He refused to be defined by his power.

No. John's head rose from between her thighs and moved towards her. Her false hand, glittering and cold, covered the space between her legs as if to ward off the approaching cock, but that wasn't John's intention. Not yet. Jumping around, using magic to solve my problems, using game mechanics on everything... that's how I crossed Moira. That's how I got Tricia into trouble... that's how I got here, even. He stopped himself just short from pitying the vicious Hawthorne staring enviously at John's back. "It would be cheating," he whispered to the warrior underneath him. Healing her... if I even could... would mean yet another "normal" person knowing about me, possibly using it against me, possibly being put in harm's way for knowing... and controlling her would just prove... "I want to make you feel good naturally."

"Losing your nerve so soon? You've still got more than a minute to-" Ophelia's eyebrows raised as John moved in to kiss her, but she returned the kiss with an unexpected ferocity. This was not some blushing maiden that explored John's mouth: she wrestled his mouth with a nonchalant expertise, and her fingers going through his hair at the back of his head drove him to press against her, skin against scars, one hand on her tit and the other snaking underneath her fit form. Despite his intentions, his habit had him knocking at her false knuckles with his natural urge. He couldn't answer her with words, and so let his mouth drift down her face in mismatched, tender kisses until they landed onto her scarred neck. There, he kissed deeply, forcefully, demanding that she feel it. For all his fears of numbed flesh, she felt it as brutally as he meant it, and tugged slightly on his head.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"That's the problem with boys," she whispered back. "Reckless, selfish. Do you feel sorry for me? Do you think no one could love me?"

John bit her scarred neck softly, and at last she flinched. "I would never."

"At least you're man enough to lie," she hissed, and grabbed his cock with her good hand as she might the handle of a hatch.

He wasn't going to correct her; he didn't have the time right now. Instead he retorted with caresses, toying with her flesh as he experimented with her likes and dislikes, and remained oblivious to the furious woman in the corner.

Vanessa sat on her knees on the bed with both of her hands spitefully attacking her sex. She had tried to do the same after John, for hours with the aid of toys and porn, but couldn't bring herself any joy except when she half-remembered, half-imagined the fever dream of their first evening together. Even then, his absence made the experience hollow, and every attempt to toy with herself fruitless.

So why now...? Vanessa's thoughts were a soup of self-loathing and arousal, and her fingers dripped with her honey as she drove them in and hooked into her own flesh. Her body trembled and glistened, and her breaths became labored as something like an orgasm, one built on hate and bitter defeat, started to build at the base of her spine. It didn't matter that she was left here to suffer, or that he was enjoying a woman, a broken woman, a worthless woman in Vanessa's eyes, who didn't even seem to want him. She was going to tremble like a dog in heat just by the virtue of his mere presence; the fact that he was aroused, eager, and naked. It was all she needed to get past her humiliation. It was pathetic. Her tears didn't burn on her cheeks because her entire face was already red with a mixture of impotent rage and potent ecstasy, and she failed to contain the squeak of her voice as she violently rubbed the leaking mess her thighs tried to crush.

Vanessa spilled her shameful display to stain her sheets, John writhed as he was slowly overcome by his building desire... and Ophelia's watch beeped.

"That's time, lover boy," she sighed, "but at least you tried."

John was going to be rejected... he was going to have to stop. But I don't want to stop- No. John throttled his drive down, and sprung off Ophelia as if to save himself. He turned from her and walked towards his clothes, struggling to catch his breath. The Marine stared at his back, glistening with sweat as it was in those mere minutes they shared. His hand stroked his cock angrily.

Vanessa was already bounding off the bed to chase after him by the time he neared his clothes. "Please, John," she begged, falling to her knees as she reached his thigh. "Please... don't leave me like this..."

John's twitching manhood agreed, and he was irritated with its demands. "Vanessa..."

"Please... y-you didn't do it to her, right? I know that must mean something... but I'm alright with it. I'm sorry I tried to..." She hesitated, and John needed a reminder of why the pity welling in his chest was wasted. A quick read mind helped.

... but how did he KNOW?! It doesn't matter... I have to own up, apologize, make it up to him... even if it's with my body. I can't afford to lose him this early... "... I r-really didn't mean any harm, so please... give it to me... you've... you've proven your point, a-and I played along, right?" Vanessa pushed her face into his leg as she hugged it. "You have no idea how hard... that was... I... I deserve a treat for being so good to you, don't I?" Show her.

John opened his mouth as he contemplated his words.

Show her you still want me more than you want her. Please... I can't lose to something like THAT...

His lips sealed before clenched teeth.

The Marine muttered as she walked towards her clothes. "After all that work I put in to keep you in one piece, Vanessa..." She grimaced as she felt a gliding wetness between her thighs, and eyed the glistening evidence on the inside of her prosthetic grip. She rubbed the black digits clean on her thigh without a second thought. Hell, he wasn't half-bad once he stopped attacking my "Victoria" like a dog... still, he's a kid. I can't waste my time babysitting-

"I humored your claim to be my girlfriend," John said in an unexpectedly loud, clear voice. Vanessa looked up with wide, despairing eyes. Ophelia simply raised an eyebrow. "I didn't want to cause problems for you... and I know what I... what I did to you was wrong." John kneeled down, and Vanessa awkwardly tried to regain a grip on his leg until he lifted her up by her armpits with incredible ease. Facing him, she tried to join their crotches until he hugged her tightly, there in the buff, with an unexpected warmth. His dick, involuntarily hard, pressed flat against her mound, but didn't inch any closer to claiming her anew.

"John-" Vanessa started, even as Ophelia was ready to march over and pry him away.

"I'm sorry." A pause was shared by all three of them. "I... I don't know if you were always this broken. I don't know if it's my fault... but I can't risk taking advantage of you if it was." He planted a soft kiss on Vanessa's perfect hair, and she shivered in his grip. "If you need me to pretend so you can save face at school, I will... but we would never have worked out, and I think you knew it before yesterday." John contemplated one of those stereotypical lines, something to assuage the shuddering girl in his arms, the girl that he broke, as Ophelia might have said. The usual form of the one he decided upon was a lie on its face, so he exchanged it for the truth: "It's just as much about me as it is about you."

He let her go, and started to put his clothes back on as the Cheerleader Queen stood there, naked and stunned. Wide eyes, a gaping mouth, and the ruffle in her hair from where he kissed her were all immortalized for the minute it took him to put his casual wear on. Though she never took her eyes off the two, Ophelia followed suit and started the painstaking process of putting on her underwear and the first layer of her uniform. Vanessa did not get dressed... she didn't so much as move. She remained in the impossible scenario of being dumped, and by none other than the spineless nerd from high school, the one she dumped Frank for... the one whose magical secrets she'd never be able to convince anyone were true.

"I'll have a driver take you home," Ophelia offered as she raised her pants. Vanessa was finally snapped out of her trance, but she could only uselessly alternate between her bodyguard and her ex-boyfriend.

Ex...? Hey... this isn't right... I'm... I'm Vanessa Hawthorne! I... I'm the one in control! I just need to-

"Stop it, Vanessa." Ophelia raised an eyebrow at John's sudden outburst, but Vanessa, terrified by the man she desperately longed for, knew precisely what he meant. He had answered her thoughts as if she had spoken them... and there, in the state of undeniable vulnerability, where her greatest armor was torn away like so much paper mache, her plotting mind could no longer function.

Without secrets and lies, there was very little prettiness left of one Vanessa Hawthorne.

"You'll have plenty of control over whoever lets you... but I refuse to be controlled. I refuse to control you, too."

Ophelia turned her head as she smiled.

Vanessa's voice started to catch in her throat, and an incomprehensible whimper was all that escaped her before she made a dash past John and into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her and so closing the night.

John slipped on his sneakers as he turned to regard Ophelia. "Can the driver take the maids, too? I'll let her call me when she wants the money."

"I broke up more than one sex **** ring on my tour, Johnny," she sighed, putting her pants on, "so I sure as Hell don't intend to have any part in yours."

"I don't want to take them for that," he spat. "I'm going to try and get them set up somewhere safe, though I really... don't know how..." The last thing on his mind was branding them; the idea disgusted him, now. Tara... This encounter had left a crystal clear guilt in his chest. What had he done, in that **** moment? Could he ever justify it with his need? He still hadn't faced her, or what he did. He couldn't think about it now: he had to figure out what to do with two maids who knew nothing of the Abyss, first.

"If you let them leave with me," Ophelia suddenly whispered, "I know a small crew that'll help them get away, and get free when they do it." John stared at her, wide-eyed. "What? I know the score better than you, kid. If the Hawthornes are really buying girls, then they'll do whatever they need to keep it under wraps. No media blitz will win against them if we just reveal their slaves, and then we'll end up with contracts on our heads. You cut them loose, two girls with fake or no papers? They'll end up back here or worse."

It took a moment for John to realize she was talking about regular **** contracts. "Oh... I... well, I'm not too worried about those kind of contracts-"

"You almost have me liking you, Johnny," she grumbled. "Don't fuck it up by being an idiot."

"Y-Yes ma'am." John eyed her jacket, and moved to pick it up for her. She swiped it up in a fluid motion, almost as if insulted that he'd try. Did... did she say she likes me, after all? I was sure she hated my guts- It was as she put the jacket on that he saw the handle of a pistol. Shit, she was armed too? Does anyone work here without a gun?!

"Were you bluffing about the money?" John blinked at her. "The 200K, for the girls. If you've really got that money to burn, you should know it's going to cost me most of my severance pay to get these girls to safety, if I don't get any help."

"Oh, well I'll pay- wait, severance?" He winced as Vanessa's misery spiked within the bathroom, and so reflected in his own mind.

She tsked. "You think I'd stick around here, knowing what I know now? A suspicion is one thing... Hell, I figure most rich people are that rotten. But if it's all true, well... there's no way in Hell I'm going to keep posing for her or her daddy."

She pulled on her jacket with a measure of pride and disgust, and started for the door. John followed, wanting to put distance between him and the racking sobs coming from the bathroom. How c-could he leave ME?!

It was clear Vanessa was too distracted by her own emotions to have heard anything they said. He broke the link, and was relieved by the tranquility that followed.

Read mind is now level 5!

"Here, give me your phone."

She stopped at the door and chuckled. "I've already got all your numbers. I'll call you to talk about it when it's safe to do so, how about that?" John nodded, and looked her over. Aside from a glimmer of perspiration on her forehead, one would never know she was just rolling in bed with him... even if he did fail to pleasure her. A desire to improve burned in the Gamer, and she caught the glint in his eye. "Hey... you're not hoping a second chance at that, are you?"

"As many as I can get," he grinned.