Tales of the Change: The Seductress

Story Info
Even superheroes need sex. Especially the villains.
10.7k words
4.79
7.3k
22
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Glaze72
Glaze72
3,400 Followers

~~ All characters in this book are 18 or over. ~~

== || < > || ==

There are times, Olivia Lee thought, when being a superhero is a real pain in the ass.

She surveyed the bar with a suppressed sigh. It was Friday night in Des Moines, the city was hopping, but rather than being out and about herself, trolling for a good man to keep her busy in bed all night, she was at Butcher Brewing Company, preventing the city's supervillians from ruining everyone's evening.

Pausing in the entranceway, she smoothed the fabric of her bright red dress over her golden Asian skin, the lights above the bar picking out highlights in her blue-black hair. Large breasts that sneered at the very idea of a bra peeked coyly over the swooping neckline, large nipples pressing firmly into the cloth. Four-inch heels lifted her off the ground and accentuated the gorgeous curves of her legs and hips, the hem of the dress barely serving to meet the needs of decency. Shimmering with its own internal light, the ragged edge drew the eye to her groin, the observer helpless to wonder what, if anything, lay beneath.

Not that Olivia, also known as the Seductress, cared much about decency since the Change.

To mundane eyes, the scene was one which could be found in any one of a hundred restaurants around town. Some two dozen people were seated on stools around the large, C-shaped bar, drinking and talking and watching sports on the screens which hung from the ceiling. In booths around the walls, couples and even some families sat and ate their dinners; relaxing before going home, or beginning the night with a good meal before going out for a movie or a party.

But to Olivia's finely honed sexual senses, there was a discord in the air. A sour note in the song of happiness and desire. She stepped up to the bar, ignoring the stares her body drew. Raising a hand, she caught the bartender's attention.

"Olivia, my love!" A well-built young man, only a few years older than Olivia, swooped to take her order. "Are you at last here to answer my prayers and make me your love-slave? Say, yes, my little Carnalita, and I will be yours forever!"

She laughed, rushing blood making her skin appear even darker. Ray had known her before the Change, and treated her with the same teasing affection that he had when she was plain Olivia Lee, and an adventure had been going to Chicago for a long weekend.

"Not likely, when you have a wife and a baby, you scoundrel," she said teasingly. "And don't tell me that Alysha isn't taking care of you. You can't lie to me about something like that." She grinned as she caught the swell of pride in his face. "Eighteen times in the last seven days," she said admiringly. "You are serving your wife well."

"What can I say?" he replied, his arms cast out wide. "Alysha says she is making up for the time we lost right before and after the baby was born. And who am I to complain when a lovely woman drags me into bed two and three times a day? If I didn't know better, I would say that you had something to do with it."

"Not me," she replied, picking up the beer list. "I only help those who need it. And prevent people from doing harm. But this town has been...blessed. That is the only way I can describe it. But I am not going to complain."

"Neither will I," said Ray, waggling his eyebrows outrageously. "What can I get you?"

She giggled as she came across a new name on the microbrew list. "Chateau Libideau? Is Dan serious?"

Ray grinned. "As serious as he ever is. Try it. You'll like it."

"All right. One of those, and an answer to a question."

"You got it."

"Have you seen anything strange around here tonight? I was on my way to another spot when I got a weird vibe from here. It didn't feel...right."

Ray drew the beer and set it out for her, shaking his head as she offered to pay. "On the house. No, I haven't noticed anything. But that doesn't mean there isn't. You know how it is. The good always draws the bad, trying to spoil things."

She nodded pensively. Sipping her drink, a dark beer with a sweet, nutty flavor, she slowly walked around the bar, senses open, trying to find the source of her uneasiness.

Ah. There.

At the corner of the bar, a young man and woman sat. Unmarried, from the lack of a ring on her finger. Not even boyfriend and girlfriend, her insight told her. Not yet. Two people who liked each other, were attracted to each other, but were still trying to get to know each other before they took the next step.

Softly she reached out with her empathy, sifting through the strands of thought.

Jimmy couldn't believe that he was sitting with Rose Gardner. He had been wanting to ask her out for weeks, and when he finally mustered the courage, he was stunned when she said yes.

He looked deep into her blue eyes, so intelligent and full of life. Some people at the firm might say that she wasn't beautiful, but he didn't care. She was sweet and warm and caring, and God knew that he was no prize, not with his stutter and his mother, never happy with anything he did.

Jimmy reached out a careful hand and wrapped it around Rose's fingers. Her face lit with a soft glow.

Yes, Olivia thought. That's it, boy. You won't even need my he...

Suddenly another person was between them, breaking their grip. Tall and dark-haired, vapidly good-looking, he elbowed his way to the woman's side, shoving Jimmy's stool to one side with one hip.

"Eh- Excuse me..." Jimmy said.

"You're excused," the man sneered, not even glancing back at him. "Hey, doll. Is this guy boring you? Why don't you come outside with me instead? I've got my 'vette here, and we can go for a drive, maybe have some fun afterward."

Rose looked up into his face, eyes shining as the Cockblocker's mind-powers began to take hold.

"Th-Th-The lady's with me," Jimmy tried to interject.

"Beat it, mushmouth. Or get beaten," the Cockblocker snarled, and Jimmy hung his head.

Olivia's lips tightened as she took in the scene. In her mind's eye, she could see the tangled web of fate unfolding. After yet another failure, Jimmy would go home, become more and more withdrawn over the coming months and years, and finally die alone, unloved and unmourned. Rose would have her one night of adventure, but she would pay a terrible price..

Luckily for them both, she was here.

"I wouldn't do it, Rose," she said boldly, stepping to the young woman's side. "The last girl to sleep with this asshat came away with three different kinds of the clap."

She recoiled in disgust, the spell shattered. "The clap?"

"Yep," Olivia replied, a grin like the edge of a knife curling her lips as she met the Cockblocker's eyes, daring him to raise the stakes. "Do you have any idea what that can do to your sweet little vag?" she asked, hands running suggestively down the flat curves of her stomach towards her crotch. Rose gagged and pulled away from the younger man, her face twisted in disgust.

Olivia's eyes were hard as she met the Cockblocker's gaze.

"Go. And don't come back. This place is under my protection. In fact," she continued, "if I find out you've been pulling this kind of shit anywhere in my city, you'll never have to worry about your dick again."

He opened his mouth, then shut it. The Change had given Olivia a cheerful capacity for violence that made most evildoers think twice before challenging her. Wilting, he turned and walked out of the bar.

"Th-Th-Thank you," Jimmy stuttered.

"Don't mention it," she replied. She was turning to go when Rose's hand caught her arm.

"I know you!" she said. "I've seen you on the news! You're the Seductress, aren't you?" Her eyes were shining. "I saw you when you foiled the Douchebro when he tried to frame those kids for rape."

Despite herself, Olivia scowled at the memory of the villain who had tried to get an entire youth soccer team sent to jail, and Rose pulled back, afraid. She tried to gentle her expression. It wasn't easy, when you had the body of a horny angel and a mind that could make even a nun pull away from society's strictures.

Actually, nuns were usually the easiest, as the orgy at the convent last month could attest.

And yes, dammit, she had apologized for that.

"Thanks," she said. "I got lucky that the Douchebro revealed his plans to the Harpy, and she was dumb enough to record it and careless enough to leave her cell out where I could find it."

After seducing her guards. Both of them. At the same time.

That had been a good night, and she squeezed her thighs together in happy memory, passion rising like a tide within her.

"Whoa, we're late," Jimmy said. "The m-m-movie starts in ten minutes. We better g-g-go." He nodded politely at Olivia. She smiled at them and took their hands.

"Just one word of advice," she said, smiling at them.

"Yes?" Jimmy asked, frowning. Not scared, but maybe just a little apprehensive?

She took their hands, one in each of hers. She traced a blessing on their fingers as her mind gently wove into theirs. Not compelling, but simply removing the scars of old hurts and the restrictions of outmoded morality. She leaned close, whispering.

"No one says 'foiled' anymore, Rose. Not unless they have a curly mustache and wear a cape. Try to remember."

Grinning, she let them go, savoring their trailing laughter as they walked out into the October evening.

One down.

Oh, it felt so good to help people. Almost as good as sex. She remembered the time before the Change, when she had been alone and helpless, her need to aid those who needed it unfulfilled.

And I am going to need to be filled myself soon, she thought wickedly. Her pulse beat in her thighs, throbbing. The lust within her, the blessed ruttiness of her gift, never far from the surface, was waking.

Now that she had announced herself, most of the men, and not a few women, were watching her. Wanting her. The thought drove her desire higher, and her nipples peaked, tight, sensitive nubs tenting the thin cloth of her dress as she walked towards the next pool of instability. Three couples sat there.

No. Two couples, a predator, and a victim.

She sat on his lap, the curve of her hip subtly rubbing against his groin. Sapphire hair stood up in wayward spikes, but her lips were as black as her eyes. Piercings studded her eyebrows, lip, and nostril, and her t-shirt was strategically ripped to show off the ripe curves of her apple-plump breasts.

His cock a throbbing bar of steel in his pants, Keith could barely keep from shouting his joy to the entire bar. Billy had Andrea, and Clint had Jennifer. But now he had someone, too. A casual hello, a couple of drinks, and she was crawling all over him. He could hardly wait until he could take her back to his apartment and tear her clothes off...

A voice from behind him, sadly amused. "Hello, Blue."

The girl spun in the boy's lap, lips folded back, teeth bared. "This has nothing to do with you, Seductress. Get lost."

"Whatever happens in this town has something to do with me. I am its appointed sexual guardian." She threw a sympathetic look at the boy. "Sorry, kid. You don't know who you are cuddling with, do you? That is Blue Balls right there. And no matter what she has told you, you are never going to see those sweet little titties or tap her fine, fine ass.

"She'll lead you along, as long as you have money in your pocket. And when you're stone broke she'll leave you hanging, with nothing but Rosie Palm and her five fingers to keep you company."

She leaned close and lowered her voice. "And she'll never call you back. She thrives on loneliness, rejection, and pain."

She looked at Blue and her voice was cold. "Leave."

Quick as thought, Blue Balls leaped off of Keith's lap. Growling in hate, she faked an elbow at her ribs, then threw a punch at her head, the rings on her fingers wickedly sharp, the edges coated with something green and sickly.

Poison!

She reacted instinctively, the gifts of the Change driving her. Pivoting on one high heel, she threw herself out of the path of the punch. Whirling in place, her free leg came high, driving into Blue's gut with crushing force. Blue folded around it, her breath leaving her in a harsh gasp. She crumpled to the floor, chest heaving erratically as she fought to regain her breath.

Olivia knelt at her side. Before Blue could stop her, she had stripped the rings from her fingers and folded them in a napkin, dropping them in her purse. From the same object she pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them on Blue's wrists.

"Not the way I imagined putting handcuffs on you, Chloe," she said sadly. "Why can't you stop? Quit cock-teasing dumb kids and do something productive with your powers."

"I am what the Change made me, Olivia," Blue responded bitterly, eyes venomous. "Why don't you give up the good-little-girl act and admit you're doing the same thing we are? Inflicting your will on others. You're no different than me."

Olivia pursed her lips, shaking her head. Leading Blue Balls by the elbow, the took her to the door to meet the police, who had been called as soon as Blue had thrown the first punch.

"We'll hold her for a night, Seductress," said the grizzled sergeant. "But we probably won't be able to keep her under wraps for long."

"Take a look at these," said Olivia, handing over the rings, still wrapped in the napkin. "If my suspicions are right, the poison on the edges will allow you to charge her for assault with a deadly weapon. That'll slow her down."

The cops left, pulling a cursing Chloe after her. The kids at the table had left in the confusion.

She wandered back to the bar, sipping on her beer, which had grown lukewarm during the confrontations with the Cockblocker and Blue. She cast her senses throughout the restaurant and sighed with relief. All that she could sense now was the happy tension of a Friday-night bar, filled with happy people who were anticipating what the evening would bring.

Wait.

Her gaze turned to a lonely booth at the back of the restaurant. A desolate shape sat in a pool of shadow, his head bent, staring at nothing.

Him! He dares come here?

She didn't even remember moving towards the dark figure. It was only when her right wrist was caught in a vise-like grip, stopping her with a jerk, that her headlong lunge was arrested.

"Let me go, Ray," she snapped, teeth clenched.

"No, Olivia," he said calmly. "He doesn't bother anyone here. I'll thank you to extend the same consideration to him."

"You know what he is," she said, face angry.

"No. I know what happened to him. The same thing that happened to you. There's no harm in him. He comes in every once in a while, and I just let him be. He can't help what he is. And he has never," he said, voice hard, "done anything to hurt anyone. Not on purpose. Not like those two pieces of garbage you just kicked out of here."

She nodded, mouth working as if she tasted something rancid.

"Go to him, Olivia," Ray said, voice soft. "Talk to him. Who knows, maybe you can help him. No one else can."

She took a deep breath, a little ashamed of how she had lost control, of her visceral reaction. She should be calmer, more in control.

"All right. Get me another beer."

*****

She slid into the booth opposite him, her senses tingling a warning. Danger. Danger. Danger.

"Eddie," she said quietly. Not quite a greeting. She sipped her beer.

"Seductress," he returned, not raising his eyes. "Saw what you did with those two earlier. Well done."

He could have been anyone. His very ordinariness was his camouflage. A man of a little more than middle height, a little less than middle weight, ordinary brown hair speckled with thin strands of gray, he could have been anywhere between an old thirty and a well-preserved fifty-five. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt over a white t-shirt, his long, thin fingers cradling a glass of pale beer, a half-eaten plate of nachos shoved to the side.

His eyes were the only beautiful thing about him. Dark brown and deep-set, they were the color of fertile earth after a heavy rain.

Strange, she thought with unexpected sympathy, that I am reminded of fertility when I sit by him.

"Tell me," he said, his voice dreary and hopeless, "what did you do before the Change?"

"What?"

"It's a simple question," he said, the faintest thread of sardonic humor in voice. "What did you do? What was your life like?"

Her hands clenched unwillingly as she thought back to that time. Even the idea of who she had been was distasteful to her.

"I worked for an employment agency. In the IT department. I didn't like it much. I went to work. I came home. I watched TV or read a book.

"And the next day I started the whole damn thing over again. Over and over and over. A treadmill that I could only get off by dying."

"And the night of the Change itself?" A spark of interest had lit his previously lifeless eyes.

God, that night! When the entire world had changed. Governments had fallen and the globe had lurched from crisis to crisis, until it finally had come to grips with the fact that one in every ten thousand human beings had Changed, given impossible physical and mental gifts. Riots had killed thousands in Africa, South America, the Middle East and India. Even in America, doomsday cults had sprung up like toadstools in a rainy spring, declaring that the Changed were a sign of the end-times, and unscrupulous fear-mongers had whipped their followers into a frenzy, trying to overthrow the government.

She swallowed, remembering the attempted coup by Senator Darsden and General Hoeckel. For three terrible weeks, it looked as if the United States itself would fall.

Somehow, things had stabilized, and then Dr. Adrienne Chernovsky announced she had isolated the blood mutation that caused the Change, which calmed the hysteria. Now people knew the cause.

Though what had caused the mutation to emerge, and what the long-term repercussions would be, were questions that were still unanswered.

She blinked, and focused on the present.

"That night. It was Friday. About ten o'clock."

"Ten oh two," he corrected.

"Whatever. I had a bad week at work, and was relaxing in my apartment. I had changed into my pajamas and a big fluffy robe, and was eating ice cream straight from the container and drinking a glass of wine. And I was reading a trashy romance novel," she smiled. "Danielle Steele."

"And then it happened."

She nodded. "It was so...odd," she said, unable to describe an experience which had left thousands of Changed people fumbling for the right words. "I seemed to be pulled out of myself. The universe itself was asking me a question. If I could do whatever I wanted with the rest of my life, what would I do?

"Well, I was a little drunk, and a lot horny. So my answer was that I would help the entire world get laid."

For a moment it almost seemed that Eddie would smile. "And then?"

"Then I went to bed. I was almost in a trance. I suppose I felt the way a caterpillar feels when it is time to crawl into a cocoon and become a butterfly."

She could still remember the sensations of that eternal night. How many times had she woken in her cold, narrow bed, sweaty and aching with need? How many times had she brought herself to orgasm, screaming as pleasure swept over her time and time again, her belly boiling with lust? When her fingers had cramped, she had turned to her dildo, her vibrator, and finally, desperate and unfulfilled, the bedpost itself, grinding her pubis against the sweat-slicked wood until she came one last time, collapsing on the floor, pulling her comforter over her before she passed out.

Glaze72
Glaze72
3,400 Followers