Vox's Bank-Busting Bonanza
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 10
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Vox hovered silently above the glittering skyline of Havenridge, his seven-foot frame of sculpted perfection cutting through the night like a living neon sign. The blue halo around his head was dialed down to a faint shimmer, just enough to make his silver-streaked mane glow softly. His massive pectorals flexed with every controlled breath, deep eight-pack abs rippling under pale skin traced with glowing blue veins. Between his thick, powerful thighs, his heavy cock already stirred at the mere thought of what he was about to do—thick, veined, and leaking a single glowing blue bead that caught the city lights before dripping away into the wind.
“Time to make some withdrawals,” he muttered with a comically smug grin, sharp teeth flashing. “The old-fashioned way. With god powers.”
He dropped like a shadow, super speed turning him into a blue blur that no human eye could follow. The first target: Havenridge National Bank, a towering marble fortress in the financial district. Guards patrolled the perimeter, cameras swept every angle, reinforced vaults sat buried behind layers of steel and concrete. All of it was laughably obsolete now.
Vox landed on the roof without a sound. With casual super strength, he gripped the edge of a massive air-conditioning unit and ripped it free, tossing it gently aside like an empty soda can. He pressed one glowing hand against the roof and pushed. Concrete and rebar crumpled like wet paper, creating a perfect, silent hole. Dropping inside, he moved at super speed through darkened hallways, his enhanced senses painting the world in crystal clarity: he could hear every heartbeat of the three night guards two floors down, smell the faint trace of cheap coffee on their breath, see the faint heat signatures through walls.
None of them noticed the god in their midst.
Reaching the main vault, Vox narrowed his eyes and fired low-intensity laser vision. Twin blue beams sliced through the thick steel door like a hot knife through butter, carving a man-sized opening without triggering a single alarm. He stepped through the molten-edged hole, invulnerable skin untouched by the heat. Inside, rows of safe deposit boxes and cash carts awaited.
“Jackpot,” he purred, voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
Using super strength, he tore open the heavy vault doors one by one, stacking bundles of cash and high-denomination bearer bonds into neat piles faster than any human could blink. Millions vanished into the duffel bags he’d swiped from a nearby sporting goods store mid-flight. For the digital side, he used his super senses and lightning-fast thinking to access the bank’s internal systems—fingers blurring across keyboards at super speed, rerouting funds through a dozen anonymous offshore accounts he set up in seconds using memorized passwords and stolen credentials from earlier “research.”
The thrill hit him hard. Power. Control. Money flowing into his empire without a single suit telling him “no.” His cock responded instantly, swelling thick and heavy against his abs, the head smearing glowing blue precum across his ridged stomach with every movement. By the time the bags were full—easily twenty million in untraceable assets—Vox was rock-hard and throbbing, veins pulsing electric blue along the massive shaft.
“Fuck… this feels better than ratings,” he groaned, leaning back against a stack of cash.
Unable to resist, he wrapped one massive hand around his cock and started stroking, super speed turning the motion into a vibrating blur. His free hand fired gentle laser beams at his own chest, warming his sensitive nipples until they peaked hard. Then he switched to cold breath, blasting an icy stream directly onto his leaking cockhead. The temperature contrast made his knees buckle. “Shit—yes—”
He alternated hot super breath and freezing cold breath while his hand flew, muscles flexing obscenely—biceps peaking like mountains, pecs bouncing with every stroke. The orgasm built fast and brutal. Vox threw his head back, silver mane whipping, and unleashed.
Thick, glowing ropes of electric-blue cum erupted in powerful arcs, splattering across the vault walls, cash carts, and steel doors in messy, sizzling streaks. Spurt after heavy spurt painted the scene in obscene glowing blue, the scent of ozone and sex filling the sealed room. He kept stroking through it, milking every drop while his body shuddered with godlike pleasure.
When it finally ebbed, Vox wiped a stray bead from his abs with one claw, licked it clean with a satisfied smirk, and zipped the duffel bags. “Clean enough,” he chuckled. No fingerprints. No DNA that could survive his invulnerable healing. No trace.
He flew out the same way he came, sealing the roof hole behind him with a casual press of super strength and melting the edges smooth with laser eyes. The bank looked untouched from the outside. By morning, the discrepancy would be noticed, but nothing would point to Vincent Whittman.
Over the next few nights, Vox repeated the process with gleeful efficiency. Bank Two: a sleek glass skyscraper—same routine, bigger haul. Bank Three: an old-fashioned vault in the historic district—ripped open like a tin can while he jerked off mid-heist, painting the gold bars with glowing blue. Each successful raid made him smugger, hornier, and richer. His secret accounts swelled into the hundreds of millions. Studios could be bought. Satellites launched. Talent poached. Vox Network was no longer a dream—it was inevitable.
On the fifth night, floating above the city with another duffel of cash slung over one broad shoulder, cock still twitching from his latest vault orgasm, Vox laughed out loud. “Alastor, wherever you are… enjoy your little radio show while it lasts. The Voice of Truth is about to get drowned out by the real star.”
He was untouchable. Untraceable. And just getting started.
You have the following choices:
1. Vox uses his growing fortune to aggressively launch Vox Network while secretly continuing the heists.
With hundreds of millions secured, Vox returns to his office and begins making moves: anonymously acquiring studio space, hiring top talent away from competitors, and setting up a sleek modern broadcast headquarters. He keeps the bank robberies going on the side for “insurance money,” each heist ending with a messy, glowing orgasm that leaves him more addicted to the power rush. But his super senses start picking up strange pink energy signatures around the city—Alastor is back, testing his own powers in public and drawing media attention. Vox decides it’s time for a “friendly” reunion, leading to a high-stakes aerial chase and destructive mid-air makeout session above the new network headquarters.
2. Vox decides to test the limits of his powers during a bigger, riskier heist at the city’s central federal reserve branch.
Emboldened by success, Vox targets the most secure bank in Havenridge for the ultimate score. He uses every superpower—super speed to dodge laser grids, flight to reach the deepest vaults, laser eyes to melt through titanium, and super senses to map every security measure. The sheer scale of the money and danger makes the power high overwhelming; he ends up stroking himself furiously inside the main vault surrounded by billions, alternating hot and cold breath play while fantasizing about dominating both the financial world and Alastor. But something goes slightly wrong—Alastor’s familiar pink glow appears on his super senses right as Vox is mid-orgasm, forcing an unexpected (and very messy) confrontation between the two powered rivals inside the vault.
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June 13
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