I awoke to the pleasurable feeling of a woman’s lips around my cock. Apparently, Clarissa woke up before I did. Luckily, she was still under the ring’s influence. If she was still under, after this amount of time, then the influence would probably linger for another day or so. It would fade, eventually, but I’d be long gone by then. For now, I’d just enjoy myself.

I held her head down as I came. Once she’d swallowed it all, I let her up, and smiled. “Well, that’s definitely a great way to wake up. You do that for your husband?”

She blushed, and nodded. “Yes, usually on his birthday, or when I know he’s going to have a rough day at the office. Makes sure that at least the day starts well, even if it is going to be a rough one, you know?”

Patting her head, I said, “Well, that’s an excellent way of looking at it. But you know what is an even better present than just waking your man up with a blowjob?”

“What?”

“Waking him up with a blowjob, and then dragging him into the shower for some steamy shower sex. Not just vanilla, but the wild, passionate kind. Be his own personal porn star, and he’ll be singing your praises to all his buddies.”

Clarissa bit her lip. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Then allow me to show you.”

Needless to say, it was over an hour later when we finally made our way down to the hotel lobby, and said our goodbyes. I was dressed in my clothes from the night before, but Clarissa’s were ruined, so she had to pull some out of her bags. I paid for the room, and left a tip for the cleaning staff, and we both got in separate cabs. Neither of us asked for the other’s number, so a repeat wasn’t likely. When she eventually shook off the ring’s influence, she would believe that everything that happened was her idea, so there probably wasn’t any way that would blow back on me.

I checked my Admin messages while the cab was navigating Atlanta traffic. Since I was the only system administrator for Earth, all messages came my way. I noticed that there was a distinct progression, with new messages showing up as people woke up in different time zones around the world. Either way, most of them were the kind I could just ignore, which was helpful.

The time travelers had gotten the message. Apparently, they were not eager to try and unravel the fabric of the reality they lived in. According to the System logs, each time traveler stopped their attempts after seeing the message once. Of course, I wasn’t so foolish as to think that they weren’t at least going to try and do it again. You don’t hold a cookie just out of reach of a kid, and expect them not to want it, but they would be more careful about going after the cookie now that they had potential consequences to think about. For now, at least, that problem was sorted.

Which brought me to my next problem. I needed to decide how to approach my sister. We hadn’t seen each other since I ran away from home. Officially, I was declared dead a few years after I left. I wasn’t sure that she’d recognize me off the bat, or not. Hell, I wasn’t sure that I’d recognize her, either. After all, a lot could happen in twelve years.

Since she was working as a supervillain, just dropping into her house, like I did with the Knights yesterday, was probably not the best idea. While all supers took the idea of home security pretty seriously, there was a difference between what superheroes and supervillains could get away with. Supervillains had much less to lose from having highly lethal traps around their base. Especially if those traps were tied to their powers somehow, allowing them to walk through them as if they were nothing.

So, just breaking in wasn’t my favorite option, even if I was certain that I could pull it off. And I wasn’t certain. Technomancers were a lot like gadgeteers and mad scientists, in that they often found ways to use technology that shouldn’t be possible in the realms of science. And a skilled technomancer could make an entire building into a deathtrap, just by playing with the building’s systems.

The other option would be to meet with her somewhere in the city. Her ‘civilian’ identity had a job as a system administrator for some company I couldn’t bring myself to care about. A fitting role for a technomancer, but useless for my purposes. There would be no way of quietly approaching her at work, unless I was willing to put in more time and effort to do the proper legwork. And I hadn’t researched her enough to know her daily habits, so an ‘accidental’ meeting wasn’t going to happen.

That left the simple method of calling her out, and getting her to come to me. Thankfully, that wouldn’t be too hard. After all, she had already reached out to me, as the System Administrator. If I sent her a System message as the Administrator, then she would definitely bite at the chance to meet, and ask some questions.

No, the only question was what identity to go to the meet with. I had to decide whether I was going to meet her as her brother, Mirikon Mollen, or whether I was going to meet her as my ‘real’ self, the supervillain Iceblade. I was more comfortable in costume than out of it, so that was my natural preference, but I was aware that our first meeting, after so long, would set the tone for our relationship going forward, if there is one.

The real issue was the fact that she would find out, sooner, rather than later. After all, my plan was to give her admin access to the System, so that she could help me in running the damn thing. She would be able to find my profile as easily as I found hers. Probably easier, since she was a natural with computers. If she thought that I was trying to hide that information from her, things could get unpleasant, fast.

Of course, things were going to get really unpleasant anyways, as soon as she found out I wasn’t dead. There was no way that conversation would be fun. Still, it was probably best to get it out of the way, as soon as possible.

That decided, I used my phone to pick a good meeting spot. I wanted someplace open, to make listening in on the conversation, either by eavesdropping or through bugs, would be more difficult. I also wanted something with limited technology, so that she wouldn’t have too many options to try and attack me. There’d be traffic, sure, but most cars were still driven manually, because hackers had attacked people using self-driving vehicles in the past. There was even an assassin who briefly used self-driving systems to crash a target’s vehicle, killing them. Only took two Senators and a Governor dying before they harshly restricted that.

At any rate, there wouldn’t be too many options for her to attack me with, which made me feel better, since I was going in there without most of my protections. And it wouldn’t be completely empty, since there were always tourists and the like, so that would hopefully cut down on what she’d be willing to throw at me. Hopefully. At least this time I could actually run away, if I needed to.

It was just after noon as I got out of the cab at my target location. I paid the cabbie, and then began walking through the park, looking for a landmark to use as a meeting site. Along the way, I picked up a burger from a food stand. Nothing fancy, but I hadn’t had breakfast yet, unless you counted nookie as food. (My stomach did not.) I’d just finished eating when my strolling took me to a nice little area at the corner of the park, opposite the World of Coca-Cola Museum. It was perfect.

Sitting down on a nearby bench, I opened the Administrator menu to send her a message.

To: Crystal Mollen (Web Mistress, Lady Lolth)

From: Local Administrator

Subject: Regarding Your Recent Actions

Miss Mollen, your attempt to hack into the System via the notification system has not gone unnoticed. Due to that, and your specialty, your communication attempts have been deleted to prevent malware from destabilizing reality. We ask that you refrain from trying to hack the System again, or it will be necessary to quarantine you, as has happened to several individuals already.

For further communication, a representative will be waiting in Centennial Olympic Park, at the corner of Baker St NW and Centennial Olympic Park Dr NW, opposite the World of Coca-Cola Museum. The representative will wait until 2PM, Eastern Standard Time. Please avoid being late.

Respectfully,

Local Administrator

And send. That should get a response from her. No threats, just informing her that I’d noticed her actions, and telling her about potential consequences if she continued trying to hack reality. There was another layer to it, of course, since I used her real name and her aliases, which meant I knew all about her.

I sat back with my phone, and randomly scrolled through a dating app. Not like I was actually going to meet with any of the girls on this short trip, but it was still fun to scroll now and then. And, if I did need to come down to Atlanta for some reason in the future, there wasn’t any harm in knowing what the local dating scene was like. Ok, so, really, it was just a way to pass time, and seeing pictures of pretty women who were looking for fun was way more interesting than wading into the absolute meltdown that the different social media sites were likely in right now. I didn’t want any part of that drama, so I stuck with looking at pictures of women I’d probably never meet.

The park was not empty, despite it being during the week. Fortunately, most of the people out at this time were either business workers on their lunch breaks and tourists. The businesspeople were just trying to eat, maybe talk with their work friends, and then get back to work. The tourists were mostly school groups or families. None of them were going to just come up and start trying to chat up a random stranger, even if my ring made me look like their ideal man.

Not that there weren’t people looking. I noticed a few stares, and a few people taking pictures. That much was normal. Unfortunately, when you have a magic item that makes you look like the ideal man, people start wondering if you’re a celebrity, and trying to figure out who you are. It was attention, but it wasn’t the kind of attention that would cause me trouble, unless I had to reveal my powers to escape. Then, I’d need to figure something out. But this much? It was fine.

Of course, it wasn’t just the wannabe paparazzi that were looking at me. There was a group of three girls, probably high school age, who were looking at me like lionesses staring at a side of beef. So far, they’d limited themselves to just looking, and twice they’d ventured close, trying to catch my eye. I ignored them, even when one, more daring than the others, bent over to tie her shoe, her skirt rising enough to show off the thong she wore underneath. She looked upset when I continued ignoring her, and didn’t even crack a smile. Another thing I was used to.

It looked like they were about to screw up the courage to actually come up to me, or catcall me, but before they could, I noticed someone coming closer. Deliberate sounds of heels on the concrete. A shadow fell over me, and I looked up into a woman’s face.

“Are you the administrator’s representative?”