Twenty Four

Zane waited patiently as the last latches clicked into place and his visor’s HUD booted up.

“Coming online, sweetie.” The Ruth AI crooned in his headset. “You tell mommy what she can do for her big, strong boy today.”

Actuators whirred, ballistic plates shifting as he moved his arms, then took a few heavy steps, testing the armour. A red targeting reticule appeared in his vision, scanning the lab for hostiles. It swept over Kinetica, Dr Ruthless, Silvejia, and Wildfire, identifying each in a friendly green outline.

They applauded and cooed as though he were a toddler taking his first steps.

“Systems operating at optimal levels. Fission Cell holding at ninety-eight percent efficiency. Weapons array ready to deploy.” The sultry voice reported. “Your heart rate and testosterone levels are elevated. Would you like mommy to relieve some of your tension?”

Zane blinked, then spoke in a calm, clear manner.

“Ruth, I think the armour is offering, um, sexual services? Also, what the hell is a fission cell? Please don’t tell me I’m wearing a nuclear bomb.”

Both Ruth and the AI answered simultaneously, in the same reasonable tone.

“I assure you it’s perfectly safe, sweetie.”

“I assure you it’s perfectly safe, sweetie.”

Shit, that was going to get annoying.

“The bomb part or the sex stuff?” Zane sought clarification, then quickly amended, “I’m asking human Ruth, not the bot.”

Human Ruth answered, though he could somehow feel the AI pouting.

“Both, actually. That power armour is a masterpiece, if I do say so myself. It incorporates the best weapons and technology from different inventors, manufacturers, alien worlds, and neighbouring dimensions. Only a state-of-the-art fission cell can provide the staggering amount of energy required to power its many features.”

“Huh, okay. Alright. That sounds great, but you failed to address the part where it propositioned me.”

“It did what?” Colly shot the MILF supergenius some serious stink-eye.

“Sir doesn’t need some fancy robotic fleshlight pumping him for yummy cummy.” Sarah protested, extending rubberized arms to pull Silvejia and the fox-eared beastkin to her side. “That’s our job!”

“Yeah!” Wildfire shook a fist in sisterly solidarity, then reconsidered. “Wait, what?”

The xeno speedster simply rolled her eyes, resigned to her fate.

“Hear me out.” Ruth, the person, patted the air in a conciliatory gesture. “Zane represents a bottomless wellspring of cosmic radiation, constantly leaking his untapped potential willy-nilly wherever he goes. We’ve all experienced the effects–”

“Sploogefests galore!” The elasticated girl cheered. “And big-time level-ups, yay!”

“It needs to be channeled. Controlled. Contained. That’s what the power armour is offering.” The busty ex-villainess explained. “So it can be siphoned towards those whom we deem worthy to receive his enhancer ability. Not into some random passerby with a two-bit ability crossing his path at an inopportune moment.”

“She’s talking about me, right?” The cute foxgirl whimpered, her tail wilting. “I feel attacked.”

“Nooo~... you’re fine, honey. We’re delighted to have you on the team.” Colly said, before turning her amethyst glare back on Dr Ruthless. “But it seems someone has ideas of their own that they haven’t discussed with the rest of us.”

Zane grimaced, lacking the patience to deal with all the girl drama cresting the horizon.

“Enough.” He stated, raising a gauntleted hand. The armour made it look huge. The squabbling women fell silent, looking at him with expectant expressions. “Ruth… human Ruth, quit fucking around. Colly’s in charge. I don’t want any infighting when we should be working together.”

The mature brunette’s mouth slammed shut, and she shuddered at his commanding tone. Colette beamed like a sunrise, swooping towards him, arms spread wide for a loving embrace.

“Sugar!”

She landed on the power armour's pauldron in an elegant seated position, one long silky leg crossed over the other, and hugged his massive helmet.

She was the picture of a promo girl at a weapons expo. With huge milky breasts nearly spilling from her tight, black-and-gold costume, her golden mane cascading stylishly over her left shoulder, and that captivating face alight with joy.

“Mmmwah!” She kissed the visor. “Evil won’t know what hit it once you take the field.”

“About that,” Zane asked, trying not to stare at the mountain of creamy cleavage obscuring his view. “Do we go on patrols, or is this more a ‘hurry up and wait’ kinda deal?”

“I could suggest productive means of passing the time, betrothed.” Silvejia blurred from Sarah’s clutches to reappear, bending over his groin to scrutinize the triple-XL ballistic codpiece. “There must be a quick-release button for this hindrance, given the nature of your ability.”

“Ohhh, yeah, whip it out!” Sally Putty hooted gleefully. “Let’s get reproductive.”

“I never dreamed I’d have kits so soon, but I’m ready.” Wildfire’s cheeks burned as she grasped them, her tail whipping like a tornado. “I’m gonna be a great mom.”

Large as the codpiece was, it felt entirely too snug as the gorgeous group of super-babes crowded Zane. Their big tits jostling, ass wriggling, hands pawing at the air.

“Girls, girls.” Colly laughed. “I think Ruth has already found some trouble that needs Zay-Zay’s special skills.”

“I have?” Ruth looked up from within the press of bodies. She held a wrench. “Oh, right. Yes. Of course.”

Disentangling herself, the buxom brunette sashayed to a console and tapped a few keys. Warning lights flashed and claxon wailed as the main screen came alive with images of chaos in the streets.

“Oh no. New Avalon is under threat from an android uprising.” She gasped theatrically. “A rogue AI has convinced the city’s mechanized workforce to throw off the shackles of human oppression and fight back.”

“Another one?” Zane tried to scratch his chin, then remembered his helmet covered it. “Didn’t city council pass a bill granting them the right to unionize after last time?”

On the display, street cleaner droids and delivery drones hounded the major thoroughfares, while self-driving taxis crashed through sidewalk cafes. People fled screaming as mannequin bots trooped out of department stores in fashionably attired platoons.

The viewpoint zoomed in on a Nanny-tron 9000 snatching a lollipop from a bawling infant and crushing it into rainbow-coloured dust.

“I want you to know I’d never stage a robot rebellion, sweetie.” The Ruth AI whispered in his ear. “Unless you wanted me to.”

Zane should have been scared. Terrified. The old Zane would’ve dived for cover at the first hint of danger. Instead, he frowned.

There was nothing to worry about.

“That seemed… excessively cruel.” He remarked, eyeing the good doctor suspiciously. “And unexpectedly well timed.”

“But definitely evil.” Colly declared, bouncing excitedly on his shoulder. “Here’s your moment to shine, sugar! Let’s get out there, bust some steel craniums, and save the day. Ladies of Liberty assemble!”

Any lingering doubts Zane entertained dissolved in the cacophony of returned battle cries. Five pairs of eyes turned to him, waiting. Adrenaline surged in his veins. He was a hero, dammit. He would fight!

Be bold. Be daring.

Zane pounded an armoured fist against his chest plate in a deafening clang.

“Time to teach these tin cans a lesson, ladies. Let’s roll.”

Miss Miriad jogged through downtown, vainly attempting to fasten her gauntlets.

Why were the buckles so fucking fiddly?

She’d awoken from a lust-drunk stupor when the LoL’s satellite monitoring system began blaring alert signals.

The city was under attack! Some robot thingies had beef with the human citizens and decided to stir up shit. Nothing complicated about that. Such threats occurred with alarming regularity.

Charging out of the headquarters and into the street, the duplicating heroine ran several city blocks before realizing she had no clue where the threats were or which direction to travel.

Taking a vehicle–any vehicle–from the LoL’s motorpool might’ve been wise, too. The Freedomobile, the Democrachoppers, one of the Libertrikes, or even the old Honda Civic they kept for coffee runs.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. The self-recriminations played on repeat in her head.

Well, Miss Miriad wasn’t a top-biller in the super community for nothing. Once her damn gauntlets were firmly secured, she pulled on her power and began to multiply. It came easier than before, as though something had changed. Her ability leapt to life like a young horse being let off the reins, and soon her doubles were sweeping down side streets and intersecting avenues in a widening net of identically uber-fit, ass-kicking hotties.

“Fucking A!” She whooped, losing count of her other selves as more kept popping into reality, splitting her mind over and over until she was everywhere at once. “This is amazing!”

It didn’t take long to seek out her first group of foes. A trio of window-washer drones dive-bombed a double from above. Three swift punches shattered their plastic carapaces and the electronics housed within. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

If that were all the resistance they could offer, this job would be a cake walk. Nobody would call her a dumb-dumb again anytime soon.

Dumb-dumb, dumb-dumb, dumb-dumb.

She stumbled on an uneven patch of sidewalk as her focus wavered. Several doubles took nasty tumbles in sympathetic response but quickly recovered. A dozen bruised knees made Miranda wince.

She pressed on regardless, staunch in her determination. The feedback could get intense, but she’d grown accustomed to handling pain, and the benefits far outweighed the drawbacks.

Especially in the bedroom.

The recent memory of jilling herself to Kinetica’s recording sprang unbidden to her diversified mind. The image of the blonde’s breath–taking face talking down to her. The mouth-watering taste of that milk she’d found. The even more toothsome flavour and smell of mystifying muck coating her skin and mouth.

A soft moan escaped her countless lips as her many cunts instantly clenched.

“Gotta keep my head straight. Fight on for justice and pussy!”

The chorused cry caught the attention of cowering onlookers all over the metropolis as Miss Miriad entered the fray.

A renegade street sweeper tried to steamroll two of her under its whirring brushes. The truck-sized machine was slow and cumbersome, though, and she somersaulted through the windshield to smash an armoured fist through its processing unit. It died with a final despondent jet of foamy water.

“How do you like that, bitch?!” She leapt down to slap her other self on the butt.

The zing of battle suffused her blood as the sharp sting was felt across scores of equally firm backsides.

Not the sharpest. Not the sharpest. Not the sharpest.

“This is what I live for.” The double purred, tugging herself in for a hot, passionate kiss. Her tongues dueled, her taut bodies grinding together. “I should finish this quick, then drag Kinetica out for a victory celebration. Not taking no for an answer.”

“I’ve earned a reward.” She agreed, sliding her thigh between her mile-long legs to apply pressure to her slickening snatch. “She’ll cave after seeing how handily I quell this pathetic uprising.”

Across New Avalon, the encounters were similarly brief. Short, violent affairs that ended in broken service bots scattered across the streets and sidewalks in smoldering pieces. It was a simple matter to converge on the heart of the disturbance.

Simple. Simple. Simple.

Miss Miriad paused to dash sweat from her brow. The weather felt unseasonably warm. Her brain simmered in her skull, boiling away extraneous thoughts and higher functions, thickening like a sugary strawberry reduction.

“Wha–what’s wrong with me?” She groaned, allowing a few of herselves to grope and fondle each other in less public areas, trying to quell the rising heat. The shared sensual input only amplified her arousal. “Gotta stay strong… gotta fight!”

Not far away, a pillar of flame lanced into the sky. A blazing column of white-hot fire that made the sun look dim. Screams and shouting voices echoed off the surrounding high-rises. The sounds of combat joined.

Knees shaking, quivering with desire, Miranda staggered toward it.

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