This is a fun one. I always wondered why you never hear of a mutant with sexual powers. I mean the comics skirt the edge, but never quite reach the pinnacle. So, I wrote one.
Warning, some non-consent is present.
Just to be clear, there are no real mutants, or evolved, or gifted or whatever. This story is made up out of whole cloth. All the participants are over eighteen in the fake world I created. And none of them are real people, nor modelled after real people. This is a story, I made it up.
One thing I ask is that people vote. I really want to get better as a writer and so I post my stories. If you decide to vote and don't give me a five, I'd like to know why. If you think it is a five, I really want to know why. While "you suck" and "you rock" are comments, they don't tell me how to get better or what was good, so a quick comment, a sentence or two, would be appreciated. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
There were a lot of terms being thrown around for people like me, Evo, Mutant, Gifted, Freak, I'd heard them all and even used them myself, you know, to fit in with the normals. I mean, it isn't like we had a choice and some of us are even helping the normals by being this country's super squads. Most major cities had at least one of us as a costumed hero, chasing the bad guys. Not my style. Probably because I'm a bad guy.
I didn't start as some big super-villain, I wasn't out to rule the world. I just enjoyed money. And yeah, I used what I can do to get it. I don't really think of it as any different than say a banker, or an investment broker. They are gifted in certain ways and they go out and use their gifts, their brains, to make money. I have a gift and I use it to make money, it really is the same thing.
See, now you're probably getting curious, what can this guy do. Well, it is really not that big a deal, but with a touch, I can bring a person to the brink of orgasm. With a longer touch, I can make them orgasm. That is actually how I caught, married and accidentally killed my first rich wife. Yes, killed. I went too far. I found out I could make her cum until she passed out, and she always woke up wanting more, well, until the time she died. But she'd had me as a low priority in her will, so, I didn't get a lot.
The next one was different. Yes, the next one, I married again, for money. She was rich, passably attractive and hadn't ever had an orgasm. I learned I could use my ability to excite without an orgasm. I stretched my power and learned my limits. I learned hers too. It didn't take long for her to need her orgasms and start doing anything I wanted in order to get them. Her daughter didn't like me at first, but I changed her mind the same way. She became my plaything and I learned the true power I had over others. I drove the daughter to the state mental ward and my wife, well, her heart wasn't strong enough for the love of a good man. This time, I got the money, three quarters of a billion dollars. Eve's friends started coming by then, concerned about her widow, and her daughter Simone.
That's about the time White Dove emerged in our town. We were a small city and we had no heroes until White Dove. Like everyone else, I was enamored of her from the start. She was a Native American, but tall and stately. Her powers were strength and flight. And she was gorgeous to look at. She wore a skimpy white one piece leather outfit that covered her assets, knee high boots and leather bands on her forearms with a small leather choker, and a half face mask that left her sable hair free.
She started right out with saving and rescuing and wasting our tax dollars. We had police and fire departments for those things. No one was reducing those budgets, but they didn't have to work as hard. So, I headed up a group of concerned citizens, fine upstanding men and women of the community, in an effort to reduce those budgets and put that money where it would do more good, which meant my coffers. I had a legit construction company now, so I lobbied for giving it some business.
I also started creating my own costume. My skinny frame was encased in tights from head to toe with a velcro fly. I originally thought about black, but changed my mind and went with a dark red with blue highlights, like veins running across the surface of the stretchy material. I added a pair of bags with straps crossing my body, and one of those civil war style soldier hats, but in the matching colors, and a mask over my eyes. I called myself Gasm.
I mentioned I like money, oh so very much. So much so, that I don't like to buy anything. For my first gig, I went to a jewelry store and gasmed the dude behind the counter into unconsciousness. When the other clerk came out from the back, I gasmed her until she was almost drooling, then I took her. The slut in her came out then and I had her in every hole. Of course, I wore a rubber and tucked them into a special pocket when done and left her naked and spread eagle with a sign I made her write saying "Fuck me!" that barely covered her tits. I took everything. I didn't take it to give it up either. I took it and kept it, hoarded it. It represented money. I had money to spend, this was money to keep.
It took three heists before Dove arrived. The two men were passed out on the floor, their pants soaked with their excitement and the smell of sperm in the air. I was leaning on the counter at her arrival. She entered and, or course, did the whole hero spiel.
"It's over, villain," she said, "Give up and you won't be hurt." Then she strode into the store and took in the two unconscious clerks.
"Oh they're okay, just having a nap," I said with a smile and began to push the manifestation of my power I'd discovered with my lovely step daughter, distance attraction. It was a kind of call to the sexual beast inside a person, moving it to the surface. It was no more than a distraction until I touched. But I pouted and continued, "And why don't you call me by my name? You know what it means, right? Say it for me and maybe I'll just give up, Gasm, try it, Gasm." I pushed with each repetition of my name and saw her shake her head.
"You're tricks won't work on me, Gasm," she said as she moved forward slowly. She wasn't super fast or super tough or any of those other things. So she was cautious.
"You know, how would you like to fly me to my hideout where I keep all the rest of the stuff I've taken?" I asked. "I have a place there just for us. Golden shackles, er bracelets, for you on a nice bed where I can take care of the little problem you are having."
She'd been distracted by my patter and I touched her arm. Her orgasm hit her hard and she went to her knees. "What did you do to me?" she said and I helped her rise as I pushed her excitement. Her nipples were erect now and her crotch was damp.
"Are you okay, baby?" I asked as I sat her in the chair. "You seem a little over excited." I let her excitement hover just short of orgasm and each time she pushed it down, I pumped it up, just a bit more. "Now, lift me in your arms and fly me home." she lifted me and I kissed her, a light pressing of my lips to hers, "I like you too. You are so sexy, strong, hot and reactive. Fly south dear."
She walked us out of the store and we were airborne. I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed her below the ear. She moaned and dipped a little. "Where are we going?" she asked.
"You may call me lover now," I said.
"I... will not," she said and groaned loud as I pushed her right up to the line. She dipped down and landed, not quite gracefully. "Can't... concentrate."
"You will call me lover now," I said.
