Super Futa Double Feature

By Ashe Valenti and Lara Longstaff

We've done it again! Beautiful and talented futanari authors Lara Longstaff and Ashe Valenti have teamed up once again! If you love futanari, beautiful superheroines, and HOT high octane adventure, this is the title for you! Come get super-sized!

Author's Note: All characters depicted are consenting adults over the age of 21.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashe Valenti
• Release date: Nov 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463187661

Ashe Valenti

I’m Ashe, and I write the sexiest romantic erotica you’ve ever read! ?I fell in love with the futanari idea in high school, and ever since then futanari have been my passion. It’s like lesbian erotica, but with that very special something extra. There is nothing I love more than creating lovable and exciting characters - futanari & female - and seeing what fun they get up to together!You can find even more of my books at http://www.futanarierotica.com.

Book preview

Stung by the Firefly

by

Ashe Valenti

Copyright 2019 Ashe Valenti

All Rights Reserved

Arachnia loved the way expensive jewelry looked against her leather-clad body.

She took her time in front of the mirror, admiring the glimmering rings, the flashy necklaces, the jewel-encrusted bangles. What she loved most were the smooth pearls around her neck. Their weight was exquisite. She looked like an Egyptian Pharaoh. No, a goddess!

Much as she reveled in her narcissistic moment, she had to get moving. The sleep powder wouldn’t last forever. She slipped her stolen goods into her little black backpack and slung it around her shoulder. All except the pearls. Those she would wear a little longer.

She skipped across the marble floor of Equestrian’s Jewelers, confident that nobody could stop her now. She had, after all, disarmed the store’s alarm systems and knocked out the sad excuses for guards they hired. She had kept the cameras working, however, and performed some well-practiced flips and pirouettes across the store hoping to have as much of herself caught on the surveillance tapes as possible. She wanted the cops to know which masked criminal they were dealing with. Under her black cowl and skin-tight latex outfit adorned with silver web-like patterns, her true identity would never be recognized. All her clothes, including her high-heeled boots, were handmade, and her hair was so neatly tucked under her cowl that she didn’t risk a strand of it coming loose. But she wanted everyone in Civic City, cops and civilians, to know the name Arachnia. She was the best at what she did, and she knew it. And nothing got her off quite like seeing her black, athletic form appear in the morning news.

Diagnosis: Kleptomania with a side of narcissism.

As she passed by the groggy guards (that knock-out powder from the Civic City University had worked a treat), she blew them a kiss and said, Tell your friends about me! before sprinting towards an open window and leaping out.

The thief landed on the tenth-floor balcony of the building across the street. Like her namesake, Arachnia was so light and precise in her movements that she barely made a noise when she leapt between buildings. From there, it was only a short climb to the rooftop, and there she would be in her element. From those soaring heights, the city was hers.

Little did she know, she was sharing the Civic City rooftops with another masked person that night.

Arachnia sprinted across the concrete, leaping over antennas and humming air conditioning units, her eyes fixed firmly on the next landing. The cold night air whipped past her face, gliding over her black cowl. Sweat from excitement and exertion dripped between her cleavage. This was her biggest score yet, and the thought of how much she would make on the black market made her quiver.

But she loved the pearls. They reminded her of perfect little spider eggs. Maybe she would keep those.

Then, just as Arachnia was about to leap from the building’s edge, a great black force rushed into her from the side and knocked her to the ground. Quickly, she righted herself in the air and landed on her hands and feet, but the unwelcome attack had changed her mood. Whoever it was would get the sharp heel of her boot, right to wherever it would hurt most. She looked up, expecting to see some drug-crazed bum whose rooftop boudoir she had invaded.

What she saw instead was a towering form like a demon from a nightmare. It moved toward her. She could see a head, but below that was a solid black mass. No arms or legs; just a massive body. And worst of all were the two orange lights where its eyes should be.

A rock dropped in the pit of her stomach.

Arachnia sprang into action. She threw herself at the figure, the fangs attached to her black gloves full of poison and ready to do some damage. She slashed at the tall figure, aiming for its face but instead catching strong gauntlets that suddenly appeared from the black mass of its body. The figure pushed her attack back with frightening ease. Arachnia dashed back, slipped into a martial arts stance and began kicking out. She landed a few hard blows to where it’s stomach should be, but her adversary didn’t seem to feel them. On Arachnia’s last kick, the figure caught her foot and pushed out while twisting, sending Arachnia spinning through the air. She landed without her usual grace and finesse.

Her breath came strong. For the first time in goodness knew how long, she was afraid. Whoever they were, they were frighteningly skilled.

You’re coming with me, the figure said, its voice piercing the darkness. Arachnia’s eyes widened, because the quality of their voice was a deep feminine. And at that moment, like the world was a stage and a searchlight came on overhead, the clouds parted to reveal the full moon. It drenched the figure in silver light, and Arachnia finally saw who it was. She stood over her like a giantess; easily more than six feet tall with a wide, intimidating cape that had made her body look like a solid black mass. She wore a black mask that covered the base of her hairline down to her nose, leaving her mouth with its ruby lips exposed. Instead of eye holes, the mask had