Electric power
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 5
by
copier
· original author:
an188
The boardwalk’s shadows lengthened as Glitz and Glam locked eyes on the squat, weathered building at the far end of the pier: “Havenridge Currency Exchange – Cash for Coins, 24-Hour Service.” The upper-floor window gaped open like an invitation from the gods themselves. The elderly owner had just locked the street-level door, briefcase swinging, whistling his way toward the parking lot.
Glitz’s cyan-teal eyes flashed with manic hunger. “Half an hour, minimum,” she breathed, voice husky with adrenaline. “We take it. Right now.”
Glam’s darker gaze narrowed, calculating. The dwindling hotel money burned in her mind like acid. “We’re the Glam Sisters. We don’t wait for handouts.”
They slipped off the main planks in perfect sync, hips rolling with that same sensual, predatory stride even under pressure. Their extravagant teal-and-navy ponytails swayed like battle flags—Glitz’s spiked mohawk bangs catching the first droplets of incoming rain, Glam’s straight bangs slicing across her cool, furious face. Black lips pressed into determined lines. Long, manicured nails flexed inside their gloves. Every step screamed confidence, but underneath it was raw desperation—the same desperation that had turned their usual smug bickering into something sharper, more emotional, more dangerous.
Behind the building stretched a narrow, trash-strewn alley reeking of salt and rust. Their stilettos clicked softly as they crept along the chain-link fence until they found it: the only route to the second-floor window. An ancient electrical transformer box squatted against the wall like a sleeping monster, its metal casing corroded, doors half-off, thick cables and exposed copper wires spilling out in a deadly tangle. Sparks popped and hissed every few seconds. The whole thing hummed with lethal voltage. No ladder. No fire escape. No other way up without circling three blocks and losing precious time.
Glitz stared at the deadly obstacle, chest rising and falling under her cyan-pom-pom crop top. “Fuck. That’s the only path.”
Glam’s gloved hand tightened around her sister’s. “We could scout another route—”
“Too slow,” Glitz cut in, voice cracking with frustration. “We don’t have time. We owe that money. We have no choice.” Her usual manic laugh came out shaky. “We’re the biggest bitches around, right? We don’t back down from a little electricity.”
Glam’s stoic mask flickered with genuine unease—the rare crack in her armor that only Glitz ever saw. “I have a bad feeling, Glitz. This thing could fry us.”
Glitz spun, cupping her sister’s face with both hands, black-and-cyan nails gentle against pale cheeks. “Then we fry together, baby. Like always.”
Their lips crashed together in a wet, deep, desperate kiss—tongues sliding, black lipstick smearing, bodies pressing tight. Glitz’s hips rolled forward instinctively; Glam’s detached sleeve fluttered as she gripped her twin’s waist. For three heartbeats the world vanished—only the taste of each other, the heat, the promise that whatever happened next they faced it as one. When they broke apart, both were breathing hard, eyes glowing with that unbreakable twin fire.
“No other way,” Glam whispered against her sister’s mouth.
“No other way,” Glitz agreed. “Let’s dance.”
They moved like the acrobatic goddesses they were. Glitz went first, vaulting the fence with a handspring that kept her body arched high above the first live wires. Her long legs split in a perfect aerial split, thigh-high tights stretching, seafoam skirt flaring as she twisted mid-air to avoid a spitting cable. Glam followed instantly—fluid, precise—her jester-collar skirt fluttering as she cartwheeled over the humming transformer box, detached sleeve whipping like a banner. They used every ounce of their trapeze-honed flexibility: bodies bending backward in impossible bridges, legs scissoring around sparking conduits, fingertips grazing metal without touching. Sparks danced inches from their skin. The air smelled of ozone and sea salt. Glitz laughed breathlessly the whole time, the sound edged with fear and thrill. Glam’s face stayed focused, lips tight, but her eyes burned with love and adrenaline.
They were almost there—fingers brushing the windowsill, safety just inches away—when the sky ripped open.
A single black thundercloud had rolled in unnoticed. A deafening CRACK split the night. White-hot lightning stabbed down from the heavens and struck the transformer dead-center.
Millions of volts surged through the ancient box.
The current exploded outward in a blinding blue-white web.
It hit Glitz and Glam simultaneously.
Their screams tore through the alley—raw, agonized, beautiful. Every muscle locked. Their bodies jerked violently, backs arching, toes pointing in their stilettos as the electricity flooded their nervous systems. Hair whipped wildly—teal and navy strands lifting as if underwater. Their vivid cyan-teal contact-lensed eyes flared brighter than the lightning itself. They rose off the ground, floating in mid-air, limbs spread, spines bowed in exquisite torment and ecstasy. Power—raw, impossible, godlike—poured into them. Their skin tingled, then burned, then sang. Muscles twitched and tightened under their outfits. A strange, intoxicating heat bloomed deep in their cores, spreading outward like liquid fire. Something inside them was waking up. Changing. Growing.
The transformer exploded in a shower of sparks behind them, but the sisters barely heard it. They hung suspended, bodies glowing with inner light, transformation already rewriting every cell as the storm roared overhead.
What do the Glam Sisters become?
1. They emerge as breathtaking, sexy, sensual feminine bikini-models—taller, more voluptuous, with flawless hourglass figures, sun-kissed skin, and an aura of irresistible seduction. Their minds sharpen to genius-level intelligence while their bodies gain superhuman strength and crackling electric-based superpowers (lightning bolts from fingertips, electromagnetic levitation, stunning shocks). Their extravagant hair turns shimmering silver-white, and each gains a glowing lightning-bolt tattoo on her upper arm that pulses with power. They feel unstoppable, more beautiful and superior than ever.
2. They erupt into 20-foot-tall giantess bodybuilders—massive, hyper-muscular, vein-popping physiques of pure feminine power, towering over the boardwalk with thighs thicker than cars and biceps that could crush steel. Electric-based superpowers surge through their colossal frames (chain-lightning blasts, thunderclap punches, energy absorption). Their hair stays teal but crackles with live electricity. The sheer size and strength flood them with euphoric dominance; the world now literally looks up to them.
Glitz’s cyan-teal eyes flashed with manic hunger. “Half an hour, minimum,” she breathed, voice husky with adrenaline. “We take it. Right now.”
Glam’s darker gaze narrowed, calculating. The dwindling hotel money burned in her mind like acid. “We’re the Glam Sisters. We don’t wait for handouts.”
They slipped off the main planks in perfect sync, hips rolling with that same sensual, predatory stride even under pressure. Their extravagant teal-and-navy ponytails swayed like battle flags—Glitz’s spiked mohawk bangs catching the first droplets of incoming rain, Glam’s straight bangs slicing across her cool, furious face. Black lips pressed into determined lines. Long, manicured nails flexed inside their gloves. Every step screamed confidence, but underneath it was raw desperation—the same desperation that had turned their usual smug bickering into something sharper, more emotional, more dangerous.
Behind the building stretched a narrow, trash-strewn alley reeking of salt and rust. Their stilettos clicked softly as they crept along the chain-link fence until they found it: the only route to the second-floor window. An ancient electrical transformer box squatted against the wall like a sleeping monster, its metal casing corroded, doors half-off, thick cables and exposed copper wires spilling out in a deadly tangle. Sparks popped and hissed every few seconds. The whole thing hummed with lethal voltage. No ladder. No fire escape. No other way up without circling three blocks and losing precious time.
Glitz stared at the deadly obstacle, chest rising and falling under her cyan-pom-pom crop top. “Fuck. That’s the only path.”
Glam’s gloved hand tightened around her sister’s. “We could scout another route—”
“Too slow,” Glitz cut in, voice cracking with frustration. “We don’t have time. We owe that money. We have no choice.” Her usual manic laugh came out shaky. “We’re the biggest bitches around, right? We don’t back down from a little electricity.”
Glam’s stoic mask flickered with genuine unease—the rare crack in her armor that only Glitz ever saw. “I have a bad feeling, Glitz. This thing could fry us.”
Glitz spun, cupping her sister’s face with both hands, black-and-cyan nails gentle against pale cheeks. “Then we fry together, baby. Like always.”
Their lips crashed together in a wet, deep, desperate kiss—tongues sliding, black lipstick smearing, bodies pressing tight. Glitz’s hips rolled forward instinctively; Glam’s detached sleeve fluttered as she gripped her twin’s waist. For three heartbeats the world vanished—only the taste of each other, the heat, the promise that whatever happened next they faced it as one. When they broke apart, both were breathing hard, eyes glowing with that unbreakable twin fire.
“No other way,” Glam whispered against her sister’s mouth.
“No other way,” Glitz agreed. “Let’s dance.”
They moved like the acrobatic goddesses they were. Glitz went first, vaulting the fence with a handspring that kept her body arched high above the first live wires. Her long legs split in a perfect aerial split, thigh-high tights stretching, seafoam skirt flaring as she twisted mid-air to avoid a spitting cable. Glam followed instantly—fluid, precise—her jester-collar skirt fluttering as she cartwheeled over the humming transformer box, detached sleeve whipping like a banner. They used every ounce of their trapeze-honed flexibility: bodies bending backward in impossible bridges, legs scissoring around sparking conduits, fingertips grazing metal without touching. Sparks danced inches from their skin. The air smelled of ozone and sea salt. Glitz laughed breathlessly the whole time, the sound edged with fear and thrill. Glam’s face stayed focused, lips tight, but her eyes burned with love and adrenaline.
They were almost there—fingers brushing the windowsill, safety just inches away—when the sky ripped open.
A single black thundercloud had rolled in unnoticed. A deafening CRACK split the night. White-hot lightning stabbed down from the heavens and struck the transformer dead-center.
Millions of volts surged through the ancient box.
The current exploded outward in a blinding blue-white web.
It hit Glitz and Glam simultaneously.
Their screams tore through the alley—raw, agonized, beautiful. Every muscle locked. Their bodies jerked violently, backs arching, toes pointing in their stilettos as the electricity flooded their nervous systems. Hair whipped wildly—teal and navy strands lifting as if underwater. Their vivid cyan-teal contact-lensed eyes flared brighter than the lightning itself. They rose off the ground, floating in mid-air, limbs spread, spines bowed in exquisite torment and ecstasy. Power—raw, impossible, godlike—poured into them. Their skin tingled, then burned, then sang. Muscles twitched and tightened under their outfits. A strange, intoxicating heat bloomed deep in their cores, spreading outward like liquid fire. Something inside them was waking up. Changing. Growing.
The transformer exploded in a shower of sparks behind them, but the sisters barely heard it. They hung suspended, bodies glowing with inner light, transformation already rewriting every cell as the storm roared overhead.
What do the Glam Sisters become?
1. They emerge as breathtaking, sexy, sensual feminine bikini-models—taller, more voluptuous, with flawless hourglass figures, sun-kissed skin, and an aura of irresistible seduction. Their minds sharpen to genius-level intelligence while their bodies gain superhuman strength and crackling electric-based superpowers (lightning bolts from fingertips, electromagnetic levitation, stunning shocks). Their extravagant hair turns shimmering silver-white, and each gains a glowing lightning-bolt tattoo on her upper arm that pulses with power. They feel unstoppable, more beautiful and superior than ever.
2. They erupt into 20-foot-tall giantess bodybuilders—massive, hyper-muscular, vein-popping physiques of pure feminine power, towering over the boardwalk with thighs thicker than cars and biceps that could crush steel. Electric-based superpowers surge through their colossal frames (chain-lightning blasts, thunderclap punches, energy absorption). Their hair stays teal but crackles with live electricity. The sheer size and strength flood them with euphoric dominance; the world now literally looks up to them.
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June 13
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