Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 174: Rough shape,

Kael led Freya, Rhea, and Lila to the house next to the Haven, the morning sun glaring off its dilapidated facade.

The structure was a mess—sagging wooden siding shed curls of faded paint, cracked windows gaped like broken teeth, and the yard choked on a tangle of weeds, vines, and twisted trees, their roots buckling the cracked walkway.

The air reeked of mildew and decay, the Haven’s creaky walls behind them a faint comfort.

Freya shifted, her navy pants concealing the anal bead panties, each step sending a subtle, tingling jolt through her, her jaw clenched to stifle a gasp.

"What a dump," Rhea said, nudging a rusted can with her foot, her black shorts already dusted with dirt, the scent of her breakfast bacon lingering.

"Needs more than a broom," Freya muttered, her voice sharp, her hands twitching, the beads’ pressure a constant distraction, her cyan t-shirt creasing as she surveyed the chaos.

Lila, her loose gown swishing, stayed silent, her glasses catching the light, her power-suppressing collar off for now at Kael’s approval, her presence a quiet commitment to the task.

"Clear it out with your powers," Kael said, his grin steady, his t-shirt damp with early sweat, his jeans streaked from brushing past weeds. "Make it ours."

Freya took point, her fingers snapping, a frosty aura swirling around her.

She conjured a storm of sharp snowflakes, each a glinting, blade-like crystal, slicing through the yard’s mess with precision.

Vines snapped, trees crashed, their trunks sheared clean, and overgrown tendrils collapsed in heaps, the air sharp with the scent of fresh sap and ice.

Rhea followed, her hands blazing, controlled flames roaring to life, their orange heat devouring the piled debris, reducing branches and weeds to gray ash, the crackle loud, the smell of charred earth thick.

Lila’s shadows slithered from her feet, dark tendrils coiling like living ropes, gathering rubble—twigs, shattered glass, and rotted boards—into tight bundles for Rhea’s fire, her shadows’ eerie hum cutting through the noise, their precision streamlining the cleanup.

By mid-morning, the yard was bare, the house’s exterior stripped but standing, its interior a hollow shell of crumbling plaster and exposed beams, dust swirling in the sunlight through broken windows.

The walls were a problem—pockmarked, cracked, and too thin in places, the space cramped for a proper gym.

"Walls need expanding and fixing," Kael said, scratching his head, his grin fading. "I’ll get materials. You three handle it."

Kael hauled in sacks of quick-set plaster, rolls of wire mesh, and steel reinforcement bars from the Haven’s storage, dumping them in the yard, the clatter loud, the plaster’s chalky scent mixing with the ash.

"Freya, use your ice to shape and reinforce. Rhea, fuse it. Lila, polish it. I’ll check back," he said, heading to coordinate equipment deliveries, his t-shirt soaked, his grin trusting as he left them to it.

Freya nodded, her fingers flexing, a cool mist forming.

She generated thick sheets of ice, smooth and translucent, molding them into frames around the steel bars, extending the walls outward to widen the room, her snowflakes carving precise grooves for the mesh.

The ice held the plaster in place, seeping into cracks, its expansion knitting fractures together, the air chilling with her effort, the scent of frost sharp.

She shaped the ice to curve the walls slightly, maximizing space, the frozen surfaces gleaming like glass, her movements strained by the beads’ subtle shifts, a soft gasp escaping as she bent, the panties’ pressure teasing her core.

Rhea stepped up, her flames dialed to a low, focused heat, melting Freya’s ice just enough to fuse the plaster and mesh, the steel bars glowing faintly, the mixture hardening into sturdy, smooth walls, the scent of singed dust and wet stone rising.

Lila’s shadows flowed over the surfaces, dark tendrils buffing out imperfections, polishing the walls to a sleek finish, their faint hum blending with the crackle of Rhea’s fire, the room transforming into a spacious, clean slate, the air fresh with the tang of new construction.

By noon, the walls stood tall and solid, the interior expanded into a wide rectangle, the floorboards scuffed but intact.

Kael returned, hauling paint buckets—white and gray, their chemical tang cutting through the freshness.

"Nice work," he said, his grin wide, setting out rollers and brushes.

They painted, strokes rhythmic, the wet sheen spreading, transforming the space, paint splattering their clothes—Freya’s cyan t-shirt flecked, Rhea’s tank top smudged, Lila’s gown streaked.

The air grew heavy with fumes, their hands sticky, the room now a blank, gleaming canvas.

"Lunchtime," Kael said, wiping his brow. "Lila, take yours with Tila and come back. We’ll eat here." Lila nodded, grabbing a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches—crusty bread, sharp mustard—and headed to the Haven, her gown swishing, the collar still off, her steps quiet but purposeful.

In Tila’s room, the air was tense, Tila’s glare sharp as Lila set the plate down, her black hair messy, her collar glinting.

"They’re still at it, huh?" Tila hissed, her voice low, her eyes flicking to the door.

Lila nodded, her smile small, eating quickly, the mustard’s tang biting, before returning to the house, her glasses glinting, her silence a shield against Tila’s simmering anger.

Outside the house, Kael, Freya, and Rhea ate sandwiches, the ham savory, the cheese creamy, the bread’s crunch satisfying under the midday sun, the ash-scented yard quiet.

Freya shifted, the beads inside her sending a jolt, her thighs clenching, a faint flush on her cheeks as she bit into her sandwich, the mustard sharp on her tongue.

Kael, catching her wince, grinned and delivered a playful slap to her ass, the crack loud, the beads shifting, making her quiver, a pulse of pleasure-pain shooting through her.

She glared back, her lips twitching, and grabbed his wrist, her icy fingers chilling his skin, the cold sharp and biting.

Kael yelped, yanking his hand free, his grin sheepish.

"Fuck, Freya, give a warning!"

Freya chuckled, her laugh bright, the moment lightening their fatigue.

Trucks arrived, unloading gym equipment—weight racks, treadmills, punching bags, mats—their metal and leather gleaming, the scent of new rubber mixing with paint fumes.

They hauled it inside, muscles straining, arranging one side with benches, weights, and cables, the other left open, its floorboards polished by Lila’s shadows, ideal for combat training.

"Interior’s bare," Freya said, surveying the stark room, her voice tight as she shifted, the beads teasing her again, her navy pants hiding the secret.

"I’ll handle design—mirrors, lights, some color. Two, three days, it’ll look sharp."

Rhea nodded, wiping sweat, her tank top clinging. "Needs a food stall, corner spot. Protein shakes, snacks—it will keep us going."

Kael snorted, shaking his head, paint in his hair. "This is for training only, all you have to do is walk a dozen steps to get food in Haven."

Freya agreed.

The room, though functional, gleamed with potential, the walls smooth, the equipment ready.

"Great work," Kael said, his grin wide, the gym’s fresh paint catching the light. "Let’s celebrate—ice cream, snacks, my treat."

Lila shook her head, her gown dusty, her voice firm.

"I’ll stay at the Haven with Tila, keep an eye on things from my room. Can you keep my collar off, Kael?"

"Sure, I trust you Lila," Kael said, his grin softening, respecting her choice.

They piled into the Zephyr X9, the sleek, black sedan’s chrome trim glinting in the evening light, its engine purring with a low, confident hum.

They drove to a nearby shop, the cooling air streaming through cracked windows, the scent of sugar and fried dough growing stronger as they parked.

They ordered ice cream—vanilla swirled with caramel, chocolate studded with fudge chunks, strawberry bursting with fruit—and crispy onion rings, their crunch loud, the flavors rich and indulgent, the ice cream melting on their tongues, the snacks a perfect reward.

Back at the Haven, Lila sat in her room, the collar off, her glasses glinting as she looked at the blank wall in front of her.

Silent.

Lost in thought.