Explore Ovyah's ability to become other people!

Peter stared at the djinn for a long moment, before shaking his head. "That... that's too... too big. It feels too good to be true. And I've learned..."

"Are you feeling your... Spidey Sense?" Ovyah asked, her smile growing. "Is it warning you about danger?"

Peter shivered. "I don't need my Spider Sense to sense how dangerous you can be, Ovyah. And I don't like gifts being offered so freely. They tend to be the most expensive sort."

Ovyah rolled her eyes, stretching and arching her back, presenting her breasts. "I told you. You've already paid. And besides." She giggled. "You can't get rid of me."

"I can't... wait, what?"

Ovyah began walking across Peter's small apartment to the kitchenette. "Exactly what I said, Spider-Pete. You can't get rid of me. You're my master until you die. Which means I can't get any kind of satisfaction or fufillment unless you're part of it. And I don't just mean sexually." She paused. "Okay, I mostly mean sexually, but not entirely. I'll always be around, somewhere."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "I have a life, Ovyah. I have a secret identity. I have--"

Ovyah waved her hand. "Yes, yes. I know. You have things. Admittedly, a lot of those can be taken care of thanks to me, but you don't believe that just yet. Don't worry. I won't mess with your relationship with your sainted Aunt or your little job at that newspaper." She paused. "Unless, you know. I'm completely unfulfilled. You can't shuffle me off on watching basic cable, you know."

Peter rubbed his temples. "So... what? I have sex with you regularly and you'll--"

"Don't be obscene! I'm not a succubus and I'm not a prostitute!" She rolled her eyes. "I'm not even a nymphomaniac. I'm a djinn. I'm fulfilled by fulfilling you. Is that such a hard concept?" She paused. "...I'm... sorry. I haven't existed for centuries. It's... hard to finally incarnate after all that time and not even be wanted."

Peter felt a flush of guilt. "I... yeah, I can imagine. Look. Look, it's not that I don't... or that I won't want what you offer. But I just met you. You're asking me to take a lot on faith." He paused. "And you're a bit pushy."

"Oh, am I? Gosh. You mean like Felicia Hardy, or Silver Sable, or Carol Danvers, or Mary Jane Watson?" She snorted. "Spider-Pete, you have a type. Is it so crazy I fit it? I match your desires." She turned, leaning against a counter, arching. "And you're into it."

Peter shifted again -- his erection was still tight against his costume, and she wasn't helping that at all. "...yeah, I am," he admitted.

"Then let's... ease you into this, Bobcat." She smiled, slowly. "Tell you what. You know I can... be someone else. Maybe someone you like. Or even hate."

"Yes -- and I told you--"

"You took offense to my taking Mary Jane's form. Fine. I understand that. There's history." She smiled languidly. "But think about all the women you've known that you haven't been involved with. Consider... Susan Storm Richards -- you'd never dream of making a play, right? But you can't pretend you haven't thought about it. Or what about Jessica Drew -- you gave me her butt, you must like it. Mmm... or maybe the Wasp. Or Captain Marvel -- you two got close but no cigar. Mmm... or maybe I mean Ms. Marvel -- the original, not the kid. At least that leotard... those thighs..."

Peter's mouth dropped open. "What... would that... mean? To the real people?"

"To the 'real' people? Nothing. I'll be them to more decimal points than even your spider sense can detect... but they'll be none the wiser, and I sure won't ever tell. In fact, you can make it part of your wish that they'll never find out, and then all my power will ensure it."

"How is that part of sex?"

Ovyah giggled. "Covering up shameful assignations? How is it not?" She tossed her hair. "So. Who am I going to be... and who are you going to do, Bobcat?"