take care of yourself.”

“He takes care of me good,” I declared just to watch her twitch.

“OK, fine,” She turned around, “Janet, have your summer fling with the boy next door. It’ll hopefully do you some good. Please treat yourself better. Treat him better.”

“Oh, I plan to,” I masked my glee. She was getting red faced.

“It is impossible to talk to you like this,” She scowled, “You’re dressed like a hobo. Your breasts are halfway through your rags. You’re all fucking mouth. For Christ’s sake.”

My phone buzzed and I reached into my pocket on reflex. She sneered. There was a text from Michael. “Hey Goddess, do you want to try another orb?” I really didn’t. I looked up at mom. I wasn’t going to share that.

“We’re talking Janet,” She crossed her arms across her chest. Her impatient furrow just seemed to amuse me, “You know how rude that is.”

“Can I go eat supper now?”

“Promise me you’ll think about what you’re doing,” She demanded of me, “I don’t want you sending him sex pictures. Those’ll be around forever.”

“I’ll send him what I want,” I was 18. My decision.

“Be smart!” She stomped to my door, “And if you want to set him off, you don’t have to bash him over your head with your tits. Dust off one of your skirts. Drake women have great legs.”

“Aren’t you a Jamison?” I sliced down her little brag. My heart fluttered. I enjoyed the snark.

“Don’t come down for dinner until you’ve put your mouth away,” She slammed my door hard behind her. That was so easy. I threw off my sweater and shoved my jeans down. My panties were white, good. I caught myself in the mirror; I raised my camera, arching my back and straightening my posture. With my nipple flanked by two white painted nails, I texted back: “No, I look great in white.”

Boring! Why aren’t we jumping to midnight?

What? And miss out on this riveting tale of how Minnie was sent to her room without dinner!

Was there a Goddess of bitchiness? Of sarcasm? I think we picked the wrong name for Eris.

I thought we wanted to tell the story of what happened, is happening, to us? It wasn’t just a change of clothes, after all.

But why do we care that you were a bitch to your mom? She was meddling and hyperparenting; she deserved a bit of bitchiness.

You call that hyperparenting? Were you never hugged as a child?

Get off of me and die.

What?

Not you, she means for me to get myself murdered.

Sure thing. Anyway, I think we care for the same reason why we care that she was a twat to me. Or why Venus’s all Leslie Nielsen in Airplane.

I picked a hell of a week to stop sniffing glue.

Wrong actor.

Wait! I get it! This is all an excuse to use her orb to explain the dumb one’s dumminess!

It better explains the dumb one’s badassery.

No, I was always the badass. Always will be.

Well what about me?

I don’t know, you’ve been doing this for what? Like four days? How do you feel you’re acting differently?

Besides tanking a nine year relationship, fighting monsters, transforming into a superhero princess Goddess, or letting Juno rub against me like she’s a cat in heat?

Kinda, yeah?

No! She can tell her bit when we get to her. Let’s have Min finish her story up. I, for one, am not going to take so long to get to the point.

What is the point?

Is there a point?

Why don’t we just tell each other’s smut stories? I think we’re all anxious to hear how Diana flipped that fire truck.

Great... Feed into her ridiculousness. Diana, are you ever going to roll your skirt back down?

Why? Am I making you hungry?

Ugh... I’d rather eat pomegranate.

Oh! Thank you! But, it’s not mutual. I’ll stick to the dumb one, OK?

And victory was mine.

11 pm drew nearer and I hadn’t eaten. Dad knocked on my open door and said good night. Mom stormed by. I laid on my coverlet wiggling my toes back and forth.

“Say good night to Michael, sweetheart,” Dad wore a slight frown to see my phone still in my hands, “You’ve got school in the morning.”

“Night,” I smiled at Dad and he walked on to his room. The pirates were down. Dad’s door closed. My phone buzzed in my hand.

“Good night! See you tomorrow?”

“Unless you go blind.” I typed back. I swung my legs out of bed. I slipped over to my closet. The roll of the door as it folded back seemed to shriek out in the night. I was petrified for a few minutes but I heard nothing moving around the house. Give a shit what I wear? OK, mom, I will. I ditched my pajamas. Fluffy, flannel, sky blue, button up pajamas. Super comfy. Not sneak across the backyard to ravish my new boytoy clothes though. I smiled, knowing that listening to mom would piss her off. I didn’t listen to my phone. It claimed to be 38 degrees out.

I wanted something white, but my options were way too prudish. I picked the dark blue nightie instead. It’s semi transparent hem at least stopped on my thighs. I was going to need to buy some thongs. I unearthed a cute pair of bikini bottoms that were near enough in color. I was going to need a bunch of stuff.

Makeup. I stared into my mirror for probably 10 minutes before I made a decision. I stopped myself from full on whoring up. I needed a slut’s advice before I went crazy. I wondered if I should ask Casey? Maybe I’d ambush Maeve. I applied my lip gloss, wondering for another couple of minutes about whether Michael would prefer the strawberry or the peach. Strawberry. I almost wiped my mouth and grabbed the peach. Just get it done, Jan. Eyeshadow? I wiped that away. Lip gloss would do. I touched my hair. I had showered and brushed it, anything more was a seven hour quagmire I was way too impatient to get into. I double checked my phone, quarter to midnight.

I grabbed my orb. I sneaked down the stairs in bare feet. Everything was louder this late at night. Normally, I hardly even heard feet moving around in the house. I touched down in the living room.

“Hey Jan,” I nearly jumped out of my skin to see my brother in the kitchen doorway. He looked smug in his Spider-Man pajamas. He sipped from a glass of water.

“What are you doing awake?” I hissed at Eddie.

“Not dying of thirst,” He rolled his eyes and took another sip of his water, “Why are you dressed like Valentine’s Day mom?”

Ew.

“Go to bed.” I told him.

“Jesus, fine,” He had been staring at the orb, “Good night, nipply.”

I scowled him to the stairs as I covered my arms across my chest. I took a deep breath. I waited until I heard the house sleeping. I slipped my bare feet into already tied sneakers. I pulled on my MMS Soccer windbreaker, embarrassed that it still fit, and shoved the orb into the pocket. I hurried through to the back door and stepped out into the night.

I shivered, but I hopped the fence between our yards. Trapper wasn’t in his doghouse. The motion lights didn’t turn on. I wouldn’t even have noticed them had the moon not caught the glass. I froze. My heart was hammering. I approached the back door. It was unlocked. She had said it would be. I was almost hoping it wouldn’t be. I closed the door behind me and it creaked. My stomach was doing somersaults. Trapper looked up from the porch floor.

“Hey boy,” I let him sniff my fingers but he insisted on my crotch. He yawned and laid back down. I scratched behind his ears. My socks weren’t on the radiator. I frowned. I did have another of each.

I went straight for the stairs. They were way creakier than the ones at my house. I stopped, frozen, three times. The Samms home was slimmer than ours. There were only three rooms, including the bathroom, upstairs. All the doors were closed. I lifted my phone, 11:58. The light was on under the leftmost door but I wasn’t certain.

“It’s tomorrow in another time zone. Which door is yours?”

Left door opened and he was staring. I tried to pose and to smile. He stepped out grabbed my hand and dragged me into his room. He shut his door.

“Jan?” He whispered. Mom had been right; Drake legs worked wonders. I just wished I was at least as tall as my sister. He tilted his grin, “Hi.”

“Hi.” I smirked.

“Just a sec,” He rushed over to his computer desk and hammered out a pair of gtg’s.

His room had obviously been shared with his older brother some years ago. The far bed almost looked dusty. His bed was a short twin, I wished I could’ve smuggled him into my room: queen sized, lots of pillows, two stuffed giraffes and Pennyworth the walrus. His walls were painted green and plastered with Sci-Fi movie posters, and a giant Uma Thurman Pulp Fiction poster on the left wall. He had bookshelves full of paperbacks and anime figurines. His room was clean, his bed was made. I was happy, I couldn’t stand a mess. It struck me that this was his first night home in months. I’d have to withhold my judgment for a few days as there were already two glasses and a plate full of crumbs next to his laptop. I slipped off my jacket and hung it on the foot of his bed. I saw the leather backpack hanging next to his reading lamp. He was talking to my tits, “Hey, babe. You look great.”

“I try,” I shrugged and brightly smiled, “You look good enough to eat.”

“Yeah?” He was excited and then made sure to speak more quietly, “Needed a late night snack?”

“Damned straight. And I still have five hundred and eighty six to get.”

“What?” He smirked, “We agreed on five eighty seven.”

“What about behind Mr Leonard’s?”

“That was a little foreplay,” He shrugged, “You started one but you’ve never finished a blowjob yet.”

“Oh really?” I giggled, “Why do I feel like the Genie after Aladdin got out of the Cave of Wonders?”

“Your beard?” He tickled my chin. I defend my action to smack his wrist. I grabbed his hands and walked him over to the bed.

“Just for that,” I pushed his chest with both hands as he hopped up and fell obliquely across his comforter, “You’re not getting pussy.”

“We’ll see,” He smirked.

I was surprised with myself. I was proud of myself. I was tingly over myself. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants and a Mega Man t-shirt. He could keep the t-shirt. I grabbed his pants and dragged them down with the underwear underneath.

I was terrified. I had had him in my mouth less than eight hours ago. I had been excited. I had been changed. I had been protected. Impulses raced through me; sensations erupted in ripples from the tip of my nose, under my chin or the skin of my arm. His cock rose up.

“Do you want me to get the light?” He worried as I knelt down at the edge of his bed. I slipped my fingers over his cock.

“No,” I shook my head against my judgment. I was terrified that he was looking right into my eyes. I smiled as broadly as I could, “I don’t want to miss this.”

I didn’t know my hands looked that small. He stiffened against my palm. I glided up and down. I had felt this monster spearing into me, impaling me. Knowing what he felt like, he looked bigger. I brought my face in, forcing a confident smirk as I looked up into his eyes.

He touched my hair as I started with my breath. He shuddered in my hand. My lips touched him. Just a peck. The ripples echoed again. I opened my mouth. I was slow to begin, running my lips around the head, slowly making out with his cock. His fingers lightly ran my bangs to my ears, the same gesture he had made around my summoned tiara. I pressed my tongue against him.

“Wow, Jan!” He huffed and then quieted.

“I read some how tos,” I admitted before swirling my tongue around the ridge of his foreskin. I was 100% nervous, 110% uncertain. I pushed forward.

I don’t think my mouth was built for a man like Michael. His fingers circled the rims of my ears as I corkscrewed my lips and tongue around the head of his cock. The taste changed, being at first warm and fleshy, before he beaded onto my tongue. I convinced myself I liked the taste, fighting thought against sensation. I rolled my tongue over him and swallowed down his foreshadowing.

His fingers tightened in my hair. He had my skull in the palms of his hand. He lifted his hips. I don’t think I was prepared to take him deeper; I was working up to it. His huffing rushed me. His hands rushed me. His thrusts rushed me.

“Oh, shit, yeah,” He murmured, “Your tongue is... Oh Christ...”

I had to smile around him. He was half in, half out of my mouth. I tried to slalom my tongue against the bottom of his shaft. The softer, bulging, bottom squeezed my tongue down into my mouth. I flinched, pulling my teeth back as I accidentally roughed him. My open mouth with tightened lips was rushed further down his cock.

He punched in the back of the throat. I coughed. I sputtered. I drooled. He held me down me so tightly. I let go of his cock and slapped my hands down on his thighs. He let me pull back as I coughed again. My mouth was horribly full of spit.

“You look cute as you turn red,” He smirked and groaned. I smiled back. He pulled me back down.

I was still trying to pamper him with my tongue. I sucked and collapsed my cheeks against him. I held my teeth back. I lost control. He had me. He held my head. He stroked my hair. He dragged me down.

I was laughing as I was coughing. Michael’s thumbs dragged away the tears stuck in my eyes. I was glad I hadn’t gone with the eye makeup. He was trying to watch me but he kept falling back onto his shoulders and closing his eyes. He’d sit back up and I’d look Mega Man in his 8-bit eyes. I was rubbing his thighs, trying to find his pulse. There was a heartbeat against my tongue, disrupted by the punching thrusts. Spit sloughed all over him. It was rough yet he never went too deep, never too hard.

“Jan? Jan?” He blubbered, falling back faster and raising his head with more difficulty.

I tried to ask “Yes?” but I wasn’t getting any sound out besides gargles, grunts and moans. I had felt a clenching tightness in his legs. I had felt an energetic hurry in my mouth. I didn’t see it coming.

He gripped my skull tighter and pressed harder against the entrance of my throat. I flailed, coughing. I was a mess. He erupted at the back of my throat.

Michael had a lot of cock. Michael had a lot of cum. I was shocked, twisting my head probably helped him as the splashback ran down the sides of my teeth. His mess pooled under the edges of my tongue. His grip changed. His hands were slightly sweaty and he tossed around my hair. I slid back, mouth still loaded with cum and too much saliva. His weeping dick ran stickily against my chin before falling onto his thigh.

“Yeah,” He grinned until he looked worried, “Holy hell, Jan!”

I shushed him and he quickly looked to his door before he started quietly chuckling. He rose up and slid off the bed. I pulled back from the kiss but he knelt on either side of my thighs and hugged me. He nibbled my ear.

“Gwet ma phoun,” I rolled my jaw as I talked. He slipped back.

“Your phone?” He raised an eyebrow. I nodded. He sidled off me and picked my windbreaker off the far corner of his bed. He lifted out the orb, smiled, laid it where his butt had sweated. Every inch of my skin felt like concrete while he had held it. He picked my phone out of the other pocket.

“Why do you need—”

He just watched with shock was I turned on my selfie camera. I opened my mouth, letting the mess run over my lips and stick to my chin as the flash burned. It was a wet picture. My lips were shining in spit. My eyes and cheeks were running with tears. Sweat stuck in my bangs. There was cum caked on my teeth. I smiled as big as I could open mouthed. I looked towards him. He stepped across the room and picked a box of Kleenex from the desk. I closed my lips. I swallowed.

“Now we’ll have the real count,” I waggled my phone to celebrate a happy empty mouth. I hadn’t known if I could let him cum in my mouth, whether I’d swallow. It had been a hard for me. I knew my girlfriends did it under duress but I didn’t want to be that kind of girl. I sucked his dick, for him sure, but for me too. The tingles in my skin rippled congratulatorily. I opened my mouth as he knelt down and wiped off the waste still stuck to my face.

“Is it your turn now?” He waggled his eyebrows and smiled but I could see he was floating in post coital sleepiness. He let me lean forward and kiss him. He didn’t put his tongue in my mouth and I didn’t force mine into his.

“No,” I brushed his hair like he had brushed mine. I stood up and moved my orb to the foot of his bed, “Your mom said you’ll have your car tomorrow?”

“I’ll pick you up after school,” He nodded. I helped him back into his boxers but he left his pajama pants on the floor.

“Maybe after lunch?” I suggest hopefully. He smiled.

“Text me,” He leaned down and kissed me again. We climbed to our feet and I led him to his bed. He laughed as I dragged up his bedclothes and tucked him in. My orb sat between his feet. I squeezed both bumps of toes before picking my orb up.

“See you tomorrow, boyfriend,” I was almost on fire as I dropped the BF label.

“It’s already tomorrow, girlfriend,” He yawned easily. I picked up my windbreaker and replaced my phone and orb in the pockets.

“Good, I didn’t want to wait that long,” I slipped quietly out his bedroom door and flicked off his light as I left.

Aw... So sweet...

Diabetic even.

If only he liked missionary sex as rough as blowjobs.

You take pictures of every blowjob you give him?

Every one I finish. Hey! That’s my phone!

Yeah, what’s the password?

Give it back!

It’s a diamond: up, left, down, right.

Why do you know that!

I’ve had to take a few of those pictures.

I think we’ve all been in a few of them.

I haven’t.

What? Oh my God, there are like 80 pics in this folder.

There are 71. Why’d you round up?

OK Google, how many days until September 4th?

One hundred three days.

OK Google, what is five hundred eighty seven minus seventy one.

Seriously? You can’t do that in your head?

The answer is five hundred sixteen.

OK Google—

Lumos!

Goddammit! Diana, you turned the flashlight on.

Yeah, I’m a wizard.

OK Google, what is—

It’s more than five blowjobs a day. Jesus, it’s math. You count like a girl.

I don’t think you’re going to make it.

I would if you whores weren’t taking up all my Michael time.

I think you’d break his dick.

She’s certainly been trying.

I was floating as I closed Michael’s door behind me. I hardly noticed any squeaks on the stairs as I descended. I was quiet. I was kinda invited, but it was fun pretending I had to sneak away. I had left my sneakers in the porch next to the dog. Trapper was up and wagging his tail waiting for me. So much for sneaking.

Laying on my shoes was a sealed tupperware container and a small plastic bag. My socks and bra were in the bag. A couple of cinnamon buns were in the tupperware.

“Wasn’t as sneaky as I hoped,” I confided in Trapper. He panted and nudged his nose against the door. He growled.

“What?” I was carrying the bag and tub in front of my chest as I pushed open the door with my elbow. Trapper zipped out into the yard. “Dammit!”

I blushed for how loud I was being but I quickly went after Trapper into the cold. My brother was hanging back against the fence, next to the swinging open gate. He was looking so full of himself. Trapper loped up to him and sniffed his crotch. I scowled.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“What are you doing in Michael’s house?” He grumbled back. He was trying to look badass but he looked tiny in his galoshes and Spider-Man jammies. Trapper growled and Eddie weaved back but the dog wasn’t paying attention to the pirate. He dashed out the open gate.

“You let Trapper out!” I growled, “Go home and I won’t get you in trouble for scaring the—”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he bolted after the dog into the woods and down towards the river. I sneered, running after him. I left my clothes and baked goods on the grass.

The slick mud and steep hill had been hell almost-hurrying in jeans. I was running full bore in lingerie. The mud was harder in the cool night. I skidded but I hardly slipped. Trapper was barking. The trees were still mostly winter nude, starlight and moonshine dappled the ground. It could’ve been worse, but it was pretty bad. I hit the pebbly river bank with a clatter of scattering rocks.

I had known Trapper for eight years. I had seen him bark a few times, but tonight was the first time I had heard him growling. He snarled, Eddie hung back a few paces from the dog. Trapper was low to the ground and baring fangs. That was the rock we had used a bench. The one from under which we found the bag. I put my hand over the orb in my windbreaker pocket. Bark! Snap!

Eddie screamed. I had just seen the two beady little eyes reflecting under the eave of the rock. That was where the bag had been stashed. It was a burrow? The little furry creature padded out. Tree shadows crisscrossed the woodscape. Wind whipped and river water charged. Trapper pawed backwards. Claw tips clicked against the rocks. It should’ve run. One bark from Trapper should’ve terrified it. It had been perhaps a third the size of the dog. It should’ve been just a fifth as big as the black lab. The creature cast a grand shadow, way bigger than the cast of the three quarter moon should’ve given it. It rippled, two feet long now, with raised haunches. Its tiny copper and white face was full of too many too sharp sword teeth.

Our eyes met and coldness invaded my skin. I felt like we should be sharing some connection, something deeper than predatory fear. I couldn’t find it. It seemed to laugh, low rolling rumbles that echoed through my bones.

“Eddie! Run!” I hissed.

“But Trapper!” He blubbered.

“Home, home sister, home,” I wasn’t even sure they were words then. They meanings rippled from my guts to my ears to my brain. I grabbed Eddie’s shoulder and yanked. He was pale, almost crying.

“Run!” I snarled and pulled harder. Eddie staggered behind me. I stabbed all five fingernails into my white orb. All I got were stubbed fingertips and an unsatisfying clack. Trapper snarled. Eddie ran forward, I slapped Eddie’s stomach as I pushed him backwards. I dashed for Trapper. I lowered to one knee and grabbed him by his collar. I dragged him back, I hardly had forty pounds on the dog, if I hadn’t pushed up with with all of my legs, I might not’ve moved him at all. Certainly not out of the way of wicked slash of the monstrous animal’s claw. Eddie screamed, but at least he ran.

Oh shit! You hadn’t figured out how to change yet?

I’d be better at it by the time I fought the crows.

The Murder Twins. They weren’t as cool as their name.

What was this one called?

Diana was the one who started naming them. Naming us.

Yeah, I came up with the names and they still wouldn’t even give me Artemis.

What was it?

We call them perversions. They’re usually animals. Like The Dragon was actually a Burmese Py—

Yeah, I got that. What was this one?

Sounds like a fox.

Oh! How about Dread Fox! Yeah, I like that.

It wasn’t a fox. It was like a weasel or a marten. I don’t know the difference.

A fisher!

Isn’t that a bird? Like a stork or something.

Oh God, do you remember the turkey vulture?

Buzzard-Kill? Sure, Diana crushed it with a fire truck.

Wait, I thought you said that was a sex story?

Different fire truck.

Fine, Badass confirmed.

So long as you know. Anyway, to the point, how about King Fisher?

How do we know it wasn’t a girl?

Or a genderfluid transatlantic donkey kin?

Bitch.

Bad Bitch was the scariest.

Yeah, I only kept my courage because Diana kept yelling “Adventure Time!” whenever it changed shaped.

Alright, shut up. How about I call this perversion Queen Fisher? Will that shut up Juno and Diana?

Yeah, I’m on board with that.

Will anything shut up Diana?

Absolutely, check out the 14th and 18th pictures.

I’m going to need that phone back.

Yeah, you are. Slut.

Queen Fisher moved in twirling essing charges. Her wide paws had gray dappled claws. The wind whistled as she slashed the air apart. Trapper cowered and ran. My hand was still tied up in his collar. He swung me. My sneakers were loose without socks and the pebbled ground was hardly secure. I skidded forward, my shoulders tossed way past my center of gravity. Queen Fisher snicker snacked both of her claws.

“Home.” She moaned.

My blood wetted the ground in way too big globs. My nightie was way beyond ruined. My stomach was carved apart and one of my ribs caught the moonlight.

“No! Jan! Janet!” Eddie squealed. He had run. I turned my head to him just before I hit the ground. Throwing my chin into the stone bank hurt worse than the cuts. For just a moment. I was in so much agony, I couldn’t scream.

“Sister.” But that whispering demon could. Queen Fisher scrambled over my back. Poking holes in my windbreaker and into my shoulder blade. She was taking a leaping run, her back paws smacked down in front of my eyes. Trapper snarled but retreated with his tail down. It turned for Eddie. I reached down, into my blood. I couldn’t see for the tears. I just saw red fur and my messy blob of a little brother. I touched the orb.

Trapper’s tail went up and his teeth pulled back. His hackles were up. He barked like a mad dog. He gave my brother another second and a half. I almost needed that much time.

I kicked off the ground. The pebbles skipped across the river behind me. Wood splinters and dirt puffs exploded wherever they hit solid mass. I swung my punch as hard as I could. I wasn’t trying to hit Queen Fisher. My shield shrieked as she rebounded backwards. I swooped up Eddie and ran him all the way to the hillside.

“Jan!” He screamed. He was bone white and his eyes were way too wide. He slapped his hands onto my breastplate, right above my undamaged stomach. His colorless lips shook in the moonlight.

“I’ll protect you,” I assured him and turned. Queen Fisher rolled up on her hind legs. Her spine slithered like a snake, bending in too many places as she towered over me, “No one beats up on my little brothers but me.”

I heard Eddie giggling through hiccuping sobs. The armor was awesome. It was layered over the same tiny sleeved dress with the square neckline. The dress was near as thin as my nightie but I wasn’t feeling cold anymore.

“Home,” Queen Fisher threw out her four letter word. I narrowed my eyes through the T shaped face of my helmet.

I wore the same sandals. Thick brown leather and tied up with crisscrossing turns all the way up my calf to the knee. Hard shin guards were banded over the front of my legs. I still had the upper arm bracelets but also thick bracers, full forearm coverings, knotted tight with white laces. Plates laid over the backs of my hand and were laced around my middle and ring fingers. The bodice had been exchanged for the breastplate. Fat thick leather bands were clasped over my shoulders. The clasps were large round badges of enamel. The breastplate was tight right down to my hipbone. It felt like one solid piece covering my stomach, sides, tits, and back. The skirt didn’t float over my knees anymore. It hung down around my thighs and was weighed down with vertical strips of armor. It was tighter but still moved with me.

The armor was all in the fair brown leather of my bodice and sandals except for the cool white fabric of the dress or the pristine white enamel wherever it connected. I had felt powerful in the princess dress. I wasn’t caught in a tight corset now. Every breath of air felt spiked with steroids and caffeine. I almost wanted to bark, snarl and bare my teeth like Trapper. Nothing slowed me down.

“Sister.” Queen Fisher was getting clearer now.

“She’s not your sister!” Eddie snapped. “She’s mine!”

Apparently Queen Fisher’s voice wasn’t just gurgling in my blood. That made me angrier, more determined. My field of vision was narrowed and tunneled through the face of my helmet. It was leather, I would’ve imagined a metal Corinthian helmet with a plume of my white. The hard cap was way more utilitarian. It was stiff and tight fitting. My hair was tied back, like with the tiara, and the knot was gathered together under the back of the helmet, right on the back of my neck. The front covered my whole face except for the ridged T cut from leather. My nose stuck forward, just past the leather. My teeth shone through.

I could see straight ahead, like light beamed out of my eyes. The reflection in Queen Fisher’s dark eyes just made her seem furious. I reached forward with my spear. That hadn’t changed. The shield was the same. I grabbed the spear by its two white grips; the shield strapped over my left forearm completely guarded that side.

“Come home.” It wasn’t an invitation, a plea to a lost friend or family. The words were commands.

“No,” I wasn’t going to do what I was told. The good girl with no good stories, she was gone. Queen Fisher was going to be the first to figure that out.

I reacted, Queen Fisher was whipping her body around and at me like a perfect curveball. It moved unnaturally, stretching wildly and hinged weirdly. Its gray claws and dappled teeth were gleaming under my gaze.

“Jan!” Eddie warned me. He was mesmerized and so much slower to react than me.

I attacked as if my spear was an ax. A double handed upward cross cut running from my knee to the opposite shoulder. Her skin was tough, hard. Her claws a match for my blade. I cracked her in the snout with my shield. She rolled, her other claw swiping under the rim. I caught the slice on my shinguard. She scoured the leather but didn’t slice through it. I bashed her again in the face, forcing her to turn from me.

“Sister,” The voice was coming from Queen Fisher. Her smashed snout distorted her words, “Home together.”

I sliced, chopped and hacked at her. She squealed and little bits of blood misted around me, but I wasn’t getting anywhere into her. She had four claws and her teeth. She was furious. Queen Fisher must’ve grown to six times my weight. I fell on my knees, arching my back as I caught her back claws and threw her ass into the air behind me. Her back turned around, spine bending too far, like an owl’s neck. Her teeth caught my helmet.

“Jan! You have a spear! Stab his face off!” My brother shouted. Yeah, that’s right, I’m the smart one. I had a spear and I didn’t even think “Stick her with the pointy end.” I kick flipped up off the ground, just in time to force my helmet out from her teeth. The tip of a vicious incisor floating just above my eye. I had to blink away her saliva.

I brought my right hand down, the back of my spear was vicious eight inch long spike. I got her right above the ear. I couldn’t crack her skull but I yanked out blood and some bone bits. Her skeleton had that same dappled gray as her teeth and claws.

“Home!” She roared. Not like a lion. She was way too high pitched for that. It was liked the screech of a big bird of prey yet it rumbled through our guts. Her teeth were full and jagged. They rose and stabbed everywhere in her mouth. Her tongue snaked dangerously among the spikes. Her body finally rolled itself into its natural shape. Her tail still swirling near the tip. I screamed. No girlish shriek, no giddy squeal, no gargling moan. I let fly an Amazon warcry. I lunged. The rocks flying back behind me. I had both hands on my spear and my shield up and over the charge.

Queen Fisher swiped low again. She scuffed up my knees no worse than I’d had as a kid. I bashed her under the chin and stove my spear way into her chest.

The spear blade was oblique to the spaces between her ribs. Her hard skin resisted all it could, which was not nearly enough. I caught on the ribs and stamped down my foot. I forced her to turn, corkscrewing Queen Fisher’s whole body as I wormed hard through her chest. Her roar was quiet and misted with dark blood. I felt her breath, wet, hot and whimpering. She shuddered. Collapsing as a mess onto the rocks.

“Sister,” The last word hardly lived to see it’s second syllable.

“Holy fuck!” Eddie screeched with both arms in the air. Ecstatic until Queen Fisher’s body started wrenching and shrinking. I stepped onto her neck. She felt like a ziploc bag full of meth addicted nightcrawlers. I curled my lips squeamishly as I yanked back my spear. Trapper padded over. It took minutes to reshape into it’s dead natural form. Trapper sniffed and growled at it, looking askance to me.

Eddie approached. I reached for his fingers and as he took my hand I was back in my shredded nightie and holey windbreaker. He flew round me and hugged me as hard as he ever had. I smiled and touched his hair. I didn’t mention his tears on my belly.

“Uh, Jan?” He cuddled closer around my hips.

“Yeah?”

“I saw your butt.” He looked up and despite the tears he was grinning.

“Pretty great right?” I got him to blow the sprayingiest raspberry in the history of stuck out tongues. Trapper nipped at my fingers. Eddie kicked the weasel body into the river. I nodded at him. Whatever this was, I needed to sleep on it. I was content but numb. I grabbed Trapper’s collar and the side of Eddie’s head. I took them home. Eddie was laughing as I messed up his hair.

Wait! Wait! That’s it! What happened to the cinnamon buns!

Eddie ate one and I ate the other.

Phew! I was worried for a second there.

I can’t believe you got torn up and are OK. Did the change heal you? Can I see the scar?

There’s no scar. You always revert to your princess body.

Which is sweet! I haven’t shaved my legs in weeks. Smooth as kidnapped babies.

Armpits too.

Juno’s even lost her mustache.

Hey, fuck you.

Even on that front, the lips of your pussy clear out but not the hair over it. I had just a little landing strip and now I’ve got a bushy little triangle. I’ve given up on trimming it back.

OK, yeah, sure, it’s a time saver, but you can’t color your hair or keep your tattoos.

You were the only one of us with tattoos.

Really? I would’ve guessed Diana had some. Minnie too, if she was any older.

Nope! Needles. No fucking way.

Badass? Really?

Really.

Yeah, I had thought about it. My friend had made some cool designs. I figured I’d wait until I was away from home, but she went and got them herself.

See?

See what?

Oh, yeah, I guess... Whatever.

Do you know what’s awesome? Look! It looks like I spent years with braces. Boo-yah. You had all suffered through that.

Yeah, because our parents weren’t poor.

My parents aren’t poor.

OK, well maybe ours loved us enough to—

Please! This shit isn’t what matters! Where did the bag come from? The orbs and the wand? How do the powers work? You said superpowers? What are they?

Oh, that’s coming up. Some of it. You want to get started Abbie?

Diana. I thought we wanted to keep ourselves behind the helmets. No one screwed up and called you Jan.

I get it. You’re right. Sorry.

Sorry what?

Sorry, badass.

Good girl. I’m the clerk at The Clock. Minerva was a cunt, so I decided to steal her boyfriend.