Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Some Sort of a Hero 5: Damage Control By Mannheim Knot

   >>>>>

   MC, mf, anal, non-sexual violence, supers

   >>>>>

   Clay meets the most dangerous psionic he has ever encountered, and at
the worst possible time.  Jamie is pulled into Clay's Mindwalker life. 
Dinah meets an old hero of hers, but not in a way she expected.  Becky does
something heroic and extremely dangerous.  All of our principals try to
find solace in love.

   >>>>>

   SAME NIGHT--JANUARY, 2001 The tall man sat in the back seat of the limo
and watched the three young people walk into the hospital entrance.  The
boy moved woodenly, and the two girls had to steer him toward the doors. 
After a closer look at the pair of girls the tall man spoke to his driver.
"Diablo, how many of the girls do we have here with us in Lake City?"

   "Just the twins, sir."

   "I damned near wore them out last night.  Another session like that
tonight might kill them.  Let's not do that just yet.  The black-haired one
there is young enough to keep long term.  The blonde is a bit old for my
normal tastes, but quite a beauty.  She might be fun for a one-nighter. 
After we procure the boy, see that the others bring me the two young
lovelies."

   "Not a problem sir.  I'll make sure the boys don't damage them."

   "See to it," the tall man said with a smile.  "Damage is my bit."

   Diablo grunted at the grim joke.  When you worked for a man who used the
alias Damage, most of the jokes you heard were rather grim.  "Be ready to
move quickly in case our team in there has trouble with the boy," Damage
ordered.

   "There's five of them, sir.  Could he really...?"

   "I believe he could if he were on top of his game, Diablo," Damage said,
sounding almost proud of the boy.  "But obviously he's a bit distraught
right now.  Plus, they only need to block him from sensing presences and
not truly defeat him.  They should be able to manage." With that, Damage
fell silent and tuned the radio to a classical music station.  He closed
his eyes and drifted into thought.  They remained like that for over an
hour.  Diablo didn't dare speak.  When Damage went into his own head like
this, he didn't wish to be disturbed.  Apparently, his fantasy life was
very vivid.  And it was almost as profoundly disturbing as the things he
did in his real life.

   Diablo himself had snatched and delivered the twin blonde girls two
years ago.  They had been six then.  Their eyes had been so bright and
innocent when Damage first spotted them and ordered Diablo to bring them to
him.  Now, even though the woman who lived in the house Damage had taken
over bathed and pampered the twins' bodies and faces, and Diablo sang them
soothing songs to get them to sleep, the brightness and innocence of the
twins were gone.  The girls longed for death, but Damage liked to see their
broken spirits reflected in their eyes.  He would prolong the agony of
their existence for a little while longer.  Then, he'd finally get carried
away and break them completely.

   Damage never physically touched them, of course.  He had developed
rather a distaste for contact with human bodies.  It had been five years
since he had touched anyone.  But in their little minds he had raped dozens
of young girls over and over.  Everything he imagined doing to them, they
believed was happening.  They would writhe on the floor and scream in
agony. Sometimes Damage made the boys watch.  Of all the things Damage
forced Diablo to do, this was the one that haunted him the most.  Diablo
had once seen a girl break her own neck when his boss had pictured.... 
Diablo put on his headphones and tried to concentrate on a new Savage
Garden song in order to push the other images from his mind.

   Inside the hospital, Clayton Teller and two beautiful girls wept as they
looked at the motionless but still beautiful body of Rae Teller.  Clay
reached for her mind, her essence, anything that might remain, but he found
nothing.  He cradled her hand in his and lowered his forehead to it.  For
nearly an hour, the two girls held one another and wept while the boy
remained motionless, too grief-stricken to even cry out again.

   The limo and its passengers hadn't moved at all while Clayton Teller
slipped into a state of near shock.  "Walter says they're moving," Damage
announced rather suddenly.  Diablo got out and opened the back door of the
limo for his boss.  The boys piled out of the van parked behind them.  A
security guard happened to be on his rounds and saw them approaching. 
Before he could speak into his handheld radio and call for back-up, the
tall man spoke.  "Your home is on fire.  Your children are burning in their
beds.  Run home, now!"

   The security guard screamed and ran out of the parking lot.  When he
arrived home it took his girlfriend three hours to convince the sobbing,
hysterical man that they had no children, never had.  Terrified that her
burly lover had lost his mind, she packed up her things and fled to her
mother's while the poor man sobbed on the couch.  Damage done.

   The tall man was confident that the unsuspecting adolescent psionic
couldn't possibly be a match for him, but being the cautious sort, he had
taken pains to make sure Clayton Teller was in no condition to fight. 
Causing the fatal accident had been a simple thing for him, and the effort
had paid off well.  Even an amateur like the boy should have sensed a
powerful presence like Damage, but there were others there, dampening the
boy's perception.  He walked right into the hallway where Damage was
waiting for him.  The young fool hadn't even realized he'd been steered
there.  "Sleep, Clayton Teller," the tall man said softly.  There was no
will left in the boy to mount a defense against the command.  Clayton fell
into a heap and slumbered.

   The tall man walked over and inspected him.  The boy was well-built for
his age but really not so handsome that he would be the first boy a girl
would notice in a crowd.  Still, he had come into the hospital with two
exceptionally beautiful girls, one of whom was well out of the age range a
boy like him should have.  And there was a phone number and a heart written
on his hand.  He'd bagged a third this night.  Not particularly impressive
compared to Damage's own exploits, but respectable.  The tall man's brain
filed away the telephone number.  His brain simply did things like that
nowadays.  He'd remember something as simple as a seven-digit sequence for
five years or more after having only seen it once.  "I don't wish to be
caught on security cameras when you drag them out," Damage said quietly. 
"And the other team is pulling out.  Make sure to stick a needle into the
boy's arm when you go to move him.  He'd probably stay under from my
command anyway, but you have to be certain.  If he awakens he will fuck you
up long before you get him back to me." He turned to the four goons behind
him.  "Did you understand all that?" They nodded quickly.  Damage and
Diablo returned to the limo and drove away.

   Two minutes later, a pair of beautiful girls entered the hallway.  "I
can't believe we let him wander off!" Becky said shaking her head.  It had
been almost like some outside force had acted on them and kept them from
noticing his absence.

   "Act normal, Becky," Dinah whispered.  "There are men hiding in the
shadows down there.  And Clay is sleeping on the floor.  As we walk, just
kind of gradually let the distance between us increase.  Pretend you're
looking in doorways for Clay."

   Dinah didn't turn back, but she could tell that Becky was following
instructions.  Soon, she was twenty feet behind.  Dinah launched herself
down the hall.  Becky turned to watch, but in the shadows she could only
see a head of blonde hair bouncing around the hallway for all of three
seconds.  "Clear!" Dinah called.

   Becky raced down and saw three unconscious men and one very, very
uncomfortable one.  Even without superpowers, Becky could tell that Clay
was simply sleeping, not lying unconscious with a concussion.  She turned
her attention to the man grimacing in pain as Dinah held his mouth closed
and cranked his arm into an impossible position.  "What the fuck did you
assholes do?" Becky demanded.  Dinah removed her hand, but the man did not
answer.  Becky began to boil inside.  "She can cause you incredible pain,
but I guarantee you that I will fucking kill you if you don't tell me why
you hurt my friend."

   "Death is no consequence compared to what HE can do to me," the man said
with a groan.

   "Who is HE?" Becky demanded.

   "You'll find out.  He has plans for you," the man said.

   "HE is like--" Dinah started and then stopped.  "HE has psionic powers,
doesn't he?"

   "HE is the god of all minds," the man said, his eyes shining with
admiration.  "You are ants to him."

   Dinah released his arm.  "Dead-ender," she explained to Becky.  "You
could torture him forever and he wouldn't give us anything." Dinah looked
at him and spoke with restrained anger.  "You're going to jail, asshole,
but I'm not going to hurt you anymore.  There's no point." Becky stepped
forward and kicked the man in the face.  When he rolled over from the force
of the blow, she stomped on his balls.  "Apparently, she'll hurt you,
though," Dinah added airily.

   Becky gently roused Clay.  He smiled when he saw her, but then reality
set in, and he started to seem almost catatonic.  "Stay with me, Clay.  We
need you.  Someone like you put you down, and then these four goons tried
to attack us.  They saw Dinah do her tricks."

   Clay nodded.  He gathered his thoughts as best a boy who had just spent
an hour holding his dead mother's hand could.  "Forget what you saw the
blonde do."

   "Does it work when they're unconscious?" Becky asked.

   "They still have a brain, don't they?" Clay snapped.  He looked at his
first love.  "I'm sorry, Becks.  You've been an absolute angel tonight."

   "It's okay, sweetie," she said.

   Clay turned to the conscious one.  "Who sent you?" he asked with the
voice of command.

   "A pitiful push like that isn't going to override HIS command," the man
sneered.

   "Oh, okay, then," Clay said quietly.  He reached down and grabbed the
man by the chin.  "Who is he, and where can I find him?" Clay snarled.  The
pain inside the boy had been channeled into a seething rage.

   "You're tearing my brain apart!" the man screamed.  "Okay!  Okay!  His
name is Damage!" Then the man whimpered.  "Oh, Master, I am weak.  I am
weak."

   "Damage?" Dinah repeated.  "Never heard of him."

   "He strides like a colossus over the earth, but he moves in shadow.  You
have never heard of him because he has not seen fit to let you know of his
presence.  He will tear out your mind, and live in your brain!"

   "He couldn't live in your brain.  It's too small," Becky said.

   "I get it.  Damage Control, or is it Brain Damage?" Clay asked with a
derisive laugh.  Then his eyes grew impossibly hard and cold.  It was clear
that Clay was piecing something together.  "A Colossus?  Tell me about him,
describe him--physically."

   "He dwarfs you, little man."

   "About six-foot-six?" Clayton asked, fearing the answer and all it
meant.

   "Yes, yes.  You've seen the Master?"

   "Only in one old photo," Clayton whispered.  "Where is he?"

   "Everywhere."

   "Where is his corporeal form?" Dinah asked, playing into the man's
psychotic fantasy.

   "The Cartwell Mansion at the end of Old Point Road serves as his temple
in this pitiful town.  Its inhabitants now serve him."

   "Clay, what the hell is going on?  Why do you know this guy?" Becky
asked.

   "Because," Dinah whispered.  She had already felt so much sympathy for
Clayton, but now she realized how deep the horrors in his life had truly
become.  "It's his father."

   "What?" Becky gasped in shock.

   Clay nodded.  "It's my dad, Becky.  This," he tapped his head as he
spoke, "had to come from somewhere."

   Becky was stunned to silence.  Then slowly she turned back toward the
Emergency Room, back toward the place where she had just seen Rae Teller's
body.  A woman's inexplicable death, an attack on her son and the sudden
arrival of her long-absent ex-husband did not all happen by coincidence. 
Rae, the kindest woman Becky had ever known, the center of Clayton's life,
had been murdered.  "I'm going to kill him," Becky whispered.

   "You are going to stay the hell away from him, both of you!" Clay
snapped.  "There's not a damned thing you can do against him except die
horribly." He became quieter.  "I know what people like me can do if we go
bad.  Just...  murder me in my sleep if I turn out that way."

   "I will," Dinah said.  Becky shot her a glare that would have frozen a
lesser woman's blood.  Dinah didn't even bat an eye.

   "He expects me right now," Clay said.  "I'm exhausted.  I have to get my
shit together first.  I'll hit him tomorrow." He turned to Becky.  "Your
mom was serious?  She'll handle the arrangements for Mom?"

   "Of course, Clay."

   "I have to go," he said softly.  He turned to the four men on the floor.
"Tell the cops nothing except that all four of you rigged Danes' car so
that the accelerator stuck.  You did it just for the fuck of it.  It was a
thrill kill."

   He walked out of the hospital and left the two girls standing there. 
Dinah tied the conscious man up with his own belt and shoelaces.  The act
lacked its usual joy for her.  She stood and looked at Becky.

   "The girl who won't kill bad guys would murder Clay in his sleep?" the
black-haired girl hissed.

   "Becky, neither of us can walk into a room when he's sleeping without
him waking up.  It could never happen."

   "Oh, yeah," Becky said softly.  "Sorry." She was quiet for a moment. 
"You could have stopped me."

   "What?"

   "Kicking this asshole in the face, squashing his balls.  You could have
stopped me."

   "No, Becky, you were just too quick for me," Dinah said with a grin that
was as close to devilish as such a pure heart could muster.

   "Dinah, about Clay going alone tomorrow...."

   "I'll be there.  I have to go.  I need to keep guys like this from
shooting Clay while he faces his father."

   "Good.  That's good," Becky said.  Dinah had turned away to tend to the
bad guys, so she didn't see the look that flickered across Becky's face. 
Wheels were turning.  + + +

   Clay finally fell back to sleep about five in the morning.  He slept
until noon.  He was as rested as he was going to get.  He got up and
showered and shaved.  He was going into this battle at least looking like
he was composed and confident.  He pieced some things together.  His dad
must have been a late bloomer.  Love had triggered Clay's adolescent
discovery of his powers.  A cold man might have not figured out what he had
until much later.  Rae said her ex-husband had played "mind games" with her
at the end and then suddenly disappeared.  That was probably when he was
experimenting with his powers and getting a grip on them.  Then, sometime
after that, he'd let the power drive him insane.  Well, maybe not.  Maybe
he'd just let the insanity and cruelty inside himself run free.  Clay knew
where those things were in a man.  All human beings had them.  Clay could
sense them locked deep inside of the people he knew.  And he sensed them in
himself.  He would never let the truly dark urges manifest themselves.  He
had such lust for sex, desire for being popular, satisfaction at seeing
those who angered him in pain.  There were other horrible things in him as
well.  They would all stay caged in the deepest recesses of his soul,
except for one.  Today, he would yield to his rage.  He had to do that. 
Rage was the only thing keeping him on his feet when he wanted curl up in a
ball and sob.

   As he finished shaving, he looked in the mirror.  He saw a Soul Flash.
It was his own face, but he could see right through it.  His soul was
fading.  He was hovering on the edge of losing the things that had made him
a basically decent boy.  Going forward with his plan would push him ever
closer to that edge, maybe even over it.  But what boy could kill his
father and not run that risk?

   Clay took his mother's car from the garage.  He turned off the CD player
cranking out the 80's music she constantly played.  He couldn't take the
time to miss her right now.  His focus was completely on his mission.  Gone
were his thoughts of his gentle mother, and gone were the almost constant
thoughts of Becky and Dinah.  They had more or less become the lens through
which he saw the rest of his life, his Jiminy Cricket in many ways.  He
only ever went so far with his powers.  In part that was because his soul
truly was gentle, but it was also in part because if he did go too far he
could never face those girls or his mom again.  But Clay pushed them all
away from his mind now.  He felt like thinking about them somehow would let
them see what he was going to do.  He didn't want any of them to see him
like he was today.

   Clay was so focused on the rage that was driving him, and so focused on
defending his brain from his father's imminent attacks that he didn't sense
the presence of the red-costumed blonde following him into battle.  Dynamo
was so focused that even her acute senses didn't pick up the Volvo wagon
tailing Clay at the distance of a few blocks.  The Volvo weaved slightly,
and didn't keep much of a steady speed.  The black-haired girl at the wheel
had never driven before, then again, she had never even stolen a couple
bucks from her mom's purse before, much less her whole car.  She only hoped
her mom found the note and didn't call the car in as stolen.  Getting
stopped by the cops right now would ruin everything.  They would find the
thing she had "borrowed" from her dad's locked cabinet.

   Clayton arrived at the Cartwell Mansion and was surprised that his
approach was unchallenged.  He drove right up to the front door and walked
in like an old friend.  Well, he was more than old friend, he guessed.  He
was family.  He walked into the main dining room, really a banquet hall. 
The owners of this place had descended from the original harbormaster of
Lake City.  Their docks were always full, and their cargo vessels traversed
the Great Lakes and even the Atlantic Ocean.  They were practically royalty
in the city.  So perhaps it should have been no surprise to him when he
found that the dining room had been converted to a throne room.  Draped
lazily across the throne was His Royal Highness, King Damage.  "Hello,
Daddy," Clayton spat.

   "Oh, my boy, my boy.  You made me wait for you, naughty, naughty. 
You're grounded."

   "Why?" Clay asked, ignoring the man's obvious desire to match witty
banter.  "What did she ever do to you?"

   "Nothing at all.  Rae was a lovely woman, and quite a mink in the sack.
Did you ever...?"

   "You're fucking sick!"

   "A fine piece of ass like that, and you never once thought about taking
it for a spin?  Tsk-tsk-tsk.  You have to learn to take full advantage of
your powers, son."

   "You're trying to break my focus," Clay said.

   "Oh, my boy.  I've shattered that, wouldn't you say?  How could a heart
as heavy as yours maintain the strength to do battle with me?" Damage sat
up straight and looked directly at him.  Just his focused gaze caused Clay
pain.  "You see, I don't think you can hold up very long running on pain
and grief, Clayton.  I think this fight will be rather one-sided, and that
suits my plans for you.  I don't wish to destroy a talent like yours.  I
wish to nurture it and guide it.  Given proper training, you could be very
useful.  But if you were on top of your game, I might have to crush you in
order to win.  Think about it.  The only one you've ever truly hurt with
your powers was my lieutenant."

   "The blond man," Clay said.

   "Yes, yes.  He was nothing compared to me.  Not even much compared to
you, it seems, but he was useful.  Even I can't be everywhere at once. 
Then I saw this Mindwalker character on TV, and he was just the right
age....  Sure enough, I found my sweet Rae had moved from Cleveland to Lake
City.  The rest is, as they say--"

   Clay had decided to us the villain's monologue as his opportunity.  He'd
directed his strongest blast right at his father's eyes.  The man blinked
for a moment and then calmly concluded his sentence.  "--history." Damage
smiled and leaned forward.  "Too predictable, Clayton.  You need to learn
to attack at angles, to find back doors.  Change the rules of the game and
so on.  Example: You were supposed to be here last night, drugged and ready
for me to do some nice, easy work with surgical precision.  And then I was
going to enjoy a little romp with the two girls keeping you company.  You
blew that plan out of the water.  Good for you.  You got the duel you
desired.  Or did you?" Damage rose from his throne.  "Diablo," he said
quietly.

   A muscular Latino man in an elegant white silk shirt entered the room.
His thirty-something face was remarkably handsome, and a fierce
intelligence shown in his eyes.  He seemed almost like he should have been
the hero in the story, but that was incongruous with the fact that he'd
brought a child with bound wrists into the room.  It seemed to be a girl,
but her head was covered with a pillow case.  Clay tried to sense the
child, but Damage was blocking him.  "Anything else, sir?" Diablo asked.

   "That will be all for now, Diablo.  Keep an eye out for Mindwalker's
mentor, would you?"

   "Yes, sir."

   Damage waited until he and Clay were alone with the child.  Then he
lifted the pillow case from her face.  A beautiful head of red hair
appeared around a lightly freckled face with terrified green eyes.  "Clay?"
the girl gasped when she was able to see him.

   "Silence, child," Damage said.  "This one is such a talker, Clay.  Did
you gag her when you fucked her?  By the way, it really is rather easy to
locate someone whose home phone number was written on your palm."

   "I am so sorry, Jamie," Clay said softly.  A blast of malicious energy
then knocked him on his ass.

   "You took your focus off of me and put it on the girl!" Damage scolded.
"Poor strategy, son.  But as you can see, I have changed the rules of the
game again.  Always make it so the home field advantage is yours."

   Clayton sat on his backside and tried to piece together a way to get
into this man's mind.  But Damage never broke focus, never let Clay's mind
reach out to strike him.  The girl next to him made no difference to Clay's
father, even as she completely turned the game upside-down for the boy. 
Clay couldn't even begin to fathom the rules of this new game.  All he
could see was the terror in the girl who had been so happy the night
before. Damage now seemed to pay the girl no mind at all.  If only she had
Clay's powers.  Clay desperately tried something that was likely far beyond
his capabilities...  but he knew of nothing else to do....

   At that moment, Dynamo was rather busy on the muddy, snow-covered lawn
outside the house.  She had first seen the handsome man waiting patiently
on the porch.  She had no time to trifle with henchmen.  She launched
herself across the lawn and delivered a blow that was more than powerful
enough to break a man's jaw and knock him silly.  She even thought she
might have let her emotions get the best of her and hit him too hard.  The
man grunted slightly, and he took a half-step back.  "Dynamo, nice to meet
you," he said.  "My real name is Hector, but lately I'm called Diablo."

   "A super, huh?" she said.  "Pleasure is all mine.  I meet so few of us."

   "I understand.  Typical men are really not much fun at all, are they?"

   "I don't fight for fun," she said.  Then she grinned slightly,
"Sometimes it is fun when the bad guys cry, though."

   "I remember that," Diablo said somewhat sadly.  "I used to be known as
Angelo Angel."

   "From Houston?  You were top-shelf.  Everyone thought you probably
retired and started a family."

   "I wish," he said.  "No, I got stupid and went after a psionic.  Now,
I'm his bitch.  That going on with you and his son?"

   "No.  Not at all."

   "Oh, I thought maybe....  Well, I'm picking up an extra heartbeat.  A
girl in your condition usually wouldn't fight unless she was compelled.  So
I thought maybe Mindwalker had you under his thrall." He waited for a
reply, but Dynamo stonewalled him.  "So, to take a risk like this without
being controlled, a girl would have to be in love."

   "Hector, don't do this.  Join me.  We can free you."

   "I can't join you until I'm free," he said.  "Until then, I have to
fight you.  If it means anything at all, I won't enjoy it."

   "Neither will I, Hector."

   "I actually hope you win, Dynamo.  Kill me if you can.  It's better than
going back in there and serving that bastard.  Fight hard, Dynamo, but know
this.  Even if you do win, you're not going to be able to save your lover.
You're going to go charging in there, wind up replacing me and having your
child totally controlled by the beast.  Your baby is possibly going to be
more powerful than you, and if the father is who I think it is, then that
baby is definitely going to be something.  Don't go in there and let
Grandpa Damage get his hands on that child." With that, Diablo fell to one
knee and screamed in pain as he clutched his head.  "Came too close to
betraying him there," he grunted.  "It triggered one of his emergency
measures in my brain.  Sorry for this." He launched up from one knee with
an uppercut and nearly caught Dynamo square on the jaw.  She turned just in
time.  The blow only glanced off her chin.  It was still the hardest she'd
ever been hit, but it didn't knock her down.

   "You haven't slowed down," she said and kicked the inside of his knee
with her heel.  He grunted and hunched over slightly, but the fist she
tried to drive into the back of his head never landed.  He had leapt
forward.  Dynamo caught him by the heel and slammed him to the snowy
ground. She brought him fully over her head in a big arc and did it again.

   "Just fucking up the lawn," he grunted.  "Ground won't hurt me much." He
drove a heel into her face and pushed free.  The quips ended, then.

   Human eyes could barely follow the sequence of moves and parries that
ensued.  When Becky James sprinted along the far side of wall at the edge
of the property, she could see only a red blur and a white one.  Once, the
concussion of them colliding actually knocked Becky to her knees.  She
rolled before she fell forward.  She cradled a stolen object in her arms.
She did not want it damaged or dropped into the snow.  Seeing it was safe,
she scrambled back to her feet and headed around behind the house, seeking
a way in that wouldn't take her past the battling supers on the lawn....

   Clay launched his desperate maneuver around the time Becky had fallen.
He did not focus on Damage directly.  The man's defenses were too strong.
Clayton instead searched Jamie's mind and found her fear.  When he found
it, he pushed the all-consuming emotion through her and into Damage. 
Clayton became the rare boy who had managed to find pleasure in hearing his
father scream in abject terror.

   Damage actually turned to run, his mind drowning in Jamie's urge to flee
this place.  He took several steps before he was able to sort out what had
happened.  By that time, the girl had begun to run toward Clay.  "GO!  KEEP
GOING!" Clay ordered her.  She was gone from the room before Clayton's
father could drop her.

   "Clever little bastard," the father said to his son.  "You really are
mine."

   "I'm Mom's son, not yours," Clay said.  He was stalling.  His little
maneuver had cost him a great deal of his strength.  But his resolve was
bolstered by the fact that his father was still trembling.  Jamie's fear
was still kicking around in him.  "You're so little," Clay said.  "You
really don't like the rough stuff.  You could get hurt."

   It was absurd to say this to a man who was eight inches taller than him,
but it worked for a moment.  Jamie was scared of a boy or man who liked to
hurt girls.  She would have been defenseless against it.  She was quite a
tiny girl.  With her fear still kicking around in Damage, the man was taken
aback by the feeling of powerlessness upon which Clay had played.  Clayton
blasted at him directly.  That was an error.

   The hit actually struck its target.  Damage definitely cowered for a
second, but then the villain realized that the blast had not seriously hurt
him.  The ineffectiveness of the attack tethered him back to the reality of
the situation.  He laughed.  "Well, when you think back to this day during
your very long servitude to me, you can at least say you had a moment,
son."

   Clay tried to stall again.  "How?  How did Brian Teller become this? 
How did he become the man who murdered an innocent like Mom?  How could he
make a man he'd never met drive a speeding car into a cement pylon?"

   "They're nothing compared to us, Clay.  They are toys, that's all.  You
like girls, right?  I'll let you have them, Clay.  A new girl every night,
squishing her tight little virgin pussy around your cock.  They'll cry in
agony and beg you for more, because we both know that we can make it so
that the more it hurts the more they want it.  Every girl in the world,
your bitch, Clay, think about that."

   "I have," he whispered.  "But there has to be more to it than just
fucking them, right?"

   "So much more!" Damage beamed.  "So much more!  You can own their little
minds.  You don't even have to touch them to make them feel it.  You can
make them think they've been ravaged when all you've done is look at them
across the food court at the mall.  You can take a girl's little mind in
the palm of your hand and crush it.  You can watch them die for you, my
son. Do you know how it feels to have a five-year-old girl bash her brains
out against a picnic table in a park just because you wanted to watch her
pretty little mother's reaction?" Clay's father smiled at him.  "I do.  And
you will.  The power of a god, Clay.  That's all I'm offering you."

   "What did the mom do?" Clay asked.

   "She didn't try and stall with bullshit games," Brian Teller said,
shaking his head.  "She didn't try to defeat me by pretending she had the
balls to wield our power." The father sighed heavily.  "I've spent enough
time with you now, Clayton.  Sadly, I can see that you don't have it in
you, son.  You're useless to me.  I could have spared Rae and just killed
you directly.  Ah well, water under the bridge.  Goodbye, Clay.  You're a
very decent boy...  how utterly disappointing."

   Clay felt a white flash of pain in his head.  His best defense was in
place, but it was like trying to hold back water with a dam made of paper.
His mental shield was soaking in his father's wave and crumbling as it did
so.  Clay had failed in the end, and he had barely even caused his father
discomfort.  Clay abandoned his rage and hope for revenge.  He gave in to
the one powerful force left in him, his grief.  "M-M-M-O-O-O-M-M!" he
screamed.  It released the same torrent of power his outburst at the party
had the night before.  That had rendered sixty people, including Dinah,
unconscious.  It at least staggered Brian Teller.

   "That fucking hurt!" his father yelled at the boy.  "You hurt me!" He
was raging now.  Little flecks of spit flew out when he spoke.  "Now you
pay for that!"

   Clay rose to his feet and threw the only thing he had left at his
father. Clay found his rage again and channeled it.  Clay imagined it as a
giant fist.  It felt like he had struck an iron plate, but it also felt
like the plate dented.  If Clay had only waited.  Had he learned how to
fight this kind of battle before he had come here, he might have been able
to stand toe-to-toe with this monster.  Another five or six blows could
have caved in that iron plate.  But Clay didn't have five or six more blows
to give.  He had, at best, one more in him.  And his defenses were
completely gone.  At least he'd hurt the fucker before the end....

   Out on the lawn Dynamo realized that she had never been challenged like
this in all her life.  She was throwing everything she had at this man. 
She'd hit him with Rae's car at least half-a-dozen times, and he'd gotten
back up.  Then again, Dynamo had come back swinging after her foe had
repeatedly belted her with an uprooted lamppost.  Diablo was everything
Angelo Angel had been, and fans of their kind had frittered away many, many
hours debating who would win an all-out throwdown between the Girl Wonder
and the Heavenly Hero.

   Truthfully, Dynamo had always figured the older, more experienced man
held an edge over her.  That was why she was surprised to find that she was
slowly but surely winning.  He was her equal in all physical apsects, and
he held the edge in wiliness.  But his will was inferior.  Dynamo thought
maybe it was because she was fighting for love, and he was only doing as
ordered.  But she was beginning to think otherwise.  Some other will was
bolstering hers, giving her not only the courage she had always possessed,
but a ferocity that was new to her.  The will wasn't coming from outside of
her, though.  It wasn't Clay.  The will was coming from inside of her.  And
as she rose once again after being flattened by a cement pylon ripped from
the edge of the driveway, Dynamo heard the unnamed will speaking to her. 
It had formed its thoughts into a voice in Dynamo's mind.  "Fight him,
Mommy.  Daddy needs us!"

   Dynamo launched herself into her mighty opponent.  She lifted him from
the snow-covered lawn and drove him through the second story exterior wall
and two interior walls as well.  Then she bounced up and kicked off the
ceiling, propelling her opponent down into the floor with all her force
driving down on top of him.  They crashed through the upstairs floor and
landed in a heap on the floor of the dining room.  Diablo did not rise. 
Dynamo rose for a moment, and she saw a tall man kneeling over a boy who
resembled him in face, but not in essence.  "Sleep, bitch!" the tall man
said, and Dynamo's eyes closed.  She fell right back on top of Diablo and
did not see the end of the battle.

   Brian Teller returned his focus to the exhausted boy at his feet.  "That
last one should have killed you, boy.  No matter.  This one will." He
focused for the killing blow.  Then two things happened at once.  A strange
little mind touched Damage and distracted him from delivering the blow. 
The new mind wasn't pushing, but pulling.  It was taking things from his
brain.  Damage sought for the source of this attack, but it was hidden
somehow.  Finally, he figured out how Dynamo had smuggled another psionic
mind into the room.  At the same instant, a horrible burning pain racked
Brian Teller's body.  He seemed to have lost a large portion of his liver.

   Clay watched his father jerk wildly, not once or twice, but over and
over.  He seemed to be caught in some wild dance forced upon him by a
sadistic puppeteer.  Each flailing movement caused the towering man pain
and confusion.  Then, Brian Teller's head exploded in a cloud of red
mist....

   Becky James knelt behind the wall at the edge of the property.  She had
been looking for a way inside when she found something better.  Shapes of
people visible through a dining room wall made mostly of windows.  She had
lined up a shot with her father's hunting rifle, and she had nearly fired
once.  But then the clouds had drifted off from overhead, and the afternoon
sun was brighter than the light inside.  She got only a reflection.  She
looked up and waited.  The breeze was coming up, and another bank of clouds
would be there in a moment.

   It seemed to take forever, but the moment came.  The form of a huge man
loomed over a kneeling boy.  Becky's shot was lost again when the man
staggered back.  Clay must have scored some kind of blow.  The boy rose,
but then he was down again.  The man stepped forward, and there was nothing
but glass between him and the girl who loved the boy and who loved the
woman the tall man had murdered.  Then, two figures crashed through the
ceiling and into the room.  Becky lost the shot again.  But the man had
frozen for a moment as he seemed to be searching for something.  Becky
shook as she lined up the shot.  Then, her nerves calmed a bit.  She put
the scope on him.

   Still Becky was no trained killer.  She had only been hunting once or
twice.  And when she had gotten a shot at a deer she had frozen and not
taken it.  Even at thirty yards, this was an uncertain thing.  She aimed
for the head.  Damage was all about the mind.  Becky pulled the trigger
instead of squeezing it.  The bullet struck the man in the middle of his
body.  She ejected the shell and fired again.  She struck his right arm. 
The third hit his right leg.  The fourth, his shoulder.  The fifth shot hit
him in the left temple.  Even from outside the house, Becky could see a big
flash of red.

   Clayton could sense Becky's presence then.  She and Dinah had both come.
He'd been too distraught last night.  His order to remain behind hadn't
taken hold in the minds of the strong girls who wanted too badly to be
there for him.  Clay wasn't certain of everything that had happened in
those final moments.  But he knew that Becky James, the girl who no longer
worshiped heroes had proven that she could still save them.  He collapsed
in exhaustion and grief.  It was done, but now he had time to slip back
into the fugue that had overtaken him before.  Mom was still gone.  His
father had turned out to be a murderous madman, and he was dead, too.  Clay
had no family.

   "It'll be okay," a little voice whispered in his mind.  "You have a
family.  We all love you.  Daddy."

   EARLY FEBRUARY, 2001 Dinah saw the exhausted black-haired girl amble
into the kitchen.  Becky looked like hell, well for her.  In truth she
still looked beautiful as ever, just in a haunted, desperate way that was
miles apart from her usual spirited manner.  "Coffee?" the girl asked. 
Dinah pointed to the coffeemaker next to the toaster.  The girl nodded and
moved to pour herself a cup.  She ignored the cream and sugar and took it
black.  "Ugh!" she grunted as she took a sip.  "This takes like shit."

   "Actually, Becky, Mrs.  Cartwell makes pretty damned good coffee."

   "Oh," the younger girl said with a shrug as she left the coffee on the
counter.  "I guess I don't like coffee, then.  It just kind of felt like
that's what I was supposed to drink when I feel like this."

   "Clay?" Dinah asked as she moved to the fridge to get the girl some
juice.

   "Asleep.  Hector, the twins, Mr.  and Mrs.  Cartwell, all asleep.  Clay
worked on Jamie for a while this morning, and then the rest of them all day
again today, and then he put them under, same as he's done every day except
for the day of Rae's funeral.  It's amazing how much he can heal people,
how much he can fix things."

   "I know," Dinah said.  "I never saw him do that before.  It's made me
revise how I think about some things."

   "Yeah," Becky said, clearly picturing something in her head.  "I've been
looking back at things and seeing them a little differently."

   Dinah nodded, but then she felt concern for the girl in front of her. 
Becky had been going non-stop helping with the funeral arrangements which
had been made all the more complicated by the fact that Damage's henchmen
had stolen Rae's body from the hospital.  After the funeral Becky had been
here at the mansion, trying to help the twins recover from the horrors they
had suffered.  Just like Clay, she'd been taking on too much.  "Aren't you
going to try and get some sleep, sweetie?"

   "I can't," Becky sighed.  "And unlike the rest of them, Clay can't put
me under.  He won't use a push on me anymore.  He took every single push he
ever gave me out of my brain, and now he tries his damnedest to not even
sense my emotions anymore.  To tell the truth, after all the fuss I made
about the pushes, I damned near felt like asking for one when I saw
everyone else sleeping.  But people have needed so much from him lately.  I
didn't want to ask for anything else."

   "Same with me, the no pushes and trying not to sense me stuff, not the
need for sleep.  Since I've been pregnant I sleep a little longer than I
used to, but it's still less than three hours a day."

   "Must be nice.  I haven't slept three hours in a row since, you know,
with Damage."

   "Funny thing with the pushes," Dinah said.  "I'm not even sure he could
put a push on me right now.  I've got a pretty powerful little passenger on
board."

   "I didn't think babies really had much going on in their heads at two
months along," Becky said, stifling a yawn.

   "She's different."

   "She?  For sure?"

   "She's decided that her name's Hannah.  She wants to be a girl, so she
will be."

   "Well, I like being a girl," Becky said, trying to sound like her
chipper self.

   "Me too."

   Becky nodded.  "Of course it's easier being a girl when you can kick all
the boys' asses.  Bet you've never had to be scared to walk home alone at
night or anything."

   "I'm always a little bit scared, Becky.  When I was little, a man
grabbed me.  He wanted to rape me and murder me.  That didn't happen,
but... the fear never goes away."

   "I didn't know.  Did they ever catch the guy?"

   "I killed him.  I was nine, and I didn't even know I had that kind of
power, or any power at all.  I kicked him with all my might, and it
shattered his body.  I've never told anyone that except for Clay, and now
you.  I think after what you had to do to save us, you needed to know you
aren't the only one who's been there.  Me, you, some of the cops, we've all
had to take a life."

   "I hate it, Dinah."

   "You wouldn't be you if you didn't hate it," she said.  "And it's
something that's always going to be there.  That man not only gave me
terrifying nightmares for the last eleven years, I still feel guilty for
killing him."

   Becky stared straight ahead for a little while.  Then she exhaled
heavily.  "So," she said, "I have THAT to look forward to."

   "It isn't always as bad as it feels right now.  It will just become
something that pops up every once in a while.  Honestly, Becky, I think
you're stronger than me in a lot of ways.  You might just handle it better.
I really mean that."

   "Thanks.  Dinah?"

   "Yeah?"

   "You know I don't hate you anymore, right?"

   "I'm glad.  And I never hated you, Becky, but then again you've never
let me down like I did to you."

   "That was unfair of me," Becky said.  "I thought you were more than
human.  You're just a girl, just like the rest of us.  A ridiculously
beautiful, super-powered girl, but still just a girl."

   "You're kind of amazing, Becky."

   "I know."

   "Pretty, too."

   "Yeah.  I knew that, too." They both laughed and then for just a moment,
they touched hands.  There was no electricity there, but there was comfort
and affection.

   Dinah tilted her head a little.  Her attention seemed to be somewhere
else.  "Clay's having another nightmare," she said sadly.

   "Can you hear him thrashing around or something?"

   "No," Dinah said and touched her belly.  "Somebody told me." When Dinah
spoke again, Becky said the same words in unison.  "I should go to him."

   "Fine pair of ex-girlfriends we turned out to be for him," Becky said.
"We're around him all the time."

   "We both still love him, Becks." Dinah had never called her that before.
That was what Clay called her.

   Becky accepted the familiar address from her.  Hell, nobody else on
earth could even come as close as Dinah did to understanding Becky's life.
They both loved Clay.  They both knew what it was to be forced to kill an
evil man who would have killed them.  And at this moment, they both missed
Rae Teller nearly as badly as Clay did.  Becky offered Dinah her hand. 
Dinah rose and reached for Becky, but then suddenly brought her own hand to
her belly.  She froze as if listening for a second and then sat back in the
chair.  "You just go ahead, sweetie," Dinah said.  "We don't want to
smother him."

   "But..."

   "Becky, isn't it time you told him?"

   "How did you...?" Becky started to ask and then looked at Dinah's belly.
"Jesus, she really is something."

   "She really is," Dinah said.  "Even if she does need to learn what
boundaries are," she scolded slightly.  Dinah then did that thing where she
listened to the voice inside again.  "It's okay, Hannah," she whispered. 
"You'll learn."

   Becky probably should have been astonished, but she wasn't.  There was
no such thing as normal in her life.  There were times she missed the
mundane world, but they were becoming increasingly rare.  She had come to
learn that super-powered people really were just people.  They had to play
by different rules sometimes, but they had the same feelings as anyone. 
Becky was smart, but she was mainly a creature of the heart, of feelings.
She could relate to the supers on that level now, and that made all of it
work for her.  She headed up to Clay's room.

   Clay was tossing and turning in bed, and when he sensed that Becky had
entered the room, he sat bolt upright and froze her.  She couldn't make her
muscles work.  He realized then that the danger had only existed in the
dream.  "Sorry," he said, feeling ashamed to have used power on her. 
"There were bad men in my dream.  I was just protecting you."

   "I know, Clay," Becky said.  "You can let go now, honey."

   "Oh, yeah, sorry." He let her go, prepared to face her cold look for his
having violated her freedom.  What he had to face instead was being quickly
encircled by a pair of loving arms.  "How do I rate this?" he asked.

   "Seemed like you needed it," she said.  She rested her head on his
shoulder.  "And I don't accept your apology, because you didn't do anything
wrong." They just sat like that for a while, holding onto one another. 
"Clay, thanks for taking all the pushes out of my head."

   "They never should have been there," he muttered.

   "No, probably not," she said.  "Although the one about protecting
Dinah's secret identity was pretty sensible at the time.  We've kissed and
made up by the way, without the kissing part."

   "If you do that part, let me know," Clay said.  "I'm sure the Cartwell's
have a video camera somewhere in the mansion."

   "Oh, thank god!" Becky whispered.  It seemed to Clay to have come from
nowhere.

   "What?"

   "We're back to the place where you feel like you can make jokes like
that, and where I think they're kind of funny.  I mean, not as funny as it
would be to watch your face as Dinah and I swapped hungry tongues and let
our hands run free over one another's haunches as our breasts were mashed
together by the force of our desperate, longing embrace."

   "Yeah," he said, his breath a little labored, "I might have a bit of a
shocked expression if I saw that."

   "You know," Becky continued her tease, "as powerful as Dinah is, I still
think I'd be the aggressive one.  I'd pin her down beneath me and start to
grind on her."

   "You are killing me!"

   "Well, I'm trying," she said with a laugh.  "But I'm going to back off
for a minute.  We need to talk."

   "Uh-oh!  What'd I do?"

   "Nothing," she said making it obvious that she was talking about more
than just the last few days.  "You never did anything bad, Clay.  Well, not
really bad.  And most of the time you've been the sweetest boy in the
world. I missed being your friend, and since you've taken the pushes out of
me, and I know for a fact that all of my thoughts are my own, I can say for
certain that I miss being your lover, too."

   "Becks, you mean we could be together again?"

   "I don't want to be your girlfriend, Clay.  I've got so much going on in
my world that I don't want to be anyone's girlfriend right now.  But I miss
making love.  And I'm not the kind of girl who's going to go jump some guy
just to get laid.  I kind of put my heart into it, and I can only do it
with a guy I really care about and who really cares about me.  That kind of
leaves you and...  well, it just leaves you." She kissed him then, and it
felt very, very good to Clay.  There was no doubt, no hesitation in Becky,
and for the first time ever, there wasn't the slightest bit of guilt in
Clay.  She was accepting him for what he was, loving him for what he was,
and he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary to make her feel that way.

   "Let's slow down for a second," she said and gave him a playful little
tap on the nose.  "I want to talk to you about pushes before we start
this."

   "I won't use any, I swear."

   "Not so fast," she said.  "I figured out that you used pushes sometimes
to make our lovemaking a little more intense and up how much pleasure I
felt."

   "Yeah?" he asked nervously.

   "I'm not a stupid girl, Clay.  Asking you to not do that would be like
having a boyfriend with a ten-inch cock and telling him he could only use
five."

   "Damn, you talk dirty these days, Becks.  I--I kind of like it."

   "Clay, I've lost a lot of my innocence in the last several months.  I
never really lost any of it when I was just making love to you all the
time, because it was always sweet and innocent between us.  But once you
were with that skank Melanie, I started thinking about how you were
probably doing really dirty stuff with her.  Don't interrupt, and don't
apologize," she said when he opened his mouth.  "I hated that you were
doing that with her, but it made me think about what dirty sex would be
like.  At first I thought it was kind of creepy, but then I realized that a
lot of people do it.  So, I kind of imagined doing it, and it turned out
that I liked what I was imagining."

   "You did?"

   "But then I started thinking maybe that was all some kind of leftover
from you messing in my head.  So, I fought against it.  I buried it until a
week ago when you took the pushes out.  Then, I knew every thought I had
was my own.  Clay, I know we both need love and comfort right now, but
there's also something in all this care and concern that makes us feel kind
of sad.  I need a break from all of us hugging one another and touching
each other on the shoulder or hand and giving meaningful looks of support.
I just want to do something sexy and crazy and dirty, and there's only one
person I want to do that with."

   "Um," he said hesitantly, "you're sure about this, right?"

   She grabbed his chin with her hand.  "Clay, I know I want this, and I
know I can only be that way with you.  There's only one thing I'm not sure
about."

   "What's that, baby?"

   "I'm not sure how to do it!  I never....  Clay, teach me how to be like
that.  I know you know how."

   "Well, it starts with wanting to be that way, and you have that.  I
think the next step would be the way you start to think about it and talk
about it.  You're getting there."

   "Clay, I want you to fuck me with your big fat cock," she said in a
voice dripping with desire.  "How's that?"

   "Pretty good, little angel.  Pretty damned good."

   "I'm not your angel, Clay," she said as she dramatically pulled her
shirt off over her head.  "I'm your crazy little slut." She opened her bra
then and shook her breasts at him.  Clay's head reeled.  This was something
he'd dreamt about, his sweet Becky showing a wild side.  And had she just
called herself a slut?  Clay had called Melanie that so many times, and she
had called herself that at least as many.  But that worked because she
really was cheap in how she gave herself up to try and manipulate him.  But
Clay hadn't liked it when Jamie had called herself that.  Jamie was
naughty, but she was so sweet and full of life.  And there had seemed like
there was some danger of Jamie actually believing she was a cheap little
thing.  So, he had dubbed her a goddess instead.  Now, his beloved Becky
was calling herself a slut and Clay was finding that he didn't mind it. 
Becky knew she was a good girl with everyone except him.  She was popular
and well-respected and talented in many ways, and she knew that.  She had
the confidence to say or do almost anything with him and then get out of
bed and be the same person she had been when she'd crawled into it.

   "I missed those gorgeous tits," Clay said and leaned in to kiss them. 
Becky went right to her back and held his head tight to her chest as she
did it.  Clay pulled the sheet down and kicked it away with her help.

   "Shit that feels good, Clay.  I have been so horny for months."

   "Oh my beautiful little slut," he said, deciding at last he was
comfortable with the word, and many others.  "I love you so much, and I am
going to make you feel so good."

   She let him stay at her breasts and brought her hands down to the
waistband of the sweatpants she wore around the house.  She knew that she
wouldn't have to help Clay out of any clothes.  He'd been sleeping in the
nude since shortly after he and Becky first starting going together.  "Is
that all you've ever wanted to do to my tits, Clay?" she asked in a teasing
voice.  "Now's the time, baby."

   Clay straddled her chest and brought his cock up between her breasts. 
They were bigger than the orange-sized breasts she'd had a year-and-half
ago.  They weren't huge, but they were full enough that when he squeezed
them to his cock he got contact all around it.  "I have always wanted to do
this!" he declared happily.  Her breasts were warm and firm, and so
incredibly beautiful.  A couple of the girls in their class had caught up
to her in cup size, but Becky had been the first to really blossom, and his
fascination with her breasts had long been part of her allure.  Now, he was
fucking them, and she was being more than just a little enthusiastic about
having it done.

   "Fuck `em, Clay!  Fuck my dirty little tits!" Becky had usually been
joking or teasing when she had talked dirty in front of Clay before, but
when he allowed himself to once again sense her emotions, he got an
altogether different vibe from her.  She was determined that she was going
to figure out how to become the ravenous slut she had said she wanted to
become tonight.  Clay wasn't disguising the fact that he was in her head.
He actually made a conscious effort to let her know.  "Fuck that, too," she
whispered.  "Find the dirtiest part of my brain and fuck it hard."

   Clay had never been so open about pushing pleasure into anyone but
Melanie.  With her he'd wanted her to know how much control he had over
her. But now, he let Becky feel his push slowly crawling closer to the
pleasure center of her brain.  He could hear her breathing become rapid in
anticipation.  He stopped just shy of it and held there for a moment. 
"Want it?" he asked.

   "Oh God, please!"

   "Are you sure?"

   "You fucker, push the button!"

   Clay hadn't envisioned it as a button before, but now he did.  He
hesitated a few more seconds and then whispered, "I love you, Becks,"
before he pushed it.  He gave her a good jolt, and unlike the pushes he'd
been giving before, pushes that gave girls the mere idea that they were
experiencing ecstasy, this one stimulated the brain directly.  He'd learned
a lot from undoing some of his father's work.  The tricks he'd learned were
neither good nor evil.  They were just tools.  But they were damned
effective ones.

   "OHHHHHHH!  FUCK!" Becky cried and arched her whole body so quickly and
so hard that she sent Clay toppling forward onto his face.  He slid clear
of her and turned to watch her writhe and groan in tremendous pleasure. 
"Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!" she said softly over and over as she caught her
breath.  "Came really hard," she panted.  She lay still for a moment, and
Clay thought that perhaps he had overdone it.  He knew he hadn't hurt her,
but he might have pushed her far enough that they'd need a break before she
could continue.  He reached out to stroke her hair gently as a way of
calming her.  She grabbed his wrist and used it to roll herself over and
crawl up on top of him.  "That was incredible," she said in a slightly
huskier voice than normal.  "I should have done this with you a long time
ago."

   "Becky," Clay teased, "you seem a little bit horny."

   "I need this so much, Clay," she whispered in her normal voice.  "I need
to be bad!"

   "You know what happens to bad girls, Becks."

   "They have all the fun?" she asked.  She had so much hunger in her eyes,
but there was a flicker of something else, too.  Clay had felt it when
Becky had passed by Melanie at Courtney's party.  There was some real
resentment and anger beneath everything else.

   "No," Clay said, more sure of himself than he'd been a few seconds ago.
"They get this!" He pushed a command into her, a type of command he'd never
used on her.  He made her assume a physical position.  Becky's eyes grew
wide as she found herself turning to drape her naked form across Clay's
lap. She trembled for a second, and then yelped when his hand came down
hard on her tight backside.

   "Ohhhhh!" she moaned as he pushed a tiny sliver of pleasure into her
brain at the exact second the smack fell on her ass.

   "So, you want to be a dirty slut, huh?" he asked as he gave her another
spank and another small portion of pleasure.  He didn't want to overdo the
pleasure, because it might completely obliterate the sting of the spank.

   "I can't help it," she whimpered.  "I have to be this way!"

   He gave another of his special spanks, but this time he ran his hand
between her legs and touched her wet pussy first.  "You want to be the
dirtiest I ever had, right?"

   "Yes!" she moaned.  "Oh god, yes!"

   "Dirtier than anyone ever?" he asked as he gave her another smack and
didn't add anything else to it.  She stuck her bottom up at him and wiggled
it for a second, asking for another.  "Answer the question, Becks."

   "Yes, I can be dirtier than her!  I can do anything better than that
skank, because I love you and she never did!"

   Clay gave her another shot.  "Say it all, baby girl."

   "She used you!  She tried to manipulate you!  No one does that to my
boy! Never ever let them use you, Clay," she said, tears in her eyes.  "I
will give you anything they ever could, just don't let them turn you into
an asshole like you were becoming."

   Clay let her move so that she could sit up.  "I was kind of a shithead
for a while, wasn't I?" he asked when she turned to face him.

   "I still loved you."

   "I loved you, too."

   "Good.  Now one more thing, Clay."

   "Yes?"

   "Don't turn into a sweetheart right now and wreck this.  This is fucking
great!" She flopped back across his lap and wiggled her bottom at him
again. Well, she wanted everything Melanie had gotten.  Clay stuck his
finger up her ass.

   "That is so fucking nasty!" she said.  "Are you pushing pleasure into me
right now?"

   "No."

   "COOL!  I really do like this shit!"

   "Then fuck my finger with your ass like a greedy little slut should," he
said.

   Becky's ferocity had diminished, but her energy level hadn't ebbed at
all.  She bucked her spank-reddened ass up at his finger over and over, and
moaned and groaned the whole time.  Clay felt the incredibly tight little
opening squeeze his finger like a fist, but Becky never slowed.  He pulled
out because he thought she was probably going to sprain his finger. 
"OHHHH!" she groaned in frustration.

   "I need to fuck your pussy right now, little slut," he said playing the
role of the master.  "If you do a decent job of it, you might get something
bigger than a finger in that horny little ass of yours."

   "I won't let you down, Clay," she said softly.

   "On your knees, head down, ass up," he said.  She assumed the position.
He ran his cock up and down the length of her slit a few times.  She
shivered and cooed softly.  "I have always loved your pussy, Becky James,"
he said.  "Tight and hot and wet.  But I never really realized how horny
and greedy it is.  Don't you think so?"

   "My pussy is horny and greedy for you," she said.

   "Well, then maybe you should beg me to fuck it."

   "Please, Clay, fuck my tight, hot, horny and greedy little pussy."

   "You forgot `wet'."

   "Please, Clay, my pussy is wet for you."

   "Becky James, you really ARE the dirtiest little slut I have ever
known," he said.

   "Told you!" she groaned as he slid his cock into her.  He pushed in with
a steady and smooth stroke.  He'd definitely done this position with her a
few times, but it had always been playful and gentle experimentation.  Now,
they were more certain of what they were doing, and it wasn't merely
playful.  It was lusty and passionate.  The two thirteen-year-old kids were
about to fuck like wild animals, and they both knew it.  Clay reached under
her and grabbed her right breast.  He had never tried that from here
before. He stayed buried in her as he felt the firmness of her breast.  He
was trying to distract himself from the urge to begin driving in and out of
her.  She wiggled her hips and tried to get him to move.  He fought the
urge for as long as he could.  Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore than
she could.  He pulled back and then let his hips begin to fly.

   Becky sighed with relief for a second, but that feeling was soon swept
away by the sensations of his passionate, furious fucking of her cunt.  She
was actually beginning to think of it that way.  Hell, in the beginning she
could hardly say "pussy." Now, she was thinking "cunt." Over the last year,
she'd come to use all the other words in joking around and teasing, but she
had never been able to use that last word.  Now, it sat in her brain until
it forced its way out of her mouth.  "Fuck me, Clay!  Pound my little
cunt!"

   Clay had felt her brief struggle, and wasn't sure what it was she was
wrestling with.  Now he understood.  One by one, all her barriers were
falling away.  "Such a filthy, filthy little girl," he whispered as he
leaned down by her ear.  "What else am I going to do tonight?"

   "You're going to fuck my virgin asshole," she said, already knowing that
it was coming, wanting it happen, but never before stringing together a
series of words like that.  Clay disguised his push of pleasure into her at
that moment.  She'd already felt good from the fucking, but he wanted to
give her something for getting past that hurdle.  "Oh!  You're going to
fuck it hard," she added.

   Clay could feel that he was going to cum soon, and normally he would
have loved to just release it deep inside of her and then hold her in his
arms.  But he knew Becky wanted to prove something to herself tonight. 
Maybe she wanted to prove it to him, too.  She did want him to realize that
he didn't have to turn to horrible girls to unleash the filthy side of his
libido.  So, he did something else he'd never done with Becky.  He pulled
out short of finishing, flipped her onto her back, straddled her chest and
led her hands to his cock.  She gave three or four quick pulls with her
warm, soft hands and then he let his load fly into her face.  String after
string of it, splashed onto her cheeks and into her hair.  He reached down
and gently flicked a glob off her brow before it ran into her eye.  "You're
quite a mess, little girl," he said.  Then he kissed her on the lips. 
"Would you like me to make you cum again?"

   "Please," she whispered.

   Clay slid down between her legs and buried his face in her pussy.  He
loved performing this act for girls, and normally made it last a long time,
but he had to admit he was far more eager to get into Becky's backside than
he was letting on.  He gave her a few gentle licks and then lightly bit
down on her clit.  With that, he pushed the button, but not quite as hard
as he had the first time.  Sweet little Becky still came undone.  Her mind
was so deep into this now that even the lighter push sent her into an
extremely hard orgasm.  She screamed and tore at the sheets with her
artistically gifted hands.  She clamped her knees into Clay's side so hard
that she knocked the breath out of him.  When he could, he rose up and
knelt, looking down at her as she brought her body back under her control.
She caught her breath and then smiled.  It was a serene look, eyes closed,
lips curled gently upwards.  "Thanks," she whispered.

   She stayed like that for a minute or so.  He could tell that her body
was ready to keep going, but her mind was still feeling the afterglow of
the moment.  He gave her that.  Hell, it worked out fine for him anyway. 
He moved to the nightstand and got out the tube of lubricant.  When Dinah
had made a run to his house for clothes and things, she had brought the
lube with her.  "You never know when you might need it," Dinah had said
with a shrug.  She knew too much of what was going on lately.  Clay knew
the baby was helping her with that.  So, Clay used the moment of Becky's
afterglow to lube his cock and gently stroke himself back to life as he
looked at Becky's beautiful face and the gorgeous female form covered with
a sheen of sweat.

   When she opened her eyes and began to speak again, he grabbed her behind
both knees and brought them up.  He'd taken her virginity in a very similar
position, but this time he shifted his hands to her hips and tilted her so
that her bottom was facing right up at him.  "I didn't realize you could...
do that this way," she said in her shy Becky voice.  "It's kind of like the
way we made love the first time."

   "I remember," he said.

   "And this is my first time doing this!" she said brightly as he firmly
pushed a lubed finger into her ass.  She had been sentimental for a moment,
but now she was enjoying her newfound freedom to be as dirty as she wanted
to be.  "God, Clay, you even make butt-fucking special!" She moved her hips
to allow his slippery finger deeper inside of her.  "Do it," she moaned,
"and don't be too gentle.  I can take anything!"

   He slowly began to work the head of his cock into her opening.  "Such a
sweet little ass!" he cried.  "God, what a fuck this is going to be!"

   "It hurts some, but don't stop, Clay.  I want it."

   He finally got past the outer ring of muscle and got his cock seated in
her.  He pulled her hips up close.  He'd been kind of careless about
whether or not he slipped out when he did this to Melanie, but he wanted to
make sure he stayed in as best he could with Becky.  He wanted to fuck her
ass hard, but he didn't have any desire to bang the hell out of her hole.
"I'm in," he said.  "Play with your cunt as much as you can while I do it."

   "That is not going to be a problem!" she groaned.  "I like playing with
my hot, tight, wet, horny, greedy cunt." Clay had been amazed by a few of
the things she'd done this night, but he thought getting that whole
sentence out while he was sliding his cock the rest of the way into her ass
might have been the most unlikely of them all.

   Clay found he was in the way he wanted to be, and he began to take her
without babying her.  She was the second girl that he really cared for who
had warned him against taking it too easy.  Both Jamie and Becky had now
said nearly the same thing.  Maybe he needed to re-evaluate his style with
nice, normal girls.  Maybe he could go as hard as he wanted to a little
more often with girls like Jamie and Becky.  With Dinah, well, he hadn't
exactly ever been worried about hurting Dinah.

   He had banged away on Melanie like this many times, but there had always
been an undercurrent of disrespect to that.  It was just a very vivid
reminder to both of them that she had sold out her body for his mind.  But
with Becky it was different.  This was just about two people who loved each
other doing whatever they could do get "dirty" pleasure.  And there was
certainly plenty of that.  Clay was infinitely pleased with having a
beautiful girl's tight ass wrapped around his cock.  And while Becky was
mostly grunting and groaning and grimacing instead of grinning, Clay could
sense the joy on her end, or in it.

   The black-haired sweetheart hadn't been lying to herself or Clay when
she'd said she really wanted to have dirty sex.  In the past Clay had
always been able to sense hesitation or guilt in her when she got a little
naughty.  Her attitude tonight was rather new, but she was still a young
girl, and she was growing and changing in her mind and heart as well as
body.  She had her ass almost straight up over her head with a boy shoving
his cock into it, and there was simply no feeling of regret coming out of
her.

   Her vise-like channel gripped and pulled at Clay's cock.  He growled and
let loose a little of the natural fierceness that seems to come out of boys
when they have their cock in a pretty girl's tight ass.  Yes, there was
great physical pleasure in fucking a beautiful girl this way, but so much
of the thrill came from the raw emotion of the act.  And having a girl as
sweet and strong as Becky let him explore "the final frontier" made Clay
feel very powerful.  No matter how much you loved a girl, no matter how
much you respected her, when you took her up the ass you were owning her.
"Fucking tight ass, bitch.  You love this cock in your sweet little ass,
don't you?"

   Becky nodded in reply, but stayed focused on the physical sensations. 
Then she moaned with pleasure he hadn't pushed into her.  Clay had assumed
that there was no way she was going to climax during this unless he helped,
but as he drove into her over and over, he began to realize that her
efforts with her fingers were very effective.  And, she was incredibly
turned on to be finally so free with her body.  Sweet little Becky was
reveling in being filthy, and it was definitely jacking up her pleasure. 
Apparently, she knew how to push her own mental button pretty well, too. 
"Feeling good?" he grunted.

   "Hits something--down inside--feels real good," she panted. 
"Plus--talented fingers!" she added and waved for a second.  But then she
went right back to work.  She wanted this naturally, it seemed.  In a few
more seconds, she got it.  It was a different climax from the ones Clay had
seen from her in the past.  It was a quick moan and then a short shudder
through her whole body.  It was over in just a few seconds, and she was in
no position to go limp and bask in the afterglow.  Her muscles did relax a
bit though.  Clay found her suddenly far easier to penetrate.  He picked up
the pace and found he could really hammer in and out of her now.  It was
still tight, but there was no struggle, no attempt by her body's instincts
to repel him.

   With the newfound freedom of movement, Clay knew he would finish
quickly. As great as it was, he knew she couldn't keep it up for much
longer without suffering a little.  So, he didn't hold back.  Becky could
read his body language, and she knew he was close.  "Hit the--button.  I
can--take it," she managed to utter between breaths.  Clay was so close
that he had to reach into her mind quickly, and he hit her button pretty
hard.  "YEEEEEEEEEEE!" she screamed, and then shook frantically for several
seconds.  Clay felt his load racing down his shaft and firing deep into her
backside.  Time and again, he twitched and jerked as he emptied himself
into her.  His head reeled for several seconds, and he was giddy with
pleasure and the aftereffects of release.  Then reality crept back in.  He
had been going hard for a while, and his muscles were crying for mercy.

   He flopped down next to her as she shook and trembled.  Her pleasure
center was too overloaded from the last hard push.  After a few more
seconds of twitching, she passed out.  Clay took her in his arms and spoke
softly to her.  "You were magnificent.  You're a little past where you
would normally go, just let your body rest for a bit.  You're okay.  You're
beautiful and loved and okay." He held her for several minutes, and she
didn't move other than occasionally having a leg muscle straighten out and
then relax.  Clay wasn't worried at all.  He'd taken Melanie past this
point on occasion, and her mind and spirit were really no match for
Becky's. He waited silently and stroked her shiny black hair until she
finally began to stir.

   "Did I pass out?" she asked in a whisper.

   "For a few minutes," he said.  "It happens when--"

   "That was fucking awesome!" she cried.  "More?"

   "No, honey.  More would be too much."

   "Yeah, I guess you're right.  I'm not really thinking too straight right
now.  We got really buzzed on Hard Lemonade when I stayed at my cousin's
last summer.  It kind of feels tingly like that, but my stomach isn't as
rumbly."

   "No hangover tomorrow, either."

   "Just a really sore ass," she said and giggled.  "Totally worth it!"

   "I love you, Becks."

   "Oh, I love you too, Clayton Teller.  And I LOVED what you did with my
brain just now." She rolled over from the spoon position and kissed him. 
"So, still think nice girls can't be as dirty as skanks?"

   "I never said that!"

   "I didn't say you said it.  I said you thought it.  Admit it, and I'll
kiss you again."

   "Your kisses are more powerful than my pushes," he said.  "I'd say
anything for one of them."

   "Admit it, Clay."

   "Alright.  I didn't realize that sweet girls can get as dirty as girls
like Melanie."

   She kissed him before she spoke.  "Well, I can.  And I bet I'm a long
ways from being the only nice girl who can.  Maybe it's not as easy to get
us to do it, but we sure can, and I think a guy with a special sort of
charm could get lots of sweet girls to do it."

   "You talk like you want me to go find girls to sleep with."

   She took a deep breath.  He could sense the conflict in her.  "Clay, I'm
thirteen.  If you and I started going steady right now, I would never, ever
give you up.  But the fact of the matter is that I don't WANT to have been
your girl from the time I was eleven until the day we got married.  I don't
mind the crazy super-hero life at all.  I can see now that in most of the
ways that count it's just like everyone else's life.  I could see maybe...
if it's what you want...  sharing that world with you for the rest of my
life someday."

   "I dream about that.  A lot."

   "Yeah, me too, Clay.  But I want to have a life of my own.  You're some
sort of hero.  We both know that now.  That's where you're going to end up
someday.  And I really can live with that.  But I can't just make my life
about following you.  I need to make my own life and see what I'm going to
be.  Then, when I've made some of my dreams come true...  then, maybe we'll
have a talk about building lifelong dreams together."

   "And in the meantime?"

   "Well, given what I'm coming to understand about boys, if I was a
teenage guy who could push pretty girl's minds I think I know what I would
do!"

   "You really think I should?"

   "Well, Dinah and I had a talk one day about your whole `making them
horny' push just being part of your charm.  I was just like her.  I thought
it was bullshit when I first heard it.  But after a while, I kind of saw
the comparison.  Everybody tries to make the opposite sex horny.  You're
just good at it.  And you can make sure they feel good afterwards.  That's
what you did with Jamie, right?"

   "Yeah, and it was pretty awesome.  We were both happy, until...."

   "Yeah," Becky whispered.  "How's Jamie doing now?"

   "She's great.  She wants to...  she's kind of keeping her distance from
me now that our last session is done...  she just...with my dad and all. 
But she doesn't hate me or anything, and she says she doesn't have any
doubts about guys or dating or anything.  She's free and clear."

   "Good." Becky kissed him on the end of the nose and then got out of bed.
"Gosh, kid, you been swell, but I got what I wanted out of this so I'm
going to hit the road.  I'll call real soon."

   "They always say they're going to call," he sniffed.

   She knelt back on the bed and leaned down to kiss him passionately. 
"Clay, even if I wasn't in love with you, I'd be an idiot not to come get
some more of what we had tonight.  And, I'd be an idiot not to come and
make sweet love like we used to do, too.  That works two ways.  You can
always call me."

   She got back out of bed and found her clothes.  She got dressed and
turned and smiled at him.  "You're still the prettiest and sweetest girl in
our class," he said.

   "And you're still the sweetest guy.  You're just even sexier than you
used to be." With that she walked out and walked downstairs.  Dinah was
still in the kitchen.  Becky noticed that she was talking to her belly
again.  "Hi, Dinah," she said.

   Dinah looked up at Becky, and Becky was surprised to see that Dinah was
struggling with something.  Her eyes were watering, and her lips were
twitching.  Before Becky could ask what it was, Dinah burst out laughing
and put her head down on the table.  She couldn't stop giggling.

   Becky thought the superheroine had gone mad, but then she realized what
had sent her into hysterics.  "Oh shit," Becky whispered.  "Super hearing!"

   "Push the button, Clay!" Dinah cried and then buried her face on the
table again.  She held up her hand to let Becky know that she was genuinely
trying to get the giggles under control.

   "Jesus, that was incredible, though," Becky said, shaking her head and
smiling.

   "It sure sounded like it was." Dinah sighed and sat back in her chair.
"Your juice is sitting right in the fridge."

   "Thanks." She got the glass and stood leaning on the fridge and smiling.

   "So, when are you leaving us?" Dinah asked.

   "I never said I was leaving here," Becky said.

   "I know, sweetie.  When are you leaving?"

   "As soon as Clay gets the twins ready to go home.  I kind of feel like I
can still help them quite a bit.  I play with them and stuff.  I just want
to make sure their bit is finished before I go."

   "Your mission?" Dinah asked.

   "For now," Becky said.  "Then...  well, there's a lot of things I can
find to do with my life.  School, for one thing.  That'll be a good start."

   "Yeah.  I always liked school.  I had to drop everything this semester,
but I'm going back next fall."

   "Clay's going to be okay, isn't he?" Becky asked.

   "Hannah says so, and I think she can actually read even his mind," Dinah
said as she placed her hand on her bump.  "Damn!  I have to pee again!" she
said and got up to go.  She stopped and turned back to Becky.  "Um, are you
sure that Hector was asleep for the night?"

   "Yes, Dinah.  You'll have to wait until morning to see him."

   "Say, you don't think Clay would be mad if Hector and I...?  Hannah
doesn't think so, but she doesn't always know everything."

   "I can't see Clay getting mad about two nice people starting to like one
another, even if one of them is his Baby Mama."

   "Yeah," Dinah said.  "Jealousy isn't really one of his faults."

   "But he has so many others to make up for it, right?" Becky joked.

   "Not so many anymore," Dinah said with a sentimental smile.  "Goodnight,
Becks."

   "Goodnight, Dinah." Becky swallowed the rest of her juice in a single
gulp.  She washed the glass and put it in the dry rack.  She felt a sudden
urge, one she hadn't felt much lately.  She gave into it.  Becky climbed
the stairs and headed to her bedroom.  She barely made it to the bed before
she collapsed.  So many issues had been resolved in such a short period of
time.  No longer did she hit the pillow and have problem upon problem
dancing in her head.  Becky James didn't even bother with the covers.  She
just let go of the world and finally slept through the night.