Testing Your Limits (1)

A/N: This is your brief reminder and warning that two of the stated themes for this storyline are **** feminization and race play, since it's the first chapter that really touches on either. Any feedback still appreciated, but if it just isn't your cup of tea, then I would recommend skipping this and future chapters.

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Ch 7 - Testing Your Limits (1)

Friday 10th of June

04:45 Friday

I woke up early again and, after carefully extricating myself from Claire’s tangle of limbs, decided to go for a run.

The whole unmarked van thing really wasn’t very discreet when you were following a guy who was on foot and moving through practically deserted streets, often cutting through park areas.

Perhaps it would have worked if I didn’t know exactly what vehicle Archie and Lacey were in, but it seemed blatantly obvious that I was being followed.

Running, now, was an odd experience. I’d never enjoyed it before. Always felt it was one of the most uncomfortable ways to exercise, and my conditioning had never been great.

Now? I consciously had to hold myself back within normal, human speeds. It was just as effortless as lifting weights in the gym yesterday, and that made the experience actually enjoyable for once.

I just took in the sights and sounds of the city around me, my constant internal analysis picking up more details about the neighborhoods I passed through than I’d ever known where there, out in the open for everyone to see.

Nearing the 6 am shift change for my monitoring agents, I had looped through downtown and swung around the nearby lake in a wide arch, and was coming back up on my apartment building. No reason to make it more complicated for my babysitters, since I doubted the run - while enjoyable - had any significant health benefits for me any longer.

Taking out my phone, I checked the message I’d received half an hour ago.

Well, well. I’d almost forgotten about the rogue super.

[Luke Cage: Meet at 10 today?]

He’d attached an address which, when I checked it, seemed to lead to a local junkyard.

Interesting choice of venue. My experience with agents Lloyd and Porter told me he probably wasn’t planning to jump me, but there was always the possibility of some weird power interaction.

[Jack Anderson: Sure, I’ll be there.]

Switching over to the distance tracking app, I raised my eyebrows. Huh.

I’d done a worse job than I thought, keeping it within normal human speed.

I’d run a marathon in less than an hour and a half. Which, if I remembered correctly - and my memory was damn near perfect now - was more than half an hour quicker than the world record for normal folks.

Still, it shouldn’t have looked unnatural unless you were following my progress for a good while. It was only marginally faster than the world record pace for 1500 meters.

Hmm. I’d have to test top speed at some point.

***

07:30 Friday

I’d had a shower and then had time to cook up a real spread for breakfast. Pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. Everything a growing boy needs.

I’d stepped on the scale this morning and realized I’d gained another 11 pounds since I came out of the hospital. None of it seemed to be fatty tissue.

I was flipping the last of the pancakes when my sister came in, her hair still slightly damp from the shower, wearing a bathrobe. She wrapped me in a soft hug from behind.

“Mmmmh.” Claire had never been much of a morning person, but she’d get up to speed after a cup of coffee. “Missed you when I woke up. Smells great.” She yawned, long and loud, despite sleeping a solid 8 hours at least.

I turned off the stove plates, and then turned into her embrace, giving her a good morning kiss that seemed to curl her toes, judging by the sounds she was making.

“Have a seat, I’ll pour you some coffee.”

She chuckled, smiling happily. “You really know how to take care of a girl, huh?”

“You’re one to talk,” I snorted, “I enjoyed your after-dinner surprise yesterday.”

She had the audacity to blush, but only chirped “Good.” in reply, accepting the steaming cup of java. We dug into the food in relative silence. Not uncomfortable, but the sort of companionable silence where nothing needed to be said.

“So, date with the doctor today, huh?” Claire said with a teasing smile, after a while.

I’d considered letting her know about all of the business with SHIELD and powers, but it just seemed safer if she didn’t know.

“Mhm,” I shrugged, smiling. “We're getting coffee.”

“Oooh, are you bringing her to Night Owl?” Claire laughed. That was the café she worked at, part time while school was in session, but she’d managed to get enough shifts to make it full-time over the summer.

“Actually, yes. Couldn’t hurt to introduce her to my lovely little sister, right?”

Claire blushed, spluttering. “Just, you know, maybe bear in mind that not everyone will be as understanding as Teresa is.”

“I can probably get her to come around to the idea.” I chuckled, winking at her. “But I’m not expecting you to make out with me in public either.”

“Well, aren’t you Mr Confident all of a sudden,” Claire laughed back, shaking her head. But then squirmed in her chair, looking away with a small smile. “It’s a nice thought, though…”

***

09:15 Friday

I grunted in satisfaction as I bottomed out again, feeling agent Lara Dawkins’ pussy clamp down around my cock, milking me for cum as my balls emptied inside of her.

“Oh, f-fuck, I’m c-cuuuuummiiiiiiiing - c-cumming for y-your w-white cock, siiiir - nnnNNnGgggH -” Her dark brown skin glistened with sweat as she squirmed and shuddered beneath me, her pussy squirting rythmically in time with each torrent of jism I deposited in her womb.

I got a firm hold on her silky black hair and pulled her up to look at her boyfriend, exhausted and shaking with satisfaction, while he looked mildly ill and utterly humiliated, clutching the armrests of my computer chair hard enough for his knuckles to pale.

“Tell Cammie what you are, Lara.”

“I-I’m Mr Anderson’s fucktoy, baby. Just a h-happy little black slut for him to use. Mmmh, thank you for taking me from Cammie, Sir. For showing me my place.”

God, the anguish on his face. She’d even picked up on using his nickname. The not-so-subtle racial aspect there? Not something I told her to do. But fuck if it didn’t make me rock hard, too.

“It’s - um, it’s okay, Lara. I… I just want you to be happy.”

“God, I am. S-so happy.” Lara moaned, wriggling her hips with what little energy she had left. “Stuffed full of his white dick.”

“That’s… good…” Camryn shuddered, looking away in shame.

I chuckled, letting Lara down gently. She mewled in pleasure as I pulled out of her well-used cunt. I stood up next to Camryn and let him stare at my still-hard cock for a moment, before I took a firm grip under his jaw and tipped his head back to look into my eyes.

He looked humiliated, and so fucking horny.

“Go ahead and clean her up for me, Cammie. Lick all of my cum out of her. I bet you’re going to love that, aren’t you?” I grinned, seeing him crumble under the words. He tried to act on the command immediately, but I kept him in place. “It’s as close as you’ll ever come to sucking my cock without becoming a girl, huh?”

“Yes, sir…” Flushed with shame, he looked away, even as he nodded uncertainly.

“Keep looking in my eyes while I’m talking to you, bitch.” His eyes snapped back to mine, utterly defeated. “I bet you wish that it was you I was using like my toy, don’t you?”

A range of conflicting emotions flitted across his anguished, needy face. My aura, or whatever it was, was affecting him too, no matter how he struggled. Finally, he broke down, with a half-sobbed, “Y-yes, Sir.”

“But you know I only fuck girly sluts. Nice, soft, obedient girls - like your girlfriend.”

“I - y-yes, I know.”

“You’re going to think about that, whenever you are horny from now on. Whenever you watch me fuck your girl. Whenever you stroke that pathetic little clit.”

Cam nodded again, looking close to crying.

I released his chin, and gestured towards where Lara was now snoring softly.

“Go ahead, suck all of my cum out of her, you little slut.”

In that fragile mental state, Cammie couldn’t contain an eager moan as he stood up shakily and crawled between his girlfriend’s legs. From the first lick, he started shuddering in pleasure, his hips twitching as he squirted in his pants.

I wondered how long that little experiment would take to bear fruit. I wasn’t in a hurry, but it would be amusing watching him try to get my attention away from his girlfriend. It was about power more than anything. I was reveling in it.

Before they left, I told Cam to shut his ears for a while. He watched jealously as his exhausted girlfriend sank down to her knees in front of me, quivering on the bed.

Lara wrapped her thick brown lips around my member and cleaned me lovingly, moaning and nodding as she stared up into my eyes, easily accepting instruction.

When Cammie could hear again, he helped the gorgeous black woman limp out of my apartment gingerly, unaware that she had a few new ideas about what she wanted in a boyfriend.

Lara loved him very much, of course, so she’d help him adapt.

***

09:55 Friday

I stepped out of my old Ford, looking around the dusty area surrounding the junkyard with interest. It was a pretty beat up old car, but still reliable, and ran reasonably well. I grabbed the spray bottle, and closed the door behind me.

I didn’t see any other cars here, so I was guessing Mr Cage either came on foot or hadn’t arrived yet. I leaned against the hood and waited.

It wasn’t a long wait.

The hulking black man came around the building, a low-lying brick office connected to some sort of workshop, wearing sweatpants and a soaked-through wife-beater tank top, wiping his forehead with a rag. Looked like the guy had actually gotten a workout, which piqued my interest.

He grunted in greeting when he spotted me, waving me over.

“Come on, you might appreciate this.”

Sure, why not.

I followed him into the scrapyard, and he brought me around a few piles of debris until we came to a couple of dilapidated cars, ranging from a midsize sedan to a semi tractor without a trailer.

“Got an old friend who owns the yard, lets me use it when there’s not many folks around.” Luke explained, giving me a knowing look, which sort of confused me.

I’d told him I had powers, but my suggestion at the gym should’ve made him unaware that one of them was enhanced strength. Maybe he just assumed, based on my size.

But I let my puzzlement show, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Damn, son. You didn’t even notice, huh?”

“Notice what?”

“When we shook hands yesterday, I gave you a bit of a squeeze, trying to show you who’s boss. You didn’t even flinch, but I thought you’d at least have noticed.”

I chuckled back. “Sorry. I haven’t really figured out what I can do yet.”

The thing - of course - was that even if he could hurt me, I don’t think he could try to do it intentionally, based on the thing with Jean and the needle. So maybe he misjudged how much squeezing power he put into that grip.

Luke nodded, jerking his head back towards the cars and leading me closer. “Well, then this’ll definitely help. Let’s see what you can do.”

“That one, there -” He pointed towards the sedan, the smallest of the cars, “- is about one point seven tons. They go up in weight class left-to-right. The semi-tractor weighs a full seven point six.” After a pause, he added begrudgingly, “I have some trouble with that one.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. That was very interesting. Hadn’t considered that as a test.

I was still thinking like a normal person, in some aspects.

“Could you demonstrate the grip? Don’t want to accidentally wreck anything.”

Luke chuckled. “Well, they’re already wrecks. You don’t have to be too careful.”

Nonetheless, he did demonstrate, getting a firm grip on the frame underneath the sedan and lifting with his knees first, then chucking it up on top of his chest, before raising it above his head until his arms straightened out.

The back of the sedan dug into the sand of the yard with a slight squeak of deforming metal, but not too much. He’d probably already done most of the damage with earlier lifts.

With admirable control, he brought it down the same way and then stood up to look at me expectantly. Alright, sure.

“Yeah, I’ll give it a try.”

I squatted down like he’d done, and when I thought I’d gotten a good grip, I lifted with my legs. It was… Still easy, still almost effortless. The major difficulty was not digging my fingers into the frame too much, spreading them out to reduce the **** I was exerting on any one place.

I hauled the front of the sedan up to my chest and then over my head in one smooth motion. Held it for a second, then did a controlled descent. Huh.

“Not bad.” Luke admitted, chuckling. “How about that one?”

A midsize truck.

“How much does it weigh?” I asked, but I was already walking over.

“Two point two.”

“Alright.” I rubbed my hands together before squatting down, feeling a sense of excitement at trying to find my limits, despite myself.

I did ten reps with that truck. Barely felt it, but I did feel something. Not just the resistance I’d been experiencing thus far instead of effort, but perhaps actual effort this time.

“Whew.”

“Next one’s two point eight.” Cage prodded, “That gonna be a problem?”

“Hell no. Wait. Am I paying personal trainer rates for this?”

“First one’s a freebie.” He chuckled. “I’m sure my buddy wouldn’t mind you dropping by on your own later, if you want. He’s got some sympathy for people like us. Early morning and evening is the best. This time of day is pushing it, but I had a thing earlier. Just be ready to stop if someone comes by.”

I went through the larger and much larger truck like a human wrecking ball, but I was starting to break a sweat. I went all out when I got to the semi.

At around rep fifty, Luke told me to cut it out because someone just pulled into the parking lot. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, exhilaration bleeding through the blanket of calm.

That felt fucking good.

But it wasn’t anywhere near my limit.

7.6 tons, huh? I could throw that thing. Easily. I knew it.

“Alright. I think I trust you, buddy.” I said. Perhaps I was being overly generous on that front, but he seemed chill enough. Hadn’t tried to jump me either. “But how about we take a drive, and you can tell me what’s bothering you?”

Luke only considered it a moment, before nodding, “Yeah, alright.”

***

12:05 Friday

Enjoying the hot spray of the first shower I’d genuinely needed in a bit, other than to wash off a persistent aroma of sex, I thought about what I’d learned from Luke. There were a hell of a lot of powered folks messing about up in New York City.

He’d gotten the spray bottle, of course. I might think he’s a cool guy, but I wasn’t about to give up on my secrecy and control like that. Plus, he might be useful if shit ever truly hit the fan. I’d just cemented the trust and respect though, made sure he’d have the best interests of me and mine at heart, first and foremost. Loyalty. Didn’t mess with his head too much.

The Avengers had their tower up in NYC, but that was just one of their bases, as far as I knew. Power Girl supposedly set up there, too, had been spotted fighting off that massive ape villain. And the Fantastic Four, of course…

God, that was a lot of godlike powers for one city.

And it still wasn’t all of them. Villains aplenty, that Spider Guy who supposedly operated out of one of the boroughs, and then Hell’s Kitchen and Harlem seemed to be teeming with rogue supers from what Luke told me.

Korman University held one of the nation’s only five Hero Certification Programs under the joint auspices of the PRT and Protectorate. I’m sure SHIELD had some people embedded, too.

Mutants and weirdos all over the place. The PRT headquarters were in Manhattan, though it supposedly housed mainly civilian personnel. Didn’t want to take anything these organizations said at face value.

Luke had gotten into some deep shit, both in Hell’s Kitchen and Harlem, but it was the latter that had **** him to flee the city in a stolen cop car, together with a nurse named Claire Temple.

Accused of murdering some dipshit crime lord named Cottonmouth who’d had a friend of Luke’s killed, then shot nearly to **** by a man that was supposedly his brother, with some sort of Tinker-made bullet designed to work against Brute-style capes.

He’d gone down to Georgia to get his wounds treated the only way he knew how. Eventually they’d decided to go back to the hornet’s nest in NYC and make things right.

And they did, sort of. Luke beat the shit out of his deluded half-brother and managed to prove himself innocent of Cottonmouth’s ****.

Trouble was, his name wasn’t really Luke Cage, and he was still a wanted man, for another crime he didn’t commit. I didn’t doubt that. At this point, Luke couldn’t and wouldn’t lie to me.

Some lowlife former politician and wanna-be crime boss named Mariah Dillard had exposed his real identity to **** him out of her way, and the cops were on him again.

Luke fought his way to freedom and escaped the city once more before a PRT response team could get on-site, this time without the pretty nurse in tow. I could tell by the way he talked about her. He’d had a few old friends down here, and decided it was a good place to lay low.

Seemed a small miracle that he’d gotten out at all, not once, but twice. He’d gotten set up with a bartending gig in the evenings, and the PT gig for the daytime, saving up some money again.

The shit he’d been through settled any qualms I might have had about fucking with SHIELD. Even if you didn’t do anything, you’d get fucked over if you didn’t protect yourself in the world of capes.

I could see the appeal of a city with far less cape trouble, after some time in the Big Apple. Sure, we had some gang activity too, but nothing on that level - not anything that made it to the news, anyway.

NYC sounded like a real hellhole, judging by what he’d gone through, and everything else I’d heard. Corruption and mobsters seeping into every conceivable crack in the fabric of society.

The heroes tried to keep it in check, but there was plenty of collateral damage.

I could help him, of course… But I wasn’t sure if it was worth braving the city myself, just to mindfuck some crime lord who apparently had evidence of his innocence.

I mean, Power Girl was supposed to be there. That was a big ole pair of titties in the Pros column of the score sheet. But everything else felt pretty iffy. Besides, even if I could find her, it felt far from guaranteed that my powers would work on someone like her.

She was an alien, right? Not sure if I could even interface with that sort of biology.

But it did seem to work on mutants just fine. And science experiments like Cage.

Decision, decisions.

***