Paladin
Everyone has their favorite superhero or heroine. When they are boys and girls, they tend to pick an idol they want to be like. When they grow up, they often find themselves fixating on the ones they would like to fuck instead.
Paladin was the object of much of this.
She had been an archeology student on a dig in the Spanish mountains when she uncovered Durendal, the legendary holy sword of Huon of the Horn. Transformed by its holy power, she was blessed with the strength of a hundred knights, armoured with the mantle of the Archangel Gabriel to turn aside all earthly weapons, gifted by the fairy King Oberon with immunity to magic. Armed with a sword that could cut through stone and steel as if it were warm butter, and the wings of an Archangel to fly, she was a vision of purity that sailed above a world too base for her perfection.
She had been an athletic girl, a blonde vision of a coed whose presence is short shorts and a halter top barely containing her breasts did much to make the whole dig team motivated to get up to work every day, even if her persistent rebuff of every attempt to get into those delightful little pants failed utterly against a soul that was even then too pure for this world.
The power of the blade Durendal magnified all that she was. Her already amazing clean cut girl next door beauty became beyond the best CGI artificial perfection. Her fit and toned body became like that of a Valkyrie, that of a born and trained warrior. Her naturally ample female assets were likewise magnified to comic book proportions.
To say that her red crossed white crusader mantle did little to hide her curves was true. The chain mail she had originally worn had been slowly blasted away, to be replaced with mail forged of holy light as the Archangels rewarded her purity with greater protection than any enchanted steel.
The loving telephoto lenses of her fans and enemies agreed that one thing this glowing holy mail was, was almost transparent. Her body was clad in glowing gold chain mail that you could almost see through, or totally see through with a computer filter. Only the damned crusader robe hid the tips of those amazing breasts and the soft valley of those amazing hips from view.
She was the go to heroine in the spank banks of most prisons, half of which she had filled.
The problem of sex trafficking was getting bad, and while Paladin had joined the crusade to stop women from the developing world being smuggled into the USA as enslaved sex workers, she uncovered other rings serving more rarified customers who practiced white slavery to deliver young coeds to serve rich unsavory CEOs in China, Imam's and Princes throughout the Middle East, and even Russian Oligarchs. All of these were beyond the reach of any law.
Paladin was not the law of man. She was the avenging wrath of God.
She had spent almost a year recovering the girls, somehow magically charmed into wanting to serve sexually, to be the playthings and even prostitutes of their new owners. Nothing angered Paladin more than seeing good and innocent girls, even strong professional women robbed of their will and their core morality to become nothing more than eager, no DEDICATED sexual playthings.
They all told versions of the same tale. They had found a new magic game on their phone, free to play. It required access to their phone location and photo data, but none of them thought that was odd.
Soon to unlock the higher levels of the game, they had to take naked selfies. Just take them, not send them. Certain select girls then unlocked new levels of the game that included summoning spells. They would look at the magic circles and chant the spells, and when their phone microphone accepted they chanted the spells then their character would cast the spell and they would win the prize.
Those that made it all the way through and defeated the final boss, Magic Man, were kidnapped the next day.
Paladin knew how magic worked, she had been taught how to fight off magical charms and illusions by Oberon, the Fairy King himself. She was immune to any lesser magic. She was the sword of god's wrath, the wielder of Durandal. She would find the common link between all these things, and find the Magic Man himself.
Each of the girls recalled their first meeting with him, how he had rewarded them for finding him, as if they were not kidnapped and dropped at his feet! He claimed that they had won their way to him by their own efforts and as a reward, he would become their pimp, and their first customer.
He simply took out money and laid it before them, and they found themselves eager to perform sexual acts many of them did not even know the name of, let alone ever wanted to perform.
Whatever his magic was, only Paladin was strong enough to withstand it. She would seek him out, and bring him in.
She teamed up with Detective Chastity Blake, NYPD when too many of the kidnappings came into airports whose only common location was New York City.
His tracks were well hidden, but Detective Chastity Blake headed NYPD's computer crime division, and she located what ISP was tracking the victims phones. When the NYPD tried to serve the warrants, they were met with overwhelming force.
The sight of police cars dissolving under gatling gun fire as the concealed weapon posts rose from fake dumpsters and power company utility boxes caught SWAT by surprise. The only reason that the helicopter did not drop its tactical team in flames rather than on the roof was that Paladin rose in the sky like a phoenix and struck down the two Stinger surface to air missiles with two strokes of her sword.
Falling like an avenging angel, she ignored the fire of the manjack automated machine guns that hosed her like water guns for all the good it did them, as Paladin carved a path through the automated defenses,and into the living guards.
The guards themselves did not even consider surrendering. They fought on like religious fanatics, not like zombies, they retained individual initiative and training, but all wanted only one thing, to die before letting anyone reach Magic Man.
Paladin did not grant their request. She struck with fist and flat of blade, breaking limbs and stunning but killing no one. Behind her the NYPD tac team cuffed the unconscious, and followed their heroine into the Magic Man's lair.
Doors the strength of bank vaults failed to stop her. Poison gas attacks failed to stop her longer than it took to drag SWAT back to the roof for medical evac. The claymore mines triggered when she burst through the door only served to make her golden semi transparent mail glow brighter, offering hints of the pale perfection underneath.
