Lacey Smith, low-profile villainess

Growing up in a world of super-powered perverts was tricky business for a young woman packing nothing between her legs but a very enticing pussy. It was made even more complicated by the futa population, some of whom willing to use their overtly feminine appearance to get close to women. Sure, there were plenty of decent folk in all genders, but there were enough villains to cause a good girl a lot of worry.

Fortunately, Lacey had never been much of a good girl.

Since the time her powers had manifest at a very young age, Lacey had known she was never going to be content playing by the rules. Ethics, morality, law... all concepts invented by the weak to restrain the powerful. Lacey hated being restrained.

With a low grunt, she lifted the heavy barbell at her feet. It was set a fair bit lower than the heaviest she could lift; today was going to be a light workout. Today, Lacey was hunting.

She worked up a light sweat as she rearranged her weights and moved through a handful of exercises. She'd learned power lifting from one of her recent victims and found she quite enjoyed the simple elegance of it: lift the heavy thing, get stronger. A small number of movements could work her entire body, which was always a plus in her book.

As she set up the bar for a set of squats, she felt a number of eyes on her. Squats always drew the eyes. It would have annoyed Lacey, except that those eyes were exactly what she wanted.

She'd dressed in very tight clothing to accentuate her trim waist and pert butt specifically for this moment, and had been quietly shedding desire-inducing pheromones since the moment she walked into the crummy little gym two hours from her home.

Settling herself beneath the bar, she took her time getting it to lay just right across her shoulders and square up her feet. The eyes on her body felt hot. Lacey didn't even need to read their minds to know what they were thinking.

It turned her on, knowing that the small handful of guys around her all wanted to have their way with her, but she loved to know the specifics. As she lifted the bar from its rack, she mentally followed one pair of eyes back to the mind behind them, probing so gently that even a trained telepath likely wouldn't have noticed.

The law strictly forbade Lacey's specific, rare form of mind-reading without consent and a government-issued license but there would only be consequences if she got caught. The horny gym rat staring openly at Lacey's ass had a snowball's chance in hell of detecting her skilled intrusion.

Her target was a basic boring dude. A safe, easy target, but not worth much. The easy ones never were. The man's mind was mostly full of useless things, or things Lacey already possessed. Why were so many men so one-dimensional? Still, he wouldn't be a complete waste of time.