The characters from The Incredibles don't belong to me. They belong to Pixar Animation Studios (who in turn belong to the home of the Mouse, Walt Disney Pictures). Nor do I own the characters from Heroes, they belong to Tim Kring and Tailwind Productions. I'm just borrowing them and muddling them up
Heroes/Incredibles: Heroines Part 2 - The Indestructible Claire Bennet (Ff,inc)
Vi's eyelids felt like they were glued together. It was an effort to open them. Gradually she forced them apart, letting the sunlight filter in. She reached out her arm, the bed beside her was empty. She sighed, that meant it was time to get up. She pushed back the quilt and walked over to the drawer, she fancied wearing black today; she smiled to herself, she always fancied black. She quickly got dressed, the clothes which had scattered the floor last night were all gone. Her Mom must have put them away. On impulse Vi opened the sex-toys drawer, the strap-on she had used last night was back in place, a slight sheen where it had been cleaned.
Vi grinned, it was just like her Mom to tidy up first thing in the morning, everything just had to be in its place.
She headed downstairs to the kitchen, she could hear Jack-Jack singing a nonsensical song and banging his plastic knife and fork against the table in a disjointed harmony. She walked into the kitchen, Jack-Jack changed his song as he saw her. It was no more in tune than the previous one, but at least it had a few vaguely recognisable words even if they didn't seem to be in any order. She leant over and ruffled his hair, "Morning kiddo, thanks for sleeping through last night."
Jack-Jack paused his song and looked at her quizzically. Vi lent forward and gave her little brother a friendly kiss on his forehead. He broke into a smile and launched into another merrily random song.
"Morning Vi," Helen Parr was at the basin washing some dishes. She stopped and lifted up her dressing gown, showing her ass. The hole, which had been well opened, last night was as closed as a virgin. Vi grinned, it was a little tradition that her Mom would show her daughter how healed she was. Vi remembered the first time they'd done it anally and how when she saw how gaped her Mom's ass was that she feared she'd done her irreparable damage. Her Mom had told her not to worry, and the next morning when she'd come down lifted her T-shirt to show her pristine bottom. There were advantages in being elastic, she had told Vi.
"Good morning, sexy," Vi walked up and folded her arms round her Mom. Helen purred in pleasure, more so as Vi slid a hand beneath her dressing gown and slid it over the Milf's stomach. Vi slid the hand lower.
The groans escaping from Helen's lips got louder, she weakly, and not too seriously, tried to push Vi's hand away. Her daughter ignored and moved her hand down past her Mom's little tuft of pubic hair and rested her hand over the slit. Just having Vi's hand resting on her pussy lips made Helen wet and she gave another groan. "Vi, not in front of Jack-Jack," Helen protested weakly.
Vi turned her head, "Jack-Jack, do you mind if I finger fuck Mommy?"
Jack-Jack clumped his plastic cutlery against the table, "Momsy-womsy, Viey-wiey, deeble, dabble, dee," he sang merrily.
Vi turned back her head back to her Mom, lowering it on Helen's shoulder and murmuring into her ear, "I don't think Jack-Jack minds."
Helen Parr gave another weak moan, but she put up no resistance as Vi extended her finger and slid it up her tightened cunt. Sometimes Vi would take her time, slowly moving the digit until she touch the clit, rapidly withdrawing it leaving Helen begging for more, repeating the process until Helen was a bundle of nerve endings wrapped in flesh. But it was a school morning and whilst Jack-Jack was singing happily at the moment, soon he'd be wanting breakfast and would be getting grouchy. So, all things considered, it was best to go for a quickie.
Quickly Vi located the clit and started to bang her finger into it. Her Mom groaned and pressed her body against Vi. The teen slid her other hand under the dressing gown and started to play with one of her Mom's titties, squeezing it and playing with the nipple. Faster and faster she hit the clit, her Mom's cum slid down the pussy, covering Vi's finger, lubricating her and soaking into the skin. Faster, harder the teen's finger went.
"Oh, yesss," Helen was writhing in pleasure, her body rubbing against Vi. The movement had ridden her dressing gown into the small of her back, so her naked butt was rubbing against Vi's black denim jeans. The friction of the movement was reddening her butt, almost as much as the red on her cheeks as the orgasm built up. Suddenly she bucked, "Ohhhhh, yessssssss, arrrrrghhhh."
Pulling out her cummy finger, Vi licked the sweet Mom juice from it. Helen was breathing heavily, the colour of her face slowly returning to a paler shade of red as the orgasm slowly dissipated. Vi squeezed her butt, "I better head to school, see you later."
"You haven't had breakfast," Helen protested.
Vi licked her finger again and smiled, "Yes, I have."
* * *
It wasn't Claire Bennet's normal route to school. But she'd woken up that morning after having spent the night dreaming of naked women writhing round her. She knew the signs, if she didn't get relief she'd have night after night of the dreamy, nightmares of herself spread-eagled whilst girl after girl tried to satisfy her. And the only way to stop it would be to masturbate over a new girlie-mag. It was disgusting and perverted, she knew, but like using leeches to suck out blood poisoning, sometimes illnesses responded to nasty remedies.
Not that she would dare go into any shop where she might be recognised. So it was a roundabout route where the shopkeeper wouldn't know her from anyone else. If they did gossip about a cheerleader buying a rag mag, well it could be anyone of a dozen girls. The bell tinkled as she entered. The man at the counter briefly looked up, before returning to the paper spread on the counter. Claire started to move over to the magazine rack. Suddenly she stopped; the emo coming round the candy bars to stand in front of the magazine rack - she went to Claire's school: Veronica? Vivienne? No. Violet, Violet Parr, that was it. The emo turned and it was as if she knew exactly what Claire was up to, Vi blushed in shame for Claire and quickly turned away.
Feelings of horror surged up Claire. She snatched the nearest magazine she could find, a copy of Train Modelling. It wasn't good, Violet would think she was a total geek, but better to be thought a geek than a disgusting dyke. Hurrying over, Claire slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter. She could feel cold sweat trickle down her back. Not even waiting for her change she hurried out of the shop, gasping down the air outside as if the walls inside had been closing round her.
* * *
Putting her copy of 'Girls in Girls' in her bag Vi exited the shop, blessing any listening God for her lucky escape. She'd just popped in to buy the latest copy to play with herself over lunch when she'd seen the cheerleader. It was horrible, for a second she'd thought Claire was going to say hello. Vi didn't mind Claire knowing she was a dyke; if anyone had asked, not that they ever did, she was out and proud. It was just having to speak to a stranger, especially a cheerleader, would have made her legs give way and her tongue explode in her mouth. If Claire hadn't picked up the train modelling magazine for her brother and turned away Vi felt she wouldn't have been able to resist going invisible, no matter what was said about not using her powers.
The blonde cheerleader was about thirty yards in front of her, striding ahead and not looking back. That suited Vi just fine. She slung her bag over her shoulder and followed at a distance. The sidewalks vanished as the two of them walked from suburbia and past neatly mown fields, with the only sign of life cows mooing in the field. That was until a vehicle appeared from behind. It was a flashy sports car, Vi couldn't tell which model, with paint as red as lipstick. Vi made sure she was walking on the grass verge, ahead of her Claire was doing the same. The car slowed almost to a stop as it passed Vi and she, out of a vague sense of curiosity, looked at the driver, she was an attractive blonde with a look of determination on her face.
There was a squeal of rubber as the car burst into acceleration, straight towards Claire.
"Look out!" Vi screamed.
It was too late. With a crash of metal and flesh the sports car thudded into the cheerleader. Like a rag doll Claire was tossed into the air, her limbs splayed out in all directions, her head rocking like her neck was an elastic band. The crump as she hit the ground was little quieter than the initial collision. The car sped on as Vi ran towards the cheerleader. It was obvious she was dead. Vi had never seen a corpse before, but even to her amateur eye the broken, bloodied mess on the floor was already dead.
The car had motored a bit further on, before the driver executed a deft turn, sending out another screech of rubber. It started to zoom towards the corpse, seemingly to make sure. Automatically Vi sent out a burst of energy. The car and energy collided, sending the bonnet up and steam bursting out like fountain. There was another squeal of rubber as the car reversed into a turn and sped away.
"Oh my God," Vi ran towards Claire. They hadn't been close, not even acquaintances, but Vi still felt sick in her stomach as she regarded a young life taken.
She gazed down not sure what to do. Suddenly Claire's eyes blinked. Vi almost barfed, she was so sure the teen was dead. She whipped off her jacket and started to lower over the cheerleader, who if by some miracle was holding on, surely hadn't long to go, "You'll be fine," Vi cooed sympathetically.
"Off course I will," replied Claire, she sounded wistful and embarrassed, rather than what Vi thought would be the normal reaction of terror at the dying of the light.
Vi was just digesting this, when like the monster in a horror film, Claire's fingers started to pop back into place. Jumping back Vi watched as the blonde's cuts began to heal and her limbs, positioned at impossible angles, began to swerve back to their normal place. After less than a minute the only way to tell Claire was in an accident was her torn cheerleader uniform. Slowly Claire stood up and brushed herself down. She gave a quirky smile, which faded as if she had only just remembered Vi was standing beside her. She leant forward and gripped the brunette's arm, "Please, don't tell anyone," her voice was pleading more than Vi thought was natural for a cheerleader, "Don't tell anyone I'm a freak."
For a second Vi thought about telling the pretty bitch where to get off; it would be revenge for all the countless humiliations all geeks suffered from the attractive and blonde. But one look at Claire's face made her merciful. Gently she undid Claire's hand from her arm, "You're not the only one," she said and vanished.
She reappeared seconds later, standing behind Claire. The cheerleader gasped and turned, "How did you do that?"
"I dunno. I just do; like wiggling my toes or moving my hands. But see, you're not the only freak."
A tear trickled down Claire's cheek, "That's not the only reason, why I'm a freak."
Before Vi could ask what she meant the cheerleader had turned and was walking up the road.
* * *
"Hi pussylicious, I'm home," Vi called.
Round the door came Helen Parr's head, supported by a neck that would have shamed a giraffe. Vi opened her mouth and slid her tongue into her Mom's. By the time she pulled it out the rest of Helen had appeared and she was back to normal human shape, "Good day?" the Milf asked.
Briefly Vi considered telling her Mom about Claire, but Helen had tried so hard to put their superhero past behind them to find there was another in neighbourhood would probably just freak her out. Instead she grinned, "We had swimming practice. You know what I was thinking as I changed with all those sexy sixteen year olds?"
"Mmnnn, what baby?" Helen pushed herself up close, her hands started to fiddle with her daughter's jeans button.
"That I've got a slutty whore of a Mom who licks pussy like a pro."
Helen blushed with pleasure at the compliment, "I've just put Jack-Jack down for a bit. Want to see how good my tongue skills are?"
There was a growl of assent from Vi as Helen continued to unbutton the jeans. The Milf slid down the zip and pushing aside the panties slid her finger over her daughter's cunt lips. Vi gave a purr, and pulled down her jeans as her Mom continued to tickle her, "That's good," she murmured as she kicked off her jeans.
Helen withdrew her finger and peeled down her daughter's panties. Her touch had been enough to make Vi wet, leaving the panties with a small stain on them. Once they were down Helen picked them up and licked at the wetness, the cotton took most of the flavour, but there still seemed enough. She glanced seductively at her daughter as Vi sat down on the sofa and spread her legs, exposing her pale, smooth cunt. Helen dropped the panties and got to her knees between Vi's legs. She licked her lips, as if savouring a tasty snack, "Your pussy looks so yummy, I want to gobble it all up."
Vi ran her hand through her Mom's hair, "Oh your dirty, disgusting whore, wanting to suck my juicy box clean."
"Mmmnnnhh," Helen lifted her eyes so she could see her daughter's face and stretched out her tongue. She was in no hurry so she ran the extended tongue round the outside first, licking away the first dips of cum as she ran it over the lips. There was a moan from Vi and she closed her eyes, a happy, satisfied smile on her face.
"That's it slut, tongue my pussy like a whore bitch," Vi groaned.
More than happy to oblige Helen pushed her tongue into her daughter's sweet slot. The cum bubbled against her tongue as she slid it in. She was still looking at Vi, loving the way her sexy daughter's face moved in pleasure, expressed much better through the contortions of her expression than she could ever manage in words. The pussy was warm and soft, the walls moist leaking cum onto the Milf's tongue; its flavour like a sweet fruit. Helen swirled her tongue round the hole, it wasn't exploration as she knew it already, but each time she licked out Vi it was like a rediscovery. She headed towards the clit.
Vi bucked as Helen found it. She let out another groan, "That's it you dirty skank, tongue-fuck me."
Helen ground her tongue in deep, pushing her daughter's bud into the soft flesh surrounding it. More cum leaked from Vi's cunt, threatening to overcome Helen's taste-buds in a profusion of fruit flavours. The teen was bucking energetically now, squealing in pleasure, gripping her own pert titties and pushing them together, "Yessss, yessss, that's it. Aaaarggghhhh."
Vi's backed arched do much Helen wondered if some of the elasticity genes had gone to her daughter. Vi's eyes fluttered and her hands clenched her tits so hard it was like she was in the electric chair. Helen withdrew her tongue, snapping it back to normal size. She looked at Vi, "How was that, baby?"
Vi shook her head in wonderment, "You are the best pussy licker ever."
Upstairs Jack-Jack began to cry for attention.
* * *
There was no-one in when Claire got home. For a second she wondered why, then she remembered it was Kyle's soccer practice. Her Mom would be with all the other soccer Mom's cheering their offspring on. Claire headed upstairs and undressed. She couldn't believe that Violet knew she was indestructible, all day she had been waiting for the catcalls and shouts of 'freak' once the Goth told everyone her secret. It hadn't happened, she wondered if Violet felt sorry for her, she too had a power she had shown Claire. But Claire knew from experience that bitter, cold Goths liked nothing more than to humiliate cheerleaders and make them look stupid, she was obviously waiting for a chance to bring Claire down to her level. Claire slipped on her robe and pulled out the cord, she tied one end round her neck and walked into the landing holding the other end. With luck the emo wouldn't get the chance to tell everyone how much of a freak Claire was. If cutting healed, well strangulation wouldn't.
She tied the end of the cord to the banister. For a second she looked at the floor below, then she jumped. The cord cut into her neck painfully, as it tightened she could feel herself gasping for bliss. She closed her eyes and waited for the end. It didn't come, instead all that happened was she swung round in circles; it was painful and uncomfortable, but like everything else she tried it wasn't fatal.
With a sigh Claire gargled out, "Attempt number eight," she paused and thought about her accident that morning, "Attempt number nine," she corrected herself. Now how the hell was she to free herself before her Mom and Kyle got home?
* * *
"Did you kill the cheerleader?"
Elle looked up from the trashy romance she was reading, at the newcomer. It was so rude of Mirage to just walk into her hotel, she could at least knock. Elle might have been entertaining or in the bath or something. Not that Mirage would care, she was as cold as ice and would probably have just sat on the bed interrupting Elle's groans of passion with her questions; "Yes, I ran her over. She's dead."
"I saw her going into school, she looked alive to me," said Mirage.
It was hard to tell if she was joking, but Elle wasn't in the mood for kidding around; not with ice princess anyway, "She's dead. I hit her at close to eighty and she bounced like a ball. If she's not dead, she's indestructible."
"Well that's what we'll tell the mistress anyway," Mirage laughed without humour, "Let's hope you're right or she'll not be a happy bunny."
_ _ _
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