Kyle’s reflection in the mirror still shocks him - the long hair, a woman’s face, the athletic female body. Two years since the lab accident fused nanites with his DNA, scrambling his body into something sleeker, stranger. Female. But the real kicker? The nanites full powers only activate when he swallows semen.
Jake, his best friend, still calls him “dude” out of habit and insists this arrangement is “just science.” It’s not. Not when Kyle’s knees press into Jake’s carpet, lips wrapped around his cock, swallowing the proof of their bond. Jake thinks it’s hilarious—a superhero reduced to a blowjob artist. Kyle hates the intimacy, the reminder of his old body, but the power is undeniable. It floods him like a fever: veins glowing neon-blue, muscles humming, reflexes snapping into focus. A high that outshines shame.
He mutters the name Jake gave him, half to himself: “Spera.” A joke, of course. Short for “sperm-powered,” but Jake insists it’s “poetic.” “Like ‘spero,’ hope,” he’d said. Kyle hates that too.
The news alerts now: a car teetering off the bridge, driver unconscious. He texts Jake. “Need you.”
Jake’s apartment smells like stale pizza and awkwardness. Kyle unzips his pants without a word. Jake flinches. “Dude, you okay?”
Kyle glares up at him, saliva slicking his lips. “Save the pep talk. Just hold still.”
The act is mechanical. Kyle’s hands grip Jake’s thighs, not out of passion but necessity. Jake’s fingers twitch in his hair, but he stays quiet—learned that lesson after Kyle punched him post-orgasm last time. The rush hits Kyle’s skull like a supernova: heat, energy, a brief, involuntary moan as his body shudders into Spera.
Jake smirks. “You’re glowing.”
Spera wipes her mouth, buzzing. “Six minutes. Tops.”
She flies through the window, leaving Jake alone and dives toward the sirens, hair streaming like a comet’s tail.
She hates this. She loves this. She hates that she loves it.
As the car splashes into the river behind her, she whispers to the wind, “Don’t let them see me cry.”
Then she flies, faster than doubt.
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