“Welcome to Paragon Bay, the stunning metropolis of the Aurelia Archipelago,” said the woman on the screen, her smile tight and plasticky. “Before you step off the plane, the Paragon Bay Safety Council requests your attention for this brief, mandatory safety video.”

Jenna ignored the impatient sighs and muttered complaints of “Oh, not that fucking video again!” from the passengers around her, doing her best to focus on the screen.

“Paragon Bay was founded nearly 300 years ago by refugees from Ecanria, seeking to escape the rule of Lord Waric,” the woman went on. “Among these refugees were the immortal Oracle of Ecanria — better known as Seraphim, the winged wonder — and the legendary techno-magical cyborg, Paragon. These two heroes were pivotal in establishing our great city, and also became our very first superheroes. Though Paragon would later give his life to save the city in the Blackstone Invasion of 2341, Seraphim is still with us, watching over the city and guiding new generations of supers.”

The woman’s smiling face was replaced by a still image of two people Jenna recognized from TV and Internet. The man in blue armour with a robotic arm and leg was Paragon; the winged, purple-haired woman in red was Seraphim. Neither of them looked like they were much older than thirty — forty at most — but if Paragon had really been around since the founding of Paragon Bay, and died in 2341, which was (Jenna tried to do the maths in her head) sixteen years ago, he would have been at least two hundred and eighty when he died. Being a techno-magical cyborg definitely kept you young.

“Today, Paragon Bay is counted as one of the four Powerhouse Nations, alongside Ecanria, Oceandria and Tir’Galdur,” the woman’s voice continued. “Though a small nation both in area and population, we have the highest concentration of superheroes in the world — metahumans who use their incredible powers to aid and protect humanity. This is why Paragon Bay is also called ‘The City of Supers’.”

The screen filled with images of people in skintight costumes, most of them women. There were a few men — the white-suited Count Ravenwood, a reformed vampire and current head of the White Council; Paradigm, encased in his signature robot suit and recently hailed as Paragon’s successor; and the aptly named Brute, the sole male member of the trio known as The Brute, the Brain, and the Blonde — but the women clearly dominated the scene. There was Ermine in her snowy white outfit; and that was Monkaya, with her monkey-like feet and prehensile tail; the one with the with bubblegum-pink skin and a sharply styled white mohawk had to be Miss Metamorph; and of course, next to her, the mute Mimette in her mime artist costume and white-painted face..

“Unfortunately,” the woman’s polished voice went on without changing its tone at all, “not all supers are heroes. Paragon Bay also has its share of supervillains. While the heroes are working tirelessly to keep our streets safe, there will be the occasional attack or rampage or robbery performed by a supervillain.”

The heroes vanished, replaced by an array of people whose outfits were equally skintight and colourful, but who thanks to the dramatic music seemed a lot more menacing. Once again, Jenna spotted a few familiar faces: Xandra the Succubus Queen, all crimson skin and glowing eyes (wasn’t she supposed to be sealed in a crystal or something?); the Plague Doctor with her creepy, bird-like mask; and the winged Purple Moth. Candykate, with her pink and white stiped stockings and frilly skirt seemed a little misplaced among them, but from that Jenna had read she’d used her “special candies” to reduce many a noble heroine to sex-crazed sluts…

“As such, if you should experience a supervillain attack during your stay, the Paragon Bay Safety council implores you to please follow these simple safety rules,” the woman continued, as bullet points began flashing across the screen.

“One, don’t panic. Stay calm and get to safety. If the police are nearby and haven’t been killed, mind-controlled, or mutated into hideous monsters, follow their instructions.

“Two, don’t get involved. Superheroes will handle the situation. Under no circumstances should you attempt to join any ongoing fight, nor should you ask to take a selfie with the villain.

“Three, if you find yourself trapped, imprisoned, or enslaved by the villain, stay calm and await rescue. If you’ve been hypnotized, mind-controlled, or turned into a mindless sex slave, you won’t be able to panic anyway. In that case, just relax and obey your Master until help arrives.”

The woman reappeared on-screen, her smile as artificial as ever. “As long as you follow these rules, you’ll be fine. If you have questions, feel free to call the Paragon Bay Safety Council at 555-1077.” (The number flashed on-screen so fast you’d need super-speed to jot it down.) “We wish you a pleasant stay here in Paragon Bay.”

The video ended and the screen went dark. Moments later. a green light above the exit lit up, signalling that passengers could now leave the plane.

Jenna rose from her seat, grabbed her backpack, and joined the stream of passengers as they shuffled down the narrow aisle… doing her best to ignore their chatter about supers and supervillains, because she was already nervous enough. This was only her second time leaving the safety of Harmony Heights… and the first time had been one week-long school trip to New Lakeport when she was fifteen, and she’d got food poisoning and spent half of the trip sick and bed-ridden. And here she was now, heading straight into Supervillain Central.

Not that Harmony Heights didn’t have any supers of its own. In fact, it had two. And not just metahumans with a few flashy abilities they used for gardening or party tricks, either. Actual supers, with costumes and code names and everything. But compared to the showboating elite of Paragon Bay, Blaze and Nightshift were pretty low-key. Blaze was essentially a glorified firefighter with a bit of pyrotechnic flair, and Nightshift was more like an urban legend — a shadowy figure that floated above the town after dark, that many had encountered but few knew anything about.

Jenna had met Blaze once, at a charity fireman’s ball. He’d mostly stood around looking awkward. Nightshift… she’d never actually seen Nightshift. He — or she — only came out at night, and Jenna had never been a late-night person. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, she was usually too exhausted to do anything but crawl into bed. So you could say she had limited experience with supers.

Paragon Bay, though? Seemed like you couldn’t turn a corner without running into some kind of super. And if you were unlucky, it might be a supervillain who’d kill or enslave you just for getting in the way.

Jenna took a deep breath and followed the line of chattering passengers into the jet bridge and toward the terminal. Well… no turning back now. She was here.

She pulled out her phone, switched off airplane mode, and sent two quick texts.

The first, to her father:  Hey, Dad. Landed safe. Heading into the city now. I’ll call you later. Love you.

The second, to Rosalyn:  Hi! I’m at the airport now. You did say you’d send someone to pick me up, right? Oh, and are you going to tell me what this “amazing offer” is now? I’m dying of curiosity. — Jenna

No reply from her father, but she hadn’t expected one. He was probably zoned out in front of the TV, oblivious to things like text messages. Ever since the textile factory closed and he lost his job, he barely moved from the couch and barely acknowledged anything that didn’t happen on the screen in front of him… Jenna could see him for her inner eye. Would he manage without her for an entire week…?

But then, her phone buzzed with a reply from Rosalyn: Please don’t die before you get to Westwood Tower. I’ll tell you everything then, I promise.  My driver, Ruby, is already waiting for you in the pickup area. ;)  XXXOOO, Rosalyn

The “XXXOOO” made Jenna’s heart flutter. Whether she was fretting about her dad or spiralling over supervillains, Rosalyn always knew how to make her feel better.

The terminal was huge and noisy; a stark contrast to the small, sleepy airport in Harmony Heights. The air smelled like coffee and perfume. Gleaming storefronts lined the concourse, selling everything from hot beverages to high-end designer wear (with a distinct superhero theme, Jenna noticed). A churning sea of travellers surged past, the loud, indistinct buzz of their voices occasionally punctuated by the tinny voice from the loudspeakers announcing a new arrival or departure. Someone brushed past her, muttering into a headset. Somewhere else, a child was crying. It was overwhelming… but also weirdly exciting.

Jenna took a moment to soak it all in. Then, she adjusted the straps of her backpack, dodged a man wheeling an overloaded suitcase and an elderly couple arguing in a language she didn’t understand, and began following the signs towards the pickup area.

The ambient noise smoothed into a low, steady background: footsteps, suitcase wheels, the soft murmur of voices. Up ahead, a velvet rope marked off what could only be the pickup zone — if for no other reason, then because a woman was standing just behind it, holding a placard with the name JENNA printed in crisp, bold letters.

The woman was stylishly dressed in tailored black slacks and a fitted blouse, with her dark hair pulled into a bun so tight it looked sculpted. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark shades, but she must have spotted Jenna anyway, because her face lit up in a smile. “Jenna?” she called. “Hi! I’m Ruby, Miss Rosalyn’s driver. Welcome to Paragon Bay and all that…” She trailed off, her head angling slightly, as if trying to make sense of something. “You don’t have any luggage?” 

“Um, hello. Yes, I’m Jenna. No, I don’t have any luggage. Just this backpack.” Jenna shifted her weight, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. 

“For the whole week?” Ruby tilted her head again. The sunglasses made it hard to read her expression, but her tone carried a flicker of amusement. “I thought Miss Rosalyn said you were here for your entire Spring Break.”

“I… like to travel light,” Jenna murmured. In truth, with her limited travel experience she hadn’t been sure how much to pack… and now that she was here, the backpack felt incredibly small — but she wasn’t about to admit that to a stranger.

Ruby seemed to pick up on it anyway. She offered a knowing, if slightly patronizing, smile. “Of course,” she said. “Let’s get going. Car’s right outside.”

Jenna squinted as they stepped out of the airconditioned building and into the bright afternoon sun. She hadn’t expected Paragon Bay to be this hot — within a few steps, her jeans had already started clinging uncomfortably to her legs, and she found herself wishing she’d worn shorts or a breezy skirt instead.

“You know,” Ruby said as they crossed the parking lot, “not that it’s my business, but since you’re here for the week, you might want to hit a few shops. Grab something lighter to wear. After all…” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “You’ve got five million credits to spend, right?”

Jenna felt herself blush. “You know about the five million?”

“Oh, Miss Rosalyn doesn’t keep any secrets from me.”

“I… I didn’t ask for that money,” Jenna said quickly. “Rosalyn really wanted me to come, I wasn’t sure I could afford the trip, and the next thing I knew, there were five million credits in my bank account. I tried to send it back, but Rosalyn wouldn’t hear of it. She said Grandmother Grace didn’t want to send a private jet, so I’d have to just take a regular plane, and I should think of the money as an incentive to hear her offer…” She trailed off, realizing she was babbling.

Ruby gave her a sideways smile. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. When Miss Rosalyn wants something — or someone — she usually gets her way.”

“That’s pretty much what she said too,” Jenna murmured.

That was the thing about dating an insanely rich girl: they could get, well… overenthusiastic.

.

 

Five months earlier…

“I wish you didn’t have to go back to Paragon Bay,” Jenna sighed.

“So do I,” Rosalyn replied softly. “But my mother’s been on my ass for days now. We were supposed to wrap filming weeks ago.”

They lay naked on the king-sized bed in Rosalyn’s hotel room, bathed in late-afternoon sunlight. The warm light cast soft shadows across their bare bodies. They’d been together almost three weeks — and they’d been fucking for almost as long.

Rosalyn rolled onto her side to face Jenna, her long red hair spilling across the pillow. Jenna drank in the sight of her… the beautiful face, the soft curves, the smooth, perfect, completely hairless skin… she still marvelled at how smooth the girl was. Rosalyn seemed so casual about grooming, yet her skin was always flawless. At first, Jenna had wondered if she was using illusion magic to fake it, but after three very intimate weeks, she knew better. It was all real.

“I tried stalling,” Rosalyn said, tracing slow patterns along Jenna’s arm with her fingers. “Told the crew we needed actual close-ups of Nightshift. Which we totally do. Those long-distance shots of a floating cloak? Boring as fuck. But those fucking whiners came back at me with a whole tirade about how they’d tried everything — drones, helicopters, even staging fake muggings to lure her down — and nothing worked.” She shrugged. “That woman’s too damn elusive.”

Jenna tilted her head. “Wait, how do you know Nightshift’s a woman? I’ve seen the footage. That floating cloak doesn’t exactly scream ‘woman’ to me.”

“Okay, I don’t know she’s a woman,” Rosalyn admitted. “She just feels like one. You know? The way she floats high above the city, watching everything… then swoops down on criminals and ne’er-do-wells, drains their energy without actually hurting them, and vanishes again.”

“And that tells you she’s a woman?”

“Well, I figure if it was a man, he’d rough them up a little. Throw a punch, leave some bruises. Right?”

“Unless he’s a pacifist. Or some kind of ghost who can’t throw punches. Or just not a fan of unnecessary violence.”

Rosalyn held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Point made. But if Nightshift has any issues with the pronouns I’m assigning her, she can swoop down here and correct me. Heh, maybe that’s how we get that close-up.”

They both laughed.

“You should tell your mother that,” Jenna giggled.

“Better not,” Rosalyn sighed. “She has zero sense of humour about her film schedules. She’d just accuse me of stalling so I can spend more time with the hot girl I met on set. And honestly… she wouldn’t be wrong.”

A warm flush spread through Jenna’s chest. The hot girl — that was her. 

When a film crew from Westwood Inc had come to Harmony Heights to shoot part of their new documentary, Supers Around the World, Jenna had seen it as a golden opportunity. Westwood wasn’t just another production company — it was a global multimedia empire, rumoured to own nearly half the entertainment industry. Even landing a role as an extra on one of their projects would be a huge deal for a small-town acting student from Harmony Heights Academy of Performing Arts.

She’d been thrilled to be picked, though she hadn’t expected more than a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment on camera. She certainly hadn’t expected to catch the eye of Rosalyn Westwood.

The Rosalyn Westwood.

Rosalyn was the oldest and probably most famous of the six “Westwood Grandchildren”, and the only one born with metahuman powers. Even as a child, she’d shown an uncanny talent for conjuring illusions, and by her teens she was creating special effects for some of the company’s biggest productions — more realistic (and far cheaper) than anything computers or props could manage.

Of course, the reason for those powers was something of an open secret. Everyone knew that, in her youth, “Grandmother” Grace Westwood had been kidnapped and spent a year in the harem of Lord Waric of Ecanria, and when she’d returned to Paragon Bay she’d been pregnant. A few months later, she gave birth to triplets — one of whom would grow up to be Rosalyn’s mother. It was never officially confirmed that Waric was the father of Grace’s triplets… but most people could do the math. And when Rosalyn, first born of the grandchildren, started bending light and sound to her will, it was seen as proof enough.

There was another reason Rosalyn stood out, though: in recent years, she’d become something of a queer icon. Ever since she came out as a lesbian, Westwood Inc. had become noticeably more LGBTQ-friendly in its programming — and Rosalyn had gone from being the “token metahuman” to the “token lesbian metahuman.” She was often seen accompanying Grandmother Grace to major events… red carpets, charity galas, film premieres… always poised, always glowing, always just a little bit untouchable.

It was said that Rosalyn Westwood helped a whole generation of queer girls come out of the closet… and Jenna had been one of those girls. Rosalyn had been her first big celebrity crush. She’d often fantasised about meeting her… and now, here they were… naked and cuddling in Rosalyn’s hotel room.

Officially, Rosalyn had come to Harmony Heights to assist with effects work — her mother, Charlotte Westwood, was producing the shoot. But in practice, ever since she and Jenna had locked eyes on that first day of filming, she’d spent far more time with Jenna than with the crew.

Jenna had heard of whirlwind romances before, but she’d never thought one would happen to her. And yet here she was — a small-town theatre student, still living with her unemployed and chronically depressed dad — being swept off her feet by someone as glamorous, wealthy, and gorgeous as Rosalyn Westwood.

Rosalyn’s powers made sneaking around easy. With a flick of her hand, she could wrap Jenna in illusion, making her invisible to prying eyes. Slipping her in and out of the hotel unnoticed. It was thrilling (and a little unsettling) to be hidden like that. To know that Rosalyn could erase her from view at will…

“Hey,” Rosalyn’s voice pulled her out of the thought. “You okay?”

Jenna blinked. “Yeah. Just… thinking. I’m going to miss this. I’m going to miss you.”

Rosalyn brushed her fingers along Jenna’s cheek. “You know, you could come with me. To Paragon Bay.”

Jenna started to laugh, but then she saw Rosalyn’s face. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. You can come with us on the private jet. If you’re worried about my mother, don’t be. She doesn’t care who I bring home with me, as long as I don’t hold up production.”

“I… I can’t just leave Harmony Heights!”

“Why not?” Rosalyn asked, still casual. “What’s keeping you here?”

“My… that is, I’ve got classes. I can’t just skip my last term of college!”

“There are colleges in Paragon Bay. Much better ones.”

“And my dad. He needs me around. He doesn’t have anyone else.”

“Your dad’s a grown man. What he needs is a proper therapist, not a daughter who puts her life on hold for him.”

“And… we’ve only known each other for a month! And what about the paparazzi? You’ve been hiding me this whole time…”

“That was for your sake, not mine. Small town gossip and all that. In Paragon Bay, nobody cares who’s fucking who.”

Jenna’s heart thudded. The offer sounded so easy, so tempting. Just walk away from everything, dive headfirst into a new life. But… what if it didn’t last? What if Rosalyn got bored, or moved on? And still… what if this was her chance? Her way out?

Before the silence could stretch too far, Rosalyn spoke again, her voice quieter now. “Okay. I get it. This came out of nowhere. I’m sorry. But I… I really like you, you know?”

“I really like you too,” Jenna said, almost at once. “It’s just… leaving everything. My dad, my studies —”

“We’ll figure it out,” Rosalyn said. “Look, I do have to go back to Paragon Bay, but we’ll stay in touch. Phone calls, texts, video chats — whatever you want. Let’s see how we feel in a few months. How about Spring Break? That’s in March, right?”

“Yeah. March.”

“That’s five months away. If you haven’t grown sick of my calls by then, I’ll invite you to spend Spring Break with me in Paragon Bay. And who knows — maybe by then, I’ll have an exciting offer for you.”

“Exciting offer?” Jenna raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no,” Rosalyn grinned. “I’m not spoiling the surprise. But will you at least think about it?”

“I… okay,” Jenna whispered. “I’ll think about it.”

Rosalyn smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “Good girl.”

 

 

Jenna was pulled out of her thoughts by Ruby’s voice: “Here’s your ride. Let me get the door for you.”

She blinked — ’ride’ was almost an insulting word when used about the limo in front of her. It looked like something out of a movie: sleek, black, and gleaming, with deep-tinted windows and the kind of presence that screamed wealth. Every inch of it oozed luxury.

Ruby opened the door, revealing an even more extravagant interior: plush leather seats, polished wood panelling with marble accents, hand-crafted textiles, two flatscreens (one for movies, the other showing a 360-degree live camera feed), and a fully stocked minibar with its own fridge.

“Wow,” Jenna breathed, sinking into what might have been the most comfortable seat ever.

“You like it, babygirl?” Ruby called from the driver’s seat.

“Yes…” Jenna exhaled, but then the word caught up with her. “Babygirl?”

“Babygirl.” Ruby smirked at her in the rear-view mirror. “No offence, but you’re just so precious. Getting flustered over a few million dollars and a limo. Honestly, this isn’t even one of the fancy ones. No dance floor, no jacuzzi, nothing.”

“Jacuzzi?” Jenna echoed.

“A kind of hot tub,” Ruby explained, as if worried that Jenna might not be familiar with such modern devices. “But don’t worry, you won’t need one on this trip. It’s only half an hour to Westwood Tower — maybe a little longer if traffic’s slow. So sit back and relax. Oh, and help yourself to anything from the minibar. It’s important to hydrate… especially if you’re not used to the climate.”

Jenna wasn’t sure how to respond to any of that. She had the distinct feeling that some sort of test was going on, and that she wasn’t doing very well… but she couldn’t even begin to imagine what that test might be. So, to hide her growing feeling of anxiety as Ruby started the car and began driving out of the parking lot, she turned her attention to the minibar, pretending to study the selection of sodas, fruit juices, and sparkling water. No alcohol, but that was probably for the best. Imagine showing up at Rosalyn’s place drunk.

She picked a can of Cool Crush Cola, popped it open, and took a long sip. It was cool and fizzy in her mouth, a little sweeter than she remembered this particular brand of cola to be, but the coldness was refreshing.

Ruby’s face was visible in the rearview mirror. Jenna couldn’t tell with those sunglasses, but it seemed like the woman was watching her. 

“I’ll just…” Jenna mumbled awkwardly, pulling out her phone. “…see if my dad texted me.”

He hadn’t.

She stared at the screen for a moment, then, without taking her eyes off the phone opened her browser to find Paragon Bay’s local news feed. It was always a good idea to check what was going on in the local news, the told herself, especially here in Supervillain Central — what if some monster was running around in the city right now, or some horny supervillain was hypnotizing everyone in the city to get naked and fuck each other as a part of some population boom scheme? Better to be forewarned. And if it meant she could make the silence between herself and Ruby less awkward, well, so much the better.

The headlines turned out to be… surprisingly ordinary. A group of local politicians was organising a beach cleanup at Crystal Seas. High Chanchellor Verenthia announced an open meeting in the City Hall. A petition was going around to reduce dockside noise in the Bayfront district. Wilde-Rose Industries was hosting a job fair in Moonstone. It was all perfectly mundane; the kind of stories she could’ve seen back home in Harmony Heights, just with different names and fancier districts.

The only headline that even hinted at something dramatic was an article about the missing CEO of SweetSpot Foods. She’d apparently vanished just before a meeting with the Davidson Jelly Empire about a potential merger, and now nobody knew where she was, so the merger couldn’t happen. An odd story, but it didn’t scream ‘supervillain attack’. Not unless there was a supervillain with some weird hate-on for jelly or something.

Jenna took another sip of cola and rubbed her eyes. Strange… for some reason, she suddenly felt tired…

Blinking several times to wake herself up, she risked a glance at Ruby in the rearview mirror. The woman’s eyes were still on the road… or so Jenna hoped; those sunglasses still made it impossible to tell. 

And then, up ahead of them, Jenna saw the city. Paragon Bay. Home to over three and a half million people — including thousands of supers, metahumans, demons, and other supernatural beings. She’d seen it in pictures and movies, of course, but seeing it in real life was something else entirely… the buildings rose up, all glass and metal and impossible shapes, like someone had designed it for a sci-fi movie and forgot to tone it down for real life. Even from a distance, it looked powerful. Unreal. Like a place that made ordinary people disappear.

A flash of movement crossed the sky — a blur of yellow and orange that vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

Jenna sat up straight, nearly choking on her cola. “Ruby!”

“Mmm? Oh, look at that,” said Ruby calmly. “That was Goldstreak. Or at least I think it was her. Not many supers wear yellow and orange. She’s part of the Super Chick Alliance.”

“Super… Chick… Alliance?” Jenna echoed.

“Yeah, that’s what they call themselves. I think it was Ermine’s idea. You know Ermine? The White Vigilante of the Blackstone district? She took a bunch of younger heroines under her wing, to keep them from straying from the straight and narrow or whatever. And now they’re an ‘alliance’. You see them around sometimes… patrolling, being visible, making sure things look safe.”

“Oh.” Jenna slouched back into the seat. Her heartbeat slowed again as she took another sip of cola. “So… not a supervillain attack, then.”

Ruby actually snorted. “You watched that ridiculous Safety Council video, I take it.”

“Um… yeah,” Jenna admitted. “They wouldn’t let us off the plane until we’d watched it. Something about safety… ahhh… ah-h-hhh…”  A yawn crept up on her, swallowing the end of her sentence.

Ruby didn’t seem to notice. “That video’s fucking stupid,” she said hotly. “Makes it sound like there’s a supervillain lurking behind every corner, just waiting to hypnotize tourists and turn them into sex slaves. You know people outside Paragon Bay call this place ‘Supervillain Central’?”

“Really…?” Jenna blinked. Her eyelids felt so heavy… why did they feel so heavy…?

“Let me tell you something, babygirl.” Ruby’s voice was smooth and warm. “This city doesn’t have more villains than anywhere else. The villains we have here are just a little more honest about who they are, that’s all.”

“Could you… please stop calling me… stahp callin’ me… babygirl?” Jenna mumbled. Her eyes fluttered. The seat was cradling her like a warm, slow wave. “I’m twenty. I’m… I’m twenny… ’m notta baby…”

Everything felt softer. Slower. The limo wasn’t driving anymore… it was gliding… rocking gently, like a cradle… or a swing…  her breathing sounded loud in her ears, deep and rhythmic.

“But you’re falling asleep, babygirl…” Ruby’s voice came from far away.

“Don’ call me… don’ call meh… babygirrllll…” Jenna whispered. The world tilted gently… and slipped away.  “…baaaaybeegrrrlll… zzzz….”

Everything around her went dark, and she knew no more.

 

 

 

Someone was lifting her up, carrying her… then she was naked, lying on something soft… her legs spread… all naked… someone was murmuring strange words. A strange heat on her crotch… then it vanished.

“Smooth as a baby,” the voice purred.

She floated through a dark, blissful void. Or was she still lying down…? Maybe being carried again. She didn’t know. She didn’t really care. Time passed, or maybe it didn’t. It was hard to tell. The murmuring voice came and went… she was moving around, or being moved, from place to place. It was all very strange and vague, but also soothing… comforting… She liked it. She wanted it to continue, wanted it to continue, wanted it to…

…ah…

Hands were stroking her body. Many hands. Stroking and caressing, petting her like a kitten… ah… ahhh… licking her breasts… kneading her buttocks… playing with her bellybutton and… nnnn… tongue in her pussy… tongue deep in her pussy… something soft and warm and wet pressing against her face…

“Lick me, babygirl. Lick Mistress nice and deep.”

She obeyed… she obeyed her Mistress… she licked, and it tasted salty and sweet and musky… and there it was again, Mistress’s tongue… oh, fuck, it felt so good… felt so good… ah… ah… ahhhh…

More time passed. She floated in and out of a vague awareness. Sometimes there were voices. She was being moved — carried, maybe, or walking, though she never quite knew which. She responded when spoken to. She felt her mouth move, heard her own voice, but couldn’t make out what she was saying.

And then she was fucking again… fucking… ahhhh… more hands, more tongues… her butt… someone was fucking her butt… and she was licking someone again… someone was licking her, but it wasn’t Mistress… wasn’t… ohhh fuck, they were licking her so deep… it was… aahhh… her clit… they were playing with her clit…

She was cumming. She was cumming. She was…

Something shifted.

She wasn’t completely sure, but she had the feeling she wasn’t naked anymore. She couldn’t tell what she was wearing, but there was something. Mistress’s voice was in her ear again, no longer soft and cooing — more intense now, more serious.

“It’s coming, babygirl… it’s attacking Emerald Hills. Other heroes are keeping it at bay, but they can’t stop it. Only you can stop it for good.”

“I obey my Mistress…” she murmured. It felt good to say that.

“You already know how to do it. You’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“Yes, Mistress…”

“Come on, then.”

She was flying. Not just floating — flying. She knew exactly what to do. Even if she couldn’t see anything, could barely hear, had no idea where she was or why… she knew where her Target was.

Strange screeches. The Target was close. Other voices rang out, clearer now — not perfectly distinct, but closer.

“…just blasted it with enough water to put out a forest fire, and it’s still standing! What’s it made of?!”

“I don’t know, but if this is another one of Waric’s monsters…”

“Hurry up with that portal, Evenstar! Mimette can’t keep this up much longer!”

“I got it, I got it.”

The voices muffled again… until one cut through them all. One she always knew.

“Oh, haven’t you met my friend, Sleeping Spectre?” That was Mistress. She always recognised Mistress. “Stay back. She’ll deal with this thing.”

The Target was in front of her now. Huge. Bigger than any she’d faced before. But that didn’t matter. She raised her hand and focused… waited…

…and pulled.

Everything turned bright and warm.

 

 

 

 

Jenna sighed blissfully, savouring that sweet, dreamy moment between sleep and wakefulness. She pulled the silk covers closer around herself and snuggled against the soft, warm body beside her.

Wait… silk covers? Soft, warm body?!

She opened her eyes and looked straight at the gorgeous face of Rosalyn.

Rosalyn stirred and glanced at her. “Mmm… morning,” she said with a lazy smile.

“Morning,” Jenna echoed. Her head swam in sleepy confusion as she sat up… and instantly realized that she was naked. “I’m sorry…” she said as she blinked and tried to clear the fog away. “This is probably a stupid question, but… I don’t remember anything… where are we?”

Rosalyn stretched and ran a hand through her messy hair. Even with bedhead and no makeup, she was as stunning as ever. “Westwood Tower,” she said. “My personal suite.”

“Oh,” said Jenna. “When did I get here?”

Rosalyn sat up. She was just as naked as Jenna, and completely unashamed. She slid out of bed and got to her feet. “Mmm… about a week ago,” she said.

Jenna couldn’t help but stare, just a little. Rosalyn’s naked body was just as perfect as she remembered… just as sexy and smooth and soft as in her memories… not to mention all the dreams and fantasies… no body hair, just soft skin that seemed to gleam in the morning light… Jenna sighed in appreciation, and then realized something. She unwrapped the covers and glanced down at herself.

Oh. That was what felt different. Her own skin was just as smooth as Rosalyn’s. Even her pussy was completely bald and hairless, which it hadn’t been since before she hit puberty. It wasn’t a panicked realisation — more of a slow, curious one.

“Did I… shave?” she asked.

“No, I shaved you,” Rosalyn replied as she stepped onto the floor and stretched. “Well, technically, I hit you with a painless hair removal spell. Much more convenient than razors or wax, and it lasts longer… you’ll be completely smooth for at least six months. By the way, now that you’re awake, let me give you the grand tour of my bedroom.” She swept an arm around. “Bed. Nightstand. Walls. TV and stereo. Dresser. Mirror. Walk-in closet. Computer desk. Door to the bathroom. Door to the hallway. Window. Bookshelves. Family photos. Done.”

Jenna looked around the enormous room. The bed was huge, easily big enough for four people, but it took up only a fraction of the space. The décor was mostly lavender and cream, with accents of gold and silver. Three walls were covered in intricate patterns, paintings, and photos, while the fourth was made entirely of windows, offering a breathtaking view of a clear blue sky and a sprawling cityscape. Rosalyn was standing in front of the window, completely unconcerned about her naked body.

“Um…” Jenna began.

Rosalyn turned to look at her. Maybe she’d guessed what Jenna was thinking, because she giggled. “Relax, girl. One-way windows. We can see out, but nobody can see in. Even if a super like Goldstreak flew by right outside, she wouldn’t see a thing.” She sauntered over to the full-body mirror and frowned at herself. “Ugh, tell me I’m not getting a pimple. Why does chocolate have to taste so good?”

Jenna rubbed her forehead. She had a vague feeling she should be really upset about something, but couldn’t quite figure out what. And then Rosalyn’s earlier words hit her. “Wait,” she said. “What do you mean I got here a week ago? I arrived just today… didn’t I?” She blinked several times to clear her head. “The last thing I remember was… I was in the limo. Ruby called me… babygirl… and then… and then…”

“You fell asleep,” said Rosalyn, still examining herself in the mirror. “Remember that Cool Crush Cola? It was laced with sleeping potions.”

“The cola… yeah, I remember… sleeping potions?” Jenna repeated, brain struggling to keep up. “I was drugged?”

“Of course not. Sleeping potions aren’t drugs,” said Rosalyn casually. “But they did keep you asleep for about a week.”

“Oh, so that’s why…” Jenna blinked as the words sank in. “But… wait. If I’ve been asleep for a week… that means Spring Break is over. My dad… my studies…” she said, trailing off. She felt like she should be more concerned about this, but the urgency just wasn’t there.

“Already taken care of,” Rosalyn said lightly, still gazing into the mirror. “You’ve been talking to your dad every day. Well, I have… but I used your voice. He didn’t mind when you said you’d stay for an extra week. In fact, he seemed happy you were having such a good time. As for your studies…” She paused, turning back to face Jenna. “That’s part of what I wanted to discuss.”

“…oh?”

Rosalyn smiled conspiratorially. “It’s about time you learned about my amazing offer! Sorry it took so long to get around to it, but you haven’t died of curiosity yet, so I think we’re good.”

“Your… offer…?”

“The one I’ve been hinting at for months. The one you were dying to know about. Did you forget it while you slept?”

“No, I remember, but…” Jenna tried to muster some stronger emotions, but she couldn’t. “I don’t get it. Did Ruby put sleeping potions in my drink?”

“Ruby?” Rosalyn giggled, turning from the mirror to give Jenna a cheeky grin. The exact same patronising grin, in fact, Ruby had given her. “Oh, babygirl. Ruby never existed.”

“Don’t call me babygirl,” said Jenna automatically. And then her sleepy brain made the connection. “Ruby… wait. You’re Ruby?”

“Or Ruby is me. You know I’m an illusionist. I can change how I look and sound.” Rosalyn left the mirror behind and sauntered back to the bed. “Sometimes I use my powers to hide a pimple, sometimes I help with special effects for one of my mother’s films, and sometimes I pretend to be a limo driver named Ruby.”

Jenna stared at her in dull fascination. “But… why?”

“For fun.” Rosalyn sat down and placed an arm around Jenna. “And because it’s a great way to stay anonymous. I can personally fetch important guests without anyone knowing it’s me. Because you are important, Jenna. You’re more important than you can imagine.”

Jenna looked at her, lost for words. None of this was making any sense, Least of all her own weirdly muted emotions. After a long moment, she took a deep breath and said the only thing that came to mind: “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Lucky that I prepared a little presentation, then.” Rosalyn bopped her on the nose with a slender finger, then reached over to the nightstand and picked up a silvery remote control. “Having a media company at your beck and call is pretty convenient at times. Some of this is security cam footage, some of it was filmed by experimental drones, some of it was filmed by… some people I know. I’d tell you this movie may contain some upsetting scenes, but I took the liberty of placing you under a spell before you woke up. You’ll be perfectly calm for at least twelve more hours.”

Jenna blinked, her mind slowly wrapping around that fact. “You… messed with my emotions?”

Rosalyn smirked. “Well, if placing you under a spell that dulls all your negative emotions fear, anger, or sadness counts as ‘messing with your emotions’…” (she made air quotes)  “…then yes, I messed with your emotions. But so what? Do you want to panic and feel miserable?”

“No… I guess not…” Jenna said, feeling the calm settle even deeper.

“Exactly,” Rosalyn said, pressing a button on the remote. “Now just relax and watch.”

The giant TV on the wall flickered to life, displaying what was clearly a view of Rosalyn’s bedroom. In the bed lay a naked and sleeping Jenna, while Rosalyn — wearing nothing but a red bra and panties — stood over her. The camera zoomed in and focused on Jenna’s hairy pussy… which began glowing with a soft red light… and when it faded, so did all her pubic hair, leaving her just as smooth as…

“…smooth as a baby,” Rosalyn’s voice purred from the screen.

This was followed by close-ups of Jenna’s legs, armpits, and forearms, all of which got the same treatment: a gentle red glow, then all hair was gone and nothing but smooth, hairless skin was left.

In real life, Rosalyn let her fingers stroke over Jenna’s skin. “I told you it’s more convenient than wax or razors.”

On screen, the scene shifted. Rosalyn, now naked, had her head between Jenna’s legs. The camera caught Jenna’s slack face, her chest rising and falling, her mouth half-open in sleepy moans. The camera circled to catch better angles of Rosalyn’s bare ass — and then the scene shifted again. Now they were in a sixty-nine. Jenna was still clearly asleep, but she was licking Rosalyn with earnest enthusiasm while Rosalyn returned the favour.

Jenna felt herself grow hot.

This… this shouldn’t be turning her on. She was asleep in that video. She hadn’t known, hadn’t chosen…! But the warmth in her belly didn’t care. Maybe it was Rosalyn’s spell. Maybe it was some deeply buried kink she didn’t know she had. Or maybe it was just the sheer wrongness of watching herself on TV… naked, helpless, and being used like a doll…

And then another scene. Still Rosalyn’s bed, but now a third girl had joined them. A naked blonde who looked vaguely familiar, fucking the sleeping Jenna in the ass with a strap-on while Rosalyn sat nearby, masturbating with a large pink dildo.

Before Jenna could figure out where she’d seen the blonde before, the footage shifted again. A threesome now; Rosalyn, the blonde girl, and Jenna.

“Oooh, Rose…” the blonde moaned, grinding her hips against Jenna’s mouth. “Your new toy is so good at licking pussy…”

“Rosalyn…” real-life Jenna whispered, swallowing hard. “Who is that girl? I feel like I know her from somewhere…”

“Of course you do.” Rosalyn kissed her shoulder, then slid down toward Jenna’s thighs, grinning wickedly. “That’s my cousin Lily.”

“L-Lily—oh!” Jenna gasped. Of course. Lily Mae Westwood. The second-oldest of the six Westwood grandchildren. Daughter of Rosalyn’s uncle Adam. Not as famous as Rosalyn, but very active on social media and always present at Westwood family events and media stunts.

“Yes, Lily. I share everything with her. Her and Sarah.” Rosalyn’s breath was hot against Jenna’s cunt.

“Sar—ah!” Jenna moaned as Rosalyn’s thumb brushed her clit.

On the screen, the scene had changed again. A fourth girl had joined the trio, and this time Jenna recognised her instantly: Sarah Anne Westwood. Cute face, pink-dyed hair, bubbly energy — and of course completely naked, kneeling between Jenna’s legs and licking her pussy while Lily played with Sarah’s clit and Rosalyn straddled Jenna’s chest, leaning down to kiss her unconscious lips.

Sarah wasn’t one of the six Westwood grandchildren; she was the granddaughter of Grace’s sister, Caroline, and as such she was Rosalyn and Lily’s second cousin. If Jenna remembered correctly, she attended the Westwood Performing Arts College and had even had a few supporting roles in cheesy action movies. Now that same Sarah was in a pile of naked girls… and licking Jenna like she’d done it a hundred times before.

Jenna didn’t even know when she’d started playing with her own breasts. Rosalyn’s naughty little tongue was probing her deeper… deeper… oh, fuc, it was so good, she was close… so close… but holding herself back… she didn’t want to cum yet… she wanted to see more, wanted to see herself being used and moved and toyed with like a beautiful, helpless puppet by the Westwoods. It was so hot… too hot… Why was it so hot? Why did watching herself be helpless, toyed with, and downright humiliated just make her… aahhh… make her so… oooohhh…

She exploded in pleasure. Her entire body shook and spasmed as the orgasm hit her in long, overwhelming waves. She heard her own voice, moaning and gasping as she came… and came… she wasn’t Jenna… she was a toy… she was a doll… she belonged to them. She belonged to…

“…Mistress…” she gasped, breathless, as she flopped back onto the bed, breathing hard.

Rosalyn looked up, her face shining with wetness. “What was that, babygirl…?”

“I… obey… my… Mistress…” Jenna managed to croak.

“Ah… so you remember now?” Rosalyn slid back up and kissed her, slow and deep, letting Jenna taste herself on her lips.

“Yes… no… I don’t know.” Jenna panted. “Was this the offer…? You and your cousins… and… I didn’t even know that they… I mean, I thought—”

“You thought I was the only lesbian Westwood?” Rosalyn smirked. “Oh, I am. Technically, anyway. I’m the only one who doesn’t like guys, but liking girls is practically a family trait. Lily’s bisexual, and Sarah… Sarah’s just up for anything. Which is pretty handy when you live in this city. We’re a pervy bunch. And like I said, I share everything with my cousins.”

“Including me,” said Jenna.

“Yes, and you loved it,” Rosalyn purred. “Don’t try to pretend you didn’t. Watching that video got you so horny you came almost before I even started licking you. You obey your Mistress, don’t you?”

“I obey my Mistress.” The words slipped from Jenna’s mouth before she even thought to resist.

Rosalyn kissed her again. Jenna tasted herself on the girl’s lips, and her body gave a happy little shiver.

“Of course you do,” Rosalyn whispered. “But that wasn’t actually the offer. That was just a bonus. A little pre-offer show to loosen you up.” She reached for the remote again. “The main feature starts now. Watch.”

Jenna focused on the screen again to see that the toying and fucking had ended. A fully dressed Rosalyn was smiling at the camera… well, more fully dressed than she had been. She wore a skimpy outfit consisting mostly of a cleavage- and midriff-baring red halter top, a red loincloth, knee-high boots, and dark red bracelets. A golden circlet adorned her head, with a large ruby set in the front.

She nodded at the camera, which then zoomed in on another figure in the background. It was Jenna, still asleep, but now standing upright and dressed similarly to Rosalyn. Her outfit was the same skimpy top and loincloth, but in white instead of red — and she wore no circlet, boots, or bracelets.

Rosalyn handed Jenna what looked like a white cloak and hood. “Put these on, babygirl…” she said, then turned back to the camera. “Hi, Jenna! It’s me, Rosalyn! Well, when I’m dressed like this, I call myself Dream Jewel. I thought you’d appreciate seeing the birth of Paragon Bay’s newest super.”

She stepped aside. The camera focused again on Jenna, who had now put on the cloak and hood. Under the hood, she wore a white mask with no eye holes — just a pair of stylized, painted, closed eyes. Her skin had lightened, becoming pale, almost white.

“Presenting,” came Rosalyn’s voice, “Sleeping Spectre!”

“What the fuck…?” Jenna muttered. Her reaction would’ve been stronger, but Rosalyn’s spell still kept her calm. “I’m not a super. You know I’m not a super.”

“What I know and what you think are two very different things,” Rosalyn said smugly. “Keep watching.”

On screen, Rosalyn and Jenna — or rather, Dream Jewel and Sleeping Spectre — were moving down a corridor, still in their skimpy outfits. Dream Jewel walked normally, while Sleeping Spectre floated, her arms hanging limply by her side, her bare feet just centimetres above the floor.

“It’s coming, babygirl…” Dream Jewel said. “It’s already started attacking Emerald Hills. Other heroes are holding it off, but only you can stop it. Mistress needs you to stop it.”

“I obey my Mistress…” Sleeping Spectre murmured, her voice slightly muffled by the mask.

The camera shook as the scene changed, now showing a Paragon Bay neighbourhood. It looked upscale: large houses, green lawns, clean streets… and, currently, an elephant-sized monster made of glowing white energy rampaging through the area. As it moved, streets sizzled, trees caught fire, and windows melted.

Suddenly, the creature stopped, slamming into what seemed like an invisible wall. It screeched and flailed, its energies flaring wildly, but it was trapped by invisible forces. The camera zoomed out to show a young woman in a tight black bodysuit with white stripes, her face painted white. Jenna recognized her; she’d last seen her in that Safety Council video: Mimette, the mute heroine who dressed like a mime. She must be using her invisible forcefields to keep the beast contained. 

“Excellent, Mimette!” called a voice — Ermine, the White Vigilante of Darkstone. “Keep it contained as long as you can! Evenstar, get that portal open! We’ve got to get it out of the city!”

“On it!” replied another heroine — Evenstar, the Sorceress of Light and Shadow — hovering above the others, making complex hand gestures. “This might take a while. I can’t find the dimension it’s from…”

“Just find somewhere it can’t cause any damage, and we’ll take it from there!” Ermine cried. “Naiad, Goldstreak, blast it! Try to weaken it! Mimette, let their attacks through, but don’t let the beast out!”

Goldstreak, the yellow-and-orange-clad heroine Jenna had seen from the limo, attacked with beams of golden light. Beside her, Naiad, the hydromancer in her blue two-piece swimsuit, fired high-pressure jets of water at the beast.

The monster shrieked, recoiling from the attacks but still pounding at Mimette’s forcefield.

“I just blasted it with enough water to put out a forest fire, and it’s still standing! What’s it made of?!” Naiad exclaimed.

“I don’t know,” Goldstreak replied, “but if this is another one of Waric’s monsters…”

“Evenstar, hurry!” Ermine shouted, rushing to Mimette, who was starting to sway under the strain. Her hands trembled as she fought to maintain the forcefield.

“I’m working on it, okay?!” Evenstar’s hands glowed with arcane energy, but it was clear she wasn’t moving fast enough.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the air, and the camera panned back. Dream Jewel and Sleeping Spectre had arrived. The camera tried to focus as they hovered in the sky — Dream Jewel walked through the air with ease, while Sleeping Spectre floated, her arms limp.

Ermine’s gaze snapped up. “Miss Westwood, be careful! That thing is—”

“Really, Ermine,” Dream Jewel said, “when I’m dressed like this, at least call me Dream Jewel. It’s only polite.”

“I’ll be polite when you’re not flying into danger! Now get out of the way! We just need to hold it until Evenstar gets that portal open—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Dream Jewel cut in smoothly. “Haven’t you met my friend, Sleeping Spectre? She’s got this.”

Sleeping Spectre floated closer to the entrapped beast, raising her arm slowly, like in a dream.

“Drop the forcefield, Mimette!” Dream Jewel commanded.

“No! You can’t —” Ermine began, but it was too late. Mimette exhaled and collapsed.

The beast roared as the forcefield dropped. It surged forward — only to freeze mid-air as Sleeping Spectre extended her hand. The creature screamed, its glowing form convulsing violently. Slowly, it began to shrink, streams of energy spiralling into Sleeping Spectre’s hand.

The other heroes watched in shock. Naiad, drenched in sweat, took a step back. “What the hell is she doing?”

“She’s an energy absorber,” said Dream Jewel. “And that thing is pure energy. It doesn’t stand a chance.”

The beast howled in agony, shrinking rapidly now. As more energy drained from it, the streets beneath it shimmered with residual heat. It writhed, attempting one last desperate lunge toward her, but faltered and fell to the ground. Now the size of a human, it gave one last pitiful whimper before collapsing. The glowing energy dissolved, leaving behind only a naked, bald woman lying unconscious on the ground.

A heavy silence followed.

Ermine handed the exhausted Mimette over to Goldstreak before moving cautiously toward the woman. She crouched down, carefully checking her pulse. “She’s alive, just unconscious. Wait, I know her! This is Evelyn Beaumont!”

“Evelyn who?” said Evenstar.

“Beaumont. The CEO of SweetSpot Foods,” said Ermine. “She went missing last week. I have been searching for her, but I never dreamed… Miss Beaumont? Evelyn? Are you all right?”

The screen went black. 

Rosalyn put the remote down on the bed next to her. “The rest is just the cleanup. I wouldn’t want to bore you with unnecessary details.”

“I obey my Mistress,” Jenna said. Then blinked. “Wait… no, that’s not what I meant to say. I was going to ask… Mistress… Rosalyn. What was that? How did I do all… all those things? Floating and draining energy and…?”

“Come on, babygirl, you’re sharper than this.” Rosalyn looked like she was enjoying this. “How did you do it? You’re a metahuman, of course. Or rather, you’re a super.”

“No, I’m not! I would have known if I was a metahuman…” Jenna hesitated, feeling the doubt creep over her. “Wouldn’t I?”

“If you were a normal metahuman, then yes, you probably would. But, babygirl…” Rosalyn smiled cheekily. “You’re not like other metahumans. Your powers only manifest when you’re asleep. When you’re awake, you’re completely mundane — no powers whatsoever. But when you’re asleep…” She smiled again. “That’s different.”

Jenna’s mouth opened, then closed. She shook her head, trying to process it. “No. That’s not right… I’m not… I get superpowers when I’m asleep? How could I not know that?”

Rosalyn’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Why would you? You don’t have powers when you’re awake. But for years, your sleeping self has been floating around Harmony Heights, draining energy from criminals and ne’er-do-wells…never speaking, never interacting with anyone.” She grinned. “You see where I’m going with this?”

Jenna swallowed. “Nightshift…”

“Exactly. Nightshift. But now, after a costume change and some major enchantments, Nightshift’s changed her name to Sleeping Spectre. Much more fitting. And that old black cloak she floated around in? It did nothing to show off that beautiful body of hers… or should I say, yours.” Rosalyn smirked.

“But… no, that can’t be right. I can’t be Nightshift…”

“You’re not anymore. You’re Sleeping Spectre now. Pay attention.”

“But… I’ve never even seen Nightshift… well, I suppose I wouldn’t if I was asleep the whole time, but…” Jenna rubbed her forehead. “Why didn’t anyone else figured out that I was Nightshift? Or that Nightshift was me?”

Who would?” said Rosalyn. “You live in that backwater town, Harmony Heights, miles away from anyone who cares. At night you float above the streets like a wraith, but when you wake up, it’s like nothing happened. You exit and enter your room through your window. Since you never had any overnight guests, nobody ever knew you were sneaking out. The only one who might have figured out something was going on would be your father, but…”

Jenna’s breath hitched at the mention of her father. Her gaze dropped to the bed, fingers twisting the fabric. “He just sits on the couch and stares at the TV. He wouldn’t notice anything…” She trailed off, then looked at Rosalyn. “But you knew.”

“I have my sources.”

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” Jenna felt a wave of realization hit her. “Last year, in Harmony Heights. You weren’t there for the documentary. You were there for me.” She paused, shaking her head. “No. You weren’t even there for me. You were there for Nightshift. And here I thought… I thought you liked me.”

“Oh, babygirl.” Rosalyn kissed her on the lips, and despite herself, Jenna felt a thrill shoot up her spine. “I do like you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take an opportunity when I see it. Ever hear of something called Project Eryss?”

“Project… Eryss? No. What’s that?”

“It’s…” Rosalyn paused, looked like she searched for words, and then shrugged. “If you don’t know, you don’t know. Let’s just say they’re some people I made a deal with. I needed Evelyn out of the way.”

“Evelyn? Oh, that woman at the end…” Jenna frowned. “Evelyn Beaumont, right? CEO of… some company. I’ve heard that name.”

“You probably have, she was in the news last week. The CEO who vanished during talks of a merger between her company and the Davidson Jelly Empire…” Rosalyn’s eyes hardened. “My father’s company.”

Jenna’s eyes widened. “Your father?”

“Henry Davidson III,” Rosalyn said smoothly, with a hint of malice. “Just because he married into the Westwood family doesn’t mean he’s not still a Davidson. He’s still one of the major stockholders in the Davidson Jelly Empire. And that bitch Evelyn thought she could take over the entire thing and freeze him out. So, I made a deal with some people at Project Eryss.”

Jenna stared at her. Despite the magic suppressing her emotions, a chill settled in her stomach. “What kind of deal?”

Rosalyn stretched. “They needed a test subject for one of their little experiments. I needed Evelyn out of the way. It was a perfect match. They turned her into that energy beast you saw… and now she’s locked in an energy-draining stasis tank in the Nightfall Penitentiary, under heavy sedation while wardens and scientists try to figure out how to make sure she doesn’t transform into that energy monster again. Whether she does or not… she won’t be attempting any more mergers or takeovers anytime soon.”

“But…why?!” Jenna eventually managed to say. “Why would you…? She didn’t do anything to you.”

“Didn’t do anything?” Rosalyn tilted her head. “Babygirl, weren’t you paying attention? She wanted to take my father’s company away from him. I did what I had to do. My father needs his company. It’s his passion. You, of all people, should know what happens to fathers who lose their passion.”

Jenna’s mind flashed to her own father, sitting alone in that dim living room, staring blankly at the TV. 

“Besides…” Rosalyn leaned in closer, her breath warm against Jenna’s ear. “It gave me the perfect opportunity to show off your powers. Our powers. I’m sick of being just the token metahuman in the family, the illusionist doing special effects. I think it’s time I really join Paragon Bay’s super community. And I want you to join it together with me.”

“J-join together with you?”

“That’s my offer. Stay here. Work for me, as Sleeping Spectre. Quit college. Quit being Nightshift. You’re wasted in Harmony Heights… you can do so much more here in Paragon Bay.”

“I… uh…”

“Your starting salary would be ten grand a week. In addition to the five million I already gave you, of course. You’d have your own suite here in the upper levels of Westwood Tower, full use of the facilities — a private gym, spa, swimming pool, private movie theatre, game room, and other perks.” Rosalyn kissed Jenna’s shoulder. “A full medical staff if you get sick, a team of world-class chefs if you get a craving for something… anything you want. And of course, we’d have amazing sex…” She grinned wolfishly. “You’ve only had a taste of the pleasure I can give you.”

Jenna swallowed. It would be so easy to say yes.

“Plus,” Rosalyn added, “Westwood Inc takes care of families, even our employees’ families. It’s one reason why people are so happy to work for us. We help people’s oved ones. And we can help your father — real help, not just the scraps you’ve managed to give him. We can treat his depression, get him some proper therapy, help him get back on his feet… even get him a job again. You wouldn’t need to worry about him anymore.”

Jenna thought of her father and how nice it would be to see him happy again. Then a rather chilling thought crossed her mind. “Wait… don’t tell me you were behind the closing of the textile factory, too? So my dad would lose his job…”

Rosalyn giggled. “Your dad lost his job two years ago. I’m flattered you think I’d plan that far ahead.” She grew serious. “But no, of course not. I don’t mess with people’s families, babygirl. To a Westwood, family is sacred. So… are you in?”

Jenna hesitated. “What happens  if I say no?”

Rosalyn stroked Jenna’s cheek. “Well… then you go back to boring old Harmony Heights. Resume your studies, graduate, become a C-list actress with a chronically depressed father… and pretend you don’t have these amazing powers, never knowing what Nightshift gets up to while you’re asleep. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you. I’ll even let you keep the five million… hell, I’ll give you another five million, just to show there’s no hard feelings. But is that really what you want?” Her breath was hot against Jenna’s ear. “Or would you rather stay here… and obey your Mistress?”

“I obey my Mistress,” Jenna whispered. And knew she had lost. 

“Good girl.” Rosalyn’s voice was soft. “We’ll have so much fun. Officially, you’ll be my personal assistant. You might need to accompany me to business trips or meetings, but most of the time, you’ll be free to do whatever you want. Pursue your acting career… do whatever you like. Just don’t reveal any family secrets or undermine the business. But you won’t do that, will you?”

“N-no, Mistress…” Jenna whimpered.

“Good girl,” Rosalyn repeated. “But here’s the most important part of the deal. Whenever I give you a sleeping potion, you drink it — no questions, no hesitation. And if I cast a sleeping spell on you, you don’t try to resist.” She gently cupped Jenna’s breast. “Now, repeat after me. If Mistress says sleep… babygirl sleeps.”

Jenna’s head swam. “If Mistress says sleep… b-babygirl sleeps…”

Rosalyn kissed her forehead. “Then sleep.”

With an immense sense of relief, Jenna closed her eyes and slept. 

 

 

 

Rosalyn looked down at Jenna, limp and asleep on the bed. Damn… if this girl kept being this adorable, this fuckable…

A sudden wave of dizziness and nausea hit her. Not overwhelming, but enough to make her sway on her feet.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered, clutching her forehead. “Sheesh, old lady, stop nagging.”

She stumbled over to the nightstand, pulled out the top drawer, and retrieved the Circlet of Westwood. Placing it on her head, she made sure the brilliant red gem was centred at the front. Immediately, a rush of warmth and power filled her, making her exhale in pleasure and relief. It was always a high, putting on the circlet — it made her feel so powerful…

About time, Claudia’s voice echoed in her head.

Rosalyn sighed. Of course, with great power came great drawbacks. “My deepest apologies for not immediately obeying, oh venerable great-great-grandmama,” she said with syrupy sweetness. “Your humble descendant is, of course, merely a vessel for your power and will.”

Now you’re just being cheeky, Claudia responded dryly. If I weren’t dead, I’d spank your ass so hard you wouldn’t sit for a week. Then again, knowing you, you’d probably enjoy it.

“Not half as much as you would. You’re hornier than I am. Admit it… the thought of spanking your great-great-granddaughter’s bare butt turns you on.”

Hmmph. Claudia’s tone was gruff, but she didn’t argue. If you’re done talking back, lend me your eyes for a bit. I want a closer look at the girl.

Rosalyn had grown used to this. Though Claudia could sense her surroundings, focusing in detail required borrowing someone else’s senses. Rosalyn stepped back into her own mind, letting Claudia take over her vision to study the sleeping Jenna.

Nice work on the spells, Claudia finally said. They’re not as refined as they could be, but we’ve got time to work on that. Her superpowered form is already loyal to you. With a little more effort, even when she is awake, she’ll love being your thrall so much that she’ll never want to leave.

“I told you I could do it,” Rosalyn grinned. “Besides, I had a backup plan. If she managed to resist, I’d pay her that extra five million and inform her that her sex tape would be released online… altered to replace me, Sarah, and Lily with other generic girls, but keeping Jenna fully herself. I had her sign a contract in her sleep stating she’d received ten million dollars for starring in a series of porn videos. Lesbian Sleeping Beauty Fucks.”

Blackmail? Claudia’s voice was sharp. Risky strategy.

“Yeah, but it was just a last resort. I knew I wouldn’t need it. Babygirl’s not exactly the poster child for willpower.”

Good, Claudia said. I love it when a plan works out, don’t you?

“Mmm.” Rosalyn nodded. “But you still haven’t told me why Jenna is so important. Don’t get me wrong — she’s very cute, and Lily and Sarah like her. Hell, I like her. And I can definitely work with this ‘Sleeping Spectre’ persona. But why her? Couldn’t we just have used one of the local girls?”

You don’t need to know that yet, my dear, Claudia replied. Just trust me. I haven’t led you wrong so far, have I?

Rosalyn hesitated. “Well, no…”

I play the long game, Claudia said smoothly. There’s a reason I allowed your grandmother to be taken by Lord Waric back in the day. And why I ensured the Circlet of Westwood would go to the first of my descendants to display metahuman abilities. It’s also why I clued you in about Project Eryss, even though you’re technically not in the clear to know about them yet. By the way, when your family does decide to tell you, do try to look surprised. They’d be so upset if they knew you’d already been told.

“Wouldn’t want to upset them,” Rosalyn agreed. “I won’t tell. The most important thing is that we got rid of that bitch Evelyn. I’ve been meaning to ask though… what exactly is their deal?”

Project Eryss? You already know. They’re a secret organisation experimenting with ways to create superpowered women. The Westwoods have been financing them since before your grandmother was born. They grow clones, abduct girls from the streets, and test strange drugs on unsuspecting subjects. They’re the reason there are more female supers than males. I suspect our sleeping beauty here is one of their experiments — even if she doesn’t remember it.

“Yeah, I get that part,” Rosalyn said. “What I don’t understand is why? If they wanted a superpowered army, they’re failing — more than half the girls go rogue and become heroes or independent villains. So why keep doing it? And why are we helping them do it?”

We help them because we owe them, said Claudia. Without Project Eryss, the Westwoods wouldn’t even exist today. Never forget that!

“Okay, okay. Gratitude and debts and obligations and all that. I get it,” said Rosalyn. “I was just wondering what they were getting out of it.”

No idea, Claudia admitted. Just between you and me, I don’t think they’re particularly bright. But for now, let’s focus on your new thrall. I think she’ll be quite useful in the years to come.

Rosalyn grinned. “I can hardly wait.”