Mighty Milf

"Excellent work out there, Mighty Woman," the man said. "I'm glad to see you back in the field."

Michelle grimaced. A few hours having passed since the battle, she found herself in a military base near the capital. Her costume had mostly repaired itself, and her womb had mostly been drained of the villain's seed, but her stomach was still somewhat swollen. Almost immediately after the battle, she had been ordered there for a debriefing, and a conversation with Malcolm Maddison. Head of the Department of Superhuman Affairs, he was a tall, muscular man with a handsome face and a bald head.

"Well, I'm just glad I could help," Michelle replied.

"You'd sound more heroic if you smiled when you said things like that," Malcolm said with a laugh. "You haven't cracked one since you got here."

Michelle crossed her arms. It was easy for him to say that. These suits didn't need to fly into the field to do any real work, and they'd certainly never been publicly humiliated and violated like she had.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm not looking to sound heroic," she muttered.

"So, I take it you'll be retiring again?" he asked.

"You brought me back because most of the Hero Society's members are off-world, right?" she questioned. "I might stick around for a while. The people need a hero who's actually going to stay on this planet."

"Excellent!" Malcolm exclaimed. "It may not have been my intention, but I'd hoped this battle might inspire you return. I've been a big fan of Mighty Woman since I was a kid."

"I wish everyone else was as thrilled about it as you are," Michelle sighed. "I think most of the world was more excited to see my chest than to see me saving them."

"Hey, it's not everyday you get to see a superhero naked," he told her. "Give them some time. I'm sure people will come around."

"Maybe," she murmured. "Do you mind if I keep the costume? It might be a bit revealing, but it's quite the upgrade from what I have at home."

Malcolm's smiled faded. "That's where things get a bit complicated. If things were up to me, then yes, but I'm not in charge. If you want to continue doing hero work, you're going to need a sponsor."

"A sponsor?" she asked.

"Things are different than they were when you left," he explained. "It's too dangerous to have masked vigilantes running around with no oversight. You remember the Turbo Teens incident."

Michelle nodded. It had happened shortly after her retirement. An alien force had come to the planet, though their intentions had been unclear. While the earth's heroes and governments had tried to negotiate with the aliens, the Turbo Teens, a group of rebellious heroes determined to leave their mark on the world, attacked. They had managed to wipe out the aliens, but at the cost of three of their own and half a city. It had been later that it was learned that the aliens wished to form an alliance with earth to defend against a much greater threat.

"Alright, so you need to keep tabs on heroes," said Michelle. "I don't see what this has to do with sponsors. Can't you just monitor what I'm doing when I'm on duty?"

"That would be ideal," said Malcolm, "but there are two big issues with that. First, you've made it pretty clear that you don't want to be an agent of the state. Second, my superiors aren't exactly keen on working with you after your public condemnation of the war in--"

"You mean invasion," Michelle interrupted.

"And that's exactly the problem," he sighed.

"Okay, so that's not going to work, but there are other options, right?" she asked. "You wouldn't have brought it up otherwise."

"There were options," Malcolm said. "When you first started touring, thousands of sponsors were looking to get their hands on you. Unfortunately, most of them became less enthusiastic after your performance in Haven City."

"That wasn't my fault!" she snapped.

"Yes, yes, I know," Malcolm insisted, "but these brands don't want to associate with that kind of thing. Like you said, people are more focused on your chest than your deeds right now."

"Okay, so what?" she huffed. "Is that it then? You brought me here to tell me that I just can't be a hero?"

"No, not quite," he said. "There is one sponsor still interested in you. In fact, what happened in Haven only made them want you more."

"And they are?" Michelle asked impatiently.

"Hero X," Malcolm told her. "They focus on the production and distribution of adult entertainment featuring superpowered individuals."

"A porn studio?!" she demanded. "What, you want me to be some superpowered pornstar?!"

She stopped dead in her tracks, a scowl on her face. She clenched her fists together, trying to contain her anger, but her trembling alone was enough to shake the hallway. Malcolm had expected a reaction like this, but he hadn't thought of how, exactly, to deal with this situation.

"Hang on now," he said. "You won't be a pornstar. Hero X will just own the rights to your name and likeness. At worst, films and toys will be made based on you."

Michelle didn't even listen. As the man prattled on, she let herself rise off of the ground. Holding in all the things she wanted to say, she shot out of the building and took to the sky. She couldn't spend one more second listening to Malcolm try to sell her on working for a porn company. Besides, she had a family to get back to.

Malcolm sighed as he watched Mighty Woman fly off. He certainly couldn't blame her frustration and anger about her current situation. The chance of any respectable sponsor backing out after Breeder X's defilement would have soured anyone's mood. But what did she expect? Like it or not, the woman had been a sex symbol all her life. Hero X was always in the running for those sorts of Capes. If the company didn't wallow in its sleaziness, their profits would be incredible. Instead, they take pride in making their heroes cram themselves into revealing outfits two sizes too small and selling all sorts of related product. They were unabashedly appealing to a common denominator lower than most others, and Mighty Woman had just shown how intense that market could be.

A contingent of armored soldiers made their way to the doorway of the room Malcolm was stationed in.

"Sir, it's ready."

Nodding, the head of the DSA followed them out to the makeshift base. Various aerial transports had arrived, and convoys of armored vehicles had arrived from Haven City proper. As each was opened, it was clear just what they were doing. Women, most of them pregnant, were escorted out by heavily armed and armored soldiers. The DSA had made headway rounding up and pacifying the members of Breeder X's Sisterhood and had prepared them for transportation offsite. Many of them looked dejected and broken; their God cast down and defeated, his vision unfulfilled.

Malcolm overlooked their procession into the aircraft that would carry them away. This "Breeder X" had laid the foundation for a super powered army. How could any responsible government let resources like that go unchecked? Inside each of these women was a child with the potential to rival the strength of some of the world's greatest heroes. A rogue superhuman could never be trusted with that sort of responsibility, but perhaps the DSA could. Regardless, those plans were months away from coming to fruition. No one at the DSA had any idea what Breeder X was capable of, so much study would be required.

As the last transport arrived, a sealed metal casket was hauled off the back. Malcolm walked down personally to inspect it. Inside was the comatose Breeder X, having descended into a trance as his body went about healing itself from the thorough beatdown he had just received. Depending on how things play out, the super human's vision of a peaceful world might not turn out to be so far fetched.

With a nod, Malcolm cleared the group to go. Although the main fight was over, there were still undoubtedly pockets of Sisterhood resistance inside the city, and civil services that needed toe be quickly reinstated. It was never a fun job, but the DSA wasn't created for those. As he walked back towards his command post, Malcolm's phone rang. Checking it, he saw it was a call from Carl Vespucci, a representative of Hero X. As the head of the DSA, it was another facet of Malcolm's job to interact with the heads of these sponsorships. With a sigh, Malcolm answered the call: "Yes, Carl?"

"Mr. Maddison! My favorite government agent. How was my prospective recruit after the show?"

"She was none too keen on your company's sources of revenue, if I'm honest."

"I'm surprised to hear that after the show she just gave. Mighty MILF was moaning like a bitch in heat during that fuck! You'd think a closet slut like her would jump at an offer like mine."

Malcolm, ever the professional, hated to deal with Carl on a personal basis. Hero X was vetted and cleared as an authentic and viable company by many different government agencies, but Carl tended to be a piece of work. At some level, Malcolm could respect it; the man's company lived and died on sex appeal. But Carl let it seep a bit too much into his core. "Well, regardless, I did make it clear that your offer is the only one outstanding. If she wants to continue hero work, she'll have to sign on with you."

"Ah, Malcolm, you do this heart proud. Hey, next time you're in Las Legundas, I owe you a drink!"

Malcolm closed his phone, their business concluded for the moment. Right now, he needed to focus on cleaning up Breeder X's mess.

*

It was late at night by the time Michelle arrived home, the sun having set not long after her departure. Despite her incredible speed, she could not travel instantaneously as some of her old contemporaries could, and it didn't help that she had needed to travel by car for the last leg of her journey. She pulled into the driveway as quietly as she could stepped out into the cool night air, now dressed in a plain business suit, hair tied in a loose bun.

Her heels hovered less than a millimeter off the ground as she made her way to the door. The last thing she wanted was for her dog to hear her coming and wake the whole neighborhood with his barks. With a few quick motions, she unlocked the door, slipped inside, and locked it behind her, all in the blink of an eye. With a sigh of relief, she kicked off her shoes and floated up the stairs.

"Mom?" a tired voice asked.

Michelle immediately let herself drop onto the ground and spun around. Lying on the couch behind her, rubbing her eyes, was her daughter Brooke. She was a short girl with pale skin and brown hair that hung to her shoulders. Though she didn't share her mother's height, Brooke had inherited other features, like thick thighs breasts nearly as large as Michelle's, all thinly veiled by the long tank top she was wearing.

The girl slowly sat up and reached for her glasses. She didn't just look tired; she looked exhausted, like her day had been nearly as rough as Michelle's. Still, she smiled and waved, and murmured, "Didn't think you'd be back 'til tomorrow."

"Well, I got everything finished up early," Michelle replied. "You look like you've had a pretty rough day. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Alright, if you say so," Michelle said skeptically. "Is everyone else home?"

"Yeah, mostly. Rose's still gone, but she said her trip might be a little while when she left."

"Alright, dear. Do you want me to bring you anything? A pillow? Blanket? The couch isn't really meant to be slept on."

"No, it's fine," she replied with a yawn.

"Okay. Goodnight, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Mom."

With that, Michelle turned and continued her ascent, now on foot. On her way to her own room, she used her heightened senses to ensure everyone else was alright. Thalia was asleep in her room downstairs, Lily was passed out in her crib, Evelyn was trying to quietly play video games and Holly was YouTube. Michelle sighed. She knew she should punish them for breaking the rules and staying up, but it wouldn't be fair to do so if she could only catch them with her super-hearing.

Her husband was lying in bed, sound asleep with the blankets pulled up to his chin. A part of Michelle was glad that he was asleep. It was better that he saw her after a night's rest, once her wounds had fully healed. Another part of her wished that he had been there to talk to, to unwind with after a terrible day. But even then, there wasn't much they would have been able to talk about.

Michelle loved her husband. Who wouldn't? He was handsome, dependable, caring. He didn't have the body of a superhero, but he wasn't one of the frail men that heroines often find themselves with. He was there when he needed her, and he was more than willing to take care of the children and the cleaning, and anything else, when she was unable to, but there was still a rift between them. No matter how many years went by, she couldn't tell him about Mighty Woman. Even if he didn't let it slip while bragging about her, she didn't want to make him worry for her.

Slowly, she undressed herself, letting her clothes fall to the floor, one article at a time, until her bruised body was completely bare. Careful not to wake her husband, she peeled back the blankets. As she did so, something caught her eye: a sight that often made her excited, but, that night, only bothered her. Straining against his plaid pants was her husband's cock. She wasn't sure why, but Michelle gently pulled down John's pants, letting his member spring out.

There it was, hairless and uncut, drooling with precum. The size had never bothered her before. Five inches had always been enough to satisfy her, and she hardly minded needing to top most of the time, but when she looked at it that night, all she could think of was being brutally pounded by Breeder X. Soon, she found her hand drifting between her legs, slowly massaging her aching clit as she thought about the afternoon's events.

Those thoughts were quickly gone from her mind as her husband began to stir. She stopped touching herself at once and covered her husband's manhood once again. Not wanting to disturb him anymore, she slipped into the bed and pulled the covers over her. Hopefully, all she needed was a good night's rest.

*

Joshua walked down the street of Frankfurt with his hands in his pockets and his eyes down. To say he wasn't the most confident of his current plan of action was an understatement; the young man's powers had only recently manifested in any meaningful way, and he was going to use them proper. He had always known a life of hardship, of denied opportunities, and a general rejection from society. There wasn't a time he remembered when he wasn't living on the streets. Needless to say, his life had molded him into someone more than a little unstable when it came to others. Joshua tended to be impulsive, violent, crude, acting more like a teenager than any twenty something probably should, so when he shot a bolt of electricity out of his hands during an argument with someone, his mind immediately went to using it to finally up his status in the world.

The powers he had were relatively simple, and nothing knew to the super-human community at large. Controlling electricity was a pretty bottom-level power in a world with people who can deflect asteroids or transform into bestial monsters. But it was certainly enough of a leg up to terrify normal people into submission, so, as Joshua entered the bank, he took no time to drop his hood and send out a powerful wave of static discharge all around him. People yelped and fell to the ground, their bodies seizing up with the sudden jolt of electricity.

Standing above their prone forms, Joshua laughed and gloated: "Look at all you idiots! Spazzing out the floor!"

Cruelly, he sent another jolt around him, knocking out some people in the bank this time. This was the first real moment Joshua felt above others, and he loved it. He cleared the teller's counter with a jump before he started to hungrily eye the sorted cash behind it. Taking off his backpack, he began to quickly stuff hundred and twenty bills into it. Taking out everyone at once and shorting out the electronics had given him a few moments of cover before the cops would show up. Joshua was certain he could take on those pigs, too. He had practiced sending jolts into bullet casings to trigger their charge inside. The second the cops tried to pull anything on him, he would light them all up.

Of course, he never counted on bystanders outside. His powers put on one hell of a lightshow, and even in the middle of the day it was impossible not to notice. Any sort of head start Joshua thought he had was lost as soon as someone outside called 911. He had no idea that by the time he was halfway done filling up his bag, law enforcement was already well on its way.

*

Michelle sat quietly in her chair, surveying the array of computer monitors before her. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, and she was dressed in nothing but her silver boots and a white thong. The underwear weren't something she would normally wear, but, unfortunately, her suit was so tight that any panties she was wearing would be obvious. The thong was still somewhat visible, but that was preferable to a camel toe.

In the few days since battling Breeder X, she had spent most of her time down here, in the bunker deep beneath her home. Finding the hidden entrance in her office had been a nightmare. She must have pulled on every one of her books in every possible order before finally getting the shelf to slide out of the way. The state of the bunker itself had been horrendous, and even after cleaning and repairing everything, she could hardly get any work done. Her equipment had once been considered cutting edge, but now her computers could barely run the latest update of Google. Finally, after four days of hard work, and an amount of money spent she'd rather not even think about, everything seemed to be in working order.

Suddenly, one of her speakers crackled to life. She had set up her systems to scan for police radio signals relevant to her, and this message was right up her alley. A call for all available units to come to the scene of a superpowered bank heist? It was a perfect way for her to help out and finally get some positive publicity.

Filled with confidence and excitement, she stood up from her seat and grabbed the mask from her desk. As she placed it over her eyes, the microscopic robots inside of her boots quickly began to stitch together her costume. It still wasn't perfect. Nearly every feature of her body, from her stomach and belly button to every bump and wrinkle of her areolas, was not only visible but accentuated in this costume, but she was still out of practice and the suit's enhancements helped her compensate for that.

Citizens in the streets below might have heard the echoing sound of a distant thunderclap, and those looking in the right place at the right time may have seen a streak of silver dart across the sky. Ninety miles might seem far to the average hero, but that was hardly a warmup for Mighty Woman. Racing forward at the speed of sound, it was only a few minutes before she arrived at the scene of the crime, landing gracefully before the parked police cars.

"Don't worry," she said with a smile. "I've got this from here, officers."

Not waiting for a reply, she marched towards the bank's entrance, hips swaying from side to side. With a swift kick, the doors flew open, evoking gasps from the hostages. Startled, the criminal spun around fired a bolt of lightning towards her. Smirking, Mighty Woman stood there, unfazed. It stung a little, but she had taken far worse.

"Ready to give up yet?" she asked confidently.

"Oh shit! It's Mighty MILF!" Joshua grinned; he had seen the news stories about her in the intervening days, from her embarrassing exposure to her violation by Breeder X. "I just jerked off to you this morning! I'm a big fan of those fat tits!"