It was safe to say that Tyrone was loving life. He’d pushed his own powers’ limits four or five times working with Osprey and Sunstone, and he was pretty sure that even if they noticed something had happened, they weren’t going to discuss it with anyone, let alone object.

And the way Osprey in particular had been hanging around him lately was reward enough.

She hadn’t actually changed her costume, but the press were speculating she might have; all that she’d really done was pin her V-neck lower and gather in some of the fabric around the small of her back, so that it stretched tighter and almost transparent around her ass and her thighs.

The reporters weren’t the only ones who’d noticed, but Tyrone was pretty confident that he was more grateful than the others, especially as Osprey had started hanging around him, Sunstone, and Microbat.

And ‘hanging around’ was another way of saying ‘being exposed to’ Tyrone.

It was probably unfair to keep nudging them. And yet, at the same time, it was just so easy…

With Sunstone it was also partially self protection. He’d tried to help heal her trauma but he wasn’t at all convinced that was the result he’d actually achieved; he’d tried a couple of times since to refine it, but it was starting to feel like this was beyond him.

Which didn’t mean he should stop dead; there was, he figured, always the chance he’d find what he needed if he pushed at the right moment.

And even if not - well, then he couldn’t afford for Sunstone’s thoughts to drift toward discussing what had happened inside her head with anyone who might realise.

So Tyrone was in and out of her head fairly regularly (which also proved, at least to his own satisfaction, that he had his powers properly out of control).

And if he was going to meddle with Sunstone’s mind, then it seemed to him unfair not to also meddle with Osprey. She had much more experience to put to use, after all.

She also had more money, and that had become important by the end of the first week of his experimentation. Without a case he was actively chasing, it looked odd for him to be constantly in the headquarters; even if it wasn’t, the occasional blowjob in one of the rooms D.A.N.I.E.L. didn’t monitor but which he had plausible reason to be seen entering was growing stale.

It was getting easier to plant a new thought in Osprey’s mind every time he did it, though, and so the idea that she wanted to rent an apartment with a king-size bed near Justice Guard HQ had slipped in easily enough.

There had been a little confusion - she was capable of supersonic flight, after all, so her home was fairly close by anywhere she was in North America - but a quick nudge toward the thought that milfs liked to play hostess had sealed the deal.

He’d even got her spare key, because Osprey had suddenly realised she needed to mark her favourite of the young men of the Justice Guard out with extra privileges. A heartbeat later, the second realisation had confirmed that he was her favourite.

Coaxing Sunstone out there was a little harder - guiding her, rather than puppeting her, was harder; he wasn’t sure but he thought it might be the fae influence on her powers - and so there was still the occasional rendezvous in Guard HQ.

That Wednesday lunchtime, Tyrone was indulging himself in Decon. The decontamination room wasn’t monitored - too much risk of a breach of privacy - and was packed with systems that would make it astonishingly easy to remove any biological trace of what they’d got up to.

Also in Decon was Osprey, who had decided, apparently all on her own initiative, to give Tyrone a crash course in how to receive a titfuck.

*

Lorna was blissfully happy, though she wasn’t at all sure why. Titfucking her favourite young hero was, obviously, a huge part of it, but there had to be more going on, she thought.

Joining the Justice Guard had to be at the core of it. That much she knew, if only because her happiness had been growing since the press conference, bit by bit. She just seemed to keep making the right decisions for her own happiness.

Cornering PsyKick in Decon had been one of her best decisions yet; she’d seen his reaction right from the moment she walked in.

She was really glad that over time he’d stopped looking so nervous whenever she came into the room; for a while she’d had the impression that the moment she appeared he instinctively thought that something was about to go wrong.

And Lorna didn’t want that; Lorna wanted him to think of her as the one who set things right.

Take today, as an example; she’d slipped in a few minutes after him and she’d closed the door quickly. Being able to fly was the best when you wanted to move quietly; she’d gone up onto her tiptoes then risen about another half inch, so she was fully off the ground, and then she was moving toward him efficiently and quietly, while his back was to her.

She slipped her hands over his eyes, floating close enough to him that at the same moment her chest was pressed against his back. “Guess who?”

She could hear the smile in his voice as he said “Well, there’s only one woman who greets me like that…”

“More fool them,” she purred breezily, taking her hands from his eyes and resting them loosely on his shoulders, a subtle, gentle prompt to turn him around - which he did. She smiled and kissed him slowly, tenderly. Taking the lead. Setting the mood.

Young men like this needed a milf who was primed to push their limits, or how would they ever gain experience without something going wrong?

God, but his kiss back showed her how much he wanted her. She shivered with delighted excitement.

“Ready for your next lesson?” she teased.

"What are you planning to teach?” There was an eagerness in his voice, but there was no curiosity. There never was. It was like he knew what she’d decided, every time. Sometimes, when she came to a decision while they were in the same room, he almost seemed to know before she did.

For all her vaunted skills as a detective, Osprey’s thoughts skated right by that observation as if unable to develop it further. Instead, she put her hands to the plunging V-neck of her costume, tucked her fingers into the fabric, and pulled both sides down sharply.

It was a practised motion - she’d started dreaming about doing it for him last night, and so she’d practised several times before she went to work - and between her practice and her metahuman physiology, she was able to make her tits bounce as they popped out into view, provoking the rare surprise from him.

His eyes popped out almost as far as her breasts had and Lorna had to suppress a giggle. A young man like PsyKick probably wouldn’t take well to her laughing at a moment like this, probably wouldn’t be mature enough to realise she wasn’t laughing at him but was just delighted by the reaction she’d provoked.

Milfs had to be careful about that sort of thing, she’d decided. She was leading the way; poor dear PsyKick was such an innocent young man. Without her deliberately and calculatedly provoking him, he might still be so innocent he’d be virginal. She couldn’t embarrass him.

She could, on the other hand, push him further. “I’ve showed you mine,” she cooed. “Are you going to balance the score?”

His tongue flicked out quickly over his lips, nervous as he sometimes was. She didn’t give him time for that nervousness to manifest, just in case; she already had her hand on his belt, was springing the buckle, and then with a wink and a confident grin she was sinking to her knees before him, his cock stiffening in her hand.

“Mmm,” she smiled, and it didn’t occur to Lorna that when she was around PsyKick she behaved more like a collection of porn cliches than a woman, “I see you are ready for your lesson. You’re going to have to show me how gracious you can be, PsyKick, under pressure…”

“Pressure?” he asked, and without hesitation she swallowed him whole, tongue whirling around him, lingering as she drew her head back both to listen to the aftershocks of his startled, delighted gasp and to make sure his cock was properly coated before she popped up higher and tucked it between her tits, using her arms to grip it tight.

“Can you feel the pressure now?” she grinned, and he made an inarticulate sound in response.

Lorna felt alive on a level she hadn’t experienced properly, she thought, ever before, except during superhuman brawls. As a young woman she hadn’t had the confidence to do this; up until recently she’d felt that the right partner for her would be someone near her own age; since joining the Justice Guard she’d embraced her true destiny as a milf, and with her favourite young man she was more turned on, more excited, more delighted than ever before.

And besides, her tits were so much bigger, stronger, and more sensitive since she came into her powers…

She was really getting enthusiastic about everything around her when she heard the door to Decon hiss open and her heart seemed to freeze in her chest.

As much as the Justice Guard had kickstarted her milf era, she wasn’t at all sure that this fit within the bylaws.

“Osprey,” Ms Miracle was saying as she entered the room, “I was wondering if I could consult, I think M.A.L.I.G.N. are-“

An embarrassed silence fell across all three for a few frozen moments.

*

Amy knew, of course, exactly what she was seeing, or if she didn’t know, precisely, it was the conclusion she’d jumped to.

Not that it felt like jumping to conclusions. There were the occasional cape chasers who had powers of their own, and it was possible that Osprey was one of those - but the woman had been active longer than Amy, and there were no rumours Amy would trust.

That, plus a psionic, made Ms Miracle immediately conclude that mind control was involved somewhere.

She’d developed a minor reputation in the Justice Guard in her first few years with the team for being able to call when a mind controller was involved in a case but not visible up front; to the best of her knowledge none of her team knew why.

Ms Miracle was a hypnofetishist, and she loved to be under someone else’s control. Less so, admittedly, when she was being used as a weapon or war - but that was rare.

She was still hoping one day she’d run into someone with a code of ethics as powerful as their controlling mind. The closest she’d come so far was Mentros and, alas, he definitely didn’t count for that.

All of this went through her mind in just a heartbeat when she saw the older heroine on her knees, tits wrapped around the young psychic’s cock, along with: When Mentros said he wasn’t sure the kid had the backbone for this team, this must have been what he actually meant.

She was still for a second, then her lips set in a thin line. “Right,” she said, firmly, and turned on her heel.

Then her body locked into place, and her head grew still, and empty, and hazy. Her nipples were suddenly hard; her body could not shiver with pleasure, but the wave of ecstasy that should have done so rolled through her.

Amy’s vision swam, and she knew she was going nowhere, doing nothing, saying nothing.

Not unless she was told to.

*

Lorna, meanwhile, was trying to find a dignified way of extracting a man’s cock from between her tits. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment; this was surely the worst way for her secret milf agenda to be exposed.

She almost recoiled from PsyKick, slithering backward on her knees until she could rise to her feet-

“Osprey,” PsyKick said suddenly, “stop.”

There was something there - not in his voice but somehow present in the air - that gave the word extra weight. Frustrated, aroused, and confused, she shuddered to a halt.

She turned her head to look at Ms Miracle -

- except she didn’t; she stood unmoving.

She hastily tucked her tits back into her costume -

- except she didn’t; she stood unmoving.

She looked helplessly to PsyKick, who was standing there, a look of concentration on his brow, a smirk on his lips. “There’s a good girl,” he told her. Her thighs clenched, her body squirmed, but she held her pose.

She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like her to do what she was told.

He looked over her shoulder and beckoned, and she heard Ms Miracle walking closer, stepping slowly, stiff-legged. Through her confusion came realisation.

“You’re-“

“I’m in control, yes,” he said, and his eyes seemed to glitter with starlight. “Say it.”

“You’re in control,” she parrotted, still squirming. She was sure she’d meant to say something else, something more accusatory, something less friendly.

But she had no idea what that might have been. There was a new idea in her mind instead, that PsyKick was in control, and that idea mattered more than any other thought in her helpless head.

"And yes, I’m afraid you’ve had things the wrong way round for a while. It’s not the milf and her boy toy; it’s the man and his milf toy. What are you? Say it.”

“I’m your milf toy,” she answered, and her voice was achingly needy, painfully happy, and that same lovely ache shivered through her whole body.

How had she got this the wrong way round?

She could hear Ms Miracle breathing heavily off to one side, no doubt fighting PsyKick’s control as had as she could. It vaguely crossed her mind that she should be fighting too, but somehow it was more important that she do nothing, that she be stopped.

“Good,” he said. “Now, do toys decide when to stop playing?”

This was a new side to PsyKick. The nervous excitement she’d so often seen had been only a hint at the real emotion lying underneath, and the mask had come off - not to her, she thought, but to him.

Ms Miracle discovering his secret had made him take further measures and he was now revealed, to himself more than to them, as someone who would willingly step beyond whatever line he’d drawn, whatever marker had allowed him to say his behaviour to that point was ethical.

“No,” she said. “We don’t.” Strange to think of herself as a toy, but she knew now that a toy was exactly what she was; a milf toy in PsyKick’s control.

“Then I think I’m owed the rest of that titfuck,” he said. “Don’t you?”

Osprey was silent. It was an impossible question for her to answer.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I’m not thinking,” she said, and only as the words left her mouth did she understand why it had been so impossible. To her side, Ms Miracle whimpered, no doubt horrified by the effect PsyKick had had.

“Then don’t think,” PsyKick said, and there was a sugary sweetness to the arrogance in his voice. “Get down on your knees…”

She sank wordlessly to her knees. Having been allowed to move, she glanced to one side, saw Ms Miracle standing nearby, at attention, watching helplessly.

“Don’t worry about her,” PsyKick said. “She can’t help you.” And then, after a moment’s thought, he added, “In fact, you don’t want to be helped, do you?”

“No, I don’t want to be helped,” she agreed.

“You don’t need help. You’re happier under my control.”

His words sank into her thoughts, which changed to echo them.

“You’ll address me with respect.”

“Yes, sir.”

The chuckle that he gave voice to carried so much delight in his own power that she squirmed on her knees.

“The only thing you want to do right now,” PsyKick told her, and her thoughts changed to fit, “is fit my cock back between those big beautiful boobs of yours and milk me until I cum all over them.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed. “May I?”

“You will.”

“Yes, sir.” She leaned forward, cupping and lifting her tits, and set to work.

*

Amy stood and watched, helpless to speak, unable to act, knowing PsyKick had invaded her mind, could flip mental switches on her at any time, and tried to reason her way through the situation.

Being controlled was a turn on, was a fantasy. Being controlled in real life was - could be - a problem. It was hard for someone with her power to fully give up, to not fight from inside.

It seemed unlikely PsyKick would try to use their powers against others. What he was doing was, of course, still bad enough, but Ms Miracle didn’t mind it for herself, and preferred not to examine the internal ethics that led her to that decision.

There was also a natural time limit on how long he could do this. The moment Mentros was back from whatever had taken him to Australia, the moment the Justice Guard were using his mental link again, he’d see what had happened. PsyKick didn’t seem to have realised that; if he had, the smart play would have been not to fight against his discovery.

Instead he could have claimed it was a moment of weakness. Certainly this wouldn’t get him out of trouble entirely, but this path would bring worse ramifications for all involved.

Except, of course, for herself and Osprey. Whatever happened, they would be considered not to have been able to affect it - and indeed, Amy was pretty sure she couldn’t.

She hoped Osprey hadn’t noticed how excited that idea made her.

Now she knew she was under control, the other woman seemed to be very enthusiastic about obeying PsyKick’s commands. Milf toy, not boy toy, PsyKick had said; it clearly worked pretty well on Osprey’s psyche.

Amy knew she shouldn’t judge but it was, sometimes, hard not to.

…Osprey’s technique, she thought, wasn’t necessarily the best, but it was hard to fault that mindless, mechanical dedication to her duty. And it was hard to fault those tits, either, as PsyKick’s cock almost seemed to vanish inside them on each bouncing upstroke.

It wasn’t long before he came, an arcing spurt of off-white reward gushing into the air before it spattered down to paint Osprey’s chest.

Osprey sighed audibly, and Ms Miracle just about restrained herself from doing the same. It shouldn’t be satisfying to serve someone who’d just put themselves in control, she told herself crossly, but her own desires said otherwise.

Ms Miracle, PsyKick said, if only in her head. Clean up your teammate. After a moment he added, On your knees, with hands behind your back, using your tongue.

Every single part of the instruction added to her arousal. There was something in her kink that was happiest when the person in control knew exactly what they wanted.

It limited the need for her to force her mind to think. It limited the need for her to guess. It made it more likely her controller would praise her, or at least take a liking to her, and while she wasn’t entirely sure, Amy thought she might also have a praise kink.

“Yes, sir,” she said, and her voice was a chirpy, upbeat monotone. She sank to her knees where PsyKick had been standing, right in front of Osprey’s startled face, and put her hands behind her back.

Osprey reared back in surprise, then faltered, a strange expression on her face. Her hands went back under her breasts, lifting them, offering them as a display. Amy saw her eyes flicker up to PsyKick.

“That’s right,” he said softly. “Both of you…”

Amy needed no more prompting - she just needed the opportunity. She leaned forward and began to lick Osprey’s tits clean. It was going to be a long job, but it was one she had been ordered to do, and she would carry it out.

*

“It’s no good,” he told them both, standing in front of them, one hand on a bare breast from each woman, “I can’t decide which of you toys has better tits. I guess you both win. What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” they chorused. They even sounded happy to be getting the praise; he knew this was ultimately down to his control, but their compelled performances were easily real enough that he could ignore that and just enjoy the fantasy.

As far as he was concerned, so long as they were under his control, their responses were real. And he deserved them. Hadn’t he waited long enough for Mentros to teach him the refined uses of mental power? If he’d been shown that before, he wouldn’t have been pushed to use brute mental force when Ms Miracle discovered what he was up to.

“So I guess the next thing we grade you both on is your asses.” Releasing (reluctantly) his groping hold on their breasts, he held one finger up and whirled it in a quick, commanding circle. Both women obediently and instantly pivoted. He took a step back and studied their asses hands-off for a moment, smirking broadly.

He was going to do this again the moment he could get Sunstone in a line-up too. There was so much more open to him now they knew and accepted they were his to control.

Tyrone had been pretty sure, at that point, that he had everything back in his hands. He had started not just to enjoy himself, but also to relax again.

It wasn’t like everything was according to plan, but it was back under control. He could make this work.

And then the HQ alert klaxon went off. All three of them in Decon were jolted out of a perfect focus on what was going on directly around them.

“Ah, fuck,” Tyrone said, and he said it with feeling. His eyes reluctantly left two near-perfect asses, and with an effort he pulled himself back to full attention, pulled a serious expression back on to his face, and reminded himself that not only was he a hero, but he did truly enjoy being a hero.

And so did the women with him; he’d picked that up while in their minds, even if his focus had meant he hadn’t noticed all that much else.

“Alright, toys. Cover your tits.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused again, still both sounding so cheerful to obey as each of them took one tit in one hand, their costume in the other, and scooped them back into place, then repeated with the other.

Their movements weren’t quite as in sync as their voices, but it was close enough that Tyrone felt that strange, heady rush of power that comes when two people have been reduced so effectively down to objects that they become identical in function, if not in appearance.

He imagined doing this to Sunstone too, then, fleetingly, added Maxine Power into the line-up.

Then he remembered they were in the middle of a Justice Guard alert.

“We’re about to go into action, toys,” he said. “That means pretending you’re not toys but heroines. Like you’re trained for. So no calling me Sir and no waiting for orders. Not until I call you toy again. Understand?”

“I understand.” Both spoke as an individual, but they still spoke in chorus. Was that an echo of regret in Ms Miracle’s voice?

No. He had to be imagining things. He couldn’t afford that around an alert, around the others; his powers were growing but there was definitely still an upper limit on who and what he could affect.

“Let’s go, then. And not a word of what’s happened here.”

*

It wasn’t Osprey’s first time fighting M.A.L.I.G.N. overall, but it was her first time fighting this line-up, and she was very glad that this time she wasn’t fighting them alone.

M.A.L.I.G.N. had started in the eighties as an attempt to ‘take evil corporate’ and virtually none of the originals were currently active, aside from the Insider, who’d founded the organisation all that time ago - and the Insider was never out there in the field; however, the latest to wear the Outsider power suit was leading the charge on Nakamura Towers, home of corporate hero Chikara.

She was sure Cascade would be around somewhere; the self-styled ‘gentlewoman thief’ was a core part of the group, but she was never present of her own accord in a big fight.

On the other hand, the Outsider was problem enough for Bulwark, Ms Miracle was facing off with Macabre, and Stormcaller had his hands full with Ultra Violet, whose electromagnetic mastery made it surprisingly easy for her to neutralise his lightning. Beating someone down armed only with the wind required surprisingly precise work.

Osprey had therefore ended up in something of an aerial race against Firebreak, trying to keep the masked villain from burning holes into the buildings’ supports by keeping him distracted and off-balance.

She’d lost track of what Maxine Power was doing but knew she’d been talking about tackling Dozer; Sunstone, Osprey saw in occasional glimpses as she whirled around the towers, was hammering Macho Mammoth with glittering rainbow-hued physical illusions of herself, each of which flared out and reappeared elsewhere whenever the Mammoth managed to crush one of them.

Suddenly, Firebreak’s flight sputtered to a halt; hanging in the air, he turned to face her, an expression of total confusion on his face. Lorna wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth; she hit him not quite full-tilt, but as hard as she could justify against someone not actually much more resilient than the average human, then grabbed him by the back of the suit as he dropped.

She knew already what she’d see when she looked down; PsyKick was leaning out of a window a few floors below. He gave her a smirking salute before disappearing inside.

Osprey might not have reacted well to the smirk, but she was only pretending not to be a toy, so it didn’t seem to matter nearly as much as it might have.

Instead she went to help Stormcaller with Ultra Violet. She wasn’t the fastest of the Justice Guard, but she privately believed she might just be the most manoeuvrable of the group, and in the kind of winds Stormcaller was raising, that was what counted.

On the way, she saw Ms Miracle and Macabre locked in a grapple, flying toward the Tower walls in a corkscrewing pattern. She didn’t have time to look closely but she thought Ms Miracle’s grip on Macabre was maybe a little more… gropey… than she would probably want any reporters to see.

She couldn’t imagine what Macabre made of it.

“Osprey!” Stormcaller shouted. “You take this one, yes?”

Which made Ultra Violet switch her attention, or at least some of it, to Osprey, who jinked to the side to avoid a searing beam of electromagnetic energy, then came back up holding a severed portion of door as a shield. “I’m on it!” she called.

She was already projecting ahead. Stormcaller would join Bulwark against the Outsider; the two of them, freed up, would probably hit either Macabre or Macho Mammoth, and before long everything would be collapsing in the direction of the Justice Guard.

And that meant - she realised, shedding the door and catching a sudden updraft, wrapping her thighs around Ultra Violet’s torso and lifting her into a flipping, dizzying motion that disoriented her opponent enough to deliver a textbook elbow strike - that the question was going to be whether they could find Cascade fast enough.

Which meant that Cascade was her next target.

She went in search of her.

*

Cascade wasn’t worried about anything except the rest of M.A.L.I.G.N. managing to hold the Justice Guard off long enough that they wouldn’t have checked the room she was in before her job was done.

When her powers were active she was undetectable to the five senses; only the fact she was having to monitor the file transfer would make her catchable at all. The Insider had taken pains to make clear to the rest of the team that their job was to buy Cascade time; they also hadn’t been told which of the smaller networking hubs she’d be working at.

Not that there was any suspicion that the team had any turncoats; the issue was more that Macho Mammoth and Dozer weren’t too smart, and Macabre was the sort who might decide to mess with anyone if she didn’t win her battles. What they didn’t know they couldn’t pass on.

The first indication she had that the plan had a flaw was when her fingers stopped.

They didn’t stop anything in particular; didn’t feel numb; there was nothing strange about any of it except that her hands were now as locked into a shape as if she was an action figure.

Even concentrating on making fingers move didn’t help; they were just frozen in place at the end of her arms.

This indicated psionic activity, but that didn’t make any sense. The Insider hadn’t just briefed M.A.L.I.G.N. carefully, he’d spent months carefully leaking information to Taipan, the biggest supervillain operating in Australia, just in order to create a situation that would put Mentros half a world away for this job.

That way Cascade’s protection would be foolproof. They wouldn’t need to use the mental baffles to stop telepaths from finding her, which was essential; wearing the baffles slowed her own thoughts enough that she never felt comfortable with them on, and she was far from being as effective as she should be.

He had a sidekick, but they hadn’t really worried about him; nothing about his history indicated the kind of power needed to identify her without already knowing where in the building she was.

Without her fingers changing configuration, her right hand hit the Escape key, then Enter in quick succession, and the file transfer died.

That settled it, Cascade thought. PsyKick had managed to find her, the operation was blown - the only thing to do was to get out.

She stood and turned to face the door, and as it swung open she felt herself shut off her powers and present her wrists.

Ms Miracle cuffed her with a smirk that looked less like her and more like some overeager teenager. Lurking behind her, Osprey confirmed that Cascade had no good way out, even if she broke free of whatever suggestions had wormed into her head.