Sable and The Supers Ch. 01byFalcinator©
This is version 2. I went back and found not only inconsistencies/continuity errors but really embarrassing editing mistakes, which made me professionally horrified and guilt-ridden. There's minor rewriting as well.
This contains scenes of a sexual nature including non-consent and mind-control. Blah, blah, legal age of consent.
Now: This is a parody. It is a spoof. It is, not to beat about the bush, written in a spirit of sarcasm, mockery and gleeful parody.
It also contains what I hope are some running threads of titillation and some hot sex, with vacuum pumps and really big things.
I just don't want you thinking I'm being serious about the traditional "super" genre, that's all.
As always - I welcome feedback, positive or negative, in the comments below or anonymously. Also pictures.
Now grab some popcorn and tissues, and enjoy.
Sable and The Supers
Claire looked down at the smoking ruin that had been her car and body, and swore violently.
Well, that meant dinner with Andrew was off.
Then the question of how she was seeing this at all intruded and she pinched herself hard to see if she woke up.
"You are dead, you are now a spirit," a calm voice said.
Her hand was halfway to her mace before she realised how ludicrous that was, and stopped.
She was being observed by a bearded old-man figure that awoke deep cultural memories and made her instantly suspicious.
Around them the world faded away to be replaced by featureless mists filled with a diffuse, gentle white light. Her feet were not visibly connected to anything and when she tried to jump up and down, her inner ears didn't report anything.
"You have been rescued from death," the man continued, "because you possess the sense of justice and nobility of spirit needed to become a defender of the weak and the unfortunate.
"You are being offered the chance to begin a second life as a Heroine."
"A what?" Claire had worked her entire life in non-profit service industries, but would have been the first to say her heart hadn't been entirely in it and she had been there for the meagre wages and because she hadn't managed to escape. She was also pretty sure she had heard capitals around the noun, which she wasn't happy about.
"A Heroine, a defender of the ... "
"Weak and unfortunate, I think you said something about that." Claire shrugged, having no idea what the other options were when dead but willing to try anything once and having done enough in disorganised organisations to be prepared to try anything once, and bitch-slap it into submission. "Sure, why not?"
"Very well then," the figure said, without a hint of frustration or annoyance. "You will become a Superheroine."
The view faded away, the mists flowing around her and through her, clearing to reveal a rooftop, dizzyingly high, above a sprawling city.
She began walking towards the edge of the roof, stumbled and nearly fell.
Startled, she looked down and then stared in disbelief.
Her attractive-side-of-average body and reasonably nice, firm, C-cup breasts appeared to have been stolen and replaced by Barbie, as drawn by a college kid.
She was wearing a basic Lycra outfit and what looked like a DD bosom seemed to be holding itself up in defiance of all laws of gravity and physiology. She could see down between her new breasts to the rest of her body, and that view and a quick feel discovered tone she had never possessed in life.
"Nice six-pack, but what the hell?" she muttered before being startled out of her skin by a voice behind her saying "Howdy, sister!"
A blonde, wearing a cape, midriff-revealing top, bondage boots and a pleated skirt so short her very sensible panties were visible, descended feet-first from the sky and landed on the roof.
"Sister?" Claire echoed, numbly.
"Of course! You're one of us! Welcome to the Supers! Isn't it super!"
The labored joke could be seen looming before the previous sentence had finished. Claire chose to ignore it.
She gestured at herself. "What's with the Barbie bod?" she demanded.
"It's one of the perks of being a superhero!" the adolescent whom Claire had instantly dubbed "Perky Girl" said. "You get a great body!" she clapped her hands and then twirled around, hopping into the air and staying a little longer than was really necessary.
"Whose idea of a great body is this?" Claire demanded, incredulously.
Perky Girl looked at her in confused shock. "Isn't it a great body?" she asked, in the same tone as "But why didn't the Easter Bunny come?"
Claire groaned. "Fuck," she said bitterly, "I'm in Bloke World."
Perky Girl flared up. "You must not swear!" she exclaimed. "We must set a wholesome example!"
Claire had to fight down a rising desire to hit her.
"Come in and meet the gang!" Perky Girl said, bubbly again, skipping towards a door set into a small hut on the roof. Her hair bounced and her substantial breasts didn't.
The headquarters of the League of Light (Claire nearly vomited) was the entire building. They were a little vague about what happened in the bits they themselves weren't using. Claire promptly vowed to find out as soon as she could.
Perky Girl bubbled away all the way down the staircase, until Claire wanted to push her face through the concrete.
But she did learn that the girl's real name was Sunburst Girl (no, really) and that her powers were flight and the ability to light any dark space "or dazzle evil-doers!"
Claire thought that flashing those knickers would do much the same for most "evil-doers."
"Oh, and we all get super strength, of course! You'll have to remember that when you're carrying babies to safety!"
Claire almost had to rip her own oesophagus out, but she managed to avoid saying "Why would I want to do that?"
"You'll have to discover what your powers are," Perky Girl babbled on (the name had stuck in Claire's head) "and then pick a name. And a costume! Oh, that's the fun part! I'll help you! It'll be so much fun!"
Looking at the Super's orange slut outfit, Claire grimly determined to never, ever let that happen.
They approached a door and Claire finally couldn't contain herself any longer.
"P... Sunburst Girl," she began. "Have you ever gotten laid?"
The Super turned around, aghast. "Of course not! I'm not married!" Then she added, as an afterthought, "Of course, every so often we get captured by evil supervillains and molested by genetically engineered henchmen or brainwashed and made to serve as love slaves before we escape."
Then she bounced through the door, leaving Claire staring after her in open-mouthed horror.
The girl reappeared, said "Come ON, silly!" grabbed her hand and pulled her through.
The rest of the League was waiting inside. Their leader appeared to be Volcano, a huge man with muscles on his muscles, about the size of a door frame and "Flight, and strength greater than super strength!"
"Nice to meet you," Claire began. "I'm ... "
Volcano held up a meaty hand to cut her off. "No! Only your Super name matters, here."
Claire resisted the urge to ask if this was some form of witless protection program.
Zephyr could fly and summon winds of all intensity, and wore a silver grey catsuit unzipped halfway to her navel, with lines of light blue radiating up from her ankles to her shoulders.
Morpheus could fly and induce people to sleep and have pleasant dreams, and wore a sparkly black jumpsuit that a Vegas stage magician may have considered too gaudy.
Fern could fly and produce plants, and wore a green leotard that started just barely above her nipples, green stockings and green Roman sandals along with a green eye mask and green gloves. Claire was pretty sure that not even nature had produced most of those shades, not even on the most lurid orchids or birds of paradise.
The Mole could burrow through all solid matter and not get his glossy red and brown skin suit dirty.
Claire couldn't help herself "Can you fly, as well?"
He chuckled, and said "No, I can't fly."
Claire could tell from his very level tone that he was sick of it, but the glint in his eye persuaded her not to push it just yet.
"Are you everyone?"
Volcano chuckled, which was like a 747 trying to waltz. "Yes, we're all that's needed to keep this noble city safe!"
"How do I find out my powers?"
"They come to you," Morpheus said. "But to help, we have a gymnasium for you to experiment in."
They offered to take her right down, but she needed to clear her head first. She went back to the roof.
The city was big and sprawling, with a wide, glittering bay. She leaned morosely on a railing around the edge of the roof and considered her options. Clearly, she was stuck with the body and needed to sort out her powers pretty soon.
But was she really going to be stuck with that load of brainless parodies? Could she maybe move?
The city, they had told her, was called Burghal, a name she had observed with as much comprehension as she had absorbed everything else.
Suddenly a wave of pleasure from all over her skin made her double up and collapse to her knees, gasping.
What the fuck was that?
She tried to move, to stand up, and was hit from pleasure all over her body, everywhere fabric touched.
She had enough control to clutch at the concrete roof, not her breasts as they flared with sensation.
Feet landed in front of her.
She looked up at a new figure, a man wearing a piratical outfit in shades of black, and a goatee.
"Ah! A new one!" he exclaimed. "You'll make a fine addition to Mesmerer's harem with those powerful thighs!"
Finally, this seemed to be someone she could legitimately vent her anger on.
Her powerful fist landed powerfully in his groin, with powerful effect.
He doubled over even faster than she had, gasping in shock, and the unbearable sensory feedback from every inch of her skin disappeared.
She rose wrathfully, grabbed his head and slammed his face into her rising knee. It was a move she had only ever seen in movies, but managed to get right first time.
He collapsed on the roof, one hand clasped to his groin, the other one to his face.
"By bose!" he gurgled. "Do dupid bidge, do broke by bose!"
"Be grateful for small mercies, " she snapped at him, then kicked him savagely in the ribs, making him howl with pain.
Behind her, Claire heard the door to the roof bang open, and a familiar voice say "Oh no! She's ... Huh?"
Claire turned around to see Sunburst Girl, followed closely by Volcano and Zephyr, burst onto the roof.
The pneumatic (filled with air) blonde was gaping at her in confusion.
"We thought you had been captured by ..." Volcano began, before a voice behind Claire said "Dat dupid bidge broke by bose!"
"Oh no!" Sunburst Girl exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth.
Claire gaped at them, giving Zephyr enough time to rush to the injured Villain and bend over him, making solicitous noises, and for Volcano to fold his arms across his chest (no mean feat, given how much of it he had to cross) and look sternly at Claire.
"We fight fairly, and with our powers," he said virtuously, "for we are the forces of ..."
"He just tried to kidnap and rape me!" Claire burst out in disbelief.
Volcano blinked, caught off balance by the interruption. "Of course, he's a supervillain. But we are heroes, so we fight ..."
"Hello! Kidnap! Rape! Harem!"
Zephyr jumped up from lying next to the self-named Mesmerer and whirled angrily on Claire.
"It's happened to all of us!" she snapped. "That's no excuse to fight dirty!"
"Okay, you, sister, have a problem ..."
"I'm not sure you are my sister," the wind worker sniffed, before turning back to the already healing Mesmerer and helping him to his feet.
Claire threw her hands up. "Fine! I'm going to the gym!"
The gymnasium turned out to be an entire double-height floor of the building, with a padded and sprung floor. It was a long elevator ride down, and Claire immediately asked what the other floors were for.
"Living quarters, laboratories, storage..." Fern began.
"And a buffer zone for the gymnasium," The Mole broke in.
Claire was beginning to get the feeling she may get to like The Mole. Handily, his suit didn't leave any aspect of his physique concealed from a good perve.
They left her alone, cheerfully telling her to enjoy herself.
She stood in the middle of the floor and said "Now what?" into a space which didn't echo because the walls were padded.
She waited hopefully for inspiration, but none came.
With a sigh she looked at her hand, flexed it experimentally, then flung it dramatically towards one of the target butts scattered about the floor.
"Pow!" she said.
"HOLY SHIT!" she said, jerking away, stumbling and landing flat on her arse.
The target had become enveloped by a seething black mass of shadow, only visible to the eye by the shape it made in the air. There was no depth, no form but what could be seen as a negative in front of the rest of the gym.
Claire suddenly realised her hand was still extended and open, and closed it. The blackness contracted, swallowing the target and leaving the tiniest of black dots, like a dead pixel in a high definition television set before winking out when she relaxed her hand entirely.
She approached a second target cautiously, braved herself, and pushed her hand towards it.
She bit her lip and tried again, this time mentally pushing energy at the target.
Blackness engulfed it.
Keeping her hand extended and open, she gave a little squeal of delight.
She walked around the target, examining it from every angle. It undoubtedly was a writhing mass of blackness, different from all sides, and completely containing the target.
She slowly closed her hand, and the blackness shrank with her fist. She opened her hand and it expanded again.
Then she willed it gone and it dissipated, leaving a crumpled mass that had been a solid block of wood.
She almost forgot to check if she could fly, but only needed five minutes to learn control.
She left the gymnasium with purpose in her step.
She could do almost anything inside the blackness - freeze, burn, compress, twist - and could cast it almost as far as across the length of the gym.
She grabbed the first Super she saw, which was unfortunately Perky Girl but she was in no mood to be trifled with or bubbled at.
"Where's my room and where do I get a costume?" she asked without ceremony.
She repeated the question, sternly, when the girl looked like getting sidetracked into clapping her hands and squealing in delight.
There was a definite deflation effect, but Claire refused to feel sorry or relent.
"It's the second floor down," Sunburst Girl said, but she seemed incapable of not being perky, and brightened up almost immediately. "I'll show you!"
She skipped towards the lifts, and didn't come down, instead sailing along just off the floor. Claire followed, the same way but without the skip.
Sunburst Girl looked over her shoulder to say something, saw Claire hovering just off the floor and squealed with delight, clapping her hands.
"You found your powers! Have you picked a name yet?"
Claire had been giving some consideration to just that, but needed some time alone.
"Not yet," she said unwisely.
"Ooh! What are your powers? I'll help you decide!"
Claire's hand itched, but she forced herself to just say "Thank you, but I need some time to myself. My name is going to be important, it needs to be personal."
Sunburst Girl looked disappointed, for about a picosecond. "Anyway, now you know you can fly, we can take the fun way down!"
Claire had just enough time to think "what fucking fun way down?" when Sunburst Girl dived headfirst into an empty lift shaft.
Claire was almost impressed. She tilted forward and went after her.
Her room was halfway along a corridor that held, she noticed, only rooms for the girls.
The door was wood and the room, she noticed as soon as she looked through the door, was more palatial than any suite she had ever seriously believed. She stopped in the doorway, stunned, and fortuitously managed to block Sunburst Girl from entering.
"The wardrobe helps you design a costume, it's really swell!" Claire heard behind her.
Ah, right then.
She turned around in the doorway, smiled brightly, and said "Oh thank you SO much! You've been so nice to me! Now I'm going to need some time alone with myself, get over the shock of coming here, you know how it is," and shut the door with the superblonde on the other side.
There was a full length mirror on the door to the closet. She stood and regarded herself in it.
The plain grey Lycra she was wearing revealed every detail of her physique, her nipples and, she was amused to see, her G-string.
She couldn't deny that she was fit, even without super powers, but it was the "fit" of the athletically super hot, not the hot super athlete.
Her legs were toned but not hard, her waist was a little too narrow to really contain a solid core of muscle to brace the whole body, and her shoulders and arms were the least convincing of the lot, being toned but not even very strong looking.
Maybe she should be grateful she didn't look like a walking advertisement for steroid abuse, like Volcano.
And then there were her breasts.
She sincerely wanted to find whoever was responsible for her bust, smother them to death with it and then get them cut out.
Sunburst Girl and Zephyr were in the same position and Fern was barely less unreal, but that did not make her feel in the least better.
She stared very hard at herself in the mirror and willed them to shrink.
Oh well, worth a try.
There still remained the question of a costume.
She opened the closet and walked inside. The space was a basic wooden box, not large enough to get changed in, let alone store different outfits.
Frowning, she turned around to walk out. The world changed.
She found herself standing in front of several mirrors that managed to show her all sides of herself at once.
She was naked, save for a G-string.
She tried to look around, but all she could see were the images of herself. And, now she looked, ghostly and indistinct outfits hovering in the air around her.
Ah, right then. So she would be playing paper dolls with herself.
For a start, there would be no miniskirts, no capes and definitely no plunging necklines. As she thought this, she thought she saw the outfits around her shift, and some appear to fade into the background and vanish.
She concentrated on the images of herself. How about some loose pants to start with ...
Pants appeared, but skin tight. So, she wouldn't be able to get away without looking at least slightly fetish then.
How about a catsuit, then? In patched leather. Apparently, she could only do smooth leather, and she couldn't get it up to her neck. She could get it a lot higher than her nipples, but not all the way over her cleavage, which remained stubbornly on-view through a plunging scooped neckline.
She was getting extremely irked by the restrictions.
How about a pair of combat boots, then?
No, apparently her boots had to be fetish-like as well.
She stared at herself grimly in the mirrors. Well, if she was going to look like a fetish object, she would fucking well be the Mistress, not the gimp.
She didn't manage to get rid of the heels, but she did get the leather to go halfway up her thighs. She put buckles up the front as a finishing touch.
Then, since there needed to be something more above her waist, she added a longline black overbust corset, and pulled the top in to shrink her bust measurement and bulge up the portion of her cleavage left exposed.