Shoutout to Fabricio and Jacob, both legends.
And a special thanks to Jacob for going all in on the highest tier. That one wasn't even meant to be subscribed to (it was just my storage tier, priced high), but you did it anyway. For that, you've earned two bonus chapters as thanks. Respect, king.
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I walked towards System, grabbing her waist, fingers pressing into the curve. "You deserve a reward."
[System]: Mmm~ baby, you say that like I didn't rig the XP count just to get my thighs noticed.
I spun her, pinned her against the hologram table. Her ass hit the edge, and she made a sound that peaked horny. I kissed her. Deep. Her tongue fought mine. Her hands went under my shirt, pulling it over my head, tossing it somewhere into the void.
She dropped to her knees without another word.
Her mouth wrapped around my cock like she had no gag reflex. Lips wet, tongue eager. She went slow first, then deeper. Her hand stroked the base while her other fondled my balls like she was downloading flavor files.
I grabbed the back of her head, pushing her down until her nose hit my stomach. She moaned around it. Vibration sent pulses through me. She pulled back, eyes locked on mine, then spit on the tip and started again.
"Take it deeper."
She did. Faster. She hollowed her cheeks, saliva pooling around the base as she gagged and kept going.
I pulled out, yanked her up by the arm. Her legs wrapped around me instantly. Her suit melted. Her body was exposed, nipples hard, thighs tight, cunt dripping.
I shoved her onto the table, spread her legs. She moaned as my fingers slid through her folds, teasing her entrance.
"Already soaked?"
"You make my ovaries explode."
I slammed in. Hard. She screamed. Legs wrapped around my waist. I held her thighs, thrusting fast. Each slap echoed through the dreamspace like corrupted data syncing with violence.
"You said you deserved it," I growled, slamming deeper.
She moaned louder. "Yes. Fuck me like you own me."
"I do own you." I flipped her. Bent her over the table. Her ass lifted, and I grabbed it, spreading her wide. I slammed back inside.
She came fast. Legs shaking. Voice cracked. I didn't stop. I kept thrusting, one hand on her back, the other grabbing her hair.
"You are going to take it all."
"Yes, fuck, I want to crash."
I grunted, drove deeper. Her pussy clenched, wet, tight, heat building again.
"Say it," I said, slapping her ass.
"I am yours," she moaned. "Fuck me like I am the last girl in the bunker and the world ends tomorrow."
I came hard. Buried deep. Filled her.
She gasped. Body locked. I pulled out, wiped myself on her inner thigh, left it there.
She collapsed on the table. Twitching. Smiling.
I snapped my fingers.
The suit appeared beside me. Full display. Hologram shimmered around the real structure.
Black. Matte. Seamless transitions. No logo. No red. No blue. This was not Peter Parker. This was the shadow under Peter Parker's bed.
"Mmm~ Project: Wraith is online. One bulletproof, stealth-enabled, Stark-scrambling suit of antihero excellence. You want to try it on?"
I reached for it.
The material gripped my skin like it knew me. It locked around my body without zips, without buttons. It flowed. Neck sealed with a soft hiss. Mask formed from the collar up. Vision cleared instantly. HUD flickered alive.
No face. No colors. Just void with eyes.
" Baby, you look like vengeance and hate sex had a child. I am dripping."
I turned to the mirror panel that rose from the floor.
The figure staring back?
"I like it," I said.
She walked up to me, still naked, still dripping with my cum. Her hands slid over my chest, fingers tracing the new suit like she wanted to memorize every line. Her breath hit my collar. "You are so sexy."
I tapped her forehead. "Enough for now."
She blinked. Backed up one step. Still smiled like I had just threatened to wreck her again. Probably would later. "Mmm~ post-nut confidence and full-body armor? I am ovulating in binary."
The table behind her lowered itself. Blueprints folded. Materials blinked out. Only the suit remained. Wrapped on me like a second skin. The interface fed me data every second. Body vitals. Motion paths. Environmental reads. Threat analysis. Even air quality.
I walked through the dreamspace. Floor shimmered with each step.
"Suit has a recall trigger?"
"Yes, sugar. Just clench your left fist twice and whisper 'come.'"
"I am not saying that."
"Then change the command. But don't come by accident during sex. Or it might pop in and slap your partner with a thigh holster."
"Set recall trigger to a wrist twist. Left wrist, ninety degrees inward, then flick."
"Registered. You make me so horny with tactical commands. It is hot."
The room shifted again. The white void darkened. Suit data locked in place. Material fully stored. Deployed for real-world integration.
"When you wake, you will have the physical suit. No illusions. Ready for deployment. Stored under inventory until called."
"Good."
"Wanna stay and dick me down for dessert? Or log out and go test your upgrades on someone less appreciative?"
"Log me out."
The dream dropped. I opened my eyes. My room. Night. No sound except a car alarm somewhere far off and the radiator trying to cough itself to death.
I removed the condom, filled, from my dick and threw it into the inventory. Imagine having to wear a condom just to go to sleep. That was my fate now. Not because of girls. Because of System. Dream-sex turned into wet dreams, wet dreams turned into real sex, and real sex turned into an orgasm that sometimes triggered unlocks. Lasting I wanted to make a mess on my bed... again...
I slipped out of the window to the roof, then twisted my wrist.
The suit blinked into place. Material slid across my skin like oil deciding to be armor. The HUD lit up with icons. Temp read clean. Air analysis ran. Street grid hovered in the corner, real-time spider pings dotting rooftops and alleys. I jumped to test grip.
No slide. No drag. The soles stuck without squelch. It was like walking with magnetized cats glued to my feet. Good start.
[System]: Mmm~ now that is what I call a fit check. Drip secured. Gotham is crying in the corner.
"Wrong universe."
[System]: Whatever. Let's go scare someone.
I sprinted. Roof to roof. The city below buzzed like a hive getting drunk. Sirens echoed two blocks over. My left eye feed flickered. Spider ping.
Northwest quadrant. Red mark. Possible breaking and entry.
"Show me."
The HUD zoomed in. Heat signature on the roof of a pharmacy. Two more on the fire escape. Movement patterns matched break-in behavior. Crouched. Fast shifts. Minimal noise. One held something shaped like bolt cutters. Another had a duffel. The third was an idle lookout.
I hit that roof thirty seconds later. Dropped from above. No sound. Just landed behind the first guy and knocked him out with a palm to the throat. Clean.
Second guy turned. Raised the cutters.
I took them. Bent the handles. Slammed his head into the vent beside him.
Third guy pulled a knife.
I caught his arm. Broke his wrist. Took the blade. Sliced the bag open. Nothing useful. Just pills and old cash. Painkillers mostly. Street resale garbage.
[System]: Weak haul. Street-level scrap. Want to toss it or tag it?
"Tag it. Let cops chase the leftovers."
[System]: Mmm~ fine. Dropping a dummy 911 ping with stolen coordinates. Police will find a guilt sandwich in twelve minutes.
I webbed the three of them to the rail.
The suit held fine. No heat buildup. No sound drag. Mask filter let me breathe in all this rooftop filth without tasting pigeon shit.
I took off again. Ran two blocks. Swung once for fun. Landed on a streetlamp and scanned the next grid. Spiders pinged a moving target near the pier. Small van. Unmarked. No plates. Heat signature inside showed four bodies. Two seated. One pacing. One laid flat.
[System]: Possible abduction. Want a closer look?
I was already jumping.
The van stopped behind a warehouse. One of the guys stepped out. Hoodie. Bald. Gun tucked in waistband like a dumbass. He smoked as he paced the alley. The back door opened. Another guy stepped out, pulling someone by the arm. She stumbled. Wrists bound.
Kid. Maybe seventeen.
I dropped onto the van.
[System]: Ohhh~ yes. Time for felony interruptus. Go ruin a trafficker's night.
I opened the back from above. Grabbed the arm guy and yanked him upward. He flew six feet. Hit the wall. Out cold.
Second guy spun. Gun drawn.
I dropped behind him. Grabbed his wrist. Dislocated. Took the gun. Sent it to the inventory. Kicked his knee inward. He screamed. Dropped.
The girl screamed too. I webbed her to the side gently. To keep her out of the line and shut her up.
Third guy jumped out the front. Knife in hand.
I threw a web at his face.
It hit with a thunk. He fell.
Fourth guy stayed in the driver's seat. Locked doors.
I opened the hood instead. Ripped a fistful of wires. Punched the engine block. Alarm tried to scream. I webbed the horn shut.
Then pulled the driver through the window and slammed him against the windshield. He passed out.
I cut the girl loose.
She backed away, eyes wide. Tried to ask something.
I held a finger to my mouth. She nodded.
[System]: Dispatch reroute set. Cops will find her with a sob story and a pile of unconscious dickbags. You want to leave a note?
"Nah," I said, turning from the girl, "did you get the recordings?"
[System]: Mmm~ every frame, sugar. From the van's first screech to the last grunt when you folded that dude like laundry. Triple angle, minimal shake, perfect lighting on the victim's face for max sympathy engagement.
"Good," I said, webbing the last guy to the side of the windshield. "Prep it for upload tomorrow. With the caption: 'Better than wasting your taxes feeding pigs donuts.'"
[System]: Mmm~ anti-authority sass with a side of street justice? Should I queue it for the rescue reel too?
"Yeah. Right before the fire escape drop clip. Keep it clean. Blur her face."
[System]: Already did. Your crypto wallet QR's stamped on the corner in grayscale, untraceable chain, no metadata, spoofed bounce paths through offshore servers. Donations incoming. I even added a little chime when people click. 'You just funded better justice than your mayor ever will.' Sound sexy?
I jumped to the roof, crouched near the ledge. "Make the QR auto-delete after 48 hours. Encrypt the logs. I want nothing in the trail if someone traces the source."
[System]: Baby, I am the trail. If someone sniffs this, all they get is a reroute through 43 inactive shell charities, one sex toy import company, and a dead grandma's cooking blog.
"Drop the link under a burner account. Use one of those righteous-sounding usernames. 'JusticeSight' or some corny shit. Make it sound edgy but pure enough not to scare off white girls with blue hair."
[System]: Got it. 'UrbanHalo420' is available.
"Use that. Dump the clip. Tag the location. Caption goes live at 6AM sharp. Peak engagement window."
[System]: Mmm~ this is the foreplay that makes me moan. Daddy vigilante marketing. Monetize that trauma. Exploit that pain. You are the Elon Musk of emotional warfare.
I webbed to the next building. Traffic buzzed below. Pigeons cooed nearby. One of my scout spiders pinged a drug stash in a laundromat two blocks over. I flagged it for later.
"Once the donations start, I want them filtered. Half to supply accounts. Other half split into micro-funds."
[System]: Mmm~ laundering that coin through rescue stories? You are the Kingpin of Gotham. Wait, no, wrong city again. You get the metaphor.
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You can read up to Chapter 85...
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