Chapter 1: The Mormon Church of the Superhero World
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mind Control, TransGender, Humor,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Mormon Church of the Superhero World - The Y-Men are a group of superheroes, the likes of which you probably haven't seen before. Join them in the most fearsome struggle of their careers.
Frank Evans belched, then answered the ringing phone beside the bed. "Yo?"
"Hello? I'm trying to reach a Mr Evans, a Mr Frank Evans."
"Yeah, that's me. Whatcha want?"
"Mr Evans, I am Hayfever Lad. I represent the Judgemental League of America, the JLA. I understand that you are the alter ego of Meteor Man, and I was wondering if you might be interested in a membership in our organization. You've probably read in the papers about the slaughter and mayhem that the Bobbitt Club has been causing all major righteous superhero alliances lately. The JLA has not been immune to these losses, so we are currently conducting a membership drive. Do you think you might have the metal and resolve to lend your super-gifts to the forces of light in their eternal battle against the villainous forces of evil?"
"Hayfever Lad? Didn't you used to be that little buttscratch sidekick of Bend Me Over and Anally Probe Me Man?"
"Sir, I really don't think that's appropriate langu-- "
"Yeah, I'd be thrilled to join your little faggot organization. But you need to be aware of what it is you're gettin'. Yeah, I'm Meatier Man, but not like the little hot rock that flies through the sky and comes from space. I'm Meatier Man, with a prick the length and diameter of a forearm, and I make women spread their legs and beg. How many superheroines do you have in your little organization? 'Cause I want you to know that not a one of them is safe. Except, of course, the ugly ones. I won't bother them."
"I-- I think there has been some type of misunderstanding, sir. I'm sorry to have bothered you."
"Oh, no bother. Really." The line went dead, and Frank hung up. "Faggot."
The Crimson Blush rolled over and stretched. "Who was that, baby?"
"Wrong number. Really, REALLY wrong number."
"Oh, goooood," she smiled, reaching her arms up and around Frank's sholders and pulling him down to her. "Come back to bed, then, and DO me!"
Two hours later, Frank lay in bed with the temporarilly sated Crimson Blush, snuggling. God, he hated snuggling.
He was considering invoking his tool on last night's bed partner and having another go at her -- anything to get out of "the snuggles" -- when there was a knock at the apartment door. Saved.
Leaving her lightly dozing, he walked to the front door and opened it to reveal a large muscular man in a body stocking that was far too red for any self-respecting hetero male to wear. Over his heart, about the size of an Izod, was a white maple leaf. Beside and behind him was a snivelling toad of a man.
"Why, it's Captain Canada," Frank declared, "And his trusty sidekick Buttplug."
"How is everyone's favorite Canuck?"
"Not so good. We have a problem."
"Something that a six-pack and a good set of studded tires won't fix?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Mmmm. Serious, then. Come in."
It seemed that someone had stolen Commander Quasar's testicles, the source of his powers. There was no doubt that the Bobbitt Club was behind this, and it showed the Club's growing arrogance and lack of restraint.
"Do you have a plan for retrieving the testicles?"
"That's why we're here, Meaty. We need your help."
"Why are-- " a soft voice came from the bedroom door and the three male heads turned to see the beautiful woman wrapped in a robe, standing there, "Why are the testicles so important?"
"A question only a woman would ask!" Buttplug rolled his eyes.
"Commander Quasar is currently the only thing standing between the world and the expansion of the Aurora Incident," Meaty explained.
"What is the Aurora Incident?"
Meatier Man sighed and shook his head.
"She may not have heard," Captain Canada spoke up. "We HAVE been keeping it under wraps so that noone takes advantage of it." He turned to the pretty woman. "There was a minor superhero about three years ago -- Aurora Lad. Pretty light shows, dazzle effects on his opponents, et cetera. All nickel and dime stuff. Then one night he visited a disco in New York City."
"Those things still exist?!"
"A few, underground. For the desperate junkies that still need that 70 beat a minute fix. Anyway, Aurora Lad was dancing away, doing his Travolta moves, to a disco light show, having a hell of a time, when he backed into an open electrical outlet.
"In a single moment, he drained the entire Canadian power grid, and his superpowers increased a million-fold. He de-atomized, but his powers continued to expand on their own. Commander Quasar was able to contain them with a selective super-gravitational field."
"But if he hadn't, we'd have what?" she asked. "Beautiful light shows every night?"
"Sure," Buttplug muttered, "Enjoy the light show while it devours the ozone layer."
"He's right," Captain Canada said. "It might take days, maybe weeks, certainly no more than a year. And... no more ozone layer."
"Yep. Quasar's gonads are all that stand between us and doom!"
"I see," she said. "Why was the JLA never informed?"
Meaty's mind flashed back to this morning's phone call, and he knew a moment of horror. No... he had seduced this superheroine yesterday, but she couldn't possibly be a JLA member. Could she? "What... would be the point of telling the JLA?" he tested.
"Well, we ARE the final bastion of light, the defender of those in need, the single force standing between-- "
"Oh, Christ!" Meaty cursed.
"Oh Christ, what?" the woman asked, irked.
"I just had sex with one of those JLA fanatics!"
"We are NOT fanatics!"
"Yeah, right. I CAN'T believe I DID that!"
"It's all right," Captain Canada tried to calm him. "Sometimes you just can't spot them. The most insidious thing is that they LOOK JUST LIKE US! You just didn't know."
"I should have checked!"
"And what is WRONG with the JLA?!"
"Ha!" Buttplug guffawed.
"Oh, nothing at all," Captain Canada rolled his eyes. "If you don't mind being one of the stormlords enforcing the will of the Christian puritanical hardcore on the rest of the population of the EARTH!"
"You'll have to forgive the Captain," Meaty said. "He swallows conspiracy theories the way some people eat carbohydrates. For the rest of us, you're just a bunch of soul-sucking pig-fuckers, to paraphrase a movie."
"I... see," she said stiffly, reaching up to hold the neckline of her robe closed. "And you 'gentlemen' are part of which more 'enlightened' organization, may I ask?"
"We're part of the Y-Men!" Buttplug answered.
"Yeah," Meaty smiled. "Our first thought was to call ourselves the KS-Men, 'cause that's the name that everyone thinks is cool at first. But that name was already taken."
"Good thing, too!" Buttplug put in.
"Yeah! We got to thinking. We're men! We're proud! PROUD of our Y chromosomes! Why not advertise? We should be the Y-Men!"
"Yeeeaah!" Buttplug agreed.
"And so a superhero organization was born!" Captain Canada stood up from the sofa reverentially. He reached upward toward the sky. " We don't stand for the government secret organizations! We don't stand for the puritanical bigots! We don't stand for the villainous megalomaniacs! No!"
"Amen, brother," Buttplug amenned. "Who DO we stand for?!"
"We stand for the regular joe! For the couch spud that considers the thumb exercise he gets surfing with the remote to be his aerobics! For the immortal citizen that derives his longevity from potato chip preservatives!"
"I... see," the woman said distastefully, having indeed seen much more of these men's thinking than she really cared to.
"Yeah," Meaty continued. "We aren't part of no faggot organization. The KS-Men are a bunch of pussies. Hell, the head of the KS-Men, that President Savior, is a bald-headed crippled phallic symbol himself. Not us! We're MEN!"
"That sleep with those distasteful JLA members," she reminded him.
"Rrrnghmmphthls," Meaty mumbled.
"There IS that, I guess," Captain Canada said, spreading his hands apologetically.
"Which brings up a question that has been eating at me since I stepped out of bed. Why the hell DID I ever go to bed with the likes of you?"
Meatier Man stared at the floor and smiled. "I flexed my pud," he muttered.
He looked up at his bed partner. "I flexed my pud muscle. And you became... all WOMAN for me, baby."
"Oh, get REAL! That's insane! Noone can do that!"
Meaty lightly rubbed his crotch. "Spread and beg, baby," he muttered.
"You're... just... Oh!... MY!... I'll be right back!" She scurried back into the bedroom.
Meaty turned to the Captain. "If I don't miss my guess, you have the seed of a plan started to retrieve Commander Quasar's... valuables."
"You DO have a plan, don't you?"
"And? What is it?"
"Captain Canada, I sense that there's something that you're not telling me."
"Well... you know how we were just explaining to your lady friend all about the sins of the JLA?"
"Yeah..." Meaty answered, suspicious of where this was going.
"Well... my plan... involves... sort of an... alliance-- "
"Between us and-- "
"Why?! Why do you DO these things to me?!"
"Meaty, it's really the only way."
"Whooo-eee! Nipples! Nipples! Nipples!" Buttplug jabbed an index finger at the bedroom doorway.
The Crimson Blush was standing in the doorway in four inch black heels, crimson garter belt and hose, a crimson g-string worn on the outside of the garter belt, and... nothing else. Her dark areolas were perked up a half inch. Her dark hair hung loose at her shoulders, and a smile danced at her mouth and in her eyes.
"I... uhm... found this in a drawer. I hope you boys... don't mind." She toyed with a strand of hair, wrapping it around her index finger.
Meaty stood and unsnapped his pajama bottoms, letting them fall to the floor.
"Ohgod!" the Crimson Blush whimpered at his erection.
"You're still a bit overdressed," Meaty said as he sat back on the couch.
"Oh, YEAH!" she sighed as she stuck her thumbs in the waist of her g-string and started to pull it down. Then she halted, wriggled around so her ass faced her audience, then bent at the waist as she pulled them down. She stood and slowly turned around.
"Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!" Buttplug pointed.
"Well, wiggle that pretty little ass over here," Meaty told her, "And bury my cock in your pelvis."
"Baby! YES!" She scurried over to him.
"No, no. Turn around, with your back to me and straddle my legs. That way I can grope your boobs while you bounce on me."
Once his femme-toy got her rhythm bouncing on him, Meaty turned back to Captain Canada. "So you have some crazy scheme that requires partnership with the JLA? Why?"
"Well, the core of the plan hinges on the fact that the entire Bobbitt Club is female, and you have a... way... with females." He gestured towards the bouncing, mewling Crimson Blush.
"Okay, I'm with you so far. But why do we need the JLA?"
"The Bobbitt Club has some dangerous members, Meaty. That's why they've gotten as far as they have.
"There's the Ovulator. She instills one mother of a nesting instinct in her victim -- pun intended -- and if she pushes hard enough, she induces pregnancy in the poor bastard.
"There's the Effeminator. She forces female sexual characteristics on her victims, and if she pushes hard enough, turns them entirely into women.
"There's the Detesticulator. She shrinks gonads to peas, and if she pushes hard enough, pphfft! they're gone altogether.
"They're all led by Seargant Dyke, the meanest, toughest, butch lesbian that ever was.
"They're a nasty, dangerous bunch, these women, to say the least. We're depending on you being able to exert your power over not one, but four of them. If any of them successfully use their powers on you, you could be compromised or even taken out of action. We use the JLA as fodder to keep them distracted until you get your shot at them."
Meaty thought about that as the Crimson Blush bounced on him, an inane grin on her face. "So you're saying we use them as disposable decoys."
"If you don't want to beat around the bush, you could put it like that, yeah."
"I like that. What do you think, baby. What if we use your friends as expendible targets while we attack the Bobbitt Club?"
"Oh! Just FUCK me, baby! FUCK ME!"
"I LIKE it! This plan is okay! Pull your pants down, Captain. I'm gonna have my little honey here give you a blowjob for this one!"
Smiling, the Captain stood, then halted. "Will she-- will she mind?"
Meaty whacked her rear thigh on an up-bounce. "What do ya think, pleasure hole? Mind giving our friend here a BJ?"
"Oh, just FUCK ME, baby! Bring that cock over here, Captain! NOW! PLEASE! I NEED it! Soooooo BAD!"
It took Captain Canada several desperate seconds of yanking and clawing to get his body stocking pulled down around his ankles, then he quickly shuffled toward the pretty brunette, who leaned down and took him in her warm, wet mouth.
"Oh, MY! Yes! She is MOST lovely, Meaty!"
"Just one of the fringe benefits of being a Y-Man, Captain."
"Hey... uhm... Meaty, do you think I could-- "
"Go ahead, Buttplug. She won't mind at all."
The Crimson Blush stirred. Sitting up from the floor and rubbing her eyes, she noticed that she was shedding skin in flakes. Not skin, she realized, but something that had dried on her and was now coming off. Strange. She looked around -- oh, that's right, she had found herself with these -- she made a distasteful face -- Y-Men. Captain Canada had confiscated the sofa to sleep off his orgasm. Buttplug was in a half-kneeling position on the floor, his face resting on his tongue on the carpet -- snoring loudly. Meatier Man was leaned back in the Lazy-Boy, his hands crossed over his abdomen, looking quite peaceful and sated.
Her mind travelled back to before that horrible craving to what Meatier Man had been saying... about his "pud"... and -- oh, shit!
"You really were quite the cum queen, Miss Blush."
Her eyes jerked to Meatier Man, all the memories coming back to her now. "Oh... my... GOD!" Suddenly her mind clicked, and another clue fell into place. "This is SEMEN, isn't it?! Dried and flaking off me! Oh Christ! I've been COATED in JISM!"
"Cum-dipped and dried, honey. You seemed pretty ecstatic about it at the time, smiling and singing and rubbing it all over like you were taking a bath in it."
"HOW MANY men did you invite IN HERE?! There's more dried semen on me than you three turds could have produced!"
"Well... actually... when Buttplug spews, he really spews a load!"
"Aaaaawwwwww... sonofaBITCH! YOU! YOU made me do this!"
Meaty smiled. "Accomplished with pud power."
The Crimson Blush shut her eyes and bunched her face up in concentration, exerting her powers.
"Oooh, now I feel really bad... alas... what shame... what guilt... how can I bear this burden..."
The Crimson Blush opened one eye to see if he was really repentent or just being a wise-ass again.
Meatier Man was grinning from ear to ear. "Can't grow shame in lifeless soil."
"Don't you even feel bad about totally soaking a poor innocent lady in cum?!"
She stood and started brushing the rest of the flakes off her naked body.
"Would you like a robe?"
"If my memory serves me correctly, you boys have seen in and around every orifice in my body. So... what's the point?"
"There is that." Meaty admired the way her body jiggled with her flaking motions. "I'm going to have to ask you for a favor, sugar-tits."
"My, my! How could I possibly deny you anything you ask, sir?!"
"Sarcasm is pretty on you. It makes you look weak and easy to overtake. But we need to be serious, I think. The world is about to be inflicted a blow from which it may never recover. The Y-Men need you bastions of light in the JLA to be-- "
"-- fodder to take the blows and distract the Bobbitt Club and protect you. Yes, I remember. I'm not brainless. And, no, I think the JLA can come up with a much BETTER plan than that!"
Meaty sighed. "I was afraid you were going to be like that..." He lightly rubbed his crotch. "Spread and beg, baby," he muttered.
The Crimson Blush was dusting the dried jism off her thigh. She moved up and began dusting her crimson pussy, then found her finger sliding deeply into her wet hot hole. "Nnnnggh!" she whimpered. "Oh, big meaty man! I need you to COAT me again! GIVE me that skin conditioner! I NEEEEED it -- BAD!"
"Sure, honey hole. But I need you to make a phone call first."
"Anything! I just NEED you! IN me! Can I ride you while I call?"
"You can ride me after the beginning of the call. Dial the JLA."
"Whatever you want baby!" She took the phone from him and dialed, 867-5309. "Hi, this is the Crimson Blush. Hi, Worry Girl. We've got a big problem. Yeah, I need you to put one of the bigwigs on. Yes, future of the world or lack thereof stuff. Yes, I can hold." She waved and smiled sweetly at Meaty. "Can I get on now?"
"In just one minute. Talk to them and let them know there is a problem, then give the phone to Captain Canada to discuss the details, and you can climb onboard."
"Captain!" Meaty called, trying to stir him from the sleep of the sexually sated.
"Oh, let ME!" Crimson backed her rear end to the Captain's face, still holding the telephone. "I am so fucking wet that he HAS to be able to smell me! Oops! No, Worry Girl, I wasn't talking to you. Yes, put her on. Yes. Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am, the Earth's ozone layer is at dire risk. Yes, ma'am, the most recent crime commited by the Bobbitt Club. No, he's holding a potential disaster in check, and-- yes, ma'am."
Captain Canada's nose wrinkled a couple times, then he opened his eyes to see a beautiful pair of butt cheeks in front of him, which he promptly nipped.
"Some Aurora Incid-- oooh!" She reached around to playfully slap the Captain on the chest. "No, no, ma'am. No, I'm just so worried that I'm pacing around while I talk, and I stubbed my toe. Yes, ma'am, let me let you talk to one of these gentlemen that knows more about the details than I do." She handed the phone to Captain Canada, then crawled on all fours across the room to Meaty, a leer on her face. "Can I PLEEEEEEASE climb up on your rod now?"
In a moment, the Crimson Blush was lost in ecstasy while Captain Canada explained the plight of the world.