1st October 2034
They call me Precog. It’s not a great name, but it fits the bill. Ever since I hit puberty, I’ve had the ability to look into the future through my dreams. Each time I fall asleep, I’m given a glimpse of my own perspective from some point in the days to come. Usually the next day, but it depends. If I fall asleep after harming my brain with a heavy night of drinking, or while suffering from a malicious fever, the visions stretch forward in time to later, random points in my future. But that only happens from time to time.
Without a tried and tested method of controlling my dreams, my power is a touch hit or miss compared to the other heroes taking residence in this city. It’s inconsistent. Limited. I can’t change the future, only predict it. And dreams being dreams, I don’t catch everything. I forget plenty of what I saw before I can put that information to use.
It’s also not a flashy power. My precognition is not the dynamic flight of heroes like Orbiter, the pyrotechnics of Cinder or even the charismatic smile of the Generalissimo. Still, once the Accord of Heroes learned about my powers, they were kind enough to let me into their ranks. They gave me a name, and they tossed me a cape striped in the Accord’s sky-blue and sunflower yellow. I am one of them. Even if, more often than not, my powers mean I stay at home in the Accord Estate, right in the heart of the Capital, while the others zoom to the frontlines to tackle the villains and stop the kidnappings or whatever. My contribution to the daily briefings is to share my dreams with the heroes those dreams relate to. And it’s good work. I’ve stopped seven fires in the city so far, foiled two bank robberies before they could begin. Generalissimo gave me a solid pat on the back that time I stopped the mayor’s assassination.
I mean, I didn’t stop that assassination. The Generalissimo did. I just helped…
But today, that changes. I’ve just about recovered from a nasty flu, a product of the evil Plague Doctor’s intoxication of the city’s rainclouds. And during my time resting in bed, I dreamed. I dreamed the same dream, over and over, night after night. In the dream, my hands are shaking. I’m holding my phone up so that I can read the words on the news clearly.
“1st October 2034. Young hero Precog foils art heist in solo defence of priceless collection.”
The first day of October, the year 2034. That’s today. Today, I save the day. And I do it alone. It’s my destiny.
I don’t take much with me as I set out for the Capital Arts building on the day of my reported heroism. I can’t fly and I don’t have a cool jet or anything, so I’m taking the bus. And I make sure to tuck my cape under my jacket where it can’t be spotted until I arrive on the scene. I’m hopeful I can solve this cleanly, after all, without causing a fuss. And people don’t recognise my face, so I don’t need a mask. The little plastic disc that is my Accord emergency communicator is about all I stuff into my pocket.
But I do bring a weapon. It’s a laser gun that I invented through a vision of the future after the night of booze that was my induction into the Accord. It’s made of materials that are readily available in this day and age, but the military will invent the technology formally in about twenty years. My hands are shaking with fright and excitement as I tuck the gun into the back of my trousers and hide it with the hem of my jacket.
A flash of my hidden cape is all I need to be let into the warehouse storing the priceless collection at the Capital Arts building, all boxed up in preparation for exhibition over the weekend. After all, everyone trusts the Accord of Heroes. The young man in the building’s security uniform is kind enough to ask for a picture with me before leaving me alone in the warehouse containing the artwork. He’ll be watching me carefully over the cameras the whole time, he tells me. He’ll probably record what he sees for social media, I imagine. He closes the door behind me, and I settle in. My premonition didn’t give me a time for when the unknown villain strikes, so I’ve decided to arrive early in the day. It’s midday now.
The warehouse room is a tall, dusty chamber floored in simple concrete, and I take a seat behind a big, wooden crate with ‘Porter Shipping’ stamped on one side. It takes my weight easily, so it must contain something pretty hefty. Maybe a sculpture or something. Around me, other crates are pushed up against the walls of the warehouse and between metal racks containing the flatter shapes of packaged paintings. The roof above is pointed and lined with wooden rafters, since the Arts building is a repurposed industrial workhouse. Its interior is a holdover of an older architectural style.
And then I toss my jacket to one side, spread out my cape, and I wait. I’m good at waiting. It might be because my role in the Accord of Heroes is accomplished while I sleep, and my days are spent doing little more than watching my premonitions come about. Or maybe doing a bit of dry, monotonous paperwork with the admin team. I’ve gotten very good at entertaining myself. As such, I spend some time in the silent solitude of the arts warehouse, thinking about what a cooler costume for the hero Precog might look like. Not just today’s casual clothes and mismatched cape. Something futuristic would be on brand. I imagine myself in a gunmetal grey one-piece suit, my eyes hidden by a tight cap with a set of thick goggles. Cyborg bits and pieces dot my slim body, which is toned by a fitness regime that I’ll get into because I’m cool now that I’ve saved the day. Yes! That would be a good look with which to feature on the front page of a news site!
It turns out that I don’t have to wait all that long, in the end. I’m startled out of my daydreaming by a hissing sound from overhead. Peeking out from behind the crate, I look up towards the slanted ceiling. Twin sparks are making a wide, fiery, circular dance on the inside of the tiling. A moment later, a rough circle of fused ceramic is lifted free and placed on the roof to one side. Then, one end of a long, segmented metal rope is dropped into the warehouse.
Licking my lips anxiously, I glance up at the closest of the mounted security cameras in the upper corner of the warehouse. But before I can assess whether my new friend in the security office has seen this villainous intrusion, something lunges down from the dark of the rafters above the camera and loops its way tightly around it. A cybernetic snake. Most of its round head is taken up by a big, yellow eye, which it now stares into the camera’s black lens. There’s a little flash of debilitating light, and the camera goes dead. I dart my eyes around the room, and I see flashes of steel as other snakes handle the remaining cameras. What does that mean? Will security know that something is wrong, or not?
But there’s one thing that I do know. I know which villain this is. I swallow a lump in my throat as I prepare my attack.
She descends gracefully down the line dropped from the roof. She is dressed in a slimming, silken gown of racing green that hugs her hips and reveals the length of her shapely legs through a tall, flirtatious slit in the side of the skirt. She wears a black bolero jacket and fingerless black gloves, both made of pristine leather. Her hair is a thick, jet-black bob around her shoulders that she has accented with subtle, metallic green colouring. She faces away from me as she lands gently on tall, heeled black boots and enters a digital command into the thick belt around her slim waist with a tap of her fingers. I can just about hear her satisfied sigh though the perilous thudding of my own heartbeat.
My hands are shaking as I force myself to be brave. I win this, I remind myself. I’m the hero today! Even if I have to face one of the Dark Odyssey Movement, I’m destined to be the victor! I have nothing to fear!
So, breathing deeply, I leap up to my feet and jump out into the open warehouse floor, levelling my gun at the villain with one hand. The weapon hums with life in my shuddering palm.
“Freeze!” I call out. “D-Don’t move!”
The villain pauses the motions of her hands. Around us, I can see in my periphery the glowing circles of many digital, serpentine eyes aimed right at me. The machine helpers won’t be much good without commands from their mistress, so I think I can ignore them if I take her out first. The villain herself is still for a moment. And then she begins to turn about to face me. Something in my voice has given away my weakness.
“Don’t move!!” I insist fearfully.
But it’s no use. My fingers are unmoving upon the trigger. I can’t shoot another human being. I really should have known that about myself before bringing this impotent tool along with me today. What was I thinking? Was I really trusting to destiny so blindly?
This villain’s name is Gorgon. Her eyes glow with the same yellow incandescence as her drones, and when they lock onto mine, I am forced suddenly to stillness. I am drawn in by the ethereal light, the charming curiosity of her ruby-red smile and the dynamic, black wings of her alluring eyeshadow. Gorgon’s ability allows her to temporarily stun the part of her target’s brain which lets them make conscious movements with their body. Movements such as pulling the trigger on a laser gun. She can keep me held like this for as long as she retains eye contact, and the other heroes who have faced her seemed confident that she does not have to blink unless she wants to.
Gorgon tilts her head curiously at me, now correctly confident that I am powerless to harm her. She folds her arms under the round curve of her chest. The neck of her gown beneath her jacket is a sharp plunge that reveals the centre of her cleavage, and an onyx necklace studded with jade gemstones draws attention to her luscious, lascivious figure.
“Now, who is this?” she wonders aloud, pouting her soft lips. Her voice is a gorgeous, husky and confident alto, and her accent holds a curious continental lilt that I find myself eagerly trying to identify with the part of my brain that isn’t panicking. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.”
I can’t speak, of course. My body’s subconscious processes continue to function, thank God, but I can’t decide to say a single word while her eyes are on me. Gorgon saunters forward, and the movements of her rounded thighs are highlighted by the thin silk of her gown. Once she is within arm’s reach, she smiles with sudden realisation.
“Ah, I know you!” she declares. “You’re one of the General’s little Accord, aren’t you? You’re… their intern? Is that right?”
Her teasing smile makes me equal parts infuriated and aroused. My heart beats hard in a rhythm of her choosing.
“And you’re all by yourself today, little intern?” she chuckles. “How very brave of you. The big boys must have taught you well, to make you so brave.”
Gorgon reaches up and strokes her fingertip along the edge of my gun. “Still, to come here alone with just this toy to defend yourself with was foolish, wasn’t it?”
A robotic snake drops suddenly from the ceiling and lands on my arm, summoned by Gorgon’s free hand on her belt. My body flinches with primal shock, but as soon as I recognise my own emotions, I am forced back to stillness. Gorgon laughs proudly at my paralysis as the snake slithers its way around my wrist and about the metal box of my gun. The snake fixes me with its own wide, yellow eye. Then it crushes my gun into mangled scrap with a squeeze of its serpentine body. I can feel the pieces crumbling through the vibrations working their way up my arm.
“Brave little intern, why did you come here today?” Gorgon asks as her snake hops onto her shoulder from my outstretched hand. “You longed to be like the other heroes, hm? Big and brash and brave. Well, let me teach you something about those brave men and women that you idolise.”
She steps close with a sneer on her red lips. I can taste the scent of citrus, her perfume or maybe shampoo. Her body is warm, I can tell even as she holds it an inch away from mine. She’s a touch shorter than I am, but that in no way reduces the effect of her predatory smile.
“Your Accord of Heroes is nothing but a pack of glory hounds,” she tells me with mocking spite. “They can’t bring themselves to just affect change in the Capital. They have to provide spectacle. The heroes who win this little game of ours are the ones who can show the press that they are strong. Not the ones who do the most good.”
My throat strains as I try to push myself to speak. That’s not true! The Accord is a force for good! Glory hounds? That’s you, Gorgon! That’s you and the rest of Dark Odyssey! Using bombastic plots like the theft of priceless artwork to sow discord, fear and chaos in the streets of the Capital!
“You think I am mistaken?” asks Gorgon. I’m not sure how she knew what I was thinking. “You’ll agree once you’ve been with the Accord for a little while, mark my words. You’ll see that heroes only rise when they have a nice, big news story under their belts. The ones who do nothing but good deeds, the ones like you, are left by the wayside.”
I try to scowl stubbornly. She’s wrong, of course. The heroes in the media got there by being valiant icons of justice, not because they are more marketable.
But then… why did I feel the need to come here alone today? Destiny? Or was I also chasing the precious limelight?
“If you have doubts, I would be happy to put my theory to the test with you.”
Suddenly, my mind goes blank as Gorgon reaches up and strokes a long line down my cheek with one finger. Her touch is soft, her skin fragrant. I breathe in her breath with an eager hunger.
“I’m not going to kill you today, little intern,” she whispers, a mere inch from my lips. “In fact, I’m going to let you win this one. I’ll leave here with nothing and let you take the credit for defeating a member of the Dark Odyssey Movement. How does that sound? And then we’ll see whether the Accord of Heroes is still willing to keep their intern sequestered on the sidelines.”
Her nose bumps up against mine playfully, and her hand comes down to rest on my chest. “I think you will find all manner of good opportunities coming your way after today’s victory over me, intern. A nice name, interviews with the press, training and development from the other heroes. Eventually, a seat beside the great and powerful Generalissimo… Doesn’t that sound nice? And on that day when you receive the recognition that you deserve, I’d like you to remember me. Remember the one who let you get there. I think you will agree that I deserve a little something in return. Here…”
Her hand keeps trailing down my front. Down to the waistband of my trousers.
“Allow me to seal the deal, little intern,” grins Gorgon. “My rising star. Something to remember me by…”
My body flinches automatically as she rests her hand firmly on my cock over my trousers. I’m fiercely erect already. She’s done that with just the lovely sound of her voice and the warmth of her proximity. She squeezes me, and my paralysed body lets out a strangled moan of desire.
“Remember me, rising star. Remember me when you are alone at night,” Gorgon hisses as she deftly begins undoing my belt. “Remember my eyes. Remember my scent. Recall my touch…”
She frees me from my clothing. As her fingers wrap around my cock, I feel the painful desire to thrust my hips. But I can’t, not while I actually want to. Gorgon laughs teasingly as she begins to rub my cock with her hand. Her touch isn’t sharp or possessive. It is soft and warm. She knows that I want this.
“Maybe one night, when you can’t sleep and the moon is bright,” she whispers to me as she handles me with compassionate precision, tugging the pleasure out of me with soft squeezes, “I will come to you, and we can renew our vows to one another. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Just in case you have forgotten who you owe your future success to. I would enjoy that, rising star. I would enjoy reminding you.”
She places her free hand on my waist and holds me steady as she rubs my cock. Her tempo is rising. With it, the singing of my blood.
“Yes, someday soon, I shall come and find you,” she promises me as she works me. “I will lay you out on your bed and hold you firm with my powers as I ride you. Ooh, imagine it, rising star! Imagine how you will feel inside me!”
Gorgon grins with a sudden savagery. “I think you’ll be willing to do all sorts of naughty things for me when you’ve had a taste of my pussy,” she says proudly.
And in the depths of my mind, I am despairing. She’s right, of course. That’s why my vision of the future said that I save the day today. Not because I actually take down a villain and foil her plot. But because she allows me to take credit for her defeat. And if she’s right, and I find myself with an abundance of prestige as a successful, frontline hero in response to today’s victory, then I will think of her. It isn’t as though I can admit to anyone at all the shame of what I shared with her…
From today onward, into the future, I will think of Gorgon. Every time the mayor pins a medal to my costume, I will think of Gorgon. Every time a citizen thanks me for the pre-emptive rescue of a loved one, I will think of Gorgon. When my bedroom in the Estate is cold and lonely, I will touch myself and think of this moment. I will gaze out of the window in search of her. And when she comes to claim her prize, how will I be able to say no?
I am Precog. Weakling and coward. I’ll be powerless to resist. That’s my destiny…
“Don’t fight it,” whispers Gorgon as she corrupts me with the resolute pumping of her hand. She’s pleasuring me hard, now. My body is shaking as the climax builds in my belly, and my eyes are watering, both from the intensity of her body and from not being able to blink. She’s about to make me cum.
“Don’t fight! This is the truth of how we work, we heroes and villains both! We’re powerful, so we take what we want! Take this from me, now! This victory, and this little gift! And look forward to when I come to take from you! Don’t fight!”
Her eyes shine in the dark of my mind, and her light is all I can see myself by. Her smile, her touch.
“My lovely rising star!”
***
21st August 2047
When the coffee maker ends its cycle with a heavy click, and the hissing of the steam begins to gently recede, I extract the full pot from its rack and pour out a mug’s worth of heady, black liquid for myself. I couldn’t sleep well last night. I’d had a thought, and that thought had been exciting enough to keep me from my rest.
But I did sleep eventually, and I did dream. Breathing in a lungful of caffeine-rich steam, I hold the mug in both hands and look over at the tall, curved screen of the Accord Estate’s central control terminal, opposite the kitchen counter that we use to prepare our meals when we’re in a hurry. I lean forward on the round council table with its plush, blue chairs for each member of my heroic cohort. And I take in the rapid flashing of images that are currently being loaded and processed by our Estate’s resident AI.
My name is Precog, and I can see the future. Technology has come a long way in the last fifteen years, thanks in part to my seeing what hits the shelves before it arrives. The dream reader is just one example of this technology. The chunky, white machine sits on my bedside table and records every aspect of my sleeping mind’s visions. Then it loads those visions into the Estate’s central computer, and the AI decodes them so that I can turn them into action plans for the day. It saves me a lot of hassle.
Sipping my hot coffee, I track my eyes over the flashes of prescience that my mind has shared with the computer. There’s going to be some sort of altercation between citizens in a bakery on Seventh Street that will need a calming hand to untangle, maybe Hyacinth is best to handle that. Then a flooding water main in a building on the East Side that will reveal that the building’s basement floor isn’t up to code, so I should get Nautica on that one. Oh, and Plague Doctor’s going to have a go at breaking the terms of her parole at three o’clock, and I’d better make sure her nemesis Caduceus is on hand to put her back in cuffs. Easy decisions, all. In a minute, I’ll need to input those choices into the terminal. But there’s no rush. As on any other day, I have plenty of time.
Yes. Plenty of time, today…
“Hey Fiona,” I call out into the operations room. “Can I get a roll call on the Accord this morning?”
“Of course, master,” the AI replies in the sweet, girlish voice that I programmed for her. “I see that it is quiet in the Estate at present. Orbiter and Sunburst are still in Spirano concluding their unravelling of the Nihilomancer’s drug cartel. Cinder is busy with training for her mission to Mars in the new year. And Dragon-…”
“Still on honeymoon, I remember,” I say with a nod. “Who’s left in the building?”
“Other than yourself, I see that Hyacinth is tending to the garden,” Fiona explains. “And Viper is still asleep in her room.”
I realise that I am tapping my foot with excitement. “And we aren’t expecting any guests this morning?”
“I believe it is a free morning, master,” Fiona replies with curious amusement in her artificial voice. “I am sensing that you are plotting something again. Should I send out a warning to your fellow members of the Accord?”
“You don’t need to warn anyone,” I tell her with a grin. “It’s nothing dangerous. And if it goes right, I shouldn’t even need to leave the room for longer than a second.”
The more I consider it, the more my certainty grows. Yes, I have been preparing for long enough. I’m about as ready as I could ever be. And though there is no rush to get this done, and I could do it on any other day of my choosing, I don’t think that I can wait any longer.
Leaving my coffee only half-drunk, I march back to my bedroom just down the corridor from the round operations chamber. I toss aside my sleeping clothes. My uniform is crisp from the dryer in its folded pile in the wardrobe. A slate grey long-coat with thick, bulletproof padding, long sleeves and the Accord of Heroes symbol in white between my shoulder blades. Then a tight, black exercise shirt underneath, slimming trousers of flexible polyfiber and tall, black boots. I go without my gloves and my customary silver-metal headgear today. After all, my audience is going to be pretty small. Then I grab my gun belt from its hook behind the door and strap it on around my waist. The laser weapon that I repaired fifteen years ago is a familiar weight on my hip.
“Please be careful,” Fiona implores as I return to the operations room. “I know that you are confident in the use of your abilities, but we still know so little about how your body works.”
“You’re very curious about my body, aren’t you Fiona?” I say with a wink.
“M-Master, please,” the AI replies bashfully.
Grinning confidently, I picture my destination in my mind’s eye. I’ll have to reverse it in my imagining, but I still see it as clear as day. After all, I’ve been planning today’s venture for over a decade. I draw my weapon from my belt and recall from that fateful day the motions that I will need to perform. Seven shots. One o’clock, two-thirty, four, then ten, nine and seven forty-five. Then just a hair after twelve. I roll my shoulders in their sockets as I prepare myself for action.
“Here we go, then,” I say. “Watching carefully, Fiona?”
“Good luck, master…” the AI sighs.
The beating of my heart is the ticking of the universe’s cosmic clock. By counting my breaths, I am counting the passage of universal time. My vision begins to blur as I remind myself that I am in control of my own breathing. I can change the pace if I wish it. I can breathe in, if I wish it. I breathe in now. And time flows into me in a rush of billowing force. I swallow, and I am gone…
I open my eyes with a snap and a whoosh of air in the familiar light of the old Capital Arts warehouse. I am illuminated by sunlight spilling into a hole in the ceiling far above my head, through which a metallic line has been cast to the floor beside me. Around me are tall, wooden crates containing priceless artwork, including racks of paintings sealed away from air and moisture.
And right ahead of me, a past version of myself is receiving a handjob from a villainous woman in a green dress.
I don’t have time to celebrate my successful travel, unfortunately. I aim my gun and fire. One o’clock, and a yellow-eyed snake drone melts under a slender beam of red light. Two-thirty, another one is sliced in half. Four, then ten and nine. At the seven forty-five angle, I hit a robot’s energy cell and cause it to detonate in a shower of metal shards. Then I face forward, take careful aim, and fire one final time.
Gorgon’s slim shoulders stiffen with alarm as I neatly disable the snake sitting beside her neck with a blast of my laser. I recall rather than see the surprised tightening of her hand around my past self’s cock. Past me can’t wince like I remember that I wanted to, thanks to those gorgeous yellow eyes. Gorgon makes to turn and face me.
“Ah, I wouldn’t!” I order her, even as I lower my gun to my side. I’m not going to need it again. “My little intern might not be the boldest warrior in the Accord of Heroes, but you’ve seen that I can handle myself just fine. Stay still, keep your eyes on him, and we can talk this whole thing out.”
Gorgon does as she is told. She’s clever. And she knows that talking things out is her strength, rather than open combat. If I want to talk to her, she reckons, then she still has a chance to play this odd little scene out to her advantage.
Meanwhile, I glance at my past self standing with the beautiful villain. His eyes are locked on hers, naturally, but I remember well the uncertain relief that I felt when an unknown hero came to my rescue fifteen years ago. He can’t see me yet. But he’s about to get a very good look.
“You should know, my nameless friend,” Gorgon croons, still with her paralytic eyes fixed on past-me. “I have your intern in a very vulnerable position right now. I suggest you leave me to my work if you don’t want him rendered a eunuch.”
“Now, now,” I grin as I stride towards the couple. “No need for such savagery, Gorgon. We can work things out amicably.”
“I am glad to hear it, hero.”
I come to a halt about two paces behind her and take a moment to admire the way her dress falls around the round shape of her bum. The slit in her green skirt exposes a creamy expanse of thigh, too. God, villains are always such sexy dressers!
“Let me explain what’s happening,” I say, putting my gun back in its holster and placing my hands on my hips. “I’ve already called for the Accord of Heroes to come to our young friend’s rescue. That means we have about twenty minutes to ourselves, just the three of us, before they arrive and take you into custody.”
“That’s a long time,” Gorgon remarks with, I remember, a cautious frown.
“They’re at a conference,” I chuckle. “Twenty minutes is more than enough time for you to make your escape, don’t you think?”
“Plenty of time,” she agrees. “You’re saying that you want to let me go? Just like that?”
“I’m a hero of this city, I’m afraid. I have a duty to capture villains whenever I see them. But I am willing to let you go. Provided you first finish up with what you’re doing.”
Her head tilts to one side as she considers my words. “Come again?”
“Yes, exactly,” I laugh. “I’m saying that I’m more than happy to let you slither out of here, Gorgon. If you can make me cum in the twenty minutes you have before reinforcements arrive.”
Gorgon laughs loudly at my wild suggestion. Her head tips slightly back, causing her jet-black hair to bounce playfully along her shoulders.
“Oh, very interesting, hero!” she sings. “Do you hear that, my rising star? It turns out your beloved heroes really are just as deviant as we villains!”
“If not more so,” I agree with an unrepentant grin.
“You said I need to make you cum,” says Gorgon, and I remember that this is the point where she starts rubbing my past self’s cock again. “So, you want me to finish with your intern here? And you want me to finish you, too?”
I frown as I realise that I’d misspoken. I’d meant ‘me’ in the plural sense. Time travel was a real head trip. “Are you up to the challenge?” I ask her to cover for my fluster.
“It’s been a while since I’ve taken two boys at once,” she giggles. “But I’m no wilting flower, hero. You will see. Come here and take your prize for besting the Dark Odyssey Movement!”
I step forward. She thinks she has won this, of course. Gorgon’s confidence with sex is one thing that does not change in the next fifteen years, so I know it well. She thinks that both me from the past and me from the future will crumple under the seductive skill of her body. She thinks she will leave here today with two hearts in hand, not just one. Well, she’s about to be proven wrong.
I press myself up against her. It’s a little awkward, since my past self is still paralysed with his arm stuck straight forward and beside Gorgon’s head. I need to angle my right shoulder down a little if I want to lay myself fully against her back. I take a hold of Gorgon’s hips under the short hem of her bolero jacket and over the thick plastic of her utility belt. I sink my nose into the thick curls of her hair as I push my erection up against her bum and begin to rub.
My past self can see me now, I remember. I spare the poor lad a glance. He can see my face in his periphery, and he’s starting to catch on. Between strokes of his cock, that is. I don’t particularly like the look of myself right now, all tear-streaked from having my eyes open too long, lips pursed as my body fights for control of itself. Never mind. It’s still me. I give the boy a wink, and his brow twitches unconsciously.
Gorgon eagerly begins massaging my mound with rolls of her rear, and she chuckles darkly as she pleasures the two of us.
“Tell me your name, my big boy hero,” she whispers, angling her face to one side so she can nip at my chin with her teeth while still paralysing my past self with her eyes.
I smirk proudly as I kiss her temple. “Precog.”
Gorgon laughs. “What kind of a name is that?”
“It fits the bill,” I tell her.
She pleasures us in silent consideration. Later, she will tell me that she suspected the truth during this moment, though it took her some time to believe her own suspicions. As she contemplates the space/time continuum, I slip a hand off her waist and use it to pull down my trousers. Gorgon’s trail of thought is cut off with a little gasp as I push my erection directly against the thin silk of her skirt.
On her far side, I think I see my past self’s eyes widen in realisation.
“And you are Gorgon,” I remark against her lovely hair as I pull up her skirt from around her boots. “The name doesn’t do you justice.”
She chuckles as she wriggles her hips against my cock, helping me to pull her skirt above her underwear. Black pants, obviously.
“A villain doesn’t concern herself with justice,” she hisses with a smile.
Gorgon parts her thighs for me and allows my cock between them. She squeezes them together firmly. And she moans with encouragement as I hold her tight and begin to thrust. I sigh my satisfaction into her ear. She feels great. Her skin is soft and warm. My cock throbs with pleasure as I use her thighs to bring me release. I feel the heat of her pussy through her pants against my organ’s dorsal edge. I squeeze her bum with my hands, and Gorgon emits a little moan of desire.
“You must really like your intern, Mister Precog,” she sighs as she jerks my past self off with powerful pumps of her wrist. “To let him share in your reward like this.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “He’s going to do great things in the future.”
“Is he now?”
“Absolutely,” I grin as I tongue her ear playfully.
“Well,” Gorgon giggles, “sounds like just the sort of man I should be keeping an eye on.”
“Mmm,” I moan. “Yeah. Don’t take your eyes off him.”
Her laughter is musical as she works her wrist with half of her attention, rolls her hips with the other. I run my hands along the bare skin beneath her skirt and drink in the intoxicating scent of her perfume. I lean down and kiss her neck. I can’t help it. She’s a phenomenal woman, my Gorgon.
My past self suddenly lets out a strangled moan. I recall that he’s reaching his limit. Gorgon will make him cum soon. She’s beautiful, certainly. But it’s the sight of his future self so confidently loving her that will push him towards climax. There’s an odd sort of pride that comes from seeing yourself fucking so adeptly, or so I’ve come to believe. A few years from now, a drunken conversation I have with Cinder after a successful operation will reveal that many of the Accord of Heroes consider me a narcissist. I have to wonder whether today is the day that became true.
But not just yet. Gorgon growls out a note of frustration as she pauses her ministration of my past self’s cock and shakes out her ailing wrist with a pretty scowl.
“Fuck,” she sighs. “He’s holding on better than I thought he would, Precog.”
“Well, you’d better hurry,” I grin. “You have ten minutes.”
“You are joking!” Gorgon’s eyes snapping towards my face, pressed against her neck, briefly release past-me from paralysis. But she quickly returns her eyes to him and renders him still after just a jerk of surprised motion. “Ten minutes?” she hisses. “It hasn’t been that long!”
“Well, you asked me so many questions before you got started,” I tell her. “Is this going to be a problem, Gorgon? After you so boldly agreed to take us both on?”
She raises one hand and takes a handful of my hair in her grip, so I bite down playfully on her neck. She moans, squeezing my cock more firmly between her thighs.
“I… I will prevail yet, hero!” she insists.
“You’re sure you don’t need to change tactics?” I ask against her skin. “I think you know of a good way to get us both cumming in no time at all.”
“But the angle…” she complains between desirous groans. “I’d have to… take my eyes off your intern.”
“He’ll be good.”
“Mhmm,” moans Gorgon. “Will he?”
“He knows you’ll have to stop if he tries anything,” I assure her. “And he’s quite infatuated with you now, I can tell. He’d never dream of letting you stop.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m very sure.”
“W-Well… Alright, then. Be good, my rising star…”
I lean back from Gorgon as she reaches up to cup my past self’s cheek tenderly. And then, as I watch, she blinks.
Past-me winces and groans as he is released from paralysis. He slams his watering eyes shut and pulls in his aching arm against his chest. Gorgon and I laugh together as he twists and turns to stretch out the muscles that have stiffened from his lengthy stillness.
“Now, would you be so kind as to kneel down with me?” Gorgon asks me, leaning back against me and reaching up to stroke my cheek. “I’m tired of standing.”
“Whatever you need,” I reply.
Before Gorgon can lower herself down, I remove my coat and lay it out on the floor for her. She grants me an amused smile and a cheeky curtsey. But she also looks up into my face for the first time. Her wonderful yellow eyes take in the detail of who I am. I see her mind working, gears turning, brow hardening. She recognises me. But there’s no way, she thinks to herself. Surely not.
I tap my wrist to tell her to hurry up, and she rolls her lovely eyes at me. Gorgon lowers herself into a kneel on the soft padding of my jacket before reaching up into her skirt and pulling down her pants. I take my place behind her. When she sheds her leather bolero jacket, I take it from her like a fancy butler and fold it up for her.
Meanwhile, past-me is staring down at us in uncertain confusion. His trousers are open, and his cock is a courageous, if slightly ridiculous rod. When Gorgon pauses to adjust the neckline of her gown, he meets my eyes. He raises up the mangled shape of his gun in one hand and mimes bringing it down on her head.
‘No!’ I mouth severely. It’s a stupid thing to think, but I remember thinking it when I was him. And this is a pretty stupid situation. I can’t blame him for trying to play the hero. But he needs to realise that I know what I’m doing. Grinning encouragingly, I bring up my arms on either side of the woman kneeling before me and mime thrusting into her. Blushing brightly, past-me nods his head. Then he kneels down in front of Gorgon.
“Such good boys,” she grins, and then leans up and kisses past-me on the lips. I smile with envy as I watch it happen. I’ll be chasing the high of her kiss for years after today.
But then she releases past-me, shoving him back with an aggressive push of her hands. She bows her flexible, serpentine body forward, parts her lips and uses her fingers to slide my past-cock inside herself.
Past-me convulses at the feel of her lips around him. I can’t help but laugh. Yes, it’s pretty fantastic. Gorgon’s soft lips and hot, wet tongue are a pleasure like little else. The suck of her mouth is a fiery pressure that milks the precum right out of my past self. Past-me drops his damaged weapon to the concrete, and then plants his hands on Gorgon’s shoulders for balance, lets his eyes roll back in his head and begins to thrust. Gorgon chuckles around a mouthful of cock as she sucks him all the more vigorously.
My turn. I plant my legs between hers and tug her green skirt up over her waist. My own cock rubs along the wet slit of her pussy and coats itself in her lubricating fluid. I grin proudly at Gorgon’s hopeless lust. I remember being my past self and wondering just how into this the villain was getting. But now that I’m here, I can tell that she’s just as turned on as I am. She wants me just as much as I want her. What deviants we both are!
I adjust my hips against hers and grip the shaft of my cock with one hand. Then I hold tight to her waist, thrust forward and penetrate her.
Gorgon whimpers out a shout of pleasure from around my past self’s cock as I push up and into the depths of her. I can feel her body shaking around it. Her pussy squeezes me excitedly and covers me in liquid. I pull back briefly before thrusting into her a second time, and I grin with pride as she emits that uncontrolled, deeply sexy noise once again.
“F-Fuck!” I say through gritted teeth. “You like that, villain?”
“Mm-hmm!” she agrees as she sucks my past self’s cock with hungry slurps. Her spine arches wonderfully as she receives me deep inside herself.
As I begin to fuck her with gusto, I let the pleasure take me away. Gorgon really is an excellent lay. Though I’ll find occasional romance with fellow heroes in the time beyond this one, and though a couple of them do end up teaching me a thing or two between the sheets, it really is the bad girls who know how to fuck.
Gorgon takes my two cocks in stride and pleasures me twice over with deep, powerful rolls of her body. She allows the slapping of her bum against my waist to begin the returning swallow of her throat around past-me’s cock. I hold her waist for balance, but only lightly, since I wouldn’t dream of preventing this gorgeous woman from doing her job. And past-me’s hands are white-knuckled claws on her shoulders that likewise do nothing to stop her from taking him deep and drinking the pleasure of his cock. Gorgon moans out in rhythm with the pounding of her pussy against my body, and her slurps on my past self are primal and desperate. She is wet and warm, accommodating and so very, very sexy. I feel the need to say something cool that reminds her that I’m in control.
“A-Ahh, fuck!” is all I manage to get out.
We are like this for some time, taken away by the mutual pleasuring of one another’s bodies. But eventually, my past self has taken all that he can handle. It’s fair enough. He’d been getting a righteous handjob before we even got started. Past-me bucks forward with a strangled, twisted snarl of climax. An ugly expression, I realise. I might need to work on that. Gorgon holds tight to the base of his cock with one hand, his thigh with the other, as she drains his cum into her mouth. She takes it all. I remember the sensation of her tongue lapping around my swollen head as I cum inside her. And I remember the gasp for air she lets out when she has swallowed it all down.
Gorgon, leaning up and planting her hands on past-me’s shoulders, now begins ramming herself backwards against future-me’s cock with heavy slams of her hips.
“A-Ahh!” she moans as she works, turning about and fixing me with those brilliant, paralytic eyes. “You c-close, hero?”
“I’m close,” I confirm with a hiss.
“Cum inside, hero!” she gasps with desperate, plaintive eyes. “C-Cum in me! Do it!”
But I know how this goes. With Gorgon sitting upwards, I lay a hand on her shoulder and begin to thrust up and into her with enthusiastic force. I can feel the climax coming, but I’m able to ignore it. I focus on penetrating my partner. Pushing up and into her. Squeezing myself against her in a bid to hit the very depths of her.
Gorgon’s gasps are now loud and disjointed. They echo luxuriously against the walls of the art warehouse. “C-Cum! Cum!!” she demands. “Or I might-…! I might…! I’m gonna…!!”
“Go on, do it!” I encourage with a rictus grin. “Cum for me, villain!”
“N-No, I…! I…!!”
It’s no use. Gorgon’s body stiffens as a climax races through her. She plants herself firmly upon the rod of my cock and screams out a long, warbling scream of joy. Fluid drips uncontained around my shaft and into my jacket beneath her.
“Oh… fuck!” she moans. “Fuck!”
When she opens her eyes, she sees the bemused stare of past-me. She grabs my past self by the ears and suddenly kisses me hungrily. I still wonder about this moment of passion she shared with me, and recall fondly the uncanny, salty taste on her stained lips. As she wraps her arms around the shoulders of my past self, I see a woman enamoured by her partner, drunk on her sex. Taken away by her pleasure.
I let the pair make out for a few moments, but I really am at my limit. I pull on Gorgon’s shoulders to remove her from the lips of the other me and then force her down onto all fours with a tug of my arms. She acquiesces tiredly, palms slapping on bulletproof padding. Then I fuck her hard in her pussy. My body slaps against hers as I rid myself of the last of my resolve.
“Oh, yes! Yesss!!” I hiss out as I cum into her. An orgasm fifteen years in the making spurts into Gorgon and coats her insides with slick, white liquid, and my cock shivers as it unloads itself of its cargo. My head lolls dazedly as I come down from my high. Left in its wake is warm, comfortable satisfaction.
As I sit back on my haunches, spent of my cum, Gorgon pulls herself stiffly off my cock. She crawls blearily towards her discarded pants and clumsily tugs them on again. When she is done, she finds that I am standing with one hand extended for her. She takes it gratefully and rises to her feet, wobbling slightly on her heels. She turns about, and I put on her jacket for her. My past self, meanwhile, concentrates on putting his cock back in his trousers.
“W-Well, boys,” Gorgon says with a lopsided smile. “This was fun. But I believe your friends are almost here?”
“I think so,” I agree as I move to stand with my past self, allowing her access to the cybernetic rope she used to get into this warehouse. “You’d better hurry on out of here.”
Gorgon nods as she walks for the rope and knots it around one foot. As she does, I watch her clumsy motions proudly. I did that to her, I remind myself. That was me.
The shoulder bumping inquisitively against mine isn’t a surprise. I smile encouragingly at my past self as he eyes me nervously.
“Is this really alright?” I ask myself. “I mean, we should be taking her in, right?”
“Nah,” I assure him. “Not this time.”
“B-But…!” past-me stammers. “This is…! If she tells anyone…!”
“She won’t tell anyone.”
“Are you sure? If she does, w-we’re in trouble! This breaks every rule in the book!”
“Does it?” I fix my eyes on him with a meaningful raise of my brow. “I don’t think it does.”
Past-me licks his lips and tastes Gorgon’s gloss, visibly at a loss for words. I clap my hand onto his shoulder.
“Take it from me, young man,” I say with a wide grin. “This is a great victory. I think you’ll find that today’s prize is much, much better than just your name in the headlines.”
“Really?” he asks.
When I turn my eyes onto Gorgon, he follows my gaze. Gorgon is watching us. Standing side by side, we must look like brothers. Because there’s no way we could be… Right? Her bright, yellow eyes are narrow and suspicious as she regards us. But as the line begins to retract up towards the roof and takes her with it, she smiles secretively. There’s a little blush visible in her cheeks. I wave, and she wiggles her fingers at me playfully.
“That’s alright, then,” says past-me with a nod. And we watch Gorgon disappear from sight.
“Right!” I clap my hands together and bend to retrieve my stained jacket. “Time I was out of your hair, hero.”
“W-Wait!” Past-me takes my shoulder urgently. “B-But, what do I do?”
“Call for help,” I say with a shrug. “You still have your communicator, right?”
“You mean, the others aren’t actually on their way yet?”
I give my young self a smug smirk as I pull on my coat. “After they get here and wrap up your victory for you, you’ll know what to do. Trust me. Now, I really should go.”
Breathing in deep, I taste the kiss of Gorgon on my lips. A memory. My every breath brings me one second closer to seeing her again. Time moves at the whim of my breathing.
“Wait!” my past self calls out as I begin to fade out of reality. “Wh-When do I discover time travel?”
“Come on!” I chastise with a grin. “I wouldn’t dream of spoiling that surprise!”
And with a rush of time, I am gone. It billows about me like a raging storm, leaving me still in its eye. I can feel the passage of years spilling between my fingers.
And then, with a snap, I am back in the future. I stumble forward against the round council table in the Estate operations room, suddenly exhausted. My knees wobble uncomfortably. When I look up towards the kitchen counter, I see my mug of coffee. It’s still hot as I drain the energising contents hungrily.
“M-Master?” Fiona asks hesitantly. “Did you accomplish your task?”
I swallow down my coffee and wipe my lips on my sleeve. “Oh yeah,” I croak. “Great success.”
“That is a relief.” The Estate AI gives a cute little digital sigh through her speakers.
“Hm? What’s going on?”
I plant my cup on the council table and turn to face the western entrance. I can’t help but grin foolishly when I see who it is.
Viper, the hero previously known as the villain Gorgon, stumbles sleepily into the operations room. She’s dressed for bed, which for her means a long, black t-shirt with a heavy metal band’s logo made of sharp, lightning edges across her chest. Her bare feet pad along the carpet towards me as she scratches at her thick head of black hair with both hands. Black with little streaks of silver, now. She is frowning tiredly as she takes me in with her lovely yellow eyes. No makeup this morning, meaning the creases at the edges of her eyes and lips are visible, but she’s still very beautiful. Not many people get to see early morning Viper, and that knowledge makes her beautiful indeed in her sloppy half-dressed state.
“Well, look at you, commander,” she smirks. “Dressed for work at this hour? You really do have to get up early in the morning to beat the Commander of the Accord of Heroes, don’t you? You heading off on a mission, Master Precog?”
“I’ve just gotten back, actually,” I grin.
“Oh?” Viper narrows her eyes at me when I refuse to give her more details. She slowly looks down my body at the musty coat that I’m wearing, the scuffed knees of my trousers and the tousle of my hair. The perspiration still beading on my brow.
Viper steps towards me and puts her hands on my shoulders. Then she leans in and sniffs. And her expression brightens into a wonderous smile of recognition.
“October first, 2034?!”
“You bet,” I smile.
“Hah! Amazing!” Viper bounces up and down excitedly, and I admire the uncontrolled jiggle of her breasts beneath her shirt. A stern physical regimen has meant that Viper’s body is just as supple in her forties as it was when I first met her fifteen years ago.
“And?” she asks, leaning eagerly up towards my face. “How was it? As good as you remember?”
“Better,” I say, holding out my arms. “So much better. You’re incredible.”
“Aw, my sweet rising star!” She hugs me tightly, then pushes up on her tiptoes for a kiss on my cheek. Then, with an excitingly dangerous glint in her yellow eyes, she kisses my lips. Her mouth lingers against mine for longer than would strictly be professional for contact between the Commander of Heroes and his subordinate. But I allow it. How could I not?
“Fiona will want you to debrief on your operation, commander,” she whispers into my mouth. “And writing it up sounds like such a hassle first thing in the morning. Why don’t you come back to bed with me and show me what happened with your body instead? Of course,” she adds, smiling hungrily, “since there’s only one of you this time, you’ll have to fuck me twice!”
I open my mouth to express my eager assent. But before I can, there’s a noise like a rush of wind from behind us. Viper and I turn to face the disturbance, and my eyes go wide.
“That won’t be necessary, actually,” says an older version of me, dusting off the gloves of his futuristic costume. I remember him from an age-old dream when he had used a mirror to show me how to build a laser gun. He’s grinning with surprising vim for a man who looks to be nearing fifty, with grey in his stubble and wise colour in his eyes.
But Viper is grinning all the wider. “Oh, fuck yes!” she sings.
shortstory
Ewan Stone 
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