WARNING... This is an "Erotic" Science Fantasy story. If you are offended by commonly used sexual words and graphic descriptions of various sexual acts then stop reading this now.
There are countless Alternative Universes, ranging from ones that are almost indistinguishable from our own, to ones that are totally unrecognisable from our own. Somewhere/time in the middle of these possibilities; is a Universe where there are special people with special abilities.
On this particular version of Earth, the background radiation has produced a range of humans with strange powers. As humans everywhere, some of these people used their powers for self-interest and the accumulation of personal power. Thankfully there were also those who chose to use their special powers to help others, and protect the vast mass of normal humans against the selfish and greedy ones. These people, men and women, are known as Superheroes. They justify their existence by fighting the Supervillians.
The rules are simple If the Super heroines win, the bad guys go to jail. If the bad guys win, the Super heroine gets raped.
Angel – Winged Sex, American Eagle, and Mort - The Angel of Death.
Angela had always been a beautiful child; her mother had put her on the modelling circuit as soon as she was old enough. She was the typical American beauty, long blonde hair sparkling blue eyes and a slim body. Her mother was Mary Latimer, a former Homecoming Queen and glamour model. Mary was still a beautiful woman, although the lines in her face told of approaching age.
Mary's home was filled with trophies and ribbons and prizes; that her stunningly beautiful child had won over the years. This success was facilitated by the fact that Angela was so cute. She was a flat chested innocent little girl, and the beauty judges loved her.
Her mother was realistic enough to know that as with all child stars; she would be overtaken by younger cuter girls. This was inevitable as she grew older and her breasts developed. The child model circuit demanded cute, not sexy.
To mothers surprise however, her breasts didn't grow, nor did she reach that door to womanhood called puberty. By this time Angela was nearly eighteen, and although taller seemed to be unable to put on weight. Her mother simply changed her from being a child model, into a clothes model.
Angela graced the catwalks of Paris and Rome, moving in the circles of the rich and famous with ease. Her mother was always by her side to protect her daughter from the sexual attentions of the men, and sometimes women that admired and wanted her daughter. Although she had to admit to herself, that Angela had no interest in the sexual side of life whatsoever.
Angela was now tall and slim, and weighed next to nothing compared to her rivals in the business. Her mother who had always been her manager, refused to divulge Angela's weight. However she was becoming worried because although her daughter was six feet tall, she only weighed 60lbs.
Her mother couldn't understand it; Angela wasn't anorexic in fact she ate like a lion. Her body was slim and still flat chested, but her limbs were smooth and pleasantly rounded. She should have weighed 160lbs going by her looks alone.
The answer to this came just after her eighteenth birthday. Angela suddenly felt unwell and had taken to her room; she felt hot and was suddenly beset by her period at last. Her mother was relived, she had been thinking the worst, but thank god it was only delayed puberty.
Alone in her room Angela felt terrible, it was bad enough bleeding but she had known this was coming for years. Her girl friends had moaned about their monthlies, and called it the curse. Angela knew that she should expect the bleeding and the vaginal cramps, but she had never been told that her breasts or shoulder blades would hurt so much.
She imagined that she could feel her hormones flooding through her body, rewriting her structure from an innocent little girl into a sexual woman. Telling her mother that she wanted to be alone and rest, Angela felt the urge to strip naked and threw herself onto her bed. Her raging hormones affected her so strongly that she slipped into unconsciousness.
Unbeknownst to Angela or her mother, the hormones that were rewriting her body were not normal hormones. Angela was a dormant Super human, and her hormones were super human too. As she lay unconscious, her breasts swelled out until they became the typical breasts of the female super human. These were invariably large and firm; and seemingly ignored the force of gravity. Even her virgin pink nipples became enlarged and swollen.
This would have been surprising enough, but something even more unusual was still to come. Her shoulder blades thinned and extended dramatically. Her hair follicles on her back transmuted into long brilliant white feathers. Her back muscles writhed as they grew bigger, and her entire body became four times stronger than it had been.
The final change although unseen was the most important. Her bones became hollow whilst retaining their strength. By the morning, although a human girl had gone to bed, what woke up the next day was a veritable Angel complete with wings.
Angela thought she was laying on a pillow, and rolled onto her side to get comfortable. She sleepily stared at the two white mounds that she had been lying on. Her brain finally kicked in and she realised that these big white things weren't her pillows; they were breasts.
'What the fuck is going on?' she swore to herself, tentatively feeling these strange additions to her chest. Strangely enough although they were very large, they didn't seem to be very heavy. Her nipples were now large and very noticeable. 'Well I've always wanted big tits and now I've got them' she muttered, not displeased with the changes to her body. It wasn't until she got up to admire her new breasts in her full-length mirror, that she discovered the main surprise.
Her brain at first just couldn't accept what it was seeing. She had wings, not little fairy transparent wings, but fucking big white-feathered wings that stretched from above her head to brush the floor. She thought she was dreaming; she looked just like a fucking Angel. She carefully turned around to try and see them from the back.
Fortunately as a perk of her modelling career, she had a set of mirrors that showed her from any angle. These confirmed that she did indeed have wings; and they were beautiful. She had once seen a white swan launch itself into the air from the surface of a lake. It had spread its wings, and with powerful strokes had lifted itself into the air. She had been delighted at the sight of this water bound bird, breaking free and flying away into the sun. These were the same type of wings as that swan had.
It eventually hit her that she must be a Super human. 'Wow, who would have thought it, Angela Latimer, a Super human' she said to herself as she admired her new wings. The first thing to do was to get dressed, and go downstairs to show her mother this miracle. It only took one try to put her bra on to realise that she had a big problem.
There was no way she could wear a bra or a tee shirt, her wings got in the way. Even worse she couldn't wear her panties. Her wings started at her shoulder blades but were connected to her body from her shoulder blades right down to her hipbones. She still had a lovely trim ass, what could be seen of it, but the base of her wings grew out of the top of her butt.
'This is fucking ridiculous, I can't go out naked' she fumed. In a fit of rage she slammed her fist into the padded headboard of her bed. To her amazement her seemingly delicate fist smashed through the wood like it was made of paper, and her knuckles dented the plaster wall behind it. 'Well I'll be fucked, Super strength, goody for me,' she said quite happy until her eyes spotted something. 'Oh no tell me your fucking joking' she cried as she focused on her pubes. As her hair follicles on her back had metamorphosed into feathers, so had her pubic hair. Her pussy was now almost decent, hidden as it was behind a mass of small Downey white feathers.
She quickly checked the hair on her head, and breathed a sigh of relief when she found it unchanged. She still had long golden hair down to her shoulders. 'Phew, thank the fuck for small mercies,' she breathed. Be that as it may it didn't solve her bra and panties problem.
Angela had an extensive wardrobe, and literally hundreds of items of underwear. She found that by threading the strings of a thong through her feathered ass she could wear it reasonably normally. As for her breasts, she fell back on the fashion models friend, the sticky backed tape. This was normally used to hold some of her more daring dresses to her breasts. However she found that if she covered her nipples with it, she could stick some white feathers from her pillow onto it to match her wings.
'Wow, erotic or what?' she grinned as she surveyed the finished result. She looked hot, fucking hot, and she knew that every man who saw her would want to fuck her senseless. Angela was shocked at those thoughts; she had never been interested in sex before. Now it seemed that she was very aware of her pussy, and breasts and ass. She found that she wanted to be desired and lusted after, as the super hormones switched on her motors.