Impregnation, captured on camera.

He warmed up by roaming the room and copping feels of the camerawoman, the computer lady, anybody he wanted. Ignorant of the weapon against her sternum, Vixen took direction and leaned against a series of plastic shapes, casually flirting with the camera in a variety of poses. While Brandon rubbed his cock against the makeup girl’s bare ass, Vixen opened her jeans wider and wider, and the director said nothing when her jacket slipped over her shoulders and down her arms. The tape gave way and she stood topless, allowing picture after picture of her half-naked with the amulet prominently in the center of the frame. Flecks of gold sparkled around her eyes, cheeks, lips, and chest, a bit of glitter makeup in the light unimpeded by clothing. The camera clicked as her pants dropped, and she modeled a black thong for several moments until she pulled it off and flung it to the side.

Brandon moaned and pushed the makeup girl to her knees, forcing her to lick his cock while he watched the show. Vixen’s clothing normally left nothing secret, but seeing her truly naked was something else. He’d put her in the top tier of Justice League women, an hourglass slightly heavier on the bottom than on top. Small nipples in dark areolae pointed upward from teardrop-shaped breasts, and her slender torso let them command attention whenever they rose with a breath or shook from a change in position. Her ass cheeks looked perfectly squeezable, thick enough to grab hold of and tight enough to keep their form no matter how she stretched her fit, hairless legs. She showed off every bit of them, following the increasingly-sexual commands from the director who groped her own breasts with each order, and nobody in the room seemed to notice or mind that the fashion shoot had changed into a softcore nude spread in a matter of minutes.

Vixen turned every order into a part of her sexually-charged performance. When she leaned over a prop, she stretched one arm out of the way so the camera could see her breasts quivering with every breath. When she sat on the floor, she spread her legs and opened her pussy with one hand. When she turned around, she curved her spine and pushed her ass farther out. She touched herself when she wasn’t in the middle of a pose and maintained her debonair, standoffish expression, ever the professional despite the strings of stickiness between her fingers or the tongue constantly rolling around her lips. It took a few minutes for her to break, longer than most of his victims, and when she finally threw back her head, screamed “I’m gonna cum!”, and fell to her knees, the camera never stopped clicking.

The makeup girl trembled with her own self-induced orgasm, and Brandon shoved her away before he wasted his seed on her face. She’d gotten him ready, seconds from blowing his load, and the ever-advancing clock warned him about his first deadline approaching in a few short minutes. He strolled in front of the photo backdrop and lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the burning lights. Nobody said a word about the naked man interrupting what should have been a portfolio of modern streetwear, nor about him grabbing the star model’s hips and pulling her into position. He stood her up and bent her at the waist, putting her face right in front of the camera, and everybody assumed it was part of the shoot, even the director. The photographer put Vixen into focus, conveniently blurring Brandon’s face and body, and snapped away as he jacked himself to the point of no return. Just before he finished he nuzzled his head into Vixen’s cunt, and he came on the first thrust, inseminating the oblivious superheroine while a collection of nameless women documented every second of her new orgasm.

“Wonderful, darling!” the director yelled, and Brandon didn’t know if she meant the compliment for Vixen or for the lighting technician with her mouth attached to the older woman’s pussy. “I’m so close! …to the deadline. Come on, sell the outfit! Seduce the camera! Show them how goddamned fucking sexy you are in the newest Revlon line!”

Vixen stood upright and rested one hand on her waist, revealing every bit of her naked body except a small area of her chest covered by the amulet. She pulled away from Brandon’s cock, letting it slip out of her wet, sperm-soaked hole, and posed with an erection still wedged between her thighs. He stood back and simply waited, letting the magic do its thing, and Vixen didn’t last fifteen seconds before she rolled her hips and ground her pussy lips against the top of his dick. “God, that’s good,” she half-muttered, half-proclaimed, writhing in a lap dance already gone too far. She ran a finger over her face and tugged at her lips, she lifted her breasts with the back of her arm, and she laid her hands on either side of her waist in positions that happened to point toward her recently-used slit. Each pose exhibited her nudity whether she knew it or not, and still the camera snapped, documenting dozens if not hundreds of scandalous photos.

Brandon checked the clock once more and saw the seconds ticking away, leaving time for one more diversion before he had to stop and secure Vixen’s humiliation. He stooped just enough to get his dick lined up at her pussy again, standing upright and burrowing back inside. Vixen lifted herself onto her toes and reached over her shoulders, grabbing his head and neck for stability. While she moaned, joining the din of arousal throughout the studio, he pumped away from behind. His crotch slapped against her bubbly ass, but he refrained from giving it a squeeze or fondling her bouncing, upturned breasts or lifting one of her legs into an athletic split. He had to avoid being on camera, which meant hiding as much of his body as possible behind hers, revealing only a fat cock slamming into her tight pussy from a mysterious source.

She took all the attention he avoided; even if he hadn’t used an amulet to become invisible, her sheer presence would have put all eyes on her, an erotic one-woman spectacle for the voyeuristic pleasure of millions. Her face stretched into expression after expression, each betraying the lust coursing through her veins: brow furrowed and lips clasped between teeth; mouth wide in a breathy scream; eyes rolled back and tongue out in mind-breaking bliss. Her body moved little and she let him fuck her with total abandon, controlling her every jiggle and gasp. With less than two minutes to go she went into overdrive, squeezing his dick between the walls of her pussy and spinning one fingertip around her clit. “Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God!” she panted, and when their orgasms took over, Brandon shoved deep and loosed his first shot right against her womb. He pulled out for the second, spraying on her ass, and barely **** her to her knees so the third and all subsequent ropes could land on her lust-torn face. The camerawoman zoomed forward, taking closeups of the bright white cum against her brown skin, including a few pictures of her tongue licking her lips clean that he wished he could frame and hang on his bedroom wall.

“Time’s up!” the director shouted, pulling her hips away from the honey-drenched jaw of her lighting technician. “Upload, now, go go go!”

Every woman in the room (except the makeup girl and another woman Brandon didn’t recognize, who were lying behind the backdrop with their faces in each other’s crotches) rushed to the computer, and by the time Brandon pushed his way through the crowd the screen already showed hundreds of pictures of Vixen’s civilian identity throughout every stage of her semi-public ****. The director pointed at a few and the camerawoman dragged them to another folder, likely for upload. After the first four or five pictures he took over, putting his hand on the camerawoman’s and moving the shots he liked best regardless of the director’s instructions. Nobody said a word as he uploaded pictures of Vixen getting naked with the amulet prominently displayed between her breasts, and masturbating as she draped herself over props, and posing like a porn star, and getting fucked from behind by a strange man, and cumming as he covered her face with an impossibly thick load of sperm. He dutifully avoided photos with any part of his face, hands (still wearing with Watchtower-approved gloves), or anything besides his dick, and he submitted most of the pictures when he entered her for the first time. He hoped he could be there when she did the math and realized the moment she got knocked up was likely about to be saved on tens of millions of hard drives around the world. Because she was still in her civilian identity it might not embarrass the Justice League as a whole, but the tangible effects of the reappearing amulet would be good enough.

Once the pictures were sent, flying off to some fashion website where they would cause an international stir in a matter of minutes, he surveyed the studio. Vixen still wore his semen all over her face and the insides of her thighs, and a half-dozen other naked women longed for his cock even if they didn’t yet know it. He checked the clock again and did some math. He really should get back…but he could probably leave any time he wanted by shoving Vixen out of the room, and the amulet would make her think leaving was her decision. Technically he didn’t have to be at work right away, and Miss Graves did say he could use any woman he wanted, and he wouldn’t mind watching Vixen smear his cum all over the inside of another woman’s cunt while he fertilized a few more directly…

Yeah, he could linger a few minutes more. At least until the director’s phone started ringing and people asked her what the hell she’d posted online.