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Message-ID: <29852asstr$987264601@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Johnny D." <mr_johnny@bigfoot.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Cheerleader with No Panties versus Impotence (superhero mf ff gray mast nc) by Johnny D.
Date: Sat, 14 Apr 2001 12:10:01 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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I've been watching quite a bit of Buffy the Vampire Slayer lately,
and you may be able to spot a few influences in this.  At least one
or two.  :)

My other stories, including the previous adventures of the
Cheerleader with No Panties, can be found at:

  http://member.newsguy.com/files/Authors/j/wwwondfic/jd/

If anyone has any comments or feedback, it will be gratefully
received.


*****


Cheerleader with No Panties versus Impotence
============================================

by Johnny D.

WARNING: This story must not be read by those under 18 or those who
possess good taste.


"Into every generation is born a Chosen One.  She alone will fight the bad
guys, the cheaters, and the supervillains.  She is the Cheerleader with No
Panties."


Soaring high above New York City, her cute pleated skirt billowing in the
strong winds, the Cheerleader with No Panties diligently focussed her
X-ray vision on building after building.  In some buildings people were
asleep, in others children played on computer games, and in several
couples were having sex, but all these things she ignored, intent solely
on her duty.  Two bombs found; one to go.  Triplicate Man had been quite
specific about the number when she'd captured him forty minutes ago.
"There are three bombs hidden in this city, Cheerleader with No Panties."
he'd cackled as the police lead him away in handcuffs.  "Each one powerful
enough to level three city blocks.  But you'll never find them,
Cheerleader with No Panties; they could be hidden anywhere, and they'll
all detonate within the hour!  Muahahahahahaha!!!"

That just went to show what he knew; she'd already found one bomb hidden
in a Chinese laundry, and another deep in the crocodile-infested sewers.
Just one left now, and twenty minutes still left...  plenty of time.

Triplicate Man was more of a nuisance than a genuine threat; tonight he
had been more of a nuisance than ever before.  The panty-less
superheroine, in her secret identity as Linda Carpenter, had been getting
a hard anal shafting from Dick "The Dick" Robertson when her super-hearing
had picked up the news of Triplicate Man's escapades on the police radio
frequencies.  It was a shame, because she liked Dick, whom she sat behind
in Mrs Peterson's maths class.  And she especially liked his dick, which
was just as long as Kent's ten-incher but not nearly so thin, and he had
the stamina to go for hours in even the tightest hole without having to
rest.

She'd hated having to leave; it'd been hard to find an excuse, even harder
to make him believe it.  But finally she'd convinced him that yes, her
broken toenail did need immediate medical attention, and when last she'd
seen him he'd been easing himself into her friend Diana's anus while Joey
had been hammering her pretty pussy into a dribbling gash.

Life as a crime-fighter was so hard sometimes.

The Cheerleader shook herself out of her reverie; there was work to be
done and she didn't have much time left.  She applied her X-Ray vision to
a nearby appartment building; top floor, a fifteen-year-old boy
masturbating over a picture of Chelsea Clinton.  Next floor, an elderly
couple sleeping in each other's arms.  Arrhhh.  Next floor, a large
alsation chewing at a large bomb.  Next floor, a middle-aged woman
watching Buf-...

Alsation, bomb?

She shook her head.  She was finding it hard to concentrate tonight.

Bomb?

BOMB!

Banking against the breeze, she swooped towards the appartment building.
She had lives to save.


Cock.  Big cock, fat cock pushing her lips apart, her sensitive pussy
lips, red hot man meat pushing deep into her slick innards, in and in
until balls heavy and swollen with delicious cum smacked against her ass.

Finger.

Cocks.  Two cocks, one held in her vicelike cunt-muscles while the other
probed at her open asshole.  Glorious, throbbing smooth head, wide, lubed
with her best friend's spit, sliding into her guts.

Fingers.

Fucking her, in and out twice over with each thrust, from behind and from
before, two men, mashing her tits, hands running over her, pulling her
hair, calling her bitch and slut and fucking her and fucking and fucking
and fucking.

Fingers, up cunt and ass.  Fucking.  Fingers.  Fucking.  Like two cocks.
Finger fucking.

Bodies above and below, hard breathing, muscles tensing all around, in and
out, hard, smooth, cocks, in, out.

Thumb rubbing clit, fingers in deep, rising onto a cloud of red hot wet
slippery tangy sex, riding it across the sky, orgasm rising like dawn in
the distance...

Cocks.

Fingers.

Does it really matter?

"Linda!  Come on darling, you've got to get up and go to school!"

Freeze.

No cocks.

Fingers frozen.  Orgasm ebbing away.

"Okay Mum, be down in a minute!"

Linda Carpenter sighed.  She needed it so badly.  By the time she'd
defused the bomb and got back to Lydia's the orgy was long-since over.
Everyone had gone home and she hadn't even come.  Lydia was crashed out on
her bed with dried cum still on her face.  No cock for Linda.

She REALLY NEEDED IT, Godammit!

Linda looked at her clock.  Her first class was Biology; maybe she could
afford to be just a minute or two late...?

She wiggled her fingers and started re-building her stairway to orgasm.


Linda ground her crotch into the hard wood of her chair while Mrs Peterson
droned on.  Math was SO boring, and her pussy was SO wet.  She'd fingered
herself to a crashing orgasm but her fingers could never satisfy her like
other people could.  Cocks pushing into her, tongues plunging down her
slit, lips slobbering over her sensitive breasts.  And right in front of
her: Dick.  His clean white shirt stretched over his muscular
football-player's back.  Tonight; tonight she'd make him hers.  She'd
gobble down his cock and deep-throat him like he'd never been
deep-throated before, and then they'd pick up where they'd left off last
night, with his wonder-wand giving her ass the kind of stretching she
craved.

Maybe for just one night the world could look after itself; maybe it was
time her own needs were seen to.

God, Dick had a cute back.  And through his shirt, she could make out the
tell-tale gouges where someone had dug their fingernails into him.

Linda giggled.  That just HAD to be Bernice.

Mrs Peterson was saying something, asking a question?  Something about
differentials, whatever they were.  Oh, screw it, thought Linda.  She
didn't need differentials, she needed a dick.

Dick put his hand up and answered the question.

Tonight, thought Linda at his back; tonight, little boy, I'm going to ride
you until your little bronco bucks off.


The bell rang and twenty bored teenagers were disgorged from the classroom
to join a larger body of adolescence milling around the lockers.  Linda
followed Dick to his locker and watched as he pulled out a book on Ancient
Greek architecture.  "Hi," she said.

"Hi." answered Dick, returning the architecture book to his shelf and
apparently rummaging for something else.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night." Linda continued, a little nervously.
"It was just..."

"I know, sudden need to repair a toenail; could happen at any time.  Don't
worry about it.  You didn't miss much anyway."

"I didn't?" said Linda with a smile.  If all her friends hadn't been able
to satisfy Dick's big dick then...  wow, maybe he'd need her to do it!
She thought of his eleven inches straining unsatisfied all morning and
tried not to drool.

"Nah, it all broke down soon after you left.  Bit boring really."
continued Dick, who seemed to be struggling to find something in his
locker.

"Really?"  Wow, thought Linda, perhaps I really do do it for him!  Aloud,
she said "Well, I was thinking, wondering whether, well, what say we get
together tonight?  We could continue where we left off..."  She smiled
coquetishly and allowed her breasts to brush against his arm.

But Dick just smiled sadly.  "Sorry.  I'd love to spend some time getting
to know you, but I really wanted to finish reading War and Peace by
Tolstein tonight."

The smile froze on Linda's lips.  "You'd rather read?"  What a cruel
joke to play on her.  Couldn't he see how much she needed it?  She'd
make him pay for that tonight.

"Sorry, but you know how it is when you get into a really good book."  He
rummaged some more and turned to her, and Linda was shocked to see in his
eyes only honesty and genuine emotion.  "By the way, you haven't seen my
copy of Henry IV Part 2 anywhere, have you?"


History was hell; something about FDR and a mind's eye full of throbbing
cock heading for other girls' asses.  The only thing that kept Linda sane
was the thought that this was the last lesson of the morning; lunch was
directly after.  Lunch, meaning food, her friends, and a chance to talk to
Dick again.  Work out what she'd misunderstood.

She met him in the queue for the cafeteria.  "Dick," she stuttered, her
tongue reconsidering her words.  "Did I...  Did I do something wrong?"

Dick looked genuinely perplexed.  "No; you're cool with me little Linda."

"Then why won't you come round tonight?  I really want to fuck you."

"I just..."  Dick shrugged.  "I don't wanna fuck, I want to read, want to
have some fun, you know."

"Fucking can be fun."

"It takes all sorts."

Linda's heart fluttered, but she caught it before it fell.  So, Dick was a
bastard; well HE wasn't ever gonna get to cum in her again!  He could kiss
her ass goodbye, and wave farewell to any chances of a blow job.  There
was plenty more cock in this school; plenty more cock and ass and tongue.
She didn't need Dick to have a good time.


That afternoon, she met Stevie in the library.  "Hi Steve, still pleasing
the girls with that nine-incher?" seemed as good an opening line as any.

Steve just shrugged and smiled vaguely.

"What say you show me what you can do with it tonight, hmmm?"

The big, muscular swimmer shook his head.  "'Fraid it's the Best of the
AWA 7 on TNT tonight.  Can't miss Nick Bockwinkle versus Verne Gagne."


The next day was Thursday, and Linda sat next to Diana in Biology.  Diana
was her best friend; the girl who had first introduced her, as a tender
twelve-year-old, to the joys of lesbian lovemaking.  "Di," Linda began
while the teacher droned on.  "Do you, ummm, wanna come round tonight?
I'm sure my Mom would let us have another sleep-over and we could have
some really good fun between the covers..."

But Diana pulled her face.  "Sorry, my love, but I want to try to knit my
sister's little baby a wooly sweater for the winter."

Linda was incredulous.  "You're KNITTING?"

"Hey, you never know what you can do until you try."


Friday.  Mr Solstein looked over his thick spectacles at the
disobedient young adult before him.  "Carpenter," he intoned, "this
just isn't good enough."

Linda squirmed on the edge of the desk.  Just what was the big deal
with homework?  Teachers would set it, she would forget to do it; it
was a long and time-honoured tradition.  Why did this silly four-eyed
old man want to interfere with that?

Man.  Mmmmm.

"Carpenter, you will soon be an adult.  You must learn
responsibility."

Responsibility?  Who was this man to lecture her on responsibility?
How many times had he saved the world?

"Schoolwork should be your number 1 priority."

Yeah, right.  Next time someone fell off the top of a tower block,
they were sure to be understanding that the Cheerleader with No
Panties hadn't saved them because she'd been doing her homework.

"What were you doing last night, hmmm?  Watching television?  Listing
to a tuneless dirge?"

Actually, she'd phoned everyone she knew then been forced to
masturbate alone to five or six thigh-drenching orgasms when nobody would
come around to come with her.

"Well don't you have anything to say for yourself!" bellowed the
thickset schoolmaster.

Mmmm.  Master.

"Well, sir," smiled Linda, leaning forward and thanking God she'd
undone the top three buttons of her shirt.  "I'm sorry,
I'm such a bad little girl."

"You are indeed." Mr Solstein said.

"But I want to be good, I want to be a good little girl and make
my teacher happy.  I want you to be everso pleased with me."

"You have to make the change in your life.  You have to realise what
is important."

"Oh sir, it's so hard," mewled Linda, licking her lips and moving her
eyes up and down the teacher's muscular body.  "I've been such a very
bad girl, and I deserve to be punished for it."

"Well I don't-"

Linda sniffed and leaned forward to grab Mr Solstein's crotch.  "Oh
sir, will you punish me please?  You feel so-"

Mr Solstein jumped back, fire sparking in his eyes.  "MISS
CARPENTER!  You're in detention!"

"But sir-"

"For the next fortnight!"

"But-"

"And if you try anything like that again, you disgusting girl, I'll
have you expelled!"

Linda jumped up, genuine tears starting to roll down her cheek.  "But
I need it, sir!  I haven't have sex for over three days!"


Friday night was party night.  Every Friday, Linda and all her
friends and her friends' friends and her friends' friends' friends
would get together, get naked and get fucking.  Some of her greatest
ever climaxes had been on Friday nights, like the time that Rob and
Bob had double-penetrated her anus while Sandy had tongued her cunt
so deeply it felt like she was sucking on her womb.  Those were the
nights...

Every Friday was party night.  Except this Friday, it seemed.  Diana
was playing with her niece, Stevie was reading Richard III, Rob and
Bob were playing with their Playstation, Sandy had taken up
tapestry, Sid was practicing his softball swing, Simon wanted an
early night...  the list went on.  Every single one of her
friends would rather pursue a pursuit either boring or banal rather
than get together and do something anal.

Or perhaps they were getting together, and just didn't want her with
them.

Perhaps she had B.O.?

She sniffed.  She couldn't smell anything.

Linda admired her naked body in the bathroom mirror.  She knew she
was the picture of fuckability.  She loved being fucked from behind
in front of a mirror, watching and feeling as a cock plunged into her
infinitely stretchy pussy, seeing her breasts swinging back and forth
and the man's hips thrusting back and forth and their faces
contorting as they charged headlong over the edge of the cliff and...

Linda plunged another couple of fingers into her cunt and moaned.
Masturbation wasn't nearly as good as fucking, but tonight it would
just have to do.


Saturday.  No school.

The Cheerleader with No Panties flew high over the city, smiling
slightly from the sensation of the wind lifting her skirt and lightly
caressing her cunt.  Her sensitive,
unfucked-for-far-too-many-days-now cunt, with lips engorged and eager
to grasp a cock, between thighs longing to grip tightly a head as a
tongue licked and sucked at her erect little clitty and-

She shook her head.  She was working.  She had to concentrate.

"help"

She could hear something.

"help!"

"Help!"

"HELP!"

Someone was in trouble.  Someone needed help.  And luckily for them,
help was on the way.

The Cheerleader with No Panties plunged towards the source of the
cries.


The alleyway was dark, squashed between two tall buildings and
aligned so that sunlight never penetrated its twists and crevices.
The woman had probably been taking a short-cut on her way to the
shops when the man had jumped out at her, grabbing her bag.  But the
woman had held on, so he had thumped her to the ground.

But still the woman held on, trying to tug her bag out of the thief's
mucky hands, even as her power-suit was dirtied by the grime of the
alley and the thief drew back his foot to land a kick on her abdomen.

All this the Cheerleader with No Panties saw with her super-vision as
she zoomed towards the alleyway.  And then she was there,
decelerating from breakneck speed in time to land a strong right hook
under the thief's chin.

"Get away from her!"

She landed between them, for a moment staring down the thief.  Then
she smiled, as she always did, and wiggled her hips.

"Hello mister, I'm just a little girl and I'm lost in the big city."

She licked her lips.

"Would you take me home and help me?"

She touched her neck, then moved her hands over her cheerleading
t-shirt, pausing momentarily on her breasts, then down her body to
her skirt.  To the edge of her skirt, then raising it slowly,
seductively, concentrating her superhuman sexuality on the thief in a
way no-one could ever resist.

"Oh Mr Thief, I need your help SO much..."

Her skirt was almost entirely raised now, revealing to her audience
her hairless pussy.  She looked up, expecting to see him staring and
drooling, possibly even masturbating already -

And caught his punch on the side of her head.

"Bullshit." said the thief.  He kicked her.  Again.  Again.

What was happening?  How could he do this to her?

"I'm gonna kill you, Cheerleader with No Panties!  Mick MacMann is
gonna be famous as the man who killed the Cheerleader with No
Panties!  Hahaha!"

Not likely.

The Cheerleader with No Panties reached out a hand, grabbed the
thief's leg, and threw him hard into the nearest wall.

He slid down it and collapsed into a heap on the floor.

The Cheerleader picked herself up and smoothed down her uniform.  How
had this happened, she thought?  Nobody had ever resisted her
cheerleading charms before.  How?  How?

"Ahem."

The woman.  The woman in the suit.  She'd forgotten about her.

"Thanks for saving me." said the woman.  Her hair was dishevelled,
her suit was askew, and she'd soon have a black eye.

"It was nothing."

"No, it was everything.  Thank you.  Really."

God, the woman was beautiful.  Relief had flooded her face with
colour, her legs looked glorious in stockings, her hair was a
fabulous shade of red.

"You're so sexy," breathed the Cheerleader.

"What?"

The Cheerleader with No Panties pounced, pushing the woman against
a wall, grabbing her wrist.

"What the hell are you-"

She silenced the woman's protests with a kiss, mashing her tongue
against closed lips.  "I want you."  the Cheerleader breathed.
"I need you.  I'm going to eat you out until you can't cum anymore,
then you'll eat me and I'll cum all over your beautiful face."  She
moved her free hand up to squeeze the woman's firm breast through her
clothes.  "We are going to fuck so hard that-"

The kicks to the ankle couldn't hurt the Cheerleader with No Panties
but the surprise caused her to back off, and in that moment the woman
had squirmed free and as away, running with tears running down her
cheeks.

Oh.

The Cheerleader sat down, the rush of hormones deserting her for a
moment.  What had happened there?  What had she done?  Why had she
done it?  Was was happening to her?

The looked up, opened her mouth and screamed her frustration to the
world:

"I NEED A GOOD FUCKING, DAMMIT!!!"


Night.

Whenever something was too hard, too puzzling, too confusing or too
difficult for the Cheerleader with No Panties to figure out on her
own, there was someone who always knew what to do.  Someone who
always knew what advice to give, where to go to find the answers, who
to fight to save the world.

The Coach.

The Cheerleader landed outside the abandoned warehouse and walked
gingerly through the big half-open doors.  No matter what horrors she
faced or how many times she came here, she always felt nervous
entering the warehouse.  Perhaps because it reminded her of before
she discovered her destiny and her superpowers, or perhaps because it
contained the only being who knew her secret identify.

"Coach?" she whispered, hearing the echo of her breathy words
speaking to her from the darkness.  "Coach, are you here?"

And then he was there, walking spectrally from the darkness, almost
as if he was being born from the night itself.  The Coach; five feet
eleven inches of fat pale middle-aged man, dressed in the colours of
the New York Yankees.

"Hello child," breathed the Coach in his husky manner.  "What ails you
today?"

"Oh Coach, I don't know...  I just feel...  well, it started last
Wednesday, when Stevie didn't want to fuck me.  And then nobody
wanted to fuck me.  It's like nobody's interested in casual sex
anymore!  And I've been getting so frustrated and having so much
trouble concentrating and I almost raped a woman on the way here and
it's so horrible and I don't understand what's happening to me!"

The Coach thought for a moment, his chubby face wrinkling through a
number of expressions before settling on something neutral.  "Perhaps
you should just learn to restrain yourself?  You don't have to have
sex every day, you know."

The Cheerleader's heart froze.  "I know that, but it's been three
days!" she exclaimed.

The Coach shrugged.  "Most people don't even have sex every week, you
know."

"I don't think you're quite understanding what I'm saying here," the
Cheerleader with No Panties said, drawing on her reserves of
patience to choke down an increasing feeeling of desparation.  And
horniness.  "People are acting _really strangely_.  When someone
would rather knit or read than screw me, that's not normal."

"Perhaps they're tired.  My child, maybe there is something strange
going on, but you're not giving me any evidence of it."

"But Coach it's so...  wait, there was something else." said the
Cheerleader, racking her brains to remember what the something else
was.  "My powers.  My seduction powers didn't work on that thief."

The Coach perked up and leaned forwards.  "Now that is interesting.
Your powers didn't work on someone?  Who was he?  Was there anything
special about him?"

The Cheerleader struggled to remember.  "He was just a guy.  A young
guy in ripped jeans and a t-shirt.  I caught him trying to snatch a
woman's bag, and I tried my usual routine on him but he wasn't
affected at all."

"Now that's very concerning; it may mean that your powers are fading.
Or perhaps criminal humanity is evolving to be immune to your
powers...  Fascinating.  Please stop masturbating."

The Cheerleader blushed red as she removed her finger from her
sopping cunt and smoothed her skirt down.  "Sorry Coach, I didn't
even realise I'd started.  God, I'm so horny..."

The Coach signed.  "Well let's forget our sex drives and get back to
the issue at hand, yes?  Have you noticed any other problems with
your powers recently?  Possibly them coming and going?"

"No, none at all...  but I hadn't tried to use them really since I
caught Triplicate Man on Tuesday.  It's been kinda quiet as well as
entirely sexless.  I've just been getting so frustrated...  nobody
wants to fuck me and now even my seduction powers don't work on
people...  it's like the whole world's been put under a spell!"

The Coach looked up and met the Cheerleader with No Panties' gaze as
realization raced across their faces in glorious stereo.

"Ooh." they both said.


Kyle Richards scribbled madly in his notepad while his eyes remained
fixed on the textbook.  With his Mesopotamium History exam just two
days away he couldn't afford time to rest or relax if he was to
achieve a distinction.

A noise made him look up.  A bump somewhere.  His eyes scanned the
dark, badly-lit library for the source of the sound, finally
alighting upon a schoolgirl, still in her uniform, picking up a pile
of dusty-looking books from where they were scattered on the floor.

"Urrrhhh...  hi." she said, smiling nervously at him.  "I don't
suppose you'd want to fuck me, would you?"

"No thanks." said Kyle, returning to the infinitely more attractive
world of his Ancient Mesopotamian textbook.

"Oh well," sighed the girl.

A few moment late Kyle looked up as a breeze turned the page in his
textbook.  Who the hell had opened that window?


Back in her superherioc guise, the Cheerleader with No Panties
alighted with the warehouse and placed the books on a crate beside
the Coach.  "I never knew the local library had a section on
witchcraft."

The Coach started to leaf through the uppermost volumes.  "Did you
ever look for one?"

"Well, no."

"There you go then.  You never know what's there until you look."
The Coach smiled at the Cheerleader.  "I'm going to be doing this for
a while.  Go back home, get some sleep.  Come back in the morning and
we'll see what can be done."

"SLEEP?!  How can I sleep when I'm so horny?"

"You can try." said the Coach.


Morning came and found Linda wrapped in her sheets, coated with sweat
from a hard night's self-gratification yet still unsatisfied.  The
birds were singing outside her window and the sun was promising
another glorious day.

Another hot day.

But maybe, if the Coach could work his magic, her last day of
frustration and heartache.

She moved her palms over her breasts and down towards her crotch.
Time for just a little orgasm before she went to work?

No.  Duty awaited.  And maybe a good hard fucking if they could get
this spell lifted quickly.

She got up and opened her window, naked as a baby.  Let the
neighbours talk all they wanted; she wasn't going to get dressed when
she didn't need to.

Linda Carpenter, schoolgirl, breathed in and began to chant:

  "One, Two, Three, Four,
   We know how they want to score!
   Five, Six, Seven, Eight,
   We'll let them glimpse but no mistake,
   They can't have our pretty tails!
   Cee Aich Eee Eee Arr Ell Eee Aye Dee Eee Arr Ess!"

She felt the familiar thrill as the power of the Cheerleader with No
Panties flowed through her, changing her shape, expanding her
breasts, stretching her body and causing a cheerleader's uniform to
clothe it.  Without panties, of course.

The Cheerleader leaped from the window and flew into the sunrise.


"Good morning, my child." said the Coach, looking exactly has he had
the night before, with the books scattered on crates before him,
bleeding bookmarks.

"Well Coach, what do you think?  Is it a spell?" said the
Cheerleader.

"I think so."

"Can you reverse it?"

"No."

That wasn't quite what she'd expected.  "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean 'no'.  If I spent two or three years studying all these books
and learning about magic, then maybe I could cast a counter-spell,
but as an untrained amateur after one night's reading...  I don't
stand a chance in hell."

The Cheerleader pouted.  "But you're the Coach, you're meant to have
all the answers.  What're we going to do now."

"I do have another plan.  There may be another way to reverse the
spell that's been cast."

"Another way?  What is it?"

"We have to shatter the spell at its source."

"In English?"

"If we find the witch in question and break her concentration,
all of her spells will fold."

The Cheerleader nodded.  "Sounds simple.  How do I find her?"

The Coach reached into a crate and tossed something at her.  The
Cheerleader bent low and caught it before it hit the floor.  A
football.  "A football?"

"Just hold the ball before you and it will lead you to the source of
the enchantment."

The Cheerleader with No Panties hefted the ball thoughtfully.  It was
definately pulling towards the door.  "Say Coach, just how do you get
all this useful stuff?"

The Coach tutted and motioned her away.  "Don't ask questions.  Just
go and save the world."

The Cheerleader with No Panties rose into the air and flew out of the
door, leaving behind only a flurry of disturbed air and a muttered
comment: "And my pussy too..."

The Coach smiled.  And if an inquisitive rat or pigeon had happened
to be watching, they would have seen him fade away like a forgotten
memory.

But there was nobody there.


The magic football led the Cheerleader with No Panties to a deserted
warehouse on the other side of town.  She circled it cautiously, on
the lookout for evidence of evil.  She'd never met a witch before,
so she wasn't sure what to expect.  But when no pencil-sharpened
broomsticks, fang-toothed cats or one-eyed vultures soared up to meet
her, she alighted on the roof.

A peer through a skylight confirmed that she was in the right place.
The warehouse was dark, lit only by the smouldering light of a wood
fire beneath a cauldron, but that was no hindrance to the
Cheerleader's super-vision.  The cauldron bubbled, sending clouds of
smoke into the air; on the floor around it were stencilled
arcane-looking symbols.  A black cat was curled luxuriously in the
centre of one of them, but otherwise there was no life in evidence.

The Cheerleader frigged herself gently as she scanned the
surroundings.  Her little cunt had felt like it had been dripping all
over the city while she had flown here.  It had almost been enough to
make her wish she'd been wearing panties.

But there was no time for wanking now.  Removing her reluctant finger
from her soft creamy folds, she took a deep breath and crashed
through the skylight.


The Cheerleader alighted on the floor and immediately stepped towards
the cauldron, wary of any attack from the cat.

"I wouldn't touch that, my pretty."

The voice croaked from between two packing crates and stopped her in
her tracks.  The witch was standing there; an old hag, her skin
wrinkled like a prune, her nose elongated, her eyes green and
shining, clad in a cloak of ripped black and a matching pointy hat.

The Cheerleader remained calm, as she always did when confronting
super-villains.  "I didn't see you." she said.

The witch smiled, showing a mouthful of yellow and rotting teeth.
"By design, my dear, by design."

"I know what you've done." said the Cheerleader.  "You've robbed
everyone of their sex-drive."

"That's right, my beautiful little slut.  Everyone, everywhere, has
been drawn away from desire's call.  Without these desires, people
will take up more intellectually fulfilling pursuits.  Conflict
will cease, science will advance, and the power of simple
platonic love will conquer the world.  What I have done I have done
for the good of the human race."

"Yeah, and when the human race ends because nobody's making babies
anymore, that'll be a real plus too."

The witch cackled madly.  "People will find new ways to reproduce!"

"And what about me?  What did you do to me?" the Cheerleader said
with a sigh.

"Your cheerleading superpowers protected you from my spell."

"So you cast another one on me, didn't you?  Didn't you?"

"No."

The Cheerleader with No Panties paused, then with a shrug shoved down
a glut of emotions to be examined at a later date.  There were more
important things to worry about.  "But why?  Why did you do all
this?"

"Because I know what's best.  I saw where humanity's problems lay
from the moment my son Roger refused to roger me."

"Let me get this straight; you removed sex from the whole world just
because your son didn't want to screw his wrinkled old mother?"

"That's right."

"This has to stop.  End it now, reverse the spell."

"No."

The Cheerleader stepped forward.  "End it."

"No.  This is for the best, child.  I know; I'm a mother."

The Cheerleader stepped forward again.  "You know I won't let this
continue."

The evil witch cackled.  "Poor innocent child, whatever do you think
you can do about it?"

Another step forward, and now the Cheerleader with No Panties was
standing face-to-face with the witch.  He opened her mouth, and
calmly, definitively said one word: "This."

And then she leaned forward and passionately kissed the witch on her
dry wrinkled lips, thrusting her tongue between them.  She felt the
witch gasp in surprise and tense up, so she put her arm around her
and pulled her body to hers, crushing saggy tits against pert young
ones, grabbing at a wrinkly ass through wrinkly cloth.

And now the witch was responding, kissing her back, pushing her
tongue so far into the Cheerleader's mouth that she almost choked.
One claw-like hand was grabbing roughly at her teenaged tits while
the other was scrabbling at the bottom of her top.  The Cheerleader
raised her knee between the witch's legs and she felt the witch begin
to grind her crotch against it.

She wondered if this was enough distraction yet.

And then the Cheerleader yelped as the witch's bony fingers found her
nipple, tweaking it and pinching it in a way that sent shivers
of delight through her sex-starved form.  Breaking the kiss, she
pushed the witch back onto a packing crate and thrust her hand
through a tear in her dress and within her large smelly knickers.

"Go on granny, give it to me, give me your gray old cunt." breathed
the Cheerleader.

The witch gasped as the Cheerleader's hand found her hairy old pussy
lips, then gulped as two, then three, fingers thrust deep into her
long-neglected vagina.  She began to pant, quicker and quicker,
bucking her hips against the young superhero's super-active fingers.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh yes pretty child...  I haven't cum for years...
Oh yes Oh yes OH YES!" cried the witch in undiluted joy as a roar of
pleasure frightened the age from her body.  She crushed the Cheerleader
against her, her claws scratching holes in the jersey as her entire
body was abandoned to climax after climax.  Muscles loosened by
age and by childbirth spasmed into life, clamping down on the invading
teenage fingers and rubbing her clit against a superhero's thumb.

"Oh God, she's going to have a heart attack." thought the Cheerleader
with No Panties as the witch gulped and gasped in her arms.

Finally, the old hag came down.  She kissed the Cheerleader gently on
the nose and whispered "Oh God little girl, Oh God" under her panting
breath.

"Now it's my turn." said the Cheerleader, pushing the witch down her
body and raising her skirt.  The witch regarded the fresh plump cunt
before her eyes for a moment before he Cheerleader's strong hands
pushed her head against it.  She gasped as the hag's tongue thrust into
her, nose against her clitoris, wrinkled lips against wrinkled lips.
"That's it granny, eat my cunt, eat my cunt." she cried, feeling the
frustrations of the week draining into the old woman's mouth.  A
tongue found her clitoris and she grabbed at a packing crate for
support, her super-strong fingers crushing it into splinters as
finally, at last, she was overwhelmed by a thunderous, muscle-clenching
orgasm.

"Drink my cum granny!" cried the Cheerleader amidst tears of joy, and
the old hag did so, her mouth eagerly taking all the Cheerleader could
give and more, swallowing the sweet juices.  No sooner had the
cheerleader descended from one orgasm than she was riding the wave of
another, bony hands gasping her firm ass-cheeks, a bony fingernail
teasing her anus as a tongue explored her twat until again she came,
and then again, and then again.

Finally, she was spent.  The witch clambered awkwardly to her feet, her
warty face smeared with pussy-juice.  "My pretty, my pretty, I've never
cum like that." she gasped.

"What about...  your spell?" panted the Cheerleader.

"Oh, that." said the witch, snapping her fingers and muttering in
Latin.  "There; it's gone now.  I think the world might be a better
place with sex after all."  The witch smiled.  "Say, my dear, you don't
know where I could find a few studs do you?"

The Cheerleader with No Panties smiled as she thought of all the studs
she was going to have tonight.  "No."


Sunday night was gang-bang night, at least for this week.  Linda mewled
in pleasure around Sid's shaft as Dick's monster dick probed at her
anus.  She clenched her pussy-muscles around Pete's pecker and
shuddered from the sensation.

All was well with the world once more.


EPILOGUE

The pod detached itself from the mothership and began to spiral into
the atmosphere of the blue-green planet below.  Later, two lovers in
Afghanistan would see a shooting star and make a wish, but they
wouldn't know what they had really seen.

The Plan had begun.



*****

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: This story remains at all times the exclusive copyright of 
the author known as Johnny D.  You, the reader, are hereby granted 
permission to keep a private copy of this story, and to make paper copies 
for your own personal use only; however, my authorship and this warning must 
NOT be removed from the manuscript.  You may show this story to other people 
individually. You may NOT distribute the story publically without my 
permission.  This includes (but is not limited to): placing the story on a 
web site, FTP site, mailserver; posting it to a mailing list or newsgroup; 
putting it on a CD-ROM. Do any of these without my say so and I will be very 
angry.

In other words, if you want to use this story for anything, you have to ask 
me first.

(NB: By posting this story to alt.sex.stories.moderated, permission
is granted for archiving on general Usenet archive sites (e.g.
groups.google.com) and the official alt.sex.stories.moderated 
archives.)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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