Yeah!

"Heard about a robbery of some tennis shit last night. Know anything about that?" Violet greets you as you arrive for your daily training session.

"Ummm no?" you respond.

"That's not what your boyfriend told me."

"I don't have a-- He's not my boyfriend!" you shout at her when you realize that she's talking about Confidence Man.

"Meeting up at a club... Getting all wet and naked with him... Sounds awfully chummy..."

"Okay first off--!" You notice Violet crack a smile and start to laugh as she can no longer hold a straight face. "You're fucking with me," you sigh.

"Ahaha Of course I am. Have we met?" She continues to have a laugh at your expense. "I know you wouldn't go after that cheesy douche. Wouldn't have picked you to be my protege if that was your type."

"I didn't realize you considered my dating profile before choosing me."

"A girl's gotta be thorough. Can't have my pet project flop. Wouldn't be good for the ol image I'm trying to boost here. And you checked all the boxes: Strong powers, hot bod, amateur trainwreck."

"You picked me because of my looks?" you interrupt her.

"That's the part you have an issue with? Looks are important in this game. You haven't figured that out yet? Fattie Cankles isn't going to be on the front page even if she stops the friggin apocalypse. But a heroine who's easy on the eyes? Much more potential for exposure. And the more exposure, the more upward mobility."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Of course it does. Now enough chitchat. Strip so we can get started." Violet gives you the harsh reminder of the reality of your training situation. Until you prove yourself worthy, you're stuck in the nude. But at least it's starting to have the intended effect and you are able to stand naked in front of the purple-haired heroine without blushing. You bend down to put your clothes into your bag. *Smack* Even Violet's ass slapping doesn't faze you today. "Hmm is this thing on?" Violet ponders out loud while looking at her hand. *Thwap* She gives your behind another slap. You fight the urge to yelp and manage to keep a mostly straight face with a slight flinch.

"Are we ready to begin?" you say, hoping to get on with the training and avoid another whack to your rear.

"I suppose we are," Violet rubs her hands together in anticipation. "Since it seems as though you and your boyfriend-"

"Not my boyfriend!"

"-have found an adversary, I thought it would be prudent to do some specialized training before you get your ass kicked again." With a pull of her hand, a tennis ball auto-serving machine rolls into the gym. "Your job is to destroy the balls before they destroy you. Go!" Without further warning, the machine begins firing, the first ball bounces off one of your tits before you can get your flames up.

"Oww..." It stings a bit, but it didn't explode or anything, so it's not too bad. And you don't have time to think about it anyway as the machine is on rapid-fire, sending more balls your way by the second. In a hurry you use your left hand as a flamethrower, torching the incoming balls as you set the rest of your body ablaze. Once you've caught up, it's almost too easy, other than the odd knuckler that dips and dives on approach.

"Good." Violet chimes in when the machine has emptied the reservoir. "Let's up the difficulty a bit now. Remember this?" She holds out your old buddy the Stimulatrix and tosses it to you. "I trust you remember what to do with that." You sigh and nod, placing it over your clit. Meanwhile Violet has rolled out a second machine and has a fresh load of tennis balls for the first. "Since you were so good on round one, let's just skip ahead and crank this baby up to 11."

The Stimulatrix almost buzzes right off you as it instantly revs up to max power. It's almost too much sensation for you to process at once and you're kind of numb to it at first, which allows you to still incinerate the incoming projectiles. That clarity is shortlived though as you begin to go weak in the knees with all the vibrations running through your pleasure centers. You clench your thighs together and bend slightly at the waist, gritting your teeth as you try to keep your focus on the tennis balls and not on your dripping pussy. And it works, as you are able to keep one hand pointed at each machine, countering each tennis ball with a burst of fire. But then the machines start moving. A moan of half pleasure, half frustration escapes your lips as your targets begin coming in from all around you. You're able to keep up at first, but with your attention being pulled in 3 directions (and one of those being a significantly stronger pull than the others) some of the balls begin to get through.

The first one bounces off your ass. The next two hit you in the chest. Small whimpers begin to accompany your rapid, shallow breathing. One nails you square in the crotch, which serves to re-awaken your focus momentarily with the pain overriding the pleasure as you manage to light up the next few incoming balls before another gets through and whacks you in the shoulder.

"Come on, Firecrotch! You're almost finished," Violet shouts out in pseudo-encouragement.

Grrrrr I hate that name... You try to channel your anger and keep your focus on the tennis balls even as you can feel your pleasure juices starting to trickle down your leg. How is that even possible when I'm on fire? *Pop*Pop* In rapid succession two get you in the backs of the legs, sending you to your knees. This actually helps stabilize your aim a bit as your knees were getting a little wobbly and you take care of the next volley of balls. Getting ever closer to orgasm, you are forced to clamp a hand over your pulsing pussy in a futile attempt to suppress the coming wave. The temptation is too great though, and you allow first one, then two fingers to slip inside your moist valley.

With only one hand left free to shoot, more and more of the balls are getting through. One comes right for your face and at the last moment, in a panic, fire shoots out from your eyes to vaporize the ball. You are now rapidly frigging yourself, your moans and the sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of your dripping pussy drowning out the serving machines. You barely notice that you aren't getting pelted with tennis balls anymore and that the Stimulatrix has been turned off. You're far too close to the edge to stop now.

"AAahhhh!" The dam finally breaks. A small jet of fire squirts from your crotch, quickly followed by a much larger burst of flames. You continue fingerfucking yourself through the orgasm, leaning back on your heels as you prolong the pleasure. "Mmmmmmm" you let out a long moan as you finally let your fingers slide out. You're suddenly aware of clapping in the room.

"Finished the task and gave a nice light show to boot. Well done, Flame." Violet is giving you a standing ovation. You feel way too nice and tingly to care whether she's being serious or sarcastic right now. Content to lay on the ground, you allow your flames to drop, laying out completely naked without a care. You notice that Violet has a package in her hand.

"What's that?" you ask.

"You still have a long way to go. A LONG way." She emphasizes this by holding her arms all the way out at her sides. "But I think you've shown enough that you won't _completely _fuck up every time out there. So I have something for you." She hands you the package. Excitedly, you rip off the firetruck patterned wrapping paper and open the box. Inside, you find a silvery outfit. Your uniform! Pulling it out, you find that it's not exactly the same. The material feels a little sturdier. The bottoms are the same design as your old uniform, but the top has straps more like a skimpy sports bra rather than the ties of your old top. "I had a friend make some modifications," Violet says as she notices you looking over the new design. "Some nano-weave alien shit that can handle twice the heat your old outfit could. And got rid of that tie in the back. You want those nip slips to be on your terms, not theirs."

You jump up and squeeze your arms tightly around a surprised Violet. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"Okay let's not get too carried away." She gives you a pat on the shoulder.

"Sorry!" You pull away and notice a little wet spot where your crotch pressed up against the leg of her pants. Eyes wide, you hope she doesn't notice as you put on your new uniform. "How does it look?" You give her a twirl before busting back into Flame.

"Like you're ready for your first big win."

"I take it you have something specific in mind?" you ask as you fly around, testing the feel of your outfit. It fits like a glove, even better than your homemade sewing job on the old one.

"I do. You're going to finally take down Ace. But here's the catch: You have to do it on your own, without your boyfriend's help."

"Not my boyfriend. Also, isn't this his thing? It wouldn't seem right to take her on without him."

"He's had plenty of opportunities to end this little dance of theirs. A lot of us are starting to wonder if he's deliberately letting her get away every time so that he can continue the chase. So, no, you do not need to bring him along. Completing this solo also boosts your cred as you don't have to share the glory of victory with anyone."

"I don't know..."

"Look I can't make you not bring him along, but I haven't led you astray so far, have I? Just trust me on this. Anyway, I happen to know the little chateau where Ace is holed up. She will be there tonight and you will be there to capture her in possession of a whole pile of stolen goods. I'll leave the specifics up to you, but I expect to be reading about your deeds in the morning paper."

"I won't let you down!"

"You'd better not..." Violet smirks. "Nah I know you'll knock it out of the park." She gives you another trademark slap to the ass as she walks away. "And don't think I didn't notice you leaking on my leg. You owe me for dry cleaning." Dammit

You put your outer layers back on and walk home, thinking about whether to try to contact Confidence Man or stick with Violet's advice and go it alone.