Not your first choice, not by a long shot. When you reached the front of the line you were whisked off to a side conference room where The Owl was waiting. The Owl is one of the highest ranking female members of the league, a legacy heroine with a slew of high tech gadgets and considered one of the best martial artists in the world. What the costume refused to reveal but your body-empathy screams at you is that her athletic form has been honed to stunning perfection.
Even more worrying to the logical part of your mind is that according to your body-empathy she's in her early 30's and she's ovulating, right now. Either she's developed a way to counter your pheromones or she's used her clout with the Legion to interview you herself without realizing that she's been making these decisions because her body was betraying her.
"Progeny, I've been wondering if this meeting was going to happen. Please take off your shirt."
"Pardon? I don't think that's such a good idea."
"One of your rumored powers is the existence of extra appendages, vines from the small of your back. We do need to have them on camera for analysis, please remove your shirt."
Hesitantly you obey as dirty thoughts begin taking over your mind, Not Now Dammit! You catch a glimpse of her licking her lips but she regains composure quickly.
"Other powers, photosynthesis- useless but interesting. Bodily-empathy, which if I understand this correctly means you're like a telepath but your read biochemistry instead of minds, correct?"
"About right."
"Then there's why you're called 'Progeny'. Every child you've fathered has displayed at least a metagene if not powers at birth. All your kids are either powered, or will be by the time they hit puberty. An interesting ability."
"It's why I came to you, the supervillains are after me for that and I need protection."
"No it's not," the Owl counters- stepping forward, "They're after you because according to my investigation you've raped approximately 400 women, including 70 known female meta-criminals, using a pheromone-based mind control power."
"That's a lie," you angrily counter, "I don't control anything. My pheromones just make people horny- everything they do is still them. With some meditation techniques I've picked up I can tone the pheromones down a bit, but I can't shut it off. If you want to say they were raped it was by the woman that grew me, not by me."
"Typical villain arrogance, nothing is your fault," she fires back, getting your face.
"Fuck you! I may be the ultimate dead-beat dad, but I'm not a rapist."
She squints and for a moment your body-empathy tells you she's going to attack- but instead she leaps at you and starts a rough, passionate kiss.
Think fast, you may still have the willpower to stop this- but she feels so nice. . . |