Tease of Angels (Incomplete)

This was a story I began seven or eight years ago, got stuck, worked on it bit by bit over the next few years, then ultimately put it away with the thought I'd come back to it again another time. Instead, I kind of forgot about it. Looking back over my old documents, I found it again. I have no interesting in continuing this anymore, but I liked what I got so far enough, so I may as well share it.

This story is much like Sacred Stars in that it was an anime-inspired genre fiction concept, in this case, the idea of a shonen-style secret magical battle tournament, that I tried to infuse with supernatural femdom elements. The most immediate and obvious parallel is Fate/Stay Night, although I've never actually read a Fate story.

The main problem with this story is, like a lot my old ideas for erotic adventure tales, I started off with an erotic concept (in this case a woman uses magic to sexually conquer her opponents during a magic anime fighting tournament) but the genre fiction elements pretty quickly overtook the story, in a way I wasn't as ready to tackle as I had originally thought. I ended up writing myself into something of a corner when it came to keeping the battles creative and interesting while still trying to maintain any kind of eroticism past the early parts; in true shonen fashion, the opponents continued to get wilder and more powerful, and almost right away, sex stops being a viable tactic directly in battle.

Looking back over it now, I still like what I wrote, but I think I can safely say I have no interest in coming back to finish it. Hopefully what's here will still interest you; if nothing else, the sex scene is classic Salamando-style Supernatural Femdom!

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ONE

Andrea frowned deeply as she added up the bills and calculated her tips. Why were the people at her diner so fucking cheap? Did she not smile enough? Did she not bust her ass fast enough? Andrea gave a sidelong glance to Harriet, the cute, petite teenager whose bubbly personality made everyone smile without even trying. So did her cleavage and her tight booty.

Andrea’s own modest body lacked the teen’s curves, and always had. At thirty years old, she wasn’t going to get any bustier. She resisted the urge to grumble as she cashed out and settled the tips with her manager. The old man didn’t say anything negative or positive to her, just handed her the small set of bills and gave her a grunt of dismissal as she headed out the door.

Andrea turned the numbers over in her head as she walked the ten blocks back to her apartment. Even living cheap, these small tips weren’t going to be enough to cover the rent. Even spacing out her meals and sneaking a few bites off of people’s leftovers, she was probably going to have to go without heat again and it was still early March; the nights still reached freezing in the city.

Aching from her shift and having to walk back home right after, she slowly climbed the three flights of stairs to reach her single bedroom apartment. She paused as she saw Mike waiting by her door. She couldn’t quite hold back the scowl.

“Hey,” he said softly as she approached the door. “Wasn’t sure when you’d be home, so I waited.”

“Good for you,” she said, making a point to fiddle with her keys. “I’m not in the mood today. Go tend to yourself.”

“Hey, come on, I’ve had a rough week,” he said. “I’ve been really busy. I really need you.”

“You think I haven’t had a busy week? I just got off a twelve hour shift. My feet are killing me.”

“And I bet you didn’t make enough again, did you?”

Andrea set nothing, just set her jaw and started opening the door. Mike stepped up behind her, fully intending to come in after her. Andrea was fully intending to slam the door in his face. As she entered her apartment, she curled her fingers around the edge of the door, ready to throw it behind her.

“I can pay again,” he said swiftly.

Andrea hesitated. Fuck. FUCK! Why did he do this to her? Treat her like a whore? And yet, she was one, wasn’t she? She needed the money, he wanted to put his dick in her. Three years broken up, and he couldn’t let her go. She had become his little fetish. And she let it happen, because it was the only way to keep the lights on.

Andrea sighed and let go of the door, leaving it open. “How much?”

“I got a fifty on me,” he said.

“I’ll give you a blowjob,” she said. “After which, you leave.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You cleaned up?”

“Showered before I got here.”

“Alright, get your pants off and sit on the couch. I’ll be just a minute.”

She didn’t watch him as he walked past her, already fiddling with his belt buckle. She didn’t want to see his idiot face. Instead, she went straight through the living room to her bedroom and locked the door, before stripping down, and putting on a pair of pink pajama pants and a long-sleeve blue shirt. She shook her dull brown, wavy hair out of its pony tail, and let it spill down past her shoulders. She took a breath, and came back out. Mike was sitting with her pants around his ankles and his shirt pulled up, his cock pointing to the ceiling, ever eager.

“You gunna take your top off?” he said.

“Do I have to?” she said.

“It’d help,” he said.

“Seventy bucks.”

She tried not to be disgusted as she saw his cock twitch in excitement. He actually had a fetish for this sort of thing.

“Sixty,” he said.

“I’m not haggling. Seventy or leave.”

He grinned. “You need the money too much.” He motioned to her. “Come on. Top off. It’s not like I haven’t seen them before.”

Andrea frowned. He was, unfortunately, right. She needed the money. And the sooner she did this for him, the sooner he’d leave. She pulled off her shirt, not bothering to be sexy about it. Then she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor. “Better?”

“Much!” His cock twitched in agreement.

Sighing inwardly, she went over and knelt down between his legs. He had, at least, showered. She started off licking him, just the way he liked, starting from the base and making quick, light licks upwards, until her tongue flicked the tip of him. He let out a satisfied sigh as a bead of pre-cum seeped from the tip. She lightly blew on the tip, causing his cock to twitch again in anticipation, before taking him in her mouth.

Her head bobbed as she sucked him hard, rubbing her tongue on his length. Mark moved to clasp her head, but she pushed his hands back. He tried harder, fighting her, and after a few moments struggle, she let him grab her. His hands cupped the sides of her head gently, but firmly. He usually didn’t force her; he just liked the sense of control he got from feeling his hand on her head while she sucked him. Years ago, she used to like it, too. Now she just let him do it because it got him to finish quicker.

Her head bobbed faster, her tongue rubbed firmer. She came up for air a couple times, and he only gave her a couple seconds to catch her breath, before he pushed her onto him again. Not too rough, but with an undeniable insistence.

He didn’t take long. Four minutes, if that. Soon he was grunting, and then, his cock was flexing in her mouth, pumping his cum down her throat. She swallowed it all, and sucked him deeply making sure to get every drop.

Finally, he let her go, gasping and sagging back onto her couch, sweating just a little. She pulled away with a soft pop, and coughed, working her jaw. She stood and wiped her mouth with her hand, and let him get a nice long gaze at her tits.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” he said, softly. His gaze became one of longing, then of regret. Coming down from his sexual high, she could see his emotions shifting. He suddenly looked like he was about to cry. “I’m sorry. This is so fucked up. I’m so sorry.”

God, not this again, Andrea thought. If he was going to use her as his secret little whore, he could at least do it with dignity. She went to the small kitchen space and rinsed the taste of cum from her mouth with some water. “You’re not,” she said. She heard him stand and pull his pants back up. He came up behind her, and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I am,” he said. She didn’t turn to face him.

“Just go, will you? I’m tired.”

“I’ll leave the money on the table here.”

“Fine.”

There was a ruffling sound as he pulled some bills from his wallet and dropped them down. “I, uh,” he began, sounding remorseful. She kept her back to him, not wanting to see what pitiful expression he’d try to pull for sympathy. “I left you a hundred.”

“Thanks. Now go.”

“I’m sorry.”

Andrea whirled on him. “Leave!” He shrank back and quickly exited the apartment. Knowing him and his mood swings, he’d be sporting an erection by the time he got home, and he’d jerk out another load imagining her yelling at him and dominating him, only to turn the tables and make her suck his dick. He’d probably convince himself that that’s what happened tonight.

She shook her head and sighed. She looked at the small table and saw the five twenties he’d dropped down. She snatched them up. Just enough to keep the heat on for the next month. That was something at least.

She locked the door and dragged herself back to bed, thanking god she had the day off tomorrow. Not bothering to put her top back on, she just pulled the blanket over herself and went to sleep, trying not to cry herself.

 

 

TWO

Andrea groaned awake, her body forcing her by habit to get out of bed on schedule. She rolled onto her back, stretched, and took a moment to orient herself. Then she sat up Before she could swing her legs over the side of the bed, her eyes snapped open and she shrieked. Standing there, at the foot of the bed, was a pale, tall man dressed in a grey suit and tie, staring at her with a faint smile.

Andrea backed up against her headboard, gathering her legs under her, ready to jump to either side of the bed. She belatedly realized she was still bare-chested and yanked the sheet up to cover herself. “Wh-who the fuck are you?”

The man’s smile widened, and he held up a hand. “No need to panic, I am not here to hurt you,” he said, his voice surprisingly deep and sonorous. There was something odd about him. He was almost willowy, his height of at least seven feet only highlighting the slenderness of his body. His fingers were long and thin, and his black hair was slicked back tightly on his head. His facial features were almost delicate; were it not for his height, he could have been mistaken for a woman at first glance. It took her a moment to recognize that his ears were pointed, elf-like, and his eyes were a deep shade of crimson.

“What are you?” she said.

“I am a Fairy,” he said. Andrea cocked an eyebrow at him, giving him another look, again noting his almost feminine form. He chuckled. “No, not like that.” He snapped his fingers, and a small ball of light appeared in his hand. The light glowed softly, and began to flit about the room. Andrea was reminded of pixies from a certain famous animated film. “Think more magical.” The little ball of light returned to his fingertips and winked out.

“Okay,” said Andrea. She stepped off the bed, keeping her eyes on him as she went over to her closet, pulled out a white hoody, and slipped it on. She’d grab a bra later. “So, what do you want with me?”

“So glad you asked,” he said. “My name is Dauul, and I represent an interested party of spectators. Every one hundred years, we select twenty individuals to participate in a special combat tournament. The winner of this tournament will be given access to the Chalice of the Gods, an artifact that will, within reason, grant you a single wish.”

Andrea blinked. “Uh…”

“Yes, not what you expected,” he said. “Allow me to elaborate. Every century, we find twenty individuals and grant them the power of mythical archetypes humanity has devised throughout the millennia. Deity. Angel. Demon. Hero. Vampire. Dragon. Wizard. Etc. We then pit them against each other in this tournament. The losers are stripped of their powers and may return to their normal lives. The winner also loses their given power, but will gain the gift of the Chalice.”

“But... I’m not…” Andrea’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would you pick me? I’m not a fighter. I’m just a waitress.”

“We got a little bored picking seasoned warriors a few contests ago. They tended to just immediately jump in and kill each other. It got tedious. So, the last few times, we’ve been selecting people who aren’t just killers and fighters. It makes things more interesting to see what they do.”

Andrea looked past Dauul to the door, then back at him. He turned and motioned for her to pass. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to box you in. I’ll meet you out there.” So saying, he vanished into thin air. Andrea jumped. Blinking a few times, she rubbed her eyes, and lightly smacked herself on the cheeks a few times.

“Fuck,” she said. “Did Mark drop some acid before I sucked him off?” She took a breath, then went to her door. She hesitated, then slowly opened it, taking in the view of her sparsely furnished living room. Standing in the middle was Dauul.

“You’re not hallucinating,” he said. “Perhaps it would simply be easier to show you what I mean.” He waved his hand at her, and Andrea felt a sudden surge of warmth and something like an electric shock, ripple through her body.

And then she was taller. And curvier. And glowing. And she suddenly felt the weight of a set of large wings hanging off her back. Andrea’s eyes widened and she jumped, promptly striking her head on the ceiling. She moved to rub her head, when she realized the bump hadn’t hurt. She rubbed her head, and as her hand came away, her hair slipped forward. Her eyes widened to see a lock of golden strands. She grabbed her hair and held it out, revealing long, golden tresses.

“Wh-what the hell?!”

“This is your tournament form. You can change from this form back to your human one at will. While in your tournament form, you will be in possession of physical might beyond that of a human, as well as magical powers.” He looked her over appraisingly. “So, you have been chosen to wield the Angel archetype. Interesting. I won’t lie to you, the Angel has rarely won a competition, but it tends to be one of the finalists because it’s quite difficult to keep down.”

Andrea just blinked at him. “So... wait… powers… what…?”

Dauul waved his hand again, and there was a flash. Andrea felt the jolt to her body, and then she was shorter again, suddenly very aware of her own weight. She hadn’t even realized how light she had felt in the other form. It took her a moment to orient herself, and re-center her balance.

“You have one week to train in your powers and whatever styles of combat you wish,” said Dauul. “During this time, should you encounter any of your competitors, you are not to take action against them. You will know when the time to fight occurs. As for your gifts, the Angel possesses powers of healing and protection, as well as flight and a small boost in strength and durability. You will also find your own ability to recover highly accelerated; combining your natural healing with your magical recovery spells could even allow you to regenerate lost limbs or organs.”

Andrea continued to just stare at him. Dauul nodded, as if his words were perfectly understood. Then he said, “Well, I have others to meet and explain the situation. I bid you good luck.” And with that, he vanished into thin air once more. Andrea continued to stare at the space where he’d been, then plopped down on her couch. What the hell had just happened?

An hour later, having showered and ate breakfast, Andrea found herself standing in the alley between her apartment building and the one next door. The local bums had cleared out for the day, and at the moment, no one seemed to be watching that she could see. The early morning chill was slowly fading as sunlight crept through the spaces between buildings, but she still felt the cold through her jeans and faux-leather jacket.

Andrea had decided she wasn’t tripping on some lingering effects of her ex-boyfriend’s LSD-laced cum. For one thing, she didn’t have any of the heady rush or expanded senses people had told her about. For another, she was pretty sure her ex didn’t indulge in anything that hardcore. And for a third, when she willed herself to transform, she actually did so.

In a flash of light, Andrea’s slim, modest figure was replaced with a golden-haired, winged knock-out. It was only now she realized her clothing also changed with her. Her clothes had vanished, leaving her nearly naked, save for a white silk sash that curved around her body, hanging over her now ample bosom, and over her sex. She wasn’t even wearing shoes! And yet, she no longer felt bothered by the cool air.

She extended her wings out, bringing them forward. They almost shined with their brilliant white feathers, and yet, as the feathers caught the light, they seemed to have a light golden sheen to them. She was surprised how natural the appendages felt; she’d obviously never had wings before, but the instant she took this form, she instinctively compensated for the shift in her center of weight, adjusting them in the minute ways that allowed her to maintain her balance.

Not that the wings felt heavy. Andrea was aware once more of how light on her feet she felt, as if gravity’s hold had slackened considerably. She spread her wings out, although she couldn’t quite spread them all the way thanks to the alley walls, and took a light jump into the air. She didn’t come back down.

Andrea flapped her wings a few times, and she lifted higher. Her eyes widened as she found herself hovering a dozen feet from the ground. It took her a moment to realize she was doing so without even moving her wings. She looked over her shoulder to check that they were still there. Yep, still spread out, as if by just extending them, they were holding her in the air. She flicked her wings down a bit, and she raised a few more inches. Flicked them up, and she dropped those same few inches. Flapping upwards, she dropped to the ground, and landed softly on her toes. Folding the wings, she felt gravity gently grip her and settled her back against the ground.

“Wow,” she said softly. She looked up, crouched slightly, spread her wings, and leaped for the air. Thrusting her wings downward, so they trailed behind her like a cape, she shot skyward like a human missile. Only when she cleared the rooftops of the tall apartment buildings and office towers around her did she stop, spreading her wings out to hover in the air. Looking out over the city, she saw the landscape of rooftops spread out before her, catching the light of the morning sun. The chill air caressed her nearly-nude form, but while she felt the chill, it didn’t seem to bother her.

Leaning forward a bit as she adjusted the angle of her wings, she slowly moved forward, flying over the city. This was incredible! If this was had been the only power she gained from this “tournament form,” she would have considered it a blessing from the gods! This form of flight was so natural and intuitive it was like she’d always known how to do it. Her wings didn’t work like a bird’s, but they carried her through the air with the ease of walking or running. Even adjusting her position three dimensionally, compensating for altitude, was a breeze. She could dip towards a rooftop, skim along the surface, her toes grazing the top, and arcing upwards before she could hit the wall lining the roof’s edge. She was so caught up in the moment, she almost forgot that there were people on some of the roofs, at least until she almost ran smack into a group of maintenance men that were just coming out of the access door.

She had dipped low again, intending to land on the flat surface of an office building, happening to come up to the small protrusion of the door which led to the building’s main stairwell. As she approached it, the door came open, and she nearly smacked into a large man carrying tools and wearing a safety vest. She braked in mid-air, thrusting her wings forward to throw herself back. Several other men followed the first, then stood around talking for a few moments, figuring out who was going to do what on the job.

Andrea held out her hands, preparing to try and likely fail to explain herself, when she realized they hadn’t noticed her. She blinked. She was rather astonished that a group of people wouldn’t notice a tall, glowing winged woman hovering right in front of them. And yet, they seemed oblivious to her presence.

“Hello there,” she said. No response.

Curious, she hovered closer to them, actually coming right up to their cluster as they looked over some blueprints. She landed fully on the rooftop, and stepped right up to them. Oddly, two of the men shifted aside, as if giving her an opening to join their group, but did not actually acknowledge her presence. She cocked her head to the side, and reached out, snapping her fingers in front of one of the men.

The man blinked and jerked back, then looked to and fro. The other men paused their discussion and looked at him curiously. A larger man with a graying beard said, “Larry? The hell you doin’?”

“I…” the man waved a hand in front his face. “I thought I saw a bug…”

“Too damned cold for bugs,” the other man said. “You ain’t on the ‘shrooms again, are ya?”

“No sir!” said Larry, eyes widening.

Andrea backed away from the group, daintily stepping backwards. So, there was some measure of awareness of her presence, and yet, they didn’t seem to acknowledge her. Perhaps some element of her angelic form cast a sort of invisibility spell around her? It only now occurred to her how lucky she was that this was the case. She’d been so caught up in the moment of being able to fly, she hadn’t even considered what sort of chaos she could have stirred up, an angel flying around the city.

Still, she wondered just how potent this power was. Making sure her feet were firmly planted on the ground, she willed herself to return human. Like flipping a light switch, the change came over her, a flash of light, and she was back to her normal self. She waited, standing a few feet away from the group of workmen.

A few seconds later, as the men looked up from their blue prints, breaking off to go to their tasks, several of the men jumped as they saw her. “Hey!” said the man with the graying beard. “Where the hell did you come from?”

Andrea just smiled. “Sorry, just catching some air.”

The man scratched his head. “This area is restricted. The door was locked. How the hell did you get up here?”

Andrea shook her head. “I didn’t sir. I was never here.” So saying, she activated her other form, and once again, stood tall and bright as an angel.

The men collectively jumped again, blinking. They looked back and forth, as if she’d simply vanished. All except the first man, Larry, who was squinting hard at her, as if he could almost, just make her out. Then Andrea lifted into the air, and even Larry seemed to have lost any inkling of her presence. She watched the men rub their eyes, a few looking warily at the thermos’ a few of them carried, no doubt holding their morning coffee.

Andrea couldn’t help but chuckle. Under other circumstances, these powers could be quite fun! She lazily hovered over the city, watching the hustle and bustle of people below. She suddenly realized she’d lost track of where she was, and lowered down until she was hovering about thirty feet over the city streets. Again, no one seemed to realize she was there. Nonetheless, she was able to see the street signs, and figure out the way back to her place.

So, the strange elf-like man had said she had other powers: healing and protection. It would have been nice if he had stuck around to give her more details. She debated how she was going to test these abilities, until she passed over a homeless man sitting on the street side. He reeked of urine and he was coughing loudly. People moved to avoid him, though one or two people tossed a coin his way. He snatched the coins up with a gnarled hand, and mumbled a thanks despite the givers already having walked by. Andrea slipped down into the space next to the man, just as he let out a mighty cough that cause him to gasp and wince. Clearly, he had some kind of pneumonia or terrible cold. Even his regular breathing had a wheezing to it.

She held out a hand to him and imagined him getting better. She wasn’t really sure how this ability was supposed to work; she knew nothing of medicine outside of a few home remedies for basic problems. Still, she felt something, a gentle warmth, stir within her. She imagined that warmth spreading from her body and into the man’s. After a few seconds of nothing, she saw, and felt, a soft golden glow gather in her outstretched arm. The glow ran down to her hand, where it brightened, and then extended outward to cover the man, almost like a spotlight. The man didn’t seem to notice the light, but he was already in the middle of another coughing fit when it struck him. The man paused mid-cough, his forceful exhalation replaced with a sharp gasp. Andrea saw him tremble, his body tense, then he relaxed, and sagged back against the wall of the building he sat in front of. A blissful look crossed his face, and his breathing became easier, the wheezing vanishing. She also noticed a patch of redness on his face, maybe a rash, and a small cut on his hand, vanish before her eyes. She hadn’t even intended to heal those, but her magic appeared to be some kind of all-purpose spell.

Finally, Andrea withdrew her hand, the light fading. The man had closed his eyes as he enjoyed the effects. He opened them once more, and blinked. “Mercy!” he said softly. He rubbed his eyes. “I can see better!” He patted his chest. “I can breathe better!” He leaped to his feet and looked left and right. The crowd moving along the sidewalk ignored him, but Andrea watched him with interest.

“What jus’ happen? A miracle! Haha! Like I was touched by…” his eyes fell on Andrea. He blinked, then squinted. “an… angel?” He reached out towards her, as if trying to catch a shadow of something he wasn’t quite sure was there.

Andrea jumped up, her wings carrying her into the air. The man lost sight of her immediately, blinking and rubbing his eyes, then looking to and fro. “Lawdy,” he said. He then looked down at himself, patting himself through his soiled clothes. “So much bettah. Mebbe I can apply at the center again.” He wandered off down the sidewalk, heading to wherever the “center” was.

Andrea looked at her hand. The power to heal. A power like this could change the world. Tournament? Why would she even waste these gifts on such a thing? What kind of person was Dauul, that he would give someone these powers, just so she could use them to fight with? She wasn’t even a fighter to begin with! And if these were the kinds of powers she had, what kinds of abilities did her competition end up with?

“Practice is all well and good, but you should be more discreet,” said a metallic voice. Andrea jerked to the side, hovering back a few feet. She looked too and fro, expecting to see another flying person, or perhaps Dauul himself. Instead, it took her a few seconds to recognize a camera bolted to the corner of the building she was hovering next to. Except, on a second look, the camera wasn’t bolted down, nor did it appear like your regular security camera. It was a round camera the size of a softball, and it secured itself to the corner of the building with four spider-like metal legs.

Andrea leaned closer. “Hello?”

“Hello,” the camera-spider said. “You are another competitor, I take it? The Angel, I would guess.”

“Yes,” said Andrea, still cautious. “Who are you? The competition doesn’t start for a week, I was told.”

“You are correct,” the thing said. The robotic voice made it impossible to discern the sex or age of the speaker.

“Is, um, this your tournament form?” she said.

“Of course not,” it said.

“So who are you?”

“You cannot guess?”

“Look, I’m not into this science-fantasy anime crap, okay? I’m a waitress trying to not go homeless.”

“Stop. You should not reveal information to your enemies.”

Andrea clamped her mouth shut. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Well, you’re obviously spying on me already.” Then her eyes widened. “Wait, you can see me!”

“Of course, we can see one another. And hear one another. But no, I am not spying on you. If I was, I would not have alerted you to my presence. Now him, on the other hand, he is spying on you.” One leg came away from the building’s wall and pointed behind Andrea. She whirled and followed the line of the spider-camera’s point, which carried across the street to another office building. It took her a moment to spot it, but there, sitting on the sill of a window, was a small, goblin-like creature, a gangly, greenish, only roughly humanoid creature, with a single large eye for a head. It was staring at her intently.

“What the fuck is that?” she said, pointing at the thing.

“A homunculus, I believe. An artificial life form built for a utilitarian use. Sort of like my robot.”

Andrea half-turned to the spider-camera. “What was that about revealing information to your enemies?”

“I’m just getting the lay of the land,” he said. “We will all be battling throughout the city, I am led to believe.”

Andrea frowned at that. “What about all the people?”

“As you noticed, directly interacting with the people leads to them becoming more aware of our presence. I’m sure our sponsors, for lack of a better term, would rather we not be interfered with. I am certain our fights will be carried out in more isolated locations, during low-traffic times. Alleyways, the city park at night, etc.”

“But what about collateral damage?”

“Who knows?”

The camera was currently panning over the street, then stopped. Its lens zoomed in on something. “Someone’s seen us.”

“Another competitor?”

“I doubt it.” A leg pointed again, but Andrea didn’t need the assistance. A girl, maybe about nineteen, was gawking and pointing at her as she and her mother waited at a bus stop. The girl was telling her friend to look, but the friend didn’t seem to see Andrea. The girl pulled out her cell phone and took a picture. Andrea stiffened, but noticed the confused look on the girl’s face as she checked her camera.

“Surveillance equipment can’t see us, either,” said the camera bot. “But it would seem that some people are naturally sensitive to the supernatural, to entities like us.” The camera turned to her. “That is why I would advise discretion. You never know who might be able to see you.”

“Great,” she said. She looked at the camera. “I’m guessing you’ve got more of these things around the city?”

“Of course,” he said. “As does our competitor with his homunculi. We kept spotting each other all over.”

“That’s cheating,” she said. “Scoping out your competition before the tournament even starts.”

“Dauul said we could not interfere with one another,” said the camera. “He said nothing of collecting data.”

Interesting, Andrea thought. So there were loopholes, were there?

“Thanks. I’ll take that under advisement,” she said. She then looked at the camera in thought, then reached out and grabbed the camera.

“Ah! What are you doing?”

“I’m discreetly testing my abilities,” she said. “As I recall, Dauul said I had enhanced strength. I wonder how strong?”

“This is interference!”

“Nonsense,” she said. “I’m not fighting you, yourself, the man controlling the camera. I’m just testing my test my limits on a piece of junk I found.” So saying, she squeezed the camera. It was difficult, like trying to crush an unopened soda can with her normal human grip. But she kept at it, and after a few moments, the lens cracked, and she heard the metal squeak as the protective paneling bent. “Besides, if you want to get nitpicky, one could consider collecting data a sort of interference.”

“Hahaha, touché,” the camera said, before the device finally crunched under her grip.

Andrea hovered over a trashcan, then dropped the robot camera inside. No one seemed to notice, and the girl Andrea had seen earlier had already been dragged onto the bus by her friend. She then flew over to the building on the other side of the street, and found the one-eye goblin thing still staring at her. She crossed her arms as she hovered before it.

“Well? Anything you’d like to say?”

The thing just stared, unblinking, at her.

“God, you’re creepy,” she said. She reached out and picked the thing up. It did not resist, just twisted itself so it could continue to eyeball her regardless of how she held it. To the thing’s credit, its gaze remained fixed on her face, instead of her curves. She flew up above the rooftops again, then reared back and hurled the thing as hard as she could against the roof of the closest building. The thing exploded into a puddle of green goo. Andrea shivered in disgust, then returned to street level, flying her way home.

 

 

THREE

Over the next few days, between her shifts, Angela continued to test her powers, being as subtle as she could. She would hover over people and cast her healing spells, then zip a hundred feet away before stopping to watch the effects. She figured it would be more difficult trying to find people obviously injured or sick, but she found that the more she used her gift, the more she had a sort of intuitive sense of people’s illness. Either that, or she was just learning to pay more attention. She healed people’s limps, halted their coughs, cleared their asthma, she even was able to cure a blind person. She scattered her attempts all over the city, so no single spot would be discerned as “the miracle cure zone.” She hoped her targets were random enough that no one person would be able to meet up with the others and start spreading rumors around.

She considered going to the hospital and casting spells as she zipped back and forth, but she was stopped before she could enact the plan. When she’d cured the blind man, he’d whooped and hollered and gave praise to the Lord, and started showing off to everyone that he could see. The story had made the news later that night. An hour later, there’d been a rapid tapping on her door. When she’d answered it, another of the robot spider-cameras, another large-eyed goblin, and a pair of crows were waiting for her, staring at her. Only the robot spoke, but its message held an air of finality: “Stop drawing attention to our actions.”

So Andrea had to content herself with other practices. Staying on rooftops and in alleyways, she flit about, practicing aerial movement, and testing her new physical strength. She’d been able to, with great effort, lift a loaded dumpster over her head. The exertion had strained her body considerably, and her muscles screamed with aches as she lifted it. Thankfully, when she set the dumpster down, the aches faded quickly, indicating how fast she could heal herself.

She’d also practiced other tricks. As Dauul had said, her powers included “protection.” This, it turned out, equated to the creation of force fields. A faintly glowing white sphere of force could envelope her body, though she could also project this over other objects. She wasn’t sure just how to test this shield power without causing a scene, and had to contend herself with flying out past the city limits, taking her small pistol with her, and using up the dozen bullets she still had. They struck the shield and came to a dead stop, before falling right the to ground. That was encouraging, but there was no telling the powers some of the others would have. The Wizard? The Vampire? Just what would she be facing?

Which led to her next problem: Andrea had no idea how to fight. While flight and healing were useful indeed, they wouldn’t exactly help her win a battle short of just keeping herself safe until the enemy exhausted themselves. What had Dauul said? The Angel rarely won, but often made it to the finals on sheer tenacity? She could see that. Hard to keep down, between natural high regeneration and healing spells. But that ultimately meant she had little offense to work with. She was going to have to change that, but how was she going to learn sufficient fighting ability in just a few days? And if enemies of hers could use robots and weird little creatures, what good would fisticuffs do?

She sat on her couch, still in her tournament form, contemplating this issue, when she heard a knock on her door again, the rapid four strikes that was Mark’s signature knock. Andrea frowned. It was already early evening; she did not have time for his nonsense. Shifting back to her human form, still dressed in her pajama pants and a tank top, she approached the door, intent to send him home packing. Time spent sucking his dick would be better spent learning how to throw a punch!

However, as her hand touched the doorknob, she paused. She wasn’t any good at throwing a punch. She was stellar at blowjobs. And now that she had magical powers, maybe there was something more she could do with them. Ostensibly, these healing powers gave her control of the body, right? That’s how she made a person better, knitting their flesh and taking away their pain? But what if she could take that a step further?

Mark knocked once more. Andrea took a breath, then opened the door with a soft smile. “Back for more?”

Mark tried to smirk cockily, but only looked more goofy for it. “You know it,” he said. He held up two hundred dollar bills.

Andrea sighed and shook her head. “You want a good one today, then?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I’m pretty primed up.”

Andrea reached forward and clasped him over his pants. He was already semi-hard, and her brazen touch encouraged him to stiffen further. Mark blinked, a little surprised at the boldness of her. He blinked again as she grasped his swelling member, and pulled it, coaxing him inside.

“Well,” he said. “Guess some one’s eager!”

Andrea shut him up with a tight hug and a kiss, pressing into him and probing his mouth with her tongue, in a way she hadn’t since before they broke up. Since before she became his pet whore. She broke off the kiss, finally and smiled slyly up at him. Mark was completely stunned, jaw dropped. “What’s wrong?” she said.

“I, uh, um, you’re just so…” he swallowed. “You’re usually not this forward.”

“I want the money,” she said, giving him a wink. “Maybe I want to convince you to give me a bonus.”

“Uh…”

“And maybe I’m a little in the mood today, too,” she said. She laid her head on his shoulder as she hugged him. “Remember how we used to play?”

She felt his heartbeat quicken and his cock throb. She smirked to herself. He was just so easy. She felt a small pang of guilt for what she was thinking of doing, but remembering all that Mark had done to her tempered it.

“I, uh, I didn’t bring any, um…”

“That’s okay, I have some stuff we can use,” she said. “And this time, I want to do it to you.” She pulled back and looked him in the eyes.

Mark hesitated. “Well, um, I dunno…”

“Come on,” she said. “I let you tie me up all the time. Let you feel like a big man. The least you could do is return the favor. I never got to experience that before.”

“I dunno,” he said. “I never liked the idea.”

She frowned. “You think I liked being tied up? I only did it to make you happy.” She pulled away. “I’ve done a lot of things to make you happy.”

“Well, I mean, I’ve paid you to get me off, that’s kinda hot,” he said. Andrea forced down the temptation to scoff and scowl. “But I mean, I dunno, I don’t know if I can, uh, if I can really…”

“Give up control? Be vulnerable? I let you do that to me all the time,” she said.

“Yeah, but I mean, you’re a woman, you know? You’re already used to that.”

Andrea fought to keep her expression calm. She pulled away from him and managed a thin smile, taking a slow, silent breath to calm her nerves. This fucking guy. She couldn’t believe she once fallen for him.

When she didn’t say anything, Mark continued, hesitantly. “It’s, you know, it’s different for a guy. It’s a lot more, um—”

“Scary?” she said. “Scared of what? Your image? Is it an ego thing?”

Mark flushed, but shook his head, trying to deny what was obviously the truth. “No, no, it’s not like that.”

“Then what? Do you not trust me? Are you afraid I’m going to hurt you?”

He looked her over. On the one hand, he hadn’t exactly treated her well these past few years. On the other hand, she’d never attacked him before. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like she was up to something. “I just don’t want to do it,” he said. “There. That’s it. I just don’t want to.” He held up the money. “So come on. Take ‘em off, and let’s ball.”

Andrea crossed her arms. “No. We do it my way, or not at all.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he said, his faux-confidence faltering. “You could really use this money.”

“Could, but not from you,” she said.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I’ve got another meal ticket coming my way,” she said.

Mark’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “You fucking slut. You got some other guy all of a sudden? He offer you more than me?” He paused. “Nah, you’re just playing me. Trying to squeeze some more dollars out of my wallet.” He plucked one of the hundreds out of his hand and stuffed them in his pocket. “If you want to earn the full amount back, you better really put in the effort.”

“I would, if you’d let me,” said Andrea. “But you’re too much of a pussy to let me tie you up. I’m not talking dangling you from the ceiling in one of those bondage harnesses, I just want to tie your arms.” She stepped into him again, and gave him an alluring look. “Please. I just want to have some fun for myself this time. And if I have fun, I’ll make sure you have fun.”

Mark hesitated. He swallowed, and she could see the gears turning in his head. His cock was back to semi-hard, as if unable to decide if it found the prospect arousing or not. Andrea reached down and cupped him once more, rubbing him softly through his pants. His penis stiffened again, and Mark let out a breath. He looked at her with a strained expression, but she gave him her best puppy-dog stare.

“Okay,” he finally said, a little shakily. “Okay, just don’t do anything weird, alright?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, smiling. “It’ll be fun.”

“Strip first,” he ordered.

Andrea sighed, but opted to comply, not wanting to risk breaking the moment. She slowly slid off her pants and panties, then pulled off her top, revealing her full nudity to him. Mark soaked in the sight of her, and she could see his cock flex in his pants. “Yeah, good,” he said. “Maybe we can do something before you tie me up?”

Andrea put her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look. “Take your clothes off and get on my bed, or you’re leaving right now.”

Mark complied quickly, her nudity coaxing him more convincingly than any argument. Such a poser. When he was fully nude, cock pointing merrily up, she reached forward and grasped his cock, then pulled him toward her bedroom. She went through her closet, pulling out the cloth belt of her robe, and fishing out a necktie Mark had left here during one of his visits. From her dresser, she pulled out a couple pairs of tights and a bandana. With these makeshift ties, she bound him spread eagle onto her bed, tying his wrists and ankles to the frame. The she wrapped the necktie around his eyes.

“Hey!” he said in protest, trying to twist his head around. “You didn’t mention a blindfold!”

She smirked. “I didn’t mention a gag, either. Thanks for reminding me” She padded out of the room, and came back a moment later, tying something around his mouth. He let out a moan of either protest or surprise as the scent of her pussy filled his nostrils; she gagged him with her panties.

“Now, then,” she said. “Just how I want you.” She settled her hand on his chest, and rubbed him gently, before lowering her hand slowly down his stomach, to wear his cock was throbbing. She looked down and smiled, then grasped his cock, feeling it pulse in her hand. “You seemed to be liking it so far. Not still scared are you?”

He let out a moan, but hesitantly shook his head. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Good.” She got off the bed for a moment, and concentrated. In an instant, her body transformed to the angelic, curvaceous beauty of her tournament form. The form was naked this time, matching her lack of clothes. She wondered if the sash that usually protected her modesty, if only slightly, only showed up when she was wearing something, or if she could willingly transform without it. Something she could check out later.

Folding her wings tightly against her back, she slid back onto the bed, straddling her bound lover. Sitting on his thighs, she traced her fingers along his chest and stomach again, letting them trail along his hips. His cock twitched, just an inch from her sex, anticipating the touch of her hands. Instead of touching him, however, she let her fingertips stay on his hips, and focused the magic of her new body through them. Normally, projecting this power healed a person’s body, but what if there wasn’t anything to heal? What if she just wanted to make them feel good? Angels were all about giving pleasure of a sort, weren’t they? Usually spiritual comfort and guidance, but that didn’t have to be the limit. Healing was about pushing the body to do what she wanted, usually repairing itself, but why not induce the sensations of pleasure? Right now, as she projected the magic into his body, she wanted him to feel pleasure, to make him cum.

Mark gasped and squirmed beneath her as his cock twitched rapidly. It seemed the magic was having the desired effect, making him stiffer, sending sensations of raw pleasure through him. He let out a loud moan and his whole body went taught. Suddenly, he exploded, semen jetting out of his cock forcefully. Andrea jumped, surprised at how quickly and powerfully he came. She eased off the flow of magic, and it took Mark several seconds to be able to get his breath. Then, he was squirming and mumbling beneath his gag, trying to escape his bonds. Andrea leaned forward and pulled the panty-gag off.

“What the fuck was that?” he said, still a bit breathless. “What did you do?”

“Did you like it?” she said.

“What did you do? Did you use a device or something?”

“Did you like it?”

“What—?”

“Did. You. Like. It.”

Mark paused, swallowed hard, and tried to calm himself. “Well, y-yeah, I guess, I… I’ve never felt anything like that before. It was like… it was weird, like I just felt this sensation, this pleasure, without you even touching my cock!”

“Interesting.”

“H-hey, I’m not a pre-mature ejaculator, okay?”

“Really? Because you just shot your spunk in like ten seconds. Is this why you don’t want to be tied up? Because it makes you too sensitive?”

“No! Don’t mock me!”

“Relax, Mark. Please.” As she said that, she felt a bit of the magic trickle from her body into his. Mark had opened his mouth to protest some more, but he paused. She put her hands on his chest again, and felt his heartbeat slow a bit.

“Can you just untie me?” he said, softly.

“No. We’ve barely gotten started. There so much I want to try still.”

“You can try it without tying me up!”

“Naw. This is more fun!”

In truth, she really just didn’t want him to see her like this and run away, much less tell people about the strange angel lady his ex had become. Plus, she wasn’t sure if the magic would keep trying to hide her body, and make the whole thing even creepier. Although, he could hear her just fine, it seemed. Maybe because she was sitting on him, there was no way the illusion magic could trick him that she wasn’t there? Or maybe he was one of those people sensitive to magic and able to see her?

Whatever. She got up, grabbed a towel and wiped him clean, then gagged him again. She straddled his legs again and lightly traced her fingers around his groin, purposefully avoiding touching his penis. She sent little sparks of magic into him, directing the energy at his genitals in tiny rapid fire bursts. Mark gasped through his nose and squirmed, his cock jumping and jerking at the mystical pulses. Despite having just cum, it seemed the magic had him primed back up to full in seconds, as his cock swelled and bounced eagerly. She then sent a steady trickle of magic from one hand, while continuing the pulsing from the other. Mark let out a cry and his hips tried to lift off the bed, his cock clenching mightily.

No, not so fast! thought Andrea. Through the magic, she could sense he was already about to cum again, his mortal flesh too easily triggered by her angelic power. He’d never been a marathon fuck, but this was far faster than usual! She was never going to learn anything at this rate, if he kept popping off every few seconds.

She narrowed her eyes and stared at his penis, willing it to calm down. Or, if not calm down, then at least to contain its impending explosion. As if by instinct, she felt the magic flicker off her fingertips and target the nerves of his genitals, working a strange spell. Mark let out a squeal and bucked and his cock clenched once more, quivering with tension, and Andrea knew he was pushed over the edge! But as she watched, fascinated, no semen came out. His cock jerked and jerked, grew taught and bright red with tension, but seemed unable to cum!

Mark mewed pitifully, and he mumbled into his gag. Andrea, one hand still sending tickling magic into his cock, pulled the gag own a bit. “Aaah!, Fuck! Andrea! Let go, let go, let it pop! What the fuck are you doing? Ah!”

Andrea cocked her head to the side, and looked back down at his cock. It was darkening further, the veins bulging. She was giving him priapism! Andrea frowned and sent a spell a healing at his cock, wishing the pressure to ease, but not allow him release. Mark gasps and grunted, and his cock eased down in tension, the color lightening, deflating to almost a normal erection. Not entirely sure how she was doing it, she held him that way for nearly a minute, stimulating his groin with magic pulses, not letting him release, but keeping his penis from becoming dangerously swollen.

Mark was beside himself, babbling about how good it felt, and how he needed to cum. Andrea then pulled away from him, a small flick of her wings lifting herself off the bed to hover. She held out her hands and kept directing the flow of energy towards him, wrapping and stroking his cock with magic.

Another few minutes went by and she floated over to the side, setting her feet down on the floor. She kept one hand pointed at his cock, while she slowly drew her other hand over the air, a slow sweep over his body. Mark gasped and giggled and jerked as he felt a tickling pleasure trace his whole body, from toes to head and back.

“A-a-andrea, w-what… what the f-f-fuck…” he managed, and this his words were lost in giggles and gasps. All the while, his cock bounced and jerked and flexed merrily. She could actually feel it trying to force an orgasm through the spell that held back his release, but her magic was irresistible, it seemed.

She paused her motions for a moment, then opened her mouth and licked the air, sending a thread of magic off her tongue. She sensed, more than saw, the thread of energy trickle through the air and touch the tip of his cock, then trace up and down the shaft, like the tip of his tongue. Mark let out a cry, and thrashed in his bonds. Through his gasps, she heard what might have been utterances of “please” and “stop” and “cum.”

She almost stopped. Then she thought of all the times he’d showed up at her door, insisting she suck him off or let him fuck her. She’d only agreed to any of it because she’d needed the money he offered. She thought of the number of times, when they were still dating, that he insisted on tying her up, and if she didn’t comply, how he’d belittle her, and wouldn’t give her any affection. Of the times he got her drunk just so she’d be more compliant, or coerced her into it by implying he could always buy a whore. He’d never technically raped her, per say, but the way he always had to dominate her, to have the upper hand, to have sex with her in some way that always made it clear she was just a little bitch he stuck his dick into. For him, it was all part of his kink play, and she’d dealt with it because she had loved him. And then, when she finally dumped him and broke off the relationship, he’d managed to still find a way to make her his little bitch.

“Andrea!” he howled. She went over and re-gagged him, cinching it tighter this time. She then increased the flow of magic, making his cock surge, and his hips arc up off the bed as he screamed in a pleasure so intense it would have hurt if she let it. She concentrated both hands and the magic tongue back on his cock and coaxed him towards that orgasm she cruelly held back, securing the block tighter on him. She grit her teeth, forcing herself not to go overboard, but to gradually increase the sensations and the pressure. Mark thrashed and cried, jerking back and forth in sensual agony.

When she tired of using spells, she used her glimmering wings, teasing and tickling him with the soft feathers, making him shake and howl in laughter, then using the tips over his genitals, teasing the balls and the head, letting magic spark through it until he was jerking at his bonds so hard, she hard the bed frame creak.

Then, when he seemed about to go insane, she crawled between his legs and took him into her mouth. Mark could not draw breath to scream, but her magic kept him conscious, kept him from suffocating on lack of air. Cruelly, wickedly, she tortured him, used his body and perversions against him, paying him back for years of degradation in a way she’d never thought to before, but was so much more devastating than any slap or punch or angry words could be.

Then, when she tired of only giving him pleasure, she decided to have her own fun. Still in her angelic form, she straddled him and took him inside. With the strength of her new form, she gripped him tightly, making him wince and whimper, and she rode him steadily for longer than she’d ever done, squeezing his cock tightly inside her, rippling magic along his nerves. Mark, his body energized by her healing magic, forced to have endless stamina, could only helplessly buck into her, aiding in her pleasure, his body utterly hers to command. He no longer resisted, no longer begged. Unable to form coherent thoughts, he could only make pitiful whimpers. When she thought back on it later, it was likely only her magic that was keeping him from going into a coma or cardiac arrest, the only thing keeping him conscious.

She lost track of how long she rode him, how many orgasms she enjoyed, but the sun was already up before she finally stopped. She pulled off of him, finally, his dick glistening with her wetness, and still hard as diamonds. She lay down next to him, holding him, feeling him twitch and gasp. He was too incognizant to notice her angelic forms different body shape pressed against him. She looked him over, placing a hand on his chest and funneling her magic into him once more, this time purely for healing, easing down his blood pressure, his tension, his mental stress. She undid the gag so it would be easier for him to breathe. Finally, after several long minutes, his breathing returned to normal, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

She gave him another ten minutes to rest, then shook him awake. “Guh… buh…” he roused, almost drunkenly. She shifted back to her normal form, and slid up the blindfold. He looked at her in bleary-eyed awe.

“Hey,” she said softly, offering a smile.

“What the fuck did you do?” he said.

“Had fun. For once.”

“You… you…”

“I’d say that was at least a million dollars worth of sex, don’t you?”

Mark just gawked at her. She sighed, then reached over and lightly slapped his balls. He yelped. His testicles were swollen and tender with trapped semen. Her blocking spell still held strong, impossibly holding him on the edge despite all she had done to him. He started to tremble, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Andrea frowned. “Hey,” she said. “It’s okay. I won’t charge you for this.”

“I d-don’t…” he sobbed “I… I…”

“Yes?”

“Y-you just… oh, god…” tears spilled down his cheeks and he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth in a grimace. She had no idea what he was feeling. Defeat? Sorrow? Anger?

Andrea sighed. While his eyes were closed, for an instant, she returned to her angelic form, and sent a pulse of magic at his balls that undid the orgasm block spell. She shifted back immediately, then grasped his cock. That was all it took, and Mark lurched his hips up, shouting like he’d been stabbed, as cum shot out his dick like a hose. He jerked and thrashed and his penis flexed madly. Andrea had to hold on tight so he didn’t throw her off. When it was over, he lay, utterly stunned, cum drenching him from neck to thighs. A good portion had gotten on Andrea, as well as the headboard and wall. She sighed inwardly at this, but got up and finally untied him. Mark just lay there, staring at the ceiling, utterly destroyed. She went and got his clothes and tossed them on him, getting his cum all over them. Then she took his money and tossed it on him dismissively. He watched bills flutter onto his chest, and stared up at her in what might have been half-wonder and half-fear.

“Get out, Mark. Now. Take your money, I don’t need it. Never bother me again.”

Stiffly, but hastily, Mark got his pants on and stumbled towards the door, clutching his belongings. Andrea let him out, then slammed the door behind him, almost hitting his ass as he went. She watched him out of the peephole, watched him curse and wipe his mess up with his shirt, struggle to get his shoes on, and stumble off.

She let out a sigh. Only now, watching him limp away, did the anger she’d been feeling abate, and she felt a pang of pity for him. She’d been too vindictive. She made a note to check up on him later. Still, the night hadn’t just been for revenge, or even for pleasure. Now she knew her magic could be used in ways none of the other competitors were likely to be prepared for.

She shifted back to her tournament form and smiled, admiring the incredible body this power had given her. Maybe she couldn’t throw a good punch, but she could devastate them nonetheless.

 

 

FOUR

Andrea was on her way back from work, ducking into an alley to quickly flash into her tournament form to wash away the aches of the day with her healing power. She’d discovered her transformation not only refreshed her human body, taking away the need for the sleep or food for a while. It wasn’t much, but not needing to spend money on food for a little while was a nice bonus. Honestly, if she did win, she wondered if keeping her powers could be her wish. Keep all her costs low and hey, she could even charge people in secret for magical cures.

It was a nice thought, but given how she’d never heard of superhumans running around a hundred years ago, the chances of keeping one’s powers seemed quite unlikely. Probably, the fairies would make sure the effects of the wish stayed mundane.

As she neared her apartment, she felt a sudden twinge in her head. She flinched and put a hand to her temple, pausing her walk. A few people, irritated at her sudden halting, brushed past her, but she almost didn’t notice. She felt a sudden strong urge to change directions and start heading east. The compulsion was unnatural, yet irresistible. Was this part of the tournament?

She ducked back into the alley, transformed, and flew into the sky, soaring towards her compulsion. A few minutes later, she found herself circling over the city’s warehouse district, in a section that had been abandoned after a fire had half-destroyed a few of the major buildings. As she circled, a flock a crows flew up from the edges of the buildings and swooped around her, as if studying her. Then they flew towards an empty, cracked and weed-infested parking lot, where she saw two figures standing.

One she recognized straight away as Dauul, still dressed in his suit and tie. The other was a rough-looking young man with spiky hair and thick muscles. He sported black jeans and a red shirt, with the sleeves torn off. A red band was wrapped around his head, with the two ends lightly blowing in the breeze. As Andrea set down lightly, folding her wings, she noted the man wore no shoes, the ends of his jeans tattered. He has his arms crossed, but she noted the long, sharp claws on the ends of his fingers and toes. Though his face was mostly human, she could see his eyes were golden with slit-pupils, like a cats, his ears were pointed almost like an elf, and as he gave her a sneer, she saw the sharp, pronounced canines. Topping this all off was a monkey-like tail located just above his buttocks, which she’d at first thought was the end of a long sash, until she watched it flick and curl like a living thing.

“You, uh, you rang, I guess?” said Andrea, keeping an eye on the man while turning partially towards Dauul.

“I did, yes,” he said. “Your first battle is about to begin. Now, I shall explain the rules of the tournament:

“You will fight to the death or until one of you submits to the other. Should you win, you will be given one day to recuperate, then move on to fight your next opponent. Upon your loss, you will lose your powers and no longer be a part of the tournament.

“Once a fight begins, you are locked into it. You may choose not to begin your fight immediately, but you must end it within five days. Failure to fight at all within the five day time period will result in both of you forfeiting. There can be no draws; should neither of you bring the other down within the time limit, you will both lose. Attempting to flee the battle for the duration of the five days will be seen as a forfeit.

“You cannot try to fight someone else in this time, or you will forfeit. You cannot interfere in the battles of other competitors at any time, or you will forfeit. Should you attempt to interfere with any competitors ahead of time, you will forfeit. If you attempt revenge against your opponent after the fight ends, you will forfeit if you were the fight winner or you will be stopped and imprisoned until the tournament is over if you were the loser. This includes informing still-active competitors about the tactics of their upcoming opponents.

“Are these rules clear?”

“Uh… I suppose so…?” said Andrea.

“Excellent,” said Dauul. He bowed to both fighters. “We look forward to an interesting match.” He then vanished.

Andrea swallowed nervously, and turned to the bestial man in red and black. “So,” said Andrea, looking the man up and down. If it wasn’t for the animal features, he could be a supermodel. Those abs alone would be worth a million in underwear ad billboards! “May I know the name of the guy who’s about to beat the shit out of me?”

The man sneered again. “Kuradji,” he said, his voice a soft growl. “The Beast.”

She smiled. “Cute,” she said. “I’m Andrea. The Angel.”

His tail flicked like a whip. “Obviously,” he said. He shifted into a battle stance, half-crouched, legs wide apart, one hand held back, the other held in front with the fingers curled. His claws glinted in the light.

“Okay,” said Andrea, noting the elaborate stance. “I guess you know Kung Fu, hu—”

Kuradji went from standing thirty feet away to on top of her before she could blink. His body, heavy with muscle, hit her like a truck. Andrea found herself flying backwards like a human missile, wings trailing behind. She slammed into the outer wall the warehouse, hard enough to crack the brick, and was paralyzed from the impact for a moment. Unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to even feel the pain just yet, she blinked dully as her opponent followed his attack with another, leaping right up to her and slashing at her with gleaming claws. The needle-sharp tips sliced through her skin like razors, leaving deep cuts that flayed open her flesh, from neck to thighs.

Pain shot through her body like a fiery wave. She let out a gasp with what little air she had left and flailed her arms to drive him off. But even as she weakly smacked at him, she could feel her power taking hold. Already the claw wounds were starting to stitch themselves back together. Andrea clutched at her chest and took a breath, realizing how completely outclassed she was right from the start.

Kuradji had taken a step back to see if his lethal slashes had been enough. The moment he saw that her wounds were healing, he immediate jumped forward and rammed his entire arm through her chest.

Andrea’s body seized up, then went slack. He had punched clean through her ribs and was holding her heart in his claws. Darkness threatened to overtake her vision, but somehow, her body was still holding on, if barely. She could feel the blood sucking back into her veins and arteries, refusing to spill out. She could feel her heart still beating, even though it was now outside of her chest.

Dauul had said they’d picked a bunch of talentless nobodies for this fight, had picked people without any combat skill. Most people didn’t need to be expert soldiers or martial artists to kill another person, though. And this young man had just killed her in the first second of the first fight.

Except her heart was still beating. Her body shuddered as Kuradji dug his claws into the still-pulsing muscle, trying to get it to stop. Andrea felt her body trying to mend itself, felt her heart trying to pull back into her chest. She grit her teeth, slowly curled her fingers into fists, and concentrated on that sensation. She willed the power she’d so casually used throughout the weak to surge around her own body. She saw Kuradji’s eyes widen in surprise as white light bathed her body, and suddenly, he was pushed back, his arm shoved out of her chest by her re-knitting body. It took a few seconds, but the light shone too brightly for her opponent to bare, and he jumped back, shielding his eyes from her glow.

When it was over, Andrea was huffing for breath, but her body was fully intact once more, leaving only a dull, but quickly fading ache in her chest. She blinked and shook her head, leaning against the wall she’d be thrown into. She looked up at Kuradji as he rubbed the spots out of his eyes. And second now, he wou—

Before she could even complete the thought, he was swiping at her. She leaped away, barely missing his claws. Several feathers were sliced off her right wing as she dodged to the side and took to the air, thrusting her wings downward to shoot upwards. Kuradji kept his eyes on her, craning his neck. He let out a roar, and the flock of crows surged up, washing over her and tearing at her flesh.

“What the fuck!” she said, desperately smacking at the birds, only for them to peck and slice at her skin. She was regenerating almost faster than they could injure her, but they had her completely surrounded. She spread her wings for another down thrust to send her higher, but then, the weight of Kuradji slammed into her again. The wind knocked out of her once more, his fingers dug into her abdomen and hooked into her flesh, pulling her down with him. They slammed into the old asphalt, breaking it apart beneath his feet and beneath her back as he smashed her into the ground again.

Cripes, other people got to have helpers? That wasn’t fair, she thought as she struggled to push his arm away from her, casting another healing spell on herself to force his fingers out of her guts. His strength was enormous, however, and he wasted no time jamming his claws into her throat, digging in and working them back and forth, choking her even as he shredded her jugular open. Andrea slapped ineffectively at him, unable to cry out. She was dimly aware that this should be hurting her severely more than it should, but already, her body was adapting to counter act the pain. Still, all the healing in the world meant nothing if he was just going to beat her like a drum, with her unable to do anything.

But what the hell could she do? Her powers were purely defensive! All she could do was heal and fly and create…

Create force fields! Even as Kuradji kept digging into her throat, she closed her eyes and quit fighting him, concentrating on the power inside her, finding that sense of pure force, and pushing out with it. There was a guttural grunt, and a wooshing feeling, and she felt Kuradji get shoved away from her, taking several chunks of her flesh and blood with him.

Her eyes opened, and a glowing, ghostly-white force field now surrounded her in a dome of pure, protective force. Kuradji had been thrown several yards into the air from the thrust of its appearance, but Andrea could already see him twisting like a cat as he flew. When he landed, it was on his feet, landing with another asphalt-cracking hit, then bouncing back up into a fighting stance. He glared at her through the shield. Three dozen feet separated them now and he kept his distance, slowly circling around her.

Andrea got to her feet slowly, taking her time to catch her breath and get her wits about her. She was fully caught up in the moment, not letting herself think about how insane this all was. She was in a fight to the death with weird super powers, and she had to figure out how to escape it. What could she use?

She already knew that even if her angel form had some enhanced strength, it would be nothing against this powerfully built man. She wasn’t beating him physically. Maybe flying up and trying to dive bomb him with the force field up? No, he was too fast. Throwing healing energy wasn’t going to do anything.

Unless… she thought back to how she’d made her ex cry and whimper. Maybe that was something.

------

And that's the story! A quick rundown for the rest, as I remember it: 

1) Andrea defeats Kuradji by seducing him, and tease-and-denying him until he goes crazy! His bestial nature makes him all the more vulnerable to carnal pleasures. He loses his powers, but he ends up hanging around with Andrea, and maybe becomes her next boyfriend.

2) Andrea then faces an opponent with Elemental powers, immediately throwing things off, as his elemental form makes him immune to her pleasure powers. I had the idea that Andrea was going to somehow seduce his wife to make him throw the match, but of course, that would have been outside interference. Somehow or another, though, she was supposed to find a way to beat him.

3) Andrea then faces the Alchemist (the man who created the homonculi spies), her powers again proving ineffective directly. No clue how she was supposed to beat him, unless maybe she figures out some way to warp his own homonculi against him.

4) Andrea's final opponent is the Machinist, the one who built the spider-cam robots. Once again, no idea how Andrea was supposed to seduce him, since he fights with machines and power armor.

Interludes) At a couple points, I'd also have some short scenes where we see the losers of various fights observing the battles of the Alchemist and Machinist to big them up. We get a sense of the battles that happened off camera, as the losers of old fights are allowed to spectate and comment on the remaining battles. We see former roles of the Thief, the Vampiress, the Champion, etc. 

End) Ultimately, Andrea was going to somehow win, and she ends up with a wish that helps her live her life more easily (probably riches), Kuradji becomes her boyfriend, they maintain contact with the Elemental and his wife. Probably Andrea does the hero thing, where she uses her wish to help the people who lost their fights in some way (each of them was in dire straights when the fairies recruited them), thus proving she was indeed fit to be the "Angel" archetype.