Get to work finding and interrogating the Librarian.

The Ultracomputer was tapped into the local, federal and international police databases. It took less than twenty seconds to build a profile of her recent actions. She was active in the city, there were a series of recent attacks and suspected attacks on high profile developers, the occasional book burner and angry parent’s group advocating for the removal of books from a school’s curriculum. Though a few people were trying to keep track of her, no one was trying too hard, she was a low priority threat.

He ran a search for the suspected victim’s names and turned up a blog indicating that they were all targets of a blog called the Censorship-Corner, which had a new post up regarding a group called Godly Reads which was trying to get half-a-dozen books pulled from the local library. It was led by a short curvy redhead, who had reportedly already been victimized by the Librarian three times before.

The post had been live for three hours. Ultraboy raced off, after pausing to give Ultramom orders on how to deal with the Ultimasluts. And what preparation to make for her next punishment. Ultimagirl and Ultimamom were to be kept in the solid cell she’d built for him as a child, the time-out room, it was strong enough to keep them in and Negatonium could be added with the push of a button. The Negatonium in the hall would be collected by a robot and carried along until they were safely locked in, but first Ultramom would put food and water in the cells, so the prisoners didn’t dehydrate, or starve. A camera would keep an eye on them as well, which might be amusing.

They should never even see Ultramom, because she wasn’t to put a top back on until she earned it back. She should be back to full power by the time he returned, which meant she couldn’t touch herself or her breasts, not even to clean off his seed, in fact, he said, his seed should never be cleaned from those breast, it should soak into her skin, permanently cleansing and marking her, though, he whispered, half to himself, it would take a few more treatments to ensure every speck of her acres of cleavage was covered in cum. Ultramom nodded at all this, a smile appearing at that last statement.

She bounced to her feet, her tits bouncing even more wildly, enough to dislodge a drop of cum from her breast, leaving her to scramble desperately after it, looking up at him with shocking dismay when she failed to retrieve it before it reached the cold stone floor. She lowered her head to the floor, ass swaying temptingly as her back arched like a cat stretching, to lap at the single drop. Then she realized in so doing, she was scraping more cum off her tits onto the floor. She rose grumpily to her knees and began to rub the cum in. “I’ll get that as soon as this is dry.” She said.

“Good.”

“Be careful,” she said to his back, for a moment his mother, his mentor, his heroine, once again.

Ultraboy turned around and saw her half-naked, no four-fifths naked, covered in their shared cum and smiled. “You too. Don’t let them get a second’s peace, or we’re in trouble.”

Ultraboy headed out to the stakeout on the hot redheaded wannabe-activist, wannabe-submissive in a cheerful mood and took up position in a tree with a clear view into her bedroom, of the front door and through a window to the entryway that the back-door let into. It was surprisingly late and the woman was asleep, her tits, impressive on a normal woman, but disappointing to him, after his evening, made mounds in the sheets, she was clearly asleep.

Though there was a husband in her records and in the pictures he could see, there was no man in the bed. Was he out of town, or had he left when it became clear his wife was attempting to get herself dominated by a hot woman? Ultraboy didn’t know, or care, he was waiting.

It was a long wait, and he checked in periodically on the feeds from the cameras back in the base. Ultimamom and Ultimagirl were in separate corners of the cell, eating like wild animals, guzzling water like there was no tomorrow. They’d given up on attempting to cover up, given the damage to their suits and the heat of the room. He hadn’t told Ultramom to turn up the heat, but he couldn’t object to the action.

Finally he saw some movement in the shadows of the house, the backdoor opened silently and a figure entered, so swathed in black cloth he couldn’t make out gender, let alone identity.