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Chapter 17
by otx
What's next?
Little America
As your brain adjusts you take in the quaint nineteenth-century house, the white picket fence, the atmosphere-retaining dome, and the crescent moon.
"Where are we?"
"This is Little America; it's my home away from home in the L4 resonance point between the Earth and the Moon."
"How did we get here?"
"Flight. At nine-and-three c's you don't have enough time in vacuum to lose air."
"Nine and three...?"
"0.999 of the speed of light. To your perception the trip takes a few milliseconds, though in reality it was about one and a quarter seconds. Don't sweat the math, we're here. Come on inside, we'll get you cleaned up." She looks at herself and laughs. "Both of us, actually."
As you approach the door it's opened by a medium-brown skinned man in an Uncle Sam outfit.
"Thank you, Spangle."
"Don't mention it, cutie."
You look between the two. "You have a black...?"
"Sidekick? Spangle is not a **** if that's what you're thinking. He works with me for three years; I get tech support and a majordomo, he gets a salary, training and, by dint of being close to me, super powers."
"People get super powers by being close to you?"
"Uh-huh. I kind of radiate meta energy. And so you have no illusions Spangle, and my other sidekick Star, both get very close to me. You too, while you're here and if you'd like." She turns to Spangle. "Where's Star?"
He answers, "Drawing your bath. CB called ahead."
"CB?"
"I refuse to call it CUNT-Ball, no matter how accurate the description. So, how did you manage to get Influence's?"
"She's my... uh, grandmother."
"Unusual pause there."
"It's kind of complicated."
"Say no more. First we bathe, then I introduce you to Star and Spangle properly. Which reminds me; take off the gloves and boots and such. Spangle will make sure they're cleaned and refreshed."
She removes her cape and outfit, handing them to Spangle. Her nude body is every bit as perfect as you imagined. Her final step is to press the base of her vagina and let the CUNT-Ball slide its wet and sticky way out. Hers is painted red, white, and blue. Of course. It takes you some effort to peel your eyes off her godlike form and strip; at her urging you hand off your CUNT-Ball too.
Spangle waits. "Your amulet too, Miss. Don't worry, the house is climate controlled and I'm sure Maiden A will find a way to keep you warm." He gives you a wink.
The next bit is a blur, mostly because you can't see worth beans without your glasses. You tried contacts a few times, but they caused a nasty reaction in your eyes that nearly drove you blind so you gave up on the idea. It's actually easier to talk around Maiden America when you can't see her clearly, though her every touch sends tingling thrills through your body.
A blurry red-white-and-blue form says "Your bath is ready," in a woman's voice.
Maiden responds, "Thank you, Star." She helps you into a spa-style hot tub and climbs in next to you. Your desire, already strong, is ramping up every second.
You lean in close when she suddenly dunks you. When you get to the surface sputtering you hear her sparkling laugh.
"That comes later, little Nudge. For now, we bathe."
You decide to do a test. "Kiss me."
She does. You realize you still have no idea whether your powers work on her.
What's next?
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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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