Powerpuff Girls Porn Story: Sidekick

The cool steel stung her knees and palms. The scorching lava beyond the steel never felt so hot before. She never considered how the steam burned, making her eyes shut against the heat. Now that she was backed into a corner she felt mortal and powerless, even though Chemical X still danced in her veins. His brimming eyes passed over her. The decision weighed hard on her chest, like the scales Buttercup and Bubbles were balanced on.

No, Blossom! her sisters shouted and the Professor gave his own protest from under the tape.

From above, a malicious chuckle was rippling in the hollows of Mojo’s throat. His teeth glinted, pleased. Now pledge your allegiance!

Blossom shrunk under his voice. She hadn’t even given him her allegiance yet but she already felt like his servant.

I, Blossom Utonium, swear… The whole of her speech was drowned out by Mojo’s maniacal, joyous laughter and the, Yes. Yes YES! he screamed in-between.

After much crowing and the Utonium family’s shock, Mojo allowed Blossom to rescue the Professor. The redhead put a hand over the tape, then decided against removing it. She didn’t want to hear him begging her to break a promise just once, or the cries that would stifle his words. She glanced up quickly, avoiding his eyes, and embraced the Professor, never minding that he couldn’t return the affection with his hands tied.

I’ll… She hovered up towards the hole in the ceiling. I’ll go pack my things.

*~*

The pain was the freshest in her mind. She never felt so ripped apart, she never cried so hard as she did when she prowled around her previous residence that same night. She had peered in the window from the far left, the one closest to the bed, wondering if her sisters were crying or sleeping.

The two girls were curled up and clinging to each other in the middle of the bed– Blossom’s designated spot. The redhead unconsciously hugged the octopus plush in her arms. Bubbles had stopped by early that evening to give him to her.

Octi said he wanted to keep you company. No sooner than she gave away her most prized toy, she zipped away from Mojo’s doorstep, leaving Blossom lonelier despite the new comrade in her arms.

*~*

Living with Mojo wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, though it was grating when he attempted to tempt her with the glories they would enjoy as rulers of the world. Though that didn’t drive her up the wall as much as giving up crime fighting. She closed all the blinds first thing when she entered a room, not wishing to see her sisters out there– without her, struggling. She used to watch them from afar but it came to be too much one day when they were nearly at the end of their ropes and she thought she would burst if she didn’t help them. Just when she was roaring to burst through the window, they escaped the monster’s clutches, Bubbles told Buttercup something, and in one strike the menace was on the ground.

Still, even with the blinds lowered over the town, she could hear Townsville’s desperate cries, and she did go out once in awhile. She dreaded going out; it was harder to hold back her instincts when she couldn’t escape the carnage, and the guilt was worse with the citizen looking at her expectantly.

Mojo’s reaction to her body developing was the worst of living with him. She could feel his eyes trace the sensuous curves of her chest and further down. In turn, she felt her face grow red and the expanse between her legs flutter. He continued to watch her and she looked away, wearing the mask of apathy like she always did when he discussed his plans to destroy her sisters, plans that both disgusted and interested her. It became a game for her to find the flaw in his plan, and a bigger game to disguise her relief when she found the hole in his deviation.

But hiding how she felt for the simian and hiding the knowledge of his various downfalls were different. While she could flawlessly hide one, the other was etched across her face and whispering beneath her retorts.

Ho-how could you?! she shouted, wiping her lips and stumbling back.

How could I? Mojo reiterated, his voice growing higher on the word, I. I did it because I love you, which is to say I care about you more than I should. For you are my servant, my number two, and worst of all– a Powerpuff girl. Ex-Powerpuff Girl to be more exact, but Powerpuff no less–

Shut up! You’re just using me like you always do.

Ah, but you share these feelings, too.

Blossom furiously shook her head. Never. I would never. This will never happen again!

She would eat those words a month after. In the same place, it happened.

OOo

To Mojo Jojo,

You and Miss Blossom Utonium are invited to the annual dinner party for the Guild of Cataclysm. Him hopes to see you there Saturday at seven. The party will be at town hall.

Mojo handed Blossom the invitation after he read it aloud. The girl scarcely looked at it, her eyes meeting Mojo’s. He wore a agitated, nervous look, one that Blossom had realized he always wore when it came to matters of Him.

Though Him wasn’t what made Blossom worry about this annual party. She had tagged along with Mojo to these parties over the years since she was six, and had yet to become used to the foes she had beaten and thrown in jail making small talk with her.

I’ll need a new dress. I grew out of the one from last year.

Mojo retrieved the invitation from her and set it on the counter. Very well. Shall we go shopping?

She shrugged. Surprise me. She didn’t care enough about these parties to fret about her outfit. Mojo grinned at her response and the girl glared. Nothing sleazy.

Mojo’s smile deflated a bit as he reached for his wallet.

*~*

A week late, Blossom was sitting in front of the vanity mirror, hands drawing up strands of curled red hair and bobby pins tucked between her lips. She twisted a strand then quickly retrieved a bobby pin to keep it in place. A knock drew her attention from her appearance. Come in.

Mojo slowly opened the door and stepped behind Blossom. The girl noticed a flicker of red shimmering in his arms: her dress.

Set it on the bed, please. I’m almost ready.

Through the mirror, Blossom watched him look at the dress, then her, and the dress again as he set it down. She sighed, expecting him to take his cue to leave, and then froze when his hands touched her shoulders. He drew a path down her back, smoothly pulling away the large white towel– the only barrier between him and her naked body. Feeling the cool air hit her nipples, Blossom whirled her head around, flustered and violated. She raised her hand to punch him, but his lips distracted her. She clenched her eyes and pulled back, but he grabbed the back of her head and pushed her forwards.

She resisted herself more than Mojo, tight-lipped against the moans brimming in her throat. Hate, lust… it all boiled inside of her. He took her by her sides and spun her around, slamming her back first into the bed, on top of the dress that started it all.

Blossom was catching her breath, bewildered, eyes drawn up to the ceiling as she considered bursting through it for escape. She heard the rustling of clothes from across the bed and before long Mojo was on his knees, moving over her petite frame. She dodged the kiss but he moved the attack towards her breast, nipping her for good measure. She squealed, and consciously clenched her thighs together. She felt the tip of his arousal against the curly hairs framing her sex, then bent her knees to shield herself.

Please. She stared at the ceiling. She wanted to zip through it so badly, though her body craved more of his touch. She was split in two, her id and superego playing tug of war and the ego vacant. Her reasoning never felt so far away.

He pawed her cheek tenderly, then he bit and sucked her breasts. His fingers grazed the niche between her legs, restricted by her thighs pressed together. He growled with frustration, mouthing words that reiterated layer upon layers of sentences, then lifted her legs up. She gaped realizing he had found an opening. She squirmed restlessly, intending to squirrel away. Mojo pressed his member against her entrance, prompting a low-winded sigh. He pressed deeper inside and she gasped, her body shaking from the shock, the pain, the weird satisfaction she felt being filled to the brim. Her insides stretched, as if some sort of binding inside of her was being pulled apart as he reached deeper in, a little ways out and further in.

Her head fell to the side and her teeth found the bedsheets. Her moans were muffled against the sheets between her teeth. She was trying her damnedest to make sure she wouldn’t shout with animalistic glee. She wouldn’t grant him any more pride than he was getting already from deflowering her. She shuddered, he huffed, his pace was fast at first but now as he was reaching the brink of orgasm he was moving slowly, milking as much time inside of her as he could.

While Blossom’s body reeled with pleasure, her composure deflated. She watched the ceiling, still planning to escape. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

*~*

She always felt weary at these parties for the Guild of Cataclysm, but until now never bored to the point that she watched every villain in the room, paranoid. When she walked in at Mojo’s side, all eyes fell on them. She couldn’t bite back the feeling that they knew, that they could smell the salt and musk shared between her and the simian only half an hour ago, that they knew her slightly mussed hairdo was unintentional.

She was quiet even when spoken to, afraid evidence would leak through. She kept a close ear on Mojo’s conversations, sure that he would explain why they were late.

The same anxiety plagued her in the night. She was still wearing the dress from the party, not wanting to take the chance of Mojo finding her naked again. An hour passed and she couldn’t take just lying there, waiting for sleep or worse. She zipped out of the observatory and headed to her previous home. Her mind blanked during the trip and she was surprised to be staring through her sister’s bedroom window already.

She hadn’t spoken to her sisters in years, not counting the quips in battle. She was unwillingly pit against them but she had visited them from time to time, indirectly, watching them sleep for hours when she couldn’t.

She raised a brow curiously, seeing movement beneath the covers. Bubbles wiggled out of the covers, her naked body flushed. One of her pigtails was undone, the hair tie lying on the corner of the bed along with her and Buttercup’s matching nightgowns. The black-haired girl peered from under the covers and snatched the other girl. In an instant, she pinned the blonde who tore into a fit of giggles. Buttercup hushed the gales of laughter with a kiss then slid her lips down her body, pausing at the crevice between her pale thighs. The black-haired girl lowered her head. Bubbles threw her head back.

Blossom gaped, covering her open mouth. She suddenly felt sick. The scene eerily resembled her first time with Mojo. Or maybe she was imagining it that way. She hoped she was imagining what she saw entirely, that she had really fallen asleep in bed. Like before with Mojo, she wanted to escape, but found herself rooted in midair, watching her sisters from start to finish. She hoped they would notice her watching eventually, but that never happened. Their eyes never left each other.

What they were doing was wrong, but Blossom couldn’t help but feel a little jealous– jealous that they had experienced sex the easy, more pleasant way, that it wasn’t through manipulation. More than anything she felt cast aside. They didn’t miss her- they were giggling, and making love to each other. Their old leader, their sister… Blossom was far from their thoughts. Bubbles and Buttercup looked each other in the eyes. They were honest with each other.

Blossom couldn’t look Mojo in the eyes back then. She didn’t want to be honest.

She didn’t know where she stood anymore, she found herself opening his bedroom door, floating inside, leaving a trail of clothing. She hesitated to descend at the foot of his bed, an arm across her chest, still holding on to a shred of modesty.

The megalomaniac stirred under her weight. His eyes moved over, her then his head fell back on the pillow. A minute passed and he shot up, expecting her to overthrow him, and soon that expectation was shot from his thoughts, when he looked her up and down.

Blossom half-smiled at the attention she had denied enjoying for what felt like forever and slowly approached him. Her breasts swayed with her languorous movements. She pulled down the covers and unbuttoned the pajama top separating them, her mouth on his. She felt his baffled open mouth turn upward and twist. He laughed in his throat. It was only a matter of time, he thought to himself. His gloating was interrupted by her nipples kissing his bare chest, thundering against her heat. He reached a hand between her spread legs and she pulled away from the kiss, huffing. His fingers reached inside; she opened up, then tightened around him. She fell back on the bed when he curled his fingers inside of her and moved around slowly. Her legs parted, one leg dangling over the edge of the bed.

Blossom forced herself to keep her eyes open and kept her head from turning away– whether from shame or pleasure, she didn’t know. She watched Mojo watch her. His chest was heaving and from the corner of her eye she saw he was already fully aroused. He raised her hips up and pulled her lower body over his bent knees. She felt herself turn away from their locked eyes and quickly jerked her gaze back. Mojo pressed against her and she obliged, wrapping her legs around his torso. They both held their breath as he slipped inside. In unison, they breathed out, a strange electrifying relief washing over them.

He pumped into her slowly, relishing her warmth enveloping him. She draped her hand on his arm. Her left arm was outstretched as she retracted her grip on the foot of the bed. He quickly leaned over to kiss her, drawing her tongue out immediately. Blossom played with the tip of his tongue, taking in the light groves of his taste buds and the smooth flesh under his tongue. He began to pull back but she nipped his tongue, eyeing him devilishly. He smirked, tugging back just as playfully.

She released his tongue and laid her head back down. Her hips swiveled against him, meeting his thrusts. In the end, he couldn’t contain himself and he increased his pace. At times he slowed down, but it a second later he would be pumping into her with zeal, until finally he felt himself drain, releasing inside her. Even when he slid out, they kept they eyes on each other.

*~*

You know that if we joined alliances we could change Townsville– no, more. We could revolutionize the world!

They had just woken up side by side and already Mojo was tying to persuade her to completely join forces.

I know. Blossom said bluntly. Her admittance made the simian stop mid-ramble. He heard her deny him so many times and now to actually hear what he wished for so long…

He pinched himself, not once, but twice. Blossom raised a brow at his actions while he coughed, turning back to the subject, ecstatic.

We could have everything if we ruled the world. He didn’t go on; just the word everything was enough, even for Mojo Jojo.

I would want to rule the world for our own selfish gain. Being a ruler– especially over the whole world– is a huge responsibility.

The corners of Mojo’s mouth curled. Say what you will, but I know what you really want.

Blossom threw him a miffed look then continued. Don’t think for a second that I’ve turned evil. The world is certainly not better off being taken over by your evil claws and it wouldn’t even be better off in moral hands. A government must have good and evil to remain balanced.

Mojo tapped his chin and nodded. Of course he already knew this; he was merely waiting for the girl to realize it. He opened his mouth, intending to bring up the possible fates of the redhead’s sisters, but held his tongue. He didn’t want to risk losing Blossom– or her willing genius.

*~*

Butterup was at the observatory door the next day, coincidentally while Mojo was out. Before Blossom could step aside to let her in, Buttercup grabbed her and yanked.

Let’s go!

Blossom simply stared, pulling her arm away. Buttercup tugged at her– persuaded her, begged her to go back home with her. Home, her real home. Where she was born, where she belonged.

The image of Buttercup’s mouth on Bubbles’s feminity rang in her memory. It made her back away.

I don’t belong there anymore.

You’re not a villain!

And I’m not a hero anymore! Blossom choked.

Yeah well you’re still a hero to me! Come on, it’s not the same without you.

I can’t, Blossom said sternly. Buttercup smiled a bit, glad to hear the old Blossom resurface.

Why the hell not?! Buttercup asked. You can leave anytime, it’s not like you’re wearing a collar–

We have sex, she finally bit out.

Buttercup’s eyes squinted, pissed.

He’s been raping you all this time? I should have known… She turned, ready to hunt Mojo down.

It’s mutual.

Blossom turned away. She didn’t want to be honest with Buttercup, even if the truth was already out there, hanging in the air.

Blossom expected Buttercup to glare bullets, but guilt poured over her when she saw a disappointed, betrayed look in her sister’s eyes. Buttercup was open-mouthed, looking bewildered. Her image of Blossom tore in two. One minute she caught glimpses of Blossom when they were five; the next she saw Blossom at eighteen, under a twisted servitude, yielding, a leader chained up by her own depression– or love. Buttercup denied it was the latter.

You should stop molesting Bubbles, Blossom said pointedly.

How did you–?

I saw you out the window. I used to visit once in awhile…

Buttercup hesitated to speak. I’m not taking advantage of Bubbles. She… we… We were alone. You left us. I don’t know how it started exactly. I think Bubbles was crying and she wouldn’t stop so…

So? Blossom raised a brow.

I touched her a little and she started to calm down. I said I wouldn’t do it again, but she started to approach me. She shook her head. It’s the only way for her to forget– for a short while at least. Blossom, it doesn’t have to be this way. You can always come back home.

I’m not going to fight you, Buttercup, Blossom said blandly. She used to say those words heatedly, almost in a motherly tone. She turned away. As she closed the door behind her she heard Buttercup sputtering from the shock, then pause, inhaling.

Traitor!

Blossom flinched under the truth and from then on those words reverberated in her thoughts.

*~*

They stayed up countless nights perfecting the final plans, mostly contained Mojo putting in the details, then asking her if there were any loopholes. It was grating to dig up these holes and fill them in. It almost seemed impossible to make a flawless plan.
Now that she was actively embracing her job as plan checker (and said plans didn’t involve her sisters’ annihilation), she couldn’t help but let a smile creep over her features as she muddled over equations, testing both Mojo and her own smarts. Occasionally, she would brush her hand across his knuckles in thought. Many times they stole endearing glances, proud to share something productive.

The next day he enacted his– their– plan. It was all a blur, slow but blurry. Her sisters fought harder than before, more so even than when they were pitted against Him. Despite their efforts, they fell like flies, quivering in the craters made from the hard fall.

Blossom turned to Mojo, glaring and betrayed. Of course he would do this, she knew– she should have known he would get rid of any obstacles that would break them apart.

Mojo charged his laser, grinning, chuckling. In a flash, Blossom pulled the laser from his gloved hands and threw it against the brick wall. In the blink of an eye, Mojo was bleeding from the mouth, his eye puffed up and half of his helmet cracked, exposing his enlarged brain. In the same way as she had watched her sisters falling into near death, watching Mojo breath one last breath was a hazy, slow moment. When Blossom let go of him, it felt more unreal.

She petted his brain, then his face. She had hurt him several times but she never felt the urge to kill him. Yet, she had. He would never wreck havoc again, tempt her again, love her again. He would remain still, his tongue lolling and eyes bugged out, half-surprised that she had turned on him. She looked over the huge crater her sisters were sleeping in, considering nudging them awake.

She shook her head; no, no. She wasn’t a hero anymore, not now more than ever. She killed someone– someone who deserved it– but killed nonetheless. Buttercup was right though– she wasn’t a villain either.

I’m sorry, but I don’t have a place here anymore.

She took a few steps away from the rubble and Mojo’s limp body, then rose in the air, up up and far away.