Maya is enjoying her patrol so far. The city has been fairly calm, and she always enjoys the rain. Perhaps the criminals are trying to stay dry.

Whatever the reason, there is little to compete for her attention when that scent drifts across her senses. Lust, desire, a need to blossom, a need to become more, and power.

Someone is having a particularly potent and lust-filled awakening.

She follows the aroma back to the source.

It's coming from one of the wealthier parts of the city by it's core, the smell drifting up into the air from a fairly large rebrick house. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong yet, but there's a barely visible ripple in the air that slightly slows the sheets of rain that reach it, and a dozen torn open cardboard boxes strewn haphazardly across the porch, and a ripped open hole where a doorbell would go. 

Clues, yes. There is an awakening occurring in this house.

She licks her lips, then knocks sharply on the door. (Not with anything remotely close to her full strength, of course.) A hint of allure rolls out around her, subtly encouraging arousal and discouraging shame.

There's nothing, for a while, then she lumbers forward, visible as a diffuse shadow through the window. She leans against the door, panting, a fog misting up the glass as with each heavy horny breath she heaves. 

This close, the smell is thick and musky, now, the feminine scent soaked into the walls, with a touch of zest from something a little unusual. 

The door half-creaks open, before she bites down a curse and settles the door back into place. 

Predictable, understandable, but no. Her hand slips into the crack the instant the new awakener starts to close the door. The door is insufficiently durable to damage her fingers. If it is closed hard enough, her fingers might damage the door, but the new awakener does not smell of superstrength.

"You are almost certainly awakening to new powers, dear, and quite strong ones at that, judging by the lust roiling within you. I do not recommend trying to bottle that up. You need someone you can safely express that with, before the need becomes too great to control."

There is nothing to be ashamed of, her aura says. Arousal is welcome and good. Lust is welcome and good. 

She steps back with a thick swallow, and stumbles, letting the door swing open, before steadying herself. Her breath catches in her throat as she stares, a glassy-eyed lust in her gaze. 

She's beautiful, in the way only an awakener can be, cobalt blue eyes and hair glimmering like gems, her sweat-slick skin shining like smooth stone, her face glowing a pretty pink, somehow poised and angelically inviting despite the harsh flush, her lips a perfectly pert sultry bow. An utterly soaked plain white shirt shows just how stacked she is, thick sucklable nipples straining through the transparent shirt, every quivering breath a fascinating feast for the eye as her breasts regally ripple, showing off just how perfectly sculpted and squishable they are. Her stomach heaves, showing off the incredible definition of her amazonian abs and the hyponitizing flow of her hourglass hips, a kingly comely cock straining in air above her orange-sized blue balls, gleaming with the grease of her need, her hefty cock dripping with superhuman virility. 

Something tells her with the certainty that the sky is blue that she is the sexiest and most beautiful thing in all creation, even now.  

She nods, not really trusting her ability to say anything more as countless confused fantasies storm through her head - of filling her every hole, of smacking her ass, making her worship her breasts or balls, blurring together into a ferocious fuzz of furious longing. She vibrates slightly like a weak speedster, clenching down on the impulse to run, channeling into standing tall and showing off for this beautiful babe before her, smelling of the lacquer and steel of a somewhat switchy baby domme's desires.