"Aww, look Lida, she's waking up . . . She always looks so adorable when she's just waking up . . . Somewhere around fifteen though, she got far too serious, stopped falling asleep in front of me much anymore . . ." Susan's voice breaks through my sleepy fog, and my whole body slowly starts to squirm.

In the back of my mind there's a temptation to tell Susan about Lida's "incest is best when Sarah is too melted to say yes" policy, but I wouldn't dream about actually giving in. Susan is way to normal, especially for a lesbian who had a witch's child. Telling her what Lida did would only cause chaos and in the end . . . it was probably the best thing that Lida could have done to help me feel better in any genuine, long lasting way.

The times that my mind has always felt the most "solid" is when it's been under someone else's control. Love without control may be something beyond my understanding anymore . . . Lida loves me. If for some odd reason being touched and tranced by her would hurt, she wouldn't have. I understand her far too much to think otherwise.

Susan might have raised me, but I took far too much after Lida.

"Nnn . . . Morning . . ." Somehow I'm curled up on the couch and my face is resting on Lida's soft lap. Shifting my head, to glance up, I can see Lida's silver painted nails slowly tracing through my hair. Her eyes are twinkling, so silver, and so beautiful. Around her neck, and resting between her once again clothed breasts is a beautiful silver teardrop pendant on an intricate, rope-styled silver cord. Even that far from her face, it seems to catch the twinkle from her eyes. "At least I hope it's finally morning . . ."

Susan and Lida both laugh, slowly, and at least Lida shakes her head in amusement. No doubt, Susan is too. They really are cutely alike. "Yes, Sarah, it's morning . . . And a very, very special morning too! You've always been bad about dates, but I think all of this heart trouble has only . . ."

Trying hard as I can, I can't stop the tears from forming.

This birthday won't be with Dust, Pink, or The Lady. This birthday will be my first as a powerless, deformed girl with increasing heart strain. There'll be no sparking till I pass out this year.

My stay in the hospital must have been longer than it seemed. There should be a week at least before I turn twenty five . . .

"Oh Lucia . . . Don't cry my little girl. We're going to make this a very special birthday. Besides that we'll be going to a delightfully exquisite Italian restaurant and getting the most adorable waitresses to sing for you, I have a present for you that I think you'll just love . . ." Either Lida's very essence is set to "mischievous" or that grin might just be naughty.

As long as it's not a rod I'm sure I'll love it.

My eyes start to dry up a little, and I nestle more into Lida. It’s hard not to savor a long slow inhale, but that would definitely not be a good thing. It would however be forbiddenly delicious . . . but I can resist that lure. I hope.

"If you got her a just barely legal pure blooded Italian girl Lida, I just might have to hurt you." Susan’s voice sounds playfully sarcastic in a delightful way that says she believes it could be a possibility.

Nice as it would be, that sounds a lot more like a present for a thirtieth or fortieth birthday.

Huffing, Lida reaches for the coffee table and slips on her designer shades. "Oh please dearheart, if Lucia wanted one of those, she could get one of them on her own with hardly any expended effort. This is my daughter we are talking about, isn’t it? Why . . . just an intending glance and any fair maiden’s knees would weaken and gel! Italian women having exceptional taste, such as yourself my dear Susan, a glance of our own daughter’s beauty, her aura of experience . . . Those tarts would be begging to merely be a thing to glance at or touch, much less to be taken on as a lover!"

My cheeks burn, and lazily I raise up my hands to hide my face. Having the ability to turn invisible would be wondrous about now. I envy Silhouette and Nightshade both. "Let’s stop embarrassing me, please? I need a shower, and a change of clothes . . . Then, well . . . I feel like doing more than sitting around feeling sorry for myself. How’s that sound?"

Susan and Lida laugh again, and I can’t help but laugh right along with them. "That sounds wonderful, Sarah. Lida and I fell asleep too not long after you did, so it actually is rather close to noon. You can go wash up, and I’ll bring you in a change of clothes. And happy birthday, my special little girl!"

Arms wrap around me from above, two sets, and I nestle more into Lida with a warm sigh. This, is bliss. I have a real family now for the first time in my life. I feel so . . . complete. Even if once I leave I never see either of them ever again, I knew what it was like to have a family, to feel savored and loved for more than just an object of sex, more than just an object of romance or any other desire . . . I feel so complete, except for a growing desire to make such a feeling for a daughter of my own.

Of course, there’s just a bit of guilt for what happened with Lida . . . but otherwise . . .

Yawning, my body stretches out like a cat’s. The sharp snap of pain in my chest reminds me that taking my medication might be a good idea. Maybe, just a little.

As if reading my mind, Susan shakes the bottle of pills right next to my ear. "These first, then the suds."

Wincing, I nod with a sigh.

How could I ever hope to protect the Innocent when running to catch a bus might make my heart burst from my chest? "Sounds good mom . . . Sounds good . . ."

The warm water beats hard against my body, and I’ve never been more thankful for mom still having the old fashioned style showerhead. Water conservation doesn’t mater if it affects my bathing. I need hot, hard, merciless water pounding my pores clean.

Having so much pale skin still feels awkward and depressing but at least it feels more like mine. Lida’s skin is almost my exact tone, except for her silver nipples.

Just thinking about them makes mine tighten and my thighs clench. That’s bad. She’s my mother . . . Susan and Lida are the cutest couple . . .

Ever since I met Dust the way I think about things has really changed.

Good and evil used to be so much more distinct even though I’d like to think that I saw the world in shades of silver and gray. Social taboo used to hold a lot more weight in a way that didn’t make me moan. My body and mind have been used so much to the point that now looking back the actual acts don’t leave me with the same dirty feeling, only the sentiment does.

For awhile, I was one of those villainous antiheroes, recruiting the helpless. Can I say, in all honesty, that I was any different than the women who used me? Where was the line between what was me, and what was The Lady’s control?

"No . . . You’re turning twenty five today. The big two-five. No spending today thinking about worrying things . . . No . . . Today is about good things. Good things . . ." My own voice helps me center myself. No self inflicted depressions today, only happiness and a chance of debauchery.

Happy thoughts like how smooth and firm, how soft and sweet Pink’s body always was. A few times after Yanta’s terror put some of Chronos’s games on hold, I’d gotten my hands on her. She might have been more dangerous than she’d seemed, but she was always safer than Dust.

If only because with Pink, I had a very unfair advantage of range.

That first time after Yanta springs to the front of my mind and I slide my hand down the front of my body in time with it. Showers always make me think of Pink, and Pink has always been fond of mindless indulgence . . .

The Lady has no new hire appointments today. That means that Pink has no receptionist duties besides sitting in her desk looking pretty. She’s been a real sweetheart to, like Dust, not go after me while I’ve been recovering. Some of the damage Yanta inflicted didn’t go away immediately, but I’m fine. Windy and The Lady both have put in a lot of time to make my head nice and solid again.

Pink even brought me some candy that only made me a little giggly. She even let me just hug her and smile like an idiot. Not giving her some attention in return would be like I didn’t appreciate her affection.

Just for the occasion, when I woke up this morning I put on my dark green skirt and my tight purple blouse that was just thin and flowing enough, with the slightest little bit of sleeves and low dipping cleavage. Until I’m fully recovered going on patrol like She promised I could would be dangerous . . . but that doesn’t mean I can’t look and feel good before I’m well again. The black boots with just enough heel and just enough length are in no way overkill.

Feeling sexy makes me feel deliciously powerful - and that’s something I like to feel a lot even though I savor the loss of it too.

Walking up to the elevator I adjust my bra just enough to help with the view she’ll have of my shimmering silver cleavage. Even if she doesn’t look too closely, I want to know Pink’s mind is at least a little bit tied up in my tits.

Pink . . . Sometimes I wonder if her name is really - or really used to be - Tiffany. It’s not much different either way, but it does make me fairly curious.

Soon I'm on my way up to the 100th floor, and each time the lit number gets higher I grin a little more. The feeling is a lot like a little girl getting closer and closer to her favorite candy shop, only this little girl is horny as hell, and the candy shop is far too sexy for children.

Pink was probably the most adorable little girl in the history of adorable little girls. In my mind the image of little Pink (little Tiffany?) has her hair up in pigtails and even still wore that pink and white schoolgirl uniform - though a smaller size.

Finally, the elevator dings and the doors open. Every time the elevator opens, a part of me remembers the way Dust's lipstick tasted. Every time I keep swearing I'll get some silver to return the favor, but something, or rather someone, always makes me forget.

Forgetting is something I've gotten very good at.

Without a moment of hesitation I step out of the elevator and into the reception room. Over behind her computer, Pink is click, clack, clicking away on something or another. If her dollies were good at typing, I could imagine Pink spending a good chunk of her day instant messaging them about their pink brains.

Sometimes I wonder how The Lady recruited Dust and Pink. They seem such an integral part of this place that it's hard to imagine Chronos without the bimbo crayon and the devil may care Goth.

"Hey there Candy Girl . . ." No nickname feels as fitting for a girl who really does taste like candy. She even tastes like the best candy - the kind with far too much sugar and artificial flavoring to the point that Bacchus and Juventus would both be pleasantly delighted. "Working too hard?"

"Mmm, doesn't feel like work with candy between my eyes!" As always her voice sounds like it belongs to someone at least ten years younger than her, probably around the age of five. She is right though, not much feels like work when just trying to remember your first name is mindless sugar sweet bliss.

For just a second I'm tempted to ask her for a lolly, but that's not why I'm here at all. "I have a surprise for you, my favorite little pink haired cutie . . ."

"Ooo! I like surprises!" Her voice is extra giddy, so I'm sure that she's hitting the syrup again. There's nothing wrong with that, and the younger she looks in spirit, the yummier she gets in absolutely every way.

Something about how helplessly silly she is makes my thighs clench and dampen. This of course has nothing to do with my curiosity for just how pink she really is. It might be fun to spark her into believing her name was Tiffany while keeping her ditzed up, and treat her like a normal, sweet little girl. Slowly, I slide my hand behind my back before making a few sparks slide from my fingertips. Sure, I can make them come out from anywhere, but I have practice with my hands. Plus it makes me feel sexier to do it like this.

Anything worth doing is worth doing with a fair amount of style.

"Open your mouth and close your eyes, get ready for a big surprise!" After a fair amount of giggles, Pink closes her eyes with her mouth open wide followed by a loud "aaaaah!" sound. "Cute . . ."

I pull my hand out, and shove two sparked fingers inside of her mouth. The electrical charge tightens her lips around my finger and she moans as I open up the current. The taste to me was always metallic and sharp like a version of a taste too sour, but just sensation, just pleasure, just every perfect taste and glory and just thinking of it reminds me of the habit of sucking my thumb before sleeping that I reacquired around the age of thirteen.

Her whole body withers towards me, and my fingers feel decidedly coated in pink and saliva. Some of that saliva slides out of the corner of her mouth, and her eyes are closed just as tight as her lips.

My other hand raises up to stroke her adorable pink hair, and draw her sweetly closer. The wheels of her chair make their cute little rolling sound, but soon she's leaning over the counter with her head rested on my chest. Her gentle warmth helps the flush raising to my cheek double. Each time she lets out a stifled mewl it triples.

Being extra careful not to draw out my fingers too soon I raise Pink's head just enough to slowly pull open the buttons of my blouse. Maybe Dust is a bad influence, or maybe I'm just learning that there's no reason not to take advantage of a good situation. As the conditioned air slowly slides over my exposed flesh I quiver and pull Pink closer.

Anything feels cold when your flesh feels this hot.

I let Pink's face rest against my chest again as I reach back one handed to snap open my bra. Just thinking about those pink lips of hers wrapped tightly as they are now makes my nipples ache. After those hooks pop loose it's just one shoulder, then the other, and as my bra falls onto the counter I lead her lips and pull back my fingers. Just a single arching trail of silver and her lips latch better than any rooting instinct could ever have accomplished. Her lips suckle and my nipple keeps sparking, making her suckle harder, and making my knees weaken. It feels so good to be nursed like this, to feel the sparks being suckled out, making her body tremble, making her moan through sealed lips . . . My thighs are already feeling slick, and each time I rub my thighs against each other it's harder and harder not to let out a cry louder than my moans.

"Goddess, I should have done this when I first met you . . . Mmm . . .!" Slowly I slide my wet fingers down and under my skirt, rubbing them into my already soaking panties as my other hand pulls Pink tighter against me.

Pink's saliva makes my fingers feel even better, so much better, and I can feel it coating the thin fabric more the harder I rub. Every moment is hotter, and hotter, and hotter, but . . .

If doing similar enough to Yanta made her brain pop like it did, just snap, not be made helpless but really snap . . . I can't risk doing that to Pink. She's like a sister, a crush, and so much more all in one conveniently bright packaged piece of candy. Reluctantly I ease the sparking and her lips loosen but don't stop suckling. The gentler suckling elicits its own delightful reaction from the hypersensitive flesh as I finally lose the battle to hold back that cry.

It feels so good, so perfect, so hot, so . . . but I still don't know what I came here to know. It's time for her and I to both get our real presents, and for me to get some dessert.

As much as it makes me ache and yearn for the touches to come back as quick as they left, I pull Pink's face away and lovingly kiss her forehead. "Now sweetheart, its time to sit back for Silver, and spread those pretty legs of yours . . . Just bask in that silver glow, the taste in your mouth and . . . Mmm . . . I still can't quite believe I'm doing this . . ."

Obedient as would be expected for being filed with so much silver, Pink flops back into her chair, and her legs spread apart with a lazy sort of grace that makes her look so adorably young.

Even better yet, she encapsulates all of the attractive, thigh heating qualities of youth without any of the baggage of being a youth. With her mind silvered to oblivion, she really doesn't have any baggage at all, just obedience and arousal.

Her body slouches back into her chair, and the wheels make a satisfying squeak as they slide back. Pink's adorably creamy legs part and I hop onto her desk before sliding off to stand right in front of her. She's helpless, and if she'd had the idea, she would have done it to me first. I'd probably just beaten her to the punch.

"I want you, Pink . . . and I'm going to have you . . ." Pink only makes a soft whimpery moan of agreement or surrender. Its hard to tell which, but that doesn't stop me from sliding down to my knees and pressing up her cute little schoolgirl skirt. Underneath is a lacy, wet, and very pink thong. It's just barely enough fabric to hide her pussy away from my eyes, but that won't last long.

I hook my fingers under the damp cloth and hold it off to the side before just giving myself a chance to stare. She's so . . . pink. Her lips are flush and warm to the feel of mine, and quiver deliciously to my tongue, but inside of her is as pink as her lips in the most perfect way.

If I've ever done this before, or she ever lowered herself down onto me, I was always already too pinked to remember. This is a sight I'll never forget, her clenching, dripping, flushed pink pussy just yearning for my tongue as I tease it closer to her slit . . . It tastes like her lips too, not as strong, at least not the lips, but I . . . I know this is a bad idea, but I can't resist. Bad impulse control is always getting the better of me.

Giving in, I slide my tongue slowly up along her slit, teasing her flesh, and groaning at the taste, texture, and thoughts bubbling and fizzing in my brain. She's so pink, so hot, so sweeeet and just tasting her makes my whole body quiver and giggle. I can feel little giggles in my head as I tongue at her clit, and her whimpers and mewls only make the giggles louder and louder.

My eyes close as I lap and nibble, body writhing with a hand still between my legs making me feel so giggly sweet. Everything is so hawt and pink and giggly sweet, its better than I ever could have imagined!

The flesh under my mouth keeps shuddering and above me a voice keeps squealing and moaning, but down here I'm only a mouth. I need to taste her, I need to feel her, neeed and its so giggly, so silly!

It all makes such perfect sense, suckling, nibbling and moaning against her clit as my mind giggles and laughs and purrs at the delicious helplessness. Its more than I ever could have wanted, giggling and moaning forever!

My pussy giggles and clenches hard around my fingers, and the giggles in my head only get louder and louder as I start to get dizzy. Everything feels like its moving, and it feels like I'm falling into her pussy the more I nibble and lick and suck, fuck fuck fuck! Need more of Pink's pretty pink pussy, want to be so pretty, pink, and giggly inside, want to be hawt and melty foreeever!

Pink screams out with a sharp cry, a pretty sound, no words, just a hot sound in the distance, and the river of pink is just tooo much, the giggles are just too strong and I nuzzle more against her, resting against her, fingers slowing between my pretty twitchy thighs as everything just feels better and better and . . .

"Fuuuck . . ." My mothers could be just in the next room, so I know I have to be quiet, but masturbating to some of my memories just gets me way too hot! It'll never happen again, but being that giggly, that stupid, that turned on, it was so perfect, so . . .

Even if I used to use sparks to get off, I sure as hell don't need them when I'm burning up. The water is still hot against my body and I'm thankful the water has always stayed hot far too long here. Here, in the shower I used to masturbate in when my pubic hair between trimmings started to turn silver . . .

My fingers are pruned, and they haven't spent nearly enough time in the water for that. My body can't stop shaking and my thighs can't stop clenching harder and harder. Just how easy it would be for Susan to walk in and see my silhouette's fingers pounding between my legs only adds an extra thrill to it. A part of me would love that beyond words.

Maybe then I'd be able to live out that fantasy Mind Bore forced into me. It would be so hot to just be used by my mother, to have just been made for this sole purpose . . . The thought makes my clit pulse even harder and my nipples ache.

The door opens, and I almost scream. My teeth have been closed around my bottom lip since I first started stroking the lower pair, but that might not be enough if I don't stop touching myself. Susan isn't like Lida and me. She's normal, she's sane, she's not full of incestuous, twisted, and dark urges that make a mind snap and buckle with desire and lust.

Mom steps closer to the shower curtain and makes a brief stop by the sink to drop down a change of clothes. I want to stop, I need to stop, but no matter what I try to do, my fingers just won't stop.

It could be Mind Bore's influence my own twisted lack of inhibitions, or maybe I just really want to fuck my mom. Would that be such a surprise coming from me?

A silhouetted hand opens up the shower curtain . . . and it's Lida. Her own clothes are gracefully pooled at her feet, and her sunglasses are nowhere to be seen. She has a perfect olive complexion, just tan enough in all of the right places, all of the right curves, with those silver nipples, and the dew from her flushed lower lips seems to match.

"I asked Susan if I could do the honors, after all, she's had so much more time with you that I haven't . . . And I wanted to give you part of the birthday present I had planned . . ." Lida slides a slender leg into the shower, and tenderly places her hands onto my waist to pull me close.

My hand is trapped between us, still rubbing, still caressing, and my whole body melts against her curves. "I . . . Lida . . ." Her eyes sparkle with a darkly mischievous glint, and I know that this isn't even the half of what she had in mind.

"You might have had stronger sparks back when you had them . . . But I've had a lifetime perfecting my magic . . . and a much longer lifetime than it would look, but don't start guessing . . ." Lida's lips shine silver for just a moment and very lightly press against mine.

Her lips feel so cool and yet so warm and passionate. She's so warm, so perfect, I almost don't even realize that something about her kiss tingles some part of the back of my mind. An image flashes in my closed eyes for just a second, but then its gone.

"How did you kn-"

A hand pulls mine away, and then takes its place, rubbing and stroking as her body presses mine just so against the wall, grinding my nipples into hers. "Because sweetheart, you didn't just turn completely silver for show . . . It was our power making your body better at conducting and guiding it . . . You must have noticed the more silver you became, the easier to control your powers were . . ."

Lida has a point . . . "Then why aren't you all shiny . . .?" She grinds more against me, fingers finding my tender spots in just the way to make my legs quake. "I mean, I . . . Oooh . . . Know there are some downsides to being silver but . . . I . . . You . . ."

"Don't seem like the type to pass up the family pride, much less the power?" Her lips shine again for just a moment before she leans forward and nibbles on my ear, grinding her chest harder into mine. "Mmm, because my precious little Lucia . . . You were able to turn fully silver because you are the one our family's legends tell of . . . a LaSilvas who can fully embrace her heritage . . . It only happens once in many an age, and the last was quite some time ago . . ."

My body hums and pulses with her touch, and I can feel the smaller sparks that just make my body tingle and my nerves react. If it's not used right, sparks can't just fry a mind. I really was getting good at using them. Before The Lady had me start using them like that, I never even had, and just before I lost them . . .

"You are very special . . . and I would think that even if I didn't believe there was a way for you to get your sparks back . . ." Her other hand cups the small of my back, and her lips nibble more over my ear. All I can do is arch and melt into her touches, almost on the edge of the orgasm I'd been building up towards before she joined me.

"I . . . Nnnnaaa, Lida . . . 'm just a wannabe heroine, powerless, getting old . . . More of a waitress really than a heroine . . ." Her fingers pinch my pearl just enough to make me gasp as sharply as I can and press tighter against her. "Caaa-aaan't be that special anymoore . . .!"

A spark slides from her fingertip and her thumb at the same time and my knees give out. Her arm holds me up against her but all I can feel is the spasaming, the shuddering, the hot wet bliss of my whole body melting out of m pussy as my toes curl so hard it feels like they're going to break off. "Liiiida!"

The world is just an eternity of small, gentle sparks massaging all over me, filling me, holding me, kissing me, everywhere and nowhere at once. Its perfect, sweet, loving, and so hot . . . "Lucia . . . It doesn't take silver light to make the world a better place . . . You can do it one way or another . . . and you're my daughter, you have to be special . . ."

How the water is still warm, I have no clue. Unless Lida has paused time again, Susan had a deity installed for a water heater. With how erotically perfect the world feels right now, I'll admit neither would surprise me.

Once my body stops shaking she slowly helps lower me down to half sit half lay back against the far wall of the shower My eyes slowly flutter open to look up at Lida, but I feel different, things seem different . . .

Slowly I look down at my legs, spread and still lightly twitching, and I notice why. My legs are silver! my feet are silver, all of my skin, all of the hair I need to trim between my legs, the hair that's obscuring my vision, my juices, everything . . .!

"How . . .?" I look up to Lida's eyes as she slowly kneels down in font of me and gazes over my body with a hungry and loving look. Something about that look makes me feel safer than any look has ever made me feel before in my life. "How am I . . .?"

"Simple . . ." Lida snaps her fingers, and miniature sparks rain out from her fingers. "Magic. I can't make you silver again, and I can't break Yanuka's enchantment, but I can give us this one gift. Your appearance right now is from your own memory of being silver. It can't last long . . . but I wanted to give it to you. There's still a present I can give you in front of your mother, but . . . This is half a gift for me."

Her cheeks nuzzle up against my thighs , and in just a moment I feel like I'm in pink's place. "Oh . . .?"

"Mmm . . . I have always, always wanted to know how a silver sex would taste, my little Lucia . . . so lay back . . . and be pampered as a sweet silver goddess until the spell wears off . . ."

As soon as her sparked silvery lips hit my own I scream and know we have to be removed from time. Its too good, its too perfect . . . and her words ring in my ears as the pleasure makes my whole body ring.

A pep talk and some of the best sex I've ever had . . . the perfect twenty fifth birthday presents . . .!