Vaslima
By Danni Steele
Dedicated to Michael Savage, for always believing in my creativity.
Ok, so there was this woman from Kent or somewhere like that. She lived a pretty boring life, had some kids and died. These kids had a regular, boring childhood. However, when one of the girls turned around 23ish, she went to watch a meteor shower. Some of these ended up hitting the Earth and causing all of the stupid humans to start panicking like morons. One of these stray little bastard space rocks flew down with gusto and hit her right in her vagina. If everyone wasn’t busy panicking, they would have probably had a bit of a laugh here because it looked pretty cool. She was out with her husband, whose name was genuinely Nanda Sihpij.
“Shit! Did you see that?”
Nanda nodded calmly. He was too cool to show much emotion. He probably saw stuff like this every day. Oh, and also, he was totally high.
She was in quite a bit of pain, to be honest, so she went back home to chill out and nurse her bruised vagina back to proper health. Nanda drove back and said that he was hungry, but I guess that’s not really relevant to this story.
Now then, the next day, Nanda fancied a bit of the old sexy time. (As a side note, Nanda had a pretty big dong. He would use it to kill small animals. Not in a rapey way, but in a police-stick way.) This was when our lovely main character found that she had a superpower. It was a superpower she hadn’t heard of on TV before when they were advertising new films, but was something else completely. It was the power to hold sperm in her vagina and fire it out hours later.
This is the story of Fanny Sihpij.
* * *
Nanda wasn’t happy the moment he realised Fanny’s new ability, as it resulted in him being covered in his own baby gravy. It had sort of started going hard in there, and so had become more firm and actually could have its own strength. For example, after firing a bit at Nanda, she fired the rest at the lamp, caught one end of the smily grossness, and used the elasticity on the furthest end that had stuck to the lamp to fling it across the room. Nanda wasn’t happy about this either. He liked that lamp.
“I’ve got some sort of power! This is bloody mental.”
“Why did you just break the lamp? That cost me like £13.”
Fanny didn’t really care about the lamp. They were way cooler things going down. “Do you think I could use this for the good of mankind? I could be a hero. I could save people from burning buildings...”
Nanda vomited into his mouth, but just about managed to hide it and swallowed it back down. “Seriously Fanny, I think people would rather die.”
“Stop being a dick. You’re just jealous because when I fire out man-slime it could save someone.”
“I’m still getting over the fact that you kept that in there and fired it out. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Fanny remembered the meteor, “I remember that meteor. Do you think it has something to do with that?”
“I think you need to see a doctor.”
Nanda was right. She had, after all, been hit by a meteor.
The waiting room in A&E had all sorts of weird people. Fanny noticed that one of them was talking to the receptionist about how he must be seen immediately. He threatened to shit his pants if he was not seen.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait until it is your turn. There are lots of others waiting too.”
The man shat himself right there. He then started shimmying his hips until little bits of shit came out of the bottom of his jeans. A smug look was thrown to the receptionist, and he went to sit back down. The receptionist didn’t even flinch, and the shit was still on the floor when Fanny was called in to see the doctor.
The doctor was a tall guy with a big bulge. Fanny couldn’t help but worry that it was just stuffed with shit. Witnessing things like that haunts you.
“Can I help you?” His voice sounded like a mix between a smooth Frenchman, and a harsh African tribe that uses those cool clicky sounds when they talk. She hadn’t heard such a strange accent before.
“Yeah, a meteor hit me in my growler yesterday.”
“Sick. Well spread those legs and let me have a look.”
Fanny obliged, and the doctor made a sound similar to that of a child getting a new Xbox for Christmas, or someone from Northern England getting a new crack pipe.
“This is amazing. The inside of your fuck hole is like 10 litres deep. It defies all possibility. And the walls have the strength of a whole family of Schwarzeneggers. It may indeed look more like a cyclops with cataracts than an actual human body part, but you have a god damn power here.”
Fanny suddenly felt totally horny so she grabbed the doctor’s bulge. She managed to miss his dick and squeeze his balls, which temporarily made him a paraplegic. After he recovered, he stripped off his pants and started waving his meat around like a fleshy helicopter. Fanny noticed bits of cheese fly off as he did this. She guessed it must just be how he cleaned it off before getting sexual. The smell that came from it was that of a rabbit that had been dead for a week or two after soiling itself. The doctor kissed her and she vomited into his mouth. She didn’t mean to, but it was an honest mistake. This resulted in him throwing up too, so at least he couldn’t be grossed out any more because he was just as bad as her.
The smell suddenly knocked Fanny out cold, and when she woke, she found the doctor grinning and looking right into her eyes while shitting in the bin. Fanny found that she quite liked this. Either that, or the room was cold. Her nipples were like bullets anyway.
“You like this?” questioned the doctor.
Fanny made a little moan in reply, as she had forgotten how to speak.
Without taking his eyes off her, the doctor screamed at the top of his voice, “TSZVINA! DHODHI! JEBEM LI TI MRTVU MAJKU! MA HÄLUUN PANNA SUA KOVAA PERSEESEEN!” He then lifted the bin and wore it as his victory helmet, while shoving his other helmet up Fanny’s arse. She could feel it stirring up the curry she had eaten the day before, which made her vomit again. The doctor caught this in his hands and rubbed it on his balls. A rumbling started in Fanny’s stomach, and seconds later the doctor was wearing yesterday’s curry.
The doctor thrusted into Fanny’s vagina and squirted his spunk into her as she pissed herself. Fanny used her new muscles to hold this sperm inside her so she could maybe make a lasso out of it later.
The doctor had started vomiting again as Fanny left the room.
There was still shit on the floor of the waiting room.
* * *
Fanny’s career as a superhero lasted many, many hours. She began by naming herself Vaslima whilst using the superhero persona. She couldn’t let anyone know her true identity because no superheroes ever let anybody know, and she figured there must be a reason for that though she has no interest in finding out what that reason was. She designed a costume on paper which looked totally mega cool, though she wasn’t a god damn tailor so there was no chance of her making it. In fact, it was just a waste of time by even designing anything.
Before Vaslima took to the streets for her first and only fight against street crime, she needed to restore her spermy ammo, so she got Nanda to replenish it. He wanted to put it up the butt, but that would simply have been a wasted opportunity. When Fanny had enough man juice up her cum cannon, she put on a crotchless gimp suit and left. Crime doesn’t wait, and so Fanny couldn’t stay around and spoon. Anyway, Nanda didn’t quite like the idea of cuddling up to a dick juice storage facility with the ability to fire it at him without a moment’s notice.
Vaslima spied an elderly gentleman with green shoes leaving a shop with a pen in his pocket that she was at least 74% sure wasn’t there when he entered.
“Stop there, you crime performing street urchin!” Vaslima was still working on catchy one-liners.
The old man answered with a rough Glaswegian accent which shan’t be spelled out phonetically due to the risk of the dear reader vomiting all over the medium through which they read this. “Who the fuck are you? Piss of you bitch-dick mother fucking asshole.” Though he was clearly angry, he did not shout, and a malicious grin stayed on his face throughout all dialogue.
“You have one chance, sir, and one chance only. You can return your robbings and repent for your crimes or else…” Vaslima flashed her crusty womanhood. “Or else you shall receive the judgement that I believe is adequate.”
Angry Old Scotsman wasn’t annoyed by many things, but people that use words like “robbings” was one. People with crusty vaginas was another one. “Listen here, lass: you don’t know who you’re dealing with here. Either fuck off or shit will be going down.”
A crowd had started gathering at this point, as it was clear that a fight would be happening between two fairly odd people. One guy in the crowd started masturbating.
“So be it,” quipped Vaslima. She spread her legs and fired three small sticky missiles, but Scotsman dislocated his jaw and caught them in his mouth. He was still grinning, and had now started unzipping his pants.
Vaslima realised that she had met an equal in this man, though he had chosen the path of evil. It was to be a fight to the death.
The man’s pants were now removed and being used as a scarf by a member of the crowd. He put his hand into his mouth which fit in easily (his dislocated jaw hung limp below his face), removed it, and started fisting his asshole.
“Shit is going to go down, dick biscuit.” He continued to grin with the upper half of his mouth.
Vaslima fired a mortar of mini Nandas, but the man continued to catch it in his mouth, and she realised that he was immune to her attacks. What could she do? It occurred to her that she should probably have thought of a back up plan, like a gun or something.
The man fell to his front and slithered snake-like in Vaslima’s direction. She was suddenly simultaneously stricken with fear and arousal – fear because she believed she was about to die, and aroused because snakes are hot. As the man got closer, Vaslima began to cry and hump the air in front of her. The masturbating guy in the crowd climaxed and went home.
The Scotsman had begun to slither up Vaslima, and twisted himself around her so that his ass rested on her face.
“My turn,” he said, somewhat unenthusiastically.
Vaslima felt what she could only describe as a foul tasting stampede of shit run into her mouth and down her throat. She could not breathe and began to panic, because the shit just wasn’t stopping. This went on for ten minutes until Vaslima orgasmed and squirted whatever it is that some women squirt and then dropped dead.
The Scotsman stood up, ripped off his balls and stared about the shit covered, crusty corpse lay before him.
“Shit went down, bitch.”
