Chapter 17A

In the morning, I was so hungry that I didn't even bother to brush my hair or pull on a robe over my gauzy nightgown before hauling my butt downstairs to breakfast. I should have eaten something before I went to bed the night before, but I had been way too tired. Now, I was running a deep energy deficit for all the quick healing I had done and I craved anything with sugar and fat in it.

Mom eyed the big puddle of syrup around my stack of pancakes, but said nothing. She just went back into the kitchen and started a pan of sausages. I heard the sizzle when they hit the pan and it made my mouth water.

Jim and Bud straggled in and dropped into their chairs. They both looked at me and then at each other. Both shook their heads and Bud shrugged. I think I knew what that was about. I was getting better at reading them and their version of fraternal non-vocal communication. I would have said something apologetic, but my mouth was busy. Bud beat me to it.

"Rough night last night?" he asked.

"Umfph," I mumbled around a mouthful. I took a sip of juice before continuing. "Yeah. Rough." I shoveled in another forkful.

"Thought so. I heard you and Jim come in late, but I was already in bed. Were you in that business at the Montgomery farm?"

"Maybe she doesn't want to talk about it," Jim suggested. It was more tact than he usually showed. Most of the time he would have just aimed a slap at his brother for saying something dumb.

"No," I said, swallowing. I put my fork down for a moment and dabbed with a paper napkin at a drop of syrup that had fallen into the crevasse between my boobs. I was still hungry, but I decided that I had better pace myself. Besides, the sausages were starting to smell very good and I definitely wanted some. "It's OK, Jim. Last night I just didn't want you to ask anything in front of Steve that I might not have wanted to answer. You two are family. You already know the kinds of stuff I get into."

Jim smiled at the 'family' reference. They both sat up a little straighter, as if I had said something to make them self-conscious.

"There are some things that some people are better off not hearing all the nasty details about," I said in a low voice, tilting my head and pointing my fork toward the closed kitchen door. "Steve included."

"You know," Jim said, "He's going to like you anyway. I think you're worrying over nothing."

"Maybe. But let's break him in slow, hunh? I don't want anyone worrying about me unnecessarily."

"Ha! I think he already knows that when you slip away someplace, it's not you that anyone should be worried about. It's the poor fools who piss you off."

I smiled. I would have said something, but somehow more food had managed to jump into my mouth when I wasn't looking. I chewed while Jim talked.

"I know Neeka was covering for you last night. I can't read her mind like you can, but I know her well enough to tell that she wasn't giving us the whole deal on what you were up to in that barn. I knew that wasn't for my benefit. You really are — ah — fond of Steve?"

"Really."

"Good. Steve's a good guy. Don't hurt him."

I opened my mouth to say something, and food almost fell out. I closed it again and thought about Jim's comment. It was kind of abrupt to say it like that, but he and I were on the same page. The problem was; what was the best thing to do? Would it be doing Steve a kindness to keep him in the dark about my adventures or would he be more hurt to find out that I had kept things from him? I needed a simple set of rules to help me keep it all straight, one that didn't involve remembering a bunch of complicated lies. I went over this again and again in my head and came back to the same decision I had made before. Neeka would know everything. I couldn't keep anything from her anyway, and it was comforting to have someone from whom I had no secrets at all. Everyone else would have to be on a need-to-know arrangement. Need, or accident, or emergency, or something; but I made a resolution to keep my mouth shut about things that happened to me that didn't make it on TV. The hard and unpleasant fact was that what my family and friends didn't know couldn't hurt them or me; while things they did know — might, regardless of intentions, good or otherwise. I hated this, but it seemed to be something else that went with the job.

Besides, I had already started writing all this down for posterity and to have a private place to vent my frustrations and fears about what was happening without having to edit out the 'good parts'. I tried hard not to admit to myself that it was really a way to record everything in case one day I screwed up and didn't make it home again.

Not for the first time, I wondered if the price I was paying to play superheroine was worth the hassle and the risk. The memory that came back to me was of the terrified faces of those kids in the supermarket where I had made my first public appearance. That still haunted me. It steeled my resolve to go on with this like nothing else ever could. Whatever else happened, whoever I might save — even if only in theory by cutting down on the criminal population — I had done good in that situation. If I had reason to doubt, I could always look back on that and feel that it had all been worthwhile.

So I was right back to where I started. I had to keep secrets from people I trusted. It was a bitter pill that I was extremely unhappy about having to swallow, but I couldn't find a way to argue my way out of it.

The look on my face while I thought this over must have said a lot about what I was thinking. When I looked back at Jim, he was looking me right in the eyes.

"You know," he said, hesitantly, "I think that look is even scarier than your dragon-face."

Bud chimed in, "No shit!"

I shifted my gaze to the younger brother without changing my expression. Bud swallowed and shifted his butt to the edge of his chair as though he were thinking of bolting out the door.

"No offense!" Bud said, quickly, apologetically, and apparently sincerely.

"It's OK. It's just that this goes way further than anyone's feelings. I will try my best not to hurt anyone, but the deeper I get into this, the more I realize that there are worse things than being out of the loop. I'm going to be making enemies. Some of them will be very unpleasant people. Remember Bubba and Leon? What if they came around while we were at school? Not that they would, even if they got the chance. My understanding is that if they were dropped off in front of this house, they would run away as fast as they could."

"Yeah, probably peeing their pants all the way. The people you ran into last night won't be a problem, either," Jim said.

It occurred to me that he was testing to see if I wanted to talk about what happened. He'd been close enough to know it would be an interesting story. He was right, though. I did need to talk, but this wasn't the time.

"Yeah, well we can talk about that after I've seen the news. There are some things I need to know first. But my point is that I need as much separation from home and my job as I can get, OK? This way it's better for everyone. So if I don't tell you stuff, don't be mad. And if I want you to help me keep secrets from Steve, I hope you understand that it's for his benefit, too."

"This is really a job to you?" Bud asked.

"I think of it that way. A job. A career. Whatever. It's what I'm going to be doing with my life. Like I told Sue, the pay sucks, but there is a lot of satisfaction in it."

"You're taking this very seriously," Jim commented.

"You betcha, sport. As serious as a heart-attack. The more I do it, the more I see that it needs doing."

Mom brought in a plate of sausages then. Jim and Bud reached out to spear some with their forks, but I was there and gone in a flash. They only got one apiece.

I grinned at them with a link between my teeth and hot grease dripping from my chin. If they wanted to duel me for food when I was running an energy deficit, they were going to be up against some stiff competition. Mom smiled and went back in the kitchen to see what else she could find in the fridge. I guessed that having food you just cooked snatched off the platter as soon as it hit the table must be one of the more gratifying things about being domestic.

"What tipped you off in the restaurant?" Bud asked. "You shot out of there before we knew something was up."

"I heard two goons trying to extort Connie's uncle. His office wall was just behind me and I could hear them talking through it. He was holding out, too... until they threatened to do something to Connie."

"What? Those bastards!"

"My sentiments exactly. I went out to the parking lot to reason with them. Things took off from there."

"Damn!" Jim said. "I wish I had known that. I'd have gone out there with you."

"Me too!" Bud said.

Their eagerness explained a lot about the conversation. I tried to think of a way to defuse this before it went any further.

"So, you guys think you might want to go out with me and Neeka and do some crimefighting sometime?"

"Shoot, yes!" You bet!"

"OK, you can come along. There's just one condition. You have to spar with me and either beat me or draw me. I promise not to break more than a couple of bones and I'll stop if you bleed too much. Deal?"

"Ah, well..." "Gee, uh..."

"Unhunh. Look, guys. Last night I got out of that place just barely in time to avoid being blown to bits or burnt to a crisp. I still got singed pretty good, but everyone who was in there with me got dead. If you had been in there, you'd be dead, too. This is not a game. People get hurt. People get killed. I get hurt. But I can recover. Even if I do have to eat like a pig to do it.

"Jim, you ask Neeka about this. I don't have to look over my shoulder to know where she is and what she's doing. I'd have to do that with anyone else and it would distract me. The two times we went out yesterday, she mostly stayed on the sidelines because we knew it was just too dangerous for her to mix in."

I almost told them about Roxy spearing me with that dagger. I thought better of it just as I opened my mouth. That would have been too grisly. I was starting to think I had really come too close to the edge that time. Another fraction of an inch and I wouldn't have been here to tell this.

"And you like being hurt." Jim wasn't being mean. He sounded more disappointed than anything. He was implying that he didn't think he could stand in the fire like I had been doing. And he was stating something that he knew for a fact.

"Let's say I have learned to appreciate certain sensations that others might find... unpleasant. I think of it as a professional hazard. I'm not invulnerable. This is how I make up for that deficiency."

They thought that over. From their expressions, they realized that going out on a job with me needed to remain something that they only fantasized about.

"I still need your help," I said. "I need you to cover for me. I need you to help keep my head on straight through all this. Mostly I need something like a normal life to come home to."

"'Normal', she says," Jim chuckled. The way he smiled, I knew he wasn't laughing at me but at the situation.

"Yeah, well... more normal than escaping by the skin of my teeth from exploding buildings, or going toe to toe with lunatics driving tanks, or tearing apart wrecked minivans. That stuff can stress you out, you know. I need to be able to unwind."

"Right. Unwinding is fun, too. What do you say, Bud?"

"Oh yeah! Unwinding is fun. Which reminds me, are you planning anything this weekend?"

"Like another party? No, after the last couple of weeks, I think I need to cut back on the partying. I plan to go visit a friend on Saturday. Other than that, I think I need to hit the books some and just kick back." That, and a workout or two, and some Kung Fu practice. Now that I thought about it, I would have a full weekend just trying to catch up with things I had missed during all the week's excitement.

Mom had come in with a plate of French toast while we were talking. The smell was heavenly, but I held myself to only one piece. When the subject of weekend plans came up, she looked both relieved and disappointed that there wouldn't be a gaggle of girls romping through the house again and staying up until all hours of the night.

"Maybe you'd all like to go to the beach one afternoon?" she suggested. We could drive over on Sunday if the weather is nice.

That sounded like a nice, family-type thing to do. It seemed a little early in the year for beach trips to me, but I hadn't seen much sand growing up, so I wouldn't really know. Even though it was only about an hour's drive to the Gulf, my parents had never taken me and the few times Yvette had let me go on organized outings, the chaperones acted like concentration camp guards. "Zer vill be no fun herr today! Nicht!" It seemed funny to me now and I smiled at the memory. It was one of the first times I had been able to look back and find something funny, instead of horrible.

Mom misunderstood my expression. "Sam seems to like the idea. How about it? Just the four of us? Fiona told me that Carl will be back in town on Saturday. The Morgans are due for some quality family time and I thought we might do the same."

Jim smiled slyly and got a mischievous look in his eye. "OK, just the four of us. But on one condition..."

"What?" Mom sounded surprised at Jim's presumption that he could dictate terms. She looked curious as well.

"Just that you go as 'Bambi', not 'Mom'."

She blushed. She looked pleased, but she had to ask the logical question.

"All right. But why?"

"Because I know the two of you are going to try to outdo each other by wearing the sexiest swimsuits you can without getting arrested. I don't think I could stand it if I had to keep reminding myself to think of you as 'Mom'."

Bud nodded his agreement. He and Jim hadn't exchanged any significant looks, so I guessed this was purely Jim's idea. It was the first time he had gone further than just agreeing to the new family roles.

"Well, I think I'll take that as a challenge," Bambi declared. "So, you'd like to see me in a sexy swimsuit, hmmm?" Dressing provocatively was the very thing she lived for. I could almost see her mentally searching her wardrobe for the right thing to wear.

Jim looked right at her for a beat before answering. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his posture indicating that he wasn't uncomfortable having this slightly flirtatious conversation. He said, "Oh, yeah! And so would every other guy on the beach. I'm sure I speak for all males between the ages of 12 and 120 on this. Think of it as a public service — as well as a private favor."

"Well, since you put it that way... how can I refuse?"

"This is going to be fun!" I said. I had meant to be supportive, but I found that I was really getting into the spirit of the thing. I had also thought of something that Bambi hadn't. I concentrated for the necessary couple of seconds and said, "I can wear my new suit!" I opened my nightgown and revealed the faux version of the blue bikini that was upstairs in a drawer.

Bambi laughed, then suddenly looked serious, as she realized that I could top her at will when it came to wearing sexy swimwear. I could mimic anything she wore, and make mine even smaller and, of necessity, skin tight. Her serious look melted quickly, though. She smiled and nodded at me, accepting the challenge.

"Yes, lots of fun," Jim said, seeing the looks Bambi and I were giving each other.

Surely he hadn't thought so far ahead that he had anticipated the competition that his suggestion had started. Or was I underestimating Jim again? Maybe it was just his hormones talking. Either way, it would be a win-win situation for the boys to get the girls into a contest to see who could be the biggest exhibitionist. I decided that I would be nice and not try to top Bambi, but she didn't need to know that. Let her think that she had to go as far as she dared. The result might be very interesting indeed.

For my school clothes that day, I put on a faded old denim skirt that I had hacked the lower third off of with a pair of shears and then never had the guts to try to get past Yvette with it on. I had even tried to fix it by popping the side seams at the waist, so I could wear it low on my hips, but that made it worse, rather than better, so I had hidden it away in the back of my old closet. Now that some of the sting of the old days was starting to fade, I got it out and put it on with a scoop-neck tank-top that Bambi had bought for me. As school clothes went, the outfit was almost demure, showing little cleavage but a good bit of skin below my navel. The split seams were the sexiest thing about it, showing enough skin on each side to make it questionable if I were wearing panties. Which I wasn't, of course. I added a macramé belt to the skirt, just to make sure that if the seams let go even more, it wouldn't fall off at an inconvenient time.

I then took a few minutes to deal with something that I had noticed happening, but hadn't understood until lately. Even though I had been getting fucked fairly regularly, and by some of the biggest cocks imaginable, whenever I had to trance-out and force my body to heal there was always a side-effect. The healing refused to be confined entirely to the site of the injury. Instead, it spread all over and insisted on trying to 'fix' all of me, in effect, changing my whole body to an earlier physical state. In my case, the most obvious result was to reverse the wear and tear on my sex organs and change me back into a virgin.

As wonderfully kinky as it sounds, this isn't really a good thing. It actually felt like my pussy was growing shut. Believe me, having your cherry busted once is enough. Doing it again and again takes a lot of the pleasure out of fucking, even for a pain-slut like me. See, the order of events is all wrong. The pain should come later, after I'm totally turned on, not right when the guy is first trying to get his cock into me.

So my original worry about getting too loose was totally wrong. The reality was that if I was going to do the healing trick regularly, then I needed to do something to keep from getting too small, especially with Bud, Jim, and Steve ready to pound me mercilessly at the drop of a hankie. The steel balls had actually helped, but I was bored with them. I decided that I needed to find something else that would keep my pussy from going back to the diameter of a soda straw, so I got down on the floor and looked through the toy-drawer to see if anything looked interesting.

A lot of the stuff was just different color, size and shape dildos, but some of it was intriguing. I pulled out a giant pacifier that had clearly been intended as a gag-gift by the manufacturer. Someone had removed the ring-shaped handle, leaving a device about five or six inches long — a big rubber bulb tapering to a curved plastic retainer with a small knob in the center of the other side where the handle used to be. I turned it over in my hand, fascinated that someone — presumably Ben Reynolds — had seen the possibilities of the thing as a sex-toy.

It seemed too cute to pass up and it was perfect for what I needed — something to keep me stretched open and for my hungry twat to suck on to keep it busy while I concentrated on schoolwork. I sat on the floor, hiked up my skirt, spread my legs and fed my pussy the outsized pacifier.