The Boys: Lighting Up Starlight

The lights came on, illuminating the strangely dark New York street, but that only made it more strange. New York was not supposed to get dark at night, not really, and being lit by the video light on a camcorder did not count. But with the power grid still down, there was only so much the Channel 5 News Crew could do to show the world their reporter’s manicured appearance.

Annie recognized the reporter getting her game face on: shutting out emotions, whittling down distractions, and most importantly, making herself pleasant enough to be attractive and attractive enough to be inoffensive. People who got on TV were either attractive or freakshows. No one wanted to be forced to look at a freakshow when they were just trying to stay informed. 

The director counted them down, ready to put the reporter on air. Annie waited, unobtrusively striking a little pose. She told herself it was just to show up well on camera, reassure people. No one wanted to see a hero with their shoulders slouching either. Or maybe just her mother didn’t want to see that.

“Tricia Fletcher here with KVWX News. A breaking report from Red Hook, where thirty minutes ago we received reports of an explosion and now this power outage is stretching on into the night. City workers are attempting to restore power and we have Starlight of the Seven on the scene. Starlight, any comments?”

Annie smiled flatly as the microphone was offered to her mouth. “Thanks, Tricia. Luckily, I was in the area when the explosion occurred and I was able to investigate pretty much immediately afterwards. It looks like it was just an electrical explosion, cause unknown, but I’m sure it’s just an accident. It has knocked the power out, so until we have the grid back up, I’ll be walking the streets to make sure there’s no looting or other crimes.”

Tricia pulled the microphone back to her own perfectly made up face. “And we greatly appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to keep everyone here safe. Tell me, you say you’re sure the explosion was an accident—how are you so sure? Do you or the Seven have any clue as to what caused it?”

The question plunged deep into Annie. Horribly, she felt herself begin to blush, her ears burning. “I, um… I… I’ve had training into what a terrorist bombing or sabotage would look like, and there’s no sign of that here, luckily. Fortunately. It’s just an unfortunate, unlucky accident.”

The microphone volleyed back. “So you don’t know what caused it?” 

Just like that, it was jabbed at her again like an accusing finger. “N-no. But we certainly will be looking into it, just to be absolutely sure there’s no danger to the public. No threat is too small and no sacrifice is too great when it comes to serving the people.”

Thankfully, that bit of undigested talking point seemed to mollify Tricia, because she thanked Starlight, faced the camera, and launched back into her preening monologue. Annie resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from her brow. She was sure with a blackout on, it couldn’t be seen. But if she’d let one syllable of what had really happened slip to Tricia’s viewers…

***

Queen Maeve didn’t have her skirt on—the better to stay out of the way of the nine-inch dildo strapped to her hips, but the rest of her armor was all in place, making her look as powerful and imposing as ever. Annie felt a bit breathless as Maeve came up to her. She wasn’t as intimidating since they’d started dating, but now the sight of her filled Annie with a sexual yearning that made her as tongue-tied and fangirlish as ever. Could she be a fan of someone she was in a relationship with? No, it was deeper than that. Even knowing all of Maeve’s flaws, and there were many, she still saw Maeve as perfect, divine. 

“You’re really going to look me in the eye, girl?” Maeve asked, her voice husky. “Really think you deserve to face me? Turn around. Avert your eyes.”

Annie did as she was told, eyes downcast, head bent as though she were bowing to Maeve—although that wasn’t the direction Queen Maeve wanted her to bend. 

Maeve gave her a shove, sending Annie tumbling a few steps forward. She banged into the kitchen table, shifting it a few inches. 

“Don’t scuff the linoleum,” Annie said automatically, a lifetime of her mother trying to keep the neighborhood property values up still ringing in her ears somewhere.

Naturally, when Maeve replied, her voice dripped with irony. “I wouldn’t be concerned with the tile, Starlight. It’s my own ass I’d be worried about.” 

She gave Annie another push, this time making her bend over the table. Annie let out a squeal, feeling the protective veil of her skirt ride up the backs of her thighs. Even though this was her conservative, family-friendly superhero costume, there was only so much concealing her long legs and curvy ass without wearing a hijab.

“’Oh my,’” Maeve said in a high-pitched, falsetto voice—the one she used when mocking the normies that they flew above. Annie was torn between thinking that it was cruel and truthful enough to be funny. “’Isn’t that Starlight? What’s she doing bent over like that? Why isn’t she getting up—doesn’t she know everyone can see her nice, fat ass? And what’s that big dyke Queen Maeve doing behind her with a strap-on…’”

Annie grinned ironically. “Keep complimenting my ass and I’ll go back to wearing my romper suit.”

Maeve scowled. As much as she liked how Annie looked in the low-cut leotard that demanded daily maintenance of Starlight’s bikini area, she also hated the thought of the public getting such a scrumptious taste of the feast that was hers and hers alone to enjoy. They already had to share so much with the world—she wanted to hoard as much as she could of Annie, including her sweetly plump ass, to herself. 

“You’re a good, Christian girl, Annie—let’s make sure you’re wearing panties.”

She lifted Annie’s skirt up to the small of her back. Through thin white panties, her buttocks were smooth and silky and almost perfectly round. The backs of her thighs were supple, toned with muscles. And even inside her boots, it was obvious her calves were shapely enough to match the rest of her legs’ perfection. Maeve ran a hand up from behind Annie’s knee to the generous curve of her ass. Then she gave it a friendly smack, watching the loose flesh wobble. As chiseled as Annie was thanks to Vought’s scrupulous personal trainers, she still had enough curves to be interesting.

“Good girl,” Maeve breathed, plucking playfully at the leghole of Annie’s exposed panties. Lace trim. Such a girl. “That ass is only for me. You can show off your tits—your cute smile—those long legs—but that ass stays under lock and key. It’s all mine.”

“Are you going to do something with it or not?” Annie demanded, voice trembling. As submissive and ‘go along to get along’ as Annie naturally was, enough frustration brought out the tiger in her. And enough anticipation. Maeve had played this game with her enough for Annie to memorize what she was in for—if the Queen ever stopped teasing her.

“That doesn’t sound like America’s sweetheart,” Maeve goaded. “America’s precious little virgin… never been kissed… maybe she needs some masturbating fanboy to teach her what love is…”

“Don’t knock masturbation, I’m about five seconds away from giving it a try.”

Maeve grinned. “Tempting. What is the punishment for good, Christian girls who finger themselves? Hail Marys or just straight-up spankings?”

Annie rolled her eyes. “And enough with the religion. It doesn’t turn me on to hear you make fun of my faith.”

“How should I know that?” Maeve asked sardonically. “You are turned on, after all.” Her fingers looped around the waistband of Annie’s panties, pulling them downward—peeling the crotch from Annie’s sodden mound. “In fact… I think you’re getting off… right… now…”

Annie could’ve bit into the tablecloth. “Okay, congratulations, you have me ready to fuck. If you monologued for fifteen minutes before we played foosball, I’d be eager to get on with that too!”

“Then you don’t want foreplay? You just want me to…” Maeve tapped her strap-on against Annie’s plump ass, the panties lowered out of the way around her thighs. “Stick it in and start fucking away?”

Annie bit her lip, brow furrowing. It was almost tempting—she really was turned on—and enough of a sub to want Maeve to be that aggressive with her. But Annie also knew Maeve had the strength to really make that battleship steel dildo hurt, if she wasn’t ready. And she would doubtlessly get off when Maeve readied her, as she always had when they did it before, in those little preliminary skirmishes with Annie’s anal virginity. A good orgasm would take the edge off; make it easier to put up with Maeve’s domineering, douchebag bullshit. Which Annie loved, when Maeve’s tongue was finally inside her instead of just talking dirty…

“You’re quiet,” Maeve said. “That’s not like you. You wanna do a cheer?”

“I wasn’t a cheerleader!” Annie snarled under her breath. “You’re right, okay, fine. Thank you for trying to get me in the mood. But you know you don’t have to… fucking talk me into having sex with you, right? I want to, okay? Just get on with it. Please.”

Maeve hummed. Then crouched down, pulling Annie’s panties the rest of the way down until they were tangled with her heels. She picked up Annie’s feet, one by one, and scooted the panties out from them. Then she tucked them into the cleavage of her armor.

“Okay, seriously?” Annie demanded.

“A trophy won in fair combat,” Maeve shrugged. “Don’t ask me to respect your culture if you don’t respect mine.”

“I respect that you’re a pervert.”

“Course you do. If I wasn’t, I’d be licking you in the front. And we both know you only come half as hard when I do that.”

Maeve pulled Annie back so she wasn’t so much bent over the table as splayed on it, only her head and shoulders resting on the top. Her breasts swung underneath like succulent fruit, obviously ripe even inside her conservative costume.

Maeve knelt behind her, spreading Annie’s cheeks. She ran her tongue over the finely curved flesh, taking the salt of Annie’s sweat for herself until Starlight’s ass shone with saliva.

As always, Annie first froze at what was being done to her, so unused to the sensation after years of chastity—or at least, not outright kink—that she wasn’t sure if she liked it. But when Maeve’s tongue splashed between her buttocks and tickled over her asshole, Annie gave herself up to the pleasure washing over her. 

Maeve buried her face between Annie’s cheeks, hands on Annie’s thighs to pull her back into the tongue poking and prodding at her tight sphincter—possibly the one thing Annie unreservedly liked about what Vought had done to her was how her ass healed up like nothing had ever happened to it. Kept Annie from feeling like too much of a slut.

Still, she couldn’t believe her idol, Queen Maeve, always wanted to be so perverse with her. And yet being so intimate with Maeve that she was privy to her innermost desires, fetishistic as they were, made Annie feel closer to her. Maybe it was just Annie’s sugary upbringing, but feeling Maeve’s tongue stab into her asshole made Annie feel incredibly dear to the Queen. 

“Your tongue feels so good licking my ass! Don’t stop! Shit, how can I feel this good? Oh God… mmmmm….”

Annie arched her back, grinding her ass into Maeve’s face and feeling her tongue go a precious inch deeper into her rectum. Maeve’s fingers went between her thighs, playing over her sex. They spread the lips of her pussy, then Maeve’s thumbs both went inside her. Maeve rolled and rubbed her labia between her fingers, leaving Annie flowing wetly into her hands. That was how Annie felt—like she was entirely in the palm of Maeve’s hand.

Maeve tilted her head back more, and lowered it until her mouth was underneath Annie—licking up into her pussy. As Annie gushed with arousal, Maeve slurped it up. Then she moved back to Annie’s ass, pushing her tongue back into the hole, lubricating it with Annie’s own juices. Knowing this would be her last tonguing of Annie’s anus for a while, she strained her tongue deep into it, indelibly writing the feel of it on Annie’s senses, before standing. She put her strap-on against Annie’s loosened asshole.

Annie felt the hard, cold material—so unlike Maeve’s warm, loving tongue—push into her insufficiently clenched ass and reach deep into her bowels. The shaft punched into her easily, stretching, almost ripping its way into her, until Annie felt like she would be torn in half by the vicious impalement. Yet somehow, the pain of that first entry… that loss of virginity… made her need grow greater and more rapidly than ever…

“Your ass is mine now, ‘Capes for Christ,’” Maeve teased. “My tongue’s. My cock’s. No one else can make it feel like I do. Say it. It belongs to fucking me!”

“It’s yours!” Annie said in a pleading tone, nodding frantically. She didn’t know what she was begging for, submitting to. For the pain to stop? She didn’t really want that—it would take the pleasure with it. For Maeve to keep going, keep fucking her in the ass? What kind of slut would want that?

What kind of slut was Starlight?

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” Annie whimpered. “Come because you’re fucking me in your ass! Oh shit, I’m such a slut… don’t… don’t let me break the dishwasher. I’m so fucking hot, my power…”

“Relax, baby,” Maeve cooed. “We flipped the circuit breakers, remember? Can’t blow anything. You’re just gonna come…” She collared Annie’s golden hair in her hand and pulled it back, forcing Annie to look at her. “Wanna see you get that look in your eyes when you come. Every time I see you walk that sweet ass around the Seven, I’ll know how much you like getting it fucked.”

Annie mewled. Maeve was stronger than her and now she proved it, picking Annie up and slamming her facefirst against the refrigerator. The crayon drawings all the preschools around the country had made of Starlight escaped their magnets and fluttered to the ground. Maeve pumped into her from behind, phallic thrusts going through her and into the fridge, banging around the containers of old Chinese take-out inside. And with Annie’s head turned to the side, cheek shoved up against the stainless steel door, Maeve could see it flaring in her eye as she started to come. 

“Gonna plant a nannycam in here someday,” Maeve husked into Annie’s ear. “Make our own little sex tape. Or maybe just take a few photos for a nice little album. We’ll let the grandkids see what a tight ass you used to have and then we can show them what it looks like now that I’ve fucked it each and every night! MINE! MY PROPERTY!”

“Yes! It’s yours, Maeve! Fuck this ass! You own it!”

Maeve laughed triumphantly. “You’re better than fucking vodka, baby. I don’t need to drink one drop while I’ve got you. Shit, Annie, I really am going to take pictures. Need something to fucking masturbate to while you’re off doing your stupid Vought bullshit—retarded singing career—goddamned Campus Crusade like you don’t love my dick in your ass…”

Annie could picture it; see just how they’d look if Hughie or Homelander or some other duplicitous son of a bitch planted a bug. Her with her legs spread wide, leaning against the refrigerator with her hands braced on the sides. Her buttocks wide open, spread to their limit to accommodate Maeve’s huge strap-on pistoning into her splayed asshole. And despite the shaft’s prodigious length, Maeve was working most of it up between Annie’s soft white cheeks.

“Uuuuu, fuck,” Annie breathed, looking down at her groin smacking against the refrigerator to see she’d gotten her vaginal juices all over the shopping list. “What about my cunt, Queen Maeve? Does that belong to you too?”

Maeve responded immediately to the taunt. “You fucking know it does!” she cried, releasing half of her grip on Annie’s hips to wrap the arm around Annie, thrust the hand between her legs, fingers searching for Annie’s opening. Annie’s clit, erect as it was, greeted Maeve’s touch first. “There you are,” she cooed, and was rubbing it, pinching it, a blush climbing up Annie’s ivory complexion, chills running down her spine to meet it. “Does it belong to me or do you just never stop fucking giving it to me?”

Annie was sweating too much to answer, sweating and quivering. She tried to spread her legs more, though she’d need to be able to fly to get any more space between them. Maeve kept fingering her clit. Annie felt like howling at the moon, there was so much passion inside her. Her eyes were warm—she could feel them lighting up.

“I really don’t know—“ Annie laughed excitedly. “Don’t know if I can take this! Hold it! Are you sure you’re not—uuhh! Ohh!—carrying your phone?”

“Where the fuck would I keep a phone in this outfit?” Maeve demanded. “Shut up and come, bitch. Come like the anal slut you are. No more pretending you’re a good girl; you’re the Queen’s fucking whore!”

Annie gritted her teeth, eyes literally blazing. She hated it. She loved it. She hated how much she loved it. “You want me to be your whore? Fucking fuck me like one then!” She rolled her hips onto Maeve’s strap-on like she was trying to sit down in Maeve’s lap, skewer herself on every inch of that big hard shaft.

“Dirty slut!” Maeve grunted, and ground herself into the base of her strap-on until she came, squirting, her essence spilling through her harness to soak Annie’s buttocks, drip down her thighs. 

She fucked into Annie harder and harder, the climax stripping all her restraint away. Her strap-on slammed so deep into Annie’s ass that the force rippled all the way through her hips, made her pussy dance like it’d been slapped. Annie shut her eyes tightly, then couldn’t shut them, not when there was so much light behind her eyelids. She came with Maeve, for Maeve, the orgasm going on and on with both of them writhing in hapless spasms, driving them deeper and deeper into their frenzied ecstasy.

“Don’t stop!” Annie begged, happy to be a whore so long as it felt this good. “Fuck it into me deeper! Fuck me until I can’t take it! Hhhhoo! I’m coming! Coming on your cock! I’m so dirty, dirty—coming from getting fucked in the ass!”

“Coming from being my slut!” Maeve bellowed, and then things got really loud, really bright. Bursts of excess energy blowing out every appliance in the apartment, whether powered up or not, and spreading through the neighborhood to short-circuit anything with electricity in it.

Annie came to hearing distant car alarms going off, while an unnatural darkness poured through the window—the lack of New York’s omnipresent lights in the immediate vicinity.

“Oops.”

“Jesus,” Maeve said. “If I’d known you liked getting fucked in the ass this much, I don’t know if I’d’ve ever bothered with your pussy.”

***

Annie coughed uncomfortably—since then, she’d gotten her costume squared away, but in all the excitement, she’d never gotten her panties back from Maeve. And though she’d already given an interview, now she had to pull double duty for Vought’s news team. It left her really hoping that the wind didn’t pick up.

Just as the crew ran through their pre-air rituals again, Annie became aware of Maeve swooping in—standing beside Annie and putting a comradely arm around her waist.

“What are you doing here?” Annie hissed under her breath. “They’re going to suspect something…”

“They’ll suspect a lot more if you get all flustered again. Shut up and let an old pro handle it. After all…” Maeve flashed Annie a smug grin. “That usually works for you.”

As irritated as she was by that, Annie still found it a relief to stand there and look pretty, not having to worry about deflecting questions as usual. Maeve handled everything, assuring the viewers that it was just an accident, that there’d been no further damage done, and no one had been harmed.

“After all,” Maeve said, patting Annie on her still-sore ass, “with heroes like me and Starlight on the job, things always work out in the end.”