superhero

This story was loosely inspired by a scene in Joe Kelly’s run on JLA. I was also looking to further explore the Batman/Wonder Woman dynamic I first wrote about in my Mortal Kombat vs DCU fanfic. What can I say? I’m a fan of these two as a couple…so much that this has ended up being the longest literotica I’ve written so far. If you like it, please make sure to vote and leave some feedback. Thanks!



Both characters are TM and © DC Entertainment, Time Warner, and their respective rights holders. This is a work of parody, is not intended as a challenge to their copyright and should not be read by anyone under 18.




*



Wonder Woman grunted, pivoted, guarded herself against the attack. She used her bracelet to fend off a blow from one truncheon as she blocked the second with her sword.



Batman was not so easily dissuaded, however. He spun quickly, swinging his leg along the ground in a sweeping kick.



It knocked Wonder Woman off her feet but she regained quickly with a somersault, finding her footing and striking back, lunging at Batman with her sword.



They’d been training for nearly an hour now, neither of them gaining a clear advantage over the other for more than a moment. Out of everyone in the League, that’s what made Batman…Bruce…the best to train with, Diana thought to herself. They were so evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat, even if he was only a ‘mere mortal’.



Having taken advantage of a rare moment of downtime, they had stolen themselves away to one of the many training rooms the Watchtower had to offer. It was black, sleek, dimly lit, with the most incredible view of the Earth spinning peacefully below them – the perfect backdrop for an impromptu sparring session. With no one else on-board, they were free to grunt and curse as they went at each other mercilessly.



If she were to be honest with herself, Diana was secretly thrilled at the chance to be spending time this way, which is why her first reaction was one of dismay when Batman suddenly said,



“We’re not getting very far this way, are we?” The question came as he was avoiding high kick after high kick. Diana faltered, but only slightly.



“You’re not enjoying yourself, Bruce?” Wonder Woman asked, swiping the tip of her blade at his chest and missing by less than half-an-inch.



“I didn’t say that,” Batman replied, doubling back to get some distance between them, slowing the momentum of their fight. “I was just wondering…What’s say we make this more interesting?”



“Oh?” Diana said, eyebrow raised. “What do you propose?”



“We lose the weapons,” he replied, throwing his truncheons aside. “And you take out your lasso.”



“My lasso? What for?” Wonder Woman asked, lowering her sword.



“If you manage to tie me with it…” He said, a devilish smirk finding his face. “…you can ask me anything you want.”



Diana paused. It seemed so unlike Batman to suggest such a thing, but she had to admit to herself…she was intrigued.



“Come on, Diana. You never played truth or dare?” Batman said, clearly sensing her trepidation and looking to goad her into accepting his proposal. She wondered, what game was he playing? What trick did he have up his sleeve?



“Okay,” she said, throwing her sword to the side of the room and removing her Lasso of Truth from her belt. “I’m game. Though what do you get if you evade me?”



“The honour of besting an Amazon,” he said, squaring off against her. “Deal?”



“Deal.” She replied.



They started slowly circling each other, staring resolutely into one another’s eyes. Wonder Woman twirled her lasso in a languid but steady rhythm as she waited for that one moment where stillness would break into action, where civility would be sundered and battle would be joined.



The moment came. Batman rushed at her, alternating judo attacks with kickboxing moves, throwing Wonder Woman off-balance, making her scramble.



“Hh!” He grunted as he ducked and parried, his assault relentless. It was all Diana could do to avoid his strikes as she wondered to herself what kind of game she’d agreed to.



But then she saw an opening – Batman leaning all his weight on the one foot, leaving it vulnerable to attack. The moment she noticed it was the moment she seized on it, sweeping her leg in a kick that knocked the Caped Crusader backward.



Batman stumbled, tipped to fall over. Wonder Woman instinctively pressed the advantage, executing a series of lightning-fast, expert manoeuvres that left the Dark Knight on the floor with his back pressed up against the wall, her lasso binding his arms.



Diana ran a hand through her hair, moving aside the locks that had fallen in her face. She stood over Batman with a look of quiet triumph.



“Concede, Mr Wayne?” She said.



“Touche, your highness,” he grumbled, though it was with an inscrutable expression that Diana could swear was wry amusement. “So…what would you ask of me?



Diana considered the question as she looked down at him, his muscles bulging beneath the tight restraints of her lasso. He was completely at her mercy, and the thought of it sent a dark, shivering thrill through her body that, the moment it occurred, she banished to the furthest corners of her mind.



There were so many questions she wanted to ask but out of all of them, she thought to ask the first amongst the number; the most obvious one, the one she couldn’t fathom the answer to.



“…Tell me; did you allow yourself to be tied up?”



He didn’t reply immediately. In fact, he took a lot longer in replying than anyone else had when under the influence of the lasso.



“—Yes.” He finally answered, though he made no gesture to elaborate.



“Why?” She asked him.



“—Because…” He said, still managing to resist the lasso’s power, if only slightly. “…because there was no other way to have an honest conversation with you about—about us.”



“Us?” Wonder Woman repeated. Though she’d been working out for an hour, her heart only now began to race.



“Yes. The attraction we feel for one another. How much I want to act upon it, but—but how I can’t allow myself to…” Batman said, the words coming from him begrudgingly.



“You want to…act upon it?” Wonder Woman asked, realising for the first time how her breath had caught in her chest. She exhaled, trying to remain calm.



He looked at her. In her star-spangled costume with her flushed skin, her plump lips, her perfect, pillowy cleavage…she looked truly amazing. And more to that, he could tell she was struggling to maintain her composure. Anyone else might have been fooled, but he knew better.



“Yes.” He said.



“How…how so?” She said with halting curiosity, with wide-eyed need.



“I want to…want to…” Batman strained against the ropes and said no more, remaining silent for the longest time. Wonder Woman stood astonished. For the first time that she’d experienced, it seemed a mortal might actually defy the power of her lasso.



“I want to fuck you, Diana.” He finally said bluntly, hungrily.



“What?” She said, shocked by the candour of his statement.



“I want more than that,” he continued. Now that the lasso had overcome the biggest block, the revelations started to pour from him. “Much more. But on its most basic level, that’s what I want. I look at you…your beautiful face; your raven black hair; the curve of your hips; your long, toned legs; the poise and grace with which you carry yourself…and all I want is to touch you, to taste you, to experience you in all your wonder and glory.”



Wonder Woman stand transfixed as Batman bared his soul to her. Though he still wore his cowl, his face and eyes obscured, Diana felt for the first time Bruce’s mask slipping away from him.



He continued,



“I want it so much it eats at me. I tried to bury it deep, to ignore it, but it’s all I can think of when I’m with you, and the only way I could imagine to tell you was to execute another of my little gambits, another of my manipulations. I would understand if you wanted to…minimise our association from now on, but I just had to tell you how much I—.”



Batman’s thought went unfinished as Wonder Woman knelt down, her thighs falling either side of his hips, her hands firm on his shoulders as she pulled him forward, her lips hot on his, her tongue slipping into his mouth, desperate to savour him.



They lost themselves to the rolling waves of their kisses, experiencing each other in a way they never had before. Diana was flooded with excitement and joy as she discovered that Bruce’s perfectionist expertise extended beyond his crime-fighting abilities – he was also the best kisser she’d ever had.



“Oh, Bruce…” she said, mumbling between his lips, between gasps of air. “It’s you I’ve wanted…so much… for so long! All I’ve ever wanted is you!”



They continued on like this for countless minutes, Wonder Woman stroking Batman’s cheek and chin, her tongue entwined with his, his arms still bound by her lasso.



Positioning herself firmly on his lap, she thrilled to the feel of his shaft straining beneath his pants. With her breath caught in her chest, she pulled away from him only slightly, staring deep into his eyes as she reached down to toy with his utility belt, surprised when it snapped open almost of its own accord.



“And here I thought you took precautions against this coming off too easily in someone else’s hands.” She said, pulling the belt free.



“That depends on whose hands they are.” He replied with a dark smile.



“Still, it leaves me to wonder,” she said, her fingers curling around the edge of his pants and shooting him a teasing look. “Will these come off just as easily?”



“Only one way to find out.” He said, shifting forward to accommodate her. She grinned with lascivious delight as, at a measured pace, she pulled the Batman’s pants down.



When his cock sprang free from beneath the material, Diana let out an audible gasp. She blushed at the lapse in her composure but she couldn’t contain it. As his hard, meaty dick pointed up at her, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, she marvelled at how impressive it was. She had seen gods with less to be proud of.



Though she did it without realising, Wonder Woman licked her lips.



“By Zeus’s cock you’re big!” She breathed, greedily taking in the sight. He looked to grow even harder at the sound of her admiration though he remained resolutely quiet, ceding control of the situation entirely to her.



She reached out her hand tentatively, her fingernails brushing the length of his shaft. It twitched and bobbed in response, though Batman remained as stoic as ever. Diana, growing determined to get a response out of him, circled her grip around the girth of him, holding him warm and tight.



“Hhn!” Batman grunted, and Wonder Woman smiled with satisfaction.



“I have to admit, there’s something I’ve always been curious about,” she said as she started a slow rubbing of his cock, stroking him up and down. “…Would your infamous resolve and self-control stand up under, how would you put it?…hmmm, shall we say…oral persuasion?”



Her sapphire eyes sparkled at him as she slid her ass down the length of his body, her face drawing closer and closer to his lap until her lips were poised just above the pulsing head of his shaft.



She squeezed him hard as she opened her mouth wide to accommodate his thick dick, her lips sliding over his helmet and down along the length of him.



“Ff!” Batman hissed as he felt Wonder Woman swallow inch after inch of his burning member. Diana moaned with contented achievement at that. If she was getting that response from him now, what would she loose from him when she really got going?



For his part, Bruce wanted to reach out to her, to run his hands through her hair, but with his arms still bound he had no choice but to lay back, losing himself to the elation of this experience, to the sensation of her head and her hand moving in unison, to the alluring scent of her exotic perfume mixing with her salty sweat.



“MmmmmNnnnn,” Wonder Woman moaned around his shaft as she pulled her mouth back up, the flared head popping from between her lips. “Is that good, Bruce? Is it everything you ever dreamed of?”



She kept the pressure up on him as she worked his cock in her grasp, flickering the underside of his cock’s helmet with her tongue.



“God yes…” he said, the lasso overcoming any hesitancy he may have had in replying. “…though I still want so much more.”



“You do?” She asked, perfectly playing the role of wide-eyed ingenue. “Well…I can accommodate that.”



She lunged forward, swallowing him down again with every drop of desire she’d ever had for him and had denied to herself, finally allowing herself to feel the hunger and now seizing the chance to sate it.



“Hrrrnh!” Bruce exclaimed, his hips bucking as he felt her mouth so hot and wet and sucking him so tight.



Her black curls bounced as her lips sawed up and down the length of him, her throat convulsively swallowing as she pumped the base of his shaft with her fist.



“Nnnn! Mmmm-hhhh-mmmmnnnnn!” Wonder Woman muttered and breathed, her entire world made up of the taste and texture of him. Her bottom lip grew wet as she drooled, any semblance of propriety having long since disappeared.



“Oh fuck!” Batman cursed, his restraint falling away piece by piece. “Diana, it feels so good but I—I—!”



Wonder Woman pulled up, her saliva shining on Bruce’s pulsating member.



“…But what?” She asked, suddenly worried that she’d pushed too far too fast. He was going to tell her to stop, she was sure of it.



“I want to taste you.” He growled with ravenous determination. Diana broke out into a wide and wicked grin.



“I can’t think of anything I’d like better,” she said, before adding with a tease. “…though I don’t know if I’m ready to let you out of your bonds just yet.”



“Oh?” He said. “Do you have something in mind?”



Wonder Woman simply chuckled in response.



She shuffled further down, hovering by his knees, before she used her considerable strength to pull him down with her so that his back was no longer pressed against the wall. Instead, he found himself lying flat on the polished black floor, his arms still tethered to his sides.



“Reciprocity was always a virtue that was heavily stressed on Themyscira…” she said, taking one last and teasing look at her lover’s face before she spun around on her hands and knees, her thighs parting on either side of Batman’s head. “Tell me, can you give and take at the same time?”



He watched with breathless awe as Wonder Woman reached down to peel her star-spangled shorts from her magnificent ass, her beautifully-formed pussy being slowly revealed to the light.



Her pink folds glistened with the moisture of her arousal. Bruce’s mouth watered as he felt her weight shift onto his torso and navel, his dick rubbing up against the big, luscious tits that remained trapped in her red-and-gold bustier.



“Gladly.” He said in answer to her question, dragging his tongue up the length of her thigh and over the round of her ass, before sliding back down between her legs to lap at her damp outer folds.



“Aauuunnhh!” Diana gasped as Bruce’s tongue skirted her clit hood, teasing the small, swelling nub. Without meaning to she pushed backward, rubbing her mound into his face, the tip of his nose brushing her asscrack.



“Hnn.” He murmured, taking this as a cue to run a full-tongued lick up the length of her sodden slit.



“Uuunnhhhh! S-suffering Sappho!” Wonder Woman trembled. Spikes of fiery hot pleasure were lancing through her body, making her squirm. She reached a hand down between her legs to splay her juicy pussy open for the Batman, in desperate need of more of his lips, more of his talented tongue.



But more than that, she grew determined to offer him the same level of pleasure. She refocused her attention on the straining shaft before her, stroking it hard and fast as she took to slurping loudly on the bulbous, dusky head.



Ssslllllrrrrp! Ppplllpppp! Shhhlllrrrhhhpp!” Lewd noises echoed in the empty space of the training room as she sucked the Dark Knight’s cock with everything she had, fuelled by the overwhelming desire that bubbled inside her.



“Unh! Nn!” Batman groaned, her extraordinary oral skills threatening to splinter his focus. He managed to maintain it however, channelling the exquisite joy she was offering him into his own efforts, doubling the strength and speed of his tongue-lashing. His gloved hands flexed by his side, unable to utilise them in his pleasuring of her.



“Fffffahhh! Hhaah!” Wonder Woman cried out, her pelvis shuddering, saliva dangling from her chin as she gurgled around Batman’s cock. She was getting too close to climax too quickly. This was an experience that she wanted to savour, and if she came now it wouldn’t be quite as powerful as it would be if she managed to hold off.



So, with shaking reluctance, she pulled her steaming pussy away from Bruce’s incredible mouth, dismounting him like she was stepping down off a steed. Now it was his turn to be concerned that things were being brought to an untimely end.



“Diana?” He asked. “What—?”



“Shhh,” she said with her finger to her lips. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”



She crawled up the length of his body until they were once again face-to-face, where she took the opportunity to taste the flavour of her own arousal as she swallowed his lips and tongue in a voracious kiss.



Breaking away, Diana leaned back to sit up on Bruce’s lap. He watched with shivering need as she played with his cock, the twitching head pointing at the ceiling from between her parted thighs.



“A moment like this needs a certain amount of ceremony, don’t you think?” She asked, her hand slipping up and down his wet cock, pressing it against her thatch of pubic hair, against her rigid clitoris. “The moment where we take everything we’ve ever yearned for. The moment where we finally stop teasing each other—.”



As she spoke, she raised her hips, positioning the dripping lips of her pussy against the bulging head of his fat cock.



“—And start fucking each other.” She finished, pushing her body down, impaling her cunt on Batman’s waiting shaft.



“Oh Jesus yes!” Bruce hissed through gritted teeth while Diana, her brow knitted from the intensity of the moment, plunged herself down along the astonishing length of her lover’s cock.



By the time she’d reached the bottom, her labia grinding against Batman’s groin, she was so full of his dick it felt like it could come out her throat.



“Mmmmmighty Heraaaa!” Wonder Woman exclaimed in a long, drawn-out, breathy moan.



She sat stationary, squatting motionless on his dick while she adjusted to the overwhelming sensation of having his dick boiling so deep inside her. She could feel it as it throbbed and flexed within her, and the very idea of it was driving her wild.



“Oh Gods, Bruce!” She whimpered. “You’re—you’re so big! It feels so—so…!”



With great effort, she pulled herself up along the length of him, until the helmet of his shaft was just hovering at the entrance to her cunt, her pussylips clinging to the tight flesh of his cockhead.



She teased the both of them by holding off on pushing back down until neither of them could take it anymore. Just as Bruce was about to demand – if not plead – for her to fuck him, she slid down again, filling her quim with every steadfast inch of his dick.



“Hah!aaaah!” She cried out, finding the feel of it even more intense than the first time.



Wonder Woman continued this rate for several excruciating minutes, raising and lowering herself on Batman’s cock at a deliberately torturous pace, making the Dark Knight sweat beneath his mask and flooding her pussy with desire.



As her desire grew, however, her resolve buckled. Soon enough, Diana was slamming herself up and down on Bruce’s dick, fucking him and herself with everything she had, both their loins humming with energy.

“Great fucking Gaia, Bruce!” She shrieked, throwing her head back, her wildly bouncing breasts threatening to burst from her body armour. “Oh Gods! Gods!



“Hnn! Nnn!” He grunted, bucking up beneath her in time with the slapping of her thighs. With his eyes clenched shut, he was once again taken by surprise when she froze in place, opening them just in time to see her swinging one leg up and over his head.



With incredible gymnastic talent, she brought the other leg around, repositioning herself so that she now faced away from him in reverse-cowgirl fashion – and all without ever having let his dick slip from her gluttonous cunt.



“Oh, Diana!” He groaned, amazed by both her flexibility and the feeling of her ploughing herself up and down on his cock at an entirely new angle. “You’re so—hrrhn—!”



His words were lost as she lent forward, pushing him in even deeper than he’d managed before.



“Oouuuaannnhhhhhhh!”



“Hhhhnn!”



They both exclaimed, the feeling of his long, broad cock burrowed inside her so terribly intense.



With his vision practically blurred with pleasure, it took a while for Bruce to spot the reason Diana had spun around. He had started by staring at her perfectly-shaped ass and the way it flexed as she fucked him but then, across the room, he caught a glimpse of motion.



Looking past Wonder Woman’s curvaceous body, he saw the both of them mirrored perfectly in the dark glass of the Watchtower’s floor-to-ceiling windows, their ghostly forms reflected over the background of the Earth rotating below them.



Catching his eyes in the reflection, Wonder Woman’s face lit up with a vivacious grin.



“Like the view, Bruce?” She asked, her legs parted wide on either side of him, her pink pussy like a blossoming flower, the petals stretched open to accommodate his thick trunk. The golden cups of her bustier were now pulled so low that her ample cleavage was spilling over the edge of them, her nipples only barely covered.



“So much…” He said, straining for the first time against his bonds. “…that all I want to do is reach out and touch it.”



Wonder Woman laughed, though it was half-lost in her breathlessness as she slowly pumped herself on Batman’s crotch. She answered him with a voice that was knotted in her chest,



“You’ll get your chance,” she said, her eyes drifting shut and her head leaning back as she gyrated on the Dark Knight’s groin. “I pr—promise!”



She ran her tongue over her lips, moistening them. Batman watched her quietly, transfixed by the erotic display. His concentration grew sharper as he watched Wonder Woman run her hand over her breasts, down along her stomach to stroke his balls.



Bruce shuddered as Diana tickled his tight scrotum with only the barest of touches. Just as he started to thrash, the tiny amount of contact proving all too much, she shifted her attention, focusing instead on touching and teasing her clit as she continued to ride the Bat’s pole.



“Ah! Uhhh! Mmmm!” She gasped and uttered, building her rhythm until she was once more fucking Bruce with all the speed she had to muster.



Sllp! Whap! Pllp! Her pussy slurped and her ass slapped as she bounced up and down on the man she’d for so long dreamt of, finding the reality every bit as fulfilling as the fantasy, if not more so.



“Oh! Oh Brrrr-uce!” She said, gasping and gulping for air as her fingers literally blurred on her clitoris, using the speed of Mercury to bring herself off. “Oh fuck, Bruce! I can’t — can’t hold off anymore! I need to—to—-I need to cum, my love! I need to cum so. Fucking. Baaaaadddd!”



Her face was flushed crimson. Sweat was rolling down her chest and pooling in her cleavage. Her thighs were slick and staining the grey of his costume. Stars were throbbing in front of her eyes.



And then she felt it. And then she heard it.



The sound of Batman grunting, the feel of his dick pulsating so horribly deep inside her.



“Ffffffhhhhrrrnnnn!” He groaned with tremulous force, thrashing beneath her. “Dd—Diana! Yes! Yyyyes!”



The very idea of the Dark Knight cumming inside her proved too much for Wonder Woman. She jammed her fingers down on her clit as she clamped her pussy tight around his thumping shaft, and her orgasm hit her like a charging centaur.



“Uuuuuunnnnnhhhhhh!! Ohhhh fffffuccckkkking Hadeeeeeessss!



She lunged up and down atop him, the tempo of her thrusts as erratic as her breathing, her pussy spasming. Her screams of release bounced and echoed around the room as she plunged herself down so hard and deep onto Batman’s dick it felt like the head was spearing her womb.



“Ohhh Goddess! Goddess yess!” She said, the last shockwaves pulsing from her pussy and tingling throughout every nerve of her body.



Her hands and legs shaking, Wonder Woman pulled herself off of Batman’s lap, his cock slopping out of her as she fell by his side. Winded, drenched with sweat, with her knees raw and muscles aching, she felt like she’d just gone 12 rounds with Darkseid.



In the background of her mind, beneath the whizzing static of neurones sparkling like a constellation in her brain, she realised for the first time what she’d called Bruce as she’d drawn close to her climax.



My love.



Had he noticed? She almost hadn’t. And would that small slip of the tongue prove to be the first thing to ever genuinely frighten the infamous Batman?



She looked over to find him already staring back at her, his breathing raw, his chest heaving.



“Diana,” he murmured. “That was so—so—.”



She couldn’t help but break out into a grin at his inarticulate wonder. Her joy deepened when he did the same, his smile the most unguarded she’d ever seen. It was also the most human she’d ever seen him look, even with the demonic garb he was still wearing, and it made her heart leap.



“I know exactly what you mean,” she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something that immediately commanded her attention. She looked at it, then back at him. “Bruce! You’re still hard!



“Hh,” he murmured, glancing away at the ceiling. “Tantric meditation is one of the aspects of my training regime. It has certain…benefits…as far as sex is concerned.”



“You mean…” Wonder Woman dipped a hand below her waist, swirled it in the sticky mess that her pussy had become, and failed to find even a stray drop of semen. “…You didn’t cum?”



“I didn’t ejaculate,” he said. “There’s a difference.”



She looked at him, astonished. He looked back at her, his face once more impassive. She burst out laughing,



“You really do train for everything, don’t you?”



“Hhn.” He grunted, his lips twisting in a smile. She brought her mouth to his, kissed him, stared deep into his eyes and lowered her voice as she asked,



“Tell me, Bruce…what would it take for you to lose control? I’ll do anything you want. Anything. Just tell me, what would it take for the Batman to finally, fully, give in to temptation? Hmm?”



She ran her hand along his torso as she spoke, tracing the curve of his pecs, the rigid mass of his abs. His jaw clenched as he once again did all he could to resist the power of her lasso.



“I—n!—I can’t…”



“Come on, Bruce,” she said, reaching up to pull on the rope, the golden glow of its coils burning bright as it worked to drive the truth out of the Caped Crusader. “Truth or dare.”



“I want to—I want to—!” He said, leaving her to wonder what secret need could be so deep and dark that he would take such pains to keep it from her.



“Yes?” She asked.



“I want to fuck you…in your ass.” He said, the revelation coming with more than a degree of relief as he finally relented to the lasso’s power.



“You—you what?” She said, once more taken aback by one of his eye-opening disclosures.



“Your ass, Diana. I want to fuck it.” He said. She almost looked away from how intensely he was staring at her.



“You do?”



“How could I not? Watching your perfect ass running around in those star-spangled shorts. It’s maddening,” he said, straining against the ropes. Disquieted by how reservedly Diana was reacting, he gently added, “I hope I haven’t…said too much.”



She looked at him, scrutinising him and everything he hid behind his mask. She looked away.



“We…we could do that.” She said delicately.



His eyes narrowed, his brow creasing. “Really?”



She looked back at him, her pearly white teeth flashing in a smile that gave the greatest insight into the untamed streak that ran through the heart of her.



“I am Greek, aren’t I?” She said, and they both laughed with the intimacy of lovers.



“But there’s a catch.” She continued as she pulled herself up from the ground, planting a kiss on his chin as she went. He stared up at her – a goddess looking freshly fucked – with more than a little wonder.



“And that is?” He said, manoeuvring himself up into a sitting position as she walked across the training room. Her boots clacked on the cold, hard floor as she strolled over to the window, inattentively shedding her clothes as she went.



Her fingers unsnapped hidden clasps on her corset, loosening it as she reached the glass pane. She looked over her shoulder, her expression enough to melt even the most frozen of men, as she pulled the bustier from her body, whipping it off to dangle it in one outstretched hand. With her back to him, and standing in nothing more than her tiara, her bracelets and her red-and-white boots, she said to him,



“You can have it, Bruce. You can fuck my ass. But…!” she said, dropping the corset, leaving her hands free to run over her body down to her ass. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she pried her cheeks apart, exposing the little pink rosebud of her asshole. “…You have to come and claim it!”



Batman’s chest rose and fell as adrenaline flooded his veins. He’d lost count of the number of death traps he’d been caught in over the course of his life, how many times he’d been tied up and left for dead. Now, however, was the one moment in all that time that he most desperately wanted – needed – his freedom.



As she watched him begin to struggle against his bonds, Wonder Woman did her best to hide the exhilarated smile that threatened to overwhelm her. She turned her face back to the glass, content to listen to him as he grunted and thrashed.



She wanted to see what the Batman was truly capable of but, more than that, she wanted to see how much he wanted it. How much he wanted her.



“I’m waiting, Bruce.” She said, and to emphasise her point she began to dip her fingertips in and out of her pussy, drawing the fluid she found there up to run it in circles around her asshole. She swore she heard him audibly groan at the sight of it, which only made her wetter.



She looked out the window at the glowing Earth below them with half-closed eyes, the serenity of the sight and the feel of her fingers in her slit distracting her completely. Her eyelids drifted shut as she got caught up in the feel of her fingers on her clit, her knuckles delving inside her cunt.



Just as she was starting to consider releasing Batman from the lasso – after all, he was only human, and the lasso was crafted by the gods themselves – she felt a presence behind her.



Wonder Woman glanced back. He was standing directly behind her, the lasso unwound and abandoned on the far side of the room.



“Hera! How did you…?”



He didn’t allow her amazement to offset him. Instead, he pulled her up against the warmth of his body, kissing her from over her shoulder as he brought one hand up to fondle her breast, the other sliding over the curve of her ass.



“You’ve kept my hands from me for too long,” he broke off their kiss just long enough to say. “It’s my turn now.”



He delved back into her lips, her tongue, as he ran his left hand between her formidable tits, squeezing their hefty mass and teasing her nipples. With the right, he ran teasing fingers over her sopping mound, making her shift her thighs wider apart to accommodate the glorious things he was doing to her.



“Mmmmm! Hunh! Ah!” She cooed and gasped as he began to work his fingers in and out of her. His chest pressed into her back, leaning her forward so that her cheek and breasts pressed against the glass, her nipples immediately stiffening against the cold surface.



Wonder Woman’s breath fogged up the window as Batman searched out her clitoris. When he brushed it with his glove, she jolted with the sexual charge it ignited in her.



“FFFUH! Oh, fuck!” She cried out, grinding herself against him, her cunt sticky in his grasp, her tight ass pressed against the throbbing of his shaft.



She’d found, since coming to Patriarch’s World, that most men regarded the clitoris as a big red button, an instantaneous trigger that unleashed pleasure like a trigger on a gun. As a result, many of the lovers she’d taken over the years had jammed on and grinded the sensitive nub to the point of rubbing it raw.



Batman was different. His touches were light, precise, stroking her to the edge of ecstatic oblivion before backing off once more, raising and lowering and raising again her cries of pleasure, like a master pianist reciting the grandest of concertos.



“Nnnnnnhhhh…” She groaned, trying to collect herself after being lost to the proficiency of his fingers. “I thought…I thought you were going to…to take me in my ass.”



He brushed her hair back from her ear, allowing him to suck and nibble on the lobe.



“Oh, I will,” he said. “But we need something in the way of preparation first. And I always come prepared.”



She heard the snap of what sounded like an opening lid, then shivered when she felt a cool rush of liquid squirting on her ass.



“W-what is that?” She asked as the fluid dribbled between her cheeks.



“I palmed a bottle of lube from my utility belt earlier.” He replied, working the slick fluid into her asscrack.



“Oh!” She exclaimed as he gently but firmly pressed a finger into her hole, her breath growing increasingly laboured. “Is…unh!…is there anything you don’t have in that…in that blessed belt of yours? Mnh!”



“Everything but shark repellent,” he said, his voice warm and intimate as he dropped the bottle on the floor, next to her bustier. “I want you, Diana. Now.”



“Then by Hera, Bruce…” she replied, arching her back and pushing her ass at him as she threw him a look from over her shoulder. “…take me!”



He needed no further prompting. She bit her lip as she felt the bulging mushroom head of his cock press up against the delicate cherry of her sphincter. With gentle care but unwavering resolve, he pressed forward and into her, parting the tight ring of her anus and sliding his helmet inside.



“Rnnnnnn! Uah!” Wonder Woman cried out, the feel of it so agonizingly intense. “Fffhh! Mnnhhh!”



Batman paused.



“Shall I continue?”



“Please!!” Diana said, already adjusting to the thick rod of his member pressing up in her most sensitive of holes. She’d never had anything so big in her ass in all her life, and though the sensation was a powerful one, it was by no means unpleasant. As proof of that, her pussy simmered and tightened with the desire that was coursing through it, her asshole following suit.



Batman eased his cock deeper into Wonder Woman’s flawless ass, filling up her back passage slowly but surely. Her ass was so blindingly tight and smooth, with only a trace of grit to distinguish it from the texture of fucking her pussy.



“Oh. My. Gooddddddzzzzzzzzzz!” Wonder Woman screamed as he finally pushed the last few inches of his dick into her rectum. She stood rigid and convulsing as she adjusted to the feeling of it, teetering on the balls of her feet as her mind swam in an ocean of passionate fulfilment.



He placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at his reflection in the window.



“Ready?” He asked.



Wordlessly, she nodded.



He started slowly, making sure they both felt every ridge and vein pulling in and out of her ass. His dick was thickly covered in the lube, her asshole puckering with the liquid as it widened, growing increasingly used to the size of his member.



Her muscles relaxed, Diana surrendered herself to the fiery pleasure of Bruce’s shaft working inside her, allowing him to sluice it in and out of her with greater speed and increasing intensity.



“Nnnhhh! Annnhhhh! Hhnnnnnfff!” She moaned, tremulously sucking in air and exhaling it. She pushed back at him as he pistoned his cock in her succulent ass.



“Hrrn! Aa!” Batman grunted, her asshole gripping him so tightly, the friction of their fucking building a static charge in both their bodies.



His shaft was moving so fluidly in her ass that he was now able to give her every single hard-ramming ounce of it, her asscheeks rippling as his pelvis slapped against them.



Pulling out of her until only the tip of the head remained at the edge of her asshole, he’d then plunge his cock back inside her with one hard stroke, making her yelp with every thrust.



“Oh ffff-uck! Fuck! Fuck me…Bruce! Fuck my ass…!” She panted, her face contorted with a most unbearable pleasure.



But then he pulled back too far, his cock popping from her hole, losing its angle, missing the entry.



“Ooooouunnnhhh Hera!” She cried out, the heat of her need burning her up. “Put it back in! I need it! Put your cock back inside me NOW!



Her nails scratched marks in the surface of the window as she did everything she could to contain her starved wanting. She stared up at Batman’s reflection, shoving her ass back at him as she desperately tried to tempt him back into fucking her with all the power and passion he had been only a second previously.



Instead, he took her in his arms, spinning her around to kiss her, their tongues tangling as he ran his hands over her breasts, feeling and squeezing them as he got his first unrestricted, full-frontal view of their bare, natural wonder.



Though her waist was tiny her breasts were huge, swaying heavily as she turned to face her masked lover, swelling so soft and warm against his sculpted chest. Despite their size they were incredibly buoyant, seemingly untouched by gravity. They were, in a word, perfect.



Batman was so distracted by the sight of Wonder Woman’s breasts and the perfect circles of her hard, rose-coloured nipples that his mind was left as free-floating as the space station they now stood in.



“Bruce…” she whispered, piercing him with those striking blue eyes. She reached up, touched the edge of his cowl, took hold of it. “…Bruce, please…”



She kissed him, gentle but simmering, as she pulled the mask from his face, revealing his eyes as the colour of twilight and the perfect mirror to her own, his midnight black hair spilling out from beneath the hood.



When their lips parted, he looked at her in a way she’d never seen before, as a man overcome with emotion, with longing and hunger and need.



They wasted no more time. No more words. They joined together, their kisses an unbroken chain as they fell to the ground together, Bruce on top of Diana, the throbbing head of his cock seeking out the warmth and refuge of her welcoming cunt.



Her pussylips parted as he eagerly sank his shaft inside her. Her nails scratched the length of his back as she wrapt her legs around his waist, pushing her hips back against him as he humped against her, fucking her in all her majesty.



“Oh yes!! Yesss!” She wailed, his mouth still hot against her lips as she trembled and reared against him, her legs sticking up high in the air above them. “Oh Eros yes!!!



Bruce once again found himself staggered by the sight of Diana’s large breasts as they bounced hypnotically beneath him to the rhythm of his driving cock. Hunching forward, he sucked one milky white tit into his mouth, flicking the nipple between his lips.

Author’s note:



Here we go again. Part 7 of a one-part serial.



Questions answered, questions asked, and fan-service for everyone who wanted Sable to take charge and give subs everywhere something to fantasise about.



This really is a series in rigidly ordered parts, not a series of loosely connected stories set in the same universe. If you haven’t read the rest, you will have no idea what is going on.



Now, let the action commence.




#



“FUCK IT!”



Outside the laboratory door Catherine took a deep breath, smoothed down clothes that didn’t wrinkle and braced herself. It was her turn.



The door slid open with the smooth, low purr built in to announce it was working.



The Engineer was standing against a high desk, leaning on his elbows with his head in his hands.



After the first time one of them had tried to tiptoe up to him, she made sure her heels clicked on the floor.



“MRI,” he said as she got closer. “CT scans. Functional MRI. PET. None of it shows any fucking difference, and I don’t know if any of it is different to normal humans anyway!



“FUCK IT!”



He straightened up suddenly and hurled a pen straight through a monitor and its metal frame and out the other side, embedding it in the wall.



“Collecting scientists doesn’t work because they live by this world’s rules, so they don’t know there is any difference between humans and … them.



“I can build a machine that finds Supers, but it doesn’t work on you two. I can’t build a machine that finds humans, it just DOESN’T. FUCKING. WORK!”



He stood very upright and very still, breathing heavily with his hands clenched into fists by his side as the broken bits of monitor finished tickling to the bench and the ground.



She took a deep breath and opened her mouth.



His hand shot up, one finger extended in the universally recognised “shush” gesture.



“I’m going to let some steam off,” he said in a very controlled voice, turned sharply and marched out the door. The last thing she heard before the door closed behind him was a very polite “Could you please clean that up?”



#



Arnaud made coffee by instinct, avoided finding out the dangers of playing with boiling water while naked, found china cups and a silver tray and carried it all back through to the bedroom.



He stepped inside the door and instantly froze, blind and unable to move as black bands appeared over his eyes and around his calves, thighs, and chest and upper arms.



He was lifted off the ground and the tray lifted out of his hands before his arms were forced to his sides and bound there.



He instinctively reached out to the link between him and Sable and instead of a clean line through to her mind he found a muddy, vague sense of direction ending in a flaming wall of anger.



“Try and get into my mind again,” she said with the dispassionate, even tones of absolute certainty, “and I will rip your balls off.”



He felt a band encircle his scrotum at the base and slowly tighten, stretching it and forcing his testicles together. She didn’t stop until he gasped in pain.



“Do you understand me?”



“You did not want me to? You asked me what my powers were …”



He screamed as the band around his scrotum clenched.



“You did not get permission to use them. You’re new in this city, you’re new in this world, so I’ll tell you this very clearly. You can choose to be good or evil but if you choose evil I will hunt you down like a dog.”



“I believe I am a Villain,” he said tentatively, but she cut him off with a force he almost felt as physical.



“FUCK THAT. You are a HUMAN now, do you hear me? That means you make your own fucking decisions.



“I was bought into this world as a Hero. I thought what we did was pretty fucking stupid, and the way we went about it even more so.



“Then I came here and suddenly because I wear black I’m a Villain. Well, fuck that. I am what I make me. I look after myself and I choose to look after people who get in the way of selfish, fucked-in-the-head Villains or who get caught in the crossfire when Heroes with simplistic fucking value systems fire at will.



“And you are NOT going to just accept some fucking label put on you by fate because the mere fact of being human means you make your own fucking fate, do you fucking understand me?”



“This word ‘fucking’, …” he began.



“Is multiply useful,” she said brusquely. “It began as another verb for sex, now it can be whatever you want it to be, mostly emphasis. Don’t dodge the fucking question.”



“I think I understand you,” he said slowly.



“Good. Because I am telling you: I decide to be a Hero now. You live in this city, you make a life here, and by any gods anybody here believes in if you fuck with the people of this city I will fuck you up because I am appointing myself defender of anyone who can’t look after themselves, I don’t care how fucking unofficial I am about it.



“Because I don’t care about their status – if they’re old humans, or brand new, or just making up the scenery. While they look human they deserve all the rights of humans, you got that?”



There was silence, for not quite too long. “I understand you,” he said. “How am I to tell what is right and what is wrong?”



“What did you get while raping my fucking mind?” she snapped at him.



He was silent again. “Emotions,” he finally said. “Something … empathy?”



“Good. You keep that. You throw away the rest but you keep that. You feel what you do to people and you remember that.”



He almost nodded, but her bands still kept him locked rigidly in position. “Okay.”



She stared at him, drawing the silence out until he wondered what he had missed, what he was supposed to say. “Can I trust you?” She finally asked. “Can I trust you to behave yourself and stay the fuck out of my head?”



“I promise I will not do that again, now I know what I am doing,” he said with sincerity in his voice.



She stared at him, drawing the silence out past the point of discomfort once more. “Good. And believe me, if you try you may even succeed but I will go down fighting, and if you ever let me go again I will see to it I destroy you as completely as a Super can be destroyed.”



He didn’t need to wonder about the emotion the tone of her voice induced in him then. He knew immediately it was fear.



#



“Good afternoon!”



The Engineer’s only reply was a strangled moan of exhaustion and pain.



His latest guest was a Heroine called Mercura who dressed in a miniskirt and low-cut latex blouse, cape, face-mask, gloves to over her elbows and boots to mid-calf and who could project blasts of energy from the space in front of her belly.



She needed to curl forwards and use her hands to summon the ball of energy, so the Engineer had shackled her wrists and ankles to the corners of the room, face-up, and lifted her off the ground by a belt around her waist, arching her backwards.



Lying down, she would have been merely helpless. But by stretching her in a backwards arch around a thin belt cutting into her back he kept her in a constant state of tension and pain.



She may have been able to endure it if he hadn’t already conducted a full interrogation, but even a Super can reach exhaustion with an hour of continuous arousal followed by half an hour of orgasms while being forced to answer questions.



But not even a tall, fit, big-breasted Heroine in the throws of continuous orgasm had been able to distract the Engineer from his frustrations after she was unable, even in a state of complete delirium, to give him any insights into the nature of the reality of the world they were in.



He hadn’t even fucked her himself.



He fully intended to change that.



As he walked in the door she was side-on to him. He stopped a moment to admire the graceful, strained arch of her torso and limbs and the way he had kept her breasts out of the way by pulling her nipples up, using the rings he had inserted out of habit, pulling them at an exactly calculated angle perpendicular to her chest.



For purposes of symmetry, he had done the same thing to her clit, the thin lines from either end of her body now nicely balanced, the slight stretch on her clitoris sufficient to reduce her to mindless flesh but not cause any unnecessary pain.



She was still sweating and still delirious, body shivering as the piercings kept her at a level of arousal that should not, physiologically, have been possible even for a Heroine for so long.



He strolled slowly around her, relishing the view from all angles as he stepped over the chain holding her right wrist and moved in front of her. For the sake of convenience, he had strung her up so her head and hips were at approximately hip height, and then bought in a chair so he could interrogate her face to upside-down face.



He sat in that chair and regarded her.



The proud, defiant and noble face of the Heroine was now drawn, red, sweat-covered, slack-jawed and with unfocused, staring eyes. He had tied her hair to the floor to keep her head in one spot and it was pulling her forehead taut.



He waved in front of her vacant gaze. “Anybody home?”



Not even her pupils reacted.



With a sigh he took the remote out of his pocket and relaxed the tension on the three lines to her piercings.



She responded surprisingly rapidly, tone returning to her face and her eyes settling, coming together and focusing on him. She tried to speak, but it was a dry rasp.



He bent down for the water bottle by his feet. It was in the shape of a large dildo and the drinker had to suck hard to open the valve.



She already knew what it was and thirst overrode any revulsion she might still have. She opened her mouth wide and he slid it smoothly and with the ease of practice into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed and she drank a litre from the self-filling reservoir before she stopped sucking.



He pulled it out of her mouth. “You were saying?” He asked, politely.



“What do you want with me?” she croaked. “I couldn’t answer any of your questions. What do you still want with me?”



“Well …” he began, then stopped and frowned. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to have reached that point in bargaining, ever. There was a script – near two hundred years had taught him exactly what it was. She was supposed to …



“If it would help at all,” she whispered, “I promise not to attack you if you let me down.”



She was definitely not supposed to say that!



“Who are you?” he snarled, eyes narrowing. “And what have you done with the two-dimensional NPC I left strung up in these chains?”



“I am still Mercura,” she croaked. What is an ‘NPC’? I don’t understand.”



He rubbed his eyes vigorously, opened them to see her staring at him in pain, confusion and something that was definitely resignation. She had given up.



She had given up.



They never give up.



It was a fundamental rule – Heroes never give up, never admit defeat, keep fighting in the face of the most blatant proof they’ve lost, all up until their minds are controlled.



But she had given up.



He leaned forwards in the chair to stare into her eyes, nose to forehead.



“Were you human?” he asked, harshly.



“No,” she gasped. “I was never human. I began here.”



This was becoming hard to take. He’d have to go and fuck one of his maids to recover composure, at this rate.



He took a deep breath. “How old are you?”



“I’m not sure … maybe a year.”



One year? That was far more random than he had guessed.



“When did you have this sudden realisation?” he asked flatly.



“I’m not sure … I just … realised.”



He looked at her, dragging the moment out while trying to sort it through in his head and the look on her face, without the constant stimulation to her clitoris keeping her consciousness suppressed, becoming more and more drawn and stressed.



“What do you want with me?” she asked again, breaking the silence first. “Do you want to fuck me? Let me down and I’ll fuck you.”



He blinked, completely blind-sided. That was far too much like Sable, and unbalanced him for a second too long to maintain his composure.



“You’re a Heroine,” he snarled. “Heroine’s do pure and chaste, they don’t offer to fuck their captors to be let off punishment.”



“Why not?” she gasped, staring him straight in the eye. “You’ve done everything else to me. You’ve tormented me with sex for I don’t know how long. I can’t remember everything you’ve done to me. I got captured two weeks ago and raped and I didn’t enjoy it but you’ve forced me to enjoy this.



“So fuck me. Tie me to a bed if you like. Rape me as much as …”



“STOP!” He held up his hand, shaking a little with a confused mixture of bafflement, the fear of the strange and a murky rage at his assumptions being violated.



He pointed a quivering finger at his face. “You are changing,” he snarled. “You are evolving. You are becoming more intelligent, more self-aware and more reasonable. Soon you will be indistinguishable from actual human. Why are you doing that? HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT?”



“I don’t know!” she almost shouted, without the energy to do so properly, tears of frustration adding to the tears of pain in her eyes.



He abruptly lifted the remote, pressed it. The lines attached to her piercings tautened slightly. She moaned, eyes rolling back in her head but consciousness still lingering.



“Ask me again,” he said softly.



“Fuck meeee,” she groaned, body beginning to tremble in the inverted suspension.



“Be specific.”



“Shove your dick in me,” she gasped out. “Fuck my pussy. Please!”



“Beg to suck my cock. Beg to be allowed to suck my cock.”



Body and mind already broken, no amount of self-control could have prevented her from begging to wrap her lips around his head, begging to be allowed to suck him and show him what a good little cock-sucking whore she could be.



Her inventiveness impressed him so much he was convinced she wasn’t trying to deceive him, wasn’t just playing along with her kidnapper.



He slid off the chair into a crouch, ducked underneath her and came up between her legs, spreading his lab coat and pants with practiced ease and efficiency.



He turned off the tension once more and slipped the remote into his pocket before unclipping the line to the ring through her clitoris and flicking the thin cord out of the way.



“Mercura,” he said, mildly. “Are you sure you haven’t ever been fucked and enjoyed it?”



“No,” she whispered, barely audible to where he stood in front of her glistening, spread pussy.



“It feels like this,” he said, still mild, before seizing her hips, lining up and plunging in right to the core of her in one movement.



“OOOOHHHH, GOOODDDDD!”



He pulled back and slammed in, his cock swelling, stretching her, finding her limit in girth and length, filling her as completely as was possible, adjusting his hips and leaning slightly forwards so he slammed into her clitoris every time he bottomed out inside her.



Her body, stretched tight but not locked in position, writhed under his hands as he groped her wide hips, muscular ass and thighs, narrow waist and up to the unnaturally firm globes of her breasts.



He settled into the tireless, superhuman speed and power he could maintain for hours, letting a little precum leak to seep into her bloodstream and make her his, all the while keeping up a running monologue.



“This is what it feels like, and it can feel better. Later on it will feel better. Oh, it’ll take me a long time to finish with you. I’ll fuck your pussy until you cum, and I’ll fuck your ass until you cum, and I’ll fuck your mouth until I cum all over your pretty Super Heroine face and I’ll fuck your tits and drench you with my cum and all the time you’ll be desperate for more, you’ll be begging, you’ll be pleading, because this is what happens to Heroines after I’ve been playing with them for hours.



“You’ll recover, but until then you’ll be mine. You’ll be mine in body and soul and you’ll be my willing fucktoy desperate to do anything I tell you to do, any sordid thing with me and my other toys because I know your body, I know how it works and I know how to make it mine and right now, strung up like meat, you can’t fucking stop me.



“Now cum, bitch.”



He let himself shoot inside her as her scream hit a pitch to shatter glass and her body thrashed in her bonds, clamping around him feeling so good he wondered, as he always did, how a non-Super could ever satisfy him again.



He pulled out of her abruptly, leaving her body desperate for more, his cock sticking grotesquely huge out the front of his pants.



Then he pulled out the remote and lowered her to the ground, the bonds falling away from her limbs and her body as limp as a rag doll.



#



Arnaud felt himself moved forwards, still bound rigidly upright.



“The thing about having sex while under mental control,” Sable said, her voice dropping from angry to a calculated, meaningful purr that made his skin crawl from the more unmanning fear of the unexpected, “is that you don’t remember it all. It’s hazy, a jumble of sensations, emotions, images and snatches of events.



“The problem with that is, apart from being unsettling and just maybe intensely terrifying, is it’s unsatisfying.



“It’s just not fair if your body has all the fun and you didn’t experience it properly, you know?”



Arnaud could sense her standing right in front of him, not by his powers but by the prickling of his forehead. He could also sense, as adrenalin washed his system and the pressure from the band around his balls did not let up, an involuntary erection.



“Luckily, I have almost everything I need to correct that. And you’re now providing the missing piece very nicely.”



He futilely tried to jerk backwards when he felt her grab his erection but his fear, based in uncertainty and his growing awareness of morality, was being fought by a deeper, more basic excitement and a desire to return to the sex he had only just discovered.



She began slowly massaging his cock a little too hard, a little impersonal, almost mauling it.



“I think, for the good of your further education, you should experience what being a toy feels like.” Her voice dropped further, became a husky whisper that slowly caressed his libido even as it made him instinctively fight to get away. “I think I’m going to take my payment out of you.”



He was hard beyond the point of return now. His body refused to listen to the reservations of his mind, it just wanted stimulation.



He knew she had no power over his mind but that was now a moot point when he didn’t even have power over his own body.



He felt himself moving again, twisting in the air, turning so his sense of gravity became confused and he wasn’t sure where he was until he landed on his bed, face-up.



The bands around his balls and the base of his cock kept him pointing straight upwards.



The bed moved as she slid onto it, shifting and rolling him until he felt her thighs settle around his waist and his bound arms, her naked flesh pushing his into the bed. The sensation was more exciting than he could have expected.



She shifted and he felt her buttocks press around his vertically trapped shaft and begin slowly rubbing up and down. The sensation was silken, intimate, erotic but absolutely maddening because, by touching only the top of his shaft below the head, she avoided all the most sensitive flesh.



She twisted her hips and he felt the dampness on her lips slide over his cock a second before her nipples grazed his chest and her full and firm breasts pressed him against the bed.



“You used me entirely for your experience,” she whispered, so close her breath tickled his nose. “So I’m going to use you entirely for my pleasure. You’re my toy now until I’m satisfied. You bound my mind so I will bind your body. You won’t get to cum until I’m good and ready to let you, and since I don’t have powers of mind control, I may just have to use pain instead.”

He suddenly felt pressure against his anus, tried to jerk away again but could do nothing as it slowly built, something round pressing against him until, no matter how hard he desperately clenched, it forced inside him. He whimpered, the sense of violation jarring violently with the remembered image, from her mind, of how good this intrusion could feel.



He throbbed even harder.



“Feel that?” she purred, her breath tickling his face. “Just like Supers and their machines keep doing to me. It’s such a pity you can’t feel yourself being invaded front as well as back.”



The pressure in his arse grew and he felt the thing slide inside until it passed where he had nerve endings and kept moving. It stretched him until he whimpered in pain and then stopped. His cock was now throbbing constantly.



She slowly licked his face, sliding her tongue up one cheek from his jawline to over the band around his eyes. He whimpered again.



She moved, her flesh suddenly no longer pressing against his cock, leaping athletically up the bed, landing with her calves pressing against his shoulders. He could smell her suddenly, a sharp musk more intense and arousing than the mere scent of her skin.



“Open wide,” she said from far above him. “I know you know how.”



He did know, from flesh memories filtered murkily through how badly her mind had been destroyed at the time.



He opened his mouth and felt her move, lower herself onto him.



His first taste of her awoke second-hand memories in his mind and instincts in his body. He suddenly craved her, began licking and sucking on her lips, finding her entrance with his tongue and forcing his way inside her as she purred and gasped above him.



“I don’t know what it is,” she gasped, “about revenge that is … oh! … So FUCKING HOT!”



She grabbed his hair, forced his head up. His tongue slid out of her and along, finding a hard, protruding nub that made her shake and exhale violently when he traced its outline.



She crushed his mouth against her with both hands, making it difficult for him to breath as he desperately laved her until she shuddered violently, let out a long groan and wet his face.



The taste of her cum was new and exciting, and when she released him he started licking it off his chin until her fingers trapped his tongue.



“Leave some for me,” she purred, before her weight shifted again, he felt her roll sideways, twist and stretch to lie alongside him, not touching his now painful genitals before slowly licking his chin clean, lingering on every stroke of her tongue.



She sucked on his chin, then slid higher up and kissed him harshly. He eagerly returned the kiss until her thumb forced his jaw wide open and she explored inside his mouth with her tongue, still tasting of her own juices.



When she pulled back he had to gasp for air.



He felt her slither down his body, her skin sliding over his with skin-crawling eroticism, until he knew without feeling it that her mouth was next to his groin.



When her lips engulfed the head of his now painfully hard cock an uncontrollable shiver went through every cell of his body, making the skin on his head crawl.



She effortlessly slid further down, sliding him through the warm hollow of her mouth to the snug wetness of her throat and down, sheathing him inside her tight oesophagus. The sensations, as she slowly slid him in and out, sucking a little when just his head was behind her lips and then swallowing him back down again, made his nerves scream, a strangled gasp of half pleasure, half pain, all desperate frustration bursting from him.



She pulled off, leaving him aching for more and the bands around the base of his cock allowing him no closer to release.



“Have to get you properly lubricated,” she purred, the bed shifting as she moved and positioned herself. He whimpered behind his blindfold, knowing exactly what she meant, before her nether lips pushed down onto his head and she slowly impaled herself upon him.



She squeezed as she lowered herself, forcing her flesh around him, squeezing his head. The sensations from his cock were now fire and ice, his whole body alive and aroused but burning. He opened his mouth to scream and she plugged it with a short, thick gag that forced itself to the back of his throat. He took it without gagging, the memories from her head telling him how.



She purred as she settled herself fully onto him. He could feel the entrance to her womb deep inside her. She moved, pressing and rubbing him at her limit, gasping in pleasure as he tried to scream around the gag.



She began to ride him, pressing her palms into his chest to support her, breathing heavily, fucking herself on him as hard and as fast as a Super could, a searing ribbon of pain from his oversensitive cock only adding to his body’s lust.



Her breathing turned to gasps. Inside his head, curled around himself while his body was wracked by sensation, he was begging her to finish, to climax, to stop torturing him.



Her pussy around him clenched even harder, pure agony making his nipples stand up like bullets and his balls clench futilely, full of cum they couldn’t release.



She began shouting, urging herself on, moving in a blur of speed until she spasmed around him, squeezing his shaft so hard he nearly blacked out, her cum squirting out even from that seal, soaking his belly and thighs, his ears assaulted by the shriek of a Super in absolute, dominant ecstasy.



She fell onto him when she came off her peak, hungrily sucking and licking the sweat off his face, almost eating his flesh.



She lifted herself off his still impossibly rigid shaft, shuddering with delight as it slowly left cunt while he almost wept with relief.



He felt her lie down next to him, her leg thrown over his, her breasts pressing into his side as she lightly tickled his chest.



“Was that too much for you?” she purred into his ear, breath tickling him. “I had to last three hours of that torment once. Don’t tell me you big, strong men are weaker than us soft women?”



She began loosening the bands around his cock and his balls, very slowly, his nerves not capable of registering a small change they were so drained.



“I guess the rules are that every torture ends with the victim cumming, hmmm? So I guess I’ll have to make you cum, then, won’t I?”



He almost quailed from that, terrified of what it would feel like when he was finally allowed release.



Blood began to flow more freely in and out of his shaft, bringing the same sort of blessed relief as severe pins and needles bring to a cramped limb, but on a scale of a hundredfold.



“The question is,” she continued, her fingers softly running over where his chest was bare between his bonds, deftly avoiding his nipples, “is how.” She tweaked one nipple, sharply, the pain a muted, pleasurable spike to his libido after the torture from his groin.



“I really don’t want to do you any favours if you’re my prisoner, now do I?” She grabbed his nipple and stretched and twisted brutally, blood surging back into his cock, a pulse so close to cumming running through it.



“After all, little fuck-toys get used, they don’t get pleasured, am I right?” She switched to his other nipple, crimping it between her fingernails, stretching until his skin would stretch no more and then releasing it with a sharp snap. The sensation felt as good to his cock as her lips had.



He felt himself turned, rotated as if on a spit, facing away from her. The plug in his arse, which had faded into inconsequentiality, suddenly came back to sharp prominence in his mind.



She pressed up against him, breasts pillowing against his back, hard thighs against his, hips against his buttocks, and the plug shifted.



“I’ve always wanted to use a strap-on,” she purred into his suddenly newly terrified ear, “but I never liked girls. Which was always a dilemma, until now.”



She flexed her hips, and the plug inside him moved, stretching and rubbing his anus. He was still wearing the dildo gag and couldn’t whimper, but he tried anyway.



“Do you know your G-spot is inside your arse?” she asked him, chattily. “It’s true. Right up with your prostate.”



She began pumping her hips, fucking him with what was clearly a longer and thicker shaft than a mere plug.



He tried to squirm away but despite her distractions his bonds did not give a millimetre.



She buried the dildo inside him and wriggled her hips. He could only feel it at his entrance, but that was more than enough. His traitorous cock began to pulse, without touching anything but the air.



She lined herself up and began a long, slow, in-and-out stroke. “I was never quite sure what men saw in this,” she said, still friendly and chatty. “They always seemed to want to shove things in my arse. But you know, I can see the attraction of this. There’s such a great sense of power about fucking you from behind.”



She punctuated her last word by slamming deep inside him, tears of humiliation squeezing out of his eyes.



“Don’t try and tell me you don’t like this,” she purred into his ear. “I can see you twitch.”



He squeezed his eyes shut, deeply ashamed. It was true. His cock was throbbing demandingly, was slowly building towards cumming, desperate for any sort of touch, even the sheets on the bed, but denied everything. The only stimulation was to his arse and deep inside it.



“I always wondered what it was like to fuck someone this hard,” she said with teeth in her voice, slowly pumping harder and faster into his arse. “I’ve always been on the receiving end.”



She was slamming into him now, bruising him, her hips slapping his buttocks so fast the sounds almost merged into one continuous noise, and he could feel himself teetering on the edge of cumming.



“It feels,” she ended, a tigerish grin in her words, “FUCKING FANTASTIC.”



He came, spurting so violently he sprayed over the edge of the bed and halfway to the wall, pumping out cum as she continued to fuck him, only his last spurts landing on the bed.



#



The Engineer carried Mercura to his bedroom in a reverse of the traditional fireman’s carry, head first, her lips stretched hungrily over the top half of his cock, every step making her bounce on her pneumatic boobs against his belly, fellating him without any effort from her exhausted body and glazed mind.



Siobhan was standing to attention by his door and licked her lips as they passed. He ignored her, so she began idly frigging herself when the door closed between them.



The Engineer marched up to his bed and flipped Mercura up and over and onto it, dropping her sprawled with her feet up towards the pillows, her shoulders on the edge, her head hanging over the edge, her lips not moving from his cock.



He began rocking his hips to slide a few inches in and out of her mouth as he stripped to the waist, then he leant forwards and grabbed her breasts, the hard piercings and her almost as hard nipples pressing into his palms as he put almost his entire weight on them and slid all the way into her throat until she was suffocated by his balls.



She took her first ever deep-throat with ease, even though her lips and her throat were stretched to accommodate his girth. He couldn’t remember if he had ever met a single woman in this world who had a gag reflex. Or, for that matter, a hymen.



Her body began twitching from lack of oxygen before he pulled back and opened her nose again, slowly fucking her throat as he leant hard enough on her breasts to lift his heels off the ground.



Her hips began twitching in involuntary fucking motions before he pulled back, left just his head inside her lips, said “Swallow all of it,” and came, pouring a gallon into her mouth, her throat opening and accepting it like a speed drinker, closing to swallow convulsively only as the stream slowed into a trickle.



He stepped back and ripped off his pants, kicking off his boots as she gasped for air, mouth slackly open, face flushed and sweaty hair reaching the ground.



With one movement he leapt onto the bed and twisted, landing straddling her, cock slapping against her belly. He pushed himself up, grabbed her torso and pulled her underneath him so her head lay on the bed, staring up at him so doped on his cum her eyes barely reacted when he put himself right in her line of sight.



“Where you serious about being prepared to fuck me?” he asked evenly.



“Yes Master,” she croaked, her throat now lubricated but still too drained to talk properly.



“Why?”



“I wanted … to bargain.”



“Would you have tried to defeat me?”



“I would have … kept my word.”



He stared at her, completely nonplussed.



Sable had been genuinely happy to have sex for the sake of having sex. His maids had been lifestyle submissives looking for a live-in Master. Felony had been looking for a good time. Every woman in this world had either resisted sex or welcomed it. Now Mercura said she would have accepted it because she thought she had to?



He had spent several weeks now watching his assumptions, his knowledge, his comfortable and well-worked out sets of rules crumble around him, culminating in finding Mercura growing and evolving as a sentient entity almost as he watched.



Now the Heroine’s use of sex as merely another bargaining tool – possibly the most human thing any non-human inhabitant of this world had ever done – made him feel suddenly and irresistibly angry.



He slid down her body far enough to line up at her entrance and shoved into her in one violent movement, shouting with rage as he did so.



His girth and her muscles made it a fight but one he was equal to. She screamed with pure pleasure, arching up underneath him, lifting them both off the bed and lifting them higher when, bottoming out, he drove her piercing ring into her clitoris.



He fucked her brutally, driven by a passion that completely overrode his normal calculating enjoyment.



She found the energy to scream in ecstasy over and over again, every time he slammed into her, jolting her up the bed and driving the air from her lungs. Her body was still too weak to wrap her limbs around him so her legs convulsed on the bed and her fingers clawed into the bedclothes.



Her pure enjoyment made him angrier, made him double his efforts, plunging into her so hard every time it would have shattered a non-Super’s pelvis, crushing her clitoris with its piercing, the mind-robbing lust from it joining the explosion from her whole cunt to make every cell in her body seem to explode.



He started crying, soundlessly, not letting up his fucking as his rage began burning itself out in her eagerly receptive body.



She screamed in prolonged orgasm three times before, feeling drained and hollow, he came deep inside her at the entrance to her womb, the most unsatisfying ejaculation he could remember, and collapsed on top of her.



#



Sable had let him go after she had dressed, and ordered him to get dressed immediately.



He was learning – he was very carefully not looking at her face, although she wasn’t sure if it was the best solution since it meant he spent a lot of time looking at her cleavage instead, and it kept distracting him.



“How many other … Supers are there?”



“In the world? I don’t think anyone knows. In this city? I’m not sure. I’ve met five or six Villains, I’ve met three Heroes, I think, and I’ve no idea how many there actually are. I haven’t had time to try and do any sort of census yet.”



He frowned, confused. “You tell me I am human, not Villain, but …”



She cut him off, sighing. “You are unique. I am … not quite unique. We are both different to every other Super in this city, and almost all the other Supers in the world. I used to be human. You are new and you are … less defined, more flexible. You know you are new, and you have the capacity for growth. They, so far, have … Actually not no capacity for growth, but …



“Ah, fuck it. Look: The Supers in this city, Heroes and Villains both, have grown since I arrived, but they grew in very predictable, very similar ways. Heroes and Villains did not blur the lines, they did not muddy the waters, they did not start overlapping. They become more complex stereotypes, but they are, all of them, still stereotypes.



“That is what I am warning you against, do you see?”



He was silent for a moment, frowning. “I … think so. What do I do now?”



She smiled, faintly. “You can start by making us more coffee. The first lot got cold.”



#



The Engineer lay on top of the limp Mercura until he got his breath back then, with a sudden feeling of self-loathing, twisted to pull out of her and throw himself sideways, landing on his back and lying without touching her.



As soon as his shrinking cock left her deliciously sore vagina, Mercura’s eyes began to clear, tone returning to her face and her Super powers of rejuvenation giving her back speech and fine motor coordination.



She rolled her head to look at him, lifting an eyebrow in surprise at the look of bleakness on his face.



He detected her movement, knew it signified a recovery more rapid than she should have been capable of, but no longer had the energy to be offended or even surprised by the fact. It now seemed perfectly normal. He would deal with complexities later.



He made a complicated gesture with one hand in the air, a gesture detected by a small camera in the corner of the room, interpreted by his house computer and relayed to the kitchen where Catherine put down her copy of The Ages of Lulu, picked up a pre-prepared tray, and walked briskly out past the hot water tap on the Engineer’s rococco espresso machine.



When she walked in, she automatically licked her lips at the sight of the two Supers, sweat-sheened and exhausted, sprawled across the bed. She was surprised when Mercura rolled her head backwards to see her, lifting an eyebrow at her costume and then rolled tiredly over to be able to take the drink Catherine offered her.



The maid moved from surprise to concern when she saw the listless, depressed look on her Master’s face and went sideways to shock when Mercura, with no hint of mental submissiveness, dismissed the maid as sexually uninteresting and gave the Engineer a calculating look.



Catherine retreated, burning with questions and desperately keeping her place by not asking any of them.



She stopped outside the door, giving the slightly dishevelled Siobhan, who had heard the entire session, a look that snapped the brunette out of her quiet self-satisfaction.



“Who the hell has he got?” Catherine asked, uselessly.



Inside the room Mercura, gulping orange juice to moisten her throat, kept steadily looking at the Engineer’s face and let the silence drag out until she no longer felt parched.



“I wouldn’t like to think it was me making you feel like that.”



He rewarded the joke with a short, harsh laugh. “You are now human,” he said flatly.



She frowned. “I told you …”



“You are NOW human,” he emphasised. “You hadn’t lived before this world, you weren’t reborn as I was, you were as complicated as a character in a movie but you are now human. Somehow, somewhy, your mind evolved.”



She tried to digest that and failed.



He detected her frown even without looking at her, and smiled bitterly. “Now,” he said, “you may imagine some of what I have been feeling.”



She mentally backtracked over the conversation. “What do you mean I was as complicated as a movie character?”



“You lived to a script. You didn’t learn, or adapt, or move outside the narrow confines of that script. You displayed a morality as complicated as a children’s book. You weren’t autonomous. You were a character.”



She opened her mouth for a reflex angry response, and managed to stop herself. And think. And light slowly dawned.



“Okaaay,” she said, slowly, as memories came flooding in. “I …”



She hurled her glass across the room and twisted to sit bolt upright on the bed, the room lights glinting off the large chromed rings in her nipples as she glared at him. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

*********************************



-For Patrick



(If the story seems rushed, it’s because I want it up as soon as possible, I hope it doesn’t detract from the story or plot.)



-This story has a long plot and does have sex in it. If you are specifically looking for sex, try Chapter 3 near the end.-



*********************************




Chapter 1 – The Y-Factor



Richie was a normal college student during his Spring Break looking for some extra cash because he didn’t want to work in an office for eight hours a day. He found a newspaper ad at his dorm that talked about being an experimental patient for money. It required little to no work and was an easy way to make some extra cash, Richie decided that it was easy and just for him.



Richie went to this warehouse at the edge of the city downtown and rang a doorbell in a weird alleyway. He was feeling weird, as if he was about to be mugged, but a nice old man met me at the door and Richie felt less skeptical. He seemed very kind, wearing a funny lab coat as he handed Richie the terms and conditions of the experiments. He specifically told Richie that this work would be essential for the safety and well being of the citizens of this here town. Narcissistically, Richie did like feeling important to other people.



The man told him his name was Quincey as well as telling me his dog’s name was Parker as the dog scurried across the lab room floor.



“I don’t believe I got your name, son.” Quincey asked.



“Richie.” He replied as my eyes continued to wander the room.



“Well Richie, if you lay down on the lab table, we can go through with the procedure. I see you signed it. This procedure shouldn’t take too long.” Quincey said kindheartedly.



He liked the sound of that. Richie read the first paragraph or so and it said something about more strength or something; it didn’t really interest him. Quincey assured him that there were absolutely no health risks. That’s all he needed to hear; Richie laid down on the table while Quincey strapped him into the lab table. Quincey let out a deranged laugh and he suddenly felt scared for his life.



Richie yelled and pleaded with Quincey to stop what he was doing to no avail. He was having the procedure and could not stop him. He put some patches connected to rubber tubing on some parts of Richie’s body and the more he did, the more Richie fell unconscious. He fell unconscious looking at Parker, who was also strapped in.



Richie woke up some time later in a daze, “Damn.-” He thought- “What the fuck happened to me?!”



He was wearing spandex, colored red, with a big letter “Y” labeled in the dead center of the material. He noticed Parker was wearing a big letter “Z” as Quincey entered the room and asked Richie if he was feeling alright. He was slightly furious because I was sort of confused. Richie yelled at him and threatened to sue him until he shown him the terms and conditions once again. He did mention all these things, but who reads those in full anyway?



“Richie, you don’t understand the great responsibilities you now hold!” Quincey started.



“What?” Richie asked rubbing my head.



“You now have extraordinary power, but more importantly, you can stop the X – Factor!”



“What’s that?”



“He’s a failed attempt of a super hero. All my calculations were correct, but he somehow turned into a villain! How do you feel? Evil at all?”



“No. Just annoyed…..”



“Splendid! Anyhow, the X – Factor has been going through town as of late and getting the town into commercial turmoil! I thought he could be contained, but I was wrong Richie….. so wrong. I put out that ad as soon as he escaped three days ago because I knew havoc was inevitable. He’s already stolen thousands in possessions and the media is getting suspicious of all these mysterious crimes. It’s a matter of time! You have to stop him!”



“How do I know this is real exactly? It’s hard to take this all in, you know?”



“Of course…” Quincey slyly smiled. He opened a drawer and pulled out a long knife.I raised an eyebrow; he threw it at me with all his might and I grabbed it in midair to prevent damage to my body.



“Mother fucker!” Richie exclaimed.



“You can also fly!” Quincey laughed.



Richie smiled in delight. He climbed on top of the table and jumped off to end up falling to the ground.



“Ouch! Asshole!” Richie said angrily.



“You have to concentrate, boy.” Quincey added.



Richie was a little skeptical, but concentrated and within thirty seconds, was levitating. In excitement, he fell; but was still glad. He got up, held Parker in his arm and went to Quincey.



“This X – Factor thing….. I’m in.”



*************************************’



Chapter 2 – The X – Factor



Quincey told Richie that finding the X – Factor was the most important mission he had as of now. According to Quincey, there was no telling what the X – Factor could be doing!



Quincey informed Richie that he had more power than the X – Factor and more stamina; he had to do whatever it took to stop the X – Factor, even kill him! Hearing this, Richie was slightly concerned. He flew off wondering if he could actually kill someone. The Y – Factor and Z – Factor split up to find out the whereabouts of the X – Factor.



It was night time and the city was quiet, too quiet. People were sleeping, no crimes were being committed; the super duo almost gave up their search. Finally, the Z – Factor found the X – Factor in the park. He recorded data via laser powers. The Z – Factor shown the video of a man crying on a park bench.



“Is that him?” Richie asked as Parker nodded. As the video continued, the man dropped a uniform with a large X on it along with his wallet which opened for the video to record.



“Hmm…. Can you zoom in on the wallet?” Richie asked. Parker did just that and the driver’s license was in full view of the camera.



“So, the X – Factor’s name is Peter Lessey, eh-?” he viewed.- “If we go to his place inscribed on the license, we might be able to find the stolen goods. I mean, Quincey didn’t take much information from me, so why would he even know where the loot might be? Let’s go Parker!”



—– One Flight Later ——-



“I don’t see any loot, Parker.-” Richie said looking through the window.- “One thing’s for sure though….. he’s got a really messy place. Now I’d expect that from a villain, but what I don’t get is why this place is completely messy except for that nightstand next to his bed. It’s completely spotless…. orderly magazines, a night lamp, and a picture frame of some guy. It’s too dark to see, I’m looking for clues…..” Richie stated.



Richie, who was levitating above the complex’s window opened it and went inside. He snooped until he found a letter in the nightstand drawer:



“You mean everything to me…. you just can’t be replaced”



- Lance



It read.



There was also a newspaper article inside the nightstand drawer. It showed the brutal homicide report of an alleged homophobic killer who damned a man named Lance Sweeney. The report picture matched the picture frame.



“This is a clue, maybe?” Richie simpered to Parker who looked at him as if he was snooping in things he shouldn’t be.



Suddenly, the door to the complex opened and a man stepped inside. It was the same man from the park bench. The man stood astonished at the site of two other supermen inside his apartment complex and was enraged.



The Y – Factor winced and stood back a step as he put the papers away. At a fast paced speed, Peter grabbed Richie’s neck.



“Run, Parker!” Richie yelled as Peter through the Y – Factor straight out the window. Parker flew to help, but hesitated based on Richie’s previous instructions. With all his super strength, the Y – Factor was actually out matched by the X – Factor.



The X – Factor was ten years Richie’s senior, was more built, more aggressive, toned and angry. His ferocity and good looks distracted Richie; he was unaware he enjoyed fighting, being close and aggressively wrestling with another man, midair. The arousal had gotten to him; he was losing the fight. The X – Factor slammed Richie against a brick wall and gave him a brutal punch in the face.



“Don’t ever mess with me again, hero!” The X – Factor yelled as he let Richie fall one hundred feet to a close death. Fortunately, Parker grabbed him and brought him to safety.



As Parker stopped at the floor, Richie started, ” I guess you don’t know how to handle being with another man!” he said laughingly.



The X – Factor grew more angry and flew up to Richie who he grabbed off the floor, “And who the fuck are you to say that?!”



“Nobody. I’ve never been with a man. But I sure as hell know that you don’t go A – wall once he dies!”



“Fuck you, hero! Fuck you!”



“Oh, come on now….. He must mean something to you if you’re going to cry at the park about him.”



The X – Factor’s face almost blew apart as he heard this. He threw Richie as hard as he could into a tree. Parker watched, terrified, as Peter flew to Richie caught in the tree, “Get your facts straight, hero…..” he laughed as he spat in Richie’s face.



Richie wiped it off and tasted it, as to antagonize him. “Pretty good, man.” Richie laughed.



“You just don’t quit, do you?!” Peter grabbed Richie’s neck as he lifted him from the tree. Finally, Parker interfered by grabbing Richie and flying back to the warehouse.



As they flew back, the X – Factor called out, “You best not come back, hero! You don’t know what you’re dealing with!”



**********************************



Chapter 3 – An Ex – Factor



“Ah Parker, what’d he do?” Quincey yelled as Parker flew the unconscious protagonist onto the lab table to let him rest. By morning, the Y- Factor had healed from the previous fight. He was also full of questions as the day progressed….



“So Quincey, how much do you actually know about this Peter Lessey guy?” Richie asked.



“No ‘thank you for heeling my wounds?’ Ok….. well, I did some research on Peter and it turns out that he is a millionaire who lives in an upscale complex uptown.” Quincey said.



“We know that… we were there yesterday. A millionaire you say? Probably from all that looting…..”



“No, Richie. He was already a millionaire. He came to me in a depressed state. I’m starting to think that’s why he’s evil. I thought it would make him happy to help others, but all he does it cause pain!”



“So why is a millionaire robbing people of their possessions?”



“It might be one of those psychological cases. Like when a murderer chops off the head of their victim because he can’t bear to look at him.”



“Gross….”



“It’s not an easy answer to say all on its own. There’s probably some sort of complex reason for it. But you have to find him again and destroy him!”



“What if I reasoned with him?” Richie suggested.



“It’s too risky, as of now. He’s too powerful…. You’re stronger than he is anyway. How did you have your ass handed to you?”



“Hey! He was tough. I’m also getting used to these powers….. and shit.”



Quincey raised an eyebrow, “You weren’t distracted by his looks, were you?”



“No! I…… I wasn’t!….”



“Goddamn it. You’re a queer as he is?” Richie shrugged his shoulders.



“Bi, maybe….. don’t know. But there is an X – Factor that needs to be taken down, so that’s what I’ll do!”



Quincey smiled and Parker ran up to Richie. The two flew out the window and into the sunset to find the X – Factor once again.



Not long after the full moon was high in the sky, Richie found Peter with tow large bags of money in the park. Richie flew to him,



“You miss me, Peter?”



“Damn you, kid! Just leave me alone!”



“Not in the name of justice….. or something” Richie smiled



“Richie grabbed Pater and threw him into the air. They flew at each other and Peter grabbed Richie’s leg and ass. He threw Richie far away, but he quickly recovered and went back to the fight. Richie grabbed the X – Factor’s belt and pulled it down, revealing Peter’s underpants. The Y – Factor laughed to himself.



“That was the gayest move I ever saw” Peter barked.



“Like grabbing my ass wasn’t gay…..” Richie retorted. Peter Blushed and flew up to Richie.



“Why do I make you blush, Peter?”



“Shut up. You’re nothing!”



“I think I’m more than nothing. See, here’s the weird part: I have never seen that look in a person’s eyes besides mine, just a day ago. Am I anything like Lance?”



“You don’t know anything about Lance.” Peter said angrily.



“But I think I am like him… I think he made you completely full of life; now I’m here bringing new spirit to your dysfunctional life.”



“You know nothing!”



“Open your eyes, man! You’re retaliating against the fact that you lost Lance! You’re not a true villain.”



Peter got red and stayed quiet.



“Do you rob things because you are unsure of yourself? Life’s not fair? It’s not your fault that Lance is gone now.”



“I know.” Peter barked as he turned and continued to turn red.



“Peter, It’s not your fault….. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault!-”



Peter threw himself at Richie, who braced for the encounter. Peter hugged Richie and Richie slowly lowered his defenses to return the hug.



“Come with me….” Peter beckoned.



He brought Richie to his complex and Peter laid on his bed, “What’s your name, hero?” he asked.



“Richie.” he said as he took off his spandex. They took off each other’s shirts and Richie undid Peter’s pants. Richie played around with Peter’s underwear.



“I’m new to this, sorry.” Richie smiled.



Peter laughed, “Don’t worry, it’ll come naturally.”



So Richie moved up to his lips and kissed Peter. He looked into Peter’s hazel eyes and smiled; he kissed him again. They started aggressively making out, making sure to wrestle tongues for dominance; Richie moved his way downward, moving his tongue from lips to chest to waist. He pulled down Peter’s underwear to find a fully erect member. Richie blushed, “Shit it’s big” he thought. He moved his tongue along the shaft until he met a drop of precum at the tip. Richie tried playing with it, but Peter wasn’t in the mood to be teased.



Peter moved his hands to the top of Richie’s head and guided him downward upon the shaft. Back and forth, Richie got more and more of Peter’s member inside his mouth. Soon, Richie himself was getting erect. Through his pants, Richie played with himself. Richie was on all fours on the bed, swallowing Peter’s member and slowly took off his own pants to pleasure himself.



Peter was so turned on by Richie’s inexperience, he took control. He reversed the roles and took off Richie’s pants and underwear to meet up with his erecting phallus. Peter smirked, it was as big as he was expecting and he moved his head all around to make sure that Richie was having the time of his life. As he bobbed up and down, Richie moaned slowly and bit his lower lip. Then Richie took deep gasps of air and pushed his head back into the pillows. “Ah, shit, man!” Richie exclaimed.



“Good right?” Peter asked.



“Awesome, man! You’re a pro!” Richie responded.



“Now that you’re laying on the bed, maybe we can go a little further….”



“How so, Peter?”



Peter went into the drawer and grabbed a condom. Richie smiled and broke the condom to apply it to Peter’s phallus.



“So, the villain fucks the hero, huh? I like the sound of that!” Peter laughed. Peter lubed up his shaft along with Richie’s hole and prepared to a tight entrance. He lined up and pushed forward. Richie, still laying on the bed kept a clinched hand on his stomach and the other into the depths of the pillows. Peter grabbed his hand for support and Richie smiled sincerely. He loosened up and Peter got his head to fit into Richie’s entrance.



“Gah!” Richie moaned.



“Take a deep breath, now….” Peter said supportingly.



Peter pushed forward and extended himself father into Richie and pulled back. Back and forth, until he got into a rhythm, he pushed inside of Richie with care and love. As the movements continued, the got more instinctual and Peter started moving faster. Richie moaned and asked him to continue as he pumped inside of him harder and harder. It was a new experience for Richie, but he was loving every second.



With his other hand free, Richie played with his own shaft which was fully erect and in need of attention. He jerked himself off as Peter continued to push himself back in and out of Richie’s arse hole. After a long while, the movements sped up and Peter bucked up ready to cum. He pulled all the way into Richie and leaned in for a kiss. Right then and there, the two of them came in a moment of bliss.



Richie’s cum got onto Peter’s stomach, so he cleaned it up with his fingers and inserted it inside his on mouth. Richie smiled and hugged Peter who laid next to him to sleep for the night.



The next morning, Richie’s cell phone rang; It was Quincey:



“Y – Factor, are you ok?! You haven’t answered your cell phone all night!” Quincey asked worriedly.



“Yeah, I’m fine, Quincey. The X – Factor wont be messing with the city with his antics anymore. He showed me the missing loot….. things are looking like they’re going back to normal. Well, as normal as things are, anyway.” Richie replied



“That’s amazing! You killed him?!” Quincey asked excited.



“Not exactly…..”



“You didn’t sleep with him, did you?…… Y – Factor?!…… Y – Factor!!!” Quincey yelled getting no response.



Richie laughed as he hung up the phone. Peter and Richie both walked together to the house on the hill.



“I can’t believe you two. And you Richie, you left the Z – Factor all alone last night!” Quincey said angrily.



Quincey calmed down. Peter spoke, “In Richie’s defense, it was my fault. But you know that….”



“Things will go back to normal though……. AFTER YOU RETURN ALL THOSE MISSING POSSESSIONS!” He remarked.



The two jumped, “Alright, old man.” -Peter started- “I suppose you’ll be taking our powers back now?”



“No, actually. You know, I did have an initial purpose for you superheroes. This city has more trouble than just you, X – Factor.” he laughed.



“Yeah, yeah…. I don’t know if being a hero is all I’m cut out to be though. I did like being a villain.”



The three gave Peter a look of frustration.



“Don’t worry, Quincey. If he becomes a prick, I can take care of him. Remember, I’m the stronger one!” Richie laughed.



“Well, I hope you don’t mind living together then. It builds up teamwork and morale, and what not.”



“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Peter smiled.



“That means you too, Z – Factor.” Quincey added. Parker looked at Quincey in surprise; he didn’t know how to feel.



“Come here, boy!” Richie called. Parker grew happy and ran to them.



“Oh, just one more thing, boys……” – Quincey concluded- “If you see a big XYZ in the sky, you know that’s a signal for you guys, right?” he laughed.



Peter rolled his eyes and Richie laughed along with the old man. Suddenly, a police siren went off.



“Well….. get at ‘em, XYZ – Factors!” Quincey finished.



All three of them nodded as they flew out the window off into the sunset.

Prologue



You know that children’s song about how you should make new friends, but keep the old because one is silver and the other’s gold? Well, I always thought it was a trite load of trash. When I was imbued with Empathic Sexual Perception as the result of a nefarious medical experiment, it seemed like no one wanted to help me, and everyone was happy to take advantage of my weakness.



But when things looked their worst—when I found myself depressed, downtrodden and used—an old friend came to my rescue. She reminded me that friendship can be stronger than adversity. She reminded me that sometimes you can find new friends in the most unexpected places.



Gold and silver, indeed. My old friend saved me, and my new friends helped set me on the path that made me…




*



“Are you sure you want to do this?” Cammy asked me the question I should have been asking her. She was worried and scared, but keeping her mouth stretched into a tight smile that wasn’t fooling anyone.



Danny DeLuca, her boyfriend since the tender age of fifteen (for the mathematically challenged out there, that’s six years), was the only one of us in the cheap motel room who was sure about wanting a threesome, but unfortunately, his certainty was doing double duty for me, too.



He’d recited a preplanned speech about how he and Cammy wanted to express their love and strengthen their relationship through sharing a lover, but it was pure theater for Cammy’s benefit. The only reason I’d said yes was because I was incapable of saying no, and Danny knew it.



Four days earlier, I’d been a paid subject in an experiment at the Center for the Understanding of Neurological Transcendence. The scientists had given me a serum that was supposed to temporarily heighten my Empathic Sexual Perception. Except, instead of being temporary, the change was permanent. And instead of just heightening my perception, the serum supersized it. Not only could I perceive the sexual fantasies of any man who came within fifty feet of me, I became so aroused by those fantasies that I felt compelled to fulfill them.



I’d known Danny almost as long as I’d known Cammy. I thought we were friends. When he somehow discovered what had happened to me, he should have tried to help. Instead, he used me to cheat on Cammy. He made me betray my best friend in one of the worst ways possible, and I would never forgive him for it.



I hated him. I hated the whole situation. I hated that Danny was going to have his cake and eat it too. Only a few hours after he cheated on Cammy by fucking me one-on-one, he convinced her to let him ask me to have a three-way with them. And I had agreed.



I didn’t want to, but my wants were immaterial. My unwilling empathic response to Danny’s sexual desires made me want what he wanted and take pleasure in all that pleased him. He was excited, and I felt his excitement. More than that, I saw the images unfolding in his head of Cammy and me naked on the sagging king-sized bed, our lips locked together as our hands explored each other’s shapely naked bodies.



I’d never been attracted to women, but I felt Danny’s attraction to me and Cammy. I felt his excitement at the thought of watching us together, and it forced me to action. It was his excitement and attraction that made me agree to the three-way when he spouted a disingenuous line about how he and Cammy wanted to strengthen ght bonds of their relationship by enjoying a lover together. And later, in a poorly-lit cheap motel room, when Cammy asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this, it was Danny’s desire that drove me to make the first move.



I took Cammy’s face in my hands and kissed her stammering lips into silence. She stood motionless for a moment as I moved my lips over hers. My mouth was gentle, coaxing, familiar. My kiss was Danny’s kiss—the only kiss she’d known for six years. The only man she’d ever fucked.



My hands, too, touched her with years of experience. Years of knowing what she liked, what she wanted. As she relaxed, I felt something from her—not the irresistible surge of desire I’d felt from most men, but something faint as a butterfly’s breath, a frisson of interest.



Mentally, I reached for it. It slipped through my grasp, but I didn’t give up. I twisted and tuned my perception like an old analog radio, trying to find just the right station on the dial. Eventually, I locked onto the signal.



Desire echoed in my mind pure and crystalline, a faint but perfect note. I amplified it, turning up the volume on my empathic perception until my mind was filled with that sweet sound.



The amplification did not just rouse my interest. Cammy began to move against me with real need and excitement. Her heartbeat sped, her breathing roughened. Her hands, which had been vaguely petting my hair and back in a manner she’d imagined might look sexy to Danny, began to touch and explore my body for the sole purpose of her own pleasure.



She forgot about Danny. The whole of her attention locked onto my kiss, my touch. She began to want more, and more. Her desire grew and fed mine as my desire amplified and fed hers.



I used kiss and touch to guide her down to the bed. Behind us, I felt Danny’s lust kick into high gear. His cock was hard as stone and hot as hell. It strained against his underwear and jeans. He stepped out of them as I pulled Cammy’s skirt and underwear off.



Her breath caught. Her dark eyes went to him. He thought she was frightened and gave her a reassuring smile. He said, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” But he was thinking, “Do not ruin this for me, bitch.”



I wondered what he would have said if he’d known that Cammy’s inhalation of breath had been caused by surprise. She’d forgotten he was there. She’d forgotten we were not alone.



I touched her cheek and turned her back to face me. I didn’t want her to look at him, to think about him. I kissed her again as I ran my hands up under her shirt to undo her bra. I massaged her small breasts and tugged on her hard little nipples. She moaned.



I felt Danny’s cock twitch in excitement. His desire had a different flavor, but the two were complimentary. Like chocolate and peanut butter; each was good on its own, but together they were unlike anything else.



The combination of their sensations and desires raised a frenzy in me, but I forced myself to take my time. She was my friend. She deserved the very best I could give her. I wanted to giver her something good and sweet to make up for my bitter betrayal.



I patiently enacted a hundred little touches meant to elicit shivers and sighs. I made all the tender explorations most men tend to skip in their rush to penetration.



Don’t take that as a criticism, guys, it’s just a statement of fact. It’s tough not to rush through foreplay when you know what’s coming, even for me. I’ve enjoyed almost every sexual act you can imagine (and probably a few you can’t) but there’s still nothing like that moment when a hard cock pierces me. My heart beats double time. My pussy stretches to take it. My body feels whole and heavenly. I feel…right.



If that’s what most men feel when they fuck a girl, I don’t blame them for rushing the preliminaries. But that rush bypasses a lot of pleasurable detours. Sometimes it’s good to take the scenic route, and since the finish of this particular tour de femme didn’t involve me getting plowed by a big hard dick, I could be patient and thorough.



By the time I made the inevitable descent down Cammy’s slim body, she was taut as a bowstring. Her heart was pounding, and the sheen of sweat on her golden skin seemed to make it glow in the flickering fluorescent lamp light.



I can’t say I enjoyed going down on her, but her pleasure in the act more than made up for my discomfort. I’d never eaten pussy before, but this didn’t feel like my first time. I shared Cammy’s sensations, and Danny’s memories of every time he’d done this to her.



But unlike Danny, I didn’t rush her. I kept her poised on the edge of orgasm for long minutes, and when she began to fall, I pushed her hard and fast, over and over. She cried out again and again, louder and longer than she ever had with Danny.



I felt the first stirrings of his unease. The first tendril of suspicion that Cammy might end up enjoying this encounter more than he did. That she might enjoy me more than she enjoyed him.



Her fingers tangled in my hair and she lay there panting, speechless, staring at the ceiling.



Danny pushed between us. If I hadn’t been inundated by his lust, I would have been annoyed by the intrusion. Cammy was. When he moved to plunge his achingly hard cock into her still-quivering pussy, she held him off with one weak hand.



“Give me a minute, will you?”



He scowled. I was behaving exactly as he’d fantasized, but Cammy was throwing a wrench in the works. She was supposed to open for him. She was supposed to beg him. She was supposed to tremble and cry from the force of the orgasms he gave her. But she did none of those things. And that made him mad.



“Fine.” He said. “I’ll take her.” He stood, grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head up to his cock. I opened wide and took him in my mouth, barely suppressing a shiver at the pleasure he felt when I began to suck.



Danny didn’t last long—how could he? He’d lived his long-held fantasy of seeing his girlfriend with another woman, and then been fellated by a psychic slut who knew exactly how to make him explode in thirty seconds flat.



When Danny let go of my hair, I turned back to the bed to find Cammy watching me with a faintly appalled look on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Danny lied down beside her and pulled her naked body against his.



An image flashed through my mind. Danny surrounded by naked female flesh. I lay down beside him, and we dozed lightly while caressing and kissing. Or, rather, Danny kissed Cammy while I caressed him. Her eyes met mine over his shoulder, and I felt her desire for me and annoyance at the way Danny had forced himself between us.



When Danny got hard again, he rolled atop Cammy and began to fuck her. Cammy was the one he truly wanted. She always had been.



He made love to her, and I lay there, forgotten and unfulfilled. Cammy didn’t come. She couldn’t come again so soon after what we’d done together. I did share in Danny’s orgasm, but it was paltry compared to the intense, exponentially multiplying loop of pleasure I experienced when I was the center of my lover’s attention. When I was the one fucking and being fucked.



I wondered if I would ever be satisfied with a normal orgasm again. What if I wasn’t? What if I found a way to rid myself of this terrible curse only to spend the rest of my life comparing every new lover to the memory of my empathically-enhanced experiences?



Tears rolled down my cheeks. I sniffled.



I got up and left Cammy and Danny sleeping in the bed behind me. I went into the dingy little bathroom and splashed cool water on my face. I couldn’t seem to stop crying. I would have liked to think I was crying because of the way Danny had used me, but I wasn’t. The terrible thought that had brought tears to my eyes had been the thought of never again experiencing the ecstasy of my heightened response. How could I hate and crave something at the same time.



Was this how junkies felt?



“Virginia?” A tentative hand stroked my shoulder. It was Cammy. “Are you okay?”



I sniffled and nodded, but couldn’t seem to stop crying.



“Look, I’m sorry for the way Danny treated you in there. You went down on both of us, and got nothing in return.” She kissed me and stroked my hair. “It was inconsiderate. Will you let me try and make it up to you?”



Cammy is one of those people who always try to do the right thing. If she finds a wallet in the street, she returns it to the owner with all the cash still inside. If someone eats her out, she always offers to reciprocate.



“Thanks,” I kissed her cheek, “but you don’t have to. You won’t enjoy it, and girls really aren’t my thing.”



Cammy’s eyes widened. “Not your thing? You could have fooled me! When you—I felt…that is, it seemed like you’d done it before. You’re really good at it. The best I’ve ever—well, I know I’ve only been with Danny but…”



“It’s okay.” I said. “Just forget it.”



“But I can’t! I mean, you seem so unhappy. If you didn’t want to do this, why didn’t you say no?”



“I couldn’t.” I stopped myself. There was no way I could explain what was going on. It was too outlandish, too unbelievable.



“I don’t understand. Did Danny and I somehow force you to do this? I didn’t see either of us holding a gun to your head.”



That made me mad. I wanted to shout and rail. My mouth opened and I took a deep breath, but was able to stop myself at the last second. I turned away.



Cammy caught my shoulder. “No, tell me. I want to know.”



“You wouldn’t understand, and if you did, you still wouldn’t believe me.”



She folded her arms across her breasts. “Why don’t you try me? I could surprise you. You’ve certainly surprised me today. Give me a chance to return the favor.”



I was quiet for a minute while I weighed my options. Thoughts raced around in my head as I battled with myself. Should I trust Cammy? If I told her, and she rejected me, would I feel any worse than I did knowing her boyfriend had used me to cheat on her?



No.



The next thing I knew, I was telling Cammy the whole story from when I signed on as a paid volunteer for the experiment at the Center for the Understanding of Neurologic Transcendance, to the strange green liquid they’d made me drink, to the scientists who’d fucked me before sending me on my way with vague promises of an appointment next week to further examine my condition.



“That’s the real reason I didn’t leave the room for three days. I was afraid of what would happen if I got too close to any man.”



“And when I kicked you out…” Cammy covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, God. What happened? Who…?”



“More like, how many?” I said. “Three.” I told her about the jerk, Dean, in the stairwell, and Dr. Rutledge after class.



“But he’s so old!” she said. “And bald. And he has a gut!”



“It doesn’t matter.” I said. “He wanted me. I made him want me. I couldn’t stop myself and I couldn’t say no.”



“How awful.” Cammy looked horrified. I felt the strangest urge to defend my condition. I wanted to tell her how it was better than anything I’d ever felt before, better than anything she would ever experience or could even imagine.



Instead, I said, “The craving gets a little bit weaker every time I indulge it. After Rutledge, I had an easier time walking home from class. I think the only reason I couldn’t say no to Danny was because he was so close, and he climbed on top of me.”



“What do you mean he climbed on top of you? The only thing Danny has done with you today is come in your mouth.”



I shook my head no. It took me a second to gather the courage to tell her what Danny had done that afternoon. I was sure she’d reject me in a fit of anger.



Cammy was angry, all right, but not at me.



“That jerk. He should have been trying to help you, not taking advantage of you.”



“I’m so sorry, Cammy.”



“Don’t apologize. You couldn’t help yourself.”



“B-but I enjoyed it.”



She laughed bitterly. “You couldn’t help that, either.” She turned toward the door. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I don’t think I can stand to look at my creep of an ex-boyfriend for a minute longer than I have to.”



We got dressed and left Danny obliviously snoring in the sagging, grungy bed.



After we got back to our dorm room, I got into my bed and said, “Cammy?”



“Yeah, V?”



“I don’t know why you believed a crazy story like mine, but I’m glad you did. I was so afraid you’d hate me.”



“I believed you because I know you, V.” Cammy said. “This behavior, it isn’t you. I was shocked when you agreed to the threesome. I’d told Danny you wouldn’t go for it, but he seemed oddly sure you would. Now, I know why he was so certain.” Her voice hitched on the last sentence.



She hadn’t just lost a boyfriend today, she’d lost the man she’d thought she was going to marry.



“Cammy, I’m sorry. About Danny.”



“Sorry he turned out to be a jerk?” She forced a laugh, but I could hear the tears in her voice. “Yeah, me, too.”



She went quiet, but I could hear her breathing hard like she was trying not to cry. I climbed the ladder to her bed, slid under the covers, and held her while she cried herself to sleep.



***



“Ow!” I rubbed my head and glared at the ceiling. I’d forgotten I was in Cammy’s bed, and sat straight up when I woke. The bump was a hard one, and I was sure it would leave a lump, but it subsided quickly, and in a few minutes, I could barely remember how much it had hurt.



The events of the previous night came rushing back to me. Danny, using me. Cammy believing me when I’d told her what had happened to me.



Oh, God, Cammy! She wasn’t in bed, or anywhere else in the room. I hoped she was okay. I hoped she wasn’t off by herself somewhere crying because she’d lost her boyfriend of six years.



I tried calling her, but the call went straight to voicemail. A moment later, I found her phone on her desk. It was set to silent, and there were a dozen calls and texts from Danny on her log—all declined. Now I was really starting to worry.



I heard a key in the lock. The door swung open and Cammy came in. Her shiny black hair was in a long, bouncy ponytail, and she was smiling. She’d brought two Styrofoam food containers, and two cups of coffee.



“Wakey, wakey! Eggs and bakey.”



“Thank God, Cammy.” I said. “I was worried about you.”



“Because of last night?” She set the food down on her desk beside her phone. “Don’t be worried. You know me. As long as I’ve got a problem to solve, I’m just fine.”



It was true. Cammy loves to study biology, chemistry and physics in addition to math, but the reason she chose math for her major was because she loves working through problems. She’s crazy about crosswords, jigsaw puzzles, and Sudoku. She’s the friend you can always count on to help you talk through your personal problems, too.



“What problem?” I asked.



“You.” She offered me a plastic fork.



“Me?”



“Yes, you, Nympho. We’re going to figure out this condition of yours. If there isn’t a cure, we’ll find a way to control it.”



“I—but, that is, thank you. That’s exactly what I’d planned to do.”



“Only now you’ll succeed, because I’m here to help.” She grinned and took a big bite of her scrambled eggs. “There’s nothing the scientific method can’t solve.”



“You are such a geek.”



“Yeah,” she said, “but you love me for it. Now drink your caffeine, we’ve got some serious thinking to do after we finish eating.”



“Yes, ma’am.”



I was determined to eat a healthy breakfast, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Even though I’d missed dinner the night before, I didn’t really have an appetite. I forced myself to take a few bites, but eventually pushed the plate away, still loaded with food.



“What’s wrong?” Cammy asked.



“I’m just not very hungry.”



“Hmm.” She got out a notepad and wrote something on it. “When was the last time you felt hunger?”



I thought for a moment. “Yesterday, when you brought me lunch and then kicked me out to go to class.”



“And in the time since then, you’ve taken four lovers.”



“What, you think I fucked my appetite away?”



She shook her head. Her ponytail swished across her shoulders, but her expression remained thoughtful. “No. I’m wondering if maybe you’re getting more than orgasms from the people you fuck.”



“What?” I said. “You think I’m somehow feeding off them? That’s crazy!”



“Is it?” Cammy said. “Since you came back from that experiment, you look as good as I’ve ever seen you—better! Your features didn’t change in any way, you’re just exhibiting all the signs of optimal health—bright eyes, clear skin, pink cheeks and lips. Your muscle tone is perfect, and I swear you even lost a couple of pounds. Nothing has changed about your diet, so the energy or nutrients your body used to improve your overall condition had to come from somewhere else.”

I snorted. “Maybe cum has unknown health benefits.”



“That’s another thing.” Cammy wrote more notes on her pad. “Have you used condoms with anyone?”



“Oh, God…” The world seemed to spin for a moment. I could feel the blood draining from my head as I realized I’d had unprotected sex with five different men in the past four days. I was on the pill, so I didn’t have to worry about pregnancy, but what about disease? “No, I haven’t used any protection. It never even occurred to me…”



“But it should have. You’ve always practiced safer sex. It wouldn’t be like you to just forget something like that.” Cammy wrote some more, and then I practically saw the light bulb go on above her head. “Of course!”



“Of course, what?”



“The condoms. When you stop to think about it, it makes perfect—if totally weird—sense.”



“Um, no it does not.” I furrowed my brow in confusion. “It doesn’t make any sense at all. Did that serum give me a death wish, in addition to turning me into a raging slut?”



“No,” Cammy said. “See, you’re attracted to men’s desires and fantasies. You are compelled to act them out. But who uses condoms in their fantasies? The human imagination is pretty much the only place in the world we can have unprotected sex with zero worry for the consequences.”



“And this has what to do with me acting like a sexually irresponsible hussy?”



“The reason you can never remember to use a condom is because condoms aren’t part of the fantasies you fulfill.”



“Shit. Well I guess I’m fucked. In more ways than one.” I forced a laugh. “Gonorrhea, here I come!”



“Don’t be so sure,” Cammy said as she scribbled some more notes on her notepad. “There’s still the issue of your incredible good health. Remember that zit you were getting on your chin the day before you went in for that experiment?”



I nodded and felt my smooth, unblemished chin.



“It should be pretty ugly by now, but it’s completely gone. And so are your allergies. You haven’t sniffled or sneezed once since the experiment.”



“So that means…?” I tried to anticipate Cammy’s conclusion, but came up blank.



“You might have developed highly-enhanced immunity to infection and communicable disease.”



“That’s impossible.”



“Improbable, yes, but not impossible. There are a few recorded instances of—pardon my lack of scientific terminology—gay male sluts in the nineteen seventies and eighties who never caught any disease despite frequent bouts of risky, unprotected sex that repeatedly exposed them to everything from herpes to HIV.”



Her eyes went unfocused as she got lost in thought. “Think about it. The human body adapts to its food sources—like the way Europeans evolved genes to process dairy and wheat gluten because they ate so much of it.”



“That change happened over thousands of years. This change happened over a few hours.”



“So, what? If your body could gain the ability to consume psychic energy given off by sex in only a few hours, couldn’t it also develop a means of protecting you from the dangers associated with your new source of sustenance?”



Cammy knew way more about Science than I did. I pretty much had to agree with her. “Uh, okay. But how does knowing all that help me get back to normal?”



“It’s good to understand how your condition works, but as far as reversing it, I have no idea. We don’t know what chemicals were in the serum the scientists gave you. We don’t know how it interacted with your physiology and environment to create the set of changes that led to your current state. I’m afraid the best we can do right now is to try to control it.”



“Great. So I’ll spend the rest of my life hiding in this room.”



“Not necessarily. If this problem of yours is a form of appetite, maybe it can be sated. You said the craving becomes easier to manage after you take a lover. So let’s find out how many men it takes to get you feeling normal again.”



“What!?” I spat out the sip of coffee I’d just taken. “You mean I should just fuck guys until the craving goes away?”



“Yup.”



“That’s terrible. My goal is to become less of a slut. I shouldn’t give into this.”



“But you enjoy it so much when you do.” Cammy said. “This is not your fault. Stop punishing yourself, and be smart. If you want to control this power, you have to understand it.”



“Power?” I laughed bitterly. “It’s a curse.”



“Depends on how you look at it, and whether you learn to control it. Besides,” She grinned. “I was never into girls, but you convinced me pretty fast. That’s got to be some kind of superpower.”



“I’ll fight for truth, justice, and the Lesbian Way.” I waggled my tongue.



She giggled. “We’ll get you plaid flannel cape and an organic cotton unitard. Instead of tights, you’ll just let your leg hair grow. We’ll call you the Lesbinator, and you’ll save clueless straight girls from their jerk boyfriends.”



She thought it was a joke, but I didn’t. I remembered the way I had tuned into her desire and amplified it. “Sorry.”



“Don’t be. I enjoyed it. Feel free to Lesbinate me any time. Plus, I think Danny was mad that you were better than him. It serves the bastard right.”



That made me smile. “Okay, so what happens if I do give in and become Super Slut? Yesterday I had three different men (and one very fine woman) and it wasn’t enough. It could take five or ten or twenty men to get this thing under control. Where would I find that many horny guys willing to have sex with me?”



“Silly rabbit.” Cammy laughed. “We’re on a college campus. Finding horny guys is not the problem.”



***



Midweek fraternity parties are never very crowded. The only people who go are alcoholics, incurable horndogs, and students who don’t have class the next day. While I usually only attended midweek frat parties when I fell into category three, I was chagrined to realize that this time out I was firmly in category two.



Dressing for a frat party is usually tricky business. You want clothes you look good in, but also clothes you can dance in, and clothes you don’t mind getting beer spilled on. And whatever you wear to a frat party, it should follow one golden rule: Sexy, not slutty. Because girls who dress slutty get way too much attention from drunken college boys.



But tonight, way too much attention was exactly what I wanted. Which is how I found myself wearing a skin tight red spandex dress sans panties and asking Cammy, “Does this look slutty enough?”



The red dress hugged every curve and hollow on my body from my full, perky breasts to my narrow waist to my full hips and high, round ass. It stopped high on my thigh to show off my relatively long legs, which looked endless in the sky-high heels Cammy had lent me.



Cammy took all this in and said, “V, if you were dressed any sluttier, you’d be naked. Now all you need to look like a total skank is some make up.”



I was never one of those girls who wore much—okay, any—makeup. It had always been a mystery to me, and anytime I tried something more complex than sheer lipstick and dark brown mascara, I ended up looking like a clown. But here’s the thing about makeup: When a woman is wearing a lot of it, do you ever really notice her features? Would you recognize a woman you’d first seen at night in skintight clothes, Bratz-doll makeup, and teased hair if you saw her fresh-faced in a ponytail wearing jeans and a t-shirt in daylight?



Cammy and I were betting no. The red dress and the makeup weren’t really meant to enhance my appearance, but to disguise it. The less I looked and acted like me tonight, the less chance there would be of someone recognizing me tomorrow. Which is how I ended up with some serious bad girl black eyeliner and fake eyelashes, foundation, blush, a Marilyn Monroe beauty mark, and a shade of lipstick so glossy and bright that it might as well have been called “Fellatio Red.”



Cammy helped me tease and tousle my hair. By the time we were done with me, looked like an escapee from an x-rated remake of Dynasty. Maybe called just, “Nasty.”



“Oh, God,” I said. “I look trashier than an extra in a Ke$ha video.”



Cammy giggled. “The important thing here, V, is that you don’t look like you. You’ll have plausible deniability.” She grinned. “Are you ready?”



“As ready as I’ll ever be.”



Cammy picked up her iPad and said, “Okay, let’s do this!”



Cammy always got excited about experiments and trials, and she’d always loved spy movies and TV shows like Alias where people had to be secretive and wear disguises. Running a clandestine experiment while wearing a disguise made her practically giddy. She codenamed our plan Operation Condor, which I thought was way too fancy for a simple two part course of action that went thusly: 1) V fucks guys until she can control herself. 2) C counts the number of guys V fucks.



Cammy left the room first. She was dressed in a black turtleneck and skinny jeans with a hot pink wig over her black hair. She texted me when the corridor was clear, and I hightailed it to the stairs and exited at the back of the building. We walked separately halfway there, and then I fell in about ten feet from Cammy. We could have taken the shuttle, but that would mean showing our student IDs and possibly being remembered or recognized.



It took us about twenty minutes to get to Frat Row. We didn’t encounter any men, but I almost wished we had. As it was, that twenty minutes gave me too much time to think about my situation. Theoretically, I didn’t like the idea of going to a frat party and letting men fuck me until my desire to be fucked got down to a manageable level, but physically, I couldn’t wait. Emotionally, I was a boiling cauldron of lust and excitement. I wanted this. Though my mind screamed Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! I couldn’t feel anything but desire.



Beep!



I pulled out my phone to see a text from Cammy. She’d gone inside first.



Cammy: ID age check at the door. Try to keep him from noticing your name.



V: How do I do that?



Cammy: Cleavage. Duh.



The guy on ID check duty at the door was not the best-looking example of homo sapiens fraternicus. He wasn’t cute or fit, but his clothes were all top-notch brands, and the resale value of the platinum watch on his wrist would have paid my tuition for a year.



Our eyes met when he asked for my ID. I gave him a slow smile and said, “Don’t I look like I’m twenty one? I leaned forward as I spoke, and all of the sudden I was getting a guy’s-eye view down the front of my dress and a direct line to his brain.



Look at those tits. Just the way I like them—big, bouncy and braless. And that dress. She might as well hang a sign around her neck that says, Fuck me! I would be more than happy to help her out. Wonder what her cunt looks like? Big lips and a landing strip?



“It’s bare.” I said.



“What?” He frowned in confusion as I took my ID back from his unresisting grip. He’d never even looked at it.



“My cunt,” I said. “It’s bare. Take me up to your room and I’ll show you.”



He swallowed nervously. “Is—is this some kind of joke?”



“No joke. I would really, really like to be fucked, and if you won’t have me, I’ll find someone who will.” I started to walk past him. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back to his side.



“Hey, Chase,” he shouted at a guy across the room. “Watch the door for me.”



The guy scowled. “But you just started twenty minutes ago.”



“Please?” His tone turned wheedling.



“No.”



“Sorry,” I twisted out of his grip. “I guess tonight isn’t your night.”



I walked across the foyer to Chase. Cammy was in the corner writing something on a little notepad. I pretended I hadn’t seen her and kept my attention on my prey. Chase was a little better looking than the guy at the door. Brown hair, gray eyes. Kind of preppy. He wanted me on my knees. Dress off, shoes on, and my shiny red lips around his cock



He said, “Do I know you?”



“No, but I’ll let you fuck me.”



“Is this a joke? Are you punking me?”



“Do I look like fucking Asthon Kutcher?”



“Hell, no.”



“Then come on. I want to suck your dick until your balls run dry.”



He took my hand and practically dragged me upstairs to a cramped room with bunked beds, and a futon wedged in front of a flat screen TV. The TV displayed a pause screen for Halo, and there was a brown-haired guy with a goatee on the futon taking a hit off a bong.



“Get out, Kyle,” Chase barked.



“Go fuck yourself, Chase.” Kyle shot back.



Chase turned to me. “I’m sorry. Maybe another room.”



I pulled off my dress. “Here is fine.”



Behind me, Kyle said, “Damn!” His desire hit me like a freight truck, hot and hard and heavy. He wanted to watch. And after…oh, yes, after…



I dropped to my knees and opened Chase’s fly. His cock was half-hard already, even with Kyle watching. No, wait, because Kyle was watching. He wanted Kyle to see him getting blown by a hot chick. He wanted Kyle to see him fucking my face and making me like it.



Mmm. That was totally doable. Just like me.



I gave his cock a long, loving lick. It felt so good. Chase and I both shivered with pleasure. I took him into my mouth and began to suck gently. I knew what he was feeling. I knew when to move my tongue. I knew when to graze with my teeth. And when he fisted his hand in my hair and shoved his cock down my throat, he almost came on the spot. And so did I.



Careful. I backed off until only the head of his cock remained between my lips. As I sucked gently, waiting for him to regain control, I slid my hand between my legs and began to rub my clit. As I took him deeper into my mouth, I slid my fingers into my pussy. It was as wet and hot as my mouth. Hotter. And tighter. My cunt clenched around my fingers as I continued to suck him. My juices dripped down my hand.



Kyle was watching. He was watching me blow Chase. He was watching me work my pussy with wet fingers. He was hard as stone. So hard it hurt. He wanted to take out his dick and jerk off while he watched me suck Chase, but it seemed rude.



I didn’t want him to jerk off. I didn’t want him to come. I wanted him to wait. I wanted him to fuck me when I finished his friend. I didn’t mean to, but somehow I mentally pushed the idea at Kyle, and it took root in his imagination.



He imagined bending me over the lower bunk and fucking me from behind until I came, screaming loud enough for the whole house to hear. He imagined that fuckwit, Chase, watching. Envying.



Out of the blue, my body rocked with a quick orgasm and began to build for another. I felt amazingly full of energy. Buzzing with it. I had two men actively wanting me. Desiring me. Focused on just me. I shook again. Again.



Chase came when he looked down and saw me getting myself off while I sucked him off. She gets off on this. Wonder what the fuck is wrong with her. But who cares, she’s sucking my dick while she fingerfucks herself. She seems to like it when I hold her head, when I fuck her throat. God damn, those tits. I wonder if she’ll let me fuck them. Wait, fuck that. I wonder if she’ll swallow. There’s only one way to find out.



Point of fact, there was actually more than one way to find out. He might have asked what I wanted, but he didn’t. He just held my head while he emptied three strong jets of semen into my mouth. And I, slut that I was, happily swallowed every drop and licked my lips afterwards.



Chase let himself fall backward onto the lower bunk and stared blankly into space.



“Here.” I turned, and Kyle threw a hand towel at me. I wiped my face. He got up and handed the bong to Chase, who absently took a hit.



“My turn.” Kyle started to undo his pants.



“You pervert,” Chase said, “Just because she let you watch, it doesn’t mean she wants to fuck you.”



“But she does.” Kyle said.



“I do.”



He laughed. “Come over here, babe. Let me get a look.”



I stood and walked the two steps to the clear space between the futon and the TV stand.



He weighed my breasts in his cupped hands and palmed my rounded ass cheeks. “Very nice.” His hand trailed around to my pussy. It was dripping. My thighs were wet. “Oh, yeah. Turn around.”



I knew what he wanted—I wanted it, too. I turned and braced my hands on the TV stand. He moved in behind me and grabbed my hips. He wasted no time in guiding his cock to the entrance of my pussy, and went balls deep with just one thrust.



“Mmm.” I said. “Your cock feels so good.” They were exactly the words he wanted to hear, but I meant them. I said them because I wanted to. Because I loved the rush of sensation that came when I made a man’s fantasies come true. “It’s so long and thick. It’s stretching me out, filling me up.”



“You like it?”



“I love it! Fuck me hard. Please. Pound me with that great big cock, baby. Make me scream!”



Perhaps now is not the best time to take a detour from the story, but I feel like we should discuss the nature of sexual fantasies. Some people think fantasies are all about getting other people to do and be what the fantasizer wants, but that’s only half of it. The other half involves the fantasizer being able to do and be everything he would like.



Think about it. Nobody is fat or ugly or stupid in their fantasies—unless they get a thrill out of that sort of thing. In our fantasies, we are our best selves—no, we’re better than our best. We’re fitter, stronger, faster and better-looking. We’re super-smart amazing lovers. We are everything we could ever wish to be.



Which brings us back to Kyle…



Kyle had never fucked a woman for an hour straight. He’d never even lasted five minutes once he got his dick in a girl, but when he wanked, he imagined he could go for hours. He imagined his dick was thick and long enough to send any woman into fits of screaming orgasms with no need for cunnilingus, or, indeed, for any sort of clitoral stimulation whatsoever.



Kyle cherished this fantasy. He honed it with daily use. He polished it pretty much every time he polished his knob. It sparkled like a lake of diamonds in my mind’s eye. His fantasy was rich and vivid and clear in his imagination. I dove into it like a cliff-diver jumping into the sea. I wrapped myself in it like a blanket. I rolled around in it like I was naked on a great big pile of cash.



Maybe that last one was a weird analogy, but since we’re on the subject of fantasies, I might as well admit that one of mine is to roll around naked in a pit of hundred-dollar bills.



What?



Don’t look at me like that. I’m sure lots of people are secretly aroused by the idea of rolling around in large sums of money. Anyway, we were talking about Kyle, not me. The point of this digression is not that I have some sort of so-called fetish for cash, but that somehow, I made Kyle’s fantasy come true—not just on my part, but on his.



Later, when I told Cammy what had happened, she theorized that I had somehow psychically projected my need to fulfill Kyle’s fantasy into his mind. So, basically, both of us were getting off acting out Kyle’s favorite masturbation visualization. Both of our bodies conformed to Kyle’s unspoken desire.



But that’s only a theory. We still don’t truly understand how my powers of Empathic Sexual Perception work. For all we know, it could be magic.



The only thing I know for sure is that Kyle fucked me for an hour straight. He ran me through every sexual position I’d ever heard of or imagined, and a few new ones that seemed to stretch not only the tensile limits of the human body, but the rules of reality, itself. He made me come so many times that I lost count somewhere in the sixties. My attention didn’t stray, my body didn’t tire, and my cunt didn’t get sore. My voice did go hoarse from screaming his name at the top of my lungs, but that was part of the fantasy.



Finally, when I was almost on the verge of blacking out, he shouted, “Yeah!” and ejaculated a physiologically improbable flood of cum into my quivering cunt. I sank to my knees and sat there, naked and stunned in a puddle of semen while Kyle raised his arms above his head like a gymnast who’d just stuck a ten-point landing.

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