Power hungry
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 10
by
copier
· original author:
an188
The rooftop gravel bit into their perfect daphne-blue skin like cheap sandpaper, but Glitz and Glam were too wiped to care. Their silver hair fanned out in messy halos, six-foot frames sprawled like discarded pin-up posters after the world’s hottest photoshoot. Breasts heaved with shallow breaths, abs still carved but trembling, thighs thick and powerful now feeling like overcooked noodles. The side bags of stolen diamonds lay forgotten beside them.
“Fuck… me…” Glitz slurred, voice weak and raspy.
“Shut up… and sleep…” Glam muttered back, already sinking.
Against their will, exhaustion dragged them under. Deep, dreamless, black-hole sleep. No power. No sparks. Just two drained goddesses out cold under the rising sun.
Morning light slapped them awake like a cheap insult.
Glitz’s electric-blue eyes cracked open first. Everything felt… hollow. No buzz in her veins, no lightning under her skin. Just heavy, aching emptiness. “Oh you absolute bitch of a morning,” she groaned, voice thin and exhausted. “I feel like I got fucked by a truck and the truck ghosted me after.”
Glam stirred beside her, silver ponytail matted with gravel dust. “Same. My tits weigh a thousand pounds and my legs are on strike. What the actual fuck happened to us, Glitz? We were literal goddesses last night.”
They tried to stand. Glitz pushed up on shaky arms—collapsed. Glam rolled to her knees—immediately face-planted again with a muffled “Ow, my perfect face.” The sun warmed their skin, slow and teasing, like it was mocking them. After five pathetic minutes of crawling and cursing, they finally staggered upright, leaning on each other like drunk sorority girls after last call.
“Door,” Glam wheezed, pointing. “Before someone sees two blue supermodels cosplaying as zombies.”
Glitz reached the metal roof-access door first. Out of habit she grabbed the handle and yanked like she was ripping a safe apart. Nothing. The knob barely turned. She stared at her own hand in betrayed shock. “What the—? Where the fuck did my super strength go? I could bend rebar last night and now I can’t even open a goddamn door? This is some next-level cosmic blue-balling!”
She finally twisted it with both hands, grunting like she was giving birth. The door creaked open. They stumbled down the stairs, every step a comedy of wobbling hips and jiggling breasts threatening to burst the already-strained crop tops.
“Electricity… poof,” Glitz panted, clutching the railing. “Gone. My lightning fingers are deader than Rolando’s personality. This is so embarrassing. We’re supposed to be unstoppable bitches, not… this.”
Glam leaned against the wall, chest heaving. “Speak for yourself, darling. I feel like a used battery. And we’ve got diamonds worth a fortune in these bags but zero walking-around cash. Guess who’s crawling back to that roach motel?”
The realization hit them both on the sidewalk like a slap from reality. Weak. Tired. Exhausted. No super-jumps, no lightning blasts, just two shaky, too-sexy-for-this-shit girls in painted-on outfits that screamed “we had a wild night.”
“Rolando’s it is,” Glam sighed, sarcastic as ever. “He’ll charge double for that little hand-crushing stunt you pulled. Triple if he’s feeling petty.”
Glitz flipped her silver hair dramatically even though it took effort. “Let him. We’ll pay, rest, sell the rocks, and bounce to penthouse life before he can say ‘comb-over.’”
They were too drained to drive or walk. Glitz flagged a taxi with a limp wrist. The driver kept sneaking glances in the mirror at their blue skin and bulging outfits but wisely kept his mouth shut.
The One Star Wonder lobby smelled exactly like failure. Rolando lounged behind the counter, hand in a fresh cast, unibrow arched in pure contempt. His comb-over tuft quivered with evil amusement as he took in their exhausted, stumbling entrance.
“Well, well,” he sneered, voice oily and vengeful. “If it isn’t the blue freaks who thought they were hot shit yesterday. Look at you two—drunk, drugged, or just fucked stupid? Either way, payback’s a bitch with a cast.”
Glitz and Glam were too tired to snap back. Glitz just dumped the entire duffel of yesterday’s cash on the counter—every last bill—before he could even open his mouth about double or triple rent.
Rolando’s greedy eyes lit up like Christmas. He snatched the money, counted it with one good hand, and tossed them a key. “Your old room’s closed for renovations. All the electrical systems mysteriously burned out last night. Funny how that happens. New room, end of the hall. Try not to break any more bones, princesses.”
They dragged themselves into the elevator, then down the hallway, collapsing onto the two sad sofas in the center of the dingy new room the second the door shut. Twin groans escaped their lips.
“Fuck me sideways,” Glitz whined, sprawled dramatically, one long leg dangling off the couch. “I feel… hungry. But not for food. It’s like my whole body is screaming for something and I don’t even know what the fuck it is.”
Glam rubbed her temples, silver hair spilling everywhere. “Same. Weird electric hunger. No doctor, obviously. We can’t let anyone poke at this transformation. It’s our ticket to money, power, and making every basic bitch in Havenridge cry. We just… have to figure out why we went from ‘unstoppable’ to ‘pathetic’ overnight.”
Glam waved a limp hand. “Glitz, remote’s next to you. Turn the TV on. I need background noise while I plot how to never feel this weak again.”
Glitz grabbed the remote, clicked it. Dead. She popped the back open with a tired nail and touched the two batteries—plus and minus terminals at once.
A sudden surge ripped through her fingers.
“Ooohhh fuuuck…” she moaned, low and filthy, body arching on the sofa like she’d just been fingered by lightning itself. Energy flooded her veins. Color rushed back into her daphne-blue cheeks.
Glam’s eyes widened. “What the hell just happened? You look… alive again.”
Glitz touched the second battery. Another delicious jolt. “Nnnngh—yes, baby!” She jumped to her feet, stretching her shapely, muscular body with a satisfied purr, abs flexing, breasts bouncing. “I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I feel… energetic. Still a little weak, but way better.”
She tried the TV again. Still dead. “Ugh, batteries are toast.” She wandered to the TV, bent over to check the back cables—perfect ass presented like an invitation—and accidentally brushed a bare wire.
Electricity slammed into her palm.
Her eyes rolled back. Tongue lolled out. “Splurge!”
A thick rope of glowing electric blue-green cum jetted down her thighs.
“Spluurge!”
Another powerful spurt soaked the carpet.
“Spluuurge!”
The final gush left her screaming in pure ecstasy as the room lights flickered and died.
The exhaustion? Gone. Weakness? Evaporated. She felt strong again—biceps flexing, lightning tattoo pulsing.
Glitz spun, eyes wide and horny. “Holy shit, Glam… I think our bodies run on electricity. Like actual goddamn batteries.”
Glam stared in shock, then hungry realization. Glitz grabbed a fresh battery from the remote and pressed it to her sister’s lips. “Suck, baby.”
Glam wrapped her black lips around it and drew. Energy poured in. The battery crumpled inward like an empty soda can. She gasped, color flooding back. “More.”
Glitz fed her another, then another. Glam drank greedily, moaning between swallows, body lighting up with every jolt.
Out in the hallway they suddenly heard Rolando yelling at the maintenance guy: “The whole damn floor’s electrical system is fried again! What the hell is wrong with this shithole?!”
And just like that—the power snapped back on.
The sisters locked eyes, wicked smirks spreading across their faces.
What do the Glam Sisters do next?
1. They decide to stay in the room and try to absorb electricity straight from the hotel’s electrical system—sucking outlets, playing with wires, seeing just how much they can drain before anyone notices.
2. They realize the hotel’s crappy wiring will attract too much attention if they keep frying it, so they sneak out to buy a huge stash of batteries and power banks to charge themselves properly and stay under the radar.
“Fuck… me…” Glitz slurred, voice weak and raspy.
“Shut up… and sleep…” Glam muttered back, already sinking.
Against their will, exhaustion dragged them under. Deep, dreamless, black-hole sleep. No power. No sparks. Just two drained goddesses out cold under the rising sun.
Morning light slapped them awake like a cheap insult.
Glitz’s electric-blue eyes cracked open first. Everything felt… hollow. No buzz in her veins, no lightning under her skin. Just heavy, aching emptiness. “Oh you absolute bitch of a morning,” she groaned, voice thin and exhausted. “I feel like I got fucked by a truck and the truck ghosted me after.”
Glam stirred beside her, silver ponytail matted with gravel dust. “Same. My tits weigh a thousand pounds and my legs are on strike. What the actual fuck happened to us, Glitz? We were literal goddesses last night.”
They tried to stand. Glitz pushed up on shaky arms—collapsed. Glam rolled to her knees—immediately face-planted again with a muffled “Ow, my perfect face.” The sun warmed their skin, slow and teasing, like it was mocking them. After five pathetic minutes of crawling and cursing, they finally staggered upright, leaning on each other like drunk sorority girls after last call.
“Door,” Glam wheezed, pointing. “Before someone sees two blue supermodels cosplaying as zombies.”
Glitz reached the metal roof-access door first. Out of habit she grabbed the handle and yanked like she was ripping a safe apart. Nothing. The knob barely turned. She stared at her own hand in betrayed shock. “What the—? Where the fuck did my super strength go? I could bend rebar last night and now I can’t even open a goddamn door? This is some next-level cosmic blue-balling!”
She finally twisted it with both hands, grunting like she was giving birth. The door creaked open. They stumbled down the stairs, every step a comedy of wobbling hips and jiggling breasts threatening to burst the already-strained crop tops.
“Electricity… poof,” Glitz panted, clutching the railing. “Gone. My lightning fingers are deader than Rolando’s personality. This is so embarrassing. We’re supposed to be unstoppable bitches, not… this.”
Glam leaned against the wall, chest heaving. “Speak for yourself, darling. I feel like a used battery. And we’ve got diamonds worth a fortune in these bags but zero walking-around cash. Guess who’s crawling back to that roach motel?”
The realization hit them both on the sidewalk like a slap from reality. Weak. Tired. Exhausted. No super-jumps, no lightning blasts, just two shaky, too-sexy-for-this-shit girls in painted-on outfits that screamed “we had a wild night.”
“Rolando’s it is,” Glam sighed, sarcastic as ever. “He’ll charge double for that little hand-crushing stunt you pulled. Triple if he’s feeling petty.”
Glitz flipped her silver hair dramatically even though it took effort. “Let him. We’ll pay, rest, sell the rocks, and bounce to penthouse life before he can say ‘comb-over.’”
They were too drained to drive or walk. Glitz flagged a taxi with a limp wrist. The driver kept sneaking glances in the mirror at their blue skin and bulging outfits but wisely kept his mouth shut.
The One Star Wonder lobby smelled exactly like failure. Rolando lounged behind the counter, hand in a fresh cast, unibrow arched in pure contempt. His comb-over tuft quivered with evil amusement as he took in their exhausted, stumbling entrance.
“Well, well,” he sneered, voice oily and vengeful. “If it isn’t the blue freaks who thought they were hot shit yesterday. Look at you two—drunk, drugged, or just fucked stupid? Either way, payback’s a bitch with a cast.”
Glitz and Glam were too tired to snap back. Glitz just dumped the entire duffel of yesterday’s cash on the counter—every last bill—before he could even open his mouth about double or triple rent.
Rolando’s greedy eyes lit up like Christmas. He snatched the money, counted it with one good hand, and tossed them a key. “Your old room’s closed for renovations. All the electrical systems mysteriously burned out last night. Funny how that happens. New room, end of the hall. Try not to break any more bones, princesses.”
They dragged themselves into the elevator, then down the hallway, collapsing onto the two sad sofas in the center of the dingy new room the second the door shut. Twin groans escaped their lips.
“Fuck me sideways,” Glitz whined, sprawled dramatically, one long leg dangling off the couch. “I feel… hungry. But not for food. It’s like my whole body is screaming for something and I don’t even know what the fuck it is.”
Glam rubbed her temples, silver hair spilling everywhere. “Same. Weird electric hunger. No doctor, obviously. We can’t let anyone poke at this transformation. It’s our ticket to money, power, and making every basic bitch in Havenridge cry. We just… have to figure out why we went from ‘unstoppable’ to ‘pathetic’ overnight.”
Glam waved a limp hand. “Glitz, remote’s next to you. Turn the TV on. I need background noise while I plot how to never feel this weak again.”
Glitz grabbed the remote, clicked it. Dead. She popped the back open with a tired nail and touched the two batteries—plus and minus terminals at once.
A sudden surge ripped through her fingers.
“Ooohhh fuuuck…” she moaned, low and filthy, body arching on the sofa like she’d just been fingered by lightning itself. Energy flooded her veins. Color rushed back into her daphne-blue cheeks.
Glam’s eyes widened. “What the hell just happened? You look… alive again.”
Glitz touched the second battery. Another delicious jolt. “Nnnngh—yes, baby!” She jumped to her feet, stretching her shapely, muscular body with a satisfied purr, abs flexing, breasts bouncing. “I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I feel… energetic. Still a little weak, but way better.”
She tried the TV again. Still dead. “Ugh, batteries are toast.” She wandered to the TV, bent over to check the back cables—perfect ass presented like an invitation—and accidentally brushed a bare wire.
Electricity slammed into her palm.
Her eyes rolled back. Tongue lolled out. “Splurge!”
A thick rope of glowing electric blue-green cum jetted down her thighs.
“Spluurge!”
Another powerful spurt soaked the carpet.
“Spluuurge!”
The final gush left her screaming in pure ecstasy as the room lights flickered and died.
The exhaustion? Gone. Weakness? Evaporated. She felt strong again—biceps flexing, lightning tattoo pulsing.
Glitz spun, eyes wide and horny. “Holy shit, Glam… I think our bodies run on electricity. Like actual goddamn batteries.”
Glam stared in shock, then hungry realization. Glitz grabbed a fresh battery from the remote and pressed it to her sister’s lips. “Suck, baby.”
Glam wrapped her black lips around it and drew. Energy poured in. The battery crumpled inward like an empty soda can. She gasped, color flooding back. “More.”
Glitz fed her another, then another. Glam drank greedily, moaning between swallows, body lighting up with every jolt.
Out in the hallway they suddenly heard Rolando yelling at the maintenance guy: “The whole damn floor’s electrical system is fried again! What the hell is wrong with this shithole?!”
And just like that—the power snapped back on.
The sisters locked eyes, wicked smirks spreading across their faces.
What do the Glam Sisters do next?
1. They decide to stay in the room and try to absorb electricity straight from the hotel’s electrical system—sucking outlets, playing with wires, seeing just how much they can drain before anyone notices.
2. They realize the hotel’s crappy wiring will attract too much attention if they keep frying it, so they sneak out to buy a huge stash of batteries and power banks to charge themselves properly and stay under the radar.
13 views
·
June 13
Log in to comment