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Chapter 7 by otx otx

What do you do?

Confront him

You land behind him. "Hold it right there!"

His head whips around. "Carlotta?"

Carlotta? That's Grandmother's name! Who the hell is...?

You freeze; he knows everything: what you've been keeping from your husband; what you've been hiding from the government; what you're hiding from yourself because you don't want to admit it. He knows and he's going to tell them and your super-career is over and you'll probably go to jail. You're frightened and humiliated and your world is coming to an end...

You're on your knees in the parking lot, crying. He's standing over you and looking down. You **** yourself to look up at him; his face is three-quarters covered by a black butterfly-style mask.

"You're not Influence, are you? You're not Francesca either; she doesn't have any powers. But you're affected... a granddaughter? Oh, this is precious; are you having fun wallowing in your ancestor's misdeeds?"

"Get out of my head!"

"It doesn't work that way, Grandbaby." He gently strokes your back; you can't do a damned thing to stop him. "I guess she didn't tell you only the truth can set you free. Now, let's see if you inherited her best attributes."

You're held motionless as he reaches under your top and unclasps the strap that keeps the sides of the diamond in place. It collapses to a vertical band leaving both your breasts hanging out. You try to squirm away but can barely move. You're so afraid all you can do is whimper while he plays with your tits.

He grabs your chin and pulls your face up. "Remember, Grandbaby, I owned your grandmother and I own you. No wait, what do they say nowadays? I pwn you. I can tell you one thing, though; your tits are a lot softer than Grandma's ever were. But then she was older than you are now."

"Let me up!"

"Sorry dear, not right now. You're going to stay here and squirm while I head off for my next appointment. TTFN, Boobs."

"My name is Nudge."

"Like 'nudge, nudge, wink wink?' I love a good Python reference. Maybe we'll do some 'whoagh' later." He makes a suggestive hip thrust and laughs. "Get grandma to tell you about me; tell her **** says hello."

With a last slap on your bare back he gets in the car and drives away. The woman is nowhere in sight; she presumably ran off while **** was taunting you. You're alone on your knees with your hands somehow stuck to the pavement and your tits hanging out and freezing in the night air. And your nipples are erect; ha-ha. The only good thing about this is that there are no security cameras up here to witness your humiliation.

After almost five minutes of struggling you can suddenly move again. Congratulations, you've met your first supervillain. He hides in plain sight: trench coat, fedora, and butterfly mask. Except for the mask he could be any of a thousand middle-aged men. And he has something on your grandmother that somehow still works on you to the point where he can stop you dead in your tracks. And your boobs are freezing.

You re-fasten your top and fly home. Being a superhero sucks.

What's next?

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