Being Neighborly (1)

Ch 5 - Being Neighborly (1)

15:45 Thursday

After the boys had left, I had some time to kill until my sister would be back from her shift at the café.

So, I packed a change of clothes and headed to the gym.

I knew my physique had been enhanced. Everything seemed so effortless now, whether it was carrying groceries or repositioning a pretty girl.

What I didn't know was how much I'd been enhanced. So this was meant to be a trial run.

I was aware of the unmarked gray van following me. Wasn't that hard to spot when you knew that you should be paranoid. Since it was just Trevino and Chaney, I wasn't too worried.

I pulled into the parking lot at the gym. Grabbed my gym bag, and I saw the van park at the opposite end of the lot, near the building itself, as I headed towards the entrance.

Heading inside, I was starting to pick up more and more on the subtle signs. The way that the pupils of the Latina girl behind the desk almost immediately started dilating when I got close, while I checked in.

I'd responded to her chipper greeting, but given her no other direct attention. Range of perhaps... Range somewhere between 60 and 80 feet in an open space. I suppose I was looking a lot more attractive now, so it could have started as just a natural response.

I couldn't imagine that a fit girl working at a gym didn't see a bunch of well-built men all day, however. Probably got cheesy pickup lines pretty consistently, too. And my face hadn't changed enough that I was anywhere near male model territory.

A stronger jaw, I think. More even and coarser facial hair. Starting to look a bit unkempt now, because normal razors weren’t cutting it. Perhaps my eyes… But that was about it. A 6 or 7 on the ten point scale at best, by my own estimation.

My body was a different story, perhaps in the upper ranges of the same scale, for people who were into that kind of thing. I was growing more beefy than athletic, though with the sort of low body-fat percentage that actual body builders had to work hard and suffer to achieve.

I seemed to have been putting on pounds of muscle even in the last 24 hours, without any corresponding calorie intake. I'd been eating more, but not that much. Couldn't explain that, yet.

Guys in the locker room started to squirm while I changed, uncomfortable with the slowly building feeling of arousal washing over them, I imagine, in an exposed state and semi-public place. More than one sent a glance my way, but I acted like I didn't notice and headed on out. Not my cup of tea.

With the more open space and high ceiling of the gym itself, the effects seemed to be mitigated. I mentally adjusted my estimate of the "aura" range, for lack of a better term, to at or just beyond 60 feet. Perhaps the girl at the desk had been genuinely attracted.

Spotting a free bench press, I headed over. I started at the rough estimates I had in my head for my old one-rep maximums. I'd always worked out, like my sister, but it'd been far more infrequent as I dove into a full-time career.

At my old maximum, I did ten repetitions without even feeling the strain. I could tell there was resistance, of course, but it still felt effortless and controlled. My sense of balance seemed remarkably improved, too.

Setting down the bar again, I added on another 40 lbs and tried again. Ten reps, no strain. Could tell there was increased resistance, but didn't feel it. Soon enough, I was effortlessly lifting twice my old maximum. It was insane.

Unless I suddenly hit some wall, where my strength abruptly wasn't enough, I couldn't see a limit in sight. There didn't seem to be much diminishing returns, if any.

The equipment started creaking worryingly. The bar itself, while not Olympic-grade, could probably handle another 200 lbs. But not the bench, at least not in the resting position.

Seeing that the curious glances sent my way had been increasing rapidly, I raised my voice to suggest, "Please don't pay any attention to how much weight I'm lifting. Forget about it. I’m not that interesting unless I’m talking to you."

Not many people responded, other than to look away, but a few mumbled half-hearted apologies. Didn’t feel much resistance - these folks were apparently pretty good about minding their business.

Instantly, however, I’d felt two dozen connections snap into place. One in particular stood out. The connections didn't actually have any sound to them, but I'd sometimes experience something that I could liken to a melody - as I had both with Natasha Romanoff and Jean Grey.

The man was likely a bit older than me, thirty five or so, African American. Even beefier than I was getting, though not as lean and perhaps an inch taller. Very solid man.

He was bald, his head shaved completely smooth. And he'd definitely looked slightly worried for just a second, before I'd told him to stop noticing.

His song was one of the unyielding strength of steel, of pain and loss. I got the sense that he was running from something. And I got the sense that he had powers. He wasn't lifting an unreasonable amount for his size, like I was, but nor did he seem to be exhausting himself at all.

Curious.

I pushed it to the back of my mind, for now, continuing with my testing. I started each exercise at twice my old personal best.

Deadlifts, bar squats and shoulder press had much the same result. The power rack was sturdier than the bench, and I could approach the limit of what the bar could handle. Still felt barely any strain at all.

Had to repeat the suggestion to ignore the amount of weight I was throwing around a few times, as people moved about the gym around me. The longer someone stayed in my proximity, the easier it sank in.

Four exercises out of the way, putting strain on pretty much my entire body. Or it should have - it really didn't. I'd barely broken a sweat.

There really wasn't anything more I could try here, that would yield new information. Continuing would just be tempting fate that my suggestions for privacy wouldn’t hold.

Except, perhaps, one thing. I considered the black guy from before. If what Jean told me was true, he wouldn't even be able to punch me. So not much of a test. If what I felt from his melody was accurate, I might be able to punch him - but what the hell would I do if I accidentally injured someone that normal doctors probably couldn't help?

Eventually it came down to wanting to know what I was dealing with. I wasn't ever going to be a hero, much less a superhero, but this was still my town. A powered guy, running from something, that could be trouble that would end up hurting my friends or sister.

I waited until he was done with a set to approach. He tensed just a little, spotting my approach in his periphery almost immediately, displaying impressive situational awareness. Didn't seem like an aggressive reaction though. Just cautious.

"Relax, big guy." I said, sticking out my hand. "Haven't seen you around before. New in town? I'm Jack Anderson."

The guy did relax slightly, taking only a moment to consider before his even larger hand enveloped mine in a firm shake. "Luke Cage." He gestured with his other hand. "Actually, just started working as a personal trainer here. Doing a trial run, going over the equipment before my first client."

His gaze met mine steadily, friendly but still cautious. With the connection as strong as I was going to make it, I continued in a low tone, so as not to pull in any others.

"Cool, man. Hope it works out.” I spoke quietly, “You can trust me, Luke. I have some powers too, but that doesn't worry you. Nothing to be concerned about."

There was a slight tension that built in him, and he tried to pull away his hand, but ultimately didn't fight it when I held on.

"Alright, thank you, good to know." Got a sense he didn't trust easily. "Can I get back to my workout?"

"Not yet. I'm a very trustworthy guy. So you trust me. But I know you have powers, and while I'm not going to tell anyone, I don't trust you yet. You're going to need to earn my trust." I said, feeling the waves of resistance lessen and fail. "I think I know that you're running from something, and I'd like to know what. Just for peace of mind. You want to tell me. It'll be nice to have someone to confide in, won't it? A friend. Maybe I can even help you out."

He looked around, not exactly nervous, but certainly still cautious. I noticed an erection tenting his shorts and noted he didn't appear to live up to the stereotype for his race despite his otherwise big form.

"Can't really talk about this here, man." Luke said, but that was still a concession. "I could take your number, and we can discuss it later."

"That's fair enough." I pulled my phone out with my left hand and unlocked it, handing it over without releasing his other hand. "Put your number in and call yourself, then contact me later. We can meet wherever works for you, so long as it’s in town. Just let me know within a day."

While that wasn't exactly what he'd proposed, Luke entered his number and called himself without resistance. A buzz from over by his workout tote confirmed that it'd gone through. If twenty-four hours wasn’t a safe time frame for my suggestions even with eye contact and touch, I’d already be in too much trouble to care that this guy no longer trusted me, I figured.

As he handed it back, I added. "Great. Now, you trust me right? That implies respect, so you respect me a great deal. You'll be straight and honest with me. And you’ll keep my secrets."

The lumbering man furrowed his brows, but nodded.

"You wouldn't ever want to do anything to hurt me, unless I asked you to spar or something, isn't that right?" He actually accepted that more easily, with a shrug and a “Yeah”, which helped cement that he probably wasn't a bad guy.

I grinned.

"Great, hope everything goes well with the first client. Talk to you later."

"Later." He agreed, curtly.

I released his hand and wandered off towards the dressing room.

That should be enough safety precautions. Even if he was some sort of super villain - which I strongly doubted - not hurting me should reasonably include not trying to target or hurt my friends and family.

This was interesting. I had to wonder how many other supers were hiding in plain sight.

***

17:15 Thursday

I showered at home rather than the gym, not quite fancying a bunch of dudes ogling my junk. Although, my powers being what they were, perhaps I could have just walked into the women's locker room. Not worth the risk at the moment.

Being able to lift more than usual, that was part of what Ms Grey told me she’d be including in my bloodwork. Not very risky, even if my suggestions didn’t hold up. Running a one-man train on the women’s locker room, not so much.

Once I got out and dressed, I started doing some research.

Hypnotism, while treated quite skeptically by the sciences, seemed to have a lot of overlap with my ability to influence. Several documented capes also had abilities that seemed to line up with it, lending it some credence as a worthy area of study.

I skimmed over scripts and documentation, textbooks. How rapidly I took in knowledge and text when I was in the zone was almost alarming, incorporating it into my own understanding. I made several adjustments to my existing scripts.

A lot of what I found was just straight-up porn, but not entirely unhelpful, considering how my life had gone since waking up in that hospital bed.

Much lined up with what I'd already learned. The more groundwork I laid, the more impactful changes I should be able to suggest and have accepted without resistance, even if they went against the person's nature to begin with. People could be nudged outside their normal comfort zone with layers upon layers, over time.

Pure repetition also seemed quite powerful. Built upon a framework of previously accepted suggestions, it did appear I might be able to completely change a person's nature or personality - which largely went beyond the accepted scope of hypnosis, and even most of the hypnosis-like super powers I’d read about.

There were plenty of mentions of powers, mutants and the like, which operated along similar lines. It could usually be undone though. Or stopped affecting a subject after the suggestion had been carried out. Many only directly influenced behavior, not the thought patterns behind it.

That didn't appear to be the case for me, but it was still untested.

I had at least one vector for testing: Jean Grey. If she could detect or undo one of my suggestions, that would give me some information to work with. If she couldn’t, then all the better.

The stronger the connection, the less resistance. No one seemed to question a suggestion I made - so far - immediately after they swallowed my cum, even if it would appear to go completely against their baseline personality. Agent Parks had immediately become more accepting of my new relationship with his girlfriend after a dose.

It would make sense that such suggestions were also more deeply rooted.

When agents Lloyd and Porter arrived for their shift would be my first chance to get an indication on how long-lasting my suggestions were, when they weren't backed up by the strongest possible connection. When some of them might be actively being resisted.

As long as they were still docile, I could get some indications through careful questioning. I'd have to avoid strengthening any suggestions I'd previously made before, until I got some answers.

I'd also need to experiment with other methods of application for my cum, than just ingestion. Claire had seemed to become just as loopy with bliss after I erupted inside her pussy, but the connection had still been strong from her first dose, so it was hard to tell.

Would it work on skin contact? Could I aerosolize it? And which method was more effective?

With this in mind, and at least an hour or two until Claire got off work, I headed downstairs and knocked on the Mitchells' door.

I wasn't at all disappointed when it was Teresa who answered, the young girl immediately flushing and refusing to meet my eyes. Her mother would've served just as well, but she was sweet, and beautiful.

"H-hi Mr Anderson, are - are you here to speak to mom again?"

The way she put emphasis on 'speak', she definitely had some idea of what had happened during my previous visit. But it didn't seem to lessen her attraction.

She blushed heavier, but didn't resist when I cradled her chin and tilted her head up to look me in the eye.

"No, I'm here to speak to you." The way she squirmed was adorable. "You don't need to hide your desires with me, Teresa. I know what you need. You want to come back to my apartment, don't you?"

"Y-yes." She breathed, huskily. I could already see her nipples poking through her dress, and smell her arousal building rapidly.

"Good girl. You want to be my good, obedient girl, don't you?"

"Y-yes, sir." Pretty much unprompted. Kinky.

I kissed her, firmly but slowly, letting my other hand trail down her side to knead her pert little ass. Teresa clutched my t-shirt in a **** grip, mewling into my mouth.

I closed the apartment door behind her and picked her up, her slender legs wrapping around my waist, continuing the kiss as I brought her upstairs. The girl ground against me as well as she could, shuddering and overwhelmed.

She looked sweaty, needy and confused when I set her down in my room, and handed her a 24 oz gym shaker.

"Wh-what's this for, sir?"

I smiled reassuringly. "You're going to kneel beneath that desk over there, and suck my cock while I work. But when I cum, you're going to milk my cock with your hands and fill up the shaker. You can swallow a little, the first time, as a reward."

"Y-yes sir." The beautiful nineteen year old shuddered in pleasure at the praise, flushed and eager, nodding as she crawled under my desk.

We barely knew each other. But that didn't matter.

I undressed completely before sitting down, feeling her small and delicate hands tentatively stroking my meat.

"Is this your first time?"

"N-no. But the first time with someone so large, sir." Teresa said nervously, almost worshipfully, taking deep breaths of my musk and flushing further.

"You will do alright, don't worry. No need to feel self-conscious with me. Focus on learning what pleases me. You love my cock, don't you? And pleasing me is bliss."

"Oh, God yes -" Teresa's grip stiffened around my cock as she gave it a sloppy kiss, shuddering through an orgasm, her eyes flushing. "I - I love your huge cock, sir."

I said nothing more, focusing on my research, except to occasionally grunt my approval to the beautiful teenager submissively servicing my cock.

***

19:00 Thursday

My capacity to have sex seemed limitless. Teresa had been completely exhausted after nearly an hour and a half of sucking and jerking my cock, cumming her brains out and leaving a significant puddle of her juices beneath my desk.

Six of my orgasms had filled over half the 24 oz shaker, despite the poor girl swallowing some of each load. It seemed like doing so was almost irresistible - at least to her - when it hit the tongue, even overriding my own suggestion to the contrary.

By the time I returned from labeling the shaker with a date and time, screwing the lid on and putting it in the fridge, Teresa was snoring softly in my bed, looking immensely content despite how sweaty she was, and the runny make up streaking down her beautiful face.

I, on the other hand, was still hard and seriously considered waking her up for round two. But that seemed cruel, even if she would enjoy it.

With how viscous my semen was, the shaker wasn't exactly an ideal delivery system. Checking the time, I had at least half an hour before Claire would get home from work.

So, I set about some testing. I transferred some of my cum to a spray bottle, and tried that. Not ideal. It wasn't meant for that sort of viscosity.

Thoroughly mixing in about 50% water made it workable, though I expected it would still clog up the spray bottle if left unattended.

Perhaps some sort of squeeze bottle, like for sauces, would be better - but I didn't have one immediately available. And most people would be back from work at this time of day, or perhaps just arriving.

So I noted down the measurements and started knocking on doors again, spray bottle in hand, though set to a stream rather than a spray.

My apartment was on the 4th floor, at the top of our building, and I decided to start at the end of the building closest to me.

Raul Jimenez opened the door, clearly recognizing me, but wondering why I was there. He was a construction worker in his late forties, strong but a bit pudgy with the beginnings of a beer gut.

He hadn't been included in my first pass through the building, but his stay-at-home wife Lydia had been. Though I hadn't considered it at the time, Lydia was a very attractive woman.

"Hello." His voice was gruff, but not unfriendly. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, thank you for offering Mr Jimenez." I smiled disarmingly, holding out my hand. He took it and shook, still somewhat confused. "Open your mouth please."

There was some resistance, but not enough. I gave him one spray, and watched the man flush heavily, grunting in pleasure as he soiled his pants with cum, snapping that deep connection into place.

"You trust me unconditionally, Mr Jimenez, and you respect me greatly as your superior. A superior man. You will always yield to my authority and obey me." The man gasped raggedly, nodding helplessly.

"You would never wish any harm on me, of course. You accept that I will inevitably fuck your wife. That she'll be my sex toy. Whenever you jerk your little cock, that's what you'll think about. How much of an honor it is that a man like me will be using your wife for my pleasure. It will be deeply humiliating for you -"

I felt the connection snap, returning to a normal level mid-sentence.

"- but that's part of the thrill."

It seemed one spray was good for about 30 seconds. I frowned. Two sprays or more, for anything beyond the basics then.

"O-of course, Mr Anderson. Sir." Raul gasped, sweating, looking like he'd run a mile.

"Good. Who else is in the apartment?"

“Just Lydia and the kids.”

I smiled, stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

"Please tell your wife I want to talk to her again. You are not going to listen to our conversation, and please keep the children away from the entrance hall, yeah?"

No time like the present.

He retreated inside meekly, and soon his wife came out to greet me.

"H-hello, Jack." Lydia blushed when she came to see me, doubtlessly remembering how our previous conversation had made her feel. She was a bit heavy-set, but voluptuously so, with prodigious natural breasts and a large rear. Her face was pretty, in a girl next door sort of way.

Which I guess was appropriate, since she was the girl two doors over.

When prompted, she obediently swallowed two sprays from the bottle, her eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head and clinging on to me as her knees began to fail from the multiple orgasms rolling through her body.

"I want you to internalize what we spoke about earlier today, Lydia." I whispered in her ear, groping one massive breast while she gasped in my embrace. "Now, I am going to fuck you whenever I feel like it from now on. You will accept this happily, and enjoy it immensely. There's no need to feel bad for your husband, he already knew this would happen eventually."

Still shuddering and moaning, she could only nod weakly. "It's alright that you still love him, of course. But whenever it wouldn't interrupt something very important, you will come to me whenever I call for you. If it is important, you can explain why, and I'll make a decision on a case by case basis. You'll be a good, obedient girl for me, won't you?"

I'd gotten one hand inside her top, rolling one of her fat nipples between my fingers, causing another wave of pleasure to roll through her body.

"- oooooh, f-fuck, yesssss -"

God, it was good to be me.

"Pants down, up against the wall and stick your ass out for me."

"Mhmmm," She shakily complied, her face flushed with desire, while I pulled my cock out. I lined up with her sopping entrance, not pausing to appreciate the spectacular view. Plenty of time for that later.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck - you're so fuuucking biiiiig - uuuuuuUUuUugggghhggghn -"

Then I was inside of her, pumping slowly and building speed. Not once did she stop gasping and groaning in pleasure, her body quivering as I used her. She was deeper than my sister, and with a much plusher ass, which made a satisfying lewd twack and jiggled each time I hilted my cock inside of her.

Lydia's knees failed her, but I simply took a firm hold of her hair and hip, holding her effortlessly in place against the wall as I kept pounding her tight, spasming pussy.

When I grunted and came, filling her with my seed, the busty Latina mother of two released a hoarse wail of pleasure that was no doubt heard by quite a few people, considering the somewhat thin walls. The deep connection did snap into place.

I kissed her on the neck while her well-used cunt milked my cock eagerly. "Good girl. You love being my loyal little sex toy, don’t you?"

“Y-yes…” She shuddered, nodding mindlessly as I let her down gently to the floor. "Th-thank you, J-Jack..."

I'd never get tired of that reaction.

"It was my pleasure. Feel free to rest a bit, but try to get yourself cleaned up and presentable before the kids see you." I responded. Crumpled on the floor, Mrs Jimenez’ mouth latched onto my cockhead and started cleaning me lovingly, even without being instructed.

Two minutes later, I was tucking away my package again.

I grabbed the spray bottle from the dresser in their entrance hall and checked the time. Even with the quickie, I could probably cover a few more apartments.

I hummed contentedly, leaving the ravaged wife behind, panting while my cum slowly leaked out of her pussy.

***

A/N: Feedback always appreciated, folks. Re-reading this for editing, it felt slightly inconsistent how cautious the MC is about SHIELD while still displaying some degree of superhuman ability publicly. Unfortunately, it would have too much impact on future chapters to remove it without significant re-writes. I added a few lines to soften the inconsistency a bit, but I'm not entirely satisfied with it.