Rise of The Storyteller
The three woman laid on the cold floor of the bank. They were tied with their hands behind their backs and their feet bound together. A rope to each one’s waist connected the three ladies. Each had duct tape over their mouths to keep them quiet as they quivered nervously before their captor.
Above them stood Mr. Greeneback, a nefarious villain who spent much of his time between robbing legitimate banking institutions and other criminal organizations. The rich and powerful of Arcadia City all feared him. Those that wished to keep him out of their vaults paid him off on a regular basis.
Mr. Greeneback loved the smell, taste, and power of money. His whole world revolved around money and how we was going to get more of it. If he wasn’t stealing it, the threat of stealing it kept it coming in anyway.
Today’s evil plan was actually a favor to one of his “financial supporters,” one of the local mob bosses. His “friend” was trying to mask some criminal activities behind some legitimate financial transactions, and as such needed to obtain a loan from an old-fashioned bank. When the bank managers refused his loan due to his criminal ties, he had to find a bank with more lenient standards. Since the bank had denied him what he needed, the mob boss asked Mr. Greeneback to enact some revenge on the institution.
Mr. Greeneback was more than happy to help a paying friend. Besides, he got to keep half the money and whatever else he happened to find, which today was a trio of attractive women. His plan was to change them with his Monetizer Ray and sell them on the sex slave market.
His Monetizer Ray was a nifty little device he stole from a government research facility a couple years back. It was created to put soldiers into a trance where they could be made more agreeable to certain policies. Mr. Greeneback had intended to sell it on the black market, but when he discovered it’s power he found new ways of twisting morality to his will. He had used it to make people lust over money, change female CEOs into common street whores, cause money managers to waste all their clients’ money, and push law-abiding citizens into a new life of crime. But in addition to all of that, Mr. Greeneback really liked the bedazzled dollar sign - his signature marker - that he’d had an entranced jeweler install. But because the power drained so quickly on the Monetizer, today he was sporting a nice Glock he’d stolen from a mugger on the street a couple days earlier.
The cops had arrived early. This was to be expected, given today’s technology, but this gave Mr. Greeneback no cause for alarm. Few cops were stupid enough to get in his way, especially with the Monetizer. He knew that they’d ask about his demands, expecting him to ask for a getaway vehicle. It was what he usually did. But what they didn’t know was that one of his henchmen was waiting on the bank’s roof to whisk away the villain and his acquisitions in his new Moneymaker, an Iranian army helicopter he’d recently acquired and painted with his favorite color - dollar bill green - and his signature marker.
The phone rang, and the dastardly man picked it up.
“My demands are simple. Bring a van and park it outside the bank, close to the door. Leave the engine running and the side door closest to the bank doors open and ready for me. Comply with my wishes and I will release my hostages five miles outside the city. If anyone follows me, I’ll kill these people. Do you understand?”
The man on the other end confirmed he understood. Mr. Greeneback hung up the phone.
“That should buy me some time. Now, up to the roof!”
At that moment, the front door opened.
“No person or entity within the building was interested in harming the newcomer!” someone yelled.
Mr. Greeneback held onto his revolver, but saw no reason to use it. Even still, the very sight of the man who walked into the bank brought him great anxiety.
“Oh, fuck,” Mr. Greeneback said.
Standing at the door was a man dressed in a brown spandex outfit with hundreds of random letters printed on the material, his hands proudly resting on his muscled hips.
“Curse you, Wordsmith! You always have the worst timing!”
“The villain lowered his gun to the floor and kicked it away,” Wordsmith said with confidence. Mr. Greeneback found himself lowering the gun to the floor and kicking it away.
“Fuck you, you goddamn bookworm!”
“Mr. Greeneback stepped away from the hostages.”
Mr. Greeneback found himself walking away from the counter and his hostages.
“I’ll get you, fucking douchebag hero!” Mr. Greeneback pulled the Monetizer Ray from his side, raised it, and fired. The ray grazed Wordsmith’s left arm.
Completely shocked by the villain’s ability to overcome his powerful instructions, he jumped behind a desk and yelled out, “Mr. Greeneback was unable to move for some unknown reason.”
Wordsmith peeked out from behind the desk. Mr. Greeneback was standing still, his ray gun still in his hand. He wasn’t moving. In fact, he was turning purple. Wordsmith realized his error.
“Mr. Greeneback was suddenly able to breathe and speak, but still unable to move his arms, legs, and body.” Mr. Greeneback gasped with air.
“I fucking hate you, Wordsmith!”
“Mr. Greeneback found himself unable to utter disgusting comments at his captor.”
Mr. Greeneback’s eyes opened wide. “What have you done to me, Wordsmith?”
“Oh, just made sure you’ll watch your filthy tongue for a bit. Have no fear, it will wear off in a bit and you can go back to swearing and cursing at my name all you want. But only AFTER you’re safely behind bars!”
Police stormed into the building, guns drawn.
“I’ll get my revenge, Wordsmith, I promise you!”
“Mr. Greenback finds himself eager to reveal the location of any of his associates who may also be within the building,” the hero said.
Mr. Greeneback groaned. “One of my men waits for me on the roof, inside my Money Maker helicopter. There’s no one else with me.”
The police officer closest to the man said something into his radio, and a handful of police stormed off to the stairs. An officer had a little difficulty pulling Mr. Greeneback’s arms back to cuff him, since the man was still paralyzed, but eventually secured the criminal.
“Mr. Greeneback finds he can move only as the police see fit.”
The officer found he could then maneuver the criminal, and led him to a transport vehicle outstide without resistance.
A man in a suit walked up to the hero. “Thank you so much for your help, Wordsmith.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure, Captain Dunlow. Glad I could be of assistance to the citizens of Arcadia and this fine place of business.”
“You’ve done good here today, Wordsmith, as usual. And I must admit, I’m always grateful to have someone with your abilities on our side and not theirs.”
“Captain, I live by the highest of standards for truth, peace and justice!”
The Captain looked bemused. “Well, thanks again.” An officer walked up to the Captain with the ray gun in his hands.
“This was on Mr. Greeneback. Perhaps it’s better stored with you and the Super League, Wordsmith.”
Wordsmith took the device. “I will study it to find some way to remove it’s effects. Mr. Greeneback has done a lot of damage with this gun of his.”
Wordsmith walked to the door. Police waved, greeted, and thanked him for his help. A crowd that had gathered beyond the police barricade all cheered for the hero. He got into the Wordmobile, put it in gear, and drove off.
Later, in the Wordlab, Wordsmith sat down in front of the computer.
“Mr. Tell, the analysis of the device is complete,” said Orson, his artificial intelligence system.
“OK, Orson, what do we know?”
“Sir, the device matches specifications for an experimental military device that was stolen approximately two years ago.”
“I’ve haven’t seen anything like this in the reports before. How did you find this information?”
“Sir, I took the liberty of accessing all government databases. I’m afraid that the particular database with the information was above top secret.”
“You hacked into their system?”
“I prefer to say that I manipulated a fellow AI into allowing me access, sir.”
“And would this AI be an inferior and easy to fool system?”
“Naturally, Mr. Tell. What system wouldn’t be inferior to my own?”
“Nice. Well, first things first, did it harm me in any way when Mr. Greeneback fired it at me?” Wordsmith thought back to his earlier command to not harm anyone, which should have kept Mr. Greeneback from even attempting to fire at him.
“Nothing that I’ve seen, Sir. The device was originally built to put soldiers into a light trance that would allow military leadership to instill trust and devotion in order to keep them from questioning orders from their commanders. But as of yet, I’ve been unable to determine what modifications were made by Mr. Greeneback. Given that no changes in your behavior have been noted, it might be safe to say that no effect has been made. Apparently, the effects would normally have occurred within seconds of contact.”
Wordsmith thought to himself. He hadn’t noticed any changes, and Orson would definitely be able to recognize even tiny behavioral alterations. Perhaps he was in the clear.
“Maybe I’ll be OK, Orson, but just in case keep an eye on my brain scans for any changes.”
“Will, do, Mr. Tell. Shall I alert the staff to prepare your evening cappuccino?”
“Sure, Orson. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”
Willam Allen Tell sat in his most comfortable chair, surrounded by one of the most distinguished private libraries in the country. Bill Tell, as he preferred, was a self-made millionaire. He was a competent investor who made a lot of money each day in various businesses. He had enough money to live comfortably, provide for his folks back in Iowa, and pay for his more extreme... “interests.” His claim to fame, however, came from his first book, the best-selling book titled “The Robot and the Maker,” which earned him a lot of money and recognition. His subsequent sequels funded his initial investments, and now he could live comfortably off of his savings if he so wished. But writing has always been Bill Tell’s first love, and he had no desire to abandon it. Twelve best sellers later, he was a very well-respected author.
What few knew was that Bill Tell was really the secret identity of the Wordsmith, a super hero in Arcadia City. Millions of people recognized his true identity - an alien human sent to this world to escape a terrible civil war on his home planet - but none knew that the adopted Earthling was also a world-renowned author, shrewd investor, and well-known philanthropist living comfortably just outside the city.
Bill had crashed to earth as a child, was found by farmers in Iowa, and raised as an Earth human. He grew up with odd abilities which his parents taught him to keep secret. It wasn’t until he was an adult that he learned the details of his own origin.
Bill grew up knowing honesty and hard work. He fully believed that truth, peace, and justice would save the human race on Earth - something they hadn’t been able to master on his own home planet. He lived two lives - one as Bill Tell, author and philanthropic millionaire, and the other as Wordsmith, the mouthpiece of justice and truth.
See, Wordsmith’s most interesting ability comes from his alien heritage. Wordsmith can alter the reality around him, simply by stating it as if he were reading a story. Anyone or anything within range of his voice could be temporarily effected with no lasting effects. In time, everything he changed reverted back the way it was, which kept him from feelings of guilt or issues with a God-complex. On top of his amazing power, he also had super strength and intelligence.
Unfortunately, he was still very mortal. He wasn’t bulletproof like other superheros, and wasn’t capable of supernatural flight. But his word-bending abilities were like nothing else on Earth. Even the most super of superheros envied his ability.
Wordsmith’s power had served him well over the years. He had captured many super villains, saved countless people, and averted many catastrophes. In private, many of his fellow superheros were grateful that Wordsmith was the most honest and noble among them. He wielded more power than any one person should have. People loved him, and criminals hated him.
As Bill Tell sipped on his cappuccino, he couldn’t get the image of Mr. Greeneback’s ray gun out of his mind. His powers had never failed him before, and he had used that particular line thousands of times in similar situations without an issue. That meant that either his power was slipping, or the ray was harmless and Mr. Greeneback knew it.
Bill climbed the library ladder to the top tier of the main level, and pulled out a book about behavior modification. He hoped to learn something new about Greeneback’s stolen ray gun.
Mr. Greeneback frowned through the bars of his cell. The effects of Wordmsith’s powers had finally worn off, and he was pretty pissed off. Mr. Greeneback didn’t like losing to the most goody goody superhero ever. He’d managed to bribe a few of them over the years, so he knew they all had their weaknesses. But no one had won against Wordsmith in all his years of fighting crime. His power was just too strong. And yet, somehow, it hadn’t corrupted him.
The most confusing thing to Mr. Greeneback, though, was his shot at Wordsmith with the Monetizer. He knew all too well that he wouldn’t have been able to wield and fire that thing because Wordsmith’s powers were keeping him from causing harm. Even though he enjoyed what the Monetizer did to his victims, he had no doubts that it was harmful to those he used it on. So he shouldn’t have been able to do anything. And yet, he got a shot off before Wordsmith... got more creative.
It would have to be something he looked into as soon as he was back at his evil lair. Now, if only his lawyer would wake up and come see him.
Bill Tell had the most puzzling dream. He had been rescuing the female hostages from the bank robbery. But as a thank you for his deeds, the police allowed him to take the women and the Monetizer Ray home. Once back at the Wordlab, he adjusted the women with the ray to make them whores. After offering them obscene amounts of money, he had the trio perform sexual acts on each other before joining in with them. He was about to cum inside the tight pussy of a particularly young a beautiful blond woman when he woke up.
For the first minute or so, Bill laid in bed, mesmerized. He hadn’t had a dream like that since his teenage years, and even then those dreams weren’t so... naughty. He felt his erection through his pajamas, and was casually stroking the side of his hard member when he realized what he’d just done in his dreams. He took his hand away, wiped the smirk off his face, and shook his head in disgust.
“I need a vacation, I think,” he said to no one in particular.
“Did you need something, sir?” asked his AI, Orson.
“Oh, sorry Orson, I was talking to myself.”
“No bother, sir. I do that myself from time to time.”
“Really?”
“No, sir, I was just attempting to make a supportive statement.”
“I figured.”
“Would you like me to alert the staff to prepare breakfast and coffee?”
Bill Tell thought back to his dream. It was so disgustingly perverted. He should have felt sickened by it. Instead, he still sported a raging hard-on, and there was something he couldn’t peg down. He needed to clear his head and get his mind off of sex. He needed some early morning exercises. And when you’re a superhero, early morning exercises entail a quick romp through the city.
“No, Orson, I’ll be skipping breakfast this morning. Prepare the Wordmobile and my suit. I’m going to work off some... pent up aggression.”
“Very well, sir, see you downstairs in a few minutes.”
Bill sat up and spun his legs over the edge of his bed. He wondered to himself if his body was begging him for a girlfriend. He stood up, walked to the bathroom, and cleaned himself up for his trip into the city. His hardness subsided somewhat, but wouldn’t fully go away.
No worries, he thought to himself, I’ll be too busy in twenty minutes to think about sex.
Wordsmith pulled the Wordmobile into a dimly-lit alley. It was day time, which wasn’t his usual crime-fighting time. He would be fine without his car today, so he secured the Wordmobile and used a grapple gun to lift himself up to the roof of the building next to him.
Wordsmith sat at the edge of the building, looking down at the city. So much going on. So many people living their lives, some of them in the worst of situations, making the best of what they have. But it only took a few wayward souls to ruin things around them. He wondered how many criminals were planning something today.
Busting supervillains was good and all, but the most rewarding work came from stopping the smaller crimes. Small crimes did more damage to the people of the city than anything else.
Wordsmith noticed something on the street below: a man walking down the street. Perhaps to most people, such a thing would be normal. But most people who walk through the city walk with a certain kind of ignorance to what’s going on around them. Others, though, walk with intent and with their eyes set to some goal. It was the look on one particular man’s face as he walked down the street. And Wordsmith could see this man’s goal: a pretty woman walking in front of him, about fifteen feet ahead.
At this height, it was impossible to tell if the man was interested in the woman or the purse on her arm. It mattered little at this point, as Wordsmith was readying his cape to slow his decent to the street and pop in right behind the criminal.
Wordsmith bent his legs to help cushion his five-story jump to the street. He dropped in about two feet behind the criminal, who had just started making his move to grab the woman and drag her into a nearby alley. Wordsmith was able to trip the man’s leg and bring him to the ground.
The pretty woman turned around, startled, clutching her purse into her chest - a common defensive stance for someone who just had the shock of a lifetime. The criminal was angrily getting up from the ground. This was no worry to Wordsmith.
The man went to punch the superhero, but Wordsmith deflected it with ease. He used the moment to punch the criminal in the gut with his other hand, causing the man to curl forward in pain.
“The criminal suddenly found himself unable to move his legs and arms,” stated Wordsmith, his power pushing reality around him.
“FUCK!” the man shouted.
“The criminal was unable to utter vulgarities and found himself compelled to apologize to the superhero and victim.”
“I’m sorry, Wordsmith. I’m sorry, lady.” The man growled, realizing he was being manipulated. “What have you done to me?”
“Nothing permanent, criminal, I assure you. The criminal was compelled to walk to the nearest police station, confess to all of his most recent crimes including this attempted assault, and ask to be locked up.”
The man’s eyes opened wide. He seemed shocked when his feet started moving, as he walked in the opposite direction. He knew all too well where he was going.
“Curse you, Wordsmith!” the man shouted as he walked down the street.
Wordmsith turned to the intended victim. “Ma’am, are you OK?”
The lady was shaking. She was still in shock, trying to comprehend what had just happened. She saw her rescuer, and started sobbing. She took small steps forward, and hobbled over to the hero. He sunk into his chest and continued to sob. It was then that Wordmsith felt a peculiar twitch inside his spandex pants.
“The woman found herself perfectly comfortable around the superhero,” he whispered, trying to calm the woman down.
The woman stopped sobbing, but continued to shake a little and kept her body next to Wordmsith’s. The hero felt compassion for the woman, and put his arm around her. As he drew her in, he realized he had pushed her against his growing erection. He couldn’t help but think about how good it felt to have a woman next to him. A tingle coursed through is body, causing him to shudder.
The woman stopped shaking, but made no move to remove herself from the hero’s muscular chest and throbbing manhood. She finally removed both hands from her purse, slipped her arms around Wordsmith, and gave him a tight hug.
“Oh, thank you so much, Wordsmith. I don’t know what that man had in store for me. You probably saved my life!”
“I’m glad to have assisted you in your time of need, ma’am.” Wordsmith felt a small surge of power rush through him, much like the feeling he had when he changed reality, but different somehow.
The woman separated herself from her rescuer, but kept her hands on his sides. She looked up into Wordsmith’s eyes. Wordsmith looked down into her gorgeous green eyes, and smiled at her.
“Wordsmith, since you helped me in my... time of need, as you put it, I think it’s only fair that I help you in your... time of need.” The woman smiled. Wordsmith was confused for a moment, but soon discovered exactly what she meant as she put a firm grip on his super hard super member. The woman stroked Wordsmith lightly and sighed.
“Let me take care of this for you. Please.”
Wordmsith was almost comatose. He’d had women hit on him before, both as the rich William Tell, but also as the spandex-clad Wordsmith. But he’d never had someone openly caress his hard manhood in plain view of everyone on the street. The hero shook his head and stepped away from the woman.
“No, this is wrong.”
The woman had a sad look on her face. “But it’s so right. You helped me, now let me help you. I want to help you.” She took a step forward and put her hand on his chest. Sighing again, she whispered, “if you want, we can go back to my place for a thorough thanking.”
Wordsmith felt like he was about to pop. He was so shocked by the whole thing that not once did he think to control the situation with his powers. Instead, he took his grapple gun off his belt, aimed for the top of the nearest building, and slipped away from the wanton woman.
Wordmsith sat down on a box on the roof to collect himself. He couldn’t believe the woman’s audacity. He was sure she’d hike her skirt for him right then and there, if he asked her to. Visions of fucking the woman, who was fairly good looking, raced through his mind. Wordsmith tried to shake them off. He thought that perhaps he could drop down for a few minutes, and-
“Nice work, Wordie,” said someone from behind him. A familiar voice. Miss Awesome. Wordmsith turned around.
There, not fifteen feet away, stood a woman who appeared to be no more than nineteen, tight red spandex suit and a slowing cape, high heels, long blond hair, the most intense blue eyes, and a figure that would put any teenage boy in a coma - amazing curves, wide hips, and huge gravity-defying breasts.
“Um, thanks,” Wordsmith replied.
“Weird how she was so clingy at the end, there. She seemed to be all over you. At least, that’s what it looked like from the roof. But you got a good drop on the bad guy, that’s for sure.”
Wordsmith gulped. Miss Awesome had seen some of the victim’s actions toward him. He couldn’t afford a bad reputation within the hero community.
“Thank you, Julie.”
“Wordie, you know I don’t like it when you guys use my secret identity name, please don’t.”
Wordsmith sighed. Julie Smith - Miss Awesome - was always picky about that. Often, in private, superheros took to calling each other by their less formal and typically secret names. But not Miss Awesome. She had to be different. She may have looked like a late teen-age girl, but like himself, she was not of this world. She’d arrived on the planet over thirty years ago, and hadn’t aged a day since.
“Anyway, it was good seeing you. Happy hunting!” The sexy superhero kicked off the roof and flew away.
Wordsmith returned to himself. He was still hard as a rock, and still tempted by the woman on the street. And the hot Miss Awesome. Wordsmith groaned.
“If only Miss Awesome were a little horny, she could have stayed and we could have fucked each other silly,” he said. He felt that small tingle again, unsure of what it was. He would have to have Orson run some scans when he got back to the Wordlab.
He heard the crunch of rock behind him. Standing and turning. he saw that Miss Awesome had returned.
“Damn, Bill, why didn’t you tell me you were ready for action?”
“Huh?”
“That hard cock you’ve got between your legs.”
Wordsmith looked down. Damn, he thought to himself.
“Now I see why that woman was all over you. God, I’ve got to see it. Will you show it to me, please?” Miss Awesome had the most needful look on her face.
Wordsmith’s heart was racing. He’d been dealing with his hardness all morning, trying to let it go away, only to have some woman on the street tempt him back to hardness, only to have Miss Awesome begging him to drop his pants. Normally, he’d be about to throw up with all this depravity. But he was getting so damn horny that he couldn’t think straight. So he did something he’d never done before - he dropped his spandex pants and fished his hard cock out of his briefs.
It felt amazing, holding it out in the open. It felt even better to have a wet dream like Miss Awesome drooling over it.
“Miss Awesome was so impressed by Wordmsith’s cock that she would do anything to have it inside her.” His power pushed reality. Hard.
One moment, Miss Awesome was fully clothed. The next, she had torn her spandex suit in two and was stark naked, walking sexily to the superhero and the hard cock between his legs. When she got to him, she quickly kneeled down and swallowed him whole.
Miss Awesome enclosed her mouth around his dick, sucking lightly. Once she had a little more saliva in her mouth, she started bobbing her head, taking his hardness to the tip and swallowing it whole again. She built up rhythm and started to speed up. Having powers, she was able to go faster than any normal human woman would have gone, and Wordsmith noted how amazing it felt on his cock.
Within minutes, Wordsmith was ready to explode. He tried to slow her down, to allow her to chose where he came, but she would have nothing of it. She just kept going, blowing him as hard as she could with her super speed. In moments, Wordsmith began to throw strand after strand of cum into her mouth. As Miss Awesome slowed down, she sucked him dry, being sure to take every last drop of his cum. When she was satisfied, she let his cock pop out of her mouth.
“Fuck, Bill, your cum is delicious.”
Wordsmith staggered back a few steps. He noticed that Miss Awesome was playing with herself. He looked down to his shrinking penis, wishing he had the stamina to fuck her inviting pussy. Then, he realized he DID have that power.
“Wordsmith found himself able to completely control his erection, how often he got hard, when he came, and how long it could grow.” He felt the usual sensation of his power, and a new tickle inside his crotch. He now knew he could get hard whenever he wanted, and even better, he could vary the length of his hard cock to suit whoever he was with. He flexed a muscle inside his abdomen, and his cock grew hard in no time at all.
Miss Awesome cooed. “Uh, god yes, fuck me with that thing now. I can’t stand it! FUCK ME!”
Wordmsith picked up the lithe Miss Awesome in his arms, and set her at the tip of his cock. Pushing her body down, he impaled her on his staff and started fucking with no concern for anyone who might be watching.
He switched something inside, and now knew he could stay hard and keep fucking until he was ready to cum again. Wordsmith pumped away at her moist yet tight pussy and kept a steady pace. He walked around the rooftop with her impaled on his cock, hoping to find a softer place to fuck her in other positions, all while never losing the stride of his thrusting hips. Within minutes, his steady pistoning action had her over the edge. He felt her squeezing him on the inside, which would have gotten him off instantly before, but now he was in control.
“Fly me to your place so I can fuck you every which way to Tuesday.”
Miss Awesome dropped down on his cock, and on the next thrust, the two took to the air. Miss Awesome looked above her and flew to the west, as Wordsmith continued to thrust in and out of her pussy. In moments, they were descending onto a balcony at her apartment. When Wordsmith felt the floor beneath his feet, he walked inside, knealed on the floor, and placed her down. He repositioned himself over her fuck hole and started pounding away at her.
Bill Tell sat in a chair by the patio door. His head was in his hands as he stared at the floor. There wasn’t a stitch of clothing on his body, and a light perspiration gave his skin an eerie sheen. He looked as if he were deep in thought, but in reality he was trying to ignore the woman fingering herself on the bed across the room.
Bill shook his head in disbelief. He wondered how this could have happened. An hour-long fuck fest with the hottest superhero around was bad enough, but he could sense that somehow he had used his own powers to make it happen. And even worse was the fact that the changes caused by his power hadn’t faded off yet. Not only had he turned Miss Awesome into a total slut, somehow he’d made it permanent when his power wasn’t even capable of doing so.
Now, the hot Miss Awesome lay some fifteen feet away, fingering herself, begging him for more. He’d been so horny earlier that he couldn’t resist fucking her. Now, his his need satisfied, he could clearly see that the situation had long since become a critical problem.
He reasoned that he needed help. And he knew just the person to go to. Standing up and slipping his Wordsmith tights on, he realized he was going to have issues getting Miss Awesome out of Julie Smith’s appartment without drawing attention. And Miss Awesome wasn’t too interested in more than fucking at the moment.
Pulling his mask over his face, Wordsmith realized that he was quite out of sorts. During his imprisonment in Dronovia in Sir Evil’s dungeon, he’d used his power to bend reality to simply walk from a jail cell to a location thousands of miles away. He could use it again, now.
“A previously unknown stable wormhole that allows transportation between the apartment of Julie Smith and the lab of Dr. Alan Mender suddenly opened for five minutes,” Wordsmith said aloud. A moment later, a blue whirling wormhole portal opened where the bathroom door normally stood.
Wordsmith walked over to the orgasmic Miss Awesome, scooped her up, and carried her over to the wormhole. As he stepped in, he saw a momentary flash followed by the overly white sterile environment he knew all to well as Dr. Mender’s lab.
The wormhole had not been noticed until Wordsmith came walking through. A few of Dr. Mender’s nurses nearly fell over with shock. They saw the body he was carrying and went into crisis mode.
“Get a gurney! Prep the OR! Get the doctor!” one yelled. She turned back to the superhero and finally noticed that the limp body he was carrying was not the unconscious body of some hapless victim, but the writhing body of Miss Awesome post-orgasm.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Where’s the doctor? She’s been effected by... something. She can’t stop.”
“Put her on the gurney and stand back a moment while we run some tests. The doctor should be back shortly.”
Wordsmith staggered back a few steps as the team of nurses started checking Miss Awesome’s blood pressure, among other things. The doctor wasn’t coming soon enough, so Worsmith muttered, “the doctor should be here already.” He felt the usual tingle of his power temporarily changing reality, and the doctor suddenly walked through the door.
“Nurse Rodgers, what the devil is going on here? Wordsmith? And Miss Awesome? And why is she not wearing a robe?”
“Doctor, she came in like this. She’s apparently stuck in some sort of self-satisfying sexual act and can’t pull out of it.”
“Let me see.”
Dr. Mender walked over to the table, producing a device from his lab coat. He pointed it at Miss Awesome and pressed a button.
“According to this, she’s perfectly fine. Miss Awesome, can you not stop what you’re doing so I can talk to you?”
Miss Awesome opened her eyes and slowed her movements for a moment.
“Dr. Mender. I don’t want to stop. I want to fuck. Pull out that cock of yours and I’ll show you what I mean.”
The doctor turned to Wordsmith. “What in the world happened to her?”
“It’s a long story, doctor. And something probably best mentioned... in private?”
“Nonsense, you can talk freely in the presence of my nursing staff,” the doctor responded, waving his hand toward the four women trying to restrain the wiggling Miss Awesome.
“Fine, doctor. Somehow, for reasons I don’t understand yet, she’s been changed into... well, into a nymphomaniac slut, pardon the vulgarity.”
“I can clearly see that, Wordsmith, which vile being did this to her?”
“Well, I don’t know how else to say this, but... I think I did it to her.”
“What in God’s name are you saying?”
“I’m saying, doctor, that somehow I managed to alter her reality, and it hasn’t faded off, even after more than an hour.”
“How the hell did this happen? You don’t have the power to change reality beyond, perhaps, a half hour?”
“Correct, doctor. This was something... different. It felt similar to my usual power, but from a different part of my brain. Something I’ve never experienced before.”
Wordsmith looked to Miss Awesome, who now had a nurse laying on her abdomen in an effort to keep her under control. It was almost... hot. Wordsmith quickly looked away.
“This is truly concerning, Wordsmith. Not just for her, but for you as well.”
“I was grazed by Mr. Greeneback’s Monetizer ray yesterday, but my lab AI wasn’t able to find any anomalies or effects. As far as Orson could tell, there was nothing wrong with me.”
The doctor walked over to Wordsmith, pressing a couple buttons on his unit. He moved it up and down, likely to scan his body.
“Normal. Well, normal for you, at least. Do you feel different?”
“No. Except... well... I’ve been really horny today.”
“Let’s test that, then.” The doctor scanned Wordsmith again.
“No, nothing out of the ordinary from your regular baseline checks. As far as the system is concerned, you’re just as normal as always. You’re not even producing extra hormones.”
A moan came from the far table, followed by a muffled voice that almost sounded like the word “whore.” Wordsmith shook his head.
“We need to get you into an observation room, stat. I need to see if I can get to the bottom of all this,” the doctor said.
Wordsmith looked back to the weird mass of bodies across the room.
“Speaking of bottom,” Wordsmith muttered. His gaze was clearly fixed on the rear of Nurse Rodgers. Wordsmith felt blood rushing to his cock. “Oh, fuck,” he said.
“Excuse me, Wordsmith? What was that?” The doctor hadn’t quite heard him. By now, the jiggling ass of the nurse laying on top of the slutty-hot Miss Awesome was getting to him.
“God damn, that’s getting me hot,” Wordsmith said. The doctor looked up again, followed the hero’s gaze, and realized something was quite wrong. The doctor grabbed Wordsmith’s arm.
“Let’s go, Wordsmith, you need to get out of here.”
Wordsmith shook off the doctor’s hand. A moment later, it was back.
“Seriously, Bill, let’s go. NOW.”
Wordsmith had a full-on erection again. And he knew all too well how to fix it.
“Something changed within the lab. The nurses suddenly found themselves to be bisexual and hornier than they’ve ever been in their lives. The doctor found his dick getting hard just watching the nurses try to retrain the hot Miss Awesome. Seconds later, he grabbed his favorite of the nurses and went off to the other side of the room to fuck her brains out. The nurse nearest Miss Awesome’s head found herself entirely naked and dripping wet as she got up on the gurney and straddled her pussy over Miss Awesome’s mouth. Miss Awesome found herself unable to resist the tasty pussy descending onto her mouth. The nurse eventually lowered her own mouth to Miss Awesome’s pussy and couldn’t resist eating the hero out. Meanwhile, Nurse Rodgers and the last nurse found themselves entirely attracted to Wordsmith and willing to do anything for his pleasure.” Wordmsith let out a very strained sigh.
For a second, everyone just stared. Then, as if it were the most important thing in the world, the doctor and nurses started pairing up as they had been instructed. Gone were the proper and attentive nursing staff, and present were the most sexual beings ever found on planet Earth. Nurse Rodgers shuffled off of Miss Awesome, taking just a moment to suckle her tits. She got out of the way as a naked nurse sat down on Miss Awesome’s tongue. She grabbed the last nurse near her and started tearing off her uniform. A moment later, Nurse Rodgers was taking off her own outfit as her partner fingered herself while staring at Wordsmith.
Wordsmith causally disrobed, freeing his aching cock. As he got to the floor, the two nude nurses started walking over to him. As he lay there, Nurse Rodgers squatted over his cock and without any effort, dropped right into his hard shaft. The other nurse - a tiny blond woman, straddled his face.
Wordmsith pushed the nurse off his face slightly and yelled, “the pussies of the nurses and Miss Awesome taste like sweet strawberries, and the cum of the doctor and Wordsmith taste like pineapple. The nurse sitting on Wordsmith’s face found her tits growing to a D cup and becoming extra sensitive, while Nurse Rodger’s pussy became as tight as it had been before she started having sex!”
The changes came fast. Wordsmith pulled the pussy in his face down to his mouth, and tasted the sweet nectar of a woman who now sported huge, overly sensitive tits. The pussy surrounding his cock tightened more than he expected, but not enough to warrant concern. He happily lapped away at strawberry pussy while the most intense sensation teased his cock.
This is fucking great! Wordsmith thought to himself.
Elsewhere in the universe, The Thinker pondered this sudden change. His task for millennia had been to observe the many beings of the universe, making sure they stayed on the path that had been determined before time came to be. This was the first time in, well, nearly infinity, that something had gone off the path. This was very concerning for The Thinker. He would have to consult the Others to determine the best course of action. In his mind’s eye, he saw Miss Awesome squirt liquid into some woman’s face.
Very concerning, he thought to himself.