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Chapter 16
by TheDespaxas
Do you follow your instincts or your morality?
No One can fuck you until you say otherwise.
"What is it? Who knows about me, about what I can do? I want this, I want to be with you, Neal. But I have to know that I can trust you first. " you tell him as you take the small cake and look at it.
"Don't worry babe , No One knows about you. Your powers are recent, bridled, it would take years of usage and training to even see what you could accomplish. I know a way, a quicker one. This, in your hands is the first step. It is the quintessence of what make a hero. I want you to unlock your true potential, not in years but now. All you have to do is trust me. I love you and I can promise you, you won't regret it. " he tells you. You look right in his eyes and apart from his detection lenses you can only see sincerity.
You put the cake in your mouth and chew on it. It taste better than anything you ever ate before.
" I trust you, I want to be more powerful, I want you. What do I do?" you reply. It's a leap of faith but for some reason you implicitly trust him, you can't imagine him doing anything to harm you.
"Now is the part we will both enjoy. You will have to push that button behind me. You will eat another cake every ten minutes until you manage to do it." he tells you. As he does this he takes your wrists and you feel two coin sized pieces of metal sticking to them. A ring of blue energy is now circling each of your wrists and you fly back until you land on his bed with your hands stuck to the bed post.
"What is happening why did you do that?" you ask him.
"It's part of the process, I will make love to you and feed you those until you can push that button. Once you manage that you will have reached a good part of your potential. " he replies.
He jumps with you on the bed and puts his dick on the entrance of your pussy while kissing your tits.
The **** in the cake might have started acting because you feel stronger already, you feel your body changing. Your boobs are tender and their suple flesh is expanding at least one full bra size. The rare bits of fat on your body are melting and the muscles underneath are heating.
Your delicate pussy between your legs is almost burning, his dick is just resting on it, teasing you, barely out of reach.
"Fuck me, please Neal! I need this so much. " you implore him.
You could phase out in a second and go push that button but you really want his big cock inside of you, you waited long enough and his silly test can wait.
He complies without a word and starts to fuck you. He is bigger than most of the toys you use and is stretching you. He slides in and out of your flooded pussy with ease and paces himself to keep you on edge without the sweet release you ask for.
At some point he fishes out something from under the sheets and put it in your mouth. You taste another of those **** cakes, could it be already ten minutes?
The long wait and the new dose of the **** are enough to do it, you explode in a powerful orgasm. You have a strange sensation, you feel like something or maybe more than one thing is kissing and licking your body in places where you see nothing touching you.
The **** is affecting you more than you expected. You decide to go press the button and to resume the fucking once done with his test.
You use your power to enter your windform but you feel a tug at your wrists. You can't disappear, you are stuck on his bed 15 feet away from the button that will end this. As the time goes on, as you get more orgasms , as you get more ****, you are afraid that you would soon have no desire to even try stopping this. You could use wind to press the button but you can only do that once in windform.
More worrying, during the blink of time where you tried to transform you saw a bunch of small imps having their way with various parts of your anatomy that you felt were kissed before.
"I'm sorry my love, the real test starts now. It's nothing personal."
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Perils of a Novice Superheroine
A generic superheroing setting drenched with sex and scandal
Acropolis City, the center of super-human and caped crusader activity in this particular world - with its own dizzying highs and lows, high-tech skylines and slums standing in stark, four-color contrast, it provided everything that a costumed megalomaniac or masked vigilante could ask for. In fact, as is usually the case where colorful masked characters are the norm, it has become something of an institution by this point. But although the mere existence of costumed heroes and villains no longer shocks people, these people - who, by their very nature, thrive on attention - keep finding new ways to stand out from the crowd and attract the eye. This last goal tends to get a lot of emphasis in the most simple, sexualized way possible. For reasons that the world's most brilliant scientists have yet to explain, latent super-abilities seem to manifest more often in women than men by a ratio of 3 to 1 or more. This is true even when the superpower isn't "natural"; paranormal artifacts fall into their hands, esoteric martial arts schools never seem to have a male heir, the technological prototypes they test always seem to be the ones that are most easily used or abused for good and evil. Unfortunately, the glory days of the past where citizens were happy to see any old masked do-gooder show up are over - in recent years, Acropolis City has established a ranking system of heroes where those who get high marks from the citizens and resolve incidents are rewarded with corporate sponsorships and (most coveted of all) seats at the prestigious League of Propriety. Those who intimidate the populace, cause excessive collateral damage, or simply don't excite anyone, garnering low rankings, get 'asked' to move to less prestigious cities. Few superheroes want to get stuck battling clans of villainous hillbillies and corrupt small-town sheriffs for the rest of their careers, so they're always eager to please the influential citizens of Acropolis City (judges, eminent scientists, first responders, and of course the all-important reporters). On the other side of the law, a similar dynamic predominates; only the most glamorous and charismatic costumed ne'er-do-wells can make it in this town. And so, the novice superheroines just learning the ways of battling for justice and order, without any team to back them up, always end up patrolling the skeeviest, most undesirable slums of the city and taking on the most thankless rescues. As if that weren't bad enough, most of them feel obliged to dress in ways that get more outlandish and revealing with every passing year while they fight the good fight and/or feed their craving for attention, depending on how you see the 'cape life'. As if that weren't troublesome enough, the superhuman mutations that make so many of these heroes' careers possible also result in greatly increased sexual sensitivity, particularly in females. The adventures and misadventures that these spandex-clad lady crusaders get into are often too hot to print for the kind of comics that their young admirers would read. Messy mistakes will be made, but you don't want to disappoint your readers, do you? So let the League know what kind of superheroine you are, your chosen name, powers, and appearance, and they'll send you out on your first patrols. Good luck.
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Updated on Jun 15, 2025
by micdan282
Created on Nov 30, 2016
by fyreant
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