Switched Ch. 07 - Power Trio

I spread my arms and shifted my knees apart slightly. "Come and get it, Lover Girl."

She wasted no time. Before I knew it, her mouth was all over my breasts while her fingers explored my body. She kissed all over my tummy and thighs before settling in between my legs. Her first slow, light lick made my whole body shudder. All her prior work had gotten me so wound up it didn't take her long to get me off. She stayed and tortured me after, licking and kissing my oversensitive, post-orgasmic lady parts and laughing at the noises I made, like a dying seal.

I clutched at her head and drew her up, stopping her in the middle. "Look," I said, directing her attention to me with a wiggle. "Look what you did."

Lisa blushed, hard, and kissed me even harder. She didn't stop grinding her plump little puss against me until I fingered her to another orgasm while we made out.

Afterward, she lay on my chest. I was aching with need by now, so I pulled her hand down to where it would do the most good, and she took the hint.

She wasn't in any kind of hurry, though. She was taking a slow and leisurely tour of what made me squirm, and despite my hunger, she didn't get me off until the end, when she put together everything she'd learned while driving her tongue down my throat. All the build-up made this orgasm tremendous, the sweetest fire burning through my body.

I returned the favor after, once I was able to move again. She once more reached for me and treated me to the same as I was giving her, and we lay on our sides kissing as our hands busily worked between each other's legs. Soon I was starting to get short of breath, and saw to my relief that she was, too. I attacked her lips, invaded her mouth with my tongue as I drove my fingers inside her. She counterattacked on both fronts, and I swooned from the sensations, then rallied my forces for another invasion.

Her teeth held my lip as she pulled away, keening, her thighs as tight around my hand as radial tires. She released my lip, then swooped down but not to my mouth as I expected. Instead her lips found my ear. I felt as much as heard her hot whisper. "Cum now."

I shuddered, and that impossible feeling of ecstasy threaded up through the indescribable sensation of her fingers pushing into me, her slippery thumb on my clit.

"Cum," she urged, and her breath tickled the tiny hairs in my ear canal, then her tongue tickled the outside, and that was it, I locked up tight and felt my orgasm like a physical force trying to rotate my hips, clamp my thighs together, grapple for any and every friction available. What I did to her hand was indecent, and if done to a pole for an audience, easily worth a hundred bucks. We laughed about it after.

We drifted off to sleep. I wondered if she felt as empty as I did, just then.

*

Moving Stakeout

Jessica

They were doing it. They were going to catch a supervillain. It wasn't feasible to patrol the city on skates. They were plenty fast enough and the suits held a reasonable charge, but with that much exposure, the ladies would be confronted by law enforcement and eventually the local supers, and likely caught. Therefore, we'd travel in a vehicle, low profile, checking the police scanners. When we heard something going down we'd haul ass over there and the Rollergirls would deploy. I drove, because having no suit, I would not deploy.

They didn't quite trust me, but they felt like they knew what I would do, which was maybe the same thing. My tryst with Lisa had earned me some points with them, strangely. What I was doing would never be approved by any police organization with the slightest amount of oversight or common sense, and if I was working on my own to take them down, I could have just done it already. They had definitely ruled out force as an option. Their estimate of my powers' effectiveness was greater than my own, and I saw no reason to disabuse them of the notion.

Truth be told, they were even more impressed than they let on. Like most people, they'd never met a real live Variant, and it was like I was a celebrity. They had a million questions and imagined I had this lavish lifestyle. They wanted to know my codename, and I had to be lame and tell them I didn't know. They wanted to know what other capes I knew, and of course that list had zero names on it.

The patrol ended fruitlessly. Sawblade was laying low, or maybe he'd moved on to another city. I'd set up news alerts, but so far nothing had popped up.

*

Boredom-Induced

Tawney

"I think I see it," I said.

"Are you losing your mind now? Is this boredom-induced psychosis?" Bryan didn't look over as he talked.

"No, I see it! Ass."

"Your eyes are closed."

"We're going on a tour," I said, not dignifying that with a response. If Einstein could figure out quantum physics from just sitting there thinking, then I could damned well come up with a strategy for finding a supervillain.

"There," I said. "I have what I need now. Let's go to the scenes of Blade's previous robberies. Navigate." Then I dropped it into gear and took off, because there should be at least one dramatic damned thing to happen after four frickin' weeks of this shit!

I found what I was looking for at the first scene, right off the bat. At the second, it was less pronounced but once I knew what to look for, it was there, too. Then we came to the third.

It was two in the morning by now, so the intersection looked lonely with the gas station closed. Only the ghostly, blue and white light of its sign illuminated us.

There was a dirt lot opposite and Bryan parked the 'vette next to some road work equipment that had been left there.

"Will you tell me what your deal is now?" Bryan asked.

I turned to him in triumph, standing in the cone of light in front of the 'Vette, and said, "He likes fast cars. The skid marks he left on all three incidents are wide, sports car style. Also the shape of the skid marks suggests a good-handling car."

"Impressive analysis, but how does that help us?" he asked.

"We can leave him bait cars," I blurted.

His eyes widened. My brain spun. "Leave him bait cars we can track," I elaborated.

"Why would he take the bait? Shouldn't he already have a car?"

"Bryan, I'm surprised at you! You read the reports! Come here."

I took him over to the road to point to the skid marks. "See how there's a smooth curve, then a squiggle at the end? And those other two marks?"

"Yeah."

"The armored car hit him. Didn't do that with the first two, but now they know to try ramming his ass."

"That could have been just the one truck," he said.

"They don't do that, trust me. I have a cousin who works with them. Those outfits do not tolerate mavericks. You do what they say, the way they say to do it."

He conceded that but said, "You can't push a full-sized car out of the way with an armored truck."

"No, but maybe you can screw up the guy's escape. So once he's done robbing them, he'll need a new ride. He can fly slow on his own, but he's a car guy. He'll grab a flashy one if there's one nearby.

Bryan was so excited he picked me up and spun me around. I'm still not sure which one of us started the kiss, and I blame dizziness for that.

For a moment we were in a passionate embrace. I was thirsty for the feel of his tongue sliding against mine

He wanted more, but I pulled back. "Sorry," I said. I liked that he was so quick to respect me about that. Ironically it made me want to hug him.

Taking a step back I asked, "You okay paying for this?"

He just smiled. Stupid crooked smile. I kissed him again.

His hands on my butt made me make a very girly-sounding grunt. I didn't know if I could stop kissing him at this point. It felt so deliciously wrong. It was even better when I unbuttoned my shirt and pushed my bra cups down.

He lifted me so he could suck them. Lawd, he was so hot for it. His hungry lips almost bought me off right then and there, but he had other plans for me.

His hands pulled at my pants, and when they were loose, he wasted no time pushing them and my underwear to my knees. There wasn't much traffic but I was exposed on the side of the road now, tits and pussy hanging out. Hi, boys.

He spun me around to face the front of the car. A shove between my shoulder blades bent me over, palms on the hood, a headlight to either side of me. Behind me, I heard the sound of his clothes rustling.

I felt his fingers between my legs, feeling my readiness, and then they were replaced by his incredible cock, running against me, teasing me with its length against my slit. I was so crazy for this I couldn't stand it. It was like my skin was on fire.

Then I felt him take hold of my braid. When he pulled it, the tingles from my scalp came down through my whole body. My back arched as far back as it would go as he dragged me backwards onto his cock by my hair. Oh lawd, it felt so good. When his body met my ass, I damn near bucked him off, I came so hard.

He let go of my braid and my head fell forward onto my forearms, then both his hands gripped my hips, and with my elbows on the hood now and my legs straight, Bryan pressed against me and ground himself as far into me as he could go. I groaned at the sensation of being stuffed with his steel-hard cock. My afterglow was still hitting me pretty hard and now here I was, bent way over, whimpering while he fucked me.

My knees were getting weak, but it didn't take long before he growled and gripped my hips hard and exploded inside me.

I was in trouble now. I had thought our relationship over with the big blow-up, but now? I wanted him to do that to me again. A lot.

*

Next Question

Jessica

We were on our third night of rolling stakeout when they finally asked. Erin was the one. "Why did you do it, Jessica?" she asked in the middle of a discussion about favorite snack foods.

"Do what?" I asked.

"Why did you come after us?"

I couldn't help looking guilty. "I wanted to get Division Zero's attention."

There was grumbling at that, and I added, "And it totally didn't work, so I'm a two-time loser." Three-time, if you count my family.

"Nothing?"

"Oh, I got a lot of interview requests from reporters and police."

They eyed one another nervously. "I didn't do any!" I added. "Am I crazy?"

"Why did you want their attention?" asked Robbie. "And why don't we know anything about you? We don't even know your codename."

"Because there's nothing to me," I told them. "I was born less than a year ago, from another person. I have no family, no money and no identity. My two friends in the world, I'm estranged from, and I have one acquaintance who's this girl I fooled around with at a party, but she isn't returning my calls. All I do is download youtube videos on how to do makeup and first aid, play Wipeout on the drums, work out, and read the news."

"How can you be born from someone else?" she wondered.

"Somebody fucked me over. Hard. Next question."

They didn't have any next questions. Erin gave me a sympathetic look, and in return I nearly flipped her the bird.

It got awkward, fast.

I sighed. "Okay. Here's what happened. My first Switch was during a crisis. My father's assassin had just put a bullet through my chest."

While they picked their jaws up off the floor, I went on, "I didn't know what happened. By the time I figured it out, weeks later, my father had decided the person in my body was a better son than... Sorry, something in my throat. As I was saying, my father decided he liked the other..." I grimaced uncontrollably. "Fuck."

They were starting to look sympathetic, damn them.

"I wanted Division Zero's attention," I said at last, "because I wanted to find out about the Variants who saved my life, and I wanted to be a part of something good."

Lisa laughed. "Instead you got us," she said, and slapped me on the shoulder. The others did, too, and my eyes prickled.

"Paper Doll," I said. "You want to know a codename? That's me. Paper Doll." Because I only looked like a real person, but inside? There was nothing to me.

*

Sonic Signalling Device

Tawney

"Yes, this exit, I'm sure," he said, and nearly fell in my lap as I wrenched the Corvette onto the off-ramp. "Right after this," he called, and sprawled messily as I took the turn.

"Put on your seatbelt or I'm stopping right now," I side-eyed. He did.

"Why did I agree to let you drive?"

"You wouldn't let me drive your R8 is why. There he is!"

I could see the black rental ahead, weaving through traffic. This one was a Challenger, and while it was fast, it wouldn't outrun our Corvette.

"Are you sure you're all right?" I asked.

"Yes! He didn't hurt me, he just threatened me."

"With a whirling sawblade of death in your face, Bryan!"

He let out a shaky breath, "I reserve the right to be a complete basket case later. For now, though, I'm okay."

I glanced over worriedly, but he did seem all right for someone who'd just been carjacked. Sure, he'd expected it, but... Carjacked. By a guy who'd just critically injured and maybe killed two armored car guys.

"Activate sonic signalling device," I ordered, and though I didn't take my eyes from the road (I didn't dare), I knew he was rolling his eyes at me.

He powered down the windows and turned on the device. It was pretty simple: a mic, connected to a frequency shifter pedal from the local music store, rigged into the car's stereo. "Hey, Shadow Hawk," he said into the mic, "We've found your prey." he read off location information, as well as a description of both our vehicles.

"You sure it worked?" I asked him. He glanced down at his phone, which was running an audio meter app.

"It worked," he growled. "You can't hear it because—"

"I know! Because it's higher than human hearing! I knew that, thank you! I just asked because we are now tailing a supervillain who will try to kill us if he realizes, and that kind of thing makes a person nervous!"

Sawblade was not aware of any pursuit, so he was blending in. Now I had to do something I'd only seen in the movies: I had to tail him without him realizing. Problem was, I was driving a bright yellow corvette. We did not think that part of the plan through well enough. I did have an advantage, though. The phone in the Challenger's trunk had Find My Phone enabled, and the web browser on Bryan's laptop was showing us the map. I dropped back so Sawblade couldn't see me.

Bryan kept beeping and booping in the ultrasonic range and repeating his message, with updated locations.

"You sure he doesn't know we're here?" I asked.

"I'm sure," replied Bryan. "Shit, I think he just stopped."

"He did. Hence the question."

Sawblade had pulled over, and we rolled past him and pretended to stop for gas. After a moment he resumed moving, and we once more followed from just out of sight.

"Okay, pull over," said Bryan.

"Why?"

"Do it!"

I pulled over. "You don't have to be rude about it!"

He was peering at his screen, saying, "Sorry. He's just turned off onto Glen Lake Boulevard."

"So?"

"It's an expensive neighborhood with no side streets and very little traffic. He'll use that street to lose his pursuit."

"But I hid!" I tried not to say it whiney.

"Yes, but he's being cautious. He may look like a redneck idiot, but he's not."

"Don't you make fun of rednecks now!" I swatted him again.

"I respect a lot of rednecks," he backpedaled, "Just not the idiotic ones."

"So what do we do?"

"He'll likely check his backtrail on Glen Lake, then switch to another vehicle."

"So we've lost him."

He sat back, and breathed out heavily. "Looks like it."

"We waited a month for this!"

"We've learned some things. It's not totally wasted."

"Four frickin' weeks!"

"Better than getting killed."

Ahead of us, Sawblade was stopped again and watching the cars go past. If he didn't recognize any from the last time he stopped, he'd consider himself in the clear, then switch vehicles and disappear.

"Fuck that," I growled, and hit the accelerator as I spun the wheel. I generated impressive amounts of tire smoke, swapped ends, and went nowhere.

Bryan gave me a weary look. I tried again, this time with a little less accelerator. He helped with the navigation as I went around Greenlake, moving as fast as I could and breaking a dozen traffic laws, until I got to the other end. I parked the car and shut it down.

"Now what?" he asked.

"We wait for him to come out, and pick up his trail again. Hopefully we'll recognize him. If he's hotwired a car, look for an older one. It should stand out among all the expensive SUVs."

More boredom, but only a little-we didn't get that far ahead of him. After watching SUV after SUV pour out of the neighborhood, there it was: a landscaping truck. Older model pickup. Perfect. "See it?" I asked.

"Oh yeah. Shit, he's headed this way!"

Movies had educated us pretty well on what to do here. I kissed him. All the while I watched his eyes, warily watching the truck. They tracked from right to left, but slowed in the center before moving on.

Bryan pushed me away. "He's onto us. Go, go, go."

I started the car and dropped it into gear while Bryan peered out the back window. In the rearview I saw the truck swing around. It was a big one, a full-sized Ford, and like most Ford trucks, its headlights looked a little judge-y in the dark when it was close behind.

He'd never catch us in this baby. I stomped the gas, Bryan yelling, "No, no no!" and the car spun through a smoky one eighty. Shit! We were now backwards on the side of the road, and going forward would take us right past him. He had only to twist the wheel to block our progress or just hit us.

Bryan pulled out his pistol. Stupid, the guy's a supervillain, they're famously resistant to pistol bullets!

He pointed the gun out the open window and pop pop pop pop! Light flashed and I hit the gas again, feathering it just enough that it laid down a strip of rubber before the wheels hooked up. As we shot forward, we were shoved back into our seats and narrowly missed the pickup, who'd been slow to react due to the shattered windshield and headlight.

"You shoulda got a tire!" I yelled.

"I did! Radiator, too."

"Better than nothing," I admitted. But not much. Diesels like that truck had an oil cooler, and he'd just started it from cold. He had plenty of time to kill us before it overheated.

Lucky for us, we were stupid fast. I tried to push down the fear so I could enjoy this moment: peeling out the wrong way down a nighttime street in Atlanta with a hot guy riding shotgun, literally firing out the window, and a supervillain in pursuit.

We got to the end of the street and screeched into a hard left, the right turn blocked by traffic, and screamed down the road. I swung another left, but halfway through the maneuver there was a loud set of thunks on the side of the car. Warning lights flashed on the dash and the wheel started to fight me.

Out the side window I saw the truck limping toward us. Then a row of sawblades, each the size of a saucer, backed out of the holes they'd made in the side of our car.

"Go, go, go!" shouted Bryan.

Like he had to tell me.

Flat tires weren't such a big deal on low-profile wheels. The sidewalls already carried more load than a normal tire. That was really fortunate, because according to the flashing lights on the dashboard, both my left tires were flat. The 'Vette handled like a bitch, but with no other choice, I flogged it forward and sawed at the wheel as best I could. The rear wheel had a flap loose, and it hit the inside of the fender with every revolution, and I'd gotten this baby up to sixty, seventy easy in between clumps of traffic. The loud, rapid thub-thub-thub noise it made just added to the weirdness of the night.