The Red Owl: Sojourns of a Scarlet Submissive Superheroine
Caution: This Humor Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including ft/ft, Fa/ft, Consensual, Reluctant, Coercion, Mind Control, Lesbian, Humor, Superhero, Paranormal, Vampires, Incest, Sister, BDSM, DomSub, FemaleDom, Rough, Interracial, Black Female, White Female, Oriental Female, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Water Sports,
Desc: Humor Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The crimson crepuscular crusader of Cambridge desperately seeks outlets for her lesbian lust. In her search for satisfactory submissive experiences, she encounters several sultry supervillainesses, including the busty bruiser Barbelle and the voracious vampiric Birdeater.
It was early in the afternoon, and the streets of Boston were full of people heading back to their various workplaces after lunch. Needless to say, it was NOT an opportune time for a superhero chase, or a battle.
Alas, the Red Owl and her new sidekick - who currently called herself Gold Owl for lack of a better moniker - had no choice in the matter. A local supervillain calling himself Donkey Punch, had chosen this moment to attempt to boost a Humvee belonging to his former employer, and duty demanded that they stop him.
The Owl had faced this idiot before. His real name was Jimmy McGarrie, and his entire shtick up to that point was that he wore a donkey mask and happened to have been the star of his high-school boxing team. Of course, after high school, he'd dropped out of community college and resorted to robbing convenience stores before Red Owl finally kicked his ass. His stint in prison had apparently convinced him to go straight, and he'd managed to land a job at a used-car dealership. But it seemed he'd managed to screw that up, too.
"Make a hole, ya morons!" Donkey Punch screamed.
It was times like this that the Red Owl was thankful for her ability to fly. As bad as the traffic was at this hour, a maniac driving in a stolen Humvee could still make his own way. Cars were swerving onto the sidewalks, and people were running in a dozen different directions. If she and her sidekick had to try and apprehend Donkey Punch on foot, they would have been battling a human tidal wave.
Gold Owl, who was still mastering her abilities, and thus was not yet confident of her own flight capabilities, clung desperately to her red counterpart. "How are we going to stop him?" she asked.
"Well, he had to smash the driver's-side window when he stole that monster. He obviously hasn't had the opportunity to fix it, so if you're feeling particularly agile..."
"Don't worry, babe. I won't let anything happen to you..."
Red Owl flew in low, just slightly to the left of the Humvee, and Gold Owl dangled herself next to the open window. She swung herself in, feet first, and kicked Donkey Punch in the jaw. The Humvee swerved sharply.
For a brief moment, Gold Owl stopped thinking and just kept kicking and clawing. And then it was over, and the two girls waited until the police were in sight before flying off.
An hour later, the two avian avengers had returned to the home that they shared with their grandfather, and after changing out of their costumes and into regular clothes, they were now Nicole Veton and her foster sister, Aisha Diallou.
They could hardly have been more different. Nicole was nineteen, slender but sinewy, an American girl with a mix of Albanian and Mexican ancestry. She had her father's slightly sunken cheeks and strong nose, and her mother's small, dark eyes and full lips. Her skin was fair, and her shoulder-length straight dark hair was tied into two pigtails. Her grandfather insisted that her willful, tomboyish nature was entirely her mother's fault, but he could be incredibly stubborn himself.
Aisha, just over eighteen, was Somalian, the only member of her family to have been granted asylum in the US. Even after several years living in America, and several months living with Nicole and her grandfather, she still looked like she'd barely survived. She was still woefully skinny. Her face, framed with shoulder-length coal-black curls, was pretty but gaunt, her cheeks sunken, her lips perpetually pursed, her eyes habitually looking elsewhere. Where Nicole was outspoken and brash, Aisha was quiet and reserved, and devoutly Muslim. If Nicole had not goaded her, she would still be wearing an austere black abaya.
This seemingly odd pair was brought together a few months ago, when Nicole's grandfather found Aisha cleaning the bathrooms at the local community center in exchange for being allowed to stay there. This offended him deeply, and as was typical when he was offended, he took action and insisted that she come to live with him. Nicole had no experience in being a sister, but when she was inexperienced in anything, she dove headfirst into it, and thus she quickly embraced Aisha, and gave freely of her affection.
And so it was that, after the excitement of their afternoon sojourn, the two girls were now relaxing in their shared bedroom. Nicole had playfully pinned Aisha to her bed, her hands grasping Aisha's hands, her thighs straddling Aisha's hips. She nuzzled her sister's cheek. "You alright, baby?" she asked. "I know swinging you through a car window was not one of my better plans."
Aisha smiled. "I am fine. I think your insanity is catching."
Nicole kissed her cheek. "You know I love you."
"Mmm. I love you, too." Aisha kissed Nicole's lips.
Nicole grinned as they broke the kiss, then forced Aisha's arms out wide, stretching herself out and pressing her body close against Aisha's. She whispered in Aisha's ear. "I really, really love you." She nibbled at Aisha's earlobe. She released one of Aisha's hand, and started to move her own hand toward's Aisha's breast.
Aisha tensed up slightly. "It is almost time for prayer. I need to wash up."
Nicole saw the tide changing, but didn't want to relent. "Let's take a shower, then."
Aisha chuckled in spite of her sister's barely-disguised intentions. "I don't think that would work for the purposes of ablution..." she said. When Nicole refused to relent, she sighed. "Nicole, please. It is not just for myself. Joining your grandfather for prayer is a way of showing my appreciation for what his generosity..."
Nicole sighed and released her sister, grudgingly.
Aisha kissed Nicole's cheek in an effort to mollify her. "Thank you, my sister. I love you." She departed for the bathroom that they shared, and locked the door.
Alone with her thoughts, Nicole felt ashamed and guilty. Aisha was endlessly tolerant, and had changed herself so much, the better to accept Nicole's affection, but Nicole would have been fooling herself if she believed that these changes were entirely independent of her own constant pushing against Aisha's barriers.
And of couse, she knew that what she really, really wanted was to fuck Aisha. She wanted to tear Aisha's clothes off, force her onto her back and eat her pussy until she screamed. She wanted to press her own soaking wet cunt on Aisha's face and smother her until she had no choice but to eat Nicole out or else suffocate.
And that was only the beginning of the depravities that she wanted to explore. After discovering the Internet, Nicole had managed to find her way to its darkest, dirtiest corners. She fantasized about whippings, spankings, golden showers, and other BDSM stuff. She wished she could introduce Aisha to those pleasures.
Almost absent-mindedly, she had started to touch herself, fondling her barely-adult titties through her shirt, and sliding a hand into her panties. Her pussy was almost shaved almost bare, and right now it was already getting wet. She ran her fingers along her slit, barely suppressing her moans...
Goddamn, she was horny. She didn't want Aisha to see her like this, and she needed to find some relief, so she hurriedly changed back into her Red Owl guise and took off into the night...