Epilogue

Epilogue

Six months later.

Zane reclined upon a magnificently appointed throne, bedecked in a heinously expensive charcoal suit, looking down upon New Avalon like a benevolent patriarch surveying his domain.

His lofty seat sat in a luxuriant penthouse atop the tallest tower in the bustling metropolis. The structure rose like an implied threat–one hundred and forty-five stories crafted from gleaming glass, steel, and obsidian marble– Liberty Solutions Pty Ltd stabbed at the sky, looming over the city like the sword of Damocles.

After that fateful showdown in front of City Hall, the city had changed—improved, really—though the transition hadn’t been without its quirks. The rags and tabloids had gorged themselves on the drama, splashing their front pages with hysterical headlines and lurid speculation. A few early editions had to be yanked from circulation due to explicit images.

Zane hadn’t minded. Public opinion eventually sides with the victors, and few could challenge his harem of elite superhotties.

Speaking of which, he pressed a button on his armrest to spin the monstrous construct of gold, adamantine, and polished black tourmaline to behold his collection of rare beauties–his ass-kicking harem.

“Report. What’s the skinny, ladies?”

The penthouse was less a residence and more a temple to wealth, a self-contained Shangri-La. It spanned the entire top three floors of the tower—an architectural indulgence so extravagant that even seasoned moguls whispered about it with the same awe they reserved for natural disasters and IRS audits.

The main lounge unfurled in a glamorous sprawl of sunken seating pits upholstered in hand-stitched velvet. A waterfall ran the length of the room, whispering over slabs of crystal quartz. The furniture came from the most exclusive designers, and each piece seemed more sculpted than built, as though coaxed from the dreams of a decadent god.

It was excessive. It was outrageous.

It was the best.

Floor-to-ceiling windows that could tint, clear, or transform into live tactical overlays afforded panoramic views of New Avalon. Zane preferred them transparent. He enjoyed watching the city below, a reminder of what he and his Ladies of Liberty were safeguarding.

“Crime’s at its lowest rate in decades, sugar,” Colly purred as she floated over and settled onto Zane’s knee. As his right-hand woman, first wife, and undisputed harem queen, the bodacious blonde had more than earned the spot. “My subliminal prompts are going out across every media channel and public announcement system. The results speak for themselves. Yesterday, a ring of jewelry thieves surrendered mid-heist. Five heavily armed bruisers simply dropped their weapons and demanded the police cuff them.”

Zane nodded, only half listening.

The revelation that Colly’s psychic sway remained potent even in prerecorded form was a game-changer, one which they’d mercilessly exploited.

But his attention was inevitably dragged to the baby bump and cream-laden tits taxing her skin-tight hero costume.

Zane’s mouth went dry at the sight of her milk beading on the flexible fabric.

“Good… good.” He croaked, his perpetually primed prick tearing free of his pants. It reared like a radioactive python, pulsing with light. “Maybe we should–”

Another pert rear settled onto his opposite knee. Dr. Ruth Ruthless, draped in a lab coat over skimpy white maternity lingerie and little else, hooked a painted fingertip beneath Zane’s lantern jaw, guiding his gaze to meet hers.

“Hello, sweetie. I’ve updated the Ruth 2.0 AI to respond to citywide emergencies instantly.” The redheaded MILF purred, lovingly caressing his cheek. “Every patrolling Miriad now has an earpiece so it can guide those feather-brained brutes to where they’re needed most. Surely Mommy’s earned a reward…”

He pulled her in for a torrid kiss, squashing her pregnant belly against Colly’s, and sandwiching his engorged enormity between them.

Two dozen of the aforementioned featherbrains guarded the room. Lining the walls like inseminated sentinels–gravid stomachs at the fore–they stared into space with blank eyes and vapid smiles.

Colly had changed Miriad’s hero costume on the premise that Wildfire looked better in her colors. Now the fitness-focused heroine turned fuckdoll wore a Brazilian microkini, cybernetically augmented gauntlets, and armoured kneeboots featuring four-inch spike heels, all in a Pepto Bismol shade of pink.

New Avalon’s populace had gaped at the LGBTQ postergirl’s shocking transformation when her clones first marched through the streets in their thousands. The shameful outfit did nothing to hide her hypersexualized figure, completely failing to restrain her pneumatic knockers or cover anything more than her most indecent parts.

The strings cut into her thick hips and flossed her cavernous butt crack. Voluminous chestnut tresses tumbled in glossy waves to dust the backs of her knees. Each duplicate looked like a cosplaying pornstar, but any advances were violently rejected.

Bones had been broken without prejudice.

Ruth’s legions of law experts, spin doctors, and several bought judges were proving invaluable in greasing the wheels of justice.

That was fine, nothing to worry about. Zane humped his wives’ bulging bellies, getting harder as he considered how much power that represented. So much. All his to wield however he wished.

“Uh oh, sir is eyeing Miss Tits-For-Brains again,” Sarah warned, lounging in a seating pit. The green-haired shapechanger cast away the coloring book she was ostensibly ‘reading,’ extending her rubberized arms to block his view of the pregnant cumdumpsters. “Like, take care of Bossman or tag me in. I’m totally down for a quick pump-and-go. Super happy to cop a hot sticky load, like, ya know, whenever.”

As one, the Miriad’s heads turned toward Zane. Raw lust marred their vacant expressions as four dozen stiffening nipples instantly tented their minuscule bikini tops.

“Oh, we know. You’ve made that point very clear. Often and repeatedly.” Dr Ruthless snarked. Turning back to Zane, the curvaceous ex-villainous dipped a slender hand down to massage his swollen balls. They throbbed like a bass track in her buttery soft grasp. “Sweetie. Darling. Mommy is helpless to deny her big, strong boy anything. However, please remember you’re interviewing prospective recruits today. Reducing our main peace-keeping **** to quivering puddles in the streets doesn’t make a good first impression.”

Zane had only done it that one time, but the memory stuck. Pounding Miriad’s countless copies into brainless oblivion while her patrols collapsed in cunt-frothing heaps throughout the city had been supremely satisfying.

The resultant PR fallout… not so much.

It didn’t matter. Zane was an enhancer. A proverbial titan. Untouchable. Unimpeachable. Female supers flocked to his side, begging for the slightest taste of his ability. He could pluck the freshest, most promising blossoms from their midst and make them his.

He deserved the best, after all.

“What’s the ruckus? Some of us are trying to relax.” A pair of furry ears poked up beside Sally, preceding a set of slotted amber eyes, which went wide. “Oh! Forget I said anything.”

Pregnancy had exhausted Wildfire. Most beastkin had shorter gestation periods than humans and gave birth to entire litters. It stole the wind from their fluffy pyromancer’s sails but failed to cool her fiery ardor.

The cute fox girl seemed ready to pop as she waddled over to squeeze between Zane’s treetrunk legs, joining the amorously engaged trio.

He grunted, thrusting faster against his harem's domed tummies, ramming up through their smooshed cleavage until his gleaming tip breached the ocean of milk-stained titflesh like a turgid torpedo.

“Mlorp!”

Quick as a whip, Wildfire glommed onto it. Long eyelashes fluttering in ecstasy, she licked and sucked his corpulent crown with ravenous zeal.

“Hmmm, yeah… there’s a good girl.” Zane growled, roughly groping the round slopes of Ruth and Colly’s firm rumps in his mitt-sized hands, then sliding lower to delve somewhere deeper. Someplace wetter. “How long until Silver presents the latest round of hopefuls? I might need to blow off a little steam beforehand.”

Both peerless beauties melted against him, emitting urgent mewls. Two top-ranked, world-famous superbabes writhed tongue-tied and powerless on his fingers, reduced to quivering masses.

Zane’s life had taken a turn for the better, regardless of how rocky—and morally dubious—the road may have been.

He was important now. Possessing vast wealth, prestige, privilege, and raw power. His sheer, overwhelming presence commanded respect. Influential figures sought his attention daily. Appealing, jockeying, and politicking–they scrambled for meager minutes of his time.

Miscreants fled at the merest sniff of Zane’s or the LoLs' arrival… well, the male variety did at any rate. Female wrongdoers tended to hang around, going googly-eyed while they flirted or outright propositioned him, even as they were arrested.

The Amazon invasion last month had quickly devolved into the citywide fangirl convention. It’d been amusing and slightly embarrassing being pursued by hordes of stunning, muscle-bound warrioresses who harboured impure intentions.

He’d brokered peace over a single night of extremely athletic exertions with their Queen and her retinue. Though convincing the well-fucked delegation to depart the next morning had taken some doing.

And if that wasn’t enough, six breathtaking heroines proudly carried his future heirs. They flaunted their expectant mommy bods on daytime talk shows, praising him with unfiltered devotion, their passion infusing every word.

“Can’t remember, sir.” Sally wobbled forward, clutching her own expansive stomach. “Say, someone scooch over. I, like, totally want in on the action too.”

Zane couldn’t recall asking a question. The energy inside him surged like a king tide, but he kept it in check. His control had improved since the early days, when he went off half-cocked, blasting cosmic radiation left and right at the sight of an attractive female super.

He hadn’t lacked for practice, given the insatiable appetites of his harem.

So Zane condensed the power into his ginormous manhood until it shone like a yellow discoball, leaving the rest of his herculean form unilluminated.

Colly, Ruth, and Wildfire guttered and groaned, climaxing explosively as Zane’s rock-hard rigidity suffused their inflated flesh with orgasmic energy. Squirted pussy juices saturated his knuckles while the fox girl gurgled incoherent praises around her mouthful of coruscating cock.

“Oh, sugar!”

“Sweetie… yes!”

“Huuurg~!”

“No fair!” Sally protested, pouting petulantly. “No fair! No fair! We want cummies too!”

The myriad Miss Miriads nodded in mute agreement, hot nectar soaking through their microkinis to slicken their thighs.

Feeling magnanimous, on the verge of erupting, Zane extended his enhancer aura to encompass the entire penthouse, just as the elevator opened with a ding.

“Husband, I have returned,” Silvejia stepped out, radiating imperious dignity, her bulging belly prominent in the skin-tight silver outfit. “May I present… Aaaaah!”

The lavender-skinned speedster stumbled when the invisible wave struck her, toppling against a platinum blonde picture of Nordic perfection. Brilliantly attired in a snug snowy costume trimmed in white fur, the stranger’s icy demeanor melted immediately under Zane’s panty-dropping power.

“Du store alpakka!” She exclaimed, leaning heavily against Silvejia for support. “What was that?”

Nobody was in a clear enough state of mind to answer her.

The Miriad’s fell as autumn leaves to quake on the floor, drooling stupidly. Sally was reduced to an orgasmic puddle. Colly, Ruth, and Wildfire hung onto each other, hugging tightly together through mutual raptures as Zane showered them with his glowing seed.

It fountained out from between their jerking bodies in a golden geyser after blasting the fox girl’s suckling skull backward. Shiny yellow globs rained down in a ten-foot radius, sinking into bare skin and splattering the pricy furnishings.

Zane didn’t care; he savoured the moment–the electrifying feeling of glorious power bursting forth like a rushing river, pouring out of him into the world and his superwomen.

He’d make Miriad lick up the excess later. There was always more.

No matter how hard or frequently he came, Zane always had more. He seemed to be tapped into some fathomless reserve of cosmic radiation.

He was the best, after all.

Once post-nut clarity reared its blessed head, he took in the new arrival. She looked familiar.

That tall, willowy frame and those leagues-long legs. Her nubile breasts, slim hips, and flawless Scandinavian features combined with that arctic-themed costume identified Zane’s guest as…

“Winter Witch? No wait,” Clicking his fingers, he grasped for the name. “Hoarfrost! That’s it. Hang on… last I checked, you were a baddie. Tried to bring about Ragnarok a while back? Folkmar Fjordmaster foiled your evil scheme.”

The Nordic villainess rallied heroically, steadying herself on shaky feet. She stuck up her nose in a disdainful sniff.

"Huttetu!" That man cheated. Summoning valkyries was his petty **** after I dumped the bastard.” She spat before waving a gloved hand and modulating her voice to a seductive tone. “He is in the past. Forgotten. I am reformed woman now. Here to serve the greater good. Take it as good fish, ja?”

Hoarfrost strutted towards Zane in platform snow boots. Nostrils flaring, gaze locked on his impressive frame, she made no attempt to hide the interest burning in her glacial blue eyes.

Or the diamond-hard nipples poking through her wintery outfit. The thermal fabric appeared remarkably thin.

Cock still pulsing, ever erect despite his recent release, Zane made a snap decision.

Here was a top-ranked super with very adaptable ability who met all his criteria. She was powerful, sexy, confident, and eager. Highly photogenic too. Maybe a tad skinny for his tastes, but Colly’s milk and five minutes of frantic fucking would cure that ill.

And the Ladies of Liberty could use an ice-wielder to balance Wildfire’s flames. They would make a dynamite pairing–on the street and between the sheets.

There was nothing to worry about.

Yep, he’d made the right call. No doubt about it.

Hoisting the cum-drunk trio out of his lap, Zane settled them onto the polished marble floor before turning back to the svelte villainess. She grinned wickedly, thrusting out her modest chest and unzipping the front of her clingy costume with teasing slowness.

Zane gathered energy in a clenched fist. He could practically hear the gears turning in her pretty head and had no patience for games.

“Nyaaaaa~!”

One quick zap later, Hoarfrost was on her knees at the foot of his throne, panting like a blown horse while reaching desperately for his incandescent immensity.

“That’s more like it.” Zane said, sitting back as the gorgeous ice queen started slobbering over his knob. “Welcome aboard, Whorefrost. You’ll learn the ropes in no time.”

The End

Aaaaand that's another one put to bed. I hope you enjoyed it! If you like my silly smut, why not support my smut writing aspirations by joining my Patreon? All donations go towards high-octane coffee to keep me writing and treats for my two adorable furballs.