Chapter 1

CW: Sexually explicit descriptions of characters younger than 18. This is plotted smut.

Taylor Hebert wasn't quite ready to go back to school.

It had been too long already, she knew. Nobody could fault her for taking a mental health break, given all that had happened - hell, if they knew the whole story, anything less would be worrying. Still, she hadn't been back to school in almost a week, and she knew that the longer she delayed, the more likely it became that she would never go back.

Which, come to think of it, wasn't the worst idea. It wouldn't be that hard for her to make a living, and school hadn't helped her to learn anyway - she was stuck in classes below her level due to sabotage from her "fellow" students, and so she didn't have the same opportunity to learn as the other students. On balance, the quality of education didn't justify the psychological burden that Winslow High had bequeathed to her.

She knew that that wasn't really the problem. Sure, she could survive without ever going to school again. She was sixteen - not ready to face the world alone, not yet, but old enough to figure it out on the fly. No, the real problem was her fear. Intellectually, she could find reasons not to go back, but they were all lies - the real reason was that she wasn't prepared to face her fears. She needed to go back, if for no other reason than to prove to herself that she could.

As she strengthened her resolve, Taylor stiffened the middle finger that had been idly sliding up and down her slit. Staring straight into her webcam, she entered herself, her long, thin finger brushing the walls of her pussy as she gasped quietly. Her tongue darted through her closed mouth, circling and wetting her lips as she began to pump her finger in and out, tickling her clit with her index finger. Moans, gasps, not too loud, but not especially hushed.

Her laptop gave a distinct, high-pitched ping. She brought her hand up to her mouth, licking her residue off of her fingers before blowing a flirty kiss toward the camera.

"Thanks to 'weblust' for the tip!" Her voice was light and giggly, with just a hint of implication. Her hand returned to its position and she quickly worked her middle finger back into her pussy, sliding in at out at an enjoyable pace while still not putting too much effort into it. Instead she chose to focus on the camera, looking directly into it with uncharacteristic confidence and intensity.

The camming was new, and she couldn't really explain where it had come from. After being discharged from the hospital, she had been left alone in her house - her father had a pretty tightly-packed work schedule, and he wasn't home often. That he still had a job in this economy was something of a blessing, but that didn't make circumstances any easier. She had resolved in advance to take at least three days off of school to reorient herself, at the recommendation of her doctor. It felt like she had taken up camming almost on a whim - the idea had floated to the top of her mind and, recognizing that she wouldn't be able to quell it, she had instead acquiesced, giving this new venture a try.

Taylor hadn't done any research at all on the subject, instead just finding the most popular site and diving straight in, consequences be damned. This, in hindsight, was probably a good thing - she had never been secure in her body, and some of the girls she had seen since then put her to absolute shame. Had she taken the time to scope out the competition, she thought, she never would have been able to work up the confidence - it had been a near thing even despite her ignorance.

Truth be told, she still wasn't comfortable with her body. She was thin but not slim, awkward but not cute, her bust was small and her ass was flat. In terms of physical attractiveness, she couldn't compare to the most popular girls on the site - really, she couldn't compare to almost any of the girls on the site. She wasn't ugly, but she was plain, and guys don't normally want to pay to see a plain girl awkwardly touch herself. Her personality, too, was less than ideal - that was a product of shyness and insecurity more than anything, but in hindsight, it had been a major issue. On her first day, she had almost been hiding from the camera, pressing her legs together, bringing her knees up to hide her breasts, caught like a deer in headlights.

And yet, she had seen significant success, and although she didn't want to admit it, she knew exactly why.

Guys liked to watch her because of her power.

Even before she had taken up camming, she had some suspicions. Ever since the accident, people had been treating her as more capable and mature than they had before. Her father, in particular, had changed - when she told him that she needed to take a sabbatical from school, he had basically accepted that she was able to act in her own self-interest. He trusted her, more than he ever had before, to fend for herself if need be. It hadn't been conclusive, of course, nor even particularly convincing, but his strange behavior, combined with a vague recollection that superpowers tend to manifest after periods of extreme trauma, had given her the hint that she just might have developed something.

Her time as a camgirl had all but confirmed that theory. It didn't work all the time, but when she looked directly into the camera, people took note. When her viewers saw her eyes, they called her sexy, beautiful, "a good little slutty bitch" (that last guy caught a ban, but it was still a sweet sentiment, in a sick way.) The effect was persistent, too - she could convince viewers that she, a gangly black-haired plain Jane teenager, was hot stuff, and they would believe it even after she stopped exerting her influence.

A part of her was terrified of what she could do. Her working theory was that she could alter peoples' perception of her - make them see her as more attractive, more responsible, more capable, et cetera. It wasn't brainwashing, to be sure. She couldn't, for example, convince somebody to give her their car for no reason. Still, it was a powerful effect, and she could think of some rather unsavory ways to use it. Though she could justify it, even camming made her feel squeamish, and there were far worse things she could do.

On that first Sunday, she had attracted a small audience - her effect didn't work through still images, and so very few guys clicked on her static profile picture. A few did, though, and she was able to enrapture them with her power, building a small but devoted viewerbase. The site's algorithm favored girls who got viewers to watch for long periods of time, and so, by the end of the first day, she was occasionally appearing on the site's front page, where her profile picture was replaced by a miniaturized version of her live stream. She had quickly become one of the top-viewed girls on the site, with rivals whose tits were at least twice as big as hers and who had been building their personae over the course of months or even years.

She hadn't had a laptop at first - she had been using her Dad's desktop computer, which came with no small amount of guilt. The money started coming in, though, and by the time she was midway through the second day she had amassed enough credit to purchase a low-end laptop with a webcam from an online site. This hadn't been an entirely natural development - she spent the first half of the second day using her power to convince her audience that she was very poor and desperately in need of money, which had increased her income substantially. After covering the cost of her equipment, though, she had reversed this effect. It made her feel slimy, using her power to convince people to give her their hard-earned money, and she wasn't really camming for the profit of it anyway. In any case, it had all been uphill from there - it was easy enough to convince her dad that the money for the laptop had come from doing odd jobs around the neighborhood; she didn't think he particularly cared, but she didn't want to explain that the money had really come from her whoring her body out to strangers online, and so providing an immediate explanation seemed best.

Not that what she was doing was technically illegal, mind you. The laws regarding age of consent had changed pretty drastically around 2005, when it came out that many 20something Protectorate capes were getting action with their (mostly younger) groupies - though there hadn't been any allegations of sex with a minor, the PRT had figured that it was only a matter of time, and pushed legislation and cultural change to preemptively avert that scandal. Under the new laws, she, as a sixteen-year-old, was considered an adult in a sexual capacity, making what she was doing perfectly legal, even if she was one of the youngest girls on the site.

Of course, she wouldn't have been able to placate her dad by explaining that to him, had the truth ever come out.

And so the week had continued - Taylor's three-day sabbatical extended to four days, then five, and finally to a whole week, as she continued to grow her presence as a camgirl whilst refusing to acknowledge her real-world problems.

In the living present, Taylor was moaning deeply, her head tilted back as she humped a soft white pillow. It was Sunday evening, which meant that she had committed to returning to school tomorrow, and she had already resolved not to reneg on this final negotiation with her own fears. This was her last all-day cam session for quite a while, she knew, and she wanted to make it count.

Of course, it was also the weekend, which meant her viewership was way up. Mostly, this was because of teenage boys, who wouldn't be able to sit down and have another solid masturbation session for a good hundred and twenty hours. They didn't tip well, but they helped catapult her straight to the front page, which she wouldn't complain about.

Idly, she wondered if any of the guys from her school were watching. A week ago, the thought of exposing herself to somebody she knew would have terrified her - she would have been worried that news would get out, and she had no idea what she would do if that happened. Now, though, she wasn't so worried. It seemed possible that at some point during the week, one of her classmates had tuned in and recognized her, but if word had gotten around, she would have known about it. Emma and her posse knew her phone number - they would have absolutely blown her up with degrading messages if they had caught wind of this, especially since they hadn't had the chance to torment her in person. The fact that she hadn't heard anything from them meant that they hadn't heard from anyone else. Besides, she had taken some precautions, exercising her power to convince her audience to respect her wishes when it came to actual life decisions, and suggesting that she didn't want her online persona to leak out into the real world. She had originally intended to stop herself from being recognized and approached in the street, but it covered well enough against this eventuality.

In her feed, she saw what the webcam was capturing - her wet sex glistening over the soiled pillow, her chest heaving up and down as she panted, tired from such vigorous activity. She daintily ran her pinky finger up her slit, scooping up her juices, then licked it clean with a seductive grin, garnering some attention in her chatroom. She had grown accustomed to her own taste - she was sticky and sloppy and slightly sweet, not delicious, but tasty in an amusing sort of way. Still smiling, she scooped her finger across her oozing sex one more, this time allowing it to smear on her lower lip as she sucked her finger clean. Giggling girlishly, she glanced at her chatroom:

"centrality: wow ur really cute when you eat your own cum ;)

cowgirlguy: i bet youd give great head

jackass23: shes hot dam"

She had been getting more comfortable with the level of decorum in these chats - some of the guys said demeaning, degrading things, and she was willing to ban them if they went too far, but for the most part, she had come to enjoy the attention. Her audience wanted sexual release, and she freely offered herself up as an object of that pursuit. If she was objectified, well, that was sort of the whole point. In a way, this was almost better than politeness - it was deeply reassuring to know that these people wanted her in a sexual context, even when they were tactless enough to say it outright.

Of course, her power was doing the heavy lifting. That kind of put a damper on the whole situation.

She glanced at the clock in the bottom-right corner of her screen. 5:15. Her dad would be home in just over forty-five minutes

"OK, guys," she said. "I'm going to be logging off pretty soon, and I'm not going to be active for the next week or two, so I want to stage a grand finale. Any requests?"

The chatroom exploded.

"lonelyrobot: stick a dildo in ur ass

leprechaun: finger your ass

draconic: can you find a guy to fuck you?

voidcowboy: how many fingers do you think you can get in your cunt?

rhinoguy: deepthroat a dildo

thewingedone: Maybe something more psychological?

degenerate: good old dirty talking, maybe sum ass play"

She smiled. A lot of these ideas were hot . . . really hot, if she was honest with herself. Unfortunately, she didn't own a dildo yet - she hadn't wanted to order one online, since that would be much more difficult to play off to her dad, so she had decided to go into a sex store sometime and get hooked up then. She also hadn't prepared for any anal play, so she wasn't cleaned up down there, although the thought of doing it sometime in the near future got her pretty excited. Taking these limitations into account, she began to put a plan together.

First, she pressed a "record" button on her screen. Since she wouldn't be able to cam again until the next weekend came, she wanted to leave some material available to maintain her fanbase. Luckily, the site allowed her to record sections of her stream to decorate her profile page. Her power didn't seem to work through prerecorded media, so she would still have to condition any new audience members, but this would hopefully help them get through (and get off through) the week.

She squared up to the laptop, spreading her legs and leaning back on their arms so that the camera had a great view of her cunt and face. She plunged the third and fourth fingers of her right hand deep into her pussy, her previous session having served to lubricate her sufficiently well. Her hand began to move frantically, up and down, in and out, and she masturbated furiously. She brought her left hand up to pinch at her clit, then allowed it to move on until it was pulling at her breasts and tweaking her nipples. Down below, her index finger made its way toward her slit as she adjusted her grip to accommodate it, her fingers forming a vertical plane. She whimpered with pleasure, feeling her fingers pushing maddeningly against the walls of her pussy. Then her left hand moved again, drifting over her chest and fluttering over her neck. She pushed a finger into her mouth, suckling it to the base, her lips forming a tight seal around its perimeter. High-pitched squeaks came from her throat - she didn't open her mouth, but the sound was still clearly audible. A couple of minutes passed like this, with Taylor brutally hammering her pussy with three fingers, sucking intently on an index finger. Her meager tits bounced up and down in the rhythm of her body, her entire being radiating sexuality. She struggled to keep her head level - she wanted to tilt it back and cry out, but she resisted the urge, maintaining eye contact with the camera. Her lewd noises continuously escalated in volume until a moan escaped her lips, her mouth cracking open and a thin trail of drool running down her chin and onto her chest. She tried to fit a fourth finger into her slit, her pinky, which immediately triggered another suggestive moan - her pussy wasn't long enough, and her index finger was already smushed up against her clit, so there was simply no room left for a fourth finger. Still, the effort seemed to stimulate her, and she was forced to plug up her mouth with another two fingers. Instead of trying to fit her pinky in her pink, she started to run it back and forth along the thin bridge of smooth skin between her pussy and her asshole. All the while, she kept pounding her fingers relentlessly in and out, flexing them at the knuckle to stimulate herself as intensely as possible.

She glanced at herself on the screen of her laptop, displayed like a wanton slut, and her lips twitched upward. Of all of the things her body was doing, there was one thing in particular that caught her eye - the way her thick curls framed her head, reaching down just below her shoulders before quickly thinning out. She had a brief moment of introspection, wondering how she became so comfortable with presenting herself in this way for strangers over the course of only a week, but that thought was quickly washed away by overwhelming pleasure. Nothing was wrong, nothing could be wrong if it felt this incredible. The light touch of her fingers on her inner wall, the way her body moved in sync, the stretch of her jaw to accommodate her fingers, the way her drool ran down her breasts, the thrill of exhibitionism - it all tied together into one earth-shattering orgasm. The speed of her thrusts increased even further, she shoved her fingers deep down her throat, and her body began to shake, overtaken completely by base pleasure. She gagged lightly on her fingers, and suddenly she couldn't maintain eye contact - she threw her head back, eyes fluttering delightfully as the orgasm began to subside. She still couldn't hear her own moans, but she didn't doubt that they were there, and that they were loud. Her fingers stopped pumping in and out. She extracted them and lifted her tired arm so that her fingers were at her mouth, where she licked her juices off of her hand for the fifth time that day - it was something of a signature move, really. Still smiling, still with a half-crazed look in her eye, she pulled her knees backward and swung her torso around, so that she was kneeling facing the camera, head directly above the puddle left by her pussy. Neck craned upward, she began to lap it up like a kitten, keeping her eyes focused directly on the camera. She glanced again at the clock. 5:28. She was making good time.

Ass up and face down, she cleaned her cum off of her blankets until all that was left was a wet spot. She reached her right hand absently behind her and started to fondle herself, for her own benefit rather than for her audience. It was a fine balance between enjoying herself and sating her audience - it helped that she got off on trying to get the balance correct, but there was still an art to it.

She pushed her shoulders downward so that she was resting on a forearm, head pointed naturally at the camera, ass still raised high. She opened her mouth in a whorish "O", brought her her right arm up, then whipped it down with some force, feeling her open palm crack on her ass. Sticking a tongue out lewdly, she slowly spanked herself, establishing a slow, seductive rhythm. Right, pause, left, pause, right, pause. Only once the routine had been established did she begin to speak.

"I hope I've helped - " she was cut off by a loud smack, and her eyes squeezed tightly as she let out a girlish gasp. Opening her eyes and shuddering, she began again " - you guys get off. I - " smack " - love helping you cum." Smack. "I wish you were all here, that way - " smack " - I could help more. Do you want that?" Smack. "I wish I could suck all of your cocks. I wish - " smack " - I could feel your big - " smack " - throbbing - " smack " - dicks in my hand. You could fuck me, if you wanted." Smack. "Just pick up my tight teen body and throw - " smack " - me on the bed, take me like I'm yours. Fuck my ass, yeah?" Smack. "Fucking pound my ass, make me take it like a good girl. Do you want that?" Smack. "I want that. I want that so bad."

Taylor bit her lower lip, her eyes shining bright due to the pain. She started smacking double time, almost once a second, occasionally letting out a playful shriek when her spank came a little harder than intended.

She removed her left arm from beneath her, resting entirely on her neck and shoulders, to run a finger across her pussy. She didn't stick it in - she didn't want another orgasm that intense - but its contact added to her stimulation, and she saw her face flush on the screen. The clock showed that she still had a few minutes left, so she returned to her slower spanking speed, sticking her tongue out and giving long, breathy pants. Occasionally she would lick her lips, or tuck her tongue back inside to bulge her cheek, simulating a blowjob. She spent a few minutes like this, unconsciously playing with herself, smacking her ass and panting like an eager slut. When the clock read 5:40 she stopped, turning around and sitting up so that her cherry-red ass rested lightly above her soft heels. She shook her ass side-to-side, resisting the urge to scratch, then sat in a normal position, facing the camera and putting a finger on her pussy for effect.

"I hope you guys enjoyed that little show!," she said with a wink. "I know I did. I'm going to log off now, so I'll see you next week. Bye!" She ended the recording and then the stream, letting out a satisfied sigh. 5:43, two minutes ahead of schedule. Now for the housekeeping.

First things first, she pinned the recording to her profile page, licking her lips subconsciously as she did so. She hadn't planned to address her viewers like that, begging them to come in and fuck her. She supposed that she wouldn't be opposed - she was a virgin, but her hymen was broken, and she wasn't in any way sexually innocent. In fact, though it hardly seemed possible given her personality in real life, her online persona was downright slutty. She supposed that that was what she enjoyed about camming: the freedom of it. She was free to act without consequences, free to enjoy her sexuality, for the benefit of people who enjoyed it just as much.

She had realized, at some point in the week, that some fraction of her audience was made up of girls, and she was surprised to realize that she didn't enjoy them any less. She didn't really have them in mind while performing, although they liked the same sort of stuff, so it wasn't really a big deal, but the idea of being personally intimate with another woman was hot. She hadn't been bisexual before, she was sure, so this had to be an effect of her power.

That train of thought wrapped itself up rather neatly just as the video finished uploading. Next up, messages.

There were one, two, three . . . a lot of dick pics. Way too many. Those, she immediately deleted.

Some angry PMs from other camgirls. It seemed that site politics did not favor the up-and-newcomers, as some smaller streams seemed to take great offense to her meteoric rise. Some of the lines were choice: "A plain bitch like you can only get views by acting like a whore, I'm sure." "I hope you get fucked by a dog." The first few times she had been surprised, but now she just thought it was funny. Inevitably, these streamers ended up actually watching her stream, hoping to steal the magic, and then her power would get to work on them. These girls were petty and catty and full of shit, but they couldn't really do anything to her without watching her stream, so they couldn't hurt her in any tangible way.

There was one sincere message, from a streamer named "ggfan69." Taylor recognized the name - she was a petite blonde girl who did a lot of Glory Girl roleplay. It was kind of creepy, but having seen the real Glory Girl, Taylor at least understood the appeal. This girl lived in Brockton Bay, according to her, and was just 19 years old - older than Taylor, but still pretty young in the grand scheme of things. She was too short to pass as Glory Girl, and her hair was a bit too close to platinum, but she was very pretty all the same, with inward-tilted features than made her look perpetually curious.

The message's tagline read "sent 2 minutes ago." Taylor opened it.

"Hey girl! Just wanted to tell you that the stream you just finished was superrrrr hot - I came like three times watching it lol. Anyway, it's too bad that you're not going to be streaming next week - I was kind of hoping we could try to meet up and do a stream together. Us Brockton Bay girls got to stick together, right? Idk if you're into girls but if so, do you want to maybe coordinate schedules? We could maybe figure out a time to meet up and stream together?

Love you xoxo,

Sadie"

Taylor still had a few minutes before her dad arrived, so she clicked on "Sadie's" profile. To her surprise, the other girl was currently streaming. Clicking on the stream, it made a little more sense to Taylor - the other girl was basically sitting naked in front of her camera, playing with her pussy with one hand and browsing with the other. Lots of other girls did this full-time, Taylor knew, so if they weren't doing anything, it made sense for them to just get naked in front of the camera and do whatever they were already planning on doing, especially since the site's algorithm also favored girls who streamed more.

Hot as Sadie was, Taylor still had other things to do. Namely, she had to shower, to make sure that Danny didn't smell the sex on her. It was a five-minute affair, in and out and into regular clothes in the blink of an eye. She signed out of her account, cleared her history and closed her laptop, sure that her dad wasn't tech-savvy enough to find her account even if he knew where to look. She also made a mental note to message Sadie back about that meetup - she wasn't totally sold, and she didn't know how their schedules would align, but it did sound kind of hot.

Her work done for the day, Taylor began to pack for the next. Her teachers had been instructed to email her any homework they assigned while she was gone, and half of them had actually done it - for each of those classes, she had a neat pile of loose-leaf papers held together by a binder clip, a week's worth of homework per class. She packed her backpack neatly - she didn't expect that it would help matters, but it was meditative in a way, making the experience seem less chaotic and more under control.

About a minute later, she heard the garage door opening. It was Danny, bearing Mexican takeout in a bag. Both Danny and Taylor loved Mexican takeout, but they hated eating it, because they knew what it represented. It meant Danny was absolutely exhausted from a long day at work and would pass out on his bed within the next hour.

This was no exception - by 7:30, Danny was unconscious. He would be up at five the next morning, he would wake Taylor before leaving for work, and he would probably repeat the same routine.

With her dad asleep, Taylor would probably have been able to get away with streaming, but she wasn't comfortable doing it with Danny in the house, and besides, she had ended on a high note.

Taylor turned in early as well - she was in bed by ten. There was no more preparation to be done, no more excuses to be made, no way at all to avoid the issue, and somehow that comforted Taylor.

She would be back at school tomorrow.

A/N: Not sure why, this just popped into my head and I wrote it in one go. Any thoughts are appreciated!