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Liberatrix	By : GeorgeGlass Category: +M through R > Miraculous LadyBug Views: 4642 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous or its characters. I earned no money by writing this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
Liberatrix
by George Glass
Summary: Sequel to “Miss Match” (http://cartoon.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600095376). When Mayor Bourgeois shuts down the new Museum of Erotic Art and History, Hawk Moth akumatizes the frustrated curator into Liberatrix, who sows sexual chaos around the city. With Ladybug and Cat Noir suffering crippling aftereffects from their encounter with Miss Match, will they have any chance of stopping Liberatrix?
Note: This story is set near the end of Season 1 of Miraculous.
Note 2: If you are kind enough to leave a review, I will post a response here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/65986-george-glass-fanfic-review-response-thread/
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Chapter 1 of 3
It was the rainiest Sunday afternoon Marinette could remember. Water driven by high winds came down in sheets, lashing the sides of the buildings outside her bedroom window.
Marinette sighed. She’d been hoping to take her sketchbook to the Trocadero today, as she often found inspiration for her designs in Paris’ historical landmarks. She wondered if kids in New York or Shanghai felt the same way about the Statue of Liberty or the Oriental Pearl Tower. Maybe someday, she would find out.
But there wasn’t much inspiration to be found today. She looked down at the streets, which looked like concrete rivers as water rushed down them.
“Oh, Tikki,” Marinette sighed as she turned to her little red kwami, who was hovering nearby. “I don’t know what to do now. I’ve finished all my homework, Hawk Moth isn’t up to anything, and now my afternoon plans are-” she glanced out at the streets again, where water was rushing into the sewer grates “-down the drain. Even if I wanted to go anywhere, they’ve suspended bus service until the streets are safe again.”
“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki replied. “Is there anything I can do to help? I could quiz you on your math.”
Marinette gave a single chuckle. “No thanks, Tikki. I’m not sure what I want to do right now, but I don’t think it’s math.”
The truth was, Marinette was feeling a little…amorous. Surrounded as she was by pictures of Adrien, she was starting to feel, not her usual purely romantic feelings, but stirrings that were rather more primal. Especially down between her thighs.
Tikki chuckled. “It’s too bad you can’t invite Adrien over to make out with you.”
Blinking, Marinette turned to look at the little hovering kwami. “W- What did you say?”
“I said, it’s too bad you can’t invite Alya over to hang out with you.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Marinette replied awkwardly. “Of course it is.”
Tikki floated up in front of Marinette’s face. “Marinette, are you feeling all right?”
“Oh, sure, I’m fine,” Marinette said. “Just, you know, bummed out about all my plans being washed away by this rain.” Trying to distract herself by again gazing out at the flooded streets, she added, “It looks more like Venice than Paris out there.”
“Well, maybe Venice could be your inspiration. And if not Venice, Italy, then maybe Venice, California.”
“There’s a Venice in California?” Marinette asked. Sometimes she forgot that Tikki was uncountably old and had been basically everywhere.
“Uh-huh. It’s a sunny little beach area in Los Angeles.” With a slightly naughty look, she added, “You know, there’s a special spot there where people lift weights outside on the beach. Mostly muscular men.”
“Really…?” Marinette replied.
Into her mind sprang the image of Adrien wearing only a tight blue swimsuit, lying on a sun-warmed bench as he pressed a barbell upward again and again. The muscles in his bare arms and chest flexed with every rep, and the sun illuminated his golden hair and drew attention to his bright-blue swimsuit—and the bulge in the front of them.
“That’s what I’ll design, Tikki!” Marinette said as the image grew sharper in her mind. “A swimsuit. A boy’s swimsuit.”
“You’ve never designed one of those before,” Tikki replied.
“I’ve never had a good idea for one before,” Marinette said, grabbing up her sketchbook and a pencil. “Thanks, Tikki!”
***
Adrien gazed out the window and sighed. The pouring rain had dashed his hopes of getting a pizza with Nino today; there was no way Adrien’s father would let him go out in this weather, even with his driver.
“Plagg?” Adrien said.
There was no reply—at least, none that Adrien could hear over the sound of the rain beating against the windows.
“Plagg?” he called more loudly.
Through his open closet door, he saw movement: the lid falling off of a shoebox, and a pair of pointed black ears rising from it, followed by the rest of Plagg’s head.
“Whaddya want?” Plagg griped groggily. “I was napping.”
Adrien wrinkled his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. “Aw, jeez, have you been aging Camembert in there? Now everything in my closet is gonna stink!”
“Price of being a superhero,” Plagg replied neutrally.
“I bet Ladybug doesn’t have to put up with stuff like this from her kwami.”
“Ladybug’s got enough problems wanting to squeeze your butt all the time.”
Adrien looked agog at Plagg. “What did you say?”
“I said, Ladybug’s got enough problems having to save your butt all the time.”
“Oh…okay,” Adrien replied. Then indignation struck. “Hey! I save her butt sometimes, too!”
Adrien suddenly found himself visualizing Ladybug’s perfect butt. Her skin-tight costume showed it off in such detail that Cat Noir sometimes struggled to keep his eyes and mind on whichever villain they were fighting instead of on Ladybug’s lovely derriere.
Oblivious to Adrien’s distraction, Plagg replied, “Yeah, yeah, there’s plenty of butt-saving all around. Now close the door so I can get back to my nap, wouldja?”
Knocked out of his reverie, Adrien replied, “Fine,” and restrained himself from slamming the closet door as he shut it.
The boy sighed. The truth was, there were plenty of things he could do: He had his big TV and his gaming system, and of course there was always piano practice. But hanging out by himself had gotten old long ago. He’d be happy to do just about anything if he could do it with a friend.
Or a pretty girl, he found himself thinking.
To himself, Adrien muttered, “I just wish I had something interesting to do.”
“How about,” Plagg said through the closet door, “you go to the rooftop and pet Ladybug’s hair?”
“What?” Adrien exclaimed. Then he threw the closet door open and looked at the little black kwami. “What did you just say?”
“I said,” Plagg replied, “how about you go to the cheese shop and get more Camembert?”
“I’m losing my mind,” Adrien sighed, closing the door again. “I guess people really can go stir crazy.”
***
“This design is coming along great, Tikki,” Marinette said, looking up from her sketches. “Thanks for the inspiration! If it weren’t for you, I might be getting soaked trying to walk to the Trocadero in the rain.”
Tikki chuckled and replied, “If you wanted to get that wet, you’d go jump Adrien.”
Marinette blinked. “Wait, what?”
“I said, if you wanted to get that wet, you’d go jump in the Seine.”
“Oh,” Marinette replied. “Oh, yeah. That’s, that’s funny.”
Marinette added a few more lines to her sketch and held paper up to the light.
“It’s perfect!” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll get some fabric and try making it.”
She got up from her chair and moved to the bed, then looked at Tikki as she continued, “But right now, I could use a little, um, ‘me time.’”
“Of course, Marinette,” the kwami replied. Then Tikki—who, like all kwamis, could pass through solid objects at will—zipped down through the top of Marinette’s desk to hang out in one of the drawers.
Marinette lay down on her bed, closed her eyes, and parted her legs slightly. Then she slid her hand down under the waistband of her pants and into her panties to slowly rub her clit as she pictured Adrien wearing her tight blue swimsuit, the thin, stretchy fabric showing every detail of what was beneath.
***
The next day could not have been more different from the previous one. It was a sunny afternoon, and Marinette and her classmates were walking back to school from a field trip to a nearby historical library. Ms. Bustier, who taught them history and literature as well as being their homeroom teacher, was leading the group, her red hair shining in the sunlight. Marinette considered Ms. Bustier one of the most beautiful women she knew, and she suspected that at least a few of the kids in her class had crushes on her.
As they walked, Marinette’s new friend Babette sidled up to her. Like Marinette, the pale-skinned, long-haired brunette had a secret alter ego: She was Miss Match, who periodically sent out audio blog posts (in a digitally disguised voice) about the dating scene at Collège François Dupont, offering her opinions about who should be going out with whom. After Marinette discovered Babette’s secret, the girl had explained to Marinette her complex system for rating the romantic compatibility of any two people. Marinette considered Babette’s scheme brilliant—not least because it showed Marinette and Adrien to be 94% compatible.
“Hey, Marinette,” Babette said in a low voice, “check it out.”
Subtly, Babette pointed at Kim, who was walking next to Sabrina and was clearly making eyes at her, causing the red-haired girl to blush. Just as Babette had predicted the previous week, Kim’s relationship with Aurore Beauréal had burned out, and Babette was clearly pleased to see Kim flirting with Sabrina.
“Looks like Miss Match was right about those two,” Marinette said.
Nine days earlier, Babette had been akumatized into an evil version of Miss Match and had used her powers to force various classmates to couple up—and get very physically intimate—according to her matching scheme. Then she did the same to Ladybug and Cat Noir. After the two heroes defeated Miss Match, Ladybug’s Miraculous Ladybug power not only cleaned up the mess but also left all of the kids involved, even Marinette and Adrien, with no memory of what happened. Only Tikki and Plagg knew what had transpired during those missing twenty minutes.
“Sabrina!” Chloé Bourgeois suddenly barked, startling the red-haired girl. “I need to refresh my lip gloss. Bring me the Pineapple Rose.”
“Coming, Chloé!” Sabrina replied. Then she looked apologetically at Kim before she quickly rummaged through her purse, pulled out a tube of lip gloss, and hurried over to her blonde friend.
Moving up between Babette and Marinette, Alya murmured to them, “I guess whoever said ‘Love conquers all’ never met Chloé Bourgeois.”
“Give it time,” Babette replied.
The kids and their teacher were about three blocks from the school when they passed in front of a newly refurbished building. Two workmen on ladders had just finished putting up a sign above the double doors that read Museum of Erotic Art and History.
Marinette’s eyebrows rose. She’d been feeling vaguely aroused all morning, even while she and her classmates had toured the dusty old library. A museum devoted to eroticism sounded much more interesting.
A woman in a yellow skirt-suit with a fresh, bright-pink camellia in the jacket’s top buttonhole was watching the two workmen from the ground. Now, she turned to face the kids.
“Hello there!” the woman called, waving. She was of medium height and had wavy blonde hair, as well as what looked like an hourglass figure under her suit and faux pearls. With a cheery smile, she said, “I’m Anne Marchand, the curator of this museum. When you’re all just a bit older, we’d love to have you visit!”
Ms. Bustier thanked the woman, and the group continued on to the school. Marinette did her best not to look disappointed.
***
At City Hall, Mayor André Bourgeois was looking across his desk at a stocky, severe-faced woman who wore a brown fur hat and stole even though it was a sunny spring day. The woman hadn’t had an appointment; she had simply bulled past the receptionist and parked herself in the the mayor’s office.
“Mrs. Beauchamp,” the mayor was saying, “I’m not sure what you would like me to-”
“This so-called museum,” Madeline Beauchamp interrupted, “is only a few blocks from your daughter’s school. I should think you would be more concerned.”
“Well, I-”
“My husband, Charles, was a champion of decency in Paris—and a regular contributor to your reelection campaigns. Now that Charles has passed, if you would like that support to continue, you need to take action to halt the moral decay in this city.”
“Please, Mrs. Beauchamp,” the mayor replied, raising his palms, “let’s not be hasty. I’m sure I can do something about that museum.”
Standing up, the woman replied, “See that you do. Good day, Mr. Mayor.”
***
Early that afternoon, Anne was helping the staff prepare for the museum’s first major event: a fundraising gala to be held in the museum’s main hall that evening. They were rolling round tables out into the hall, setting them up, and putting tablecloths over them when a police lieutenant entered through the front doors, flanked by a couple of patrolmen.
“Excuse me,” the redheaded, balding Roger Raincomprix said. “Who’s in charge here?”
“That would be me,” Anne answered. “What brings you here, officer?”
“I’m sorry, miss,” Roger said, “but I’m going to have to shut you down. Your building is in violation of multiple city ordinances.” He counted on his fingers as he said, “Your sign is too big, your front steps are ten centimeters too close to the curb, and your main door is three centimeters too narrow, according to the fire code.”
“But surely, half the buildings on this block violate those codes,” Anne protested.
“And I’m sure we’ll get around to issuing citations to all of them eventually,” Roger replied. “I’m sorry, miss, but the law is the law. Everyone clear out, now.”
Roger and the two patrolmen escorted everyone out of the building. Then the officers closed the front door and secured it with a padlock and chain.
“I will be formally protesting this!” Anne spat. “This is obviously a political attack on the museum.”
“I wouldn’t know about that, ma’am,” Roger lied. “But I don’t think you’ve made a lot of friends in town by opening a museum like this one.”
“But this is Paris!” Anne protested. “Home of the Moulin Rouge, the Crazy Horse Cabaret, the erotic art of Frédillo, the sensual writing of Anaïs Nin! This has always been a city of freedom and openness!”
“You all have a good afternoon, now,” Roger said. Then he and the patrolmen departed.
***
Down in his lair, Hawk Moth watched this scene unfold with a thin smile on his lips. His huge, circular window irised open, and his white butterflies rose up from the floor to form a fluttering cloud around him.
“Ah,” the gray-masked villain said, “the powerful frustration of one whose life’s work has been thwarted. This would-be curator’s shattered dreams could make her just the agent of chaos I need to draw out Ladybug and Cat Noir.”
Cupping his hands, Hawk Moth caught one of his white butterflies from the swarm and infused it with malign energy, turning it blue-black. Then he released the butterfly. As the darkly luminous insect fluttered out the narrow opening in the center of the great round window, he said, “Fly away, my little akuma, and liberate this oppressed soul!”
***
Anne slumped on a park bench across the street from the museum. She had taken the camellia from her lapel and was holding the flower in her hands as she gazed down at it.
She had made dozens of phone calls to let people know that the fundraiser was canceled, but she couldn’t reach all the donors she was expecting that evening. Some of them would no doubt arrive in a few hours, in their fancy eveningwear; and when they did, Anne would have to tell them in person that the gala was off, and that the museum might never be allowed to open. Few moments in Anne’s life had been so disappointing or humiliating.
She didn’t notice the black butterfly fluttering down from above until it touched the camellia. Suddenly, the world around her seemed to disappear, everything rapidly fading to black. Anne stared into the dark void as a disembodied voice spoke to her.
“Liberatrix,” it said, “I am Hawk Moth. Paris’ legacy of sexual freedom has fallen victim to modern prudishness. I’m giving you the power to free the minds of those around you and restore this city to the beacon of erotic liberty that it once was. All I ask in return is that you bring me Ladybug and Cat Noir’s Miraculous.”
Anne’s despondent face broke into a wicked grin as the woman replied, “Freedom is worth any price!”
***
Louise and Marya, both second-year undergraduates at Paris’ New Sorbonne University, had no classes that afternoon and had decided to enjoy the fair weather by taking a long walk along the Seine. The two girls were discussing whether to stop at an outdoor café for a latte when they saw several of the patrons pointing at something in the sky.
They looked up and saw a woman in an outfit like something from an old comic: a golden breastplate cut so low as to expose the upper halves of the woman’s grapefruit-sized breasts, and a very short skirt of golden metal strips that alternated with brown leather. Her boots consisted mostly of a set of brown-leather straps that laced up her legs like a latticework to a point well above the knee, drawing attention to the woman’s milk-toned thighs. In her left hand, she held a pink-and-gold scepter whose disk-shaped head bore a male symbol on one side and a female one on the other. And from her back extended a pair of metallic golden wings, which flapped slowly and majestically as she hovered above the people who gazed up at her from the riverwalk.
“I am Liberatrix!” the woman in the sky shouted. “I have come to free you all from the shackles of sexual oppression!”
Louise and Marya barely had a chance to register this strange declaration before a yellow-gold beam lanced down from the flying woman’s scepter and struck them both. The two students blinked for a moment from the bright light, then looked at each other.
“It’s such a beautiful day,” Louise said, suddenly excited. “Why did we bother wearing clothes?”
“Exactly!” the Polish-accented Marya agreed.
With abandon, both girls stripped down to their bras and panties. At about the same time, Liberatrix zapped a pair of men, also of college age, who had just been coming up the riverwalk.
“Wow!” one of the guys shouted at the two half-naked young women. “You two look hot!”
“And I feel hot!” his friend said, stripping off his shirt and then his shoes and pants.
The other young man did the same, and then the two pairs of friends ran at each other and began making out even as Liberatrix zapped more people on the riverbank with her golden beam. They cheered at the sight of the four young people passionately kissing and fondling one another even as they stripped off their own clothes.
***
A short while later, at Collège François Dupont, Marinette’s gym class had just let out. Now, Marinette and the other girls in Ms. Bustier’s class were getting cleaned up and dressed to face the rest of the school day. Although there was plenty of chatting amongst the girls, most of them were facing their lockers, avoiding looking at their half-dressed classmates and avoiding being looked at, as well. Thus, the girls were very much caught off guard when the locker room door burst open and a woman in a cleavage-baring golden breastplate and golden wings appeared in the doorway, hovering just above the floor.
“Hello, girls!” the woman said. “I am Liberatrix, and it hurts my heart to see you all being so shy. Let me liberate you!”
The room had a central bank of lockers, and Marinette’s locker was on the opposite side from the door, which meant that Liberatrix and Marinette couldn’t yet see each other. But having fought more than a dozen of Hawk Moth’s unwitting minions, Marinette knew the haughty ranting of an akumatized villain when she heard it.
Marinette had no way to escape; the doorway in which Liberatrix was hovering was the only way in or out of the locker room. So, as other girls moved to the edge of the bank of lockers to peer around the corner at the intruder, Marinette climbed into her own locker and quietly shut the door.
But what was she to do now? She couldn’t just transform and come bursting out of her locker without risking one of the other girls seeing her and realizing that Marinette and Ladybug were one and the same.
I’ll just have to wait Liberatrix out, she thought, at least as long as she isn’t physically hurting anyone. Whatever else she does, I’ll have to count on my Miraculous Ladybug to undo it later.
At this point, she heard some of the girls running and screaming. Then, through the vents in the locker door, Marinette saw several flashes of golden light.
“Hey girls!” she heard Alix say. “How about we go visit the boys in their locker room?”
“Yeah!” “Great idea! “Woohoo!” the other girls variously shouted. Then Marinette heard them all stampeding out the door.
The boys’ locker room? Marinette thought. Why would they want to go there?
It didn’t sound like there was anyone left in the locker room, so Marinette cautiously stepped out of her locker. Tikki flew out of her purse and hovered in front of her.
“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Marinette said, “but I’m very sure that Ladybug needs to get involved. Tikki, spots on!”
***
Outside, in the school’s central courtyard, Caline Bustier was looking for her students. They all had Classical French Literature with her after gym class, and the bell was about to ring, yet none of them had yet appeared in her classroom. It wasn’t unusual for a few students to show up at the last second—Marinette in particular—but Caline had never seen them all do so on the same day. She’d double-checked her day planner to make sure she wasn’t confused about the schedule, but she wasn’t.
She saw Mr. D’Argencourt, the school’s fencing instructor, and assistant teacher Mr. Haprèle talking in the courtyard and went over to them.
“Armand, Fred,” she said, “have either of you seen my students? Not a single one of them has-”
“Teachers!” a voice shouted from above. All three instructors looked up and saw a woman hovering above them on golden wings. “It’s time for you to set a good example for your students through…liberation!”
Liberatrix hit all three adults with her golden beam. Caline had been frightened, being certain that this woman was one of Hawk Moth’s akumatized villains, but now Caline scarcely paid any heed to the valkyrie-like woman as she flew away. Now, Caline felt…free. And happy. And horny.
***
Having just finished gym class, Adrien and the other guys in Ms. Bustier’s class were in the boys’ locker room, quickly changing and showering so they could hustle to class. Jean DuParc was there, too; he was in Mrs. Mendeliev’s class but had come by during a free period to retrieve a textbook he’d forgotten in his gym locker.
Adrien had just pulled on his pants and shirt when he glimpsed a bright flash of yellow light out one of the room’s high windows. He jumped up onto a bench to look outside and saw a trio of his teachers in the courtyard, all of them blinking as though they’d just looked directly at a camera flash.
Adrien wasn’t sure what was going on, so he was as surprised as anyone when, moments later, the girls all burst through the door to the boys’ locker room. And he was especially surprised to see someone hovering above the crowd of girls: a woman with golden wings and a scepter.
“Hey!” the startled Ivan shouted, rapidly pulling up his pants.
“Why do we even need separate boys’ and girls’ locker rooms?” Alix said as she strode in. “It’s way more fun to share.”
“Yeah,” Juleka agreed. As usual, her voice was barely more than a whisper, but she was looking at the half-naked boys with undisguised lust.
“Oh, no need to be shy, young men,” Liberatrix said, swooping in through the doorway and hovering above the girls. “You’re about to be liberated!”
She raised her scepter, and beams of golden light fanned out from it. Adrien only just managed to dive behind a bank of lockers to avoid being struck like all the other boys.
Ivan blinked, a golden shimmer in his eyes. Then he let his pants fall to the floor, so that he stood there only in his T-shirt and black boxer shorts.
“Hey guys,” he said again, in a far less alarmed and more eager tone. “Looks like we’ve got some uninvited guests in our locker room.”
“Yeah,” said Kim, his eyes also shimmering with gold for a moment as he grinned wickedly at the girls. He was wearing only a towel, and several of the girls were openly ogling his well-muscled chest. “I guess we’re gonna have to do something about that.”
The shirtless Nino shouted, “Get ‘em!” and took off after Alya. She and the other girls shrieked gaily and scattered as the boys chased them around the locker room.
Rose, who was clearly not trying very hard to escape, was “caught” by Nathaniel and let him press her against a locker before she turned around to make out with him. Juleka, seized from behind by Jean, bent forward slightly and ground her ass against his crotch long and slow, smiling slyly as she felt it bulge ever more prominently against her bottom. Even Chloé, who usually had very few good things to say about any boy at Dupont except for Adrien, seemed rather pleased when Kim grabbed her and pulled her almost-naked chest to his fully naked one and looked smokily into her eyes. And then Sabrina, in an act of uncharacteristic boldness, appeared beside them and put a hand on each one’s ass, smirking shyly as she gave both their bottoms a little squeeze.
Adrien, meanwhile, had managed to slip out the locker room door and into the gym, where he quickly took cover in the equipment room. Then he looked down into his shirt pocket.
“Looks like it’s go time, Plagg,” Adrien whispered.
Plagg, who had apparently been napping again, yawned and replied, “Do we hafta? I was right in the middle of a really nice dream.” He gazed upward as he added wistfully, “A one-tenth scale model of the Alps…carved entirely out of Camembert…”
“You’ll have to hike the cheese mountains later,” Adrien replied. “Plagg, claws out!”
***
Ladybug had just run into the gym in pursuit of Liberatrix. Ever since the episode of missing time the previous week, Marinette had felt a little strange—strangely horny, if she was honest with herself—every time she entered the gym. Had something happened there?
But those thoughts were swept aside when a black-clad figure suddenly burst out of a metal door on the side wall.
“Cat Noir?” Ladybug exclaimed. “What were you doing in the equipment room?”
“Oh, you know me, milady,” Cat Noir replied casually. “I’m always ready to have a ball. Or make a racket.”
Before Ladybug could tell Cat Noir that there was no time for jokes, she was proven right by a flash of golden light outside the window.
“Come on!” she shouted, and dashed outside. Cat Noir followed close behind her.
Liberatrix was flying out of the courtyard and over the roof of the school building, and she didn’t appear to notice when Ladybug and Cat Noir used their yo-yo and staff, respectively, to launch themselves up onto the school rooftop to chase after her. At least, not until Ladybug snagged the flying woman’s ankle with her yo-yo. Liberatrix looked back and down at Ladybug with surprise.
“Time to ground you!” Ladybug shouted.
Using her enhanced strength, Ladybug yanked on her line. But instead of resisting, Liberatrix turned and flew right at Ladybug, firing golden beams at her and Cat Noir. The two heroes were forced to dodge the brilliant rays as Liberatrix swooped past them, having put enough slack in Ladybug’s yo-yo line that she could easily free herself from it as she ascended again. Then she turned and fired more beams at her two opponents.
“Very good, Liberatrix,” Hawk Moth said. “If you can hit Ladybug and Cat Noir with your beam, they’ll dismiss their costumes so they can undress. Then, not only will I learn their secret identities, but they may even remove their Miraculous voluntarily! And if not, you know what to do.”
“Of course, Hawk Moth,” Liberatrix replied. “I will capture their jewels for you one way or another.”
She fired another volley of beams at Ladybug, who spun her yo-yo to deflect them.
“Come now, Ladybug!” Liberatrix called. “That skin-tight costume of yours makes it obvious what a lovely young body you have.”
With a sweep of her hand, she indicated the walkway next to the Seine, where the many people she had “liberated” earlier were variously stripping off their clothes, making out with strangers, or running around nude. “Don’t you want to show your naked beauty to all those nice, horny people down there, who are sure to appreciate it?”
“No way, you winged weirdo!” Ladybug shouted back as she blocked another of Liberatrix’s beams. “My body’s a temple, not a tourist attraction!”
I’d worship at that temple every day if I could, Cat Noir thought.
He planted one end of his staff on the edge of the rooftop, then extended the weapon rapidly, launching himself at the hovering Liberatrix to land a flying kick on her midsection. The winged villain cried “Ooof!” and fell several feet before she managed to turn her body fully vertical again and flap her wings rapidly to stop her descent. Cat Noir, meanwhile, landed on a nearby balcony.
Ladybug decided to make good use of her opponent’s momentary distraction. She hurled her yo-yo into the air and shouted, “Lucky charm!”
Nothing happened. There was no burst of magical energy, and no ladybug-spotted mystery object appeared. The yo-yo simply landed in Ladybug’s hand again.
“What?” the superheroine gasped.
“Don’t worry, Ladybug,” Cat Noir called. “I’ve got this!”
He fast-climbed up to the roof, then raised his clawed hand in the air and shouted “Cataclysm!” before he he took off running across the rooftop toward Liberatrix.
“Cat Noir, wait!” Ladybug shouted after him, but he was already out of earshot.
The moment he was close enough, Cat Noir turned and leaped diagonally off the roof, flying at Liberatrix. The moment he got within arm’s reach, he raked his claws at her scepter, producing a metallic grating sound.
But that sound was the only effect his claws had. Cat Noir looked at the intact, unblemished weapon with surprise as he plummeted down and then splashed into the Seine.
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Liberatrix