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Chapter 16
by TheDespaxas
The gift of pleasure.
The Vorpaline Sword.
After your seventh orgasm and seeing the amazed looks on Verminia's face who tried to imitate you, convinced that this is another friendly activity but only managed to cum once, you use your wind form to see what the fuck is happening.
The imps are there and there are more than before. Each that doesn't get access to one of your naughty bits is simply licking a random part of your body.
Some of them are holding some sort of thin teal and silver butterfly wings. Eight of them to be precise, one for each orgasm you had.
As you wanted to see them more closely they fly away and as the imps scatter they come to cover your body.
Two of them fly to your face, creating a beautiful mask that hides your eyes and glows of a nice glittery teal light, making your face harder to recognize.
One goes to each of your tits and covers the bare minimum, your nipples and areolas.
Three on your pussy, on each side and on top, leaving an invisible slit to give access to it.
The last one on the top of your ass crack, hiding nothing but making you look less naked from behind.
Another thing is there, floating in front of you is an exquisite sword guard of carved silver.
You grab it, surprised to get a hold of it in your windform, just in time for White Jaw to destroy your barricade.
You fly in front of Verminia and then seeing the foolishness of an intangible shield, reappear.
The sword guard and costume are still there but you don't see the point of a bladeless sword.
As the monster approaches and your desire to fight becomes greater something strange occurs.
All the wings but the two firming your mask, fly away to align themselves with the sword guard. They float, perfectly flat and still, forming a long blade that follows the moves of the guard. A swing from your wrist and the blade touches a piece of mushroom that falls cleanly cut in two on the ground.
To your surprise and relief, a rat that was hidden behind it is unscathed and looks perfectly fine.
Your blade only cuts what you want it to cut.
You charge at the beast and with a large swing (you played a bit of softball at school) the tip of the blade cleaves the upper teeth of the mutant hybrid. The back swing takes out the lower ones and with a somersault that you would have never managed before, you land on his back to plunge the sword to the guard into his brain.
You let go of it as the body of the monster is rolling away but you soon feel a long tubular shape inside of your pussy.
When you extract it you can see that five of the little carvings are glowing with a teal light. There where six wings, you conclude that those are not permanent, given the way you create them, keeping your blade charged won't be an issue.
"Thanks Breeze, you saved Verminia and gave the pack enough food for months. " says the sewer girl, clapping at your exploit before giving you another friendly kiss on the mouth with a finger in your pussy.
" Verminia, this No One, do you know where he is? Can you guide me to him? " you ask.
" He doesn't like visitors at his den, but He is friend with Verminia and Breeze is friend with Verminia too. He won't be bothered by visit from friends. I show you. " she tells you, walking away, only wearing a few rats as clothes.
You manage to get the wings to form a costume again and slip back the sword hilt in your pussy.
Walking in the sewers, looking for No One.
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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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