Testing his new body
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 9
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Vox stood alone in the devastated forest, seven feet of sculpted, invulnerable perfection. His silver-streaked mane clung to sweat-slicked shoulders, blue halo pulsing with residual power. Thick pectorals rose and fell with each heavy breath, deep-cut abs glistening under the moonlight, every ridge and vein glowing faintly electric blue. Between his powerful thighs, his massive cock hung heavy and still half-hard, the head glistening with leftover beads of glowing blue precum that slowly dripped onto the scorched and frozen earth.
The fight with Alastor had left him buzzing—frustrated, horny, and alive in a way he had never felt before. The smug radio bastard had vanished into the smoke and wreckage, but Vox wasn’t ready to chase him yet. Not when this new body demanded attention.
“Fine,” Vox growled, voice deeper and richer than before, vibrating through the ruined trees. “Let’s see what I can really do.”
He started slow. With casual super strength, he reached out and wrapped one massive hand around the trunk of a thick pine that had somehow survived the chaos. Muscles rippling across his chest and arms, he yanked upward. The tree tore free from the ground with a deep groan of earth and roots, dirt cascading like water. Vox laughed—a low, resonant sound—and bent the entire trunk over his knee like it was a flimsy plastic straw. Wood splintered satisfyingly. He tossed the ruined tree aside and did it again with another, then another, uprooting and snapping them one after another until a fresh clearing formed around him.
His cock twitched and thickened at the display of raw power, rising steadily until it stood proud and throbbing against his ridged abs, the blue veins along the shaft pulsing brighter.
Vox took to the air next. With a thought, he launched upward, flying in lazy loops above the destruction. The wind whipped through his long hair as he tested new angles—hovering upside-down, spinning slowly while his massive erection bobbed heavily with gravity. He wrapped one glowing hand around his cock and stroked slowly, super senses amplifying every sensation: the velvet-smooth skin sliding over steel hardness, the slick sound of precum being spread, the electric tingle that shot straight to his balls.
He experimented further. Narrowing his eyes, Vox fired controlled, low-intensity laser beams from his gaze, aiming them at his own chest. The thin blue beams warmed his skin to a delicious heat without burning, making his nipples tighten and throb. He dragged the beams lower, tracing glowing lines down his abs and along the underside of his cock. The heat made his shaft jump and leak heavier streams of blue fluid that splattered onto the ground far below.
Then came the breath play. Vox inhaled deeply and exhaled a blast of super-heated breath across his own throbbing length. The warm gust felt like a lover’s mouth, making him groan loudly. Switching to cold breath, he blasted an arctic stream directly onto the swollen head. The sudden freezing shock against burning-hot flesh made his knees buckle mid-air. “Fuuuuck…” he rasped, voice echoing through the empty forest. Pleasure spiked hard. He alternated—hot breath warming and teasing, cold breath shocking and tightening the skin—until his cock was hypersensitive and drooling nonstop.
Flying higher, Vox gripped himself with both hands, using super speed to blur his strokes into a vibrating frenzy while continuing the temperature play with targeted breaths. His balls drew up tight, heavy and full. The orgasm hit like a supernova.
“Shit—Alastor, you bastard—”
His spine arched violently in the air. Thick ropes of electric-blue cum erupted from his cock in powerful, arcing jets that splattered across the ruined landscape below—coating shattered trees, frozen patches, and scorched craters in glowing, sizzling streaks. Spurt after spurt, each one stronger than the last, until the ground looked like it had been painted by some obscene cosmic artist. The scent of ozone and sex thickened the air. Vox kept stroking through it, milking every last drop while his body shuddered with aftershocks.
He floated back down, landing heavily in the middle of his own mess, boots cracking through a fresh sheet of ice. Chest heaving, muscles gleaming with fresh sweat, cock still twitching and leaking weaker spurts, Vox felt godlike. Invulnerable. Unstoppable.
But as the high faded, his mind—always sharp, always scheming—began to turn.
He looked down at his perfect hands, then out toward the distant glittering lights of Havenridge. Banks. Vaults. Security systems that meant nothing to someone who could move at super speed, see through walls with enhanced vision, and punch through steel like paper. With these powers, he could slip in and out of any bank undetected. No cameras would catch him. No guards could stop him. He could drain accounts, crack open vaults, and funnel millions into shell companies or offshore holdings without anyone ever tracing it back to Vincent “Vox” Whittman.
The money would be untraceable. Clean enough for legitimate investors to believe his “genius” had finally paid off.
A wicked grin split his face, sharp and predatory. “Vox Network,” he murmured, tasting the words. “No more begging suits for scraps. No more petty cash. I’ll fund the entire empire myself. Studios, satellites, prime-time slots—everything. And when it’s built, I’ll sit at the top while the world watches my face every night.”
Alastor’s taunting voice still echoed faintly in his memory, but Vox pushed it aside for now. The rivalry could wait. First, he would secure his future. Undeserved? Maybe. But with this power, nothing was undeserved anymore. Everything was his for the taking.
Vox launched into the sky again, flying low and fast toward the city, blue halo dimmed to avoid attention. His super senses scanned the sleeping metropolis below—pinpointing the largest banks, mapping security layouts in seconds with his enhanced vision. A quiet thrill ran through him. Tonight, he would begin. Small at first. Test the limits. Then scale up. By morning, he would have the seed money. Within weeks, the foundation for his broadcast empire.
The god had awakened. And he was done playing by mortal rules.
1. Vox begins his secret bank heists that same night.
Using super speed and flight, Vox infiltrates the first major bank in Havenridge under cover of darkness. He phases through reinforced walls with raw strength, uses laser eyes to silently cut through vault doors, and employs super senses to avoid every guard and camera. He drains millions in untraceable cash and digital transfers into hidden accounts. The power rush of effortless crime makes him unbearably horny again; he strokes himself to a massive glowing orgasm inside the empty vault, painting the walls with blue cum before vanishing without a trace. Over the next few nights he repeats the process across multiple banks, rapidly building his war chest while his body grows even more addicted to the thrill and the power.
2. Vox Decides to use his body, beauty and sexuality to obtain the funding to his office and immediately starts planning the launch of Vox Network using his new secret funds.
Flying back to his penthouse office under the cover of night, Vox organiz meeting with rich people, entices them to fund his media network.
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June 13
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