Supergirl Captured by the Mob-Story

A darker, full bodied blend.
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Long Night’s Journey Into Day
Part 35-B


Stevie is a very busy man. The amount of editing he has before him is huge. Gotta be more than 20 hours worth of recordings, going back to Sergei’s sessions with Wonder Woman from the night before. He takes a sip of the cold coffee from the Pleasure Dome mug before him and grimaces. Standing up, he goes to the microwave, puts the cup in and sets it for a minute on high. He then picks up the nearby phone and calls in a pizza order. The restaurant has the address on file complete with instructions on how to get in the building for the delivery. One large pepperoni and a liter of Pepsi. He had a long night in front of him. It would make him rich beyond his dreams. At least, it had so far. Just yesterday, he had ordered a new midnight blue Corvette with the proceeds from the existing DVD sales. A few long nights was nothing with payback like this coming in day after day. The Supergirl series was a worldwide phenomenon. He suspected that the Wonder Woman series would do at least as well. The stuff was hot!

Suddenly Stevie wonders if he should have had Luthor sign a release. The litigious son of a bitch might want part of the sales take. Bald-headed prick. It would be just like him. Letting out a heavy sigh, Stevie opens the door of the microwave and takes out the heavy mug and blows on the now hot coffee. He goes back to the monitor showing the cut of where Wonder Woman’s face goes wide with shock as the mechanical fucking machine enters her snatch for the first time. He did so much enjoy his work.


* * *


Carmine’s cell phone sounds off loudly from within his pocket as he sits quietly drinking his third scotch and water and trying to figure out all the angles of their problem with Don Lupenzo. Tony is inside the bedroom either sleeping or thinking or jacking off. Carmine didn’t have a clue as to which one it was. He looks at the cell phone face. “LUPENZO IMPORTS”

“Shit,” Carmine scowls at the phone, not even wanting to answer it. The time on the phone said 8:15 p.m. Only three hours til the deadline, not that it mattered. Tony wasn’t going to produce Superman out of his hat like a rabbit in some magic show. Tony and his crew were fucked. Now Carmine had to tap dance with Gino so he could buy some time before the actual fucking of Tony and his crew would come down.

“Hello,” Carmine answers the phone with a jolly tone he absolutely does not feel.

“What the fuck are you so happy about?” Don Gino Lupenzo barks at the other end of the call. “The deadline’s here and I ain’t heard a peep from any news show about Superman showin’ up. What’s the deal, Carmine? We had an understanding.”

“Gino?”

“Yeah, you fuck, it’s Gino. Don’t get cute, Carmine. Tell me what’s goin’ on. Now.”

“Tony’s working on a special....”

“Fuck Tony. You have Superman or not. You releasing him or not. You like living or not?”

“Look, Gino, there are things you can say to me and things you can’t. You’re crossing the line here. We go back a long way so I’m willing to overlook bad manners but....”

“You know what bad manners are, Carmine. Welching on a deal. Goin’ back on your word. Trying to weasel out of what you promised. That’s what bad manners are, Carmine, and that’s what it sounds like I’m hearin’ here. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“The deadline’s not here, Gino. It’s not for three hours. Don’t call me. I’ll call you!” Gino snaps the phone shut and breathes out heavily. He downs the rest of his full drink at nice quick clip. Fucking Tony Bonano is going to get me killed yet. By a bullet to the head or by stroke. One way or another, I’m goin’ down.



* * *


Kara slowly circles around the end of the bed toward Sergei, carefully eyeing the taser in his hand. With her shackles, Wonder Woman would be at a disadvantage in a fight and Kara wanted to protect her. She knew she was probably going to get tasered by Sergei but she would go down fighting. She was just sorry that she was so weak from the damn kryptonite collar but that wouldn’t stop her from trying.

Sergei, for his part, watches both women warily but with confidence. The blonde had the glowing green choke collar nullifying those amazing powers of hers so she could be had. The black haired one was more crafty and those chains, while eliminating her incredible strength, could be used as a weapon that he had to guard against. His large size and bulk were to his advantage if it came down to close hand-to-hand fighting. He liked his chances.

With a sudden lunge, Sergei thrusts his taser in Supergirl’s direction and then steps back smiling. “Careful little girl, this gizmo can make you stupider than you already are!”

“Too bad it can’t make you better looking, Sergie!”

“I’ll look pretty good to you when I’m fucking you while you are high on crack in a few minutes, Super Bitch. Oh yeah, I am knowing that look. You are more than ready for your precious crack, are you not, sweet Supergirl?” Another lunge from Sergei backs Kara up to the end of the bed before she can cut to her left and block him from Diana.

“Kara, go the other way. Outflank him. I can handle myself,” Wonder Woman says calmly as she looks at Sergei as he shifts his weight from one foot to another, ready to make another lunge depending on how Supergirl moves.

“Yes, outflank me, little Kara,” Sergei coos. “Listen to the Amazon warrior. She knows her battle strategies.” Sergei thumbs the taser to full power. The recharge rate was eight seconds. That might be too damn long unless he could hold one of the bitches off him until he had power again for a second shot to take out the remaining heroine. Half power had a recharge rate of four seconds but he wasn’t sure that level shock would be enough to put both of these bitches down long enough to get the drugs into them. Kara does start to circle to her right as per Diana’s orders but Sergei’s waving taser cuts her off. She backs up in a kind of standoff among the three of them.

“Oooh, are you two in trouble,” says Sergei. “You agreed to whore for Tony. To follow instructions and to be good little girls. This is not what I am calling good. Give up and I won’t taser you. Plus, I will give you the drugs I know you want. How about a nice crack pipe, Supergirl? Sound good? I know your body craves it. You’re nervous and sweaty and need your fix. Put your hands down and I’ll give you the pipe. Tony agreed to the primo stuuuufff,” Sergei draws out the words with a high inflection and his eyebrows bounce up at this. “What do you say, blondie?”

“Ignore him, Kara. Be careful. Watch his foot, he’s shifting for another lunge.”

“How about you, Wonder Cunt? Ready for a nice shot of heroin to loosen up that pussy of yours. I know how much you love my cock in you. You were screaming for me to move it faster just last night.”

“I wanted you to move faster because I couldn’t stand looking at your ugly face any more than I absolutely had to, Sergie boy.”

“You will be learning how to pronounce my name correctly even with my cock in your mouth, Amazon bitch.”

“That’s the only way it could come out sounding like a normal name, Russian prick.” Diana rushes forward two steps and fakes a leg kick before jumping back out of Sergei’s sweeping pass at her with the taser. To his side, Kara rushes at the distracted blonde thug but she’s not fast enough to get to his arm before it drops out of her range. Off balance, Kara tries to step back but Sergei thrusts out at her with the taser. It’s tip is three inches from Kara’s chest. Wonder Woman rushes in, trying to grab Sergei’s arm and stop Kara from being shocked. In a brilliant, almost balletic move, Sergei tosses the taser from one hand to his other waiting hand and jabs Wonder Woman directly in the chest with the taser at full power.

“GHUUHN!” Wonder Woman’s body jerks back violently, her eyes roll up and she flies backward for three feet, landing on the carpet with a loud thud. Her body shakes and trembles helplessly on the floor, her spit flying in all directions as the electrical charge surges through her body in all directions. “UUHHN...UUHHN...UUHHN....UUHHN.... UUUNNHHH”

Kara rushes forward toward Sergei only to have his elbow fly up and catch her directly in the mouth.

“DIAN...OWW!” Supergirl’s hand goes to her bleeding mouth and her head swivels sideways sharply from the blow. Sergei turns, once more throws the taser to his opposite hand and comes into the stunned Maid of Steel with a hard, piercing right-handed knuckle punch to her stomach that bends the teenage wonder over in gasping, wheezing pain. As she tries to catch her breath which seems to take forever, Sergei finally sees the recharge light go green on the taser and he calmly places the device against an unwary Supergirl’s neck and presses the stun button.

The beautiful blonde champion’s body spasms harshly, her neck arcing back, her arms flailing and her knees wobbling badly. As Sergei pulls the taser away, Supergirl’s eyes go dull, flat and lifeless and she falls to the floor in a heap, her head on the carpet, her knees tucked under her and her arms spread out in opposite directions. The famous blonde heroine jerks and twitches helplessly as the remainder of the electrical shock plays out in her system.

Sergei looks from drooling female heroine to another. Full shocks for both and not a problem in sight. He was thrilled. They will be incapacitated long enough for him to shoot them up with their crack and heroin with time to spare. The stupid bitches were going back into drug training and he was looking forward to administering their punishment.

Of course, there’s no way that Sergei could know that Tony had just come to the sad conclusion that Supergirl would have to released to save his own skin.


* * *


“That’s great news Tony,” Carmine is pumping Tony Bonano’s hand with an overly-energetic handshake, the relief in the burly Don’s face is obvious. “Great news. Let me call Don Lupenzo back and straighten things out right now. I think at least one superhero returned will get the families off our backs for the mean time. ”

“Not so fast, Carm,” Tony says, holding his hand up. “There are a few things we have to get straight before you can call. The timing for one thing. She’s not being released tonight. That just can’t happen. This is going to take some careful planning and we’re going to have to be sure Supergirl gives us her promise not to retaliate against us. That may take some doing before she can be...persuaded to agree to such a promise.

“Now Gino’s goin’ to think that’s a stall tactic so we’re going to have to give up Luthor’s three million, well, maybe two mill will do it, just to keep him happy with the stall once we promise to release her. Hell, we can afford that, we’ve taken in over 110 million bucks on this series. In any case, that money and the promise to release Supergirl still may not be enough to get him to back off. We will have to show him the DVD of Luthor carrying off Superman to explain why its her being released. He knows that the whole terrorist thing is a dodge so it won’t matter that he sees Wonder Woman in the scenes. But I’ll explain that the Amazon DVDs will keep money coming into the families general fund. He just may buy it. He won’t like the stall of Supergirl’s release but if we explain how we’re trying to protect the families and not just us against her retaliation I think he’ll go along. The two million will make it easier for him to swallow. What do you think, Carm?”

Carmine looks at his watch. 9:55 p.m. An hour and a half until deadline. This would be tight.

“I think we’ve got to meet with him before the deadline and show him the DVD. On neutral ground. This is chancy, Ton. He may be so steamed that he’s coming armed and ready to hit us before we even open up our laptop to show him the DVD. After the DVD and the two million, I do think he’ll buy it. He’ll want a fast release. One day, maybe two at the most. That’s what I’d want. He’s doin’ us a favor. Two million won’t buy us even a week.”

“That greedy fuck!” Tony begins to pace the room.

“It’s just good business, Ton. Keep the pressure on us.” Carmine says. “Keeps him in control.”

“I don’t want to get sloppy about Supergirl, that’s all. If she’s not playing ball, there’s no game here, Carmine. We both know that. I’d go to the mattresses before I let her go without being sure of her not coming after us. Don’t you think I’m right on that?”

“Yeah, I don’t want that girl looking to get revenge for all we’ve done to her. Of course it doesn’t mean she won’t send her friends after us. We could be facin’ any number of spandex do-gooders, you know. Batman, for one. That guy gives me the creeps. Or the Flash guy. We could be wrapped up in ropes before we could even get off a shot. Or how’d you like to have the Fantastic Four on our case? I’m fuckin’ surprised nobody’s shown up here already to get her or Superman out.”

“Me too. I figured they were slowed down when they saw how easily that overgrown boy scout was taken out. Maybe they’re planning an all-out team assault. Who knows. But right now it’s Gino and the families behind him that are our first concern.”

“Well, let me call him and set up tonight’s meet.”

“Wait one minute.”

“What the fuck is it now, Tony?”

“Hey, Carmine. Chill. I want to get this done, too. I’m just calling Sergei for a status report. For all we know, the ladies jumped out a window and we got nothing to offer.”

“There are bars on all the windows, aren’t there?”

“Yes. It was just an example, you dumb Guinea.”

“No dumber than you, ya stupid fuck.”

“Shut up, I’m on the phone. Sergei, it’s me. What’s going on upstairs? I thought I heard a couple of loud thumps up there. Really. Both of them. I’m impressed. You didn’t give them the shots yet, did you? Already? You’re too fucking efficient, you Russian bastard. Alright fine. Come back down, they’re not going anywhere on that stuff for a half hour easy. I’ve got to fill you in on some new plans. Alright. See you in a couple. Nice work, Sergei.”

“What now?” Carmine’s face is tense with worry about new complications.

“The ladies gave him static about getting the shots. He took them both out with his taser then shot ‘em up. We’ll have to approach the subject with Supergirl after our meet with Don Lupenzo. We’ll have to fly blind about that and try to work the timing of her release in our favor as much as possible. It’s not a huge problem. I don’t think.”

“We’re making a promise we’re not sure we can keep. That would be the ballgame if it falls through, Tony.” Carmine looks Bonano in the eye with a frown.

“True enough, Carmine, but what else can we do. We only have an hour or so to get this squared away enough to give us time to work the angles with Supergirl. We’ve got to work with the hand we got.”

“Feels like we’re holding a pair of sevens against three kings to me.”

“So we bluff until the draw,” Tony smiles for the first time in hours. He’s a damn good poker player.


* * *


Kara’s head is filled with a floating sense of peace and happiness she hasn’t felt in what seemed like days and days. The crack that Sergei had injected into her arm was truly magnificent stuff. She’s unaware that a line of drool is seeping out of her mouth and onto the bedspread as she luxuriates in the crack high. Her hand is casually stuffed down her shorts and she is playing with herself, rubbing her clitoris with a slow, steady rhythm that is just beginning to pick up her breathing. She’s thinking about Lex Luthor’s large cock in her pussy thrusting away in rapid, powerful strokes. Her smile is wide and her eyes are tightly shut as, yet again, Supergirl’s new habits get the better of her.

Out in the living room, Wonder Woman is sprawled on the couch in a dreamy daze of her own. The powerful heroin coursing through her system fills her brain with a mushy sense of total ease and satisfaction. Treated to a careful dose of some of the best uncut heroin on the East Coast, the Amazon princess lies buried deep in the cushions of the leather couch. At the moment, the powerful, beautiful Wonder Woman is a stupefied, helpless wreck who couldn’t pronounce Themyscira, the name of her home island, on a bet.


* * *


At 11:21 p.m., Tony and Carmine are sitting across the table from Don Gino Lupenzo and his two goons, Tino and Basso, in a booth at Junior’s Restaurant on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn. They are just wrapping up their meeting with the grim-faced Don amidst a gaggle of loud-talking tourists enjoying that restaurant’s famous cheesecake. In front of all the participants, their own full-sized 10" round cheesecake has been left untouched. Carefully sectioned into large slices of cherry-topped creamy wonder, the cake has been ignored during the tense discussion among the three men. Ignored, that is, except by Tino and Basso who have been eyeing the cake with frustrated anticipation the entire time Tony and Carmine are bartering for their very lives with their boss.

“Well, Don Bonano, you and Don Vega have given me quite a headache over the last few weeks,” Gino Lupenzo says. “Capturing superheroes and releasing videos and not letting them go...”

“And putting eight million dollars in the general fund in that same time, I might add.” Tony injects with proud assertion.

The icy glare from Lupenzo freezes Tony’s blood momentarily. He had to kiss this guy’s butt and here he was mouthing off. He had to be cooler than this. Carmine looks at him with his own chilly gaze.

“I apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused,” Tony continues, a much softer tone to his words now. “I admit my ambition exceeds my good sense every now and then. But I am a good earner for the families...”

“And yourself.” It is Don Lupenzo doing the interrupting now, trading bad manners to prove a point and exert control at the same time.

“Point given,” Tony nods. “But I do understand your distaste for my high-profile ways and will be scaling back all those activities which draw attention to the families. As I said, once our powerful blonde friend gives her promise not to take her vengeance out on family locations, she will be released and much of the heat will be eased in the media. About the powerful gentleman in blue, I can do little. I have contacts with Mr. Luthor and I will negotiate for the man’s release but I doubt he will comply. You have seen the DVD and how he talked to Superman,” Tony says, lowering his voice and leaning forward slightly at the hero’s name so he’s not overheard. “The animosity there is too great.”

“When will the girl be released? Assuming I can calm down the other heads of the families, Don Bonano. And, by the way, that is not as easy a task as you seem to believe. Her release will go a long way to soothing their rattled nerves. However, releasing her is not nearly as good as releasing the hero in blue. I believe you blundered badly in not releasing him sooner and to let this Lex Luthor criminal even get near him.”

Ignoring the reprimands doled out by the frowning Don, Tony addresses the question at hand. “I am hoping to release her in a week, Don Lupenzo.”

“Hmmph. Please do not insult me, Don Bonano, or the families behind us. You must do better than that. Seriously better.” Gino looks at Tony with cool expectancy.

“What would seem reasonable to you, Don Lupenzo?”

“To me, Don Bonano, immediately seems reasonable. However, I understand the restrictions you described. I also do not wish for the blonde heroine to seek revenge on you by attacking our families’ properties. But the question is, do you really believe you can get her to make such a promise? Have you posed this to her already?”

“She has mentioned her willingness in the past to do whatever is necessary to effect her release. I expect her attitude has not changed.” Tony is talking about Supergirl’s desperation from weeks ago but Don Lupenzo didn’t have to know that.

“Well then, Don Bonano, if she agrees I would expect you to release her by Sunday evening, 48 hours from now.”

“I may have to prepare defenses for my headquarters even if she gives her word, Don Lupenzo. I would respectfully request until Monday night for her release,” Tony asks smoothly.

“You can request as respectfully as you like, Tony,” Don Lupenzo says slowly and sternly. Using Tony’s first name is like a sudden slap to Tony’s face by the adamantly respectful Don Lupenzo. It’s a clear sign of how angry he is at this sudden shift and how he was hung on a hook for so long. “But it’s 48 hours and no more. Be happy you have that! It is only due to your considerate donations to the families’ general fund over the past month, and to your promise to curtail the flagrant behavior of yours that seems to draw the media’s attention to our families concerns like flies to honey, that I will present your renegotiated terms to the families at all. This is all most displeasing. Look, it is late and I have my grandson’s birthday party tomorrow so you will have to wait until Sunday morning, Don Bonano, for an answer from the families that your terms of substituting Supergirl for Superman are acceptable. You should proceed as if it will be acceptable. I will talk to you Sunday. Make this happen, Tony. I’d hate to lose such a valuable earner as yourself.” Don Lupenzo rises and, startled, Tino and Basso rise seconds after him. Good luck with the girl, gentlemen. I will call you Sunday, late morning, Carmine. I trust you will take my call."

“Absolutely, Don Gino. I look forward to settling all this amicably by then.”

“Indeed.” Don Lupenzo motions for his men to follow him and he heads for the door. The two big lugs follow him reluctantly, following him through the tables but looking back longingly at the cherry cheese they must leave behind.

“Well, that went as well as could be expected,” Carmine says, forking a big slice of the cheesecake onto his plate and digging into it with gusto.

“The fucking pig eats two million dollars of mine and has the balls to lecture me about my behavior? I wanted to whack him right then and there,” Tony simmers on near boil even as he too digs into the creamy dessert with a stabbing fork and angry, jerky movements.

“Yeah, well, that’s Gino for you. I think we can get the girl to comply in two days, don’t you,” Carmine asks, savoring the taste of the dessert.

“I suspect we can. But I got to tell you, Carmine, I’m actually going to miss the little minx.”

“Maybe so. Let’s just hope that the little minx doesn’t come screaming back at us like a guided missile despite her promise.”

“Yeah, well, there is that!”
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
Abductorenmadrid
Millenium Member
Millenium Member
Posts: 1376
Joined: 11 years ago
Contact:

A good bit of "fire fighting" by Tony and Carmine there, staving off disaster. Somehow they keep holding on but it seems the more they twist and turn the more likely it is they are going to get burned. At least Sergei is earning his pay but what will he think when SG is gone? There is so much more to this tale than the title ever suggested would happen!
My avatar courtesy of https://www.deviantart.com/sleepy-comics

My current story is Supergirl V Bane


This is all the stuff I've done here but don't tell anyone about this!
batgirl_brandy_wayne
Neophyte Lvl 2
Neophyte Lvl 2
Posts: 19
Joined: 9 years ago

Love stories by dominator! So much detail and story, hard to find many others who are on par! Bravo! Bravo!
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Supergirl’s Sudden Withdrawal
Part 36


When Tony gets back from Junior’s Restaurant, he heads right up to the penthouse suite in The Pleasure Dome to talk to Supergirl. As he walks out of the elevator into the quiet suite, he hears Wonder Woman gently snoring on the couch before he sees her. He walks closer, listening to her soft cat-like rolls of quiet nasal purring. Occasionally the purring is broken by hesitant little snorts that emanate from the beautiful black-haired beauty as she slumbers deeply after a very, very long day. She had drifted off after the heavy dose of heroine from Sergei, who himself is sitting on the opposite side of the plush leather sectional. He is simply watching the lovely Amazon sleep and trying not to doze off himself.

Tony surveys the sleeping female with deep appreciation of the sight before him. The shapely Amazon is wearing a tight t-shirt and tight black nylon shorts that show off her world-class figure with breath-taking definition. Her wrists are shackled with a generous length of the light titanium links, ensuring her mighty Amazon strength is reduced to that of merely a strong, athletic woman. Tony takes a deep breath and takes solace in the fact that although he will be losing Supergirl in the next day, he will still have Wonder Woman to enjoy as a plaything and a serious money-maker from her own series of DVDs. He had hoped to have Supergirl much longer but, he thinks, if you want to give God a good laugh, tell him your plans.

“Where’s Supergirl,” whispers Tony to Sergei, “In the bedroom?”

“Da,” responds the large blonde Russian softly. “Sleeping as well.”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to wake her up for a little heart to heart,” Tony continues to speak softly. He motions to Sergei to stand up. “Come into the kitchen area for a moment, Sergei. I don’t want to wake up our pretty princess here.”

After walking fifteen feet away, Tony and Sergei stand close together near the humming refrigerator, whispering for a good ten minutes about how Tony wants to effect the release tomorrow. Sergei is nodding and gesturing mildly and the two men come to an agreement on how the whole procedure will go. Sergei nods thoughtfully. It seemed to be a good plan. He was going to miss having the blonde around to fuck over but he realized the need to give her up. They could all be screwed big time by this man Don Lupenzo unless Supergirl was released. But Tony’s plan at least made the best of a bad situation. If it all went well.

“Okay, make sure your end of things goes right and we should be good.,” Tony says. “Take what you need from the safe. And make sure everything goes like clockwork. That’s important, okay?”

“Da, Tony. I am on it. You can trust me in this. I have good men with cool heads I can use for this.”

“Good. I’m going to go in and talk with Supergirl now. How long ago did you give her the crack pipe? And how much?”

“She had a full bowl of the good stuff about an hour and a half ago. She fell asleep like her friend. Pretty fast, especially after she diddled herself,” Sergei grins. “Crack and cum, together always with this one.”

“Heavy conditioning. She may just be fucked up for the rest of her life. Who knows. What a waste to have to let her go. But I sure can’t think of any other way to handle it, can you?”

“No, Tony Bonano. I cannot either.”

“Hmm. Well, let’s set up a client for Wonder Woman tomorrow afternoon. She’s agreed to be a whore. Let’s put her to work and give the DVD series some more footage. Who have we got in the pipeline?”

“For her first customer, I thought we would offer the stuck up Amazon whore to Don Corronado," Sergei replies. "He is a man of particular appetites that will reinforce to the haughty bitch that she is very much under our control and must do as we say.”

“I’m not sure I know the man. What kind of appetites are we talking about?”

“He is from Newark. Waste disposal mostly. Bright guy, in his late 30's. A mover, and an earner. He comes recommended by Don Tuzzini out of Cliffside Park. Another Jersey guy.”

“Tuzzini and I went to high school together in Brooklyn,” Tony interrupts. “before he moved to Jersey to be near his wife’s family. Great guy, but his wife’s a total bitch on wheels. Still, if he vouches for Corronado, that’s fine with me. And what’s Corronado’s thing?”

“Rubber,” says Sergei with a raised eyebrow. “Lot’s of it.”

“Another perv? No one just plain fucks for the fun of it anymore?”

“It’s a kinky world, Tony. Besides, it’s good for the DVD’s. Adds spice.”

“I guess.” He shakes his head as he heads back through the suite and toward the bedroom where Supergirl is sleeping.

When Tony walks into the dark room, the blonde’s head is turned toward the door. The bedside lamp is still lit, the teen champion had obviously fallen asleep quickly and was too tired or oblivious to shut the lamp off. As he walks over to the side of the bed, Tony stares at Supergirl’s face. In the soft pool of pale yellow light. Her hair on the pillow frames her face with thin waves of golden silk. Her skin is smooth and her expression is almost angelic in its purity. She is a true beauty and only a few lines from the hard living she’s endured since her capture show around her eyes and around the corners of her mouth. In quiet repose, after all the pleasure of the crack and her self-administered climax, the lovely champion seems untroubled. Tony regrets having to wake her from such a peaceful sleep but he must drive home his points with ruthless determination to ensure she would abide by the promise he needed her to make. Reaching down he grabs Supergirl’s shoulder roughly and shakes her hard.

“Wake up, bitch. I need to talk to you now!”

“Huh...whhuhhh?” Coming slowly out of her heavy, drugged sleep, Supergirl is groggy and confused. “Hoozat. Tony? Whaddja want?”

“I want to give you some good news. I’m going to let you do that favor you said you would do for me a while back. I’m going to let you rob a bank for me. Tomorrow at noon.”

“A what...a bank? Huh? Whad’ju mean? Why?” She rubs her eyes and looks up at the man glaring down at her.

“Call it a little test of loyalty. You said you’d do it when I was training you in the ways of crack and love not so long ago. So I’m taking you up on your offer.”

“Why....now?” Supergirl’s mind is now finally coming around and she’s extremely suspicious of this scheming bastard. The softness in her face has tightened down into a very severe, very skeptical, very un-angelic scowl.

“Well, let’s just say I’m trying to move our relationship forward into an era of mutual trust. I know the Luthor thing was hard on you but you performed very well during a very difficult time. I want to reward you but I need to know I can trust you. So I’m going to let you rob a particularly easy bank nearby with all your super powers intact. When you return with the money and various items from the safe deposit boxes in the vault, I will let you go free.”

“What’s the catch, Tony?” Supergirl is still scowling in open disbelief.

“No catch. You will be free to go and come as you please,” Tony waves his hand back and forth in the air. “It’s my guess, of course, that you will return to me time and again for the excellent crack you’ve come to enjoy so much. And I will happily provide that, free of charge. Of course,” he shrugs with disdain, “if you want to buy an inferior, cut-down version on the street and never see me again, that’s your prerogative. But as of now, we’re done with the whoring.”

“Done?” She repeats with incredulity.

“For good,” he nods. “As you know, your DVD series has sold incredibly. So we don’t need the income from you debasing yourself like that anymore. All you have to do is promise me that you won’t come after my business for a year and you’ll be free as a bird to fly wherever you want? How’s that for a great deal?”

“What about Diana?”

“She stays with me. I will be using her for her own series of DVDs. I expect I’ll make another killing on them. The whoring thing is small change compared to the revenue from a series like the one you performed in.”

“Performed in,” Supergirl snorts. “That’s rich. You make it sound like I was a willing participant in all that horrible abuse. No, I can’t make that deal, Tony. Diana’s my good friend. I can’t stand by and let you humiliate her the way you did me.”

“What good can you do for her here? If you remain my captive, how does that help her. You two come up with a neat little escape plan, did you?”

Supergirl looks at him and barks out a loud laugh. “Right. Me with my kryptonite collar and her in chains. You know how Sergei took us out without much trouble. What kind of escape could we come up with, Tony?”

The thoughtful Don stares at Supergirl as she lies on her side on the bed, looking directly back at him with her cool blue eyes peering back at him. He takes the measure of her and smiles broadly. “After all you’ve been through with me, you still believe you can outsmart me, little Kara?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Tony. I’m saying that together Diana and I can support each other here, emotionally, no matter what you do. I won’t leave her alone with you or that slime ball Sergei. I just won’t”

“Fine, Supergirl. Have it your way. But I still want you to rob the bank and come back to me tomorrow afterwards. I just won’t let you go when you come back. If that’s how you want it. Of course, you could change your mind. Maybe we can work out a deal about the timing for your Amazon friend. Say I only keep Wonder Woman here for just two more weeks. That doesn’t sound so bad. Think you and she could live with that?”

“How can I trust you to keep your word?”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he snaps back at her. “How would I know you wouldn’t try to come back without a kryptonite collar and shut down my whole operation. I have a lot more at risk here than you do.”

“First of all,” Supergirl says with an imperious air, “when I give my word, I keep it. You can believe me on that. Second of all, a year is much too long a period for me to promise you. I won’t wait that long. But you can have three months to clean up your operation.”

“Six months minimum. And what about the other families? I need you to promise you won’t go after any Mafia families during the same amount of time you give me. Otherwise I keep your collar on you and drag you around like my pet. Think that sounds reasonable?”

“Four months maximum and while I won’t target any Mafia family, I won’t stand by for any killings, robberies, muggings or other out and out dangerous activities. Bookie joints, brothels and minor drug deals on the street I will not interfere with, unless I see children of 16 years or younger involved. Then all bets are off.”

“You going to card all the whores on the street corners and the johns and druggies, Supergirl? Isn’t that a little time-consuming for a super heroine who needs to be everywhere at once?”

“Let me worry about that when the time comes. I’m still not agreeing to any of this yet. Especially since we haven’t determined if I can trust you to do what you promise.”

“If I don’t keep my word, you aren’t obliged to keep yours. That’s only fair, right? We’re just discussing options. Let me tell you about the bank I want you to hit, okay?”

“Nobody gets hurt in this hold-up or its no deal.”

“Well, like I said back then, that’s pretty much up to you to control. But the bank I’m thinking about is nearby and has a 59 year-old guard who’s looking forward to his pension I’m guessing. He shouldn’t be a problem for a super powered champ like you, I wouldn’t think.”

The two antagonists converse together for a half hour, with Tony laying out what he wants her to do in the bank. He draws rough floor plans on napkins from the night stand drawer and tells her about the wall of safe deposit boxes in the vault he wants her to break into.

“The thing is,” Tony explains with a chuckle, “most of the safe deposit boxes are filled with cash from the area cops taking payoff money from us. I know the bank president because I opened my account at this branch. I’ve seen the major depositor’s list and I know the place cold from all the times I’ve been in there. You shouldn’t have any trouble. Just scare the guard, take his gun so he doesn’t do anything stupid and clean out the teller drawers and the vault and be on your way. Should take you all of seven or eight minutes max. Hell, if someone pushes a silent alarm button, you won’t get a response for at least four minutes. The nearest precinct house is eight minutes away. One scared hostage should keep everybody in line. Keep him or her nearby and you won’t have to hurt anybody, I’m sure.”

“And why do you want me to do this again?” Supergirl looks at Tony, now yawning from her renewed tiredness.

“Two major reasons. First off, I want to give you more freedom and this is a test of trust. You do this and I can release you without fear as long as we agree on the details of your promise before I let you go. Secondly, if you rob all those deposit boxes of all those crooked cops, they’re back to square one. They’ll be easier for me to control again. They’ll have to be on my payroll for an extra five years or so. They’ve been squirreling away their money for at least that long. It’s a good business move for me all around.”

“Well, it sounds harmless enough but things can go funny.” Supergirl pauses a moment then suggests, “How about if Wonder Woman goes with me as a lookout in case something goes screwy?”

“No fucking way, Supergirl! I don’t trust her at all yet. And frankly, she’s my insurance policy so you don’t try anything stupid. She’ll be carefully watched the entire time you’re in the bank. You do anything funny and she pays for it. AAugust 30, 2009re we clear on that?”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that. Now, could you leave me alone so I can get some rest. We’ll finish up all this in the morning, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll wake you around 9:30 so we can go over the details fresh.”

“Fine, fine,” Supergirl says, yawning and turning the knob on the bedside lamp. “See you in the morning.” Punching the pillow and fluffing it up, the beautiful blonde heroine then nestles her head in the extravagant goose down-filled luxury and closes her eyes. She is fast asleep before Tony even leaves the bedroom.


* * *


At 12:30 the next afternoon, Tony is sitting on the couch in his own suite in the Pleasure Dome building with Sergei and Carmine talking over plans for Wonder Woman’s future as a starring member in her own series of pornographic DVDs. When his cell phone sounds, he looks at the caller ID. It’s Stevie.

He knows the young protege has been upstairs spending a few hours watching Wonder Woman in the suite, taking a much needed break from his editing duties.

For Stevie, just being in the same room with the woman who’s sexual devastation he’d been viewing for the past ten hours had been getting him hard. Side by side, they had been watching “Superman Returns” on a broadcast station. Neither of them had been thrilled with the lead actor. He looked like a CGI drone with no character to his face. And then the broadcast was interrupted by a news flash. Ashen faced, Stevie had flipped open his cell phone and called Tony one floor below.

“Stevie, my lad” Tony answers cheerily, “how’s the best paid, hardest working editor/producer in porn doing today?”

“Turn on your TV, Tony. There’s trouble. I’m watching channel four but it’s breaking on all channels I’m guessing.”

“Carmine,” barks Tony. “Turn on channel four.”

Carmine grabs the remote and points it at the television. The face of a concerned young, red-headed male reporter immediately fills the screen. Behind him is a circle of police cars cordoning off the street outside the bank in the Bronx which Tony had stipulated that Supergirl rob. Flashing blue and red lights reflect off the pale cream-colored brick walls of one of the older bank branches in the Chase chain.

“...a phoned in tip twenty minutes ago from a passerby who noticed the famous heroine pacing around inside the bank gesturing wildly as she held a frightened young woman by the collar who we’ve been told is the branch manager. Supergirl had apparently lined up everyone in the bank against the wall and appeared to be in the middle of committing a robbery when she began ranting and raving in front of the stunned and frightened group inside the bank.”

“Christ on a cracker. This was all supposed to be done before any cops showed up,” moans Tony. “Why the fuck did that blonde cunt start ranting like a maniac?” Tony looks around the couch to Sergei and Carmine who shrug their shoulders and watch the TV screen. Upstairs, Stevie holds the phone to his ear and watches the news unfold. Wonder Woman has a small smirk on her face. Kara’s plan was working.

“Things got even stranger moments after that, Jim.” reports the redhead. “In the middle of this apparent robbery that Supergirl was committing, a group of four men wearing ski masks suddenly entered the bank and confronted the Maid of Steel with their guns drawn. Shots were fired we understand but we have no confirmation about any fatalities yet. But the same passerby who phoned in the tip was looking inside the front window of the bank and saw Supergirl go down when one of the gunman fired at her. How Supergirl was wounded by a gun is unknown at this time. Certainly she has been impervious to bullets up until now, but with her capture not quite two months ago and the release of the best-selling series of DVDs that cataloged that capture, it’s a well-known fact that the young heroine has been subjected to severe physical and mental stress including large doses of kryptonite and crack. We can only speculate that perhaps she was somehow weakened during this long captivity.

Wonder Woman’s smirk has completely disappeared. These gunmen were bad news and certainly not part of the plan. What a bizarre twist of bad luck!

“Jim,” The reporter is saying with pride, “We have a quick cell phone video taken from five minutes ago by that passerby who gave it exclusively to NewsCenter Four just before the police secured the area. Here you see a restrained Supergirl on the tile floor bound at the ankles and wrists with what appears to be a glowing green pebble of kryptonite hung around her neck. We apologize for the reduced quality of the image but we’re dealing with a cell phone image and a breaking news situation. You can tell from the position of her body and the tilt of her head, however that Supergirl is badly compromised. The red bulging pile that’s nearby looks to be her cape wrapped around a good deal of cash and valuables from her robbery attempt.

“Her cape has the GPS in it Tony,” says Sergei. “If she’s not wearing that...”

“We can’t track her. I know, Sergei. But if the police take her, it won’t matter anyway. She’ll be out of our hands and Don Lupenzo gets what he wants. Just like I planned.” It’s Tony’s turn to smirk a bit.

“If you’re just joining us,” the fast-talking reporter reiterates, “we’re at the Chase Bank on Gun Hill Road in the Bronx where Supergirl was in the middle of an apparent bank robbery when she herself was shot and disabled by four masked gunmen. The four men are still inside the bank with approximately a dozen hostages. Amongst them, a bound and helpless Supergirl. I’m being told that a police negotiator has just arrived on the scene and that an attempt is being made to stabilize and resolve this stunning situation.”


* * *

“...uuuugghhhnnnn...” Supergirl moans in grimacing pain as the glowing green rock dangling between her rapidly rising and falling breasts sends shooting pains through her chest. She’s laid out on the floor with her upper back barely raised off the floor against an aluminum heating duct in the wall that’s pressing uncomfortably into her shoulder blade. The Kryptonian champion’s head is tilted awkwardly to the side, her wrists are tied with simple rope behind her back and her legs are crossed at the ankles and tightly bound there with rope as well.

Rao, if I never see another piece of kryptonite in my life it will be too soon! Why is so much of this stuff floating around that a bunch of simple thugs has some?

As she breathes in deeply to try to encapsulate the pain in her mind, Supergirl’s stomach bruise causes her to wince and grunt. The bullet to her stomach had obviously been coated with kryptonite somehow. It hadn’t penetrated her costume or her skin fortunately but it had felt like the worst sucker punch she’d ever taken to her gut. Crumbling to the floor with helpless painful wheezing, the mighty heroine had been easily restrained by two men while a third man reached down and put a tiny glowing kryptonite stone on a plain gold necklace over her head. This necklace now hangs around her neck and lies lightly against her rising and falling chest. With the bracelet hung on the helpless blonde, it was an easy matter for the threesome to tie her hands and legs while the fourth hoodlum held the bank patrons and employees at bay with a menacing glare and a wide, constantly moving arc of his arm holding a nasty-looking .357 revolver. The shocked and frightened group, already cowed by Supergirl’s ranting behavior huddled against the opposite wall and were quietly acquiescent, except for occasional whimpering.

Brilliant plan, Kara. Fake a nervous breakdown, rant and rave so everyone knows that it’s definitely the Mafia who captured me and got me addicted to crack. Repair my reputation and put much more pressure on Tony from the families so Tony has to adhere to his promise to let me go and I adhere to mine not to bother him or his families for three months. And it all would have ended up well in two weeks after he lets Wonder Woman go. Except for this little snafu of a simultaneous robbery. What are the chances of that happening?

Around the bank, the three masked gunmen are now walking in and out of the vault carrying valuables, jewelry, bearer bonds and folded reams of stock certificates that they’re stuffing into canvas athletic bags and tear-resistant silvered plastic trash bags. The fourth hood stands over Supergirl, watching her with a phone in his hands.

“Yeah, she’s here but she can’t talk right now. She’s tied up. Besides,” the hood snarls into the portable phone from the bank manager’s desk, the mouth looking cruel and unforgiving through the hole in the ski mask, “I’m running this show now, Mr. Negotiator. Not her. And no, she don’t look so good so I guess we better move this along before little Miss Al Pacino’s Dog Day Afternoon gets much worse, don’t you think?” The movie reference to a screwed up robbery tied to a threat gives Jim Sykes, the police negotiator, yet more information that his contact is fairly articulate and cool-headed.

“You can call me, Jim. And what can I call you?”

“Call me Daffy Duck for all I care. We’re not getting into a relationship here, Jim. I’m cutting out of this place in ten minutes untouched or the dumb blonde groaning on the floor here gets another kryptonite bullet. This one to the brain.” He stares down at the blonde champion tightly trussed and helpless on the floor, enjoying his power over her, waving the gun ominously at Supergirl’s face. She goes pale at the sight. “You want that on your conscience, Jim? Causing the death of a famous superhero ‘cause you’re too fuckin’ dumb to let me call the shots?”

“Nobody needs to get hurt here, Daffy.”

“Follow my orders and they won’t. I need five minutes to think. Don’t call me back before then.” He clicks the off button and shoves the long portable phone into his pocket. He had expected to be long gone before the cops showed. But the blonde bimbo here had screwed that timing up with her ranting. Apparently someone hit the silent alarm during her rave about Tony’s injustice to her. Looking down at the prostrate beauty, he frowns and considers his options.

The number of his options are reduced to zero in a flash as, from behind him, a brass desk lamp connects solidly with the back of his skull. ‘Daffy’ grunts loudly and his eyes roll up into his head as he collapses in a heap on the floor, falling next to Supergirl’s legs in limp pile of hard muscle. It had taken everything the blonde heroine had to keep her face immobile as she watched the bank manager she had throttled earlier sneak up on the hood with the lamp in her two hands and brain him. The timing of all three of the other hoods being in the bank vault at the time was pure luck, but it wouldn’t last much longer. The manager knows that too and she quickly reaches over to Supergirl and pulls the necklace over the heroine’s lowered head and slides the thing across the floor to a young strawberry blonde girl in a red dress sitting on the floor watching the scene intently.

“Hide that in Mommy’s bottom desk drawer, sweetie. And be quick like a bunny! The bad men will be back any moment.” Looking back at Supergirl as she begins to untie the ropes at her ankles, the nervously-smiling brunette says to the Maid of Steel. “Great day to take my child to work, huh?” The girl who looks to be all of seven years old at the most does as she is told without fear and is back at her place against the wall in less than ten seconds.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you before,” Supergirl whispers. “I’m playing a desperate game here. You were unlucky enough to be in the middle of it.”

“Why were you robbing my bank?” The attractive young woman manager looks both confused and angry.

Supergirl’s legs are unbound and she twists herself around so the young bank manager can untie her hands. While the effects of the kryptonite are lessening, she’s still too weak to break the ropes tightly binding her wrists yet. The nervous manager is fumbling with the knot. Before Supergirl can answer, one of the larger men among the other robbers walks out of the vault with his arms filled with a silvery plastic garbage bag of more money, papers and jingling jewelry. The six foot bald looks over to see the leader of the team unconscious on the floor.

Without a word, he immediately drops the garbage bag, pulls his gun from under his belt behind his back and begins to trot by the wall of hostages toward the young manager and Supergirl. The knot is still not untied and the man is raising his gun at back of the desperate young brunette manager’s head. But then his feet get tangled up in something somehow and he trips forward, his eyes wide with surprise. The large man, instinctively trying to protect his face as he falls toward the hard tile loosens his grip on the pistol and, as he hits the floor with a hard grunt on the palm of one hand, the gun slides forward out of the other. It glides over to the manager who’s too intent on trying to untie Supergirl to notice the gleaming weapon that would give her the edge she needs to bring the whole crisis to a conclusion. As the large, winded thug begins to reach for the gun a mere three feet away, a figure in a red dress hops over him, grabs up the gun and gets into a shooting stance, aiming the muzzle of the gun directly in the man’s face, both arms straight out, elbows locked, her finger on the trigger.

“You were going to shoot my mommy,” she says with a scowl. Her eyes watching the man as she steps back out of his reach.

“No! No I wasn’t. I was going to aim the gun at Supergirl who was robbing the bank before, remember? She’s the bad lady. Not me.”

“I’m six years old, Mr. Badman, not three. I’m not dumb, you know.”

“Of course, you’re not, darlin’. He starts to get up when the girl shakes her head slowly back and forth.

“I will shoot you dead,” she says with a tilt of her head. The large man settles back down to the floor. That is when the third and fourth men in the robbery team walk out of the vault with gym bags bulging in each hand and come to a sudden halt at the incredible scene before them. All the hostages are wide-eyed against the wall except for a very young girl holding a gun on Big Dan. Vince lies unconscious on the floor by Supergirl who’s being untied by the bank manager.

“What the fuck?” Blade says loudly. He drops both bags out of his hand and pulls a switchblade out of his pocket. He throws this directly at the girl holding the gun, not giving a shit about how young and innocent she is. He’s done hard time in prison and he’s not going back.

“No!” Screams the bank manager, who had half-turned toward her daughter the moment she heard the words “shoot my mommy” spoken in that sweet sounding voice. Frozen in fear by the tableau of her daughter holding a loaded gun on a huge man lying on the floor not three feet away from her child, the manager had stopped working on Supergirl’s knotted bonds and watched in horror like the rest of the crowd in the bank as the horrible scene played out before them.

The shiny metal blade circles twice on its way toward the youngster’s face and comes to a sudden stop- directly in the grasp of Supergirl’s palm. She had gained back enough strength just in time to snap the rope and dive forward to catch the pointed steel agent of death. The point sticks out of Supergirl’s palm, half a foot from the manager’s daughters wide-eyed face. The crowd of hostages gasps and breaks into spontaneous applause and ‘thank gods.’

As the other man with the gym bags drops his and reaches for his gun, Supergirl leaps up and soars over to the twosome with lightning speed, easily knocking them unconscious with fists to both heads before they can do any damage. Distracted by Supergirl’s actions, the young girl is watching her favorite heroine drop the two hoodlums when the big man on the floor lunges for the gun in the child’s hand. His hand is inches away from the gun when a the point of the bank manager’s high heel enters his eye with brute force. The big man squeals like a little girl in agony as he begins to roll on the floor, screaming “My eye! My fucking eye!”

Supergirl leaps to this offender and yanks him to his feet only to backhand him hard enough to send him spinning unconscious onto the two thugs sprawled on the floor eight feet away.

The leader of the robbery team begins to moan just then and Supergirl hoist him up as well. She taps him with hard knuckle on his head and tosses him like garbage onto the pile of thieves she has built in the middle of the lobby floor.

Just then a muffled phone rings somewhere. Supergirl’s eyes go immediately to the leader of the robbery team and walks over to the pile. She pulls the phone from his pocket and answers it.

“Chase Bank. Gunhill Road Branch. How can I help?”

“Hello? I was...who’s this? What’s happening in there?” Jim Sykes is confused and concerned. He had expected to have to deal with Daffy Duck, not some woman who apparently had no idea there was a robbery going on in her bank. With the police keeping everyone away including themselves until the negotiator had established control of the scene, nobody was close enough to the bank to see what was going on inside. Being an older branch. There were only two front doors with very little glass to see through. Media cameramen had been kept far enough away on the perimeter so that nobody could zoom in and possibly disturb the delicate balance between the negotiator and the criminals inside. Hence, nobody outside the bank could tell for sure what was going on inside. No swat team with mini cable cameras had been dispatched yet.

“There’s a robbery going on in here. We’re not allowed to talk on the phone during robberies. Please try again at a more convenient time. Thank you for calling Chase!” Supergirl clicks off the phone with a smile.

“Now where were we. Ah yes, I was robbing the bank. I’m afraid due to circumstances beyond my control, I must continue to do so, my friends. I will not hurt you and you will all be released with a fascinating story to tell all your friends and families. The money will be returned eventually. I’m working...undercover to stop the Mafia from doing the same thing to Wonder Woman as they’ve done to me as I was ranting about earlier before we were so rudely interrupted. I hope you all understand.”

With that, she reaches down to the bundle of money she’d wrapped up in her cape, grabs it so it’s tightly bundled like a huge laundry bag held in her fist. She nods to the manager briefly and is about to fly through the ceiling and return to Tony as promised when the manager’s young daughter speaks up in a small voice.

“You’re really still going to rob the bank, Supergirl? You’re a hero. You’re not s’posed to rob banks.”

Looking down at the bravest little girl she’s ever known, Supergirl smiles and squats down to get eye to eye with the youngster. The brown eyes looking into the blue ones of the famous Maid of Steel are calm, steady and a little hostile.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?”

“Audrey.”

“Well, Audrey, you’re right. I’m not supposed to rob banks. And if my best friend wasn’t in terrible, terrible danger, I wouldn’t be doing this. But it’s the only way I can think of to help my friend. I want to thank you for being my friend, too. And for being so brave, so helpful and so strong in such a dangerous situation.” Supergirl holds the bulging cape with one hand and curls her palm of her other hand against the youngsters cheek, gently holding it there. “I promise you I will return every penny of this money as soon as my secret undercover job is over. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” The girl nods, her eyes calmer and more trusting now.

“That was a very brave thing you did, tripping that bad man and then getting his gun. You’re the real hero here, you know that?” Supergirl’s palm moves from the cheek to caress the girl’s hair gently a final time before she has to leave.

“He was going to hurt my mommy. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“And you didn’t. I know your mommy is very proud of....of you...” Supergirl feels a wave of
sudden dizziness sweep through her and she movers her palm from the girl’s head onto the floor to steady herself.

As she shakes her head and brings her eyes up to young Audrey, Supergirl notices a gleaming reddish hue peaking out from under the neckline of girl’s red dress. She hadn’t noticed the glow due to the red material of the dress obscuring the light.

“Is...is...that a locket?” She murmurs to the girl.

Pulling out the shining red stone from under her fabric, Audrey proudly displays the glowing little red globe to the wavering Maid of Steel. “No, it’s a gem necklace that my mommy made for me from a rock we found when we went hiking in Harriman State Park. No one else has anything like it. My mommy polished it and fixed it to the chain and gave it to me for my birthday.”

“S..s’pretty...Audrey...” Supergirl stands up slowly, wavering weakly. She drops the bundled cape on the floor and mumbles badly, “Gotta go now...” Without the cape or its contents, a confused and disoriented Supergirl takes an awkward leap and flies into the ceiling, crashing through the roof and soaring into the sky in an ungainly spreadeagled star shape.

Everybody in the bank is startled at the sudden exit, the big caped bundle left on the floor after all that drama, and the graceless exit of the famous teen heroine. Walking shakily to the front doors of the bank, the bewildered manager unlocks them and calls out to the police. “It’s over come in and get these criminals please before they wake up.”

Jim Sykes looks at the head of the S.W.A.T. team with a stunned look and motions them to advance on the bank and find out what the hell just happened in there.

Dizzy, confused and fatigued, the mighty blonde teenager is flying erratically half a mile away, heading toward the Pleasure Dome building. But the dizziness and weakness is too much for the addled blonde dynamo. About a mile away from the neighborhood where Tony’s business is located, the exhausted, bewildered and wild-eyed teenage wonder suddenly loses all consciousness in mid-air. She drops like a rock and crashes into a vacant lot behind a corner of a demolished building that had been condemned and was scheduled to be removed by the end of the year. Nobody saw her go down. Nobody sees her lying sprawled among a heap of black plastic garbage bags that have broken open from her impact, spilling foul smelling garbage and refuse all over her now filthy uniform.

The only beings aware of Supergirl’s graceless plummet to earth is a small pack of five stray dogs who gather quickly once the smell of the broken bags fills the air attracting their keen noses from two blocks away. The brooding group cautiously approaches the downed blonde beauty but she gives no sign of danger, no sign of awareness at all. So the pack closes in and takes delight in the free meal that is presented to them. They argue and growl over the scraps, pawing at the torn plastic to release more of the feast. One dog even licks clean the garbage strewn face of the mighty Maid of Steel as she lies unconscious in sprawled, pathetic indignity. Supergirl’s arms are flung out over the garbage heap, her legs akimbo, her brain temporarily fried from a nasty dosing of red kryptonite that has stolen not only her powers for at least 24 hours, but all her memories as well.

In fact, the only thing Supergirl will be left with besides her famous costume which is a soiled, stinking mess is a very powerful drug addiction to crack. An addiction that, thanks to Tony denying any of it to her before she left for the robbery, will awaken with her when she does. This addiction has rooted itself to the very core of her soul over the past weeks, corrupting it with a powerful hunger that she will do anything to satisfy. Anything at all.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

No Day In The Country!
Part 37



All Saturday afternoon an angry and demanding Tony Bonano watches the television news for updates on the ‘shocking’ story of Supergirl’s bank robbery and loudly barks orders at Carmine and Sergei. He tells them to have men search the area with a fine-tooth fucking comb. He suggests through clenched teeth that they send one of their brightest young men over to the bank so he can saunter up to the witnesses and try to find out what the fuck happened. Tony growls that he’ll stay at crisis central and monitor the news reports and keep tabs on everyone’s progress.

A nervous and distraught Carmine Vega and a sullen and simmering Sergei pass down the stress of Tony’s vehemence to their own lieutenants. Carmine has never seen Tony this upset and he gets his men fired up and sends them out to beat the bushes for every snitch and drug-hungry addict who might have seen Supergirl. They have about 24 hours before Don Lupenzo wants confirmation of Supergirl’s release and that possibility seems to be in serious doubt.

Tony does not want to go to the mattresses on this and he doesn’t want to give up Wonder Woman, if even that would appease Don Lupenzo. Having gone back on his word to deliver Superman first and then, possibly Supergirl, Tony doubts whether even releasing Wonder Woman would quell the old man’s fury. There could be a war among the families and Tony’s name would go down in the history of the New York Mob as the one who caused all of it.

“I try to do a little something different to help build the general fund and look what troubles you get for it,” Tony says disingenuously to the momentarily empty room. Well, he was riding high for a while. It had to end sometime. Then again, if they find this blonde bimbo then things would cool down and he wouldn’t have to go to war.

Throughout the afternoon, Tony’s suite in the Pleasure Dome building is a beehive of activity with Mafia soldiers coming and going, giving reports of their efforts in searching the area. Nobody has seen her. Nobody knows where she is. Everyone will keep looking.

By 3:00 p.m. Tony is morosely watching the television now, sunk on the leather couch with a straight scotch in the tumbler in his hand, taking in the bad news before him.

“Thank you, Jim,” the red-headed reporter who had broken the story on Channel Four says with a smile, this being the biggest story he’s ever covered. “I’ve been talking to the people inside the bank at the time of Supergirl’s attempted robbery. After she had broken into the bank’s three-foot thick vault, punching through it like it was nothing more than a wet paper bag, and stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of cash and bearer bonds, I’m told she began to rant and rave about how the Mafia had abducted her over a month ago. According to the witnesses, Jim, they all tell me that she was waving her arms, yelling in frustration and, at one point, even crying that an unnamed Mob Don...”

“Thank the Lord for small favors,” Tony snaps.

“...and his henchmen had tortured her, sexually abused her, forced her to use crack and made her commit this robbery, all under the constant application of kryptonite so that she was utterly defenseless. There was speculation at the time about the possibility of Mafia involvement some of you may recall, but with no substantial proof forthcoming, that supposition was dropped. The famous young caped wonder’s comments bring that supposition back into the limelight.”

“You shit-eating son of a bitch,” Tony is screaming at the television. “are you trying to get me whacked?”

The reporter gives a small smile and continues, “By now, many of our audience has probably seen the famous DVD collection of Supergirl’s capture and imprisonment. It is, after all, the best-selling series in the short history of DVD entertainment. However, while there does exist that still shocking scene where Supergirl smokes a crack pipe, to many observers, she did not appear to be coerced to do so at that time. And certainly the sexual activities following that scene could be said to be entirely voluntary on the Supergirl’s part. With that being said, her emotionally-charged statements today would seem to indicate that the possibility of her being coerced through long-term torture may well explain some of the radical behavior we’ve seen from the once-beloved super heroine. For Channel Four News, I’m Dean Powers.”

“You can suck my cock, Dean Powers,” yells Tony. “Just the way Supergirl did. Long and slow and...oh, fuck it!” Tony hoists his glass to his mouth swallows a large portion of scotch, grimacing from the heat of the liquor in his gut and the grinding sensation within that same gut that he was definitely screwed big time here. When Channel Four starts pointing fingers at the Mob, Gino Lupenzo would be coming after him now, no matter what. No grandkid’s birthday party, no quiet weekend, no force on earth would stop Gino from coming after him now, once he heard the news reports. Tony decides he’s got to get ready for war now. He didn’t think there would be any chance to stop it. Even giving up Wonder Woman wouldn’t satisfy Don Lupenzo at this point. He flips open his phone to call Carmine. He needed to get organized and to get more protection in here for him. Lots of it.

For his part, Stevie had left Wonder Woman watching the same television news in her suite and gone back to Tony’s headquarters in Brooklyn to his editing booth. There he resumed working on the material for the DVD collection of Wonder Woman’s conditioning sessions. He hadn’t even gotten to the raw footage of the Lex Luthor sessions yet.

God help me if Tony decides to try to capture another heroine. I’ll die of exhaustion in this editing suite and won’t even be able to enjoy the 1.75 million I’ve made on the Supergirl series. And there’s probably at least that much more to come on the Wonder Woman set.

Carefully, he watches the scene in which a naked, very beaten-looking Wonder Woman is tied with her arms and legs wrapped tightly around a pole as Sergei enters her pussy from behind. Scanning between monitors of the multiple images recorded by three cameras with good views, he decides against using a fancy split screen shot of the two faces. While Sergei’s look of triumph and carnal sexual delight was interesting, Wonder Woman’s image of a drugged, drunk and sexually excited super heroine with lust in her eyes is the one he goes for, because, after all, that was what the people wanted most.

Checking the clock, Stevie sees that he’s still got four good hours before he has to head back to the Pleasure Dome to oversee the recording of Wonder Woman’s session with Don Corronado. He was looking forward to capturing the famous Amazon princess’ voluptuous body stuffed into a clear rubber catsuit. He wanted to be sure his microphones were properly focused and tuned to catch the delightful sounds of squeaking rubber and soft, feminine moans and whimpers as the heroin-dosed Wonder Woman wriggled, writhed and strained in ecstasy from the sexual delight of dildo’s inserted in two out of three orifices, as the Don had requested. The lucky Don’s cock being placed in whichever remaining orifice he chose, of course.


* * *

The same Wonder Woman is back in the penthouse suite drinking diet cola and watching the developing story of Supergirl’s robbery attempt. Up to a point, things had gone pretty much as the two of them had planned after Tony surprised them with the news that he wanted Kara to rob a bank. She’d implicated the mob in her torture and her drug habit and in her sexual behavior, beginning the process of rehabilitating her reputation. She’d done that without naming Tony. That was their ace in the hole if things went wrong. If they had to backpedal, not implicating Tony might save their skins.

But something had gone wrong. The rival robbery team was a stunning development to Diana. The chances of such a thing happening were minuscule. She had a gut feeling that Tony had organized this for some reason. The fact that the crooks had kryptonite with them, all ready to take Supergirl down, was just too convenient to be a coincidence. Tony must have wanted to let Supergirl go even without the money from the robbery, she thought. He didn’t need it with the fortune he’d made from the DVD series. He simply wanted a way to save face while letting her go so that he didn’t look like he was bending to public or, more likely, inner pressure from the Mafia upper crust. The crooks would escape with the money, the bulk of which would be funneled back to Tony no doubt, and a kryptonite-weakened Supergirl would be in the hands of the police facing attempted robbery charges and out of his hands. Whatever pressure was on Tony to let Supergirl go would be let up completely and he could go on to create another series of DVDs with Wonder Woman as the star. Diana nods her head slowly as she plays out the scenario in her head. Pretty neat thinking, Tony. Pretty neat indeed. But something happened to screw everybody’s plans up big time.

According to the reports filtering in from eyewitnesses in the bank, apparently the bank manager and her young daughter had thwarted the team of rival crooks somehow. The two of them had gotten the kryptonite away from Supergirl and had been able to get her untied so she could take out the crooks. After that, things got a little confusing to everyone. The reporter had said that Supergirl had told them she was going to take the money and use it somehow to help Wonder Woman get away from the Mob. How that would happen she had not said. But then she had suddenly and surprisingly flown up out of the bank without the bundle of cash wrapped in her cape, smashing through the ceiling. She was gone in the blink of an eye.

One witness said that Supergirl had spoken softly to the young girl who’d helped foil the robbery but nobody could hear what she said and the girl was now with her mother in a closed office in the rear of the bank sorting out the details of the robbery with the police.

Why did you leave the money and your cape, Kara? What happened to you? You were going to bring back the loot, dump it in Tony’s lap and fly away with a demand that he release me in two weeks or her promise not to interfere would not be binding. So why did you change your plans? Did the little girl or her mother say something? I don’t get it!


* * *

It is the foul smell that finally seeps into Supergirl’s dulled thoughts to rouse her from the deep black pool of unconsciousness in which she had been immersed for the past 90 minutes. The fetid, reeking aroma of old garbage and urine makes her nose twitch and her eyelids to flutter with wincing disgust. She moans, gags and manages to stop herself from puking as she opens her eyes and turns her body over clumsily so she’s wavering on all fours on top of a huge pile of plastic bags. She wobbles side to side, trying hard not to sink down into the huge pile of stinking filth. She decides the only way to get off this pile is to roll off, despite the fact that she’ll get this uniform she’s wearing covered with garbage. Holding her breath, she rolls to her left and tumbles down the four-foot high pile in a barely-controlled sideways roll through torn black plastic, rotten black banana peels, moldy hollowed out grapefruit halves, empty tuna cans and crushed old cereal boxes. With a yelp, she lands on her tailbone and then falls forward, grazing her head against the dark green dumpster from which all the uncollected garbage has overflown.

“Oww...ohh....damn...what the hell. That hurts!” She blurts angrily, holding her palm against her head and slowly rising to her feet. And then she realizes she is surprised that it hurts. Why would that be? She pulls her hand away from her forehead and sees a small smear of blood stretched across her palm. She feels the cut on her head and decides it’s just a tiny cut, more of a bruise. She got off lucky in the fact that her head just grazed the peeling side of the painted dumpster. She brushes the grit of the paint shards out of the wound and looks around for any kind of fabric to tend to the wound. Everything is dirty and unusable, so she just uses a clean area of her sleeve, near her wrist to blot the wound as clean as possible. She had to go home to clean up and...

“Where is home?” Spoken aloud, the blonde beauty shocks herself with the question posed in her own voice. And the bewildered girl follows it up with three more thoughts that she has no answer for, “Who am I? Where am I? Why am I wearing this costume?”

Looking around she sees she is in an abandoned lot in some city that she doesn’t immediately recognize. Turning in a circle she gazes at the horizon searching for anything that strikes a familiar chord within her. Nothing she can see looks remotely recognizable to the west where the sun is high in the sky sending waves of heat to cook the garbage pile to a simmering stew. Nothing to the north or east either. Turning south she sees a skyline that does spark a glimmer of hopeful excitement.

“New York. That’s New York City. The Umpire State Building, I think? And the other tall one is...The Krypton Building, no, not Krypton, Chrysler Building. But Krypton is something else important. But I don’t recall why. Do I live in New York City?”

Deciding she should head toward the city, she heads southward at a steady gait. She is thinking she should try to find a water source and clean up as much as possible since the smell of herself is making her queasy. And she’s not feeling all that well in other ways either. She’s got a nasty case of stomach cramps and her mouth is dry. She is trembling more and more as she walks south. Her steady pace has slackened and she’s walking in a confused, wavering saunter that’s anything but straight anymore. She’s gone for a full city block, passing several decrepit brownstones without seeing a soul. She stops and doubles over for a moment, clenching her arms around her stomach and breathing out a huge sighing grunt.

“Uughhnn...What’s wrong with me? I need something, my body’s not right somehow. There’s something I have to get to make myself better and I don’t know what that is?”

“I might know what you need, Supergirl.”

The surprised Maid of Steel turns to the side suddenly to see a man standing next to the brownstone she just passed. He’s wearing a blue paisley bandana tied around his scalp staring at her with a mix of awe and desire. He looks to be in his mid-20s, rough-looking with a three-day growth of dark beard. A black t-shirt with the arms cut off and small white skulls imprinted all over it hangs on his thin but quite muscular frame. He’s wearing dark gray cargo pants and blue sneakers with a swoosh logo on the side.

“What did you call me?”

“Supergirl, why?” He walks closer to her and stands five feet away.

“I...I...just wanted to be sure I heard you right. What do you think I need?”

“Why did you look surprised just then, when I said your name?” The man ignores the young blonde’s question.

“You snuck up on me. That’s all.”

“Uh huh.”

“What’s your name?” She asks, her hips tilted, her arms folded at her chest, protectively.

“Luiz.”

“Well, Luiz, what do you think I need?”

“Crack, girlie. Lots of crack.”

“Crack? What’s that?”

“You don’t know what crack is?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“What happened to you? How come you smell so bad? Why you all dirty?”

“I fell down. Into some garbage. I’m going home to clean up and change.”

“Uh huh.” He looks over the dirty costume admiring the figure even while crinkling his nose at the smell.

“Why don’t you fly home. How come you’re walking?”

“I’m looking for clues, close up, so I don’t miss them.”

“Uh huh. Where’s your cape?”

“I decided not to wear it today,” lies the blonde. “Why do you think I need crack?”

“You don’t seem to know much, lady. You don’t remember robbing no bank this morning? Cause I think that’s where your cape be. I saw you on the news. You split so fast you forgot it. And now you show up here all dirty and not knowing much about anything. And not flying. I think you need help. Do you mind if I try to help you?”

“I...no. I wouldn’t mind. I...I’m kind of confused about things right now. You’re right. I was surprised when you mentioned my name. And I certainly don’t remember robbing any bank. That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

“Uh huh. Well, uh, maybe because you need the crack to..um...get your superpowers back. Then your memory might return.”

“Really? You think that’s what it is?”

“Yeah! Everything I read about you is that, uh, your super strength and everything comes from taking crack every day or so. With that in your system, there ain’t nothing that can stop you.”

“And you have some of this crack. It’s easy to get?”

“Hell no, it ain’t easy to get. It’s expensive and not that easy to find. I do happen to have some in my apartment. We can go there, you can clean up, I’ll give you the crack and maybe your memory will come back.”

“Wow! That would be great. You would do that for me?”

“You look like you could use a break and I got a kind heart. I’m outta work so, like, I understand how rough things can get.”

“Well, you are very kind, Luiz. I will repay you as soon as...Ohhhhh.. Ungghh. I feel so bad inside. I guess I really need that crack. Is your apartment nearby?”

“It’s just up the street. Let me get a hold of you and we’ll walk right on over there.” Sliding his hand around the moaning girl’s waist, he puts her arm around his shoulder and helps her walk toward his apartment.
“Whew! You sure do reek, Supergirl.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, embarrassed.

As they walk, Luiz’s wide palm slides from her waist to her shapely rear end but the pained, confused and grateful heroine lets it pass as he helps her along, squeezing her butt with constant pressure as they make their way, unseen, up the street to Luiz’s place. It is the first of many inappropriate concessions that the famous heroine will allow before the day is done.


* * *


Carmine is cruising slowly through the streets of the South Bronx with three of his crew in the back of his Escalade. The tall man in the passenger seat to his right, Benny, is peering out the window at the passing scene, scanning his eyes for any movement, any random site that seems suspicious or out of place. The two men in the back, Glen and Stick, are concentrating just as fiercely. Carmine has offered a reward of $1000 to any man who spots anything that leads directly to Supergirl’s recovery. So far the foursome has seen nothing. Considering it’s a Saturday, the streets are very quiet on this hot summer day. Carmine has the air conditioning turned up high although his window is open with his elbow stuck out as he peruses the neighborhood. He shakes his head slowly back and forth muttering quietly, “Not a thing. I don’t see a fuckin’ thing!”


* * *


As Luiz presses the buzzer in the vestibule of the small three story building that houses his father’s loft apartment, Supergirl is taken aback when she hears a voice through the intercom.

“Yeah. Who izzit?”

“It’s Luiz. Let me in, Paul”

“Why didn’t you use your key?”

“I left it on the dresser again. You’ll find it in the bowl with my loose change.”

“Again? You gotta take a memory course, Luiz,” the voice replies.

“I can’t afford no fucking memory course. Open the damn door!”

The buzzer sounds and Luiz pulls the door open and ushers Supergirl into the tiled lobby. The young heroine is entirely unaware that the two men have just exchanged coded messages that Luiz was bringing up a stranger and that Paul should stand behind the door ready to overpower whoever came in with Luiz. Paul’s comment about the memory course was a question about the level of force he needed to overcome the stranger. Luiz’s answer that he couldn’t afford the memory course was code that no gun would be necessary. Paul’s large build and quick hands would be enough according to Luiz. If he had said that he would sign up for a memory course next week, Paul would have retrieved his revolver from his bedroom and set himself up for a more violent scenario.

“You...you don’t live alone?” Supergirl asks, grimacing as her need for crack bends her slightly at the waist, her face sweating and her head lowered as the old elevator slowly makes its way to the top floor.

“Nah, I share the rent with Paul and Rico. Rico’s bagging at D’Agostino’s these days for chump change. Paul’s outta work like me. Place used to be my old man’s but he got sent up to Attica last year so me and my friends are keeping it for him til he gets out in five years. With good behavior.”

“Attica’s a jail, right?”

Luiz just looks at this naive bitch and shakes his head. “Yeah. It’s a jail. You should remember it since
you sent a lot of guys there who don’t think too highly of you, I’d bet.”

“Sent guys there? What do you mean?”

“I mean when you stopped them from robbing banks like you did today, or caught them in a mugging or like, during some kind of, you know, criminal activity, you handed them over to the cops and the system put ‘em away, in Attica upstate, or the Tombs downtown or anyone of a hundred different places, depending on their crime and their priors.”

“Priors?” The elevator door opens and Luiz ushers Supergirl to the right down to the fourth door from the elevator.

“Previous records. Prior arrests, that kind of shit. This is us.” He knocks on the door with three quick knocks which tells Paul that the stranger will be entering first.

“I unlocked it, you dumb fuck,” a voice from inside the apartment shouts.

“After you, Supergirl,” Luiz bows and gestures with a grand sweep of his hand toward the door, blocking it momentarily with a show of courtesy that allows Paul time to get in place behind the door.

Pushing through the black steel door, Supergirl enters the apartment and feels a large, stand up fan blowing directly in her face from six feet away. There’s also a bright spotlight shining directly in her eyes. Confused, she squints, and turns her head slightly to the right and from behind her a fat, heavy leather bag of steel ball bearings swings in the air and snaps into the back of her head with dull thud.

“Gunnhhh!” The blonde heroine drops like a rock to her hands and knees, her head low, her eyes unfocused as she moans softly from the hard blow to her skull. And then a leg sweeps under her arm and knocks her left hand out from under her. The overwhelmed Maid of Steel falls onto her face with both hands sprawled out in front of her as a heavy weight falls onto her back, pinning her to the thinly carpeted floor.

“Hoooffff!” She gasps out loudly as she feels both wrists grabbed and pulled behind her back by a very big, very strong person. In fact, both wrists are then held in one hand by the huge brute and the other grabs her by the collar and hoists the dazed teen up to her feet. Luiz steps in front of the unfocused teen and firmly grips her jaw as her eyes flutter as Supergirl tries to keep herself conscious. Her tongue drapes out of her mouth, a thin string of clear drool hangs suspended from the tip of it as the famous heroine’s head wavers in Luiz’s grip.

“Well, Supergirl,” the muscular Puerto Rican says, “Welcome to my home. I’m sorry we had to rough you up but I wanted to be sure you stayed with us until I figured out what to do with you.”

“...wha...you...whuunt...?” The stunned blonde mumbles.

“That’s the part I want to figure out. But I do want to be sure you get your crack some where along the line. I did promise you that after all.”

“God,” Paul says with gagging bark, “this bitch smells like crap!”

“Well, that’s the first thing we take care of, I guess,” Luiz says. “Let’s get blondie cleaned up. Paul, why don’t you escort Supergirl in the bathroom and make sure she gets nice and clean. I’m gonna call Rico and tell him to come home early. He’s not gonna want to miss this.”

“I heard that. Let’s go, girlie girl.” Lifting up the dazed blonde heroine, Paul carries the near senseless girl by the collar through the living room, the teen’s feet dangling inches off the muddy brown rug as she is hauled toward the bathroom off to the left and in the back of the large loft apartment.

Luiz turns off the fan and the spotlight lamp and moves them back to their corner positions in the apartment, pleased with how well their system worked with the unwary blonde. He picks up the receiver of the phone on the wall of the good-sized kitchen and dials Rico.

“Hey, Luiz,” Rico answers the cell phone. “You know I’m not supposed to take cell phone calls while I’m working. What’s so important?”

“I got a guest at the apartment you’re gonna wanna meet.”

“A guest? Who’s so fucking important that I got to take a chance on losing my job?”

“Supergirl is paying us a visit. I thought you might like to join the fun.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“No lie. I found her walking down College Street with major crack shakes. I think she might be willing to trade favors for whatever crack we can scrounge up.”

“Be there in 10. Thanks.” He flips his phone shut. Stops bagging an elderly woman’s order and waves to his manager. “I got a call from my sister, Pete. My mother just broke her hip. I gotta go now!”

“Rico, your mother died last year. You leave, you’re done with D’Agostino’s for good.”

“I’ll miss you guys.” Rico dashes out of the store and jogs out of sight. The elderly woman grumbles about irresponsible young people today and the manager apologizes profusely as he finishes bagging her Depends diapers and cans of Ensure.

Back in the Luiz’s apartment, Supergirl is being held under the shower and soaped up by Paul. The large blonde brute stands in the tub with the dizzy and grimacing blonde. He is six feet four and weighs 285 pounds, so when he grips a dazed Supergirl, who weighs all of 122 pounds soaking wet, by her hair and scrubs the bar of soap all over her wet uniform, there’s nothing she can do to prevent it. The big man enjoys the feel of sudsing up the helpless blonde’s breasts, passing the bar soap over the famous emblem in the middle of her chest and feeling the rubbery orbs bounce and shimmy under his touch. The water streams down her body, carrying away the disgusting garbage scent down the drain. Next the large male pushes Supergirl against the wall, his forearm pressed to the bulge-eyed girl’s throat as his hand slides between the heroine’s legs and, pushing up under her short skirt, soaps up the crotch of the blonde beauty’s panties. He rubs them briskly with the soap, making sure the red underpants are foamy with suds as his knuckles scrub into the cleft of her sex, drawing a strangled moan from the befuddled and overmatched girl.

“Gotta make sure you smell good enough for Luiz, Supergirl. He’s particular about his women. I’m a little more tolerant but even I’m glad to clean you up from this stink!”

“...feel...sick...” complains the blonde beauty with a wheezing gasp, the forearm still pressing firmly against her throat.

“Yeah, I heard you need crack,” Paul says, turning the drenched girl around now and pressing her face into the wall, scrubs her back with soap, then slowly slides the bar up and down her bare legs as he talks. “The TV said the Mafia got you good and hooked. I even bought one a’ your DVDs where you’re smoking a nice big bowl of it before you give head to one guy and fuck another one silly. I’m lookin’ forward to sharing some of that energetic lovin’ with you.” As a final insult, he palms her ass and scrubs her rear end in slow, humiliating circles before he drops the soap into the tub and holds her under the showerhead.

“...you...got crack...?” Supergirl gurgles through the water flooding over her. She doesn’t even hear, or at least doesn’t acknowlege, the threat of this sexual predator. Supergirl concentrates only on her need for the rocky cocaine that her system is screaming for, even as she’s subjected to this final rinsing. The streaming water washes off the last of the suds and filth and slowly circles down the drain of the tub.

“I’m pretty sure we can get some. Nothing’s too good for you, Supergirl.”

Paul lifts the dripping teen out of the tub and sits her down on the lidded toilet. He hands her a towel and watches her as she dries off.

“When will you get the crack?” Supergirl rubs her scalp briskly with the towel, drying her hair with barely a thought to how she looks. She then rubs her body all over with the towel, trying to at least soak up the excess water from her near transparent costume. Her nipples poke through her shirt, clearly defined from the coolness of the air and the roughness of the towel. Unheeding of her stunning beauty, Supergirl looks earnestly at Paul’s face, eager for his answer about the crack.

“I don’t know. Talk to Luiz. He’s the smart one. I’m just the muscle.”

“Well, let’s go talk to Luiz then. I really need this stuff.”

“Yeah, I can tell. But you ain’t getting nuthin’ unless you put out, you know.”

“Put out? What do you mean?”

“I mean like giving all of us a blow job and letting us screw you. A lot.”

“Blow job? Screw me? You mean, like, having sex in different ways?”

“Yes. Many different ways.”

“And if I do this, you will give me the crack?”

“That would be my deal. Again, Luiz would be the final say on that.”

Standing up without warning, Supergirl ducks under a surprised Paul’s outstretched arms. She runs into the apartment’s living area to find Luiz straightening up next to an old worn coffee table set before a pale yellow and brown checked sofa. Striding up to Luiz, she stands before him, still dripping wet with every curve of her amazing body enhanced by the wet costume clinging to every inch of her.

“Paul says that if I give you sex that you will give me crack. Is this correct?”

Luiz looks with raised eyebrows at Luiz who comes lumbering up behind Supergirl with chagrin about her easy escape from him.

“You make this agreement with our blonde friend here?” Luiz is calm and clearly entranced by the shapely beauty dripping on his rug before him.

“Kinda. Yeah,” Paul answers.

“Sounds good to me!” Luiz smiles and looks directly in Supergirl’s eyes. “Why don’t you get on your knees and put my penis in your mouth and you’ll get your crack.”

“Do you have it here?”

“I think I have one pipe’s worth here,” Luiz lies smoothly. “If you’re as good as your reputation makes you out to be, I will go out and buy you more.”

“I want to see the crack first.”

“Nope. Sex first. Just a quick blow job to show me that you’re sincere. And I’m getting impatient, blondie,” sneers Luiz. “But I can wait all day. Can you?” He gives her a meaningful look and the stymied teen scowls. She is trembling again from need for this demon drug and she knows she can’t make a stand here for long. So she tries to bargain.

“How about one puff first, before the sex. One little puff?”

“No. But I’ll show you the stuff so you know I’m not lying.” Luiz goes to the bedroom and comes out half a minute later with a yellow glass crack pipe. In the bowl is a white nugget.

“That’s the crack,” Supergirl asks. “Is it, like, good?”

“It got me high with one puff,” Luiz says dramatically.

“Okay, then,” Supergirl licks her lips and nods. “I agree to give you a...blow job?”

“Great!” Luiz beams.

“And then you will give me the crack. Correct?”

“Absolutely,” Luiz grins wider. “Now just put on this little dog collar and then get on your knees.”

“You didn’t say anything about this humiliating collar.”

“It’s part of the package. Take it or leave it!”

Hesitating and looking at the pipe that Luiz has handed to Paul, Supergirl grimaces and then snatches the collar from Luiz’s hand.

“Okay, fine!” Supergirl growls and puts the collar around her neck. Studded with tiny spikes along its full length, the thin leather collar is bright red. The now desperate blonde tries to fasten the buckle behind her with shaking hands. She can’t do it. Paul pockets the pipe and, pushing her hands out of the way, buckles the small spiked collar carefully and then drops his hand to his sides.

“Done,” Paul says.

“Great,” Luiz says again. “Okay, Supergirl. Get on your knees and show me what you’ve got.”

With disgust and shame, the crack-addicted super heroine gets on her knees and reaches for Luiz’s fly. She pulls the zipper down and reaching in to his underpants, pulls out the large, fleshy member and leans forward with a wide open mouth.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
Abductorenmadrid
Millenium Member
Millenium Member
Posts: 1376
Joined: 11 years ago
Contact:

Out of the frying pan and into the fire? At least SG's new hosts seem a little more 'amateur hour' than her previous lot but in her state that might not count for much!
My avatar courtesy of https://www.deviantart.com/sleepy-comics

My current story is Supergirl V Bane


This is all the stuff I've done here but don't tell anyone about this!
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Two Ladies On A Tight Rein
Part 38-A


On Saturday afternoon, Tony, Carmine and Sergei are sitting on the leather sectional in Tony’s suite in the Pleasure Dome building discussing possible strategies for the next two days. They’re all talking seriously amongst themselves, sipping their beers occasionally and nodding every now and then.

“I am thinking that we need to close the casino,” Sergei says, “and set up fortifications downstairs, such as to be putting plywood on the plate glass windows and rotating guards in shifts to protect the building.”

“I’m not sure that’s necessary,” Tony replies. “I don’t think Don Lupenzo’s going to storm the building like a fort, and I sure don’t want to give up the income this place generates on a daily basis. The games and the girls draw thousands of dollars a day, Serge. I agree that we should rotate our best men to keep an eye out for suspicious people and occurrences, but I’m flat against closing the place down. And yes, I guess we could have a response team ready up here in case of an all-out assault. We’ve got some heavy firepower in Brooklyn we can bring over. There’s a case of Uzi’s we were never able to unload last year. They’ll come in handy. We got plenty of ammo for them, too.

“I think I should try to talk to Gino,” Carmine says. “Feel him out about what he thinks about all this, as well as what the rest of the families are saying.”

“You think he’ll even tell you the truth, Carm?”

“I’m not sure, but I know him well enough to gauge if he’s lying, I think. It would be better to do it face-to-face, but...”

“No fucking way! I can’t spare you if he’s pissed enough to whack you or use you as a hostage, Carmine,” Tony is shaking his head adamantly. “And I think that’s exactly what he’ll do, one or the other.”

“Ya’ didn’t let me finish, Ton.” Carmine says calmly. “I was about to say that I thought it was too dangerous for a meeting in person. But I’m glad to see you think so highly of me,” he says smiling at his young protege.

“Hey, if you hadn’t lifted up Supergirl and held her head in that cloud of kryptonite gas, we all would have been in jail long before now. You’re a handy guy to have around, Carmine.”

“Yeah, well, if that’s the case, maybe you won’t give me my birthday gift a week late again this year,” Carmine jests.

“You ungrateful prick!” Tony snaps back with a grin. “I said I was sorry and bought you a fucking Oyster case Rolex, which you are wearing even as we speak.”

“You was feelin’ guilty is all.” Carmine lowers his head and smiles from under his eyebrows at Tony.

“True enough. Can we get back to the discussion?” Tony scowls.

“I’ll talk to Gino on the phone and do what I can.” Carmine concludes and Tony nods.

“What are we to be doing about the Amazon?” Sergei asks. “If we don’t find Supergirl, you going to give her up, Tony?”

“Hell no!” Tony is adamant. “She’s worth equally as much as Supergirl in terms of DVD sales. She’s our ace in the hole to calming down Lupenzo at all. If we funnel even half of what’s she’s capable of earning into the general fund, that could be as much as $30 to 40 million dollars. Maybe more. Even Gino can’t ignore that kind of money.” Tony sips his beer thoughtfully.

“There’s a serious problem you’re not seein’, Tony,” Carmine says. “Thanks to our little fake video, right now the public thinks that Wonder Woman is in the hands of terrorists. Now that the Superbitch has fingered us on the news for capturin’ and torturin’ her, if we release a set of DVDs with Wonder Woman, that whole terrorist sham falls apart. They don’t have the background or skills or marketing channels we got to get a set of DVDs out, certainly not so fast or nearly as polished as what we can do. They’ll know for sure we grabbed ‘em both. In fact, wasn’t Wonder Woman on one of those DVDs with Supergirl already?”

“We haven’t released that one yet,” Tony replies. “And we should hold off on releasing any Wonder Woman product until this thing is resolved or somebody from Gino’s family starts shooting. Then we’ll consider it. Besides, I don’t think Stevie’s even finished his editing yet. Either way, there’s going to be plenty of heat on us from Lupenzo and the families. And besides them, the cops are probably going to come after us, too.. In fact, our bribe monies aren’t going to hold off the cops much longer now that our super crack addict has spilled her guts. The public pressure will be too much for them to look the other way. I’m thinking that we’ve got to go someplace safer for a week or two until things calm down a little. Starting tomorrow afternoon. Of course, if we had Supergirl, things could be quieted down as long as she doesn’t press any charges like kidnaping that the police will probably suggest to her. If she keeps her word about not coming after us until we release Wonder Woman, we could possibly keep things from going completely down the shit hole. But for that to happen, we’ve got to find that fucking little blonde heroine!”


* * *


At that moment, the little blonde heroine isn’t quite at the fucking point yet. For now, Supergirl simply has her mouth wrapped around Luiz’s stiff penis, working him slowly and steadily as commanded. The crack-addicted blonde superhero is sucking on the cocoa-colored cock while she kneels submissively before the young Puerto Rican. The young man looks down on this gorgeous blonde conquest of his with a mix of malicious satisfaction and bright-eyed sexual predatory pleasure. Both of Supergirl’s hands are obediently squeezing Luiz’s butt cheeks while she moves her head forward and back as instructed. Steadily but reluctantly, the confused, amnesia-addled teenager provides the sexual service she’s promised. Her still damp costume blatantly reveals her firm nipples and the soft curves of her breasts as they wobble within her blouse with her every move.

The triumphant Puerto Rican thug easily keeps the blonde beauty’s head near his crotch by keeping a tight rein on the bright red leather dog leash he’d connected to her red spiked dog collar after she first began sucking him off. The only time Supergirl had attempted to take a break from the slow and repetitious oral stimulation of Luiz’s penis, he had yanked the leash and pulled Supergirl’s face harshly into his thick tangle of dark brown pubic hair, forcing his penis deep down her throat until she gagged heavily. From that moment on, the teen dynamo had made sure she kept a steady rhythm with her mouth as she continued what Luiz had called a blow job. After six minutes of slow, continuous efforts in the sun-filled apartment, Supergirl’s once lustrous blonde hair now hangs in sweaty stripes across her forehead and across her left cheek as her warm mouth slides up and down her captor’s throbbing cock.

Again and again the needy, drug-hungry red and blue costumed champion swallows the Puerto Rican’s fat throbbing prick, tightly holding it with her lips with every stroke that enters her face. Her nose bobbing against his bushy pubic hair fills with the ripe but not horrible scent of him as she takes him far down her throat.

“Wauulk.....(jingle, jingle)....wauulk....(jingle, jingle).....wauulk....” The soft clinking of the leather leash’s metal catch hook bumping up against the spikes on the collar around her neck is the only other sound in the room other than Supergirl’s mouth working over Luiz’s shining cock..

“Ohhh, maaaannn,” Luiz groans in rough-voiced pleasure. “This is great. You’re doing just as good as I seen you on your DVD, bitch!”

“Whehn oo ah...... ghehh mahh.......cwwaaakkhh?” Supergirl looks upward at Luiz with expectant eyes as she continues to work his cock firmly in her mouth, her lips fluttering as she speaks, her palms slowly squeezing Luiz’s buttcheeks. She does not stop or slow down her rhythm or speed it up in any way while she talks, knowing from his strict instructions that he didn’t want this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of having the one and only Supergirl giving him a blow job to occur too quickly. He wanted to enjoy it to the max. And he was surely doing that.

“Pretty soon. We got to get our money’s worth out of you first, sweet lips.”

“Whhee?” The girl asks, her mouth open around the cock, her tongue lapping its underside.

“You may take a break, Supergirl.” Luiz says with the tone of a master humoring his slave. Taking advantage of the slack in the leash, the teenage heroine pulls her mouth off of Luiz’s long hard dick with a perplexed frown. His shiny hard prick bobs in her face like a metronome while she looks up to Luiz’s eyes. This is exactly the moment Paul has been waiting for. He’s been crouching silently unseen behind the unwary teen for the past half-minute. Supergirl suddenly feels a powerful set of arms clasping around her waist and warm palms against her stomach and breast. Her body jerks up in surprise as Paul settles in quickly behind her, crouched low on his knees as he pins the powerless blonde champion in place with his massive body. Both her hands drop from Luiz’s ass to Paul’s wrists in a ridiculous effort to try to pry the huge manly claws off of her body.

“Hey! I’m only supposed to be giving Luiz a blo...OOHHHHH!”

The hard short punch to Supergirl’s side from a bent over Luiz knocks the air out of the overmatched teen and she grunts loudly in sudden pain, wincing as she twists sideways slightly away from the punch. Held tightly in place by the mammoth Paul draped over her back and the red leather leash now pressed up against the underside of her chin, holding her head up, Supergirl is incapable of defending herself in any meaningful way.

Bent over Supergirl, Luiz whispers in her ear. “Just a quick change of rules, Supergirl. You’re entertaining both of us before you get the crack. Understand?” He shakes his clenched fist in her face.

“Yehhhess,” she murmurs with a wheezy growl of agreement. What else could she do? It was two against one. It felt more like three against one actually, and she didn’t have any of those super powers Luiz had said she would get once they gave her the crack. Until then, she had to play their game. Her insides felt horrible and she hoped this session wouldn’t take too much longer because she knew she really needed that crack. It was twisting her up inside not to be having it.

“Start sucking again, Supergirl.” Luiz straightens up, stares down at her with a cold glare and gives a short hard pull on her leash. So she takes his now half-aroused prick in her fist and starts all over again to bring him back to a full erection. With one of Paul’s arms encompassing her waist and holding her back slightly, the famous teen champion leans forward and stretches her neck forward to slowly lick the head of Luiz’s shaft with a broad swipe of her tongue. The fleshy tool stiffens quickly as she takes him in her hand, and grows rock hard after she makes a second slow, lazy pass of her tongue around the circumference of his glans. In fact, Luiz’s whole body shudders in sexual delight. And then Paul’s other arm drops from her breast to circle around Supergirl’s thigh. He pulls her legs open slightly which lowers her away a bit more from Luiz’s cock. He squats down a bit and she straightens up her back to compensate for her lower angle. Then she puts her mouth over the entire tip of the rigid rod and compresses her lips hard and begins to pull slowly on the tip until it pops out of her mouth. Right at that point Paul’s fingertips begin to circle within the deep crease of her panties right over her anus. Supergirl’s rear end jerks forward in a surprised and angry reflex.

“WAUUGK!” Her frustrated protest is completely choked off by the thrusting of Luiz’s swollen cock in her mouth as once again he yanks up hard on the leash with one hand and grabs the back of Supergirl’s head with the other to discipline her. This maneuver pulls the defenseless blonde beauty upward, burying his member deep down Supergirl’s throat and her nose in his curly tangle of pubic hair. The gagging and choking sounds increase in volume and desperation as Paul grabs the blonde’s wrists, pulls them behind her back and lifts her up from behind her until her lips are pressed hard into Luiz’s balls. Supergirl’s tired blue eyes bulge wide at first and then her lids slowly slide to half mast as all her air is choked off.

“Settle down, blondie. Paul here is going to play with your ass and you’re going to let him do whatever he wants. Get me?”

“...’ehhkgh...” she chokes out with unintelligible feebleness, then nods her head as much as possible under the circumstances, a mere inch forward at the most, her nose deep into his dar black short and curlies. The leash is then relaxed and Supergirl pulls away from the long hard penis with a jolt, the long, brownish rod emptying out of mouth in a quick disgorging of fat hard flesh. Once more the 7-inch glistening penis wavers slowly in the teen’s face. She gasps desperately for air that does not come easily. Her mouth, clogged with saliva and pre-cum opens wide and the blonde beauty who, on her good days is capable of stopping a 10-car commuter train going full speed with just her outstretched arm, helplessly emits a long raspy, hacking gag as a string of pale white drool and pre-cum slides off her quivering lip and wobbles in the air beneath her wet chin. Finally it drops to the worn wood floor as Supergirl finally catches her breath with a loud wheeze.

“WHHHHHEEEEEEEEEZZZ....” Four more wheezes follow. And then the red leash leather is tugged hard by Luiz.

“Back to work, chica.”

Taking a long, deep breath, a cowed Supergirl straightens up, puts her hands back on Luiz’s buttocks, licks her lips and starts to slowly suck him off again. The hard, choking discipline ensures that she does not resist in any way as Paul slides his right hand past the belt of her skirt and into the front of her panties. His left hand reaches under her skirt from behind and palms her rear end with his wide, warm palm, firmly squeezing her buttcheek within her silky red panties with a slow, pulsing rhythm that seems to match her mouth strokes of Luiz.

The standing Puerto Rican, rolls his head around on his shoulders, savoring the warmth of Supergirl’s hot breath and wet mouth surrounding his cock as she firmly holds it with her lips as she pulls away from his groin. She then leans forward, taking his prick deep in her throat and repeats the pulling maneuver, slowly and dutifully. She does this slow pull six or seven times in a row while Paul’s middle finger rapidly circles her pussy for a full 15 seconds before gradually sliding into the upper crease of her vagina and searching for her clitoris. Her hips spasm slightly as he locates the dry pink nub hidden within its fleshy hood. Fluttering his finger ever-so-lightly against this sensitive little orb, Paul feels Supergirl’s pelvic muscles contract slightly, hears the tiniest whimper and feels the first hint of glistening wetness against his busy fingertips. But it is not enough lubrication. Paul pulls his right hand out of the surprised blonde’s pussy and brings it up under his chin. He works up a generous mouthful of saliva and lets it drool out over his fingers. He then carefully pushes his hand back into Supergirl’s panties, guarding the spit by curling his fingers and then pushes the now wet digits back into place against her clit. He twiddles the middle finger once again against Supergirl’s pink center point and the effect is immediate. Her hips jerk and she gives out a long, loud, pleasurable moan from around Luiz’s rock hard prick.

“HHUUUUMMMMHHHHH...”

“Spit and polish,” Paul announces to no one in particular. “That’s what my father always used to tell me. It keeps the ladies happy and in their place. Spit to get ‘em wet and polish their little knobs to keep ‘em that way.”

It certainly seems to be working for the Maid of Steel because the energy levels of her mouth work have definitely increased in their fervor. Luiz pulls on the leash with short quick yank. “Slow it down, blondie. I told you I want this to last as long as possible.”

The sound of a key in the front door of the apartment catches everyone’s attention and while Luiz and Paul are capable of turning their heads to look at the door, Supergirl must be satisfied to simply shift her eyes in that direction.

The scene that greets Rico as the door to the apartment swings open in his grasp is one he will never forget. Luiz is standing in the middle of their living room with his pants and boxer shorts around his ankles while a wet Supergirl in a nearly transparent costume faces him on her knees with her mouth wrapped tightly around his cock and her hands wrapped around his butt. Her eyes have shifted over and are looking right at the door and him, Rico. Those big blue beauties of hers showing a quizzical expression. That look suddenly changes to wide eyed surprise and then drop down to half-lidded pleasure as Paul, nestled up to her rear, does something with his hands as they move around inside Supergirl’s costume panties.

“Oh! I am so getting a piece of this!” Rico shouts.

“Shut the fuckin’ door, retard!” Luiz says. It vibrates in its hinges even as Rico moves forward, stripping off his own pants and pulling off the fabric leg as he actually hops the last several feet to the trio before him. He tosses the pants off to the side against a bookshelf and looks at Luiz eagerly.

“Can I slide in underneath her?” His eyes plead with the leader of their small gang. Luiz looks down at Supergirl who’s eyes have shifted up to meet his. Her mouth is still held firmly around his cock, albeit unmoving at the moment. Her upper torso is wriggling and swaying, however, as Paul’s finger work continues to stoke her fires deep within her.

“I’m changin’ the contract one last time, Supergirl,” Luiz states, looking down on her sternly. “You’re giving all three of us a ride until you get the crack. But I’m making it two full bowls for your trouble.” She did have his cock in her mouth after all! No point getting her angry now, especially in the middle of the best blow job of his entire fucking life. You had to negotiate for what you wanted in life. “Savvy?”
“Ess,” she mumbles through the swollen dick, agreeing under duress due to the overwhelming odds...and Paul’s inventive fingers. Her hips roll in place as he get’s even more creative with the movement of his flicking digit.
“Good, then pick up where you left off while Rico here slides on in here and makes his acquaintance.”
Rico lies flat on the floor and slides his body forward under Luiz’s legs. He carefully positions his legs on either side of Supergirl’s knees. His sneakered feet lean up against Paul’s
shins as he scoots the last few inches so his crotch is directly under Supergirl’s groin. Pulling his floppy unit out of his tighty whitey underpants, Rico spits on it and rubs it a couple of times to get himself started.

“Lower her down a bit, Paulie,” directs Rico, “so I can rub my junk up against her snatch.” Paul just grunts at this and caresses Supergirl’s butt a little faster as he puts a bit more of his significant weight against Supergirl’s back. She lowers down by half a foot. Luiz spreads his legs wider apart and gets lower too so the blonde champion’s mouth can continue to easily reach his cock and satisfy him. Paul gives Supergirl’s clit a very fast 15 second back and forth rubdown and her body wriggles in delight as extra lubrication surges into her tunnel of lust. Paul helpfully spreads the pink lips of Supergirl’s pussy apart even as Rico is pulling aside the crotch of her satiny red panties. He rubs the tip of his dick back and forth within the glistening pink crevice and his penis extends to it’s full length, a fat, healthy 7 inches. The head of his cock is well moistened by the slippery opening of Supergirl’s pussy, but to give the girl a break and to make his own pleasure more likely, Rico reaches up with both hands and palms the gorgeous breasts bouncing gently within the damp, see-through blouse looming overhead.

He stimulates her tits with surprising courtesy, squeezing them softly, rolling and rubbing them in circles at first, then centering on her nipples and teasing them with soft tickling flicks of his fingernail. At the same time, he is arching his back and raising his hips to prod the head of his now rigid rod deeper into the opening of Supergirl’s sensitive slit. She whimpers in heady delight at this heavy dose of stimulation even as the head of Rico’s cock pushes slowly within her tight channel. Rico then lowers his hips and withdraws slightly before raising them up again. He does this once more, then nods at Paul who pushes down more heavily on Supergirl’s back and slowly impales her on the full length of Rico’s cock.

“HHAAAAAAAHHHH,” Supergirl moans long and hard at this, her hot breath washing over the length of Luiz’s rock hard prick before she tightens her grip on his butt and resumes her mouth work with greater diligence than ever.

“Ohh..huhh..huhh....j...j...jeeeeezzzz..!” Rico stammers out with a harsh joyful growl. “This bitch is tight and right! Boys, I’m in heaven!” Rico begins to pump his hips up and down and his rock hard cock pushes in and out of Supergirl’s vagina with slow, hot, patient thrusts. The width of him fills her cavity with fantastic friction and her body wriggles eagerly as it sends more juicy lubrication flowing into her loins.

“Keep it slow, Rico,” Paul says softly. “I ain’t got in yet and I’m gonna get some for sure before you spoil all the fun.”

Supergirl’s catches this statement and she realizes what it means for her. She squawks in fearful protest despite the earlier discipline.

“Awwgk! Ohhh.... ohhh....ohhh!” Still unable to pronounce the ‘n’ with her mouth wrapped around Luiz’s pecker, the Maid of Steel pleads her case as eloquently as any woman can in this situation. Which is to say not well at all.

Not him! Not the biggest one of them inside my rear!

A quick jerk of the leash from Luiz does little to quell her building panic. She tries to pull her mouth away and release Luiz’s rigid dick from the back of her quivering tongue but the leash just pulls straight under her chin. Paul’s hands have dropped to her thighs, clamping tight around them and pressing down hard, pushing the head of Rico’s cock that much deeper into her vagina. Her eyes dart from side to side in wild fear. Rico’s hands have become viselike as well, clamping on both breasts and holding her upper body in place.

“Listen to me, Supergirl,” Paul whispers urgently in her ear. “Stay still and listen.” He grips her thighs even tighter until the pain cuts through her panic and she stops struggling. “Supergirl, I’m going to use Vaseline gel. I’m going in well-greased. I’m going in slow and easy. But I’m definitely going in. You should make it easy on everyone and cooperate. You won’t get hurt. People’s asses can take much more than they think. Believe me, I’ve been in prison and I know. I did guys a lot skinnier than you and they even got to like it. Well...some.”

Large tears well up in the blonde’s bright blue eyes and overflow down her cheeks. She has nowhere to run. She doesn’t know these men. Or herself. Or what she’s doing here. Or why this is happening to her. All she knows that she is scared to death and is sick with need for this crack stuff. If she can hold out and put up with this humiliating sex attack, she’ll get that crack and her powers will come back. Then maybe she can escape. Fly away even, as Luiz had first suggested she could. Does she have any other recourse anyway?

“We cool then?” Paul asks. The slightest of nods from the blonde teenage heroine starts the whole gangbang back up again. Paul releases his relentless grip on her thighs and pulls his hands away. With his hands now fondling Supergirl’s breasts once more, Rico starts thrusting his hips up and down again, using a little greater speed at first to get the nervous beauty back in the right mood. Luiz takes Supergirl’s jaw in his palm and squeezes it slightly so she opens her mouth a little wider for more air. After the first three strokes of his cock with her mouth, he releases her face and slides her his fingers through her hair and palms the back of her head lightly. Supergirl draws back and forth with her lips lightly grazing his shaft for a full minute and then clamps down a bit tighter as she continues to slaver her saliva off over the wet hard penis with her mouth and lips.

Behind the acquiescent, sexually re-stimulated red and blue clad heroine, Paul removes a tiny plastic oblong jar of Vaseline Petroleum Jelly from his pocket. He’d stuck it there before running after Supergirl as she ran out of the bathroom to confront Luiz . He’d figured this fuckfest would come off and had known exactly where he wanted to be stationed when it went down. After taking a thick long scoop of pale yellowish ointment onto his finger, Paul pulls down the back of Supergirl’s panties until her ass crack is clearly visible. Holding them in place, he swipes his finger deeply into her crack, smearing the gel all around her tight pinkish-brown anus. Poking his fat forefinger into Supergirl’s ass to the sound of a soft frightened squeak but nothing more, Paul liberally coats the inside tunnel of Supergirl’s anal cavity as far as he can reach. This draws an intake of breath but no stoppage of the famous blonde heroine’s persistent work with Luiz’s long dark cock. Her mouth continues to slide up and back along its length even as Rico’s own light brown prick drives deeply and slowly to the very depths of her femininity and withdraws, filling her twinging vagina over and over and over until Supergirl is slightly dazed by all the erotic signals bombarding her brain. Her head wavers from side-to-side as she continues the never-ending blowjob for Luiz.

And then she feels Paul’s penis knocking at her back door. The warm head of it squeezes insistently past her butt cheeks and bumps against her anus. Paul’s two hands spread wide around her hips and ever so slowly the bulging mass presses into her balloon knot. The thick covering of grease coating her anus helps the wide tip ease just an inch past the tight opening.

“eh..eh..eh..eh..eh...eehhhhhhh....” her panting exhales vibrate her tongue involuntarily against the underside of Luiz’ glans and he grips her head in excitement at this thrilling new trick. And still Paul’s large warm staff crowds forward into her behind. It moves up slowly into her heavily-greased cavity a good two inches or more, pushing the slippery ointment forward as it eases on through. And then Paul stops, his big, hard prick sending out waves of heat into her rectum. He lets the blonde teenager get used to the sensation of his size as he holds it in place and whispers in her ear.

“That’s not too bad so far, right, sugar?”

“...emmmmhh....” she seems to agree. Whether it’s the constant stimulation from Rico and Luiz’s members or the actual lessening of her fear, she can’t tell but so far, the big guy is right. Sodomy isn’t the end of the world. Right where it was, in fact, his cock actually felt thrilling in there. And then the beast begins to edge forward again, sliding ever so slowly ever so deeper within her rear. And then the cock pushes past the trail of grease laid down within her and pushes up into a dry patch that has the Maid of Steel squawking in pain and freezing in place.

“AIEKKKKH!! OUUGGWWWHH!”

“Come on, man, you’re killing my ride!” Luiz barks at Paul.

“Mine too, Paulie. Do her later, will ya?”

“No fucking way. Either a ya’. I got this, don’t worry.”

Slowly Paul backs out his cock two inches and then pumps it back and forth fairly rapidly where Supergirl is still heavily greased. He does this for a full 20 seconds. Back and forth, back and forth within the three inch entrance of her rear. This action takes the blonde’s breath away with a rush of unexpected pleasure. From her own body, she sends down juicy streams of her own lubrication to points south and Paul unexpectedly pushes back up, far deeper than before.

“UUUNGGHHH! HOOOHHHHHH!” She grunts loudly but that’s only from the surprise, the jolt of him pushing into her and the breath that’s knocked out of her from having a full three quarters of his long hard cock now deep within her rear. It wasn’t as painful as she had expected after all, thanks to the Vaseline and the big man’s patient skill.

“There we are!” Paul says with a beaming smile. “That was the hard part. The rest of the way is easy!” Supergirl’s eyes go wide with stunned bewilderment. Rest of the way? Just how long is this guy?

Paul’s cock retreats slightly and then pushes forward, again and again in fair territory as Supergirl begins to sweat. This huge tool rubbing so slowly and steadily back and forth within her ass is a force of nature not to be denied. Even Rico can feel the warmth and bulge of the large, warm pole through the wall of Supergirl’s vagina as it moves back and forth within her at its slow, relentless pace. Not hearing any complaints from the blonde heroine, Rico starts his cock up again, pushing and pulling it at a slightly faster rate than Paul’s slow, earth-shaking rhythm.

And now Supergirl is lost in a delirious riot of flesh pressing against her from every direction. There are too many cocks, too many hands, and far too many fingers pushing, stroking, prodding and twisting for her to begin to comprehend how to respond to any of them. Every sensitive point on her body seems to be attended to and it is far to much for the blonde teenager to handle. She becomes just a vessel now as the three men take their pleasure from her in any way they like. Swaying and nodding in dizzy oblivion, Supergirl is not even trying to work Luiz’s penis any more but he doesn’t seem to care as his hands hold her head in place and he works his cock very nicely himself, driving it in and out of her weakly gripping lips with abandon. In fact, the pace has quickened with all three men now and Rico’s hot cock is driving deep and hard and fast within her thighs. Someone’s hands are playing with her breasts, rolling them and squeezing them and flicking her nipples so they point out like hard little erasers through her blouse. Someone else is alternating between licking her earlobe and the side of her neck. The orgasm building with Supergirl is going to be monumental for her, she just knows it. Someone else’s knuckle is actually rubbing the skin just over her clit at a frantic pace that drives every thought out of the blonde champions head. The fact that Paul’s penis has driven to its full length within Supergirl’s rear without her even realizing when it happened speaks volumes about the heights that this orgasm is reaching for. Supergirl’s body begins to shake even as Rico and Luiz near peaks of their own.

And then all the cock stroking, nipple biting, knuckle rubbing, thigh tickling and tonguing reaches its crescendo and Supergirl cannot bear the onslaught of sweet delights a single second longer. She lets out a high-pitched keening wail of absolute animal pleasure and cums like an opened hydrant on a hot city street.

“OOOHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYAAAHHHHHHHHH”

Held helplessly in place by innumerable hands, legs and arms, she flails and twitches and bumps and grinds within the grasp of her delighted tormentors without conscious awareness of what she’s doing whatsoever. Her spasming, pulsing, flushing vagina, whining, vibrant mouth and clenching, bucking rear set off Rico and Luiz and Paul all at the same time and the three men’s cocks send streams of warm, pungent cum into her cooz, down her gargling throat and deep within her bowels. Supergirl swallows Luiz’s load without even being aware of it and takes Rico’s stinging jism jet so happily that her thighs buck in their own dance of thankful orgasmic frenzy and accepts Paul’s powerful surge of hot jizz within her rear with a delighted reflexive shimmy of her ass.

There is yelling as well, from the three men and more from the sexually obliterated super heroine. After that comes the rushing wind of panting and the whispering zephyrs of long drawn out human sighing as the mass of bodies shudders and twitches on the floor in a tangle of bleary-eyed satisfaction.

Physically, Supergirl is a wreck. Obviously played out, her chest sags against Luiz’s legs as he holds her by her ears, her face tilted up awkwardly as he slowly pulls his cock out of her mouth. She has passed out from the exhausting triple fucking. Spent and limp.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
Abductorenmadrid
Millenium Member
Millenium Member
Posts: 1376
Joined: 11 years ago
Contact:

Wow, ok, that was a nicely paced buildup of sensory overload for SG leading to the crescendo, well done.
My avatar courtesy of https://www.deviantart.com/sleepy-comics

My current story is Supergirl V Bane


This is all the stuff I've done here but don't tell anyone about this!
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Two Ladies On A Tight Rein
Part 38-B



“Man, she is everything I had hoped she would be.” Luiz pumps his right hand in the air in victory. Rico simply lies on the floor, smiling in his own euphoric daze. He just lets the weight of the bleary blonde beauty wavering numbly on top of him keep his deflating cock from withdrawing from her pussy.

“No lie there, bro,” Rico mumbles.

“She’s a sweet piece of ass. I’ll give you that,” Paul admits with a toothy smile. His cock is twitching within the wet confines of Supergirl’s warm ass as it loses its rigid form. After simply resting in place for a full minute and savoring the heady daze of great sex, the trio of men finally disentangle from the unconscious Maid of Steel. Luiz walks off to get a drink of water. He’s totally dehydrated since the blonde cunt sucked every ounce of jism out of him! Rico pulls out of the blonde’s wet pussy with a touch of regret and stands up, wavering awkwardly from the soporific effect of his orgasm. He looks down at Supergirl with wonder at the fact that he’d just done her. What a ride!

“Hey, her boot came unzipped.” He leans down and pulls it off her foot then smells the inside of it and then gently tongues the smooth plastic toe, having a small fetish for that sort of thing. He takes it with him as he wanders off to the bathroom to take a piss and regard his trophy boot.

Finally, even Paul pulls out of Supergirl’s ass. He holds her gently in place until he gets ready to stand up and then lowers her back down on to the floor. He looks at the clock on the stove across the room, and even though it’s just past 4:00 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon, he’s thinking he may take a nap.

Luiz comes back from the kitchen swigging a bargain brand bottled water. He wouldn’t buy it at all except the water out of the tap usually ran a bit brownish these days.

“That was sumthin’, hey, Paulie?” He says gleefully, punching Paul’s shoulder playfully.

“Yeah, she took my whole rod and barely blinked cept once ‘cause she was dry. She’s a keeper.” He looks down at her and nods. “I’m goin’ in my room, Luiz. You should, like, tie her up or something if you’re thinking about lying down for a while.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Good idea. But first, I’m gonna give her the crack like I promised.”

“You actually have crack?” Paul raises an eyebrow as Luiz walks over to the pipe on the kitchen counter and returns with it in his hand. “That stuff for real in the pipe? I thought it was a nugget of salt or somethin’. You holdin’ out on me, Luiz?”

“No. It’s not great stuff, I don’t think. I had forgotten about it until today, for real. I’d gotten it from my loser cousin who owed me $50 bucks last year and couldn’t pay up. He gave me this and I took it since I knew I’d never see the fifty anyway. I tossed it in the pocket of my old jeans and forgot about it til she showed up. When I had to come up with something I remembered this and dug in the jeans and found it there in the corner of the pocket, stuffed into an old baggie. Thank Jesus I didn’t wash the jeans.”

“Not much risk there,” Paul says flatly.

“Fuck you,”

“That the god’s honest truth, what you just said?” Paul’s looking at Luiz with a steady glare.

“Yeah, Paul. I swear on my mother’s grave.”

“Fine. Well, let me know if its any good. I’m going to lie down.”

“Okay, Paulie.”

A thoughtful Luiz looks down at Supergirl. The crack pipe rests lightly in his palm filled with the fat white nugget of cocaine for the famous Maid of Steel lying inertly at his feet. Of course, right now, she certainly doesn’t look like the strongest female on the planet. That’s for sure. She does, however, look like the most gorgeous crack whore on the planet. He’d give her that! The lovely blonde teen is laid out flat on her back with both arms flung to the side. One knee is up in the air with her boot sole flat against the floor. The other leg is cast off to the side, her thigh flush against the floor, her leg bent at the knee. There is no boot on the end of that leg, just limp toes with their nails painted a bright pink. With the side of her pretty face resting against the floor, a line of pale while cum is draining out of Supergirl’s slack mouth into a widening puddle as her tongue drapes over the edge of her teeth in an unconscious display of sexual satiation. Between her legs, the Maid of Steel’s panties are shifted wildly askew, her entire bright red fabric crotch pulled off to the side revealing abused, reddish pussy lips that are glistening with more cum. As her inner muscles relax, a thicker puddle of semen forms on the floor between her thighs, fed from her vagina and her ass. The cum draining out of the blonde champion’s ass drips into a crack formed by the loose floorboards. It inches forward in slow motion to meet the vaginal puddle. And the world renowned teen heroine simply lies there in a sexual stupor before her vanquisher in complete oblivion. Absolutely and totally fucked.

Squatting down, Luiz quickly lights the crack pipe with a cheap flick lighter and then grabs the red and yellow emblem on Supergirl’s chest into his fist and pulls her up by it, none too gently. Still spent and exhausted, the mighty heroine sags in Luiz’s hold, her blouse straining with wrinkle lines that highlight the curve of her bosom as she hangs there as dead weight in his grasp, her head hanging backward.

“Hey! Supergirl. Wake up.” He gives her a shake and her eyelids flutter.

“...huhhh?...”

Shaking her harder and then pulling her up into a sitting position by her stretched diamond emblem, he speaks loudly and slowly into her face. “Supergirl, wake up. I’ve got your crack pipe here. Just like I promised.”

“..whaa?...cr..cracckkk...whuhh?”

“Yeah, you sleepy bitch. I got your crack here. All lit and ready to go. You want it or not?” He shakes her again and she finally opens her eyes and sees the crack pipe held up to her face. She nods quickly and purses her lips for him to bring it closer. He does and she draws in a deep strong pull from the mouthpiece of the pipe and the bowl contents flare red and crackle as Supergirl gets her crack at last, after hours and hours of gut-wrenching desperation and too many minutes of forced sex to even count. The tiny nuggets of cocaine fill her lungs with its powerful sedating strength and the now smiling blonde wonder lets out a powerful, long gray plume of smoky cocaine into Luiz’s carefully watching face. She smiles with the dopey grin of an innocent stooge as the whispery tune of cocaine music sings its siren song into her ears and her heart and slowly fills her brain with thick cotton. And then the rush comes and the smile widens even more into a ludicrous shit-eating grin of an addict who has no idea of just how much she’s fucking up her life for this elevator ride to nowhere.

“Aaahhhhhhh. Soooo.... that is... what I needed!” She mumbles loudly, thrilled with this revelation. And she waits for what she expects next will be a surge of super strength. She waits for a sense of power surging through her. After half a minute of sitting there with Luiz still gripping her blouse, she tilts her head and looks left at Luiz’s face studying hers. Although she feels euphoric, there’s no sense of incredible strength.

“What’s going on. You said I’d get my powers back once I got the crack. I don’t feel super powerful. I don’t get it,” she murmurs though her muddled thoughts. She sits up straight and Luiz finally lets go of this grip on her blouse.

“Well, I don’t know everything. Maybe it takes more crack or more time. I just know that, uh, you get your powers from crack. I don’t know nuthin’ about how it works an’ all.”

“But you’re sure it’s crack that makes me, like, super strong, right? You know that for sure, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I read that in a newspaper interview you gave,” he replies, building his lie up to keep playing her as he needs.

“Well, uh, when do I get my other bowl?” Her motivation is obvious. She wants her powers back just as much as she wants all the crack she can get.

“Hey! Enjoy the shit you got in your hand, bitch!” Luiz stands up and looks down at the brainless, ungrateful blonde sitting in the middle of his living room floor draining cum out of her cooz and butt like any common hose-bag whore. “Anyway, we’ll worry about the second bowl later. And you might want to think about cleaning yourself up. You’re a fuckin’ mess! You can start by covering up your cunt, Supergirl.”

The drug-buzzed heroine looks down at herself and her immediate area with lethargic confusion. She sees her crotch exposed, the puddles of cum on the floor and her missing boot and lets out a simple, dull, mumbling, “Hnhhh, would you look at that.” She pulls her panties back in place so they cover her damp crotch, smacks her lips a couple of times with distaste at the flavor of Luiz’s salty semen in her mouth and asks, “Where ’za bathroom in this place?”

“In the back. You’ve been in there before, you dumb white cow!”

“Well, I dunnn’t think that was nec’sary,” she mumbles indignantly, awkwardly trying to get to her feet and failing. She wavers on her hands and knees in a pitiful drugged haze until Luiz reaches down and pulls her up with a strong hand on her bicep.

“Yeah, well. I apologize. I’m angry ‘cause I don’t have piles of money to buy more crack and you ain’t even smoking what you got in your bowl, lady!”

“Huh? What?” The blonde super heroine looks into the crack pipe and sees the nugget is only half used.. “Oh, wow! Great! Uh...can you light it again please, Luiz,” she nods eagerly, waving the yellow glass pipe in his face. “Please!”

“I can if you get the damn thing out ‘a my face, bitch. Put it down and let me get at it!”

“Oops! Sorry. There.” She brings the pipe to her lips and nods expectantly at Luiz to light her up. He does without hesitation and, once again, the famous blonde champion of truth and justice draws hard on the crack pipe and draws the poisonous cocaine smoke deep within her contracting lungs. The toxic cloud fills her insides with everything her body seeks, craves, demands and punishes her for until it receives it. Once the chemical is imbibed, it immediately seeks out the circulatory system and speeds it to her brain with all possible speed.

Once more, the euphoria and sense of calm, enduring well-being spreads through Supergirl like heavy syrup drowning pancakes. Except the pouring sweetness doesn’t stop. It just flows and flows until the once mightiest heroine on the face of the earth is a sloppy, mushy, brainless stack of pathetic uselessness. She wavers in place, filled with stupid, meaningless joy as Luiz reaches over and palms her breast. She smiles at this delightful sensation and before she knows what’s even happening he’s kissing her deeply and the eager Maid of Steel is responding with her own twisting tongue. Luiz drops his hand and vigorously rubs the heel of his palm against Supergirl’s still sensitive pussy and she lets her head fall back and moans with a deep throaty purr of satisfaction. Mere moments after that, the drug-crazed Supergirl is back in three sets of arms after Luiz calls out and his posse comes running. Being young enough and randy enough, the four young people couple and recouple ad infinitum for the next hour until no orifice is left unmolested on the lovely blonde champion’s body and no one has an ounce of energy left. After all is explored and penetrated, they all lie in a group pile of sweaty, half-clad bodies, out cold and oblivious to the world.


* * *


“No. It’s not like that at all, Gino,” Carmine is insisting, rolling his eyes at Tony as he holds his cell phone to his ear. “It absolutely was not something we planned. Why would we point the finger at the families. Make sense, Gino.” Carmine jerks and yanks the phone away from his hear as even Tony hears the high-pitched screamed obscenities through the tiny speaker. After a moment, Carmine gingerly replaces the phone to his ear. “Uh huh. Yeah. Uh huh. Right. Of course, I couldn’t agree more, Gino. No, I wouldn’t expect they would either. Yes. Uh huh. Not in anyone’s lifetime. I’d have to say. Of course I wouldn’t do that. Yes, Gino, I certainly would do that. Not in that way, of course, but.... How much? That’s seems unlikely. That seems unreasonable. If I could I would. As soon as I can, I will. Certainly not until tomorrow.” Once again Carmine holds the phone away from his ear and shakes his head solemnly at Tony who merely takes a long pull of his scotch and breathes out heavily after he does. “Yes, I’m sure, Gino. Absolutely not. Not unless I have to and neither would you. If I could I would but I can’t so it’s not an issue, Gino. Alright. Yes, as soon as I can. No, not before then. Okay. I appreciate your honesty. And that’s an honest sentiment as well. And that. And certainly that. Very good, Gino. I will let you know. Yes, the very moment. No, I can’t do that, Gino. And that is anatomically impossible, Gino. Yes, I’m sure you would be glad to help me with that. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Don Lupenzo. Yes. Yes, I will. Goodbye.”

“Well?” Tony looks at him.

“He’s pissed. We’re fucked. End of story. Except he sends his love.”

Tony laughs out loud long and hard at Carmine’s wry fatalism. He actually reaches over and gently pats his mentor on his cheek several times. “Ahhh, Carmine. You’re truly one of kind. I’m really looking forward to spending quality time with you when we go to the mattresses.”

“Tony, if Supergirl doesn’t get back here by 5:00 p.m. tomorrow afternoon, we won’t even make it to the mattresses. Gino will carve us up like a Christmas turkey before we pick out a single bedsheet.”

“Any kind of alternate offer on the table from him. A way out?”

“Not even money. Not even Wonder Woman’s release. It’s Supergirl and Supergirl alone. He wants her to issue an absolute retraction in front of news cameras saying she was out of her head on drugs and the mob isn’t involved in any way. And how likely is that?”

“Not very,” Tony replies. “Unless....” He taps the lip of the crystal tumbler against his front teeth thinking hard about something crazy. His eyes get a gleam in them that Carmine sees and blanches white at when he does.

“Oh god....here it comes,” he says, swallowing a long hard gulp of scotch and looking at Tony with a mix of alarm and resignation. He’s sure he doesn’t want to hear what Tony has to say. And then he listens anyway.


* * *


Upstairs in the Pleasure Dome’s penthouse suite, the most powerful, most famous warrior princess of all the Amazons to ever walk among the world of men is struggling and groaning desperately, virtually weeping. Her teeth are gritted with complete frustration and her forehead is gleaming wet with sweat. She’s trying with all her power to get her broad, shapely hips into a tight, clear rubber catsuit.

Naked as the day she was born, the mighty raven-haired beauty wriggles her ass from side to side with angry grunts as she pulls on the flexible material to force her lower torso into the skin tight outfit. Behind her, Sergei watches her struggling, writhing and flexing body with breathless appreciation of her phenomenal figure as it lifts, bends, stretches and twists in order to fit into this absolutely breathtaking costume. Already her long, lean legs are packed within the suit. The lines of her muscular calves, her knees and her thighs are all accented to shimmering flawlessness by the tight clear rubber adhering to her skin with wrinkle-free perfection. With a groan and a hop in the air by a now determined Diana, the rubber catsuit finally slides over Wonder Woman’s broad hips and encases her magnificent ass and taut, smooth pelvis in crystal clear rubber.

“There! Now how hard was that to be putting on, really?” Sergei teases the panting beauty as she wheels around and snarls at him.

“You think it’s easy to get into this humiliating item of infantile male fantasy, I urge you to try!”

“I would, but I am sincerely doubting that two of us could fit in there. You barely do yourself,” he jibes. He can’t wait to watch the show as she tries to fit those 38 DDs into the rubbery prison of sexual enticement.

“You’re not funny, you Russian thug!”

Sergei stands unfazed before Diana, his arms folded against his chest as he holds a fully charged tazer in his right hand. He waves it at her with a calm yet resolute “please continue” motion and she sneers with resentment. Nevertheless, she pulls the suit up until it reaches to her mid-stomach, then begins to get into the top portion of the suit by pushing her arms into the thin tubes of rubber that will encase her arms.

Sergei has already had to give Wonder Woman a minimal shock once during this suiting up ordeal. She had balked when he’d given her the suit, complaining and whining right off. And then she stopped suddenly as she pulled the tight rubber up her left thigh while she balanced awkwardly on her right foot saying she just couldn’t do this. That’s when he’d zapped her at 1/16th power, just to remind her in a memorable way that she was his whore and had agreed to perform any sex act he’d stipulated. She’d fallen on her ass and sat there dazed for two minutes before he helped her up and told her to finish getting dressed. She nodded dully and did so with quiet petulance.

Now, lifting up both arms at once, Wonder Woman feels the tight rubber outfit slide slowly up to the underside of her breasts. Reaching down, she pulls the rubbery second skin away from her body, yanking up on the stretching, squeaking film. Shifting her upper body from side to side, she works the tight rubber over her bosom and then lifts her arms high up in the air again. With a rushing snap, the costume pops up and snaps against the broad top of her chest, stinging against her clavicle with a painful whack. Her eyes blink with sudden tears at this nasty surprise from this heinous costume but then it’s done. Her body is sealed right up to the base of her neck in shiny, skin-tight, transparent rubber. Her large, globular breasts look more tempting than any packaged chicken breasts in a supermarket display case, though just as prominently displayed for close inspection. Her brown nipples are flattened within the compressing rubber and even the breasts spread out into larger proportions than normal from the tightness of the catsuit. Sergei looks over the bending and twisting black-haired beauty as she gets all the final painful wrinkles out of the sheer material stretched over her impossibly perfect figure. Between Wonder Woman’s legs, her bushy tuft of black pubic hair is also flattened into an intriguing dark triangle and beneath that, with a rubber seam running through the cleft of her lower lips, Wonder Woman’s pussy is separated and sealed into a fat, highly alluring camel toe.

“Very, very appealing, princess,” coos Sergei. Diana stands before her leering Russian pimp, saying nothing and glowering at his obvious look of male arousal at her shamefully exposed crotch. His pupils have widened dramatically and his respiration is definitely uneven. Her humiliation knows no bounds! However, she’d given her word and, with his painful tazering reminder, now had to perform her duties as described by Sergei in the earlier briefing. She’d been horrified when told what she had to do. Even this first part of donning this uncomfortable rubber costume was bad enough. What was coming next would test her resolve as an Amazon to keep her promise.

“I’m sure that Don Corronado will be most pleased by your appearance as well as your responsive, enthusiastic and subservient attentions today, yes?” Sergei’s tone demands agreement and Diana nods.

“Yes, Sergei,” she says flatly, not even looking anymore at the lecherous Russian pig.

“Good. Now bend over and grab your ankles please. I am to be inserting remote controlled dildos into your vagina and anus.”

This snaps Diana’s head around and she blurts, “NO!” Looking into Sergei’s face for signs of a joke, she sees with grim disgust welling within her that he is not, in fact, joking at all. Instead he is waving his taser back and forth with deadly seriousness and looking hard into her eyes.

With a gulp and a sudden whimpering “Hohhh,” the Champion of All Women bends over and does as she is told.

Sergei walks forward, taking two large dildos out of a drawer in the counter next to Diana’s bent over form. He then unseals the rubber flap that protects her crotch and slowly and forcefully inserts the two fat pink dildos into Wonder Woman’s rear end and vagina. And all she can do is hold her ankles, bite her lip and try not to weep at one of the most depressing and humiliating indignities she’s ever endured.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
Abductorenmadrid
Millenium Member
Millenium Member
Posts: 1376
Joined: 11 years ago
Contact:

WW in a clear catsuit - where do I buy tickets?
My avatar courtesy of https://www.deviantart.com/sleepy-comics

My current story is Supergirl V Bane


This is all the stuff I've done here but don't tell anyone about this!
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Bad Night All Around
Part 40



“Okay, Wonder Woman, that’s good. You finally got me hard enough. Now you can start sucking on my joint.”

Looking up at Don Silvio Corronado with hesitant, nervous blue eyes, Diana nods and lowers her face into the don’s slightly sweaty crotch. The pungent scent of spicy male cologne and perspiration that wafts into Diana’s nose is actually a bit intoxicating but she is still loathe to take the erect penis staring her in the face into her wide, frowning mouth.

“Some time today, Princess!” Silvio is glaring down at the beautiful woman kneeling low between his knees with one palm holding onto his thigh, the other wrapped around his cock. Clad in skin-tight clear rubber, the incomparable body was a warm, living, breathing testament to feminine beauty. The graceful neck, broad shoulders, large rounded breasts, flat tummy, wide hips and perfectly toned legs contained by the sheer, tight latex defined the very concept of Woman. And this gift from the gods was kneeling before him, now leaning in to suck on his cock!

“Mmmmmmmm,” Diana murmurs with obviously phony pleasure as she closes in, seals her lips around the tip of the hard penis in her face and rocks her neck from side to side. “Goooodd.”

She does this for several seconds to little or no effect on the penis in her mouth. She screws her lips down harder on the tip and continues to twist at it like she’s trying to open a wine bottle with her lips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Silvio looks down at the rotating head with dismay. This bitch doesn’t have a clue about how to suck a cock!

Releasing the cock from her mouth and backing away slightly from the organ that’s now lowering itself before her, Diana looks up timidly at the Don who’s staring down at her with a serious frown. “..s..s..sucking...your cock..Don Silvio,” she breathes softly.

“No. No, you are not, in fact, sucking my cock, Wonder Woman,” snaps the frustrated Mafioso with terse anger. “If you were doing that, it would be highly pleasurable. What you are doing is twisting my cock with your mouth. Which, I gotta say, is not only not highly pleasurable, it’s actually somewhat painful! Hence the NOW...LIMP...DICK!” The Don finishes the sentence with bellowing rage. Then, after taking a long, slow, deep breath, he reaches over and grabs Diana by the ears and tilts her face up to look directly into his angry brown eyes. “Okay, Princess, we’re going to try this again with step-by-step instructions that even a brainless whore like you should be able to comprehend. Are we all ready?”

“..yes...” Diana’s voice quivers as she replies. She is absolutely petrified that she will be killed for her inexperience when Sergei sees how angry Don Corronado is.

“Good! Now first wet your lips. More. More. A little more. Fine. Now open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue. Not that far! Just a little bit. Over the teeth. That’s better.” The deep-voiced Don patiently spells out exactly what he wants the raven-haired heroine to do and she immediately but awkwardly complies to everything he demands without hesitation.

“Okay, I’m now resting my cock on your tongue. You should gently close your mouth and pull your head back slowly. Slower. Keep pulling back ‘til you almost release....almost, I said. Take your hand and put my penis back in your mouth. No, deeper back on your tongue where it was before. Good. Keep your hand around my cock, Diana. Don’t let go until I tell you to. Now pull back now, slowly. Not so tight on the lips. Go easy. Pull back slowly and don’t let me fall out of your mouth again. Better. Now push your head forward so you take my prick back deep into your mouth. Watch your tongue there. Careful, it’s moving off your...OWW!..NO TEETH. AAUGGHH! Shit! LET GO OF ME!” Don Corronado pulls his cock out of Wonder Woman’s mouth and bends forward with a grimace holding his penis in the palm of his cool hand to ease his distress.

“Dammit, bitch. No teeth exposed. That’s the first fucking rule of cocksucking!” Shaking his fist like he wants to clock Wonder Woman with a punishing left jab, Silvio releases yet another long frustrated sigh. “Alright let’s try it again, moron. Put my prick in your mouth, tongue slightly out and...wait! Let me go. Let me go. Open your mouth and let my prick go, Wonder Woman. You forgot to wet your lips. A decent blow job...and that’s all I’m shooting for here, ‘cause I’m giving up on good...requires a warm, wet mouth, a soft, sensual tongue and the ability to show a deep and abiding love of a man’s cock without leaving teeth marks in it. Get it?”

“I get it,” Diana replies, trembling.

“Okay, don’t be nervous. Have fun with it. Pull gently on my penis to get it harder. Easy. Easy. Slow and steady. Right. Easy. Good. Okay, wonderful. I’m hard again. You’ve learned that part fine. Now just wet your lips generously and take me in your mouth just like you did before. After that, just start sucking on the tip of my penis as you move me in and out of your mouth with your loosely held fist. Go ahead. I’m waiting.”

Taking a deep breath, Diana puts her head low in Don Corronado’s lap and, holding his now firm penis in her hand, wets her lips thoroughly. After several roundhouse swipes of her darting pink tongue, she opens her mouth puts Silvio’s cock onto the middle of her tongue and closes her mouth gently. Slowly, with his cock in her loosely held fist, she sucks down on him as she pulls away from him. She then leans forward and takes him back in. She does this once again and Silvio actually smiles down at her.

“Good, Wonder Woman. You did that well. You didn’t hurt me and it almost felt a little pleasurable.” Wonder Woman actually smiles around the wide penis in her mouth. The nervous heroine is so relieved that she got the action right that she doesn’t even recognize the irony in her actions. She seems stupidly unaware of her ultimate humiliation at the hands of this crude Don. The shocking shame of this scene seems to escape the desperately anxious-to-please Diana completely but the cameras positioned all around the suite certainly don’t miss it. The famous Wonder Woman, the most revered feminist role model on the planet, is taking genuine satisfaction from her newly perfected talent, bowing her head low between the knees of a man in order to perform a demeaning sexual service that any five-dollar-a-blow-job back-alley whore would be able to perform in her sleep.

“Now try it again,” the Don urges her on. The fact that Diana is eager to perform the maneuver again shows the depth to which the famous Amazon princess has sunk as a prisoner of Tony Bonano and his crew. Still keen to serve, Wonder Woman continues practicing her blow job skill set. She does the act again, slowly and carefully.

“Great. That was even a little better, Diana. Now just do that about 100 times and let’s see where we stand after that, okay?”

“..wuhhn...uundwed...dhimes..?....” she repeats, the cock deep in her mouth, her fist holding him steady, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Maybe 80, maybe 110. It all depends on you, sweetheart, and how warm and wet your mouth is and how eager and inventive your tongue is,” Don Corronado says with a leering smile. “Now get to it, Wonder Whore!”

Snapped back into the reality of the situation by his harsh command, Diana blinks away the shock and mortification in her downcast, tear-filled eyes. What in Hera’s name am I doing? She freezes in place, horrified at herself in the harsh light of her shame.

“Am I going to have to notify Sergei about my disappointment, Wonder Woman?” Don Corronado is looking down at the statue of womanly subservience poised before him. She trembles and shakes with a sudden jolt and looks up at him with abject terror. Clad in skin-tight clear rubber and kneeling between the legs of a cruel man solely to satisfy his selfish pleasure is a horrifically mortifying situation for Diana. But what breaks her heart is her crumbling self-esteem as she humbly replies to him.

“No!.....no...you won’t...” she whispers, and then bends forward with her eyes closed and her heart sick with humiliation. She begins to stroke Silvio’s penis in and out of her mouth with her fist held firmly around his shaft. She does this three...five....seven...a dozen times with tight lips compressed around the moving shaft with a feeling of gnawing, churning shame in the pit of her stomach. She is Wonder Woman defiled. Wonder Woman shamed. Wonder Woman the all-too-willing whore! She hates herself as a disgrace to Amazons every....

The self-loathing coupled with the shocking tasty of slippery, tangy pre-cum on the back of her tongue rushes through Diana in a sudden rising gorge of nausea that takes all she has not to upchuck in Silvio’s lap. Gagging and pulling back from his cock, Wonder Woman disgorges the fleshy rod and gags and wheezes with blubbery helplessness between Silvio’s legs, her head bowed low. Taking deep breaths, she stops herself from puking and pants roughly in place, looking down at the carpet in silent panic. This was it for her. She couldn’t do what he wanted and she would be killed for sure. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe she would have to die with a little dignity.

For several moments, nothing is said by Silvio. Finally Diana slowly lifts her head and shifts her eyes up to peer from between black strands of hair covering her face. Don Corronado is slowly shaking his head back and forth and looking down at her with absolute disappointment.

“You are truly pathetic, Wonder Woman. I’d have to say you’re probably the worst damn cocksucking whore on the entire fucking planet,” Silvio growls out in frustration.

“I guess I’ll have to take that as a compliment,” she snaps back without thinking. And then a look of sheer terror crosses her face at this backtalk that she’d been explicitly warned against by Sergei.

But Don Corronado is actually laughing at her sudden wellspring of spirit. After a moment, the deeply chuckling Silvio says, “Well, well, well. That was unexpected. But why look so frightened, Diana? I’m actually pleased to hear that your Amazon heart still pumps a little courage through your veins, Princess. Bravo. Bravo, indeed. I hate to think I was paying for a shadow of the famous Champion of All Women that I paid to be with this evening.”

“I glad I please you, Don Corronado.” Irony and anger in equal measures from Diana.

“It’s nice to know that quick tongue of yours is good for something at least, Diana. If only your mouth was as good at sucking in cock as it is at spitting out words. But I believe I can remedy that. Bow your head between my knees again, Wonder Woman and just breathe softly on my cock.”

“We’ve tried all this before. I’m just not good enough to give you....”

“Shut up and just do what I tell you, bitch!”

Diana winces at the command but complies, bowing her head over Silvio’s dangling cock and breathing on its reddish surface. Her life might be spared after all. One of his hands begins to slowly rub through her thick black mane, slowly rubbing her scalp and tangling his fingers in her long lustrous locks.

“Just relax and let your warm, sensuous breath waft over my dick, Diana. Good. Relax. Don’t worry about anything right now, just take deep breaths and breathe them out slowly over my prick. Excellent. Feel yourself starting to relax as I speak. There’s no pressure to perform right now. All you have to do is breathe.”

His second hand is rubbing the back of her neck, slowly easing its way under the rubber suit collar until its right between her shoulder blades. But the palm doesn’t feel smooth like skin. It feels like...paper? Then there’s a sticky drag to the paper and a smooth pressing of his palm between her shoulder blades. Diana brings her head up sharply and looks into Silvio’s bemused brown eyes.

“What is that? What did you do?” Her hand reaches up to feel her back but Silvio grabs her wrist and restrains it forcibly in mid-air, their two arms shaking with opposing tension.

“Don’t touch it, Wonder Woman. Just let it do its work.”

“What have you done?” The wide-eyed champion asks with a throaty whisper.

“Just a little...what did Sergei call it?....Nympho Patch? Yes, that’s what he said.”

Diana’s eyes grow even wider in shocked horror. “NO! You didn’t!”

“Sergei said it would work wonders,” Don Corronado replies with slow, calm certitude to the frantic beauty who’s hand now drops to Silvio’s thigh in defeat, still within the Don’s steady grip. “And he said it would work quickly. It’s not supposed to hurt so what’s the problem, Princess? Seems like the perfect solution to our situation, don’t you think? You get excited enough that you’re not a hesitant, self-conscious rube and I get a decent blow job out of you at last! You get off. I get off. Everyone’s a winner!”

“I...i....just don’t like...the loss of ....control...” Diana admits with a frown, her two bright blue eyes shine up at him with tears at this harsh truth. And then, 35 seconds after the patch has been applied to her back, Wonder Woman’s eyelids flutter softly, then lower seductively with a sudden bright gleam of desire as the rush of the powerful, intoxicating aphrodisiac invades Diana’s bloodstream with a heady need she cannot control. “Ohhhhhh.....But then...again...ahhh.. ..control..may...be.. somewhat.....ohhhh.... overrated....” she murmurs.

“Think so?” Silvio smiles. “Not from my point of view, Wonder Woman. Not overrated at all,” he says.


* * *


The bad lighting in the Top Hat Bar is doing the run-down hole-in-the-wall dive a favor. The customers can’t see the broken linoleum floor very well, the stained tablecloths don’t seem quite as cheesy and the ugly white scar on the fat bartender’s cheek is half-hidden so he’s not nearly as frightening when serving up his watered down drinks. It’s also more convenient for Joey “Target” Targento who’s concluding his drug sale at the back corner table, sheltered from prying eyes. Not that anyone of the eight or so half-drunk male patrons is looking. Most are sitting at the bar quietly staring into their beer and trying to forget their lousy jobs. Three other men are huddled at a table five feet away from a jukebox playing the old Sam Cooke song “Only Sixteen” and talking trash to each other about big scores they’re planning.

But Joey “Target” is a bit nervous because he’s been busted twice already for dealing and a third time will buy him hard time as a guest Upstate in one of New York’s finest incarceration facilities. He knows Luiz and Rico, though and it’s a quiet night, especially for a Saturday, so everything should be cool. He’s gotta calm down but he uses what he sells and it’s been a while since he last toked up so he’s edgy and jerky. And the thing is, it is unusual for Luiz to be buying at all. He’s usually tapped out and Joey normally can’t get him to buy even when he offers to chip his price by a few bucks. But tonight Luiz is buying without even pressing him on the price. And Rico’s knee is bumping up and down with a jittery looseness along to the beat of the Sam Cooke song. And Rico’s never this loose.

“You guys havin’ a party or what?”

“What do you mean?” Rico’s knee stops and he gives Joey the fisheye as he takes a gulp of his beer.

“Nuthin’. I didn’t mean nuthin, ‘cept...”

“Except what Joey?” Rico cocks his head and Luiz is looking at him steadily too.

“‘Cept you two ain’t regulars is all. That’s all I’m talking ‘bout. Didn’t mean nuthin by it.”

“Yeah. Well, you’re right, Joey,” Luiz says. “We’re having a party. Bill Clinton stopped by and he said his night wouldn’t be complete without a little crack to get him right. Ain’t that what he said, Rico?”

“Yes he did. Needed to get right so he could go home and fuck Chelsea.”

“Not Chelsea. It’s Hilary, ya’ dumb fuck,” Luiz jeers at Rico. “Chelsea’s his daughter. He’s not that fuckin’ sick.” Luiz takes a swig of the watery brew in his short glass.

“Yeah, whatever. I guess I got teenage girls on my mind. Beautiful, luscious teenage girls who like to put out!” Rico starts his knee bopping again.

Luiz gives Rico a cold look that Joey doesn’t miss, but Joey just looks down at the table as he quietly sips his own beer. Rico is never this happy. He must have a girl back in his place. That could be a first, especially if it’s one he didn’t drag in to rape. Rico wasn’t a man you wanted to cross, especially if you were a teenage girl. Anyone he had up in that apartment with him would either have to put out by choice or she would be doing so against her will. Considering the knee action, Joey thinks the girl’s cooperating. Especially if they’re giving her crack.

“So you selling us this shit or not Joey? I don’t have all night. President Clinton is waiting!”

“He’s not president anymore,” Joey states.

“Yeah, but you’re still supposed to call him that I think,” Luiz says. “At least, you know, he doesn’t correct me when I do.” Pushing the joke to the limit, Luiz smiles at Joey for a second before getting serious. “So, we doing this or what?”

“Yeah, sure. Give me the twenty. Under the table,” Joey instructs. Under cover of the table and the dirty tablecloth, Luiz hands the folded bill to Joey who palms it neatly and transfers a small baggie with several nuggets of crack into Luiz’s own palm.

“Great. Thanks, Joey.” Luiz takes the final swig of his beer. “We’ll see you around. C’mon Rico.” Rico takes a large gulping swallow, his cheeks bulging with the liquid before he downs it. The two customers walk away toward the door.

“Give Chelsea my best,” Joey calls out to their retreating backs. Rico freezes and then turns around with a big smile.

“I’ll do just that.” He spins on his feet in a way that tells Joey he’s going up to fuck someone tonight for sure. Rico’s too damn jazzed not to be.

Outside on the sidewalk in the brisk evening air, as the feel of autumn swirls along the street, Luiz knocks the side of Rico’s head with his knuckles as they make their way back to the apartment three blocks away.

“Are you fuckin’ insane, Rico?”

“Oww! What the fuck you talkin’ about?”

“You want a fuckin’ bullhorn? Jeezuz, why not just print up flyers and stick ‘em under windshields, you stupid shit!”

“What? I didn’t say nothing.”

“You didn’t say nuthin? How about ‘I got teenage girls on my mind. Beautiful, luscious teenage girls who like to put out!’ You didn’t say that?”

“Like Joey’s gonna put two and two together and come up with, you know, her. Just from what little I said. Joey’s not that bright, Luiz.”

“He ain’t as stupid as you think. This girl is hotter than hell right now and....”

“Hot ain’t even the word for it!” Rico is almost salivating at the thought of another round with the costumed cunt. Luiz stops short and grabs Rico’s collar and yanks him close so they’re face to face, mere inches apart.

“I’m not talking ‘bout that kind of hot and you ought to fuckin’ know that, asshole! We got a good thing but it can get out of hand real quick if you don’t button up about this, Rico. Like now! You blow this for me and Paulie and we will toss you out on your ear. I promise.”

“Toss me? I’m the only one who’s got a job. Well, had a job up til today. Without me, you guys are snacking on cockroaches so stop the fuckin’ threats, Luiz. I ain’t in the mood.”

“Fine, Rico. I get it. I overstepped. But chill, bro. Just keep the news to yourself is all I’m asking. From here on out, no talking about teenage girls anymore. We tight on that?”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll zip it. It was stupid. But jeez, Luiz. We’re fucking Supergirl! It’s hard not to spread that news.”

“Yeah. But it’ll be harder to stay alive if you do it again. You gotta know that, right?”

“Right. You’re right. Absolutely. But Supergirl, Luiz!”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s pretty fuckin’ sick!” Luiz can’t help smiling himself as they head back toward their apartment building.


* * *


Diana is mewling softly with frustration at the wellspring of urges flooding up within her. Her crotch is damp with an itching need to be filled with hot, hard flesh. The tight seam of rubber pressing into the cleft of her vagina isn’t helping in the least. Even her ass is twitching and bobbing with a yearning for satisfaction from something long and unyielding. Penis or dildo or broom handle, she’d take what she could get. Squeaking and rippling in her tight rubber prison, Wonder Woman squirms and twists on her knees between Don Silvio’s thighs in her state of high sexual tension. With his pants surrounding his ankles, Don Corronado’s eyes gleam with animalistic pride at his domination of the comely rubber-sheathed vixen bowing before him in frenzied sexual servitude. The Amazon princess has her head pressed against Silvio’s raspberry shirt and is kissing his exposed pelvis, planting her lustrous, soft lips against his warm abdomen again and again, slowly trying to kiss her way north to his chest in the hopes of rubbing her crotch against his wonderfully erect, saluting prick.

“Mmmmmhhh...you taste sweet,” Wonder Woman purrs, going for his belly button. Firm hands press against her head, flattening her thick hair and stopping her progress.

“You’re going in the wrong direction again, you dumb slut. I told you already. No fillee pussy if no suckee cock!” Don Corronado pushes firmly against Wonder Woman’s head and she is forced backward until she is looking down at his throbbing one-eyed snake, it’s slit tip mere inches away from her desperate blue eyes.

“Fine. Sorry. Yes,” Diana moans in dismay. With her hands on his thighs, she commits herself to her chore. There was no way around it so she might as well make the best of it and get it over fast so she could enjoy the good stuff. Working up a mouthful of saliva, the randy Champion of All Women lets a long thick line of drool slide out of her mouth over the red tip of Don Corronado’s dick until it slides in bright trickles down the pale veined sides. Without hesitation, Wonder Woman goes down on the cock, taking the tip deep in her mouth. Slowly she starts sucking on the glans with patient but eager pulses of warm breath and gratifying suction. She maintains this action for about 20 seconds. Don Corronado is looking down at the raven- haired prize with wolfish pleasure. The stuck-up Amazon princess is finally delivering on the promise of that beautiful made-for-sucking mouth.

“THAT....THAT is what I’m talking about! AT LAST! By George, she’s got it!”

Diana giggles despite herself and the movement of her mouth pulls a jerk of pleasure from Silvio’s cock.

“Ohhh!” He gasps. “Keep sucking me off like that, champ. You’re finally making headway. Pun fucking intended!”

More giggles and more suction gets the Don breathing more heavily. He grunts with pleasure and then sharply commands, “Fondle my ballsack, Wonder Woman.”

Obeying instantly, her warm palm immediately begins to glide slowly down the length of his thigh, her tracing fingertips stroking through the fine hairs along the way as her hand gradually travels up his leg until it reaches the crotch. Then the palm slips over the dangling pouch and gently holds the warm nutsack in place, giving it a squeeze so soft that the balls within don’t even touch. Warm gentle pulsing at first is all Don Silvio feels and that’s great. But when the palm releases and the fingers start to slowly rub, circle, caress and linger lovingly all over around and under his scrotum even as Wonder Woman’s lips take a firm hold of his cock and give it a sudden back and forth glazing, Don Corronado gasps out loud with helpless delight.

“WHOOAAA! Haahhhhh.....whuuh....DAMN. Go to the head of the fucking class! Goddam. Where was that all night? Fuck, you filthy, no-good, cocksucking cunt. You were holding out on me! Admit it, whore.”

“Uhh uh! ...ust...twying to...pweeze...ooh. ‘Ant...ooh...tuh...uck me!” Diana keeps her hot mouth on Silvio’s dick as she talks but he gets the message.

“Well keep doing what you’re doing and I surely will, Wonder Woman. I’ll fuck you until you think your pussy is a Bavarian creme doughnut dripping on a hot windowsill.”

“....peeze...on...ilvio!. ‘Ow ‘oon?”

“Right after I blow my nuts down your throat. That soon enough for you, you plastic-wrapped jizzhole?”

“...eesssir...” The sex-crazed champion meekly replies, her eyes staring into his furry pubic hair, her head dizzy from his cologne, her twat twitching with desire.

“Good. Then put your finger in my ass, keep fondling my nuts, suck on my prick til I can’t see straight and let’s finish this thing with a bang, Wonder Woman. Oh, and be sure you swallow every drop that I spew, champ.”

Without comment, the frustrated Diana goes back to work, complying with all his demands. She wants to get this over and done with so her own raging lust can be satisfied. The feel of Kal’s huge cock driving within her from their session with Lex Luthor flashes back into Diana’s mind with a flush of hot desire that quickens her pace. In a sexual frenzy, Wonder Woman wiggles her forefinger deep within Silvio’s butt to stimulate his prostate gland while she continues to fondle his balls with her other hand. At the same time her head bobs relentlessly between Don Corronado’s thighs.

Leaning forward to find a more stable position, Diana strives to find satisfaction from the oral pleasure of this act. She wants to learn what the attraction is to women who profess to enjoy giving oral pleasure to their mates. She concentrates on the feel of the warm male shaft sliding back and forth within her mouth. The slippery feel of his pulsing veins sliding over her tongue tickles her senses. It is somewhat enjoyable. The hard length of him filling her mouth as it brushes over her sensitive lips again and again and again is also pleasurable. It’s not just the lips which gives her a delightful little shiver, but the hard fleshy staff that she sucks down on tightly while she passes her mouth over its rippling length is now actually getting her hot. It’s like a long, tangy sausage, slippery with oil that’s really kind of tasty! With wide-eyed astonishment, Wonder Woman comes to the earth-shaking realization that she actually likes sucking cock!

“Eemmmmmmhhhh!” She moans with pleasure and loses herself in the simple sensual delight of giving herself an oral thrill while she provides an exciting and fulfilling cum-sucking blow job to her client.

Client?

Diana pushes the random thought to the back of her mind and refocuses her complete attention on the hard, swollen shaft she’s swallowing deeply in her mouth. In and out, in and out, she slides her mouth over the long, slick length of Silvio’s rock hard rod, savoring the salty taste of him, exulting in the powerful pheremones mixed in with the cologne filling her nostrils, thrilling to the sensation of his cock as it pokes into and out of her open throat. Another new sensation that gives Wonder Woman a surge of pleasure. She picks up the pace even more now. Her black hair is flying back and forth with every jerk of her head, her sultry soft locks whipping against the inside of Silvio’s naked thighs, driving him to new heights of sexual tension.

“....wauulgkk....wauulgkk....wauulgkk....wauulgkk....wauulgkk....wauulgkk....” Wonder Woman’s eager head is like a piston in the shit-grinning Don’s lap, a blur of lust that brings Silvio to the very edge of ecstasy.

“Ohhhh.....yess.....Great....Fucking....BJ....” he gasps.

Diana’s fingertips continue to caress and tickle his groin with feathery, swishing brushwork. Her forefinger in his butt probes slightly deeper, finding his prostate and grazing lightly against it, drawing a gasping yip of joy from Silvio. And still her lips compress more firmly and Wonder Woman sucks hard and steadily on the don’s hot cock as her mouth slides up and down its length with unrelenting pressure.

“...ullgkk....ullgkk....ullgkk....ullgkk....” Silvio’s cock is completely enclosed in Wonder Woman’s mouth with every sucking downstroke now. Her lips brush up against his balls, her eyes are closed in unbridled delight as his sword fills her hot, clamping throat. Over and over, she persists in her fervor, her mouth sliding up and down his hard shaft with greasy eagerness, clamping down tight on every downward move and sucking on his shaft with hungry desperation. On every upward stroke she releases her firm lips, allowing her mouth to offer simple gentle friction as she withdraws along the length of his prick until the glans is tickled by the luscious red lips of the beautiful champion. And then she repeats this intensely erotic maneuver.

Again and again he is stroked by the mouth of the lust-motivated heroine. Slide, clamp, suck. Slide, clamp, suck. The wet, hot, unyielding friction from the blinding blur of Wonder Woman’s head in Silvio’s lap is overwhelming. The hot sucking sensation along the full length of him is beyond him. He can’t hold back the pleasure this cocksucking beauty is lathering all over his wet skin-tingling penis for one second longer. With his cock being swallowed and stimulated beyond his control, the Mafia executive grabs the back of Wonder Woman’s head and holds her tightly in place as his own head falls back on the couch and his eyes roll back under his lids with white hot ecstacy. Diana feels the cock swell and freeze in her mouth. She is halfway along his prick when his cock erupts in her mouth with a rushing stream of hot jism.

“GWAAAALLGKKK!” Wonder Woman’s eyes bulge wide as she tries to swallow the thick, white river of cum that flows out of Silvio’s cock like rushing water through a sluice gate. She opens her throat as much as she possibly can and feels the clumpy load surge down her gullet in a rush of hot salty liquid that stimulates her throat and actually dizzies her head with lusty little shiver of orgasmic elation. With Silvio still tightly pushing her head into his lap, Wonder Woman’s airway is blocked by dick and spurting shots of cum, she is having trouble breathing. Air is whistling through her nose but even that is sparse as her nostrils are buried in the sweaty tangle of Don Corronado’s short brown pubic hair.

“EHHT...GOHH!” She pulls her finger out of his ass and this sends yet another spurt of cum down her throat. Swallowing again, Wonder Woman clears her throat of sticky semen but the cock is still there pulsing and jerking within her mouth. She squeezes Silvio’s balls with short attention-grabbing pressure and he gets the message. He releases her head and she quickly pulls her mouth off his wet, shining cock. Drawing deep, heavy breaths into her desperate lungs, Diana wavers weakly between Don Corronado’s thighs as she gathers her composure. Her breasts rise and fall with huge expansive swells within the straining rubber suit as Silvio simply lies mutely back within the depths of the couch and savors his orgasm.

With her breath back and seeing her male consort lying there spreadeagled in dizzy oblivion, a sex-crazed Wonder Woman rises up and mounts him eagerly. Her hands press down on his chest, forcing the surprised Don deep into the cushion. Her hot, rubber-encased pussy is forced over Silvio’s dripping, half-erect cock, rubbing small hip-swiveling circles against him as her mouth finds his and her tongue invades his space with hot, wet, twisting heat.

“...mmmmffff...” Silvio is stunned as he is pinned in place and taken advantage of by this wanton floozy humping him like a slobbering black Labrador Retriever.

“Mmmmmhhhh,” Wonder Woman moans in delight at her prize. But aware of the deflating cock shriveling between her circling crotch, pulls her mouth off of Silvio’s and looks down at him with an obvious mix of frustration and hope. “How long til you can get hard again?” She looks into his brown eyes with panting expectation.

“Get off me, you skanky bitch!” He pushes up, his palms encompassing her large tits. It’s no use. Her weight and the soft cushion beneath him keep him pinned to the couch. Calming down, Silvio looks up into Diana’s blue fevered eyes and patiently speaks to her in his calmest voice possible. “I told you, Diana, that you will get your twat stuffed. But it’s got to be on my schedule not yours. I’ll need time to recharge, Princess. Would you like me to replace the dildos?”

“Oh, right. No. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it!” Bounding off the shocked Don with a sudden leap, Wonder Woman rushes over to the armchair and picks up both dildos in her two hands, her eyes lighting up with manic joy. Don Corronado stares in wonder at the uncontrolled frenzy of the Amazon warrior as she reaches behind her, finds the seal and yanks open the flap of her catsuit with a lusty grunt. Falling eagerly to her knees, the lip-biting beauty smells the two dildos and drives each one deep into its appropriate orifice with a rushing shove that draws a happy grunt of sexual satisfaction from the delirious champion. Looking up at Don Corronado with shining, wide-eyed lust, she yells out, “Get that damn remote and light me up, Silvio!”


* * *

Once again, Supergirl swims back from the black depths of consciousness with slow mental strokes. She hears heavy breathing and wonders if it’s hers. The rhythm isn’t right. She slowly opens her eyes and sees a hulking figure sitting cross-legged beside her in the dark. The bathroom light behind her throws a pale yellow square off to her left so she can just make out the face of Paul as he looks down on her with an eager light in his eyes and a slow heavy breathing from his broad rising and falling chest. His white t-shirt captures the ambient light making it barely readable: Dino’s Trucking. The cartoonish winking Mack truck headlight attests to the happiness of a well-run trucking firm. Paul is sipping something that smells very sweet to Supergirl and she would love to soothe her raw throat.

“Rrkfff meh..cgg.”

“Take off your gag?”

The blonde teen nods briskly.

“I don’t know. Luiz might not like it.”

Supergirl cocks her head and bats her eyes. “...eeeezzz”

“Fine. Promise to be quiet?” More brisk nodding. Paul peels the duct tape off the blonde hair and slowly unwinds it until just the white sweat sock is left in Supergirl’s mouth. He pulls out the clean, but damp, drool-filled sock and Supergirl opens her mouth wide and works her jaw til it clicks with a release of tension.

“Thank you, Paul,” she rasps. “What time is it? And what’s that you’re drinking? Can I have a sip? My throat is so raw.”

“It’s around 11:30. And this is chocolate milk with my own special ingredient. I have one for you here. I was hoping you’d wake up so we could talk and stuff.”

“Aren’t you sweet? You’re definitely the nicest man in this apartment. I appreciate how gentle you were about the...you know...sex stuff. You could have been much rougher but you weren’t.” Paul leans over and holds a second glass up to her lips and carefully tips it so she can sip it easily from the lip of the glass. It is sweetly delicious with a bit of a bite underneath the chocolate flavor but not unpleasant at all. She nods her head and takes a much larger drink of the tasty concoction letting the sweet coolness soothe her harsh throat. “Mmmh. That’s really good!”

“I’ve got a whole pitcher of it here,” Paul says, hoisting the blender pitcher in the air for her to see.

“Really? Can you maybe untie me so you don’t have to serve me every time?”

“You gotta promise me you won’t do nothing. Won’t try to like get away. If you give your word Supergirl, I’ll believe you.”

“I promise, Paul.”

“Okay, that’s good enough for me.” The gentle giant proceeds to untie Supergirl’s arms and legs with just a few minutes of effort. Undone, the Maid of Steel stands up and stretches her limbs, getting all the kinks out from hours of restricted, sleepy bondage. She takes a deep breath before sitting down next to Paul, pulling her knees up to her chest and smiling at him with a heart-stopping luminous smile.

“That’s much better. Thank you again, Paul.” She grasps the glass of chocolate milk and drains it eagerly, then holds it out for a refill. Paul tips out a full glass of the Brandy Alexander mix into the blonde’s glass and smiles widely back at her.

After 20 minutes of drinking, sharing talk about Paul’s life and whispered giggles, the blonde champion is wavering in place, drunk to the gills by the highly potent brandy she’d been downing steadily during their pleasant discussion. The position of the two figures has changed now. The drunk blonde beauty is leaning against Paul’s arms, still with her own wrapped around her knees. Her head rests on her arms but she doesn’t look comfortable.

“You want to sit in my lap, Supergirl?”

“Sure!” She shifts around and climbs into his broad lap, nestling her warm lithe body into his, matching her curves into his, her back against his chest, her arms covering his, her rear end flush against his slowly stirring member. She feels the shifting movement below her but doesn’t seem to mind it at all. In fact, she grinds herself gently over him, her firm cheeks nestling his expanding cock.

Giggling slightly, the intoxicated, soft, curvaceous Supergirl coos softly, “This feels nice.”

Holding the sensuous, wriggling, naively drunk Maid of Steel against his stiffening huge prick as he tightly hugs her with a bearish embrace, Paul’s eyes glint with a rush of lust as he replies with a husky drawl, “Doesn’t it though? Doesn’t it just feel special?”
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Used, Confused and Definitely Abused
Part 41-A



A very drunk, very powerless, very naive Supergirl settles the cleft of her ass deeper into Paul’s lap, spreading it over his expanding cock with a sigh and a giggle. Still wearing her famous costume, the booze-soaked blonde heroine is oblivious to her brazenly sluttish and scandalously inappropriate behavior. Thanks to her unfamiliarity with liquor and, after having downed over three-fourths of a pitcher of extremely tasty, extremely potent Brandy Alexanders, the befuddled teenage champion thinks nothing of rubbing her soft, rounded, lusciously-silky, red-skirted butt over the big man’s member. She teasingly squirms against it like it’s some kind of fun and innocent kid’s game. But the man’s meaty pole grows in his pants to its full 10 inches and at that point even the ditzy, thoroughly plastered blonde can’t miss the girth of the swollen wood beneath her. And yet she playfully avoids the subject entirely, thinking that simply issuing a nice compliment will defuse the sexual tension warming her rear end.

“Ya’ have a whery powa’ful body, Paul,” the blonde slurs in a mushy romantic blabber which is nothing more than the sloshing booze in her head talking. “It feels safe just ta’ be whrapp’d up innit.” Cooing and giggling, the inebriated teen reaches up and strokes Paul’s cheek with her warm palm.

“Well, let me hold you a little closer so you can feel even safer, little lady,” the large, crafty, completely sober ex-con says with a smile. One hand ceases the gentle pawing of Supergirl’s thigh and slides up and over to her stomach for a gentle caress before ultimately moving up and over her breast. The other hand comes up from the floor at her side to wrap around her mid-section. The two hands hold her firmly in place. “Now, you’re nice and secure,” he whispers in her ear.

“Mmm hmmm,” she murmurs in reply, letting her head fall back lazily against his barrel chest. “..‘cept... ih..feels like yur ghettin’...ah...bit ‘cited...bhig fella,” slurs the blonde with a stupid drunken grin. She was making this big man hard just by being on his lap. What a hoot!

“Well, let me see if I can return the favor, Supergirl.” Paul’s hand begins to rub Supergirl’s breast in slow, wide circles, the palm passing over the shiny red “S” of her renowned insignia with rough familiarity that goes completely unchecked by the slightly aroused teenage heroine. She doesn’t even move her hand off his face. In fact, if anything, the sloshed blonde arches her back a bit and willingly thrusts her right breast deeper into Paul’s big palm, filling it with her supple softness. He eagerly accommodates the boozily acquiescent beauty with a hard, steady squeeze that flattens out the fleshy tit in his hand and draws a feathery moan from the besotted girl champion.

“..ohhhhh...” she murmurs softly, “ya got wheal shtrong hanns.”

Pressing his advantage against this drunken teenaged wonder sprawled brazenly in his lap, Paul’s other hand slips beneath Supergirl’s loosely cinched belt and burrows deeply into her panties, his fat, long, middle finger sliding into the crevice of her pussy without any hesitation whatsoever.

“Whuhhh....oooooohhhh....wha’ ya...doennn?”

“Feel’s like I’m getting you a bit excited too, little lady,” Paul whispers in her ear with a lighthearted air to stymie the teen’s briefly confused hesitation at this forwardness. But then the big man picks up the pace with both hands, squeezing and fondling the flushed blonde’s boobs with firm, constant movements even as his finger works the silky pink crevice of Supergirl’s pussy with a hard, steady up and down rubbing action that draws gasps of pleasure and a thin, glistening shine of lubrication to her pulsing slit.

“...whell...’at...duzz....feel...fab’lush...” Supergirl mutters as her overstimulated figure begins to writhe against Paul’s powerful body.

“Just lie back and let me do the driving, sweet thing,” Paul urges quietly, then curls his tongue and sticks it in her ear. The pace of his hands and fingers heats up even faster and Supergirl begins to breathe heavily.

“Aw..rhite,” pants the plastered blonde heroine. “Whah..eveh...yooo..whant...is...okie dokie... whihh.... me...Pawlie...boy.”

In the light from the bathroom, Paul can see his hand jiggling the bright red material of Supergirl’s short skirt. Taking his hand off her breast, Paul quickly grabs the hem of the skirt and pulls it up to her stomach. The hand then quickly returns to her breasts, moving in a much wider oval now to encompass both soft, jiggling boobs within his firm, fondling passes.

“...attts....sgoooood....” mumbles the dazed blonde, her eyes half open, her irises drifting lazily under the eyelids, revealing the bright whites of her eyes with drunken unquestioning pleasure. The hand that is stretching out the silky red fabric of Supergirl’s panties is now moving with rapid strokes as Paul’s fat middle finger saws deeply in and out of the slippery pink crevice with unyielding persistence.

“...ahhhh.....ohhhhhh....dun’t...yuh...efven...th...th...think...’bout...shtopping...dat....” insists the boozy blonde heroine as the crotch of her panties darkens to a deep wine red color, the fabric damp from the now steady flush of clear, thin lubrication draining from her excited pussy. Her panting grows in volume and speed.

“What’s the matter, Supergirl? Getting a little overheated by my finger twiddling your twat?”

“....jes...keep...dune...dthaat!”

“Or maybe I should try doing this, Supergirl.” Inside the famous heroine’s now hot, damp, heavily honeyed panties, Paul’s middle finger stops thrusting deep within the drippy tunnel. With a jerk and a tickle, the finger retreats backward until it is rubbing up and down within the entrance of the wriggling blonde’s cunt, sliding along the surface of her puffy lower lips. With each firm upward stroke, using a very determined pressing quiver against her clitoris, Paul fervently massages Supergirl’s slit and clit with steady, constant strokes of his fat, deliberate digit.

“UH! ..mmmh...my...my...! OH!....at’s...umbleev’ble! Aiyee. Oh...hoh......whoooh...oh.... hooh...ohhh...”

Paul’s hand moves off of Supergirl’s breasts, sliding up her chest until it reaches her long, arched neck. Grasping his palm around her openly exposed throat, just under the red leather spiked dog collar, Paul cagily and steadily squeezes down on it even as his finger becomes a blurring, fanatical rubbing machine within her disheveled, slippery panties.

With her airway compressed, the drunk blonde’s eyes roll and dart in frantic confusion. She is bewildered by this dangerous predicament and intensely excited as well. Her hand over her head clutches feebly at Paul’s wrist, trying to loosen the grip to no effect whatsoever. Unable to breathe freely, the now red-faced heroine has never been quite so overwhelmed by a mix of passion and danger at the same time. With her body held rigidly frozen in place by powerful arms across her pelvis and chest, the air in her lungs dwindling to precious low levels, her head dizzy with oxygen depletion and heavy alcoholic overdosing, Supergirl’s clitoris is now being stimulated by a fluttering fingertip that circles, strokes and caresses the pink knob with relentless precision. The fast, fluttering finger’s concentrated attention to her pleasure is unending!

Like a wheel of fortune that spins and spins and spins yet again within her, each time coming up at “Take another turn,” the finger caresses and the pleasure builds. Supergirl is completely breathless now as her throat is compressed more and more and the slippery, constant unremitting sensation of the unforgiving finger rolls over the surface of her swollen pink clit. Circling it’s smooth sensitized surface over and over and around and around, the movement is cumulative and undeniable, circling the pinkness forever. It winds her emotions up like a rubber band curling on itself in tight rubber knots. And still the finger continues to move. And the hand at her throat continues to contract.

Over and over, endless circles and the clutching grip create a whirlpool in the dizzy young blonde. The throbbing pink nub quivers like a bowstring at High C, inundated beyond all measure by this feel of flooding, sliding, tickling, touching, twitching and rubbing of the very center of pleasure itself. It just won’t stop. The slippery digit will not relent, will not slow down, will not cease its cyclonic rubbing. Hot slippery brushing circles swirl over, under and all around the slippery pink surface of her very existence. Their cycling vortexes create yawning whirlpools of inflamed, desperate desire. And still the hot palm grasps her throat tightly, allowing no surcease from its airless vise. It is all beyond Supergirl now. She cannot resist, cannot breathe, cannot think, cannot defend her right to live, to protect her virtue, to prevent her body or her will from succumbing to the only conclusion possible. The finger points to her destiny, continuing unabated, unrelenting, unforgiving as it twirls, rubs, strokes and tickles all that she is, all she was, all she ever will be. And then it begins to happen. The irrevocable cycling finger initiates a warm rushing glow within an oxygen-deprived Supergirl that quickly spreads white and hot in her brain. The ultimate twirling sensation becomes a wave now. Expanding within her like a sun going nova within her head.

It’s here! It’s here! It’s here at last! Uh...uh...uh...ORGASM!

Truly, the stroking, the choking, the pinning and the spinning within her, around her and all the way through her to the very core of her being finally blows Supergirl’s brain to smithereens. She comes in Paul’s unyielding grasp with a mindless jarring jolt of utter joy that comes out as a silent scream of uninhibited pleasure and a jerking, flailing, bucking of Supergirl’s helpless body. Her hips jerk and buck, her tits shimmy, her boots flop and kick in mindless paroxysms of pleasure. Even as Paul’s steely grip on her throat finally relents, Supergirl can barely be restrained by the arms of the huge, powerful man. The young teenage heroine shivers, shakes, moans and groans with the rocking of this blasting overwhelming orgasm that blinds the blonde beauty to the edge of consciousness even as it shakes her entire body like a limp doll.

“Uhhhhhhhh....ohhhhhhhh.....uh...uh...uh...uh...uh...uh...uh...” Supergirl is a stuttering, brainless twitching, spasming wreck, blasted by an orgasm of earth-shaking finality. She is lost in time and space, a soul without a body. And this fills her with a surprising sadness that is overwhelming. Who am I? What am I?

Then the renowned Maid of Steel falls back to earth, broken on the anvil of reality. She breaks down into heavy whimpering, wheezy sobs, a limp, defenseless, overwrought, pathetically foolish, drunken teenage girl who’s been toyed with and easily manipulated at will. She knows this in her heart and that she let it all happen without batting an eye! Her flawless body goes suddenly slack in Paul’ lap, her legs draped to the side, her dark underpants dripping from her orgasm. Her eyes are slits of white as she drools with her head hanging off to the side of Paul’s chest in a near faint of absolute weeping fulfillment and total despair at her frightening, helpless journey to oblivion.

“You liked that, didn’t you, you drunken slut.”

“....uuhhhhhhhhhhnnn....” Unintelligible moaning seems answer enough for the big man.

“Now it’s my turn, beautiful,” Paul says with a leer as he thinks briefly about which hole he’s going to penetrate of the dazed, limp heroine draped over him in lethargic ecstacy. But it’s no contest really. He knows which hole.


* * *


Diana looks at Don Corronado with a lusty gleam of desire burning bright in her eyes. She is waiting for him to start up the dildos within her vagina and her rear end as she had brazenly asked him to do from across the room. Clad within her tight rubber catsuit, the flap to her crotch pulled open and dangling between her legs, Wonder Woman kneels on the carpet, her back erect, one hand squeezing her own nipple, the other circling against her pubic hair drawing mindless zeroes as she awaits her pleasures. Her face is twisted with urgent need as she kneels there in silence, impatiently squirming and working her nipple as she longs for the two dildos to start spinning and humming within her crotch. The Nympho-Patch that Don Silvio had pasted to the middle of her back was flooding her body with trembling, intoxicating desire and Diana just had to get satisfaction as fast as she could and as much as she could....and it still wasn’t coming.

“Come on, Don Silvio. Be as sport, huh? Just start up the remote and get them going so I...i...can get nice and wet for you. I guess that’s what he’d want to hear. Uh....oh, YEAH! Make me hot for you. Get my vagina all warm and eager for your big, hard staff of love. Okay? Yes?”

She bites her lip now, waiting for the motion to begin any second now. She is staring with eager anticipation at the quiet Don. She twists her nipple with savage need, trying to pull pleasure from it like twisting a knob on a car radio. The fingers on her other hand have begun scratching gentle rows into her downy black bush as if she were raking a field of fresh cut hay. She kneels impatiently on the carpeted floor, quivering with need, expecting the spinning, buzzing, mind-numbing thrill to start momentarily. Waiting for the explosion of delight. Waiting for....forever!

“Here. Let me have the remote,” Diana snaps impatiently as she rises up off her knees and takes two steps toward the couch where a placid, staring Don Silvio sits without moving a muscle. He’s just looking at her like she’s a museum exhibit. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I get them going while you...UNGHH!”

Silvio has pushed a blue button on the remote that freezes Diana in her tracks, her back arched in pain as a single tiny needle embedded within each dildo springs out from each separate tip of the two plastic rods she’s inserted into her own orifices. They spike into her vaginal and anal walls with sharp, stinging jabs.

“Owww! Ohhh! Damn.....That really hurt! What the hehhh......ugghhhhnnn” Wonder Woman’s head suddenly wavers in dizzy confusion as the highly potent knockout agent injected by the needles in each device surges into her brain, carried there by her bloodstream with record dispatch. The mighty Amazon beauty crumples to the carpet in a eye-rolling, slack-jawed heap of translucent rubber encasing inert flesh.

Don Silvio Corronado stands up and slowly walks over to the unconscious Princess of the Amazons. He looks down at the lovely, shining, tangled limbs and the blank expression of complete obliviousness as she lies at his feet in a tumbled, sedated heap, her eyes slitted nearly shut and her mouth agape.

“Once again, Wonder Woman, you refuse to understand the contract of control that I demand from you this evening. Ah well, you will learn.”


* * *


The senseless, blasted Maid of Steel lies sprawled face-down on the floor of the living room, not two feet from the radiator to which she’d been tied all that afternoon. Darkness has invaded the apartment. It’s after 11:30 at night. Rico and Luiz are deeply asleep, played out from their energetic two sessions with Supergirl earlier that afternoon. The bathroom light pours out from the door, the only illumination in the apartment at the moment, except for the glow of moonlight turning the thin, torn window shades a pale luminescent white.

The pretty blonde’s eyes are shut as she lies in the semi-darkened room. Her lids flutter from the muscles there twitching occasionally from deep relaxation and from firing neurons in her clouded nebula, light years away in her drifting cosmic brain.

Supergirl’s wide, soft cheek rests against the hard wood. A small puddle of drool has formed, draining from her mouth over soft pink lips crushed sideways by the floorboards. The blonde’s arms, bent at the elbows, are flat against the cool wood, her palms face down, fingers spread. Supergirl’s damp panties, ripe with the pungently sweet scent of her blinding, shuddering pleasure, are being pulled down to her thighs, stretched tightly by her slightly spread legs. Her large assailant looms over her limp body, his one palm is pressed against the small of Supergirl’s back, the other clutches the crotch of the heroine’s panties as he strips the famous teen of her bright red underwear. With quiet efficiency, Paul pulls the damp red panties all the way down the dazed teenager’s legs, lifting her bright red boots when he has to and then tossing the panties onto the top of the white painted radiator. Heavily sedated by the booze and her orgasm, the blonde beauty is not even aware of the all too easy, humiliating removal of her costume panties.

Paul repositions himself over the girl, kneeling behind her and sitting on his calves. Slowly, the hand moves to Supergirl’s rear end and glides in smooth, lazy circles over and around the high curves of the beautiful blonde heroine’s supple ass. The silky red skirt draped over the protruding mounds highlights the luscious peaks and forbidden valleys of the inert blonde’s incredible tush while barely protecting the illusion of her modesty. But that doesn’t last long. As Paul’s hand presses more insistently against the soft rounded hills of Supergirl’s shiny fabric-covered butt, it pulls and shifts the miniskirt in circles now, too. With a firm, circling caress up to the bottom of Supergirl’s belt, the captured skirt is pulled up to reveal the dazed blonde’s perfect bare buttocks. The creamy smooth globes of her youthful, flawless teenage rear are accented by shadow and light. The glow from the bathroom creates warm yellow highlights on her left cheek while her right is merely suggested in soft shade. And deeper in the shadows between her thighs, the hint of her feminine treasures glints and winks from the shine of her earlier flushing orgasm.

Moaning with a low carnal need, Paul reaches down with both hands now and, after pulling up her costume skirt so it lays against her back, he spreads apart the blonde champion’s exposed cheeks, pulling open her revealed anus slightly with his powerful grasp. And the satiated teen heroine doesn’t even whimper as her tender rectum is conspicuously revealed to the piercing eyes of the looming animal above. She is floating in an alcoholic stupor and a daze of delight, spent and exhausted by the last twelve hours. The only thing that ultimately breaks into her reverie is the warm, slippery sensation on her balloon knot as Paul’s hanging cord of saliva breaks the tension from his mouth and puddles up in the tiny creases of her rectum.

“...uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....” The long, low moan of returning awareness comes sighing out of the lovely teen’s skewed pink lips. It breaks several thin bubbles in the drool on the floor beneath her slack mouth. But before Supergirl can collect her wits enough to process the wet sensation at her anus, a heavy weight presses against her back, pinning her to the floor, forcing her pelvic bone into the unrelenting wood.

“Hhuunghhh!” she groans from the pain of more than 230 pounds of male domination crushing against her body. And then there is the sound of a zipper and the heat of something large pressing within her cheeks. A hot slippery prodding tool is being pushed against her anus and Supergirl’s senses begin to return. But by then, it is too late for her. “Huhnhh. Whud’ja dune,” she protests.

“Buttfucking the famous Supergirl. What do you think I’m doing, girlie?”

The hot, thick pressure against her tightly clenched anus as Supergirl is mercilessly pinned to the floor is powerful, insistent and wetly inescapable. She begins to plead even as the tip of the swollen penis pushes into the helpless yielding circle of her balloon knot.

“Stop! Don’t. You don’t have to do this. I’ll....I’ll suck your cock if you want, Paul.” Her drunken foolishness has now dissipated, leaving a throbbing headache in its wake.

“Not interested, Supergirl.”

“..unhhh...wait...don’t....oww!” The pressure against her rear is inexorable as the hot, rigid shaft has poked its full bulbous head into her ass now. “Let me turn...oh!...over...and ...and...you can...oww!... fuck me...much as you want...”

“Your back door is fine with me, blondie. In fact, I prefer it, if you want the truth.”

“But..but...you’re too big...!”

“My cock didn’t get any bigger since this afternoon, champ, and you took all of me just fine then.” He presses his hips forward and his rock-hard penis is forced four hot inexorable inches deep into her ass.

“Ughnn....owww...b..b..but I was...I was...more excited then...and you used....gel! There’s no gel now!” The blonde teen is whining fairly loudly now. “Can you use the gehh...EGGHHK!” Paul’s palm comes out of nowhere and grips her throat fiercely once again. This time cutting off her words and her air from the front.

“Shut up, Supergirl. I’m callin’ the shots. Not you.” And with that, the large, brutish thug puts his hand in the small of her back and thrusts his hips forward, impaling Supergirl’s ass with his cock, driving it deep within her twin fleshy mounds.

“GUUNNGH!” The gasping grunt is followed by a harshly choked off painful yelp that the choking palm silences it to a wheezy whisper. With over eight long inches of Paul’s rigid warm shaft forced into her ass, the dazed and choked heroine feels like she’s being split like a cord of wood.

“Shhhh! Don’t want to wake the fellas, girlie,” whispers Paul.

Supergirl’s eyes clench shut and her mouth hangs open in helpless anguish from the loss of oxygen and the stiff rod driven deep within her barely lubricated ass.

“You’re really not used to not getting your own way, are you, hero?” Paul breathes into the grimacing blonde teenager’s ear as he forces himself even deeper into the slowly yielding tunnel of the Maid of Steel’s anal cavity, inching it forward through the raw fleshy tube.

“...uuhhhhh...aaaaghh.....” Wincing in pain as the powerful staff pushes into her, Supergirl tries to somehow convert the torment to pleasure in her mind. To turn this horrific brutal act into a vision of pleasure that will somehow lubricate her so the pain will relent. But the hot, wide, pulsing shaft pressing its way relentlessly into her is too harshly raw against her anal walls to be anything but painful.

“...eghhnnn....ohhhhhhh....owwwww.....”

The pole pushes deeper still and the hand that was in the small of her back now palms her head and pushes Supergirl’s face hard against the floor. With one hand clutching her throat and cinching her airway to a fraction of its useful width and the other gripping her skull, Paul’s arms press forward, flattening Supergirl’s soft, pale cheek against the cool wood and pulling a whimpering moan from her even as his full ten-inch cock penetrates to the very depths of her ass.

“..aarrghhh.....yeeaaghh......ss..sss...ssss...sstaahhppp...” The pinned, pleading heroine has nowhere to go. Her brain won’t let her escape the pain. Her body and head are being ground into the wooden floor by this behemoth. And now her breath is whistling through her grimacing face like air escaping a balloon.

“You got a problem, little miss bubble butt?”

“...s’much...pain....c...c...caaan’t....breeeeeethhhe....”

“Gosh. That’s not good! Say, why don’t you just use your amazing strength and simply escape, Supergirl?” Paul continues to press against the helpless Maid of Steel with his hands and the weight of his body. After a few more seconds of trying to push the beautiful girl through the wooden floor to the apartment below, Paul relents and withdraws his prick slowly out of the raw tunnel of pain that Supergirl’s inflamed rear has become. He even lets up on the pressure for the moment so she’s not being crushed mercilessly against the unyielding wood. When his penis is two-thirds out of her ass, the looming thug speaks with unrestrained glee.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot. You don’t have any amazing powers, do you? So, I guess that means you can’t escape!” He then thrusts his cock back into Supergirl’s ass with a massive jolt of his powerful hips.

“HUUGHHNN! Eeeieee...” Supergirl grunts again then squeaks in a frightened whimper of pain as her body is once again crushed to the floor by Paul’s heavy frame even as his hot pulsing prick throbs within her sore ass. The hand gripping her skull releases and then reaches down to around her thigh, pulling the blonde teen’s pelvis closer to the floor as the cock pulls out once again. And then the punishing prick rushes back into the deep center of her anal cavity with yet another heavy driving thump.

“AUUGHH!”

“Yeah, the famous Maid of Steel just can’t handle a good old fashioned ass pounding unless she gives her permission. Well, I didn’t say ‘pretty please’ beautiful but your ass is still wrapped around my cock. I guess you’re just not the big hero you thought you were, huh, Supergirl?”

“...aahhhh....errhhhggggg....” Supergirl’s eyes snap open now, her irises darting in panic as her mouth yawns wide as she tries to draw in air through the thin shaft of raw pain that is her throat. The rigid hot pole now begins to move in and out of her wobbling buttocks with slow, repetitive thrusts as Paul takes his sadistic pleasure from her helpless torment.

“You are one tight piece of non-super ass, blondie. I’ll give you that,” Paul breathes roughly into the back of her head. “If you promise to be quiet, I’ll stop chokin’ you.”

“..ESS! ESSS!” Supergirl frantically rasps out her agreement.

“That’s a good girl.” The hand disappears from her throat and reappears seconds later at her other thigh, pulling her legs outward so her thighs and her calves press against the floor with her knees bent at right angles. Paul’s large, heavy upper body presses the grimacing blonde’s fleshy chest flat against the floor as his hips rock back and forth in the air over the helpless Maid of Steel’s dimpled rump. Slowing his rhythm down to a patient crawl, the powerful man uses slow, inexorable force to shove his cock into Supergirl’s trembling rear end. He pushes its large girth the full length of her cavity until it stretches it’s walls wide from opening to end with pulsing heat. And then he withdraws it slowly, savoring the tight friction as it pulls out of the warm confinement of her ass to the cool air between her thighs. And then the whole cycle begins anew. The slow push, the expanding walls, the whimper of pain from the blonde beneath him, the final encompassing spasming of her muscles. He does this six times, savoring the sensations with every passage into anal heaven as he drives his full length in between the groaning girl’s buttocks.

“Uuughhnn............owwwww............ohhhhhh............owwww............uuughhnnn.... ....ohhhhh....” The helpless teenager grunts and moans as she receives every slow, inevitable invasion of the mammoth cock into the crevice of her naked rear.

“Yeah! This is how a superhero like you needs to learn her place!”

Paul’s heat and frustration and anger at how unfairly life has treated him builds up in his mind now, electrifying his body as he suddenly begins to plunge his hot tool in and out of Supergirl’s anus with raw, rapid fury. As he thrusts his cock in and out of the tight, hot tunnel he’s made slightly slick with sweat and spit, Paul relishes the pinching feel of her spasming rectum as much as he does the pleasure of being able to dominate something for once, to control someone else’s life for once. To show Supergirl, once and for all, that she just couldn’t tease him without paying the price. He was her only master now and the master of his own destiny for the moment. He needed to teach her this lesson well.

His stiff prick now drives in and out of the whimpering blonde with fast, short punishing half-foot long strokes. Again and again he withdraws and plunges his massive tool into the tight confines of Supergirl’s rear as she writhes and twists in helpless, whimpering frustration beneath him. Her body is rocked over and over with every thrust of his hips. Her eyes stream with tears at the disgrace, the pain and the desperation she feels with each jolt of his nutsack bumping against her crotch.

“..uhhn.....uhhn.....uhhn.....uhhn.....uhhn....uhhn....uhhn....” Supergirl grunts repeatedly as her body is crashed into by the massive bulk of Paul’s physique again and again with no end in sight.

But then, the rushing flow of pleasure from the intense friction surges into the fevered brain of the hulking ex-con now, melding with his excitement and joy at total domination of the strongest female on the planet. She was his plaything and she knew it. She couldn’t fight the sensation of his hot, thrusting manhood and the inevitable realization of her crushing defeat, and now he can’t hold back the rushing sensation either of absolute pleasure. Paul’s nuts contract and his thrill at his conquest explodes from him with a powerful surge of total physical release as his hot jism shoots outward from his prick into the depths of Supergirl’s rear, showering her insides with thick spunky ecstasy.

“Uhhn! Yes! Take that, hero!” Paul’s grunts with savage joy. He virtually radiates with pleasure as he feels his penis pulse as it spurts his pungent semen into Supergirl’s limp form. He grinds his body against the helpless blonde with ultimate satisfaction. His prick throbs and pulses with delight as it spurts intermittently within her rear. And a helpless Supergirl is forced to endure this ultimate humiliation, unable to resist this undeniable fact of her debasement. The famous teen heroine is bleakly compelled to accept this unfathomable disgrace of a man spewing his seed up her ass. This was an anal rape that she could in no way prevent and, to her horror, may even have instigated herself by her drunken actions earlier in the evening. I am a miserable failure as a heroine and a person. That’s the cold hard truth!

Finally, pleased and relaxed, Paul lets his whole body settle and he lies on the small blonde beneath him, his massive form crushing her slight figure against the floor, overwhelming the beaten teen.

“....owww!.....ghetoff....please...get off..me.” weeps the defiled heroine. “..p..please.. ..you’re....hurting me...”

“Fuck off, princess. I’m enjoying the moment. You don’t get moments like this very often in life, so I’m taking my time, champ!” The nasty thug actually squirms against the small teen with a shivering roll of pleasure, pressing her body even more harshly into the unforgiving floor.

“Aaaghhh.”

“Yeah, you’re not so tough when your famous panties are stripped off ya’, Supergirl. Your precious bunghole is just as available as any whore struttin’ her stuff on the streets.” Pulling his hand up from her thigh and back to her throat, Paul squeezes down firmly on her pale neck, compressing it slowly and relentlessly. “Am I right or am I right?”

“...urgkk!...r..r..right...ur...right,” Supergirl rasps with desperate submissiveness.

“Yeah, I knew I was!” After releasing her throat, Paul lies there for another half-minute, actually stroking Supergirl’s hair as she cringes in disgust. Finally, he raises his body off of the small blonde. He presses his hand against Supergirl’s bare ass and slowly pulls his cock out of her anus. A wide trickle of thick white jism tinged pink with the blood from her raw anus walls immediately flushes out of the prone teenager’s rear and puddles on the floor between her spreadeagled thighs. The Maid of Steel sighs mournfully in place, relieved that the crushing weight of this bastard’s huge bulk was finally off her at least, and that his massive cock is finally removed from her pulverized, aching ass. She pushes the shame of the sodomy and the wet, leaking sensation of rank-smelling sperm draining out of her ass to the far back recesses of her mind. It’s an ugly thing she can’t bear to think about right now. She simply breathes the stale air as his hot breath wafts over her head and takes solace in the fact that she was not choked to death in his fevered rape.

“I guess I’d better tie you up nice and tight again,” the drowsy brute mumbles as, once again he sits on his haunches, his energy quickly dissipating now. “Let’s see where did I put those cords and that flashlight? Ah, here they are.”

The pale girlish figure lying in whimpering hopelessness on the floor is bathed in the warm yellow shaft of light from the bathroom. Her painfully sore ass occupies all her attention and the forlorn blonde champion does not even sense the silvery tool as it gleams in the upper arc of its swing. Supergirl only feels the hard, sudden pain of cheap, dented metal on bone and sees a blinding flash of white as the flashlight crashes into the back of her skull. And then all the lights disappear entirely.

Above the unconscious teen, her damp panties dangle over her head off the top edge of the old radiator. They reek of her foolish drunken desire and her complete degradation. Paul smells them clearly, breathing in the powerful, exhilarating scent of Supergirl’s utter defilement, savoring it sweetly as he ties up the limp figure in the soft amber light.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
Zeta Clark
Sargeant
Sargeant
Posts: 143
Joined: 10 years ago
Location: The Wizard's Library
Contact:

I love your use of alliteration (drunken desire...degradation).

Excellent use of dialog as well.

Your characters always move me emotionally...whether that emotion is sadness, joy, or anger. Great work as always.
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Used, Confused and Definitely Abused
Part 41-B



The sharp, tingling discomfort in Diana’s wrists ultimately pulls her up from the depths of the small black lake of senselessness into which she’d been thrown headfirst.

“..uunnghh...” She pulls her head up off her chest with a soft groan, stands up straight and opens her eyes. Sitting on the bed in her Pleasure Dome suite is Don Silvio Corronado. He is talking on his cell phone.

“No, actually she just woke up. Pretty much on schedule, just like you called it. No, I’m good. Thanks, Sergei.” Silvio snaps the phone shut and looks over at Wonder Woman pinned to the wall of her bedroom suite.

“How long have I been out?” The Amazon princess asks as she looks sideways at the shackles that hold her rubber-encased arms out horizontally to the sides. She’d been hanging limply in the steel cuffs holding her to the wall and her wrists are sore from her weight pulling downward on the unforgiving metal bands. Interestingly, the shackles are secured to the walls exactly where two wall sconces were originally located. In fact, Diana notices the sconces lying in the far corner of the room. Their pointed, notched backs were obviously interchangeable with the shackles and who knew what other despicably evil bondage equipment. Looking down, Diana frowns to see her legs spread apart and her ankles also cuffed in bright steel shackles. These have chains that stretch on either side with only a touch of slack to anchors in the wall exactly where two electrical outlets used to be. More clever inventiveness by Tony Bonano’s suite designers.

“Well, let’s see. You’ve been slumbering fitfully for about 20 minutes now. I placed you in the shackles just five minutes after you passed out.”

“Was knocked out you mean.”

“As you wish, Princess,” Don Corronado waves his hand in the air as though the point was of no consequence at all.

“You placed me in these shackles,” Diana’s eyebrows arch noticeably.

“That’s correct,” Silvio replies.

“Great,” Diana says flatly. Shackled by a man, as if she didn’t have enough problems. Now she had even less strength than ever. She was also compelled to obey this bastard but she wasn’t sure if he even knew that. Hopefully he wouldn’t be giving her any direct commands.

“Problem?”

“No, I was just wondering how much fun you had carrying me into the bedroom, propping me up and pinning me to the wall. Just how many free feels did you cop during my session with Morpheus?”

“We counting just tits or tits and twat combined?”

“Go for broke. The whole set. How many?”

“I’d say about two dozen or so gropes. Very pleasurable gropes I have to say. 18 for those marvelously full jugs of yours that are simply irresistible. Couldn’t help myself. And, what, I guess six times sliding my hand over, under and around the mushy softness of that warm, moist cunt of yours. I left the flap open for easy access and to give your pussy some air. Besides, your delighted moaning when I fondled your breasts and manipulated your pink little twat indicated a certain agreeable acquiescence so I saw no reason not to partake of your charms.”

“No reason not to, really. Glad I could get your rocks off.”

“Likewise, I’m sure.”

“Too bad I wasn’t conscious enough to actually enjoy it.”

“I’m not so sure you didn’t judging by the noises you made. But hey, it’s not too late to repeat the procedure. I’m sure that Nympho Patch still has a fair amount of juice in it. Would you like my to squeeze your boobs right now, Princess?”

“I think the moment’s passed.”

“Don’t be so sure. Sergei says the stuff embedded in the patch is pretty powerful and lasts for hours. I only applied it about 40 minutes ago. I’ll bet you still got plenty of loving left to give once I get your motor running again, Wonder Woman.” Silvio begins walking toward the Amazon champion sealed in the full-body, tight rubber catsuit and shackled to the bedroom wall. In his hands, Diana notices he has a small pair of sharp, pointed scissors. Her irises enlarge as her breathing picks up a bit as Silvio speaks in that low honeyed voice of his.

“Let’s try something and see if you like it, Princess.”

“Terrific. You’re going to mutilate my body now?”

“Damage such a treasured body as this? That would be a crime against nature. Also against Sergei’s rules.”

“Remind me to thank him when we’re done here.”

“As will I for the pleasure of your company.”

“You charmer, you,” Diana says without a glimmer of a smile.

“I get no complaints from the ladies.”

“Well, if they do complain, I’m guessing they end up in cement shoes at the bottom of the East River. A whole school of non-floating ex-girlfriends who couldn’t resist your charms. Am I right, Don Silvio?”

Silvio is standing right before Diana now, his eyes narrowed and cold. His brown irises are the color of East River mud and they are staring directly into Wonder Woman’s wary blue eyes. The glint of the steel scissors shoots up between the two warm bodies facing each other. Don Corronado waves the open scissors in Wonder Woman’s face, clicking the steel blades open and shut inches away from her compressed red lips.

“You do like to play with fire, don’t you, Wonder Woman?” The angry don’s eyes flash with tense energy that crackles in the face of Diana’s insult.

“You did say that you admired my courage if I recall, you handsome Don, you” trying to appease the tight-lipped mobster before her.

“Now who’s the charmer?” Don Corronado relaxes at the compliment. He slips the scissors into his pants pocket for the moment.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em. You have good looks, a sexy voice, money and power. What’s not to like?” Diana is pleased she’s defused the situation. And then she blunders as her swelling pride gets the better of her. “I’m just surprised you have to resort to whores to get women.”

“You know, you surprise me, Wonder Woman. You really should have a lot more self-respect, you being the supposed Champion of All Women, my dear. Tch, tch, referring to yourself that way.”

“I...i...didn’t mean me,” Diana stutters, momentarily thrown by her unconscious Freudian slip.

“Actually, I believe you did, whether you knew it or not,” Don Corronado gets right in Wonder Woman’s face and begins ticking off his points on his fingers. “Let’s look at the facts so far, shall we? You got paid up-front by me for services rendered. Those services included you willingly making me a nice little tea and a cheese plate like a good little fake wifey; you giving me a horrible but earnest blow job, also like a fake wifey; you learning how to suck my cock like a professional whore, you actually showing pride in that lesson although you are a supposed feminist heroine; you then successfully sucking my joint better than any whore I’ve ever had, again, even though you are supposedly a heroic feminist icon. What else, oh yeah, and you shoving two dildos up your crotch holes for my entertainment and your own slutty pleasure. Now I don’t know about where you come from, but in my neighborhood, that all adds up to you being a regular, run-of-the-mill, dyed-in-the-wool whore, sweetie. Plain and simple!”

“That’s not how it is!” Diana’s voice stresses in an unnaturally high pitch as she shakes her head.

“That’s not the way you want to see it. But that’s certainly how it is. Now let’s get those nipples stimulated and your twat slippery, what do you say, whore?” And without hesitation, Don Corronado reaches over with one hand and squeezes, flicks and tickles Wonder Woman’s nipple through the clear rubber with very hard, deliberate movements. Despite herself, the fierce attention to her nipple creates a warmth of sensation that enlarges the brownish nub to a hard pointed roundness that stretches out the rubber noticeably.

“And now the other,” says the smiling don with methodical delight. In seconds, Diana’s other nipple protrudes glaringly through the shiny rubber encasing her massive chest.

“That’s the excited heroine I like to see,” Don Corronado teases as the gorgeous female hero glares at him, straining against her shackles in tense frustration. “Now let’s get that pussy of yours worked up to a lather, shall we?” That said, the grinning don reaches between Diana’s spread open thighs and immediately begins rubbing her exposed snatch with his fingers. He slides his forefinger all around the thin outer pink lips of the defenseless beauty’s vagina while frequently alternating to his thumb as it rubs seductively at the upper crease of her slit, stimulating Diana’s clitoris with steady, firm repetitive strokes.

“Hahhh...ohhhhhhh....uuuhhh....” Wonder Woman begins to pant and moan, her legs flexing and pulling futilely against her restraints as Don Silvio’s fast and furious finger work stirs up her passions and reinstates a surge of aphrodisiac chemicals through the famous Amazon’s body. The mighty Amazon begins to sweat as she writhes in her chains while the determined don ignites her wanton lust with his massaging hands and fingers.

“...ahhhh....wait...enough...made your...point...”

“Oh, I’m not even close yet, Princess,” Silvio says to the straining heroine. “There’s a lot more to come before you cum. But I’m glad that you so readily conceded my point about you being a whore. You certainly have the body for it. And the temperament, too, it seems.”

With both hands, Don Corronado reaches forward and squeezes Wonder Woman’s breasts in his palms, fondling her roughly through the rubber suit. He plays with them mercilessly, pulling, rolling, mauling and compressing them. He flattens them into fat, gorged disks, stretches them into long torpedoed ovals, shapes them into dimpled doughy loaves of flesh and pulls them into conical, nipple-stretched boobs of pink, tortured flesh.

When he’s done with that, he returns to his finger work with her vagina, invading her region with every manipulative, stroking caress he can think of. After three minutes, Wonder Woman is a gasping, panting, horny, red-faced heroine who wants nothing more than to be filled with a hard, fat fleshy rod.

“Ohhhhh...do me...Don Silvio...put your..penis...into me...” Diana breathes out raspily, her head low, her eyes fogged with lust from the Nympho patch as they peer out eagerly through her disheveled hair.

“Still not even close, Wonder Woman. But let’s cut out two holes and give those imprisoned nipples of yours a taste of freedom, shall we?”

The scissors reappear from Silvio’s pocket and he carefully grips the pliable rubber from around Diana’s left nipple and gently pulls it away from the engorged brown nub. Stretching out the clear material two inches away from her protruding nipple, Silvio snips the rubber with the tips of the razor sharp scissors and the latex snaps back against Diana’s breast encasing it firmly with only a three inch wide hole through which the freed nipple pokes with a seemingly excited bounce.

A minute later, the other nipple waves in the open air with a happy jiggle of her massive tit. Don Corronado steps back and watches with juicy satisfaction as droplets of warm sweat leak out of the two holes in the suit and drip down under Diana’s breasts. They slowly make their way onto the surface enclosing her ribs. The dewy drops then continue their long, slow journey down Wonder Woman’s beautiful body, joined by parallel companions from her other nipple hole as the sweaty, lust-filled Amazon princess stands defenselessly in her shackles while Don Silvio Corronado watches his prize with bright eager eyes that memorize the scene before him. With a long delighted sigh, the exultant Mafioso captain breathes in the scene, treasuring this precious moment with his breathtakingly beautiful, panting, wriggling rubber-sheathed companion standing at his beck and call a mere three feet away.

“You must be very hot in all that tight rubber, Wonder Woman. Can I get you a drink?”

“By the gods, yes! Please!” Diana’s forehead shines with her sweat. Her ribs, belly and legs are all matted within the rubber with glistening pockets of dewy perspiration collecting at every tiny gap in the rubber. The rubber suit at her knees, ankles and her toes is all misty with condensation and her hair around her face is damp with sweat as well, creating thin black lines of dangling locks that drip onto her suit with frequent, soft little pits and pats as they land.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Funny.” Diana remarks without conviction. She then shouts at his back as he leaves the bedroom, “When you return, why don’t you bring back a man who knows how to use his penis on a beautiful woman!”

“Funny!” The retreating voice in the hallway responds. Diana just lowers her head, shakes the sweat out of her hair like a dog and rubs her ass against the wall to try to get any kind of sexual satisfaction she can under the spell of the Nympho Patch. She is crazed and mortified in equal measure at her own behavior. But she can’t fight the chemicals coursing within her and she knows it’s senseless to even try. She could try to exercise a little vocal restraint but her libido keeps sending out messages to her brain that her mouth can’t help but voice. It was all just so humiliating!

When Don Silvio returns, he carries a bottle of off-brand flavored electrolyte water.

“Open wide, Princess.” She does and he tips the bottle just enough for her to easily gulp the cold, refreshing liquid at her own pace. She downs half the bottle before pushing back against the plastic with her mouth to indicate her need to breathe.

“Don’t go anywhere with that yet,” Diana says, then takes a deep breath. “Okay,” she nods and Silvio tips the bottle again. The raven-haired beauty drinks the remainder of the 16-ounce bottle without pause. After Silvio crushes it and launches it into the corner wastebasket, Diana nods and says, “Thank you. Did you bring back my real man?”

“Oh, he’s around somewhere, Wonder Woman,” smiles the mafia don pleasantly, completely unfazed by her insult.

“But for now, let’s get you really hot and bothered.”
Turning and walking over to the bed, he reaches into a black plastic bag lying against the pink pillowcase and pulls out a large bottle of some kind. Examining the large round container with her hawk-like eyes, Diana reads the label.

Stim-U-Love! Flavored sensitivity oil for enhanced sexual pleasure. Artificial Cherry Flavor!

“Fantastic,” Diana snorts. “Real man in a bottle!”

The peeved don walks back over to his captive, shaking the bottle at her as he does.

“Let’s see how funny you think it is when your entire body is slick with this stuff and that patch is pumping out its potent cravings for cock, Wonder Whore!”

“Really? That’s your comeback? That’s what you’re going with?” Diana replies with incredulity. “Do all you guys get a handbook or something? Or is there some kind of website for pathetic losers on how to talk to women in bondage to make them cringe with fear? ‘Cause, I have to tell you, Silvio, you should ask for a refund on your membership fee. The lines just aren’t working.”

“You fucking cunt!” Silvio rears back and drives a short hard punch into Wonder Woman’s stomach.

“HUUNNFFF!” The Amazon beauty bends forward with a blasting grunt, her cheeks bulging, her eyes wide, her arms straining against the shackles. Diana hangs there for several moments trying to catch her breath with wheezing gasps while the raging don circles his fist before her and slowly gets control of himself. After thirty seconds, Diana lifts her head and looks straight into Don Corronado’s eyes. She mutters softly, “Better. More concise. To the point and smartly delivered with emphasis. A little cliched but overall, nice job.”

Once again Diana’s intelligence, wit and courage captures Don Silvio’s fancy and he laughs out loud. Then, chuckling frequently, he paces in a wide circle in front of the rubber-clad Amazon princess. “You really are quite the prize, Wonder Woman. I have to admit it! Looks. Brains. Pluck. You’ve got it all.”

“Yeah, well, we Themyscirans are all about the pluck thing,” Diana answers, straightening up as she regains her breath and full composure now. “So what now, you oil me down and we get it on?”

“Something like that. Shall we start with your cooze?”

“Traditional yet effective. You’re calling the shots, big guy. Do what you will.”

“I suggest you remember that, Princess.” Silvio kneels down before Wonder Woman and twists open the cap on the bottle.

“You make it pretty hard to forget it, Don Corronado.”


* * *


Carmine walks into the Top Hat Bar around 12:30 at night grumbling to himself with impatience. This was his tenth stop in this neighborhood and he was getting nowhere with this approach. Nobody had seen Supergirl, of course, but worse yet, nobody had seen anything that even smelled like a clue. And this seedy dive looked to be another likely dead end. Still, he approaches the bartender, a fat fuck with a nasty scar on his cheek. At the moment, there’s no one else in the joint. He gets ready to ask him a series of about six questions he’s got written down on piece of paper in his pocket but has fully memorized by now. But first, he starts off with a simple cordiality.

“Hey, what’s your name, buddy?” Carmine asks.

“Buddy will do.”

“Hit it right off on the first try, huh? Lucky me. Alright, listen up. I am not the law, cheeseball, so I don’t give a rat’s ass what probie officer you’re trying to dodge. Or is it alimony lawyers you skirtin’?”

“The second. You’re good at this.”

“Practice. Gimme a draft, would ya’,” Carmine says, settling on a bar stool.

“Light or Regular?”

“What is it?”

“Budweiser.”

“It’s all crap so it doesn’t fuckin’ matter if its regular or light,” Carmine frowns. “What do you have in bottles?”

“Sam Adams, Coors or Fosters.”

“I’ll take the Aussie. Now, perk up,” Carmine says to the bartender’s back as the fat man walks halfway down the bar, reaches down to a fridge and pulls out a bottle of Fosters. “I am deeply connected with influential people in this area and at this point in the evening I don’t have any sense of humor left so fucking pay attention and don’t get cute or you’ll be picking up your teeth off the floor of this puke palace. Got me?”

Returning with the bottle of beer, the fat man, unimpressed, pours half of it into the glass he places on the bar.
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Nice speech. You’re stressed and you’re passin’ it down the line. So what do you want to know?”

“I got just a few questions and if you got the right answers and they test out okay, there’s good money available to make your life easier for a week or so.” Carmine takes a big gulp of his brew and looks steadily at the bartender.

“How much is good money?” The bar keep’s voice goes up. He could use the extra cash.

“Depending on the answer, up to a grand. Maybe more if your information is gold and leads me exactly to what I need.”

“Shoot.” The bartender swipes the bar with a damp, dirty, threadbare towel.

“Let’s go from the top again. What’s your real name?”

“Edgar. You need a last name?”

“Nope. So Edgar, anything out of the ordinary happen over the last couple ‘a days?”

“Like what?” The bartender shrugs.

“Like shit that doesn’t usually pass for normal in this rat hole. Anything at all that raises an eyebrow.”

“Can’t think of anything big, off hand.”

“Mmm hmm. You’re not getting any closer to the big payoff, Edgar. How about anything small. A comment from someone, a strange face, a new look on an old face. Anything like that?”

“Jimmy ‘Target’ was in earlier selling shit under the table like usual.”

“Yeah, and...?”

“Well, his buyers were locals I’ve seen around. Don’t know their names, though.”

“You’re putting me to sleep, Edgar. What’s your point?” Carmine asks impatiently. He was tired.

“Well, the buyers don’t usually buy. That’s all. And one of ‘em seemed jazzed about something. Joey shouted out something strange, too, when they left. Like ‘Tell Chelsea hello.” And the buyer stops turns around, flashes a big smile and says, ‘I’ll do that.’”

“That’s your big tip? What the fuck does it all mean?” Carmine scowls. This didn’t sound like anything important. But who the fuck knew?

“Well, Joey comes up and orders a scotch. That’s what really got my attention. Joey ‘Target’ is not a big spender. So I figured the buyers met his price. Also unusual from the way Joey was acting. It was all centered around this girl I thought. This Chelsea broad. You’ll have to talk to Joey but after he sold and had his drink, he left. Don’t know when he’ll be back. And I don’t know where he lives or if he even drinks anywhere else. He don’t talk so much. Just deals at that table back there and feeds me a five every now and then to keep me from rousting his ass. Sometimes he doesn’t come in for days. But like I said the unusual part was Joey buying a stiff drink with cash and those deadbeat locals meeting his price. Other than that, nothin’ else comes to mind that’s different.”

“Hmmm.” Carmine sits there sipping his beer quietly. After a moment, he asks Edgar another question. “And you don’t know where these locals live?”

“Nope. Joey might. I’m not sure ‘bout that though.”

“Okay, Edgar. Thanks. Oh, one more thing. What does this Joey ‘Target’ push? Horse? Pills? Grass? What?”

“Joey. He only sells one item ‘cause he uses it and selling it cuts his cost for his own habit.”

“And that item would be what, Edgar?”

“Crack. Joey only sells crack.”

“Really? And you think these buyers had a girl, a Chelsea?”

“It’s possible. Who knows.”

Carmine pulls out a business card with simply his name and cell phone number on it. He puts it on the bar, takes out his wallet and drops a fifty on top of the card. He pushes the two items over toward the fat bartender.

“That’s for good faith. And, Edgar, the second that Joey Target shows up, you call that number. If things play out, you’ll get your grand. Any time of day or night, you call. Got me?”

“Absolutely....Carmine,” the large bartender says. “Day or night. Don’t suppose you want to tell me what this is all about.”

“Healthier for you not to know,” Carmine actually smiles as he says this, but there’s not a lot of heart behind it.

“Right. I figured.”

Carmine finishes his beer and stands up. Before he goes, he looks at Edgar’s face and the prominent scar cutting across his cheek. “Let me guess. The scar is a gift from your ex-wife.”

“You really are good at this.”

“Edgar. If your info’s good. You’ll not only get your grand, but I will personally see to it that the alimony lawyers your ex is siccing on you will stop harassing you for good. One way or another.”

“Really?”

“Promise.”

“Well, thanks, Carmine. I see Joey, I’ll call first thing.”

“Do it or it could be your very last thing,” Carmine walks out of the Top Hat with a real smile for the first time all day.

Taking up the empty glass and wiping the bar where Carmine sat, Edgar looks at the door as it closes behind the big mobster.

“What a swell guy.” His sarcasm is as dark as the dimly lit barroom. Still, he flicks the card thoughtfully against his knuckles before he stuffs it into his shirt pocket.


* * *


Wonder Woman is sweating heavily as she leans forward as far as possible within her shackles so her pussy is flat against the heel of Don Corronado’s palm as it slides up and down between the moaning Amazon’s thighs.

“Harder. Rub harder, Silvio. No, harder than that!” Diana pleads with her captor. “The rubber is blocking a lot of the sensation of your hand against my vagina.” The crotch flap of the rubber catsuit has been resealed and the inside of the entire suit is now coated with a film of sensitizing lubricating oil. Half a bottle of the stuff has been poured down into the neck of the sealed suit and by now it has cascaded in thick flowing streams all over the flawless body of the securely restrained Amazon champion.

Thanks to the broad sweeping massage strokes provided by Silvio over the entire surface of Wonder Woman’s luscious figure, followed up by the mob boss’ precise attention to every nook and cranny of the beautiful champion’s flesh, no spot on Diana’s body is left untreated by the tingling oil. In fact, the room is heavily scented with the cloyingly sweet smell of cherries from the flavoring added to the solution. As promised, the famous Champion of All Women is caught in a deeply disorienting sexual frenzy from the oil and the constant caressing of every inch of her sensitized skin. She is writhing and bending and moaning with desperate sexual frustration as the heat from the squeaking rubber suit activates the sensitizing capability of the oil over every square inch of Wonder Woman’s slippery figure.

Even now, the beautiful Amazon champion continues to shamelessly whine and beg for Silvio’s firmer attention to her needs.

“Ohhhhh.....harder still. I can’t feel your palm like I need. Really plow it in there, Silvio. Give it all you have!”
Don Corronado actually eases up with his hand, smiling as he sees Wonder Woman frown, her wide-eyed expression of sexual hunger dimmed to sullen dismay as he withdraws the rubbing pleasure she so desperately craves. He’s been manipulating the Amazon for the past 30 minutes with varying teasing pleasures that have lifted her to sensual heights of panting delight only to stop them the instant he senses her spilling into eye-rolling rapture. Stripped down to just his blue plaid boxer shorts, the delighted mafia don had been most recently groping and hugging Wonder Woman’s slippery body tightly against his own. Aggressively pressing his bare chest against her own large slippery tits, he had purposefully pulled his rigid penis poke out of the fly of his boxers and slid it between her rubber encased thighs so the mighty champion could feel the distant heat of it against her throbbing, frustrated snatch. So near yet so far, the penis was a prize unwon that made the Amazon gnash her teeth in frustration at her bondage. Diana’s thoughts had centered on how she would take this man’s hard body and wrap herself around his fine physique with an Amazon’s unbreakable wrestling hold if she only could!

At other times over the past half hour, Silvio had fondled Wonder Woman’s breasts, rolling his hands over the large slippery spheres with strong powerful strokes at one time and treating her areolas like racetracks at others, circling their perimeters with unrelenting passes even as his hot mouth sucked and nibbled at her exposed nipples to draw yelps of pleasure and groans of yawning desire from the raven-haired beauty as the brown nubs held firmly in his mouth sent shivers of pleasure through the defenseless heroine’s body..

When he first started Diana off on her roller coaster of lust, Don Corronado had kneeled between her legs and licked teasingly at her clitoris for a good five minutes without pause. Occasionally he would dapple a bead of the cherry sensitizing oil against her pink nub and circle his finger around the outside of Wonder Woman’s clit until he spread the tingling sheen of oil all over and around the distended fleshy knob in a way that had Diana’s hips circling and jerking in delighted bucking movements as her very breath was stolen away. But he never brought her near to an orgasm, always licking the oily residue from the clit before it could linger long enough to send her over the edge into satisfied ecstasy. He was very careful about controlling her sensual overload, studiously pulling back each and every time before the wave crested and broke over her consciousness.

As a result, Wonder Woman was now begging for Silvio to allow her the full releasing orgasm she so desperately needed. Her pussy literally drips with desire at this point, although it’s difficult to tell with all the sweat, oil and lubrication draining through the creases and folds of the over-stimulated Amazon’s snatch. The very heat of her lust fogs the rubber covering her vagina like the cloudy mist lingering against the dewy ferns on a sweltering jungle floor.

All the oil that has leaked out through the nipple holes has been spread liberally over the outside of the slippery catsuit as well by the don’s earnest attentions throughout this endless session. So whenever Don Silvio goes in for a clutching hug, his hard body slides firmly against Diana’s warm figure with silky grace. And as he holds her in place and rubs his own warm, naked skin against the slick rubber suit, it excites Wonder Woman’s libido even further in ways that cloud her judgment and flood her mind with lustful primal thoughts of hard thrusting pricks entering deep wet vaginas. With every pass of his palm over the curve of her wide greasy ass, every caress across the slippery slopes of her bouncing breasts or every sliding pass into the pulsing canyon of her trembling crotch, the famous Champion of All Women succumbs to her lusts with loud throaty moans of wanton joy at the very touch of a man’s hand. Wonder Woman is creaming herself at the very thought of Silvio’s prick even brushing against her. She has become a delirious, desperate cock-craving slut of pure opportunity now No act is too base for her to perform. No request too sick for her not to fulfill for the promise of an orgasm.

Don Corronado hasn’t realized it yet but his every command to the strikingly lovely Amazon has been followed to the letter. She has kissed his mouth with long, lingering soul kisses. She has rubbed her leg against his own in a demeaning humping maneuver with her hips rolling and dipping as far as her shackles would allow. She eagerly kissed and licked slowly along the side of his neck with quick flicking licks and slow wide passes of her warm pink tongue until he shivered with delight. And, of course, with her new appreciation of the joys of blowjobs, Diana more than willingly bent over low as she could and took the don’s generous cock in her mouth and sucked him off until his cock gleamed in the bedroom lights. He had to pull out before she could finish him off, wanting to use his cock within her treasured cooze rather than blowing his nut in her mouth.

Silvio thinks her immediate compliance is based on her need for sexual release and her instructions from Sergei that have compelled her unhesitating response to his orders. What he doesn’t know is that the fact that he’s the male who chained her now gives him complete control of her actions. She is at the very beck and call of Amazon forces that he does not understand. Nevertheless, her immediate obedience to his every whim thrills him to no end.

“Tell me how much you want me inside you, Princess. And be as lewdly graphic as you can imagine,” he directs her.

Torn within by her aching need to obey and her utter shame at what he demands, Wonder Woman groans in anguish as she tries to fight for control of her body and her mind. The oil, her libido and her shackles override her modesty and her Amazon will completely, of course.

“I crave the heat of your mighty sword, Don Corronado. It would please me to no end to have you impale me with its formidable length until I scream for mercy.”

“Not bad. I like the attitude but let me hear fewer euphemisms and more plainly crude language that anyone can understand.”

“I would cum like a screaming banshee if you would fiercely plow my hot, wet cunt with your huge fuck rod, Don Silvio.”

“And how would that make you feel, Wonder Woman?”

“My lust would be dripping out between my thighs for all to see. My eyes would beg to see only your cock. My lips to surround it. My soul to cherish the very touch of your penis against my wet, eager pussy.”

Am I really saying these blasphemies? I am a harlot of the first order now!

“What else can you tell me, Wonder Woman, that you want from me right now?”

“If you release my legs and lift me up, I would thrust my cunt over the length of your prick and wrap my legs around your waist and hump you until we both came in a flush of helpless, mindless ecstasy, Don Corronado. My only wish is that you will let it happen!”

My absolute shame is now complete. I will die with these words carved into my tombstone. I know it!

“Sounds like a plan to me, Wonder Woman,” replies Don Corronado with a wide beaming smile. “Let me just get you a little more worked up and we will make happen what you so clearly desire. Your ultimate fantasy of penetration is about to begin. You will give yourself to me.”

“It is my only purpose as a woman, Don Silvio. I am a wet, sloshing tunnel awaiting your powerful, driving shaft. Make me your Amazon slave at last. I’m begging you! Tease me no more!”

Don Corronado has heard all he needs to hear. Wonder Woman was begging him to fuck her. His own lusts are about to overwhelm him. There is no longer any need to wait, to tease or delay his triumph now.

“I’m going to release your legs so you can be fucked as you requested. You will not try to escape or hurt me in any way, Wonder Woman. You got that?”

A direct order! Damn him! Damn him to Hades for all eternity.

“No escape attempt. I understand.” She will be fucked by him at last and that is something she lives for right at this moment. She was hoping to escape right afterward, Sergei be damned. But that wouldn’t be happening now. Unless she could make him unshackle her arms as well, Then she would not be bound by Amazon physical laws. Is it too much to hope for? To try to talk him into unlocking her arm shackles?

“Good!” Silvio says. Kneeling down, the mob hood presses a button on the back inside edge of the leg shackle and it releases easily with a click and a clink of metal as it falls away from her ankle. The second shackle releases just as easily seconds later.

Quickly pulling open the seal, Don Corronado undoes the crotch flap of Wonder Woman’s tight rubber catsuit. A rushing stream of sweat and oil spills out of the crotch of the domination suit and onto the carpet, soaking it with a sickly sweet cherry smell along with the underlying scent of lusty Amazonian pheromones.

Don Corronado puts his fingers down to Diana’s warm wet pussy and strokes around the edges with light tickling circles.

“NO! STOP IT. DON’T DO THAT ANYMORE. I’M READY! JUST PUT YOUR DAMN PRICK INTO MY VAGINA ONCE AND FOR ALL. RIGHT NOW, SILVIO. THIS INSTANT. FUCK ME! OKAY? FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!”

Diana is screaming in total frustration, right in the grinning don’s face. He slips his palms under her knees without another word and hoists them up in the air. Diana gets a look of wild anticipation as she watches the hard, erect cock hone in on her pussy like a guided missile. With a hard, fast thrust of his hips, Don Corronado penis drives deeply into Diana’s swollen snatch at long last! She grunts with pleasure as the full length of him fills her vagina with a width and a heat she never thought would finally arrive. With eager, lusty joy, she wraps her legs around Don Silvio’s waist and grips him as tightly as possible with her slippery rubber-sheathed thighs.

“YES! YES! MINE AT LAST! A MAN’S COCK BURIED IN ME AT LAST! I AM IN THE HALCYON HALLS OF OLYMPUS AT LAST,” Wonder Woman crows.

“And probably the first whore to be permitted entrance, I’d bet,” Don Corronado says with nasty coldness.

“I don’t care. I really don’t. The Nympho Patch has destroyed my morals. I could not fight its power,” Diana admits. Her legs grip around the don’s trim waist as the Amazon princess luxuriates in the feel of his long, hard penis within her tight loins at last. She begins humping him in earnest, rocking her hips and taking him deeply within her, then releasing, then capturing him again. She savors the penetration, the heat, the fulfilling wonder of this man’s rigid cock. The delighted Silvio barely has to work his prick at all. He just keeps it still for the moment as Wonder Woman rocks her hips against him. Her warm wet snatch encompasses his prick with a tight eager pulsing that makes him as hard as he’s ever been. His hands have moved down to her ass now, supporting her weight better so she can rock and hump him with even greater fervor.

“If only I could wrap my arms around your neck and mount you completely, I would be the happiest woman on earth,” she murmurs softly, hoping against hope that he, too, would want this and in so doing would release her from her Amazonian curse of obedience to his shackling.

“That’s not going to happen, Wonder Woman. Yet again, you fail to realize this isn’t about what you need but what I want to let happen. But enough of that; are you satisfied with my penis in your twat? Is it all you hoped?

“It will be once I bring us to fulfillment. You do want that, don’t you?”

“Of course. Fuck away, Wonder Woman. My cock is yours!”

And the world-famous feminist heroine begins to move her wide hips against Don Corronado with frantic, rapid jerks. With her arms spread wide, shackled securely to the wall, the face of the Amazon beauty is harshly drawn with fierce determination now. Her head is lowered and she looks through her sweaty strands of hair at Don Corronado with nothing less that wild, untamed feline lust. She is a jungle cat in heat. Her sole mission in life to feel the thrill of this rigid fleshy tool filling her heavenly cavity. It is a physiological imperative! Again and again she rocks her hips against his loins, filling her snatch with the hot cock she’s been so desperate to feel for more than an hour now.

The Nympho Patch has done its work. I am its prisoner.

“You would not have…uhhhnn… been able to take me….ohhh….without the patch, Don Silvio,” she grunts with obvious joy. “You know that…uhhh…. right?”

“Your resistance was paper thin, Wonder Woman. Now be quiet and just fuck me until my seed fills your snatch, whore!”

Hera help me! Another direct order!

It wasn’t like she wouldn’t be fucking him until she and he reached an orgasm but to be compelled to do so drew some of her pleasure away from her overwhelming excitement. But the passing despair at being commanded to perform to his tune is quickly lost as the heat of her passions fills her brain. She pumps her hips with pure machine-like efficiency now, lost in the need for friction within. She is close, very close. And so is he. His sweaty face bows close to hers as he cradles her pumping ass. Diana’s hot sweaty crotch bumps up and down against his own. His breath is raw and ragged as the famous Amazon warrior grips his hips with her locked legs and slowly captures his lust in the tight confines of her rapidly sliding snatch. Silvio, too, is nearly lost in the absolute passion of the moment. He is on the threshold of his climax. Only one thing is left to accomplish.

“Anyway, Wonder Woman,” he pants happily, his bright gleaming brown irises boring into her feverish, half-lidded blue ones, “that Nympho Patch was counteracted….ohhhhhh….about two minutes after I gave you that bargain-basement sport drink.”

“….duhn’t….b’lieve….you…” Diana breathes the words out harshly even as she continues to rock her pelvis in response to the command of her leering male captor.

“It’s true. And I don’t give a fuck….ahhh!...if you believe me or not. You’ve been a helpless, sex-crazed cunt based….ohhhh….on nothing but your own overdeveloped libido and some cheap drugstore sex grease, Wonder Woman!. What do you…yeeeeaaaghhh!...think of THAT?”

Diana actually stops pumping her hips as this ugly truth blasts through her soul. “Th…that….can’t…be…true….” She cries out in stark horror. It couldn’t have been all just me and this bastard’s fingers doing this. Could it?

The crowning glory of Don Corronado’s triumph over Wonder Woman is the shocked stare of cold realization that her own desires have driven her to this nadir of the most whorish behavior she could ever imagine. He sees this lost broken look in the stunned Amazon’s eyes and takes delight in driving the final nail into the coffin that is burying her self-respect.

Quickly he begins pumping his own hips now as he takes over the role of sexual aggressor proudly. One that he only relinquished as a slight of hand in the emotional and physical devastation of Wonder Woman. Cradling her warm ass, Don Silvio Corronado begins to lustily finish off the famous raven-haired hero with absolute delight now. He looks deep into her eyes and sees the light of hope extinguished like a snuffed candle, only to be replaced by the glow of highly-aroused wanton female desire filling the face of the beautiful heroine. Her eyes are closed in mindless rapture and her lips are parted with carnal lust as the large, hot shaft completes its mission.

Wonder Woman’s lips curl with a lewd groan of the basest need in the universe, the indefatigable force of procreation. Wonder Woman doesn’t want children. She just needs to complete the act that will produce them on occasion. She is lost in the pleasures of fulfilling her feminine destiny. Her head bumps back against the wall as the world-famous Wonder Woman climaxes within the grip of her powerful, hip-thrusting captor. She screams in utter pleasure despite herself or because of herself. She’s too lost in the sensation to know. Her climax sends Silvio over the edge right behind her and the two of them are moaning and leaning against the wall, a frozen coupled statue of rapture as they both douse each other’s groin with wet, draining pleasure without end. Both of them complete in their mutual missions of absolute lust. The only sound in the room at the end is the panting of two humans who have discovered the deepest regions of their own souls. It has been a hell of a trip!
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

In A Bad Way

Part 42



The full moon of an early autumn night casts its pale light through the dirty windows and against the ragged shades of the beaten down South Bronx apartment that hides a helpless heroine from the world. The sound of raspy breathing from the sleeping blonde teenager is the only sound in the dimly lit room for now. Slumped forward on her knees in troubled sleep, the beautiful nineteen year old champion known as Supergirl is tied to the cold radiator with both arms stretched backwards behind her around the cold curves of the white painted metal. Her wrists are heavily circled with thin cotton cord that had been stripped out of the old plastic Venetian blinds and tied securely to the steam valve. In her mouth is the sweat-sock gag held in place by the duct tape from earlier on.

In the cold light, the half-toppled teen’s head seeps with a dark liquid that runs slowly through her matted hair and drips onto the shoulders of her costume blouse. The blow from a flashlight has broken the skin at the back of her head and drawn blood. It has also jarred loose a fair share of jumbled memories that spin through Supergirl’s dreams with a kaleidoscopic frenzy of confusion and frustration. The Maid of Steel murmurs uneasily as her brain struggles to feed her lost information through the red fog of her kryptonite poisoning.

Her arms behind her strain futilely in cramped discomfort, reflecting a lost moment from her life when she’d been tied to a chair with her arms similarly restrained and a cord pulled tight around her throat. This image is projected into her dream. Subconsciously, the troubled teen wheezes for air and settles lower, relaxing slightly as her body is reassured by the breath it has surprisingly been allowed. From nowhere, a reassuring hand from a dark-haired friend reaches through to her in this dream. “Rest easy, Kara,” says a voice. “You shall survive this.” And the lilting laughter of the woman in red and blue, the owner of the voice, is a calming joy in her heart. Her head nods as she breathes easier still. And then she feels a wetness between her legs. That and the image of a strange gun in her face spouting green slime that cakes her eyes shut and fills her underpants at the same time somehow causes a hard shudder that draws the sleeping blonde from the depths of her disturbing dream state. Slowly she opens her eyes, shaking her head to try to clear it. This makes her woozy, sparks a painful headache and draws a low moan out of the blonde’s dry lips.

“..Hhhrrruummff....”

From one of the bedrooms, the sound of squeaking bedsprings announces the movement of another body wrested out of sleep. There is a fumbling and a click and a sliver of light reaches out from under the door ten feet away. The additional light fills the shadows in Supergirl’s face with a soft pale yellow glow. She looks drawn and confused. Slightly more awake, the young blonde feels her stomach cramp severely and she tilts forward as far as her bonds allow and groans even louder and longer than before.

“..Uuuhhhhhnnn.....errrrhhhhh...” Her damp gag muffles the pained groaning of the teen heroine. There is something wrong here. Terribly wrong. She feels her body helplessly releasing liquid from between her thighs. It’s a bit of a relief in pressure but it doesn’t make her feel good.

The bedroom door opens and Luiz pads out in bare feet toward the slumped over blonde with an angry scowl. “Shut the fuck up you noisy bitch. It’s three in the morning. And who the fuck tied you up like this? You legs gotta be cramping something awful in that position. I’m guessing Paul came out and here and had some fun with...What the fuck is that? Why’s the floor wet? Did you piss yourself, bitch?” Looking down he sees the gag in the minimal light and tugs the used duct tape off without much effort, then pulls out the white sweat sock. “Answer me, blondie. Why’d you piss on my floor?”

“Help me, Luiz,” whispers the blonde plaintively. “I feel really sick.”

Reaching over to a nearby table lamp, Luiz turns the knob under the lampshade. The sudden cone of light glares harshly in the darkened room and both Luiz and Supergirl squint with annoyed reluctance at the hard illumination. And Luiz’s mouth drops open in shock as he sees a bloody red pool flowing out from between Supergirl’s thighs.

“Holy fuck! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Supergirl’s eyes focus and she too sees the broad pool of blood that is seeping out of her vagina, staining her panties a deep dark red and scaring the shit out of the gasping blonde.

“Oh, Rao! What’s happened to me? What did you do?” She whispers in dark horror, her wide blue eyes dart accusingly to Luiz’s terrified brown ones.

“Me? I didn’t do shit, girlie! Looks like you’re having you’re period right on my floor, Supergirl. Jesus, didn’t you know it was your time of the month? Don’t you chicks know to get pads and shit for this when it’s close?”

“I don’t...I don’t think this is that! I...ooh.....owwww....god...this...this...looks...like...” She eyes a particularly dark clot on the floor nearby. “I..mean..I think..I...am..uh..was..pregnant. This...is...I...think... I.....just.... had a miscarriage...”

“What?”

“Ohhh!” A secondary swell of blood flows out from the gap in Supergirl’s underwear at her inner thigh and she bends as low as the ropes allow as her cramps steal her breath away with another moan. The blonde teen’s face is as pale as the window shades glowing with the moonlight.

“Fuck me. I can’t believe this. What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Luiz throws his hands in the air angrily. Glancing around the room for anything he might use to stop the flow of blood, all Luiz sees is a dented flashlight beside the lamp base, an old throw pillow on the couch and a tennis trophy on the couch end table, none of which will do a thing. The dented flashlight is new to the decor.

“...owwww....untie me,” Supergirl begs with a groan. “Please, Luiz. Let me get to the bathroom. I feel more cramps coming. Please....”

In less than one minute, Supergirl’s wrists are freed and Luiz has guided her to the toilet. She sits there hunched over clutching her stomach and groaning while Luiz stands outside the closed bathroom door and leans in to talk softly to the anguished young woman. Supergirl is weeping and sniffling between groans. She is a maelstrom of emotions as she expels what she feels are every inch of her insides into the bowl beneath her. She is relieved that she would not be carrying what she somehow knows must be a child of rape. She is despondent over the horrific loss of a living being inside her. She is frightened that she didn’t have any super powers to heal quickly enough in what could be a life-threatening situation, and she’s bewildered as to how she came to be in this condition in the first place. With no memory of who she was, where she belonged, what she would do from here on out, scared out of her wits after the horrible anal abuse and painful clubbing by Paul, the overwhelmed heroine, woozy from loss of blood and dizzy from a mild concussion helplessly vomits on the floor as she is doubled over on the toilet.

“Jesus Christ, did you just puke in there, too?” The voice through the door sounds dismayed and angry and frightened in equal measure.

“...uhhhh....yeah...” Supergirl responds. “..s..sorry.”

“Hey. Do you need a hospital?”

“Don’t know. My whole body hurts. Paul raped me in...in the behind. Then he hit me in the head and now I feel dizzy. I think I’m done in here. I...i...need to lie down, I...i...think...”

“You done puking?” Luiz cocks his head and listens for the sounds of ralphing. All he hears is whimpering and sighing.

“Think so.”

“You better know so before you get out of there, girl. I’m telling you right now that Paul is cleaning that bathroom out and the floor by the radiator. I’m sure as fuck not going to do it!”

“Gonna try to stand up now,” Supergirl announces weakly.

“Yeah, well, take it easy. If you feel nauseous, lean over the sink or sumthin’, would ya?”

“..uh.huh....”

“You want me to come in there?” The sound of the flushing toilet issues from behind the door.

After a moment’s silence Luiz hears, “Not yet...I..don’t..feel so..Rhuulgkk...Wrrghkk..” There is the sound of gagging and the splash of water into water. After a moment’s silence in which Luiz shakes his head and thinks how he’s got to ditch this blonde now before she keels over and dies on him. Fun is fun but this girl was starting to be more trouble than she’s worth now. Super fuck or not.

“...puked again...” the weak voice admits from behind the door.

“Yeah I heard,” Luiz responds glumly.

“But I....i...got it in the toilet this time.”

“Whoop dee fuckin’ doo!”

“What’s goin’ on?” Paul is standing behind Luiz wearing only a pair of green NY Jets boxer shorts. For such a large man, he can be very stealthy. Luiz jerks in surprise and turns to see his huge roommate looking down at him.

“What’s going on, Paul? Oh not much,” Luiz sneers with a jolting burst of sarcasm. “You apparently clocked our blonde friend in there so hard you gave her a concussion so she’s puking all over the place. Oh and she bloodied the floor by the radiator when she had a little miscarriage just now. Just another day in paradise.”

“You blaming all this on me?”

“Fuck yeah I’m blaming you, you giant oaf. You don’t know your own strength. If this bitch dies, what the fuck are we supposed to do? We’re looking at Murder One and I ain’t taking the heat for that.”

“Calm the fuck down, Luiz. Nobody’s dying here. A concussion ain’t gonna kill her.”

“You don’t that for sure, Paul. Don’t go taking the high road on this. You fucked her ass and then you fucked her up. We got to get this place cleaned up spotless and get her out of here.”

“And where we supposed to take her and in what. We don’t have a car. We just gonna walk her outside and give her bus fare? You don’t think she’ll attract attention?”

“I don’t know. But we got to think of something.”

Just then the door opens and Supergirl glances out. She sees Paul, flinches badly and shuts the bathroom door with a hasty bang.

“Get him away from the door, Luiz. Please. He scares me. I need to lie down now. I need to sleep. I’m dead tired. I don’t feel well at all.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t sleep right now, Supergirl. Maybe it’s not safe with a concussion.”

“...don’t know...I’m just too tired to care...get him away from the door. Where can I sleep? Couch? Bed. Not the floor. Please....” Supergirl begins to whimper loudly through the door again, her blubbering gaining strength as all her emotional reserves have been drawn down to nothing.

“Alright, just calm down, blondie. We’ll clean you up and get you settled in my bed.”

“...(sob)...th...th..thank....you...” Small. Girlish. Quiet and forlorn.

“Go back to your room, Paul, would ya?” Luiz cajoles him but with respect.

“I gotta use the john.”

“Well you’ll just have to fuckin’ hold your water til I get her cleaned up and in my room. In the meantime, you can clean up the floor over there of her blood. There are sponges under the kitchen sink. And after she’s in my room, she puked on the floor in the bathroom, so you can clean that up, too!”

“When the fuck did I become the goddam maid around here?”

“When you started swinging flashlights around like billy clubs. That’s when, genius!”

“What makes you think I caused her fuckin’ miscarriage that I have to clean it up?” Paul looks petulantly at Luiz.

“What makes you think you fuckin’ her in the ass with that monstrosity of a cock and then beatin’ the crap out of her with a flashlight didn’t cause it, Einstein?”

“I’m just saying it ain’t a sure thing.”

“You telling me you won’t clean it up?”

“No. I’m just saying...Fuck it. Hurry up and get her in your room. This piss won’t wait forever.”

“Wuz’ all the racket out there?” Rico shouts from the room he shares with Paul.

“Go back to sleep, Rico,” both men shout simultaneously.

“Alright. Alright. I’m just askin’ is all.” The sound of Rico punching his pillow is followed a mere moment later by his raucous snoring. A man with a clear conscience has no trouble sleeping. Neither does one who’s downed a pint of vodka celebrating the fucking of Supergirl.

Paul stomps off toward the kitchen to get the sponges and paper towels and a bucket. With the sound of his heavy footsteps, Supergirl slowly opens the door a crack and peeks out.

“He gone?”

“He hasn’t left the apartment, but he won’t bother you again tonight. I told him off,” Luiz looks at the drawn face and then down at the messy costume. “You want to clean yourself up a little?”

“I guess. I’m just so tired.” Supergirl opens the door wider and simply stands there slouched against the door frame, looking blank and confused.

“Turn around, let me take a look at your head.,” Luiz says with quiet authority. Supergirl turns, wavers slightly and settles into standing slouch. Gingerly touching the wound at the back of her head, Luiz feels the matted blood, the small gash and the sizable lump around it.

Supergirl hisses in pain. “I better sit down,” she mumbles and turns halfway around before plopping down unceremoniously on the closed toilet seat. Grabbing a small hand towel, Luiz runs the tap water until it’s hot as it gets and pulls the stopper to fill the sink halfway before turning off the spigot. Dipping the corner of the hand towel into the steaming water, he then places it over the wound on Supergirl’s head and dabs it as gently as possible with soft pats. More hissing from the blonde and some tiny tears as the corner of the towel is dipped back into the sink. Thin filaments of pink spread and circle within the clear pond of steaming water in the sink, shading the water a dull pink with her blood. Supergirl looks into the water with curious confusion which Luiz picks up on immediately.

“Guess you’re not used to seeing your own blood, huh?”

“I....don’t know. I guess not. But I can’t remember anything like this. It’s all so empty inside my head. Like all my memories leaked out of my cut like air out of a balloon. Aghh!. Easy please.”

“Sorry. I don’t want this to get infected.”

“Thank you. I....appreciate you intervening with...him.”

“Oh, he’s nothing but a big bully. You just have to know how to handle him.”

“No he’s not. He’s a vicious, dangerous maniac who should be put down like a rapid dog!” Supergirl’s eyes are piercing and tightly focused with venomous rage as she looks past Luiz to where Paul is kneeling, sopping up the red puddle by the radiator with a huge yellow sponge.

“Keep your voice down or we’ll have real trouble on our hands,” Luiz snaps with soft vehemence that draws her eyes to him and cows her slightly. “You’re in no position to start any fights right now, Supergirl.”

“Yes. You’re right. But if I had these so-called super powers you claim I do, I assure you, your friend would be in that Attica place before he could blink twice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Patting her head wound lightly one last time, Luiz says, “I should probably put a gauze bandage on this but all I have are Band Aids so that’ll have to do. Reaching into a drawer underneath the sink counter, Luiz pulls out a box of adhesive strips in assorted sizes and removes two of the largest ones. Stripping them out of their wrappers, Luiz carefully makes an X of the two strips on the counter and gingerly places the crossed strips over Supergirl’s head wound, pressing down around the wound and over the soft raised bump on her head.

“Aaaghh!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes.

“Can’t be helped. Thanks. I’d like to go to sleep now.”

“Take off your panties first.”

“S’cuse me?”

“They’re a mess and, frankly, they smell funky. You should wash the skirt, too. I’ll leave the room. They should be scrubbed before those stains set in.”

“What am I supposed to wear in the meantime?”

“Just wrap that towel around your waist while I dig up a pair of old pajama bottoms for you to wear. It’s no big deal.”

“Fine. Go get the pjs.”

When Luiz returns, he’s carrying a pair of soft gray running shorts.

“Couldn’t find any pajamas. These should do.”

Looking askance at the wardrobe choice, Supergirl shrugs. “Hope they fit,” she says.

“They’re from my high school years on the tennis team when I was thin as a rail. The elastic waistband’s still good. Should be fine. Try ‘em on. If they don’t fit, I’ll find something else.” He stands there quietly, just looking at her in her famous blue tunic with its “S” emblem spotted with puke. A threadbare yellow towel is wrapped around her waist. Beneath the towel, she’s wearing her shiny red boots. He’s caught up admiring her shape and not moving.

Putting her hand on here hip, Supergirl says, “I’m not changing in front of you, so forget it.”

“Oh, uh...sorry. Don’t know what I was thinking,” Luiz murmurs absently.

“I do,” she smiles weakly then gives him a push toward the door. “Now leave.”

“You should clean your top too. There’s vomit on it.”

Supergirl looks down at it and then turns and looks in the mirror. She is indeed a mess. Her hair is in total disarray. Her face is colorless and strained with tired blue eyes that have dark circled shades of gray beneath them. Her blouse is spotted with greenish clumps that almost make her want to retch all over again. She turns around and looks at him directly.

“I look awful!” She whines.

“Yeah, well, you have had a bad day,” he says with a shrug, not disagreeing with her assessment.

“The hell with it!” She blurts this out in anger. After all, she had given this guy a blow job in a foursome sex scrum only five hours ago, bled like a stuck pig on his floor and tossed her cookies not three feet from where she was standing. The time for false modesty seemed past, even for a superhero. She crosses her arms, grabs the hem of her famous costume tunic and pulls it up over her head in one quick movement, revealing her beautiful creamy white breasts in all their bouncing glory. If Luiz was transfixed before, he’s now grown roots into the tile floor at this view. This girl has the most beautiful set of tits he’s ever seen. In his entire life. In the entire life of his family, he thinks to himself, going back three generations to a tin shack in Puerto Rico. They were ample without being huge; soft fleshy mounds that had no regard for gravity whatsoever. Her luscious pink nipples are surrounded by flawless areolas. These breasts are the very picture of female beauty in its purest form.

Skewing her mouth with an ironic twist, Supergirl says with the resignation of every female who’s ever been ogled, “You can get me a t-shirt any time, big guy.” There are some memories that are hard wired in the genetic building blocks of the fairer sex no matter what radiation they’ve been exposed to.

“Huh? Oh...uh....yeah....right.” Backing out of the bathroom without turning to look where he’s going, Luiz backtracks all the way down the tiny hall until he gets to the door to his bedroom. Finally he shakes his head with a quiver and turns the doorknob and retreats into the room to find a top that will cover up ‘Heaven on earth’ as he thinks of those incredible ta-tas.

He returns with an old black Sex Pistols t-shirt from decades earlier. It’s clean at least. The door to the bathroom is closed so he knocks.

Opening the door a fraction, Supergirl’s hand snakes out through the crack and she murmurs, “Just pass me what you’ve got. I’m doing laundry and trying to fix what passes for a face.”

He put the soft cloth in the waiting feminine hand and it disappears back in its hole, the door bumping shut with a thump.

“Shit, Luiz, is she done in there yet or what? I really got to take a leak!” Paul is dumping a bucket of red water into the kitchen sink, the messy job at the radiator completed.

“Almost.”

“Tell her to move her gorgeous ass before I goose her with my prick to get it in gear.”

“Yeah, yeah. Settle down. And you got puke in the bathroom to clean up too, don’t forget.”

“Can’t clean it up if I can’t get in there, numb nuts.”

When Supergirl opens the door two minutes later, Luiz sees that the black t-shirt is filled out nicely by those miraculous breasts. The Sex Pistols never had a better advertisement than this in all their days as a premier Punk band. The gray running shorts do fit, accenting her figure nicely as he eyes the curve of her rear. Her hair has been arranged and smoothed down to a decent appearance. Her face has been washed and even without makeup and strained as she is, the blonde teenage champion is still beautiful to look at.

“Well, at least everything fits okay,” she says, dismissing the look of wonder in Luiz’s eyes with a self-deprecating wave of her wrist. Behind her, the red panties, skirt and blue blouse have been rinsed and are hanging over the shower rod. The boots have been removed and are standing at attention beside the tub. “Now can I please go to sleep.”

“Follow me,” Luiz says, leading her and her silent bare feet into his bedroom. Just as she enters behind him, Luiz calls out, “Bathroom’s free!”

“Fuckin’ finally!” Paul says dashing straight to it from the kitchen.

Alarmed, Supergirl quickly shuts the door as the big man clomps by in a rush.

Shuddering with a tremble of fear, the blonde beauty turns away from the door and sees a decent sized room. Yellowed, torn posters are tacked to the wall featuring rock bands from when vinyl albums were just disappearing from the shelves of record stores. A faded playboy foldout is taped up near the corner with beige masking tape. In the center of the room a thin, stained green blanket is spread over an old double bed with a wood headboard that’s missing one of its crowning wooden globes.

“You’ve done wonders with the place,” she cracks.

“You want the fucking couch with Paul roaming around out there with his prick at attention, you’re welcome to it, smartass!”

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “I’m just exhausted. Thank you for the bed.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t lied down on it.” He pulls the beige sheet down, revealing a triangle of comfort into which Supergirl eagerly crawls.

“It could be made of slate. At this point, I’m too tired to care,” she yawns.

Three minutes later, the exhausted blond is fast asleep while Luiz looks at her from his standing position over the bed.

“Fuck it!” He shrugs and climbs in bed with her. After five minutes he’s cuddled up behind her, spooning her and she’s dead to the world. He smiles broadly, enjoying the warmth of her body and getting hard against her. And then, tired, he slowly drifts off to sleep as well. His planned late night rendezvous of crack and sex have been postponed for caring and support. And he’s all right with that for now. As for the famous, mighty superheroine, she’s simply too exhausted to know or care about his smile, his contentedness or his boner.


* * *

“Thank you so much, Sergei. It was the fuck of a lifetime. I’ll never forget it.” Silvio is pumping the big Russian’s hand up and down rapidly, his face beaming, still a bit flushed from his evening with Wonder Woman.

“You are welcome, Don Corronado. Of course, you will receive a DVD copy of your time with the Amazon whore just before the series is to be released for sale to the general public. Security concerns prevent me from telling you at this time when that will be, I am sorry to be saying. But it will not be long I would be thinking.”

“That’s excellent. I had forgotten about that. I will treasure it for years to come, I’m sure. Will there be any chance for me to get another session with the marvelous creature in the future?”

“It is possible, Don Corronado, but there are so many who will be wanting such pleasures as you have enjoyed. The wait may be two years or more. But if I can be giving your name as a reference to future interested parties, I could be moving you up the waiting list a bit I think.

“Anytime. I’d be happy to do so.”

“If we print up brochures, your comment just now would be something for the cover page, I am seeing. ‘The Fuck of a Lifetime!’ It works well, yes?”

“Actually, it does. If you need anything at any time, call me or have your boss call me. I’m always happy to help out a fellow who treats me right.”

“Thank you, Don Corronado. I will be keeping you in mind. Goodnight.”

The ecstatic Mafia Don almost hops in the elevator when it arrives at the penthouse with a soft chime. As the outside door shuts and the inside doors slide closed, Sergei sees the Don rock on his heels and raise his eyebrows in boyish delight at the memorable night with the famous Wonder Woman.

Sergei turns after the cab heads down to the casino level and walks into the bedroom. As he enters, he sees Diana still hanging limply against the wall, her unconscious body sagging inertly in the grip of the powerful arm manacles. The rubber catsuit clings tightly to the naked heroine, sealing her in her own sweat. Running down inside Wonder Woman’s right thigh and down the leg into the rubber sheathing, Sergei sees a bright white trickle of cum. It is being fed from the source of the white stream, the dozing woman’s dripping pussy. The famous Champion of All Women had been thoroughly fucked over yet again. Her mind and body had been totally controlled, used, manipulated and debased at will by a smart, resourceful man.

Sergei smiles with delight at the slut’s humiliating disgrace at the hands of his client. He might even take a duplicate DVD of this session for himself. Silvio had completely demoralized the haughty bitch even as he’d taken her most precious treasure and filled it to overflowing with his manly essence. It had been perfect and would make an excellent conditioning tool when properly used to beat down any psychological resistance the pathetic tramp might try to mount.

Taking a syringe from a leather holder clipped to his belt, he holds it up to the light and checks the level of the pale yellow liquified heroin prepared within. This was the absolute finest ‘horse’ that Tony had in his supply. It came from his Turkish connections and was called ‘Istanbul Express’ because the high was so powerful, so fast in coming and so smooth in its effect. Sergei was told it was like having your head suddenly filled with a warm rushing current of briny water that buoyed the brain and pickled it with a glowing feeling of absolute joy and relaxation. It was so relaxing that you were fascinated with your own breathing, the air currents in the room and the feeling of warmth from the very heart of the earth itself. Perfect peace through a needle.

Of course, such a feeling would be wasted on the exhausted, sleeping beauty hanging before him. Any cheap street heroin would be enough to keep the Amazon dulled and docile for the next few hours. But the extra powerful effect this stuff would have on Wonder Woman’s addiction to heroin was much greater than what a normal street dose of “H” would provide. What would take a week or two of steady use with normal heroin to generate a serious addiction would only take three days at most of using Istanbul Express even as little as twice a day to hook into Wonder Woman’s psyche and her physiological systems. After that, even this world-famous, prideful Amazon princess would be easily commanded into performing the nastiest sex act so she could experience the erotic surge of euphoria that a hit of this enslaving concoction would provide.

Sergei squirts a tiny measure of the drug through the needle tip to clear any air bubbles and taps the outstretched arm of the fitfully slumbering champion to raise the bluish vein to easier prominence for injection. Too tired to wake, Wonder Woman only feels a pinching sensation in her arm as Sergei pushes the deadly brew into her vein, emptying the syringe barrel into the famous heroine with slow pleasure. Diana remains in her dangling, deep slumber as the heroin surges through her bloodstream until it reaches her brain.

“Uuuuhhhhnnnnnnn...” The raven-haired beauty’s head rolls slowly on her shoulders. Then her left eyelid gradually opens and she looks up at Sergei without recognition. Diana tries to focus on the blurry man’s face but her brain is filling with a gluey thickness that for some reason only allows the Amazon warrior to focus on the shiny silver medallion hanging around the big blonde man’s neck: a Russian sickle that glimmers and gleams in the light in a way that slices off Diana’s awareness of everything else in existence. Her head slumps to her chest and her mouth drops open in fat-tongued drooling bewilderment. Only her eyes, half-lidded and dulled, stay locked on the gleaming pendant.

“...pwettty....” she mumbles, her entire life force beaten down by this overwhelming drugged stupor into flat simple entrancement by sunlight on silver. And the dangling, hypnotic silver crescent moves closer and closer until Wonder Woman’s view is blocked by an arm that crosses before her eyes.

“Let’s get you into your bed, Princess,” Sergei says, unlocking each manacle with the touch of a magnetic key. Easily hoisting the drug-addled champion over his shoulder, the big Russian carries Wonder Woman over to the bed and pours her boneless figure off his shoulder so she is lying flat on her back, her wrists dangling off the side edges of the bed.

Fifteen minutes later, Wonder Woman is stripped of the rubber catsuit which is tossed over by the bedroom door in clear lump of damp, pungent latex. All four limbs of the completely naked Amazon warrior are secured to the bedposts with thin, virtually unbreakable titanium shackles.

After a quick, irresistible caress of Diana’s easily available jutting breast, Sergei shuts off the lights and leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him. It is 4:00 a.m. and Sergei wearily walks to the elevator to head down to his suite two floors below. He tosses the rubber catsuit into a hamper in the living room closet for the maid to clean. He’s got about four hours before he’s got to get up and face what he expects will be a long, hard day, especially if Supergirl doesn’t show up and they have to deal with Don Lupenzo going ballistic. Should be a memorable day, he thinks.


* * *


As the digital clock on the table by the bed clicks over to 5:30 a.m., Supergirl stirs in bed, her thoughts bleary in her half-sleep, half-waking consciousness. She’d been dreaming about standing naked in front of a television camera. She was reporting on the sudden disappearance of Supergirl from the streets of New York. For some reason her hair was brown, nicely coiffed and she had a microphone in her hand. Why would her hair be brown? Why would she be reporting on her own disappearance? And why would she be stark naked in front of what she dreamily recalled was a live television audience due to the fact that the station had broken into regular programming for this special report? The cameraman had just finished zooming in on her rock hard nipples jutting brazenly from the tips of her bare breasts. She remembered hearing the motor of the zoom in the dream. And then he’d panned down to her crotch. Her vagina had been stuffed with a dildo and she was leaking with pleasure even as the cameraman whispers, “Spread your legs a little, Linda. I want to get in tight on your pussy.”

As she wriggles in bed, murmuring softly in psychic confusion, the muddled blonde suddenly realizes that there actually is something filling her vagina. Something very big, very hard and very warm! Besides that, her breasts are being held firmly in someone’s hands. Blearily she recalls the name Luiz and then the incidents of the evening before. She’d crept off to his bed, exhausted after all the events of the previous day and night. Apparently Luiz had joined her somewhere along the way. And now he was holding her body close to his, enfolding her 5' 8" body within his slightly larger frame. She feels the cotton running shorts bunched around her thighs, pulled down in the early morning hours without her awareness or any protestation from her. His hands are up inside the t-shirt she’s wearing, his wide, sweaty palms pressing her nipples flat as his fingers dimple into the sides of her breasts.

The sensations are not at all unpleasant to the teenage heroine but the situation is not tolerable; certainly not something she wants to encourage in the least. She’s not this guy’s property and subconsciously or not, he’s certainly acting as if she were. Bringing her hands up into her t-shirt, Supergirl takes Luiz’s wrists and begins to pull them away from her body. Reacting instinctively in his deep sleep state, Luiz grips the breasts harder and, with unconscious awareness, senses the pleasure in his cock. He’s got a huge morning rod that pulses with warm blood. It’s a normal physiological attribute that virtually every male experiences on a regular basis. Usually though, it’s not within the pussy of one of the most desirable females on the planet. Being that this is the case with Luiz, however, he’s subconscious mind sees no reason not to take advantage of the situation. Luiz wriggles his hips with soft, bleary pleasure even under the influence of his still undisturbed sleep and his penis shifts and prods deeply within Supergirl’s heavenly cavity.

“Whaah!” Supergirl gasps with pleasure. That was a delightful surprise! Wrong in every way but wonderfully exciting. And now the hands are pulling her tighter and enclosing more firmly around her breasts. And the penis goes for a double stroke.

“Haah......aaahh!” Supergirl’s hips jerk in response, her eyes widening with alarm and excitement. Man that penis was fat and hard!

“Mmmmhhh,” a satisfied Luiz moans softly in his sleep as the warm friction jitters into his sleep-dulled brain. He instinctively snuggles closer, starting to come awake now, shimmying his penis back and forth and grinding the tip of it deep into the blonde teen’s body, pressing against her cervix.

“Ohhhhhmygod.....oh...god....thats...uhhhhnn!....damn.. you, Luiz...stop that!”

Luiz finally comes awake after Supergirl bucks her hips violently against his larger, encompassing physique. But for the Maid of Steel, her rough bucking motion only serves to impale her sensitized snatch with a harsh sliding cock back and forth within her vagina. This takes Supergirl’s breath away with a rushing wave of pleasure throughout her body. Huge quivers run along the entire length of her from her bare toes to her shivering fingertips. Disabled by her shuddering joy, the blonde beauty is unable to prevent Luiz from rolling her on to her stomach, pinning her to the bed and thrusting back and forth three times with his huge morning boner.

“Aieyahhh!” Distracted by a mighty surge of pleasure, and giving away at least thirty pounds to her now grinning wrestling opponent, the disadvantaged Maid of Steel is helplessly pinned to the mattress. She’s completely unable to dislodge Luiz from his powerful grip of lust. Having made matters worse and overexcited herself with her last effort to buck him off with a hard hip thrust, Supergirl is loathe to try that maneuver again. With her chin pressing into the soft pillow, the teen hero takes a deep breath within the cool air pocket to try to figure out her next move.

“Good morning, sunshine. It’s a great Sunday morning, ain’t it?” Three more fast strokes followed by a firm nipple squeeze jerk an open-mouthed gasp of delight from the deeply frustrated blonde. “There’s nothing better than morning sex, is there?” Luiz chatters glibly even as he gives his beautiful bed companion four more hard thrusts of his huge cock.

“Ohhh…..no.....too…much…” Supergirl bleats shrilly from inside the pillow, her body jingling with erotic sensations, her mind stunned into confused inaction by the pleasure coursing through it; jumping across neurons with giddy delight that makes the blonde wet between her legs.

Luiz loves this morning boner. It’s like the Perfect Storm of swirling blood, warm embracing pussy and incredible timing. He is enjoying the hell out of this maelstrom of sexual opportunity presented to him like a gift from the gods.

Seizing the moment, Luiz begins to rapidly pump away at the beautiful girl’s body beneath him, drawing out and thrusting in his overly-engorged tool with a singular purpose that has been proven through time immemorial to satiate the female into docile acceptance. And so it is with the famous Maid of Steel. Stripped of her powers and addled by overwhelming pleasure, she cannot fight the sensations subduing her resistance. She relents silently in her submissive position and accepts the inevitable conclusion with a throaty groan of delight. Luiz’s rocking form bumps back and forth against the blonde champion’s body, his balls bumping her groin with every deep and satisfying driving thrust.

“Hoh…hoh…. hoh…. hoh…. hoh…. hoh…. hoh….” The pitch of her delighted moans increases with every thrust as the teen champion is deeply satisfied with every building moment of this slippery, sliding, overwhelming battering ram of a cock. The couple’s heavy panting is perfectly matched in rhythm.

With her tits being fondled and tweaked, her vagina stretched and rubbed with unending, fantastic friction, Supergirl loses all her senses and shrieks with unbridled ecstasy as her orgasm sweeps through her like a hurricane.

“Yaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh….oooooohhh…..aaaiiiiiieeeeeeeehhhaa…..!” Her knuckles are white as she grips the sheet in absolute pleasure.

“Ohhh….uuuuuhhhhhhnnn…ah…ha…ha…ha…ha…!” Luiz’s jerky, fluttering laugh of total pleasurable release accompanies his own orgasm as he shoots a copious stream of hot spunk into Supergirl’s cavity. She feels the jetting cum and this triggers a secondary spasm of delight that swells into a shivering mini-orgasm of its own. The shuddering snatch jerks a spastic spurt of extra cum from the panting Puerto Rican who then settles down with a heavy sigh, pressing a lethargic Supergirl deeper into the mattress and her face far into the pillow.

“…eh….erfff…..” The muffled voice of the blonde teen barely makes it out of the soft prison of puffy comfort. The unheeding Luiz is finally jarred into complying by a flying elbow from the girl beneath him. Why didn’t I think of that before he fucked me?


With a wincing groan, Luiz rolls off the Maid of Steel and flops onto his back, sweaty and fulfilled. Supergirl lifts her head out of the depths of her crushed pillow and draws a huge gulp of air.

After ten seconds of fresh oxygen, Supergirl vents all her anger at the act she’d disturbingly relented to and her near asphyxiation. “God, you dumb prick,” she swears with startling venom. “You could have suffocated me!”

“…sorry…” he breathes, spent and listless.

And then the dragon snaps its long barbed tail into Supergirl’s brain without warning. Her system, energized by the sex, shouts its need to her and she poses the question without hesitation.

“Luiz, how about that second bowl of crack!”

“Yeah, sure. Why not.”

Only twelve minutes later, behind the closed bedroom door, a laughing, pawing Luiz and a giggling, sweaty Supergirl are both soaring on a on pretty damn good crack high courtesy of Joey ‘Target.’

The sex-stupefied blonde is on her back on the bed completely naked now with her ankles beside her ears as Luiz holds them in place and drives his cock in and out of Supergirl’s wet tight snatch with athletic fervor. Only minutes after that, the two of them are gasping and panting and draining their wet warm pleasure all over the beige sheets. One minute later, they’re back to spooning and sleeping deeply on the sweat-stained bed, oblivious to the world.


* * *


Back at the penthouse suite in the Pleasure Dome, Wonder Woman gets a 6:00 a.m. shot of Istanbul Express from Sergei. She sinks into her private oblivion with just the softest of moans. Right after Sergie does his customary fondling of her bobbling breasts and leaves, Diana savors the wide, spreading warmth she feel move across her body. Pathetically, the drugged Amazon champion is too out of it to even realize she’s just pissed the bed. She’s in a bad way now, a very bad way.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Big Trouble All Around
Part 43-A



Tony Bonano looks at his Rolex: 8:30 a.m. He takes an annoyed sip from the lukewarm mug of coffee and looks around the deserted coffee shop on the ground floor of The Pleasure Dome. The place wouldn’t open for business until 11:00 am. In the kitchen he heard the morning crew banging around getting the place set up for the 11:30 Sunday brunch in the main casino’s banquet room.

After letting out a long sigh, Tony takes another sip of the coffee he had brought down in the elevator from his suite upstairs. Wearing dark gray dress slacks, a powder blue shirt and a dark blue v-neck cable knit sweater, he was keeping away the early morning fall chill as best he could in the cool large room that had just had the heat turned on.

He was up on a fucking Sunday morning at this hour for a man that worked for him! Well, not technically. The guy was on the payroll but Uncle Sam would never know about it to tax him for it. A cool 90 grand a year no less. But that was the going rate for police captains in New York who kept Mob bosses like him in the loop on every important decision that City Hall would be making for the year, or that the captain himself would be forced into making by public pressure. Tony wasn’t sure what this meeting was about but Ryan O’Donnell had been adamant that Tony meet him this morning when he called late last night and Tony had suggested he come to the club. O’Donnell was the captain of the local Bronx station house several blocks away. The Pleasure Dome came under his jurisdiction and Tony was always sure to keep the Mick captain on a short leash when it came to knowing about things that might affect any of his money-making enterprises.

The quick staccato tap of a key on the glass front door alerts Tony that Ryan has arrived. After Tony lets him in, the tall, beefy Irish cop sits down heavily in a chair opposite Tony and tosses the front section of the New York Times on the small table where Tony has sat himself down and taken another sip of his coffee. If he’d been carrying the entire paper and tossed it, the whole table would have probably tipped over. The Sunday Times was a heavy load when the fall sales circulars started bulking up the paper with what was left of the Earth’s rainforests.

“Have you seen this?” O’Donnell asks. The folded thin front section had flapped open as it hit the table. The headline on the upper right hand column facing Tony reads: Supergirl Robbery Attempt Goes Awry at Bronx Bank. The accompanying color picture is one of Supergirl’s red cape in the middle of the floor bundled around a huge pile of booty on the floor of the bank. Tony nods glumly at the paper. The Gray Lady as the NY Times has been known for years was getting much more color these days and had seen fit to go with the dramatic red cape shot to help sell papers. He hadn’t seen the Times last night. It didn’t offer an evening edition. The New York Post anyway had made a much bigger splash, taking up the whole front page with huge type and a huge color photo of Supergirl flying out of the hole in the roof of the bank with the headline reading: S’GIRL: SMASH! CASH! DASH! Inside, a two-page spread had a sequence of photos, including the smashed bank vault door, the cape bundle and a close up of the getaway photo. There was also a sidebar story featuring the bank manager and her daughter’s heroics. It had been a real clusterfuck all right!

“I saw the Post’s late edition last night,” Tony replies, “but I got the gist of what happened. Plus it’s been all over the tube. But this can’t be what you wanted to see me about, can it, Captain O’Donnell?” The tone of superior to lackey was obvious.

“Why not?” The Bronx police captain gets his Irish up, annoyed at his friend’s attitude. He was a goddamn New York City Police Captain, by god! “The bank’s in your area and let’s not be kidding ourselves, Tony me boy, nobody hits that bank without your permission!”

“You think Supergirl came to me for permission to rob that bank?” Tony manages a very convincing laugh at this concept. “You give me way too much credit, O’Donnell.”

“Not her, you mook!” Tony had gone to high school with O’Donnell so they were on cordial terms, but Ryan was pressing it a bit since he was angry. “But that gang of bumblers who ran into that blonde buzz saw. We both know they wouldn’t a been there unless they got clearance through you, laddie.”

“That’s an interesting opinion,” Tony responds coolly, serious now.

“That’s what the FBI thought, too,” O’Donnell responds.

“Why are the feds involved with this?” Tony works hard at keeping his face neutral.

“It’s a bank, Tony. These days, it doesn’t take much to get the feds involved with a bank heist,” Ryan is calming down now, realizing that neither of them is well-served by a pissing contest between them. Both of them were at risk here. “And when you get a cape thrown in, even the National Security guys’ eyebrows go up, especially since that Wonder Woman lassie got snatched downtown at the park and that terrorist video came out. You couldn’t get near Gun Hill Road where the bank is with a ten-foot shillelagh before 8 o’clock last night, not before everybody had their dusting powder packed away and gone home.”

“So you think I knew those amateurs?” Tony looks O’Donnell directly in the eye.

“Fact is, Tony, yeah, but they can rot at Riker’s for all I give a shit. Especially since the money wasn’t actually taken. It’s the fact that they had kryptonite on ‘em that makes me and the feds interested. And that’s why I’m here, old friend. The feds want to do a joint raid with a team from my precinct on this place tomorrow night during Monday Night Football. A big take night for you, I know. Busy with everything from wagering to free-flowing liquor and maybe drugs around. They’re hoping to squeeze you for information and they’ll be carrying search warrants to look for Supergirl on the premises. The whole premises top to bottom.”

“Fuck me!” Tony is pissed and nervous at the same time.

“We got statements from the hostages, the bank manager, even her daughter about Supergirl talking about the mob connection. She dropped this whole ball of wax right in your lap, laddie. She didn’t say your name but the feds and my own guys can put two and two together. We had our suspicions all along but I was holding my own guys back until now because of our long friendship, Tony. But I can’t protect you from this kind of heat. I hope you’d be knowing that.”

“Yeah, I know it, Ryan,” Tony says as he looks off to the side, thinking ferociously about how to handle this wrinkle. He looks back toward the beefy Irishman who’s sitting across from him. “I certainly appreciate the heads up. But I swear to you on my mother’s grave, Ryan, Supergirl is not hiding in this building. I don’t have a clue where she is. Believe me.”

Looking closely at Tony’s face, the middle-aged cop nods firmly. “I do believe you, laddie. I just don’t believe you don’t know anything about this whole disappearance of her and her cousin. That’s got everybody stirred up more ‘an anything. The way Superman got taken out was real unnerving. Everybody’s tripping over their own bootlaces trying to get a clue that will lead to his return and that of Wonder Woman’s. They’re beating the bushes for that terrorist group but nobody’s got a sniff about that for a week now. If you know anything about that, you’d better set that to rights, too, Tony boy.”

“I hear you, you big Mick! Let me get going. I’ve got things I’ve got to attend to for this brunch today,” Tony lies smoothly. “Thanks for the heads up. There won’t be anything they’ll find on Monday, I assure you. No embarrassments for you either, Ryan. And I hope your boys will keep their billy clubs in their belts during the raid. There’s no reason to break up the place unnecessarily,” Tony adds hopefully.

“I’ll keep my guys on a short leash, but it can’t be spotless, Tony. The feds expect a certain show, don’t you know, and I’ll have to give them something they can feel decent about. And for sure I can’t be doing anything about how they’ll behave.”

“I hear that, too. Just do what you can. I’ll see you Monday night,” Tony answers as he unlocks the door to let the big Irishman out.

“Good day to you then, Tony.”


* * *


When Supergirl wakes up around 9:15 on Sunday morning she hears and feels a male body lying beside her. He’s snoring and weighing down the mattress to the point where she’s rolled up against him. Opening her eyes, she faces directly into Luiz’s chest. His arm is thrown over her shoulder and her arm is wedged between them. Her hand is …agghhh!..holding his dick! Again it is fat, it is hard and it is ready to go. Slowly, the blonde teenager unclasps her hand and ever so gently slides it out from under the warm prick. Luiz shifts and grumbles and then turns over, taking almost all the blankets with him. A naked Supergirl grabs the sheet and pulls it roughly away from the grumbling lummox so at least she is covered up.

Lying there, looking up at the cracked and peeling ceiling, Supergirl finally admits to herself that Luiz had been lying to her all along. She’d done crack twice now and there had been no feeling of incredible strength, no reaction of any kind beyond the thrill of the crack itself, of course. Crack didn’t have anything to do with her supposed super powers! In fact, she wasn’t convinced that she even had any powers. After what she’d been subjected to since she first met Luiz and his two cohorts, she felt like she’d never had them. But why would she have been wearing that red and blue costume if she weren’t some kind of super hero? Certainly nobody in their right mind would dress up in something like that! Maybe she wasn’t in her right mind. Maybe she had escaped from some kind of mental hospital. Considering how much sex she’d had either agreed to or been subjected to and subsequently enjoyed, she thought a case could be made that she was one of those nymphocraziacs or whatever they were called. She just didn’t have a clue about what to do. As she lies there, she comes to the only conclusion she can. I have to get out of here. These guys aren’t going to help me in the least and worse, they could hurt me or keep me prisoner. She starts to think about what she can do to get away when Luiz stirs against her.

“Uuhhh,” he gives a morning grunt meaning nothing. Then sits up. “Gotta take a leak.” He stands and leaves the room without another word.

And why would I care? Is that what couples do, announce their body functions to each other? I definitely have to get away from these guys!



* * *


At almost the same time, less than a mile away, Diana’s struggle to wake up after being heavily drugged with heroin over three hours ago is much harder than Supergirl’s. Her eyelids feel as if they’re glued together. Her body is cold, numb and seems disconnected from her brain. She can’t quite think straight yet. Even now she can’t even move her arms to try to get up. Slowly she finally pulls open her eyes to see her arms stretched out together and tied with rope to the right corner of the bed below the mattress somehow. Looking down the length of her nearly naked body, she sees her legs are still spread-eagled to both corners at the bottom of the bed. And then she feels the dildo that’s been forced into her vagina. It’s a big one that stretches her out pretty wide. Not painful but definitely all there and accounted for! Some sort of tight black rubber pants keep it securely plugged up between her thighs.

“Uuughhhnnnn.” Her long low moan elicits a noise from behind her, on the left side of the bed. She cranes her head around and sees Tony walking around the end of the bed.

“Good morning, Princess. I was just back there admiring your ass. It’s a real beauty. And its shape is so nicely defined by these form-fitting latex panties. So, how do we feel today?”

“Kould ent...be betteh, yuh nashty prick,” the dopey Amazon beauty slurs, angry and trying to focus after being inundated with a very potent drug all night long.

“Funny you should mention pricks. That’s what it’s all about this morning.” He takes a syringe out of the front pocket of the bag he’s toting over his shoulder.

“Wuddja doen ta me?”

“Giving you a nasty addiction to heroin, my dear. I would have thought that would have been obvious to a smart cookie like you. Now hold still, I don’t want to hurt my prize whore.”

Kneeling down beside the bleary woman, he pushes down on her head to freeze it in place as he brings the syringe up to the vein in her neck.

“Why ya doin’ this, Tunny? Promised Sir..gay I’d do wut he ast.” The raven-haired woman grimaces with anger and fear as the needle pokes through the skin, dead center into the pulsing blue vein.

“This is something extra. Something special just for me,” He says as he pushes the plunger on the syringe and sends the mind-numbing narcotic surging into Wonder Woman’s system. “This is something that goes beyond promises.”

“Heroine’s word...s’her bond, B’nana man. Yuh kin always trust it. I’d a been goo...oooood.”

Wonder Woman draws out the word in dull stupidity as her brilliant blue eyes suddenly flutter from the heavy mental static from the heroin shorting out the connections in her brain. The nearly naked Amazon’s body sags slightly into the mattress as all her muscles relax from the warmth of the potent Istanbul Express coursing through her body.

“Yes, well, promises are nice and all, but I prefer to go deeper, down to the raw emotions that drive the promises. You hearing me, Wonder Woman?”

“Yuhh.”

“Good. Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Tony takes a remote out of his pants pocket and presses the on/off button. Diana’s buttocks shake with a hard shimmy as the huge appliance centered within her loins springs to life with a humming energy that takes her breath away.

“HUUNH...Aaahhhh.....oooohhhhh.....”

And that quickly, the drugged heroine is aroused by the thrumming dildo going a mile a minute inside her overstuffed pussy. She sighs deeply under the combined pleasure of the heroin and the dildo.

“Okay, Wonder Woman. Since you promised to behave, I haven’t used an O-ring to pry your mouth open. You will willingly do that now for me please.”

“..whuh...?”

“Open your mouth, Wonder Whore. I’m going to put my dick in it.” Tony unzips his fly.

“Nutt s’posed to. Whimen heros dunt suck....peniseseses,” the dazed Amazon mumbles as she pluralizes the noun almost beyond recognition.

“But you promised, Wonder Woman. So go ahead. Open up before I decide to get unpleasant about it. Come on now. You prooommmmisssseddd,” he goads her. To goose her a bit, he thumbs the Plus button on the remote to increase the vibrations of the powerful dildo.

“Whuuhh!...aahhhh!” Wonder Woman opens her mouth with her grunt and moan of pleasure, then widens it reluctantly as Tony has commanded. She had agreed to do whatever she’d been asked. Even her drug-addled mind recalled that promise. Stepping up close to the edge of the bed, Tony grabs a handful of Wonder Woman’s hair in his fist holding her head still and then slides his semi-erect penis into the beautiful Amazon princess’ gaping mouth with a wide smile of satisfaction.

“There we go, Diana,” Tony says with a syrupy, patronizing tone. “Now you’ve got two nice fat cocks in you. One is in your mouth and one is in your twat. Could there be a better way for the famous Wonder Woman to start her day?” The sensation of the heroine’s warm mouth enclosing his prick is getting Tony harder quickly. “Now suck on it like you mean it, Princess. Give me a blow job I’ll never forget. Fulfill your promise.” Tony gets a slightly better grip on her black hair and leans his hips into her, eager to accept her submissive oral attention.

Trapped by logic and rope, Wonder Woman’s confused brain, brimming with the rushing tide of heroin and intense pleasure from the fat, humming dildo simply complies as directed. She begins to suck on Tony’s penis, slowly drawing in her cheeks and kindling the remembered delight of having her mouth filled with a warm, salty rod of pulsing flesh. She draws harder and then backs off and begins to slather her tongue over the full length of Tony Bonano’s now fully erect prick. He gives out a long slow moan of delight as Diana uses her mouth to explore all the joys that a hard male member can offer a very horny female heroine.

Two minutes into her labor of lust, a head-bobbing, delirious Wonder Woman feels a warm cord slipped around her neck and pulled close to her skin. It’s not too tight but the sensation is one she’s felt before. It’s her magic lasso. And through it, she feels the inexorable power of Tony’s will as he holds the ends close to her throat and bends over to whisper in her ear.

“Slow it down, Diana,” he murmurs huskily. She has been very, very good in her work and Tony is mere moments away from blowing his nut. But he has to keep to his plan and indoctrinate her at her most susceptible stage or things won’t work the way he needs them to. “Just slowly suck on my joint in soft easy pulses while I talk to you,” he commands. And she obeys.

“Good. Okay, this is your one true passion in life, Wonder Woman, giving the very best blow jobs you possibly can. It’s all you live for, actually. Pleasing a man with your mouth is your life’s highest ambition. Do you hear me?”

“..ethhh.” she replies, slowly sucking on his dick now.

“Even if it comes down to saving a drowning friend or finishing up a blow job, you will, of course, finish off the suck fest before thinking about doing anything for your friend, right?

“...wight..”

“That is your nature and your innermost drive, right?”

“...wight..”

“You understand that my command that you be a cocksucking whore to the very core of your being is what you cherish to do anyway, yes?”

“..no…nah…weally…”

“Yes it is! I’m telling you it is. You must agree.” He concentrates his will through the lasso with genuine fervor.

“…i…agwee…” Wonder Woman slowly responds, bending to his will.

“Excellent. Now that cocksucking professional whore who lusts for men’s cocks like a tigress in heat craves a mate is going to go away into a special room in her mind. She is there now. Can you see the cock-crazed cunt pacing in there?

“...uh huh...”

“Good. I’m going to give you a phrase that will unlock the mental door of the room that holds this cocksucking whore prisoner in your mind. When the phrase is spoken, the woman whose only desire is to suck men’s penises will be released from her mental prison cell. She will immediately suck the cock of the one who speaks the phrase and will not be satisfied until he is fully satisfied. Do you understand?”

“..ethh..” she replies with a slight nod that gives Tony a pleasurable shiver far up his spine.

“Very well.” Tony tells her the phrase and repeats it so there’s no chance of Wonder Woman mistaking any other casual phrase close to it.

“Now I command you to forget all these instructions completely until the time when that phrase is spoken. And after you completely satisfy the man who speaks the phrase, you will forget the instructions completely until the next time the phrase is spoken. If you understand all the commands I have given you, Wonder Woman, you will agree to them by saying, ‘Yes Tony I do.”

“Etthh, ‘ony, ah...ooh.,” the famous Amazon with a mouth full of cock answers without hesitation.

“That’s terrific. Now you may finish sucking me off and after you do, you will forget everything until the code phrase as I have explained, yes?”

“...etthhh..”

“Good. Then go at it, girl. Give me your best shot so I can give you mine.”

She does. And she does it very well. And by doing so, Tony finally reaches his breaking point. Holding onto a clump of hair on the side of her head with one hand cupping her generous, warm soft breast in his other, an ecstatic Tony Bonano fills the eager woman’s mouth with a flood of warm, thick cum. It gushes out rapidly but the pleased heroine obligingly swallows it all without any hesitation, happy she’s fulfilled her role in life. She even excitedly licks the thick drips at the corners of her mouth once she has released her happy man’s cock from her mouth. She enjoys the thrill of doing a job well, especially a blow job. Her dizzy head spins with delight at that thought as well as the humming power of the dildo and the warm bathing sensation of the Istanbul Express circulating within her befuddled mind.

After a full minute and two loud lusty body-shaking orgasms from Wonder Woman, Tony shuts off the dildo and, gripping the magic lasso around her neck closely against her skin, he takes a deep breath, clears his mind and lets Diana clear hers for several moments. Finally he says to her slowly, “Okay, Wonder Woman, that was fantastic. You’re a real pro. Just like I thought you’d be. Now, I have just a few questions for you and then you can get some well-deserved sleep.” But the questions go on for a half hour before Tony finally has all the answers he thinks he needs about her friends. After that, he does let her sleep.


* * *


“Hey, blondie, how about getting up and making us some breakfast,” The yell from Rico in the kitchenette of the apartment comes through the thin door of the bedroom where Supergirl has drifted back to sleep alone. Luiz and Rico have been jawing in the living room about the incredible time they’ve had over the last day with their prize blonde and what to do with the heroine. Now, after deciding to enjoy their Sunday watching some football games and playing with their favorite female squeeze toy during commercials, the two young men are getting hungry.

“Now I’m their cook and waitress?” Supergirl grumbles. This has got to stop. She swiftly tosses aside the covers, slithers quietly out of bed and silently pads over to the window in her bare feet. It’s shut tight and, looking out, she sees it’s a straight drop six floors below. No escape that way!

“Yo, bitch! I’m not talking to hear myself ya’ know. Come on out and fix us some eggs.”

The door to Luiz’s bedroom opens up and Supergirl stalks out in Luiz’s gray running shorts and the black Sex Pistols t-shirt. She walks right up to Luiz, standing only one foot apart and stares up at the young Puerto Rican who stands a good couple of inches taller than her 5’8” height.

“I am not your maid, your cook or your mother, Rico,” she growls in his face. “You want eggs, make them yourself. I’m going to take a shower. And if you’re making eggs, I’ll have two scrambled with toast please.”

“Ooohhhh. She got you, homes.” Luiz chatters with glee as Rico stands there shocked and fuming with anger.

Supergirl turns to head for the bathroom when Rico snatches out with his left arm and grabs her long blonde hair in a tight grip and yanks her backward right into a hard right shot to her kidney.

“GUUNNGHH!” The surprised blonde teenage heroine grunts in pain and arches her back in an involuntary spasm from the cruel punch. A follow-up flurry of three brutal knuckle punches with the same fisted right hand to the back of Supergirl’s head knocks her head forward and completely stuns the young girl. She falls to her knees dazed and then to all fours, wavering in bewildered pain from the devastating attack.

“Hey, Rico, take it easy. She’s not super anymore. You’re gonna hurt her!”

“I don’t take no lip from no cunt!” Rico takes a step forward, wraps the crook of his elbow around Supergirl’s neck and pulls her backward until she’s straightened up and wobbling in confusion on her shaking knees. “You giving me any more lip, cunt?”

“…no…” rasps the struggling blonde as her hands pry uselessly at Rico’s powerful arm.

“Come on. Let her go, Rico. She was being very nice to me last night and this morning. She ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Let her go now!” Luiz’s tone is firm but Rico is in the zone of feeling his power now that he’s got the heroine choking and flailing helplessly in his grasp.

“In jus’ a sec’, Luiz. I wanna hear the cunt agree to make us breakfast first. You gonna do that for us, Super Cunt? You gonna make us breakfast now?” He gives a hard jerk of his arm and Supergirl’s breath is completely cut off by the move. She dangles helplessly in Rico’s hold, her arms having fallen to her sides, her knees splaying apart as he pulls back on her body.

“…yezz…” she gasps, her eyes fluttering. “will…make…breakfast….”

“Good,” Rico smiles, releasing Supergirl and letting her body collapse limply to the floor. “Now go put on your costume. And don’t shower. Just start fixing us breakfast immediately.”

Supergirl lies on the floor trying to catch her breath and gets a short nasty kick in the rump from Rico for her delay that jerks her numbed body.

“Go on, cunt. Go get dressed before I give you a much harder shot to the ribs!”

Scrambling away with a half crab walk, half-crawl, Supergirl maneuvers several feet away before wearily rising to her feet and walking to the bathroom to retrieve her cleaned costume hanging over the shower rod from the night before.

“You gotta teach these bitches who’s the boss early on, otherwise they expect to run things,” Rico gloats. Luiz just looks at him and shakes his head.

“And who is the boss, Rico?” Paul asks from behind the started young man. Spinning around, Rico is face to face with the hulking massive physique of Paul standing over him.

“We…we all are. Least as far as she’s concerned, Paulie. That’s all I meant,” Rico replies quickly with an appeasing smile.

“Just so you don’t forget that, we’re cool!” Paul stares at Rico coldly for two seconds, making sure his message is delivered. “So, she actually going to make us breakfast, Rico?”

“I certainly think so, big guy.” Rico looks to the bathroom hoping he doesn’t have to push the blonde around again in front of Paul. But kind of hoping he does. But two minutes later a chastened Maid of Steel comes out of the bathroom in full uniform except for the missing cape that’s in the Bronx police station evidence room at the moment. Without a word to anybody, Supergirl goes to the kitchenette and starts gathering all the ingredients together to make breakfast.

If I had these so-called super powers, I would cram these eggs down Rico’s throat so far he couldn’t take a breath. See how he likes trying to get by without any oxygen!

She viciously raps an egg against the side of the bowl with a sharp crack that pulls the heads of all three men around in unison in surprise.

“Scrambled okay for everybody?” She asks loudly. It is 10:10 a.m. according to the tiny clock on the kitchen stove.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Big Trouble All Around
Part 43-B



At 10:30 that bright, sunny Sunday morning, Carmine calls Tony on his cell phone. “Where are you, Ton?”

“I’m in my suite, making some calls to see if anyone’s heard or seen anything about our blonde friend. You?”

“The same. You got anything?”

“Not a fucking thing. Any luck on your end?”

“I got squat, too.”

“Keep trying,” Tony says. “You haven’t called Lupenzo yet, have you?”

“To tell HIM I don’t have squat? Hell, no! I don’t have a death wish, Ton, unlike you. But I can’t put it off past like one o’clock or so, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, Carm. I agree.”

“What are we gonna do if we don’t have a line on her by then?”

“Fake a pass and do an end run, I think?”

“You care to explain that?”

“Not right now. Keep trying your people.” Tony clicks his phone shut and Carmine simply stares at his with wonder.


* * *


“We’ll be back in time for the football game,” Luiz shouts to Supergirl who’s retreated to the bathroom after cleaning up all the breakfast dishes. “We’re just going out for beer and chips.”

Luiz then looks at Rico sitting on the couch reading the sports section. “I’d feel better if you were comin’ with us, Rico.”

“I’ll be fine,” he waves them off with his up-thrown arm.

“It ain’t you I’m worried about. No funny stuff with her,” Luiz cautions him.

“Oh, it’s fine for you two but not me? I heard Paul and you rumbling around all night with her. You can’t tell me you didn’t have a piece of that tail! Either of you.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t beat the crap out of her either. It was consensual, wasn’t it, Paul?”

“Mostly, yeah,” the big man responds. Luiz gives him a “you’re not helping my case here” look but then turns back and calls to Rico, “Fine. But take it easy on her. We all want a piece of her again today and I don’t want to take no trips to the emergency room.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you,” Rico mumbles and gives them another wave off. Luiz pulls the apartment door shut behind him and the two men head outside to get their provisions.

As soon as he hears the elevator door close, Rico hops up and rushes to the bathroom door. He twists the knob but it’s locked.

“Hey, I got to use the crapper, girl. You almost done with your shower?”

“Done? I just got in here,” Supergirl says through the streaming warm water.

“Well, hurry it up. You’re gonna want to anyway. We don’t get much hot water when everyone’s home on a Sunday morning.” Rico stands there for 15 seconds listening.

“Yipe!” Supergirl squeals suddenly.

“See what I mean, sugar bush?” Rico chuckles to himself as he saunters off back to the couch and his paper.


* * *


Just after noon, Carmine’s cell phone rings.

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Is this Carmine Vega?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Carmine, this is Ed, from the Top Hat Bar.”

“Hi, yeah, Ed, what can I do for you?”

“I guess it’s what I can do for you,” he whispers. “Joey Target is here at the bar in his favorite corner drinking coffee. I’m callin’ from the back room so he can’t hear me. I don’t know how long he’ll be here. He was waiting for me when I came in to open up just now.”

“Keep him there, Ed. There’s three hundred in it for you if you can!”

“I’ll do it. Get here fast though.”

“I’m halfway there!” He clicks off and then dials Tony.

“Yeah?” Tony answers.

“Ton. We finally caught a break. Get your coat on, I’m coming up and then we’re goin’ out. Get Sergei ready to go, too!”

Five minutes later, the Escalade’s tires are squealing and the three Mafia men are on their way to The Top Hat Bar with very concentrated expressions on their faces.


* * *


When a nervously defensive Supergirl finally opens the bathroom door a crack to peek out after she has finished her shower and gotten dressed back into her costume, Rico is there waiting. He knocks the door back with a shove, mumbling, “About time!” He brushes by her in a rush, lifts up the toilet seat immediately, unzips his fly and half turns to her. “You mind?” He glowers at her.

Letting her guard down, Supergirl turns to walk out when Rico spins all the way around to face her retreating back and lunges forward, pinning his arms around hers and reaching up from behind to grab her breasts.

“Gotcha, bitch!” He gives both tits a firm squeeze as he hugs her tightly to his body. The feel of her large soft breasts beneath the smooth cool silken blue fabric of her famous tunic feels like heaven in his palms.

“Aaghh…Bastard!” Supergirl yelps as his hands now squeeze her breasts with vise-like ferocity that brings tears to her eyes. “Let go, damn you!”

Lifting the blonde beauty off the bathroom floor with a jerk, Rico rushes forward with his prize pinned in his arms and heads straight for the wall in the hallway to smash Supergirl against it. But the savvy teen sees it coming and pulls her feet up in the air, bends her knees and stops the forward rush with the soles of her boots flat against the wall. Rico grunts as her feet absorb the impact and stop him short. Supergirl quickly pushes off the wall with a mighty thrust and both of them fall backwards onto the floor. Rico loses his grip and Supergirl scrambles away toward the living room on her knees at first until she puts three yards between herself and Rico.

When she finally hops to her feet and spins around, Rico is bull-rushing toward her, his arms outstretched. He gathers the back-pedaling teen heroine in mid-lunge and his momentum carries the two of them over the coffee table and against the front of the couch.

“Oww!” Supergirl yelps as her head connects with the couch.

“HUNGGHH!” Rico grunts as he lands on top of the blonde and her bent knee jams into his stomach. The two combatants roll apart and lie on their backs in woozy pain from the jarring impact against the couch. Supergirl’s head had hit the couch only inches away from the flashlight wound from the previous night and the Band-Aids have been torn away by the glancing blow. The blonde champion sees stars as the pain swells quickly like a balloon inside her head. The reopened wound begins to seep blood as the groggy teenager lies on her back between the coffee table and the couch grimacing in agony. Two feet away, Rico is on his back as well with his hands clutching his stomach. He is fighting a wave of breathless nausea from the blow to his gut upon landing on the bitch’s knee. After a moment, he turns over and raises himself to all fours and looks over to see Supergirl on her back with her eyes half shut and her chest rapidly rising up and down as she tries to fight off some kind of pain. It looks to Rico like she hit her head on the couch after they went flying over the coffee table.

Good. I can get a shot in before she knows what’s happening!

Scuttling over to the prone girl on his hands and knees, Rico stops right at her feet since he can’t quite get as close as he wants to with her wedged between the table and the couch. He leans forward, balanced on his knees and on his one left hand and awkwardly jabs his tight fist into an unwary Supergirl’s exposed stomach. Rico is rewarded with a blast of hot breath forced out of the grunting girl’s mouth. He gives her a second shot, this one right between the moaning teen’s breasts, dead center on that famous “S” on her chest.

“OOONNFFF! OWWW!” Supergirl curls onto her side in a fetal position to protect herself as she tries to get her breath back. Wheezing loudly, she suddenly feels a painful jab against her kidney and with barely enough breath, she realizes she has to move or be pummeled into submission by this thug. Painfully dragging herself away, she then feels the hard fist once again, this time connecting with her thigh, but just a glancing blow. Supergirl is able to pull herself out of Rico’s range. Having recovered from his own stomach pains and shortness of breath, Rico finally stands up. He heads around the other side of the coffee table with a cold look in his eyes, determined to continue his beating of the powerless, hurt Maid of Steel. But even as he does so, Supergirl’s anger kicks in and she recovers her breath. In fact, she actually gets a second wind. Standing up quickly, she shifts sideways to an enraged Rico’s oncoming bulk and kicks out sideways at his stomach. She connects solidly, her boot sole thumping loudly against the shocked man’s gut. He bends in half and collapses onto the floor with a wheezing grunt. Bending over him, Supergirl gives him a straight hard right hand to his lower back.

“How do you like kidney punches, Rico? Hurts, doesn’t it?” The fiercely determined blonde glares down at the groaning thug as he curls on his side in agony. Backing off several steps, Supergirl looks around and decides it’s time she gets out of this hellhole! She takes several quick steps toward the front door when Rico gasps out loudly, “Don’t steal our crack! Just leave, please.”

Supergirl’s eyes shift to the right and she freezes in place. Then she turns around to face the young Puerto Rican thug who’s dragging himself to a sitting position against the side of the couch, breathing heavily with a raspy whistling wheeze.

“Where is it?”

“Like I’m gonna tell you.”

“You will unless you want me to rearrange your face, Rico. Where’s the crack?”

“Beat it out of me, cunt!”

“My pleasure, you obnoxious toad!” Supergirl stalks back toward Rico, then slows and circles around to his right. His right hand is steadying himself against the floor, his left is flung under the couch at the moment. He looks weak and unsure of himself but as she closes in, he gets a determined sneer on his face.

“Gonna hit a defenseless opponent, are you, Supergirl? Didn’t think that was your style.”

“I’m not going for style points, Rico. You’ve got one last chance. Where’s the crack?”

“ Between your legs, bitch. Right where my dick is going after I beat the shit out of you!”

“In your dreams, loser!” Supergirl feints a kick and Rico flinches badly. She follows it up immediately with a roundhouse right that comes from over her shoulder and into Rico’s face. Except his face dodges at the last second to the right so Supergirl’s punch simply connects with the side of the couch where his head no longer remains. From underneath her body, Rico’s right hand comes up and grabs Supergirl’s tunic in the center of her chest, pulling her off balance slightly. And that’s when Rico’s left hand comes out from under the couch with the tennis trophy that had rolled there when the two of them had crashed over the coffee table. Wielded like a golden club, the trophy flashes in the sunlight coming through the dirty windows as it swings in its short deadly arc with the powerful force of Rico’s anger driving it forward. The flat hard wood side of the trophy’s base slams into the side of Supergirl’s face with a sickening crunch. Her cheekbone has cracked with the impact. The blonde’s eyes roll up into her head and the collapsing Maid of Steel is easily pulled off her feet by Rico’s right hand and tossed sideways over the coffee table. The famous blonde-haired champion of justice lands on the floor with resounding double thump as her shoulder hits first and then her knees. She lies in a senseless heap of limp arms and legs with her ass sticking in the air, her bright red panties displayed prominently.

“Dumb bitch!” Rico snarls as he slowly gets to his feet. “You fuckin’ retarded crack whore! You were golden, you stupid cow. You were out of here and long gone but nooohh, you had to have the crack, too, didn’t you? But the joke’s on you, Supergirl. There was no crack! And now look at you: a pitiful, unconscious wreck of a cunt who’s just waiting to be fucked!”



* * *


“Whaddaya think, Paul, should we get one more chunk of crack for blondie and us? Bring it back like a nice surprise and we all get high? Luiz is carrying four 40 oz. Colt 45 ale bottles in a brown bag nestled in his arm outside the liquor store next to D’Agostino’s. Paul is carrying a brown bag filled with potato chips, pretzel rods and pre-made popcorn.

“How much money we got left?”

“About a ten-spot.”

“I don’t know. Rico lost his job last night according to the manager we just talked to. And he sure ain’t offering us no jobs. So times are thin right now to be blowing it on things we don’t absolutely need. A ten don’t even buy us much crack either.”

“True enough!” Rico nods. “But, Paulie, I gotta tell you, this girl puts out twice as well when you give her crack. And how often does a chance like tapping Supergirl come along? We’ll make do. I say we get it.”

“We could just take her without her approval and save the dough.”

“Easy enough, that’s true. But it sure ain’t the same. If you’d been with her when I gave her the crack last night.”

“You forget about yesterday afternoon? After the four-way? I remember how she gets, too. Ah, fuck it! Yeah, let’s get it and then head on back, it’s almost twelve-thirty, I don’t want to miss the game.”

“We’ve got world-class trim waiting for us and you’re worried about the fuckin’ game?”

“It’s the Jets and I got a twenty on it for them to lose and they’re heavy favorites so if the spread’s covered then I could be lookin’ at a hundred at 5 to 1! It’ll pay for the crack and then some!”

“That’s one way to look at it. The other way is that you’re fuckin’ queer as they come,” Luiz cracks a wide smile.

“That’s not what your mother said when I was holdin’ her ankles in the air.”

“Cum-breath-ed faggot!”

“Fuck-faced dipshit!”

“Let’s go to Top Hat already,” Luiz turns and heads that way.

“I hear that.” Paul says, following.


* * *


Supergirl is lying face down on the floor of Luiz’s father’s apartment. The spiked dog collar is back around her neck and her unconscious body is being dragged in short jerking yanks across the floor by the leash Rico is holding tightly in both fists. He is pulling her toward the stuffed armchair in the living room. The smiling goon is puffing with the effort and every jerk brings a squeak as the toes of Supergirl’s boots rub against the floor. He could have just lifted her with a fireman’s carry but this seemed like more fun. There’s no sound coming from the famous blonde teenage heroine except that inexorable squeak of her boots and the scraping sound of her belt against hardwood.

(Jerk) Squeak! Scrape! (Jerk) Squeak! Scrape! (Jerk) Squeak! Scrape!

Finally, the limp figure is pulled up to the base of the stuffed armchair and Rico bends over, gathers the flaccid girl in his arms and hauls her over the chair so her stomach is hanging over the back of it and her head is dangling just over the seat cushion. Her legs hang limply over the back of the chair, her toes just inches off the floor. Still not a whimper or moan from the beautiful blonde who’d been the most powerful female on the planet not so long ago.

“Well, here you are in all your glory, champ,” mocks Rico as he eagerly stares at the defenseless teenage girl draped over the chair a mere foot away from his hard cock straining at his pants. “So, okay, let’s see you do something super now, bitch!”

The silent form does nothing but drip bright red spots of blood from her face and her head onto the faded yellow seat cushion beneath her dangling head.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” scoffs Rico as he pulls his hard penis out of the fly he’d unzipped back in the bathroom before he’d attacked the dumb slut. “Pays to be prepared,” he says to the unconscious form as he steps up against it.


* * *


“Alright Joey. Let’s be sure what you’re saying,” Carmine says briskly, leaning his face into Joey Target’s own from mere inches away. Carmine is deeply aware of the time factor. They had to call Don Gino Lupenzo in less than a half hour or so. “These guys, Luiz and Rico, you sold ‘em crack and they mentioned a girl right.”

“Yeah.”

“And that wasn’t their usual thing, to have girls around.”

“Right. Not really.”

“You know where they live?”

“Kinda. It’s around here. I don’t remember for absolute sure.”

“Would a beating be helping you to remember,” Sergei says from over Carmine’s shoulder.

“No! I…don’t know if I could find it or not. Honest, guys. I’d help if I could.”

“You never delivered the crack to their place personally?” Carmine puts the question calmly to the shaking, nervous dealer.

“Twice, but that was, like, two years ago.”

“How close can you get to it before you’re not sure?” Tony has thrown that question in.

“I don’t know, a few blocks. It’s near the projects but its…uh…an apartment house that’s eight stories high. I remember that.”

“That’s good, Joey. There aren’t that many apartment houses that tall around the projects. We’ve narrowed it down somewhat. You may live through this day!” Carmine gives the jittery young man shoulder a shake. “Come on, get your coat on. We’re goin’ for a walk.”

“Sure. Sure thing, Mr. Vega. I wanna help. I really do.” Carmine’s grip on Joey’s forearm makes sure he gets to the door quickly. Carmine looks at his watch: 12:37


* * *


The mighty Maid of Steel hangs over the back of the armchair with her panties pulled down to mid-thigh and her skirt hiked up to her waist in a disheveled wrinkled ring of bright red fabric. Rico’s strong hands keep a tight hold on her bare hips and he thrusts his penis in and out of the unconscious teenager’s snatch with a grimace that is a mix of pleasure and pain.

“Uh…uh… uh… uh…uh!” He pants with every other stroke as he pistons his cock into the heroine’s vagina with harsh, angry effort.

“Damn! Wish you were wetter, bitch. Hey, I think Paulie used some lube yesterday when he was assfucking you. Yeah! He did! Let me go look in his room,” Rico says to the silent blonde. He pulls out immediately, pulls up his pants and walks off to Paul’s room.

A bleary, pained Supergirl hears the words “go look in his room” as her brain drags her out of her shock and unconsciousness to a bleary state of semi-awareness. Everything hurt so much! Her face, her head, her kidney and even her vagina were sending screaming emergency signals to her brain. She realizes she is hanging upside down on a stuffed chair and shifts her body with a soft groan by pushing off the seat cushion. Her feet find the floor and she struggles to a wobbly upright position, her head spinning with the effort. She steadies herself with an arm against the back of the chair and tries to put her brain to work. Rico would be coming back. She had to hide. No, she had to attack! He wouldn’t expect that. If she hid, he’d just be on guard and find her and beat her mercilessly. No, attack was it. But with what? She looks around where she’s standing in a slow, dopey search. Can’t see anything that would…was that a trophy on the floor? She walks over to the tennis trophy near the couch on very unsteady legs. The arm carrying the little gold tennis racket has broken off at the shoulder.

“Isn’t gonna help his backswing a’tall,” Supergirl murmurs as she bends over to pick up the trophy. This is a mistake. Leaning over brings a rush of blood to her already overtaxed brain and a huge surge of dizziness sweeps through the young blonde heroine. She collapses to her knees, her hands splayed out with fingers bent just to keep herself from falling on her face. She stays there for as long as she dares to get her equilibrium back. Finally she is ready to stand, trophy in hand, when she hears Rico’s voice in the living room behind her.

“Not going anywhere important I hope, Super Snatch,” His tone is gleefully superior. “You’re certainly not going anywhere quick judging by how you’re swaying in the wind there, sugar bush. Anyway, I have some special lube here,” he says shaking the small jar of Vaseline gel back and forth. “And I say we don’t waste the moment. Now whaddaya say, champ, let’s continue with what we were doing. Or should I say what I was doing to you!”

With a confident air, Rico walks over to Supergirl and takes a firm hold of her left bicep, dragging her off her knees to a standing position. He doesn’t notice the hand holding the trophy since her body blocks his view of it. As he roughly swings her around by the left bicep to grab her other arm, the momentum gives extra power to a swing that the weak, bleary heroine has barely been able to generate. As she is harshly turned, Supergirl brings up the trophy to eye height and the wooden base finds flesh once again, this time Rico’s temple. The flat base slaps hard into the side of Rico’s head with a resounding smack! The stunned brown-eyed youth’s pupils actually shake from the impact before his eyelids come half way down, his hand release their grip on Supergirl and he staggers sideways in a daze from the nasty blow.

Supergirl drops the trophy and gives the staggering Rico a wide berth as she makes her own wavering way to the front door of the apartment. She is watching him carefully, backing up to the door so he can’t attack her again from behind. She’s nearly at the door. She’s so focused that she doesn’t look down and see the flashlight on the floor that has rolled there during their battle. Her boot sole steps back onto the aluminum cylinder and the bleary, unwary champion doesn’t have a prayer. Her legs shoot out from underneath her and she lands hard on her back even as the back of her head hits the wall with a heavy thunk.

“UNNGHH!” The Maid of Steel slips into the darkness as easily as she’s slipped on the flashlight. Without a thought, she’s down into the depths of night yet again. A staggered Rico leans against the armchair back, waiting for his head to clear. If the corner of that trophy base had hit his temple instead of the flat face, he could very well be dead. He was just lucky and the blonde bitch wasn’t. That was all there was to it!


* * *


Joey is pointing out the tall apartment building a few blocks away to Carmine.

“I think that may be the one. It kinda looks familiar.”

“You’d better be hoping it is,” Sergei growls. He knew the timing just as well as his two friends. Their lives could hang on whether this clown of a dealer was right about this strange girl in the hands of these two or three crackheads. Joey hadn’t been sure if the big guy was still with the duo that had bought from him last night.

Just as they turn a corner onto a main drag, Sergei spots two guys with groceries heading their way. So does Joey and his mouth drops open.

“It’s them!”

“What, those two?” Carmine says, pulling down Joey’s arm so he doesn’t point at them like a fuckin’ idiot.

“Yeah, Luiz and Paul. That’s his name. Yeah. He’s still with ‘em, I guess.”

“Please to be stepping over here,” Sergei says, forcing the surprised Joey against the building by lifting him up and turning him around so he’s facing the wall.

“What the fuck!” Joey says.

The two men carrying groceries stop in mid-street about 15 yards away. Something strange is going on with that group of guys. One of them even looked like Joey Target, the guy now facing the wall. Why wouldn’t Joey want them to see his face?

“Gentlemen, Joey here says you deserve a refund on your purchase last night,” Tony calls out. “He’s ashamed he sold you low quality crack from the shipment we sent him. He said he cut it twice so it wasn’t nearly as strong a product as we like to offer our clientele. This does not sit well with us, and it is mere fortune that we meet here and now. I was afraid our product was going to get negative publicity because of Joey and we can’t have that, can we, Joey?” Tony nods at Sergei who gives Joey a shot to his lower back that shakes the dealers legs so badly he has to now be held up by Sergei.

“If you gentlemen would like to come here out of the center of the intersection, I’d like to make good on Joey’s sad transgression with a free sample of our much better product.”

Paul and Luiz look at each other. Free crack? That sounded too good to be true. But these looked like Mob guys and Luiz knew they liked to do business their way. Still he was hesitant.

“Gentlemen,” Carmine calls now. “I assure you, we aim to make Joey’s indiscretion right. Please, come this way and let us finish this transaction quickly so you can be on your way again.”

“What do you think?” Luiz checks with Paul.

“I ain’t crazy about it. But why would they want to fuck with us? Who are we?”

“You don’t think it has anything to do with…uh…blondie, do yah?” Luiz bites his lip. The two of them haven’t moved from the center of the intersection. Just then a car turns a nearby corner and rolls down the street toward them. It forces their hand.

“It is free crack, and as you said, we’re low on dough,” Luiz states. He takes a step forward but Paul takes his arm, holding him back.

“Still don’t like it,” Paul says.

“These pricks going to stand there all day?” Carmine is whispering out of the side of his mouth. “We’re running low on time here, Ton.”

“Be cool, Carmine. It’s their decision to make. Sergei. Can you take them out with your piece if you had to?”

“One, perhaps, at this range. If the other one runs, I’d say he’s gone.”

“Good enough,” Tony whispers back. “No kill shots. Wait for my signal.”

The angry old male driving the car beeps his horn and maneuvers around the pair of men standing in the middle of the intersection, giving them the finger as he passes.

“Schmucks! Getthefuckouttamyway!”

“Back at ya’ Grandpa,” Paul responds. “Let’s go home, Luiz. I ain’t comfortable with this.”

“But the crack…”

“Ain’t fuckin’ worth it, bro. Too much risk on the downside.”

“Shit,” Luiz curses and takes a step back.

“Gentlemen, this is a one-time offer,” Tony says to the pair, who stop and stand in place.

“We’ll pass. The stuff wasn’t that bad, really,” Luiz says. He takes a step back when Tony says softly, “Take out shorty’s leg, Sergei. He’d be the faster one.

A loud bang hangs in the air and Luiz goes down on one knee with a shriek.

“Don’t turn and run big fella,” Tony barks out his command. “My friend will put one through your shoulder blades at this distance without any trouble. He’s very, very good.”

Paul is torn as he looks at Luiz kneeling down and holding his bleeding thigh. He’s frozen with indecision and Tony pulls his piece and walks with it rapidly straight toward Paul, both arms out and keeping the big guy’s chest in his aim. At six feet distance, Tony stops.

“Wise decision,” he says. “Let’s go.”

“What’s this all about?” Paul is cool and surprisingly calm. Tony respects that.

“I believe you have something of ours.”

“Shit. Knew it was too good to last,” Paul says.

“Hope you enjoyed it,” Tony says coldly. “Head home, big guy. We’re on a deadline.”

Paul simply frowns deeply as he reaches down and hoists up a wincing Luiz.

“I’m shot, goddammit!”

“You think?” Carmine says.

Sergei brings Joey along and they head back toward Luiz’s place, him limping along and complaining loudly.

“Just a flesh wound in the thigh. Nice shooting, Serge,” Tony compliments the big Russian.

“I am to be having my moments,” he smiles.

“Is that accent and that twisted English real?” Tony asks as they walk in the bright sunlight on this early afternoon in the South Bronx.

“For the most part. But I do like to jazz things up in my role.”

“I noticed,” Tony says with the glimmer of a smile. They might be back on fucking track.


* * *


Back at Luiz’s apartment six blocks away, things are not going nearly as well for the Maid of Steel. Not nearly as well at all.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

At Death’s Door
Part 44



Once again an unconscious Supergirl is being dragged across the floor of the dingy South Bronx apartment by a smiling Rico. This time, her grinning adversary is holding her by her ankles and pulling her on her back along the smooth floor between the front door and the couch. Her soft blonde hair, her upraised palms and her red leather leash all drag along behind her with a soft, lingering hiss of fabric on wood.

The famous teenage super heroine is a mess. Her hair is clinging to her forehead from her sweat. Likewise, there are deep blue rings around her armpits and between her breasts from her perspiration. Her uniform is completely disheveled from her fight with Rico. Supergirl’s cheek is badly bruised from the clobbering by the trophy base. It’s already turning a bright reddish purple. Her slack, slightly open mouth shows streaks of blood at the corners from when she bit her tongue during her hard fall just moments ago. What’s more, the gash on the back of her head, having been reopened and enlarged by her latest fall, is leaving a steady trail of blood spots as she is pulled unceremoniously toward her awaiting fate over the back of the couch.

Rico plans to fuck this pussy if it’s the last thing he ever does. As he backs his way toward the couch, his eyes seek out the area between Supergirl’s legs, focusing on the gleaming patch of silky red panties revealed under her rumpled and upturned skirt. Her deep feminine prize awaits him beneath that silky stretch of fabric.

When he finally gets her over to the couch, Rico hoists her over the back of it, face down again, her stomach against the back of the couch, her rear end easily available. He begins to squeeze and fondle the limp blonde’s ass with great delight. His hands roaming all over the surface of the skirt and then under it, squishing her buttocks, massaging her inner thighs, stroking his palm against her pussy and prodding her with his index finger.

“Man, what a sweet, soft, squeezable ass you’ve got, Supergirl. I could fondle this butt all day, but the guys will be back shortly so I’ll have to cut to the chase and fuck your brains out. Oh, that’s right, they’re already out and dripping on your blouse collar!”

“...Uuuugghhnnnnnnnn...” The dazed and bewildered blonde heroine moans deeply as she fights for a consciousness that is not easily attained. Rico can’t believe the bitch was already stirring. She’d only been knocked silly five minutes ago by her fall. He’d thought she’d be out cold for at least a half hour.

“...whuuahyadoen...” She feels a finger probing into her anus as a hand squeezes her left buttock. “..stup...dat....”

“Like I’m going to listen to you, cunt!” He takes the waistband of her panties firmly in hand and pulls them down with a harsh yank. The two wide mounds of her ass are revealed, as is her perfect pink pussy. He takes the red underpants all the way down to her mid-thighs.

“There’s that beautiful portal of pleasure. Supergirl’s famous pussy and it’s all mine!” Rico’s mouth is dry with excited anticipation even as his cock strains against his pants.

“...nuhh...yuh...can’t...dooh...thishhh..” she slurs. With a tremendous effort of concentration, a woozy Supergirl puts her hands out and pushes against the couch cushion in an attempt to push herself up to a standing position. “¼wun’t¼..letchu¼.doit¼” It takes all she has but she’s able to straighten herself up at least as far as her torso being parallel to the floor. She’s just working her hands along the back cushion of the couch so she can push herself all the way up to full upright when Rico pulls the flashlight out of his back pocket, takes one step back away from the struggling blonde and swings the silver tube with a wide arc at the back of the unwary heroine’s head. The head of the flashlight connects directly against the existing wound in Supergirl’s lower skull and it sounds halfway between a thud and a crunch.

“UHN!” The sudden harsh grunt is all the once mighty heroine can offer before her world collapses into oblivion from this shocking skull fracture. Drained of all consciousness, the blonde’s body falls forward against the couch back and hangs there limp as a worn out towel.

“Now that ought to keep you out of trouble ‘til I’m done fuckin’ you, hero!”

Taking the small jar of Vaseline out of his pocket, Rico proceeds to smear the exposed behind, the vagina and the inner thighs of the famous heroine with a slick coat of the yellowish ointment. As soon as he’s done with that, he unzips and whips out his hardened cock and pushes it against Supergirl’s nether lips. Gripping her thighs in his palms, he pushes forward and easily slides his muscled length into the warm tunnel of Supergirl’s exposed vagina. The only resistance he feels are the tight muscles of the unconscious teen’s pussy. And that is exactly everything Rico needs, all he wants. He pushes his penis into the very depths of the warm silkiness until his ball sack rests against Supergirl’s inner cheeks.

“That is what I’ve been waiting for since yesterday evening!” Rico is exultant at his conquest and slowly he begins to fuck away to his heart’s content, sawing at the heavenly cleft with fervor and a passion that excludes his awareness of the blood seeping out of the blonde teen’s ears and her nose.

Small drops of her life essence fall to the couch cushion and stain it steadily, a growing collection of overlapping rings of red that offer startling proof of Supergirl’s fatal wound. A basilar skull fracture like this, with the symptoms she is showing, including a slowly developing bruising around the orbits of her eyes, is evidence of an injury that can very likely kill the helpless blonde within the next half hour if not treated immediately.

But the only treatment Supergirl is receiving is the cruel attention of Rico’s prick. He humps away at the dangling girl’s sex with selfish eagerness that lights his eyes with a fever from which he does not want to escape. His lust knows no bounds as he draws in and out of Supergirl’s lubricated love channel with piston-like movements. Holding the red leather leash wrapped around his clenched fist now, he pulls up on strap and the unconscious blonde’s head bobs up and down, her eyes closed, her mouth draped open and blood flowing from her nose and ears. But the enraptured Rico can’t see her face. He only sees her bobbing blonde head and this fills him with triumph.

“Uh...hmmm....uhhnn....yeah...yeah...that’s the super pussy I remember. Tight and warm and all so eager-to-please.” Rico grunts and grins as he savors his prize. His head is swimming with pleasure and he’s very close to cumming. It was faster than he wanted but Luiz and Paul would be back any minute and he wanted to be done. He knew he was going to catch hell damaging the merchandise like this but she was Supergirl. Nothing could kill her. Meanwhile, the friction is building to a crescendo as he pumps his hips with hard quick thrusts against Supergirl’s ass. His penis thumps and withdraws, thumps and withdraws against the famous blonde champion’s crotch.

And beneath him, Supergirl’s head bleeds from three different openings. Her ears, nose and skull all leak their red drips of death. And Supergirl herself is falling closer and closer to that final edge of life itself. All thought gone. All her energies and essences are drawn down to nothing. The internal hemorrhaging is causing critical pressure on her veins. She is mere moments away from a possible massive stroke or bleeding out or severe brain damage. She is at the portal of it all: life and death on the wheel of existence.

And then she isn’t.

The clock on the stove in the kitchen clicks to 12:49 just as Rico reaches his climax.

“Yess..yesss...YESSS....YESSOWWW...OWWWW...YEOOOWWWWW!!!” From the lofty heights of ecstasy to the very depths of agony is a shocking distance to cover in one scream but Rico manages it with a tonal brilliance that even his upstairs neighbors appreciate. From manly shout to girlish scream in just four seconds.

Just after his penis sprayed its sticky measure into Supergirl’s vagina, the tight muscles that encompassed his prick seized up with a sudden ferocity that made Rico’s eyes bulge out of his head. The bitch’s cunt felt like a fuckin’ steel trap! He tries to pull away, pushing against her shoulders in terror. And then he gets very faint with the pain, and falls forward onto Supergirl’s back, his arms limp against her own dangling arms. But the arms are no longer limp. They were moving and entwining around his own arms, her hands holding his wrists with the strength of handcuffs.

How did this girl get this strong so suddenly?

She was rising now and Rico can’t help but rise with her, his dick still embedded within her loins, his arms locked in hers. Supergirl was completely vertical now and she was backing up with quick easy steps that caused his feet to drag along outside her legs as she picked up more and more speed. He was helpless in her dual grip of arms and snatch and then she reached the wall. Actually he did first. His back slammed hard against it and he heard a nasty crack and then he couldn’t feel his legs or his penis at all. That was a relief! And then the bitch finally released him, her arms unwound from his and her steel pussy relaxed at last and Rico fell to the floor in a shapeless heap of twisted legs and flailed arms, his spinal cord crushed at the third and fourth vertebrae. His lower body paralyzed.

By the time Supergirl bends down to pull up her panties, she is completely healed. All bruises gone, all fractures as though they never were and all traces of red kryptonite vanished for good. All her memories are also back in her head along with the new ones from the last 24 hours which would take some emotional sorting out before they’d be categorized and filed in her amazing brain. Even the red leather dog collar lies snapped and broken on the floor, thrown there in disgust by the angry blonde. Now, looking down at the stunned, slack-jawed thug on the floor at her feet, Supergirl shakes her head slowly. Then walks into the bathroom and cleans off all the blood from her nose off the lower half of her face. Walking back into the living room, she glares with intense anger at the groaning Rico who is struggling to pull his legs into a semblance of order.

“You filthy pig,” Supergirl snaps. “You’re just lucky I have an oath against killing people.

Rico looks up at the blonde teen now standing over him in her famous heroic pose, her fisted hands on her hips. “You broke my fuckin’ back, bitch! I can’t move! Help me up!”

“Get up on your own, Rico. You’re not a quadriplegic, you’re only a paraplegic. You’ve got arms. You’d better learn to use them from now on.”

“You can’t do this to me. You gotta heal me. You can’t leave me like this, Supergirl. Have a heart.”

“You’re confusing me with someone who gives a crap, Rico. I wouldn’t heal you even if I could. You just about killed me you degenerate thug! I’m not doing squat for you. And when your two friends come back, I’m going to give them a taste of what they’ve been doing to me for the last 24 hours.”

“We were only having fun. You even liked it! I saw your face. You enjoyed the sex at first...you were getting off on....WAIT!... DON’T...OWWRRGGH!”

Rico would now need a good dental surgeon as well as a spinal specialist. Supergirl withdraws her boot from Rico’s face and stares down at the bloody form without compassion. She may have lost her cool on that one but he’d brought it on himself. She figured she could live with the guilt of completely invalidating this pig’s current dental records.

Just then the sound of a key in the lock snaps Supergirl’s head up and a mere three seconds later Rico is tucked in his bed on his back with the blankets pinning him tightly to the mattress as Supergirl waits behind the door for Luiz and Rico to enter the apartment. Scanning through the door, the Maid of Steel is shocked to see Tony Bonano, Carmine Vega and Sergei Zhukovia accompanying Luiz and Paul in the hallway outside the apartment. Plus there was some other man with them.

Interesting. Very interesting. But I’m still going to teach Luiz and Paul a lesson, no matter what Tony thinks is going to happen!


* * *


Diana is fighting a huge headache as she slowly wakes up in the penthouse suite of the Pleasure Dome. She sees that she is still in the plush bedroom, she is naked and she is tied to the king sized bed by all four limbs, this time spread-eagled to each corner.

“Ohhhh....” she moans, shaking her head to try to clear it. She looks to her left and sees that the clock on the night table reads 1:08 p.m. Early afternoon. She’d been out for at least another two hours if not more. Tony had been steadily pumping her with drugs for almost twelve hours now and her mental capabilities feel very dull and her energy levels at their very minimum.

There is a quick double knock on the door which swings open without her even issuing any reply. Stevie is standing there at the bedroom door carrying a tray and wearing a wide smile.

“So much for privacy,” Wonder Woman complains.

“Good morning, Diana. Hope you’ve been sleeping well,” he says, ignoring her comment.

“Besides being stuck like a pin cushion and mercilessly subjected to the most powerful heroin possible, yeah I’m good. Thanks, Stevie. Is that another dosing?”

“And breakfast as well.”

“What service!”

“Only the best at The Pleasure Dome for our special guests,” Stevie replies and walks forward with the tray.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me slip away to the bathroom. I have to pee something fierce.”

“Sorry, no. But I can put a rubber sheet under you to catch the urine.”

“You’re such a sweetheart. I’ll hold it in for now.”

“Actually, since you already pissed the bed once, we’ll go my route, so I don’t have to clean up after you again, Wonder Woman.”

“I soiled the bed once already?” Wonder Woman is distraught at this news.

“’Fraid so, Diana. Here’s some orange juice and there’s buttered toast and soft-boiled eggs. You shouldn’t have anything too strong since your stomach and body are adjusting to the drugs.”

“How long is Tony going to keep this up?” Wonder Woman ignores the food and eyes the syringe on the tray.

“Until you’re a stone cold heroin addict would be my guess. You’ll be easier to control that way.”

“Tony just might be underestimating me.”

“Yeah, well, let’s wait and see how you feel when you don’t get your fix. My guess is you’ll fuck on command if this heroin is half as strong as I think it is.”

“Quite the charming conversationalist, aren’t you, Stevie?”

“Lady, let me tell you something. You talk a strong game, and you try to back it up, but you forget something…”

“Yeah? What’s that, bright boy?”

“I’ve seen your dailies in the editing room, Diana. You suck and fuck as much as any whore when the motivation is there. Despite all your lofty Amazon principles and language, you can go down on a man’s cock as well as any prostitute can. Maybe even better.”

The raven haired beauty scowls at the filth coming out of this impudent thug.

“So when you get all high and mighty on me, Wonder Woman, just remember, I’ve seen you fuck your best friend Superman and beg him to fill your pussy with his rod of steel. I saw you whimper and weep and scream in ecstasy when Sergei took you from behind. And these mighty tits of yours? They can be stimulated and tickled to make you wet like any pussy on the planet so don’t try putting on airs with me, Diana, because I’m not buying the act. I know the slut beneath that cool veneer of yours. And I appreciate her for all her talents. Now do you want your breakfast or not?”

“Screw you, Stevie!”

“Eventually, Wonder Woman. I’m guessing you will! I look forward to it.”

“You filthy mongrel!”

“Well, if you don’t want breakfast, we’ll just move on to the injection.”

“I will see you behind prison bars soon, Stevie. I promise you that.”

“Stay still, Wonder Woman. We wouldn’t want to rip a vein.” And with that Stevie injects the sullen heroine with yet another dose of Istanbul Express, pushing the drug from the syringe barrel into the veins of the mighty Amazonian princess. In less than 15 seconds, the pretty and famous face of the Champion of All Women goes from grim determination to slack, dull-eyed and drooling as the potent drug rushes to her brain with stunning speed.

As promised, Stevie takes a rubber sheet out of one of the dresser drawers and works it under the famous heroine so she doesn’t ruin another set of sheets and stain the mattress when her bladder releases in her obliterated state.

“Big talker, but look at you now, Wonder Woman. Too stoned to even control your body functions. Tony’s got your number. And the sooner you accept that the better off you’ll be.”

“Pwetty juice box,” Wonder Woman slurs, her mind ravaged by the heroin.

“Yes. It is, isn’t it?” Stevie laughs out loud as he walks back to the bedroom door and shuts it softly behind him.


* * *


The moment the door to Luiz’s apartment swings open, Supergirl waves energetically to Tony with a huge smile behind it.

“Hey guys! What a great surprise!”

“Hello, angel face,” Tony replies, smiling. “It’s great to see you. You’re looking well. I was afraid for your health.”

“Oh, pish. You know I can take care of myself,” she giggles and lightly punches his arm playfully. Sergei and Carmine look on in mild bewilderment. This was not the scene they’d expected at all.

“Where’s Rico?” Luiz looks past Supergirl and turns his head both ways with heavy suspicion. In the hallway craning his neck is Joey Target, his eyes like saucers as he takes in the view of Supergirl in Luiz’s apartment. What the fuck is going on here?

“Oh, Rico, he decided to take a short nap.”

“I don’t believe you,” says Paul with a low growling mutter.

“No?” Supergirl says brightly. “Well, you are actually right, Paul. He’s not napping. He’s trying to recover from the broken spine I gave him.”

And with that, Supergirl reaches out and grabs Paul by the throat before anybody even has time to react to her comment. With a simple toss, she hurls the huge man across the entire room so he lands face first into the steel kitchen sink with a loud clang. Sergei’s eyebrows go up and he stands there in quiet wonder at the incredible strength required to hurl a guy weighing about 250 pounds across the room with one hand.

Luiz fares not much better. He doesn’t even have time to turn around before Supergirl seizes his shirt front chest high and slams him back and forth against the left and right sides of the doorframe half a dozen times. She tosses the bleeding form onto the couch with another careless heave. Both men are completely unconscious.

“So, what brings you boys around here? Miss me?” Supergirl is all smiles again.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, doll. Ready to go?”

“Not yet. I want to insert a few things up these men’s rear ends’ to make a point about women’s rights.”

“Far be it for me to stand in the way of a feminist on a mission,” Tony says. As Supergirl walks back into the apartment, Joey Target has seen enough. He turns to go when Carmine grabs his jacket collar, pulls him into the apartment and shuts the door firmly but with quiet purpose.

“Let’s just hang in here a while and see what happens, Joey,” Carmine says without a smile.

Six minutes later, the three little pigs as Supergirl has come to think of the South Bronx trio of losers are all on their knees in a row facing forward with their pants pulled down. Rico has the tennis trophy sticking out of his ass, but with his spine broken, it’s more for effect than for the pain he does not feel. His rectum is badly torn but not as badly as if it would have been had the little golden arm holding the tennis racket not broken off in the fight earlier. Still there’s much blood.

Luiz has an aluminum bat protruding from his butt and he’s whimpering with muted gasps as his rectum also drips red. And Paul is leaning forward with his forehead pressing against the floor with an actual tennis racket sticking out of his rear. The handle is buried all the way up to the round tightly strung racket head and the big man is groaning in agony.

“Oh, should I have used some kind of gel there, Paul? Sorry about that. Heat of the moment, you know,” Supergirl snarls with cold vindictiveness. “Now we can go, Tony,” she adds.

“Not quite yet, sweetie,” Tony answers her while watching the three men whimpering on the floor before him. “I want to give these men a lesson myself in the art of handling women.”

“I’d just as soon get out of here,” Supergirl says petulantly. “I’m really sick of this place.”

“We can leave in just a few minutes, Supergirl. Right after you give Sergei, Carmine and myself a rollicking three-way fuck.”

“…Wh…What…?” She actually takes a stunned step backward.

“You heard me, Supergirl. I want a three-way right now. I’m sure Carmine and Sergei would love one, wouldn’t you guys?”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Supergirl stares at Tony, her anger rising. “I just taught these three perverts how I feel about non-consensual sex. Did you not get my point?”

“Oh, no. I got it. Loud and clear, Supergirl. But this isn’t like that. You’re going to do us all quite willingly. If you ever want the quality crack I can give you. Unless you prefer to take your chances with Joey’s stuff here, which is stepped on more than the main floor of Grand Central Station.”

“Oh, Tony. Why are you doing this?” The pouting, angry blonde heroine is distraught with her dilemma.

“I told you it’s an exercise in control I’m showing to these low-lifes. They had a chance to do it right and they fucked it up. And then you fucked them up. I just want to show them how it’s done correctly.”

Leaning in to Tony, Supergirl whispers in his ear. “Couldn’t we, like, do this back in my suite? It’s cozier and everything. I…i…will do you all. But it has to be a double portion of the crack. ‘Kay, Tony?”

“Nope. It’s here and now or no crack. Ever! And based on how you’re getting the jitters, I’m guessing it’s been a while, right?”

“Yes. You’re right,” Supergirl admits glumly. She’s beaten by her addiction and she knows it. With one last whining effort she pleads her case. “Please, Tony. Let’s go back to the Pleasure Dome and do it there. I’ll….i’ll even see if I can get Diana to join in. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“I’m sure we all would, my dear, but it’s going down here and now. Don’t make me lose my patience.”

“Oh, fine,” she grumbles. “How do you want to do this?”

“Guys?” Tony looks at Carmine and Sergei. The big Russian smiles and says, “She can sit on my dick. Carmine, you okay taking her ass?”

“It would be my pleasure,” replies Carmine.

“Good, I’ll take the blowjob. She’s very good at it. Aren’t you, Linda?”

“I was taught by a master,” Supergirl replies coolly.

“You three stay right where you are,” Tony commands. “And Joey, take a seat over there in the kitchen and don’t try to get away or I’ll put a bullet in you. Got me?”

“Sure, Mr. Bonano. Absolutely!” Joey goes immediately to where he’s told and sits down to watch the show.

“Okay, Supergirl. Start giving Sergei and Carmine a good lap dance on the couch over there and we’ll improvise as things get heated up.”

“Yes, Tony,” Supergirl murmurs.

This crack better be the best yet, damn him. The very, very best!
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
ksire_99
Elder Member
Elder Member
Posts: 443
Joined: 15 years ago

Another amazing chapter Dr. D!
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Hard Lesson Learned
Part 45



An ambivalent Supergirl follows Sergei over to the couch in the sleazy South Bronx apartment that had been the scene of many sexual humiliations for the mighty blonde beauty. And now she was about to take an active part in yet another one just so she could enjoy the pleasure of a bowl of crack cocaine heaven. She could barely wait for it, having gone more than eight hours now since her last hit of the mediocre dose that Luiz had provided during their giggling sexual romp in the middle of the night. She is only shaking mildly now since her super powers are letting her suppress the physical cravings for the drug somewhat. But the psychological need had wound itself tightly around her soul and she is prepared to anything she has to in order for Tony to provide her that slice of heaven.

As Sergei reaches the couch, he turns around, sits down and spreads his arms wide with beckoning circles to the blonde champion who has stopped about four feet away from him.

“Come, my young divooshka, and show me your most seductive charms,” he croons.

“You’ve been waiting a long time for this, Sergei. You look like the cat who swallowed the canary,” Supergirl says with disdain. She was going to do this service but she wasn’t going to like it.

“As have you, my sweet,” he replies.

“In your dreams,” she says.

“Enough!” Tony calls out. “Get to it, Supergirl.” He has a schedule to meet, after all. Don Lupenzo must be notified. In fact, he turns his head and says to Carmine, “Call Gino. Tell him we have the girl and we’ll be back at the Dome in an hour. Tell him I don’t want to talk business until we get her secured. He’ll wait for that. He may think it’s a stall, but he doesn’t want to go to war if he doesn’t have to.”

Carmine nods and makes the call. Don Lupenzo is annoyed but agrees to wait until Carmine calls him back in an hour. If he doesn’t hear from Carmine by 2:35 sharp, all bets are off, he growls. Carmine nods at Tony that all is set for the moment.

Supergirl scowls as she watches Sergei lewdly entreat her to lower herself in every way possible. He wants her to lower her body over his and he wants her to lower her status in the eyes of everyone present by performing the lap dance that will confirm her subjugation to crack and to Tony and to him. Grimacing, the angry heroine looks down at Sergei’s lap and then over to Tony.

“What are you looking at me for? You know what to do, Supergirl,” Bonano says, his cruel tone allowing no leeway. “If you want the crack as much as I think you do, you’ll give our Russian friend here a nice, sultry lap dance.”
Back to her scowling glare, she looks down at Sergei and he looks up at her with a grin from the depths of the couch.

“Please to be smiling and enjoying yourself, divooshka!”

With a frown that she then turns into a pale, shallow smile that reeks of insincerity, Supergirl begins to reluctantly swivel her hips in front of Sergei, rotating her pelvis in slow, gyrations. Then she turns away from him and lowers her rear near to his lap and begins once again to rotate her hips so her gyrating ass swivels and circles directly over his bulging crotch. Supergirl is angry at herself but obeying the rules to get the crack she desperately desires.

The eyes of all three thugs kneeling on the floor grow wide in astonishment as they watch Supergirl do her slow grinding dance in front of the big seated blonde Russian. They don’t miss the fact that Tony is constantly turning his head sideways to watch them for sudden movements. In fact, not wanting to leave anything to chance, Tony pulls his gun from his shoulder holster and points it right at the threesome.

“Just enjoy the show, limp dicks, and don’t try anything funny. Just maybe you’ll learn how to keep women under control without beating the crap out of them.”

Off to the far side of the room, Joey Target also watches with his mouth agape.

Edging even closer now, the lithe young blonde lifts the back of her skirt up slightly and rubs the rear of her silky red panties directly against the lap of Sergei’s khaki-colored slacks. Dressed much more casually than Tony or Carmine who are wearing suits, Sergei’s clothes are well-tailored enough to show a rising under the fabric at the front of his khaki pants. His wide smile also confirms the result of Supergirl’s close proximity to him. He is getting quite stiff and she hasn’t even done anything fancy yet. The Maid of Steel’s long lovely legs straddle his own, which are tightly pressed together as she rocks her hips back and forth. Her ass now rests directly against his, the split in her butt sliding up and down along his straining bulge.

Not being a professional, the Maid of Steel doesn’t realize that an actual lap dancer wouldn’t let her crotch actually touch a man’s body but simply gyrate a mere inch or so away, all promise and no contact. Certainly not without an extra $50 bill for her efforts and even then only in a back room so legalities are observed. But Kara, even living in the penthouse of one of the most bawdy strip joints in the Bronx has never attended the rowdy bar downstairs or the gentleman’s club in the spacious backroom, so she knows nothing about it. Her rubbing of Sergei’s crotch with her butt gets the big Russian’s blood going and he reaches up and palms Supergirl’s breasts from behind, holding them firmly while she circles her ass and rubs herself against him. This fondling of her breasts is another absolute no-no in lap dancing. The customer is never allowed to touch the girl giving the dance. In fact, if they do, they can end up unceremoniously tossed out on the sidewalk with their wallets much lighter and their faces badly bruised by the bouncers. Sergei knows this from his long hours in clubs and even Supergirl thinks this move is out of line, but she says nothing as she continues to rock her rear end against Sergei as she looks down at the floor in quiet contemplation of the crack to come.

Sergei gives a small groan of delight and the Maid of Steel takes this as a cue. She stands up, turns around and then bends down, letting her long blonde hair dangle against his beaming cheeks. She then drags her hair slowly across his forehead and into his eyes.. Next, she swirls this around in short circles, teasing him with a circling drape of hair all around his face as he reaches up again and fondles her with hard squeezes of her tits. The blonde champion lowers her pelvis at last and rests her crotch against Sergei’s, rocking on it slowly and seductively.

Of course, the pressure of Sergei’s dick on Supergirl’s crotch does absolutely nothing for her. First because she wouldn’t be aroused by this crude, embarrassing behavior in front of a roomful of men and second because, with her super powers back, it would take a jackhammer between her thighs to even get her attention. In fact, when it comes to allowing them to penetrate her, Supergirl is going to have to concentrate quite diligently to ensure her vaginal and anal muscles relax enough to permit entry. With her powers intact, it would take an outrageous amount of explosives to get her thighs apart if she didn’t want it to happen. But with the promise of that incredible crack of Tony’s imbuing her thoughts, she’d make sure she’d give them access to her most precious treasures. That, more than anything else, is what is loosening up the muscles of the mighty teenage heroine.

Even as she thinks of the drag she’ll take on that small blue glass crack pipe, she begins to lose the rigidness of her frame and she arches her neck and swirls it in a wide circle causing her hair to swirl in its own golden circle before it comes to stop and drapes silkily down into Sergei’s face again. He is smiling up at her with an eager light in his eyes about his own reward coming very soon. Together, the young blonde heroine and the Russian thug are immersed in the luxury of their dreams even as they rub pelvises in front of the avidly watching audience in the apartment around them.

Supergirl continues to grind her crotch against Sergei’s with agonizing slowness, letting the cleft of her sex within the panties enfold the bulging dick in his pants. She rubs it back and forth a few times with a firm vigor that is not echoed in her eyes. In fact, her face is a frozen mask with a distant look off to nowhere even as she puts her palms on Sergei’s thighs and draws her pelvis farther forward, now circling over the hardness beneath his khakis.

“I am to be expecting much more emotional interaction, my blonde toy,” Sergei demands.

“Expect what you want. It wasn’t part of the deal,” Supergirl replies, her arms are straight, hard rods supporting her lithe body as her satin panties grind and hover seductively against his bulge.

“It is now,” Tony says from across the room. “Or I step on the crack so hard it’ll barely get you off, champ.”

The Maid of Steel turns her head around to look at Tony with a glare. She thinks how easy it would be to permanently blind him with a blast of heat vision and he registers the anger there and smiles widely. “But behave like I know you can and you’ll have a double portion of my best stuff, my friend. The very best.” Carrot and stick, it does the trick. Just like Dad used to say. Before he was whacked at Umberto’s.

Supergirl turns back to Sergei and gives him just half of her 1000 volt smile and shimmies her hips back and forth pressing harder against his straining cock.

Behind Supergirl, Carmine figures his time has come and he walks up close behind the Maid of Steel. He puts his hands on her shoulders and presses his chest against her back. Again, this breaks every rule of lap dancing but nobody has been enforcing rules of any kind in this apartment. Certainly not over the last 24 hours.

Carmine begins rubbing Supergirl’s shoulders, trying to knead them to loosen her neck and relax her. He might as well have tried to relax a battleship the same way for all that he can do to Supergirl’s muscles. But she relaxes her neck slightly on her own and Carmine actually thinks he may have something to do with it. To be politic and to ensure her continued promise of the crack, Supergirl gives her rear a little shimmy as Carmine stands behind her, bends over slightly and nestles his own crotch against her butt. She does it again and both men give small sighs of pleasure at this. Carmine’s hands then begin to lightly caress Supergirl’s rear, smoothing against its curves in smooth, gliding circles. Without any rules, the two men are now fondling and caressing Supergirl’s body with slow steady caresses all over from breasts to thighs, abdomen to hips. Allowing them the freedom, Supergirl circles her torso, then gyrates her pelvis and finally squeezes her thighs together around Sergei’s legs, all in an effort to fuel the fire of their passion and bring this humiliation to as quick a conclusion as possible so she can get her crack.

The three little pigs kneeling on the ground near Tony are wide-eyed with wonder, as is Joey Target over near the kitchenette. Without any restraints or kryptonite or rough stuff, the famous Supergirl was grinding away at Tony’s Russian associate and the big Italian mobster with her beautiful body and letting them fondle her body and tits without batting an eye! And all so she could have a pipeful of crack! Supergirl really was a genuine 100 percent crack whore!

The threesome of Luiz, Paul and Rico knew she liked the stuff but had no idea she was that hooked! Luiz thought she was doing it mostly cause she’d lost her memory and had swallowed his line about it providing her powers. Turns out he could have fucked her six ways to midnight and she would have let him if he just provided the crack! He’d been a fool and now he was on his knees with the handle end of an aluminum baseball bat shoved up his ass watching what had been his prize giving another man a lap dance and then some!

The famous Maid of Steel lowers her face until it is so close to Sergei’s that she can smell the peppermint lifesaver he’d popped into his mouth on his way to the apartment twenty minutes ago.

“Wouldn’t you like to kiss me, Sergie,” Supergirl breathes softly, her lips grazing lightly against his, her sweet breath mingling with the peppermint of his own.

“Da!” He cranes his neck forward and presses his lips to hers and feels the softness of her mouth seal with his. His tongue slides between her lips and he is surprised to find her own tongue willingly entwining his. She was complying with Tony’s instructions on all fronts and Sergei couldn’t be harder than he was. She rubs her crotch against his own and continues to kiss him soulfully as his hands squeeze and fondle the firm breasts. Being fully super powered, her breasts give very little, barely dimpling under his hard, firm hands. This disappoints Sergei but her crotch is giving him the best time possible with two layers of clothing between them. Sergei tries to alleviate that situation by suddenly pulling down his fly.

Supergirl pulls back and disengages her mouth from the eager Russian’s. “Hey, this was only supposed to be a lap dance. No exposed penises!”

“Incorrect, Supergirl,” Tony says from across the room, keeping a steady eye on all three men crouched on the floor beside him. “I said you were starting off with a lap dance but that I wanted a three-way fuck. I can’t believe you forgot that!”

“I was hoping you had,” she grumbles, as her head is turned looking back toward Tony with a frown. Beneath her, an over-eager Sergei has pulled his rock hard dick out of his pants. He takes the edge of fabric at her crotch and pulls it aside revealing her plump pussy lips. They are gleaming with the pale Vaseline gel that Rico had smeared on her earlier on. She hadn’t taken the time to clean it up and Sergei is pleased that she will be greased and easy to enter! He’s going to take this heroine and show her how a real man handles his women.

With the sensation of air flowing around her privates, Supergirl immediately turns back toward Sergei with surprise. She sees him guide the tip of his penis into the greased cleft of her lips and realizes he’s going to try to drive his penis into her vagina. If she didn’t want that, he couldn’t get his cock into her with a crowbar, but if he bent his cock in half trying to enter her, things wouldn’t go well here for anyone. Sergei would be howling with pain and Tony would probably choose to withhold the crack for her lack of cooperation. So in the fraction of a second she’s reasoned all this out, the mighty Maid of Steel consciously relaxes her vaginal muscles to allow Sergei his entry. Just in time, her mighty fibers relent to Sergei’s long, hard muscle and he drives himself to the very core of Supergirl’s sex.

“Uuunghh,” Sergei grunts with satisfaction as he fills the warm passage with his cock and enjoys the sensation of Supergirl’s tightness surrounding his prick. He has no idea how close he came to not only losing his erection but the use of his cock for the better part of a week had not Supergirl chosen the path of least resistance to the crack she so desperately craved.

Oblivious to the disaster averted, Sergei begins to pull and push his penis in and out of Supergirl’s warm tunnel of love with a heady, animalistic need brought on by her teasing lap dance. As a further courtesy, Supergirl even concentrates and relaxes her legs a bit as they cling around Sergei’s legs with firm yet yielding acquiescence.

“Uuuhnn! Nice-size tool there, Sergei,” she offers. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thinks.

“Iz my pleasure, I assure you, divooshka,” Sergei grunts heavily, his eyes shining with the pleasure of the moment. He thrusts himself upward slightly, penetrating a bit deeper into the warm cleft of Supergirl’s vagina, savoring the feel of her heat encircling his member. Unconsciously, his hands rise together and circle her waist, drawing her down onto him, pulling himself deeper into her as he holds her body and savors the sensation of fucking the famous Supergirl.

From behind, Carmine has pulled his own cock out and has Supergirl’s breasts in his hands as he holds her upper torso tightly and rubs his exposed penis up and down between the silken valley of her panties. Hard and eager, Carmine is squeezing the blonde heroine’s tits with all his strength but she’s barely aware of it. She’s concentrating on keeping her Kegel muscles loose so she doesn’t crush Sergei the way she had Rico. There’s no thrill of sensation when she relaxes herself, since Sergei’s cock does not have the power of an industrial punch press but the Maid of Steel fakes it for appearances.

“Mmmmh. That feels good.”

“Da,” Sergei grunts as he continues to pull and push his penis in and out of Supergirl’s pussy, holding her body close over him as Carmine tries to get harder and harder rubbing his member between the rock-like spheres of her rear end without much success.

“Pay attention back here, Super slut,” growls Carmine. “Where’s that soft, world class ass of yours? This is like trying to fuck a rack of bowling balls!”

“Sorry, Carmine,” apologizes the blonde heroine. “I’m trying to keep Sergei happy.”

“Yeah, well, I outrank him so give me a little tenderness, too, sugar, or no crack for you!”

Bending her head forward and kissing Sergei once again to distract him a bit, the blonde teenage champion swiftly relaxes her buttocks with every bit of attention she can and Carmine sighs happily.

“That’s much better.” He begins to rub his dick steadily back and forth against the silk panties, his member squeezed between two much softer spheres of flesh. His dick firms up nicely and he pulls aside the crotch of Supergirl’s panties, opening it wider than ever. With her balloon knot now clearly in view and all ready greased with Vaseline, Carmine presses the tip of his dick against Supergirl’s anus and presses himself forward. Relaxing her sphincter completely, Supergirl allows Carmine entry into her rear without the hint of reluctance. The wide, warm tool presses forward and slowly fills the tunnel within Supergirl’s cheeks.

With slow and steady thrusts, Sergei and Carmine enter and withdraw the orifices in Supergirl’s crotch at will. Her will and theirs. They savor her warmth as they fill and retreat, fill and retreat in eager, slowly increasing tempos, each man with his own. And the mighty Supergirl allows their sawing thrusts without any retaliation and with only the slightest encouragement. She is concentrating on keeping all her muscles relaxed even as she contemplates the glowing bowl of crack cocaine that will be payment for this debasement. And through it all Tony watches with pleasure. Supergirl was his and she was back! And to prove the point beyond a shadow of a doubt, he steps forward, walks around behind the seated Sergei and stands before Supergirl, looking down at the top of her head.

The blonde beauty is still giving Sergei a deep, soulful kiss even as her ass and pussy are being pounded away at by the ever-increasingly eager cocks of two delighted Mafia mobsters. And now Tony is feeling a bit aroused at the very thought of this powerful adversary of his who is about to willingly and literally bow before him to suck his cock!

Before him however, the mighty teenage dynamo feels no passion, no irrepressible stimulation, no flighty swells of erotic thrill as the two penises continue to plunder her treasures. Just because she has relaxed her muscles doesn’t mean she’s relaxed her guard. Emotionally, she’s riding on an ocean of conflicting feelings. At one moment she is riding in the trough of a wave of anger at having to allow these two bastards the pleasure of despoiling her, the next moment she is at the crest of a immense swell of thrilling expectation of how the crack will fill a different hole of hers, the yawning mouth of a fiery dragon that demands its due in untold pleasures of a crack high. She knows the madness of her need but she can do nothing to stop it or lessen the steely grip of its long talons. And the dragon’s voice seems to match Tony’s who calmly instructs the mighty heroine to bend over and suck his cock. Sergei slides lower in the couch to facilitate this and before she even realizes her complicity in her own damnation, Supergirl bends over Sergei’s head. His mouth begins to chew at her nipples under her blouse even as she does, and the blonde champion bows low and stretches forward to meet Tony’s exposed cock only inches from her now opening mouth.

Holding his dick up between his thumb and forefinger for her convenience, Tony watches eagerly as Supergirl opens wide and takes the tip of his long hard member into her mouth and sucks firmly at it like the willing whore she has become. Once again the three thugs on the floor are astonished to see the famous heroine willingly bow to this Mafia kingpin and take his cock in her mouth without a whimper of protest.

This is too much for Luiz, the brains of the outfit. “Fuck man! And we had her doing that for us before we got stupid and started screwing around! Paulie, are you seeing this.”

“Shut the fuck up, Luiz. We had our shot and blew it. Stop your fuckin’ whining!”

“All of you clam up!” Carmine shouts not even looking back at them. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t say shit about this to anyone.”

“Not a word,” Rico pipes in. “Not a fuckin’ word!”

But Tony has other ideas. He rubs salt in the wounds of the trio on the floor watching the scene before them in amazement. “As I said, gentlemen, all it would have taken was a little crack provided on a steady basis and you three morons could have been doing this for the last 24 hours,” Tony goads. “How stupid do you three feel now?” Paul tries to stand up and Tony pulls his gun.

“Easy there, big guy. You don’t want extra holes in you that don’t belong there.”

“Fuck you, Tony, or whatever your name is. You’re going to kill us when this is over anyway. I’m through with this shit!” Paul reaches around and grabs the tennis racket handle and pulls the equipment out of his ass with a yank and a grunt. “If I’m dyin’, I’m doin’ it like a man!”

“Fine by me,” Tony says and raises his right hand quickly. Carmine leans immediately away and turns his head, knowing the sound is going to hurt like a sonofabitch. Tony shoots Paul in the head from seven feet away and indeed, the sound reverberates off the apartment walls as the body of the big man collapses backward in a heap. Luiz shakes his head and trembles in his crouch on the floor.

“Stupid fuck,” he mumbles. “Paulie, you stupid fuck.”

“Anybody else feeling brave?” Tony aims at Luiz and Rico and then over at Joey Target.

The three remaining Bronx bums say nothing.

“Back at it there, Supergirl,” Tony commands and the Maid of Steel starts sucking him off again as her rear end and vagina are steadily pounded away at by Sergei and Carmine. The blonde champion just wants it all to be over now. She’s sick of death and men trying to prove themselves to her or to themselves! She quickly grasps Tony’s shaft and slathers her tongue over and around the glans of his cock with relentless attention. Her body is held up and in place by Carmine’s grip on her tits and Sergei’s hold on her hips. She’s not going anyplace this threesome doesn’t want her to go.

But Tony is not satisfied with Supergirl’s performance. She is too cold. Much too remote. He wants her to be tamed emotionally as well as physically. Sliding his right hand in his suit pocket, he removes a dull gray bag. He puts the gun in his belt for a moment, shakes out a thin glowing green strap that draws a moan from the blonde champion sucking his cock. In seconds, he fastens this around Supergirl’s neck and pulls the gun from his waist and aims it back at the two men kneeling on the floor.

Supergirl has stopped sucking on Tony’s dick and now her chin rests wearily against the back of the couch, her eyes clouded and dull by the reaction to the poisonous kryptonite choker clinging to her throat.

“I figured you’d want to enjoy the sex as much as the rest of us, Supergirl. No thank you’s are necessary,” Tony states with wry blandness.

Indeed, the small choker has drained the mighty heroine of her powers so that she can now feel all the sensations of the two men thrusting away at her. Her vagina and ass are repeatedly being filled and emptied, packed to the brim and voided again and again, the friction creating waves within her now that she’d been impervious to only a minute before.

“Let’s go, Linda. Back to sucking my dick. This time with feeling! Pick it up a little, fellas, that gunshot might have brought trouble. Although I doubt it in this neighborhood.”

And all three men now have at the famous blonde with renewed gusto. There is a flurry of pushing and pulling, squeezing and mauling. The weakened teenaged wonder is bumped about and degraded with innumerable caresses that now bring her senses to heights of pleasure she is having difficulty containing. Tony does not even let her suck slowly on him now. Instead, he cradles her face in his hands and thrusts away at her mouth with constant, relentless strokes that her lips barely touch. His penis dives deep into her throat again and again, it’s tip grazing the back of her tongue, the back of her throat and the insides of her cheeks in its piston-like force. It is all she can do not to gag or lose consciousness.

From behind her, Carmine has her in a bearhug, with his large hands clasped around her breasts even as he thrusts away at her ass. And Sergei is no slouch beneath her. His hands hold her hips as he drives his cock in and out of her pussy with unending determination. The friction from the large, hot shafts thrusting in and out of her body is far too much for the dazed and defenseless blonde champion to withstand. The whimpering and moaning heroine can endure the pleasurable wave within her not one second longer and her vision goes white with ecstacy as she succumbs to one of the most intense orgasms of her life. Her spasms bring her partners with her and all three men fill Supergirl with their cum. It squirts within her rear, shoots deep within her vagina and spills torrents down her throat. And this in turn pushes Supergirl into a second paroxysm of delight which pulls more semen from the men’s cocks with jerking gratitude.

Seeing what he believes to be an opening, Rico jolts to his feet and makes it as far as the front door before a bullet from Tony’s gun finds his back. The body crashes hard against the door and bounces backward before sprawling with arms akimbo on the cold wooden floor. The door itself is splattered with the blood from the bullet’s exit wound from Rico’s chest.

Once again Luiz shakes his head and Joey Target actually slides off his stool in a dead faint and thumps noisily to the floor.

After half a minute of heavy breathing and coming back to reality, Tony calmly says, “Did I make my point, Luiz?” He looks down at the man as he puts his dick away. Sergei and Carmine tuck themselves away and help a dazed Supergirl to her feet. She looks at the two dead bodies of Rico and Paul and feels surprisingly little. But that is a combination of all she’s been through over the past 25 hours.

“You made your point, sir. Please. Do not kill me. I will tell no one what has happened here. Ever. You have my word, Mr. Bonano. On my mother’s life.”

“I don’t think I can trust you, Luiz. What do you say, Sergei? Can we trust Luiz here to keep a secret?”

“Nyet,” Sergei says. He pulls his own gun and shoots Luiz in the stomach without pausing at all. Supergirl jerks in surprise at this and takes a step back in shock. The jerking Luiz looks down at his stomach with surprise and then resignation. “I didn’t think it would go well with me,” he says and collapses weakly on his knees. Sergei puts a second bullet into his head and Luiz’s body jerks off to the right into a heap on the floor.

“What about Joey?” Carmine nods at the crack dealer lying on the floor unconscious but not dead.

“He’s got a habit, right?” Tony is thinking.

“Yup,” Carmine answers.

“Well, he’s got to go, too, then. Linda and I are going to wait out in the hall,” Tony says. “Wipe the place down, Sergei, and make it look like a drug deal gone bad. The only loose end is the bartender.”

“He’s cool, Ton. We can work with him, in fact. He might agree to be Joey’s replacement.”

“Whatever you say, Carm. I trust you. Let’s go get some air, Linda. It’s been a long day for you.”

“I can’t let this go, Tony. No matter what they did to me. I will bring you to justice one day, somehow,” the blonde heroine murmurs with little conviction.

“Whatever. Let’s get you home and get you that double bowl of primo crack.”

“Yes, that would be good,” she replies woodenly. Numb.

“Hurry it up, fellas. We got a phone call to make in just 38 minutes.”
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
Abductorenmadrid
Millenium Member
Millenium Member
Posts: 1376
Joined: 11 years ago
Contact:

Their claws are still dug in and yet it seems they barely have a hold of SG now, one little mistake and .....
My avatar courtesy of https://www.deviantart.com/sleepy-comics

My current story is Supergirl V Bane


This is all the stuff I've done here but don't tell anyone about this!
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

The Confusion Of Ecstacy
Part 46


As soon as the door to the elevator slides open, Supergirl takes three steps out, spins around and clutches Tony by his lapels with a beseeching look in her eye. Her head jerks involuntarily as she tugs on his jacket with hard shakes: at least as hard as she can with a kryptonite choker ringing her neck with its soft green glow.

“Come on, Tony, you promised. You said in the car if I told you everything that happened since the bank that you’d give me the magic pebbles as soon as we got back. Well, we’re back home in the apartment now so you should do what you promised and give me the crack!”

“Alright, okay,” he chuckles. “Let go of me so I can get it! Jeez, you’re like a bitch bulldog.”

She releases him but stays close, watching his every move. He takes the familiar blue glass crack pipe out of his left suit pocket and a small baggie out of his right. The blonde teenage champion’s eyes dilate and she bites her lower lip with eager anticipation. She is shaking and twitching from a combination of excitement and withdrawal, her head jerking spastically every few seconds now that her fix is mere moments away. Tony removes a small white nugget of crack from the baggie and drops it into the bowl of the pipe then hands the pipe over to the quivering superheroine addict. Tony’s smile is smug as can be. Why wouldn’t it be. He is back in charge.

“Here you go, Supergirl. Would you like me to light your crack pipe for you?”

“Yes, please,” she nods, putting the pipe in her mouth and swaying forward in heady anticipation of the drug she craves coursing through her body. Tony snaps the lighter and the bright yellow flame flickers and draws into the bowl as the famous Maid of Steel takes a strong pull on the pipe. The small nugget catches the flame and is enveloped in fire, then ignites and crackles as it releases its potent smoke into the barrel of the pipe and then deeply into the lungs of the blonde beauty sucking greedily on the pipe. After a pause, she takes a second hard puff and draws more of the smoke in, then holds her breath and lets the drug mix within her, catching its ride on her bloodstream as it takes the express route to her brain. Mere seconds later the incredibly powerful narcotic sweeps into the station that is Supergirl’s mind, the figurative doors open and all the light and happiness of the world pour out and fill the platform with unending joy.

Supergirl stumbles back in an awkward shuffle of feet before Sergei catches her elbow and steadies her. This is very powerful crack and she hasn’t had such quality stuff in a while.

“Easy there, divooshka,” he chides her. “You are perhaps too overeager for your pleasure and not used to such potent product.”

“Yeah,” the dazed beauty mumbles her reply. “S...s..strong...stuff. Need to siddown...”

Sergei guides her over to the plush leather sectional and she flops down into it with a sigh. She sprawls there in dopey satisfaction with her legs spread, her head hanging back against the cushion, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she lets the crack expand through her existence like a warm heat lamp.

“Well,” Tony says, looking at the exposed cum-stained red panties of the undignified teenage champion as she bathes in the glow of the powerful stupidity she has inhaled, “I guess now that Supergirl is deeply involved with her drug of choice, it’s time you called Don Lupenzo, Carmine, and give him the rules of the game from this point on.” Tony is feeling exultant himself, relishing the power of his control once again.

“We have new rules?” Carmine’s eyebrows go up as he looks at his boss with consternation. More slights of hand from his protege are coming. He was looking forward to an easy call with Gino, confirming Supergirl’s upcoming release and an easing of tension between Tony and the families. But with the look in Tony’s eye, that clearly wasn’t going to be the way this was going to go down. Should have fuckin’ known he wouldn’t take the easy route!

“Oh yeah, Carm. Definitely new rules. Let’s go down to my apartment and talk this over. I’ve got an idea how to handle Gino and the families that’ll knock your socks off!” Tony is all smiles as he puts his arm around Carmine’s shoulder and guides him around to the elevator.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Carmine says glumly.

“Sergei,” Tony says, turning his head around and flipping the crack baggie to the big, blonde Russian, “Make sure our pretty friend there gets her second nugget just like I promised. And check on her compatriot in the bedroom. But nothing else for her today at all. I want her to feel what it’s like not to be floating on a cloud anymore. I want the big strong woman to fall to earth. Hard!”

“Dah,” Sergei answers. “One goes up and the other goes down. Like seesaw. Check!”

“..thanks...Tony,” the stupefied blonde heroine sees Tony leaving and waves her hand back and forth in the air, completely oblivious of the conversation that’s just transpired. She’s been concentrating on the Italian landscape on the wall and getting horny with her fantasy of her Florentine lover.

“You’re entirely welcome, Supergirl. It’s my pleasure.”

“...not...entirely..” she murmurs, her hand creeping toward her belt. Sergei watches her for a moment as the graceful fingers slide beneath the belt into her underpants and grins. Then he heads toward the bedroom to check on Wonder Woman.


* * *


Gino Lupenzo is boiling mad. He’d just gotten off the phone with Carmine Vega and that prick Tony Bonano was trying to stall yet again. And he’d had enough! Carmine had said Tony felt that Supergirl was too volatile right now to release. She’d just been gang raped by three thugs in the South Bronx. Apparently she’d been exposed to some strange kind of red kryptonite that made her lose her powers and her memories for a day. That was why Tony hadn’t released her. He hadn’t known where she was until about two hours ago. Now that he had her back again, Tony thought that Supergirl was too shaken and disoriented to deal with heavy promises like not going after the mob if she were released. Surely Gino could appreciate the delicacy of the situation. He needed another day or so to get the girl focused and controlled enough to ensure she wouldn’t take her vengeance out on Tony and the families. She had to feel she was giving a promise of her own volition, otherwise she might not honor it. Gino didn’t want Supergirl fucking up their businesses, did he, Carmine had asked. What would an extra day or two matter as long as she was released and honored her promise?

“What about Tony’s promises?” Gino had asked. “Do they mean nothing? Superman is gone and not released like Tony promised. Wonder Woman has been captured by terrorists supposedly and everybody is frightened and nervous about that. Then there’s the whole thing with Supergirl robbing a bank and blaming the mob for turning her into a crack addict when Tony had promised to release her. Tony’s promises are worth nothing it seems. And I cannot do business with a man whose word is shit!”

At that point, Tony had leaned over the phone sitting on the small kitchen table between himself and a stammering Carmine.

“Don Lupenzo, if I may.” Tony said, waving Carmine off and talking closely into the microphone of the unit’s speaker phone. He started talking to Gino in a calm reasoned tone. “I know you don’t think much of me right now, even with all the millions I have earned for the families in the last few months thanks to my capture of Supergirl, but you are not here with me to see the situation. She is not herself right now. She needs time. Not a lot. Two days to get her feet back under her and to reach a calmer place so we can reason with her. Believe me, Don Lupenzo, I understand your fear for the families’ name and business interests. Believe it or not, I share your concern. And I feel the pressure you do as well.”

“It does not feel that way at all to me, Don Bonano,” Gino had thrown back.

“You don’t think so? Tomorrow night I believe the police are going to raid my club, The Pleasure Dome, here in the South Bronx, looking for Supergirl.”

Carmine is startled by this news. Tony had not breathed a word of it to him.

“You will probably see it on the news,” Tony stated matter-of-factly. “They want to make a show of doing something important and they are coming right at me. Now I can move the girl out in time but releasing her is not in either of our interests.”

“How can I believe anything you say, Tony?” Gino barked through the phone’s tinny speaker, forgoing all pretense of respect in his anger. “You have done nothing that you have promised! How do I know this story about the red kryptonite is true. It could all be nothing but a stall.. Your time is up today. I keep my word! You will come to realize that very soon, Tony Bonano. Gino Lupenzo does not lie and does not do business with liars! If the girl is not released and shown on the news in the next two hours, I will have your head brought to me on a plate!”

Carmine is going red with anger at Lupenzo’s tone and disrespect. Tony makes a calming motion with his palm, pushing it up and down in the air in front of his large friend.

“It would be best not to overreact, Don Lupenzo.” Tony is amazingly cool in the face of these venomous threats, even winking at Carmine with devilish charm. “You do no service to the families by throwing us into a war. Profits come more easily in peace. I urge you not to forget that.”

“My service to the families is long and honorable and without the stain of your flashy ways that bring discredit in ways I have never would have imagined. Especially from a man who is the son of one as respected as your father, Don Bonano. Don Mario Bonano would be turning in his grave if he could see the shame his son has brought to the families this weekend!”

“A grave you very well might have put him into, Don Lupenzo,” Tony replies with icy stillness, his hand gripping the receiver, his knuckles white. Now Carmine is making calming motions.

“Blasphemy. I never had anything to do with your father’s death at Umberto’s, Tony. Everyone knows it was Salvatore DeLongo who ordered that hit. A hit he paid for with his life as you well know. I believe you pulled the trigger.”

“DeLongo was in bed with you in the Queens sanitation rackets when my father made entreaties to use his spare trucks, double the business and split the proceeds 60/40 with DeLongo getting the big end. DeLongo jumped at it, only to double cross my father one short month later and kill him and steal his trucks with a phony legal scam. And I think it was you who put DeLongo up to it, Don Lupenzo. I just can’t prove it. Yet.”

“Be that as it may, Don Bonano, you are dodging the issue. Will you release the girl within two hours or not?”

“I will not. And I would ask you to convene a meeting with all the families so I can explain myself in this matter. They should know how the bad blood between us will make them all suffer because you cannot control your emotions and do business in a reasonable way.”

“Such a meeting will take time to arrange, Tony. You know that. This is nothing but another stall, Don Bonano, and I am finished putting up with them!”

“If you will not convene a meeting called for by a family head, no matter how new he may be, you will be setting a bad precedent, Don Lupenzo. You are the capo of record. Don Zombrano will be very unhappy to hear you have declined such a request.”

“I did not say I would not convene a meeting. I just said that it was a stall. My deadline still stands, meeting or not, Tony! No girl, no respect, no peace for you, no easy nights, no families on your side to shelter you. I will see to that. I will be watching the news to see your answer, Tony.”

And Gino had then hung up on Tony. It may not have been the best way to play it. Another day here or there would not make a difference. What did make a difference was how disrespectful Tony had been to him with his lies and his stallings. He could not let it stand a moment longer. Even if what Tony had said about DeLongo ordering the hit under his guidance had been true. The Queens contract and the Bonano trucks had made Gino Lupenzo’s bones in the mob. And he’d allowed DeLongo to be whacked by Tony Bonano a mere week after Tony had seen his own father riddled with bullets while taking dinner at Umberto’s Clam House in Little Italy. Hell, Tony killing Sal DeLongo had helped consolidate Gino’s control of the DeLongo/Lupenzo family.

Gino had heard that Tony had been in the john peeing at the time of the hit, a young man in his early 20's just making his place in the world of the Mafia. Gino was gravely pissed that the hit had missed the younger Bonano, taking out his father and wounding Carmine Vega with whom Mario Bonano had been sharing a large bowl of calamare at the time. After the hit, Carmine had apparently taken Tony under his wing and the two of them had been a thorn in Gino’s side off an on over the past eight years. Well, if Tony would not release the super heroine, Gino would have to go after them and put an end to their nuisance once and for all. He’d clean it up and the families would appreciate the trouble he’d removed by taking care of this hothead young punk and his foolish mentor. A pity, too, since Gino actually liked Carmine. His presence at Mario Bonano’s death table had been nothing but bad luck for Carmine.


* * *


“That could have gone a little better,” Carmine says with a grim frown, settling back in his chair with a sigh.

“It went pretty much as I expected it to,” Tony replies, “Except for the part about Poppa. That was a low blow from that cocksucker and I should never have responded to it. I tipped my hand on that and it could come back to bite me. Gino won’t relax now that he knows I think he killed Poppa. That was a bad mistake on my part. But the rest of it played pretty much like I thought it would.

“You actually want a war, Tony? Were you trying for this all along for vengeance against Gino?”

“Actually, no, Carmine, I don’t want a war but I think it was inevitable between Gino and me.”

“There are a lot of other people around who are going to have to pay for your bad blood with Gino if he comes at us with both barrels, Tony. Your soldiers, your friends and your family could all end up paying for your dad’s death. It doesn’t have to be this way. Why won’t you let the girl go, anyway? She’s played out. How much more can you make from her in DVD’s. She’s just a crack whore now anyway. You did to her exactly what you said you would the day you captured her. And now she’s on a downhill slide to crack hell that you pushed her toward. What’s to gain by keeping her and pissing off Gino? You were going to let her go just a few days ago anyway.”

“Let’s just say I got a bigger picture in mind for her than when I first came up with this whole plan.”

“You wanna let me in on it?”

“It’s a modification of my original thinking. Let’s just say that I’m just enlarging the scope of her training and using her full talents.”

“What the fuck does that mean? And is it worth the risk against all that Gino can bring down on us?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Tony nods with the hint of a smirk. “Just think of it Carmine. The most powerful girl on the planet willingly robbed a bank for us. Well, tried to. What else do you think she might be willing to do with the right motivation?”

“I don’t know. She’s got moral codes she won’t break.”

“Yeah, well, I think Supergirl’s skating on very thin ice there, Carmine, but we’ll see.”


* * *


Just after three o’clock on Sunday afternoon Wonder Woman wakes up slowly, sluggishly thick in her thinking and weak from the lack of food for the past day or so. She’d refused the food on Stevie’s tray and now is feeling foolish for doing so. She would need every ounce of her strength to fight back against the heroin they were constantly injecting into her.

She shivers slightly in her complete nakedness even though the room is set to a warm 74 degrees. She frowns in frustration at her predicament. It wasn’t the nakedness, the loss of her costume or the fact that she was currently bound hand and foot to four corners of a bed. She’d suffered such indignities before in the world of men. Too often if she cared to put much thought to it as her brain gets into gear now. No, it was the drugs and the loss of control they represented that was new and disturbing to her. Indeed, she still feels a sore redness on her buttocks from laying in her own urine for too long at some point. That sensation was just one of many that was creating a bubbling spring of fear deep within her. The memories of being taken by Sergei when bound to the wooden pole and enjoying the thrill of her sexual arousal despite all the humiliation involved was just one of many control issues that was filling her with dread. At some point, these men would stop giving her heroin and expect her to behave how they wanted. She knew that was coming and she had no illusions that it would be the test that defined her heroic character. She did not feel strong inside about how she would fare. Not in the least.

As if on cue, the doorknob turns with the smallest click of metal and a beaming Sergei enters the room. He is not carrying a tray of any kind but he could have the syringe in the pocket of his pale blue sweater jacket. Am I already hoping the syringe is there? That is not good.

“Good afternoon, Wonder Bush. How goes it today?”

“If you have come for an autograph, I don’t have a pen on me.”

“Ah yes, the famous Wonder Woman spirit. So strong willed. So defiant. Such a pleasure to be crushing.”

“There is that Russian charm I have come to expect.”

“You have perhaps thought me to be bringing you your fix, my beauty?”

“That has been the program so far.”

“It has been fun, nyet? All these free drugs taking you to the moon and back.”

“I must really be racking up the frequent flyer miles, I am sure. When do I get to cash them in for a free trip to Venus?”

“Not Venus. You will be going to Hell, I’m afraid,” Sergei says, shaking his head in mock sadness.

“You must mean Hades. I have been there. In fact, I crossed the River Styx to bring back a friend. I had to make a deal with whom you would call the Devil to get her back. So you can believe me when I tell you, Sergei, that you are very small change compared to whom I’ve gone up against.”

“Whom? Always the proper language used. But not so proper when your mind is to be turning to mush by this Istanbul Express though, is it, my prize?”

“Is to be turning? Are we talking past or present. I can never parse your fractured English, you syntactic Neanderthal.”

“Past tense, Wonder Woman. No more drugs for you. The earth is rushing up fast and the fall will damage your soul. In fact you may well be in Hell or Hades as you say, before the sun has set.”

“Wow. That was a veritable blender of mixed metaphors, Sergie, you rascal. Better be careful or you’ll throw out your back trying to scare me with such heavy, convoluted and badly belabored threats.”

“You will get yours and I will have the pleasure of giving it to you.”

“Stilted yet unconvincing. Would you care to try for a maniacal laugh. I’m sure that always freezes the blood of the naive waifs you’ve terrorized in the past.”

Growling, Sergei moves forward four quick steps in a flash and punches Wonder Woman hard right in the center of her chest, pushing apart her breasts and sending them through quakes of wobbling vibrations. After catching her breath for a moment, Wonder Woman looks straight at the Russian mobster with a wry grin.

“Or there’s that approach.”

Spinning on his heel, a furious Sergei stalks out of the room and Diana can’t help but smile at her small victory. She still had some control. She just didn’t know for how long.


* * *


“We’d better put men around all our places, Carmine,” advises Tony. “I’m not giving up Supergirl and I don’t think Don Lupenzo is going to wait until tomorrow night to see if I’m telling the truth about the raid here.”

“I’ll make the call, Ton. You were on the level about that?”

“I got the news today, oh boy!” Tony lilts out in his best Beatles imitation. “My good friend Captain Ryan O’Donnell of the Bronx South Station House came by personally this morning to clue me in. Very nice of him considering the pressure he’s under to solve this Supergirl thing. And the fact I toss him 90 grand a year to keep me informed of exactly this type of information. At the time I met with him I could honestly tell him that Supergirl was definitely not being kept here. Now, not so much. We’ll have to move her by tomorrow night. I guess to Brooklyn. What do you think?”

“Move her how? She’s hotter than a fat menopausal mama in steam bath. Not exactly inconspicuous.”

“Thanks for the visual, Carmine! Now I’ve got to carry that around in my head all day. Look, we crate her up the same way we moved her out of Brooklyn. I have to do all the thinking around here?”

“Sorry, Ton. You’re right. This thing with Gino has got me shook. I’m back on my game starting now. We’ll have to move Wonder Woman, too, of course.”

“Right. Hey, is Stevie done with his editing yet? I think we may need him to manage the move. The kid’s good and thinks on his feet. I’m not sure we’ll need that but I’d trust him out there if things get hinky.”

“I’ll give him a call.” As he’s dialing, Carmine adds “You know we’re sitting on millions of dollars with these Wonder Woman DVDs, right?”

“You’re telling me? Over 100 mil easy. I just have to figure a way to separate her series from the SG series or else....”

Carmine holds up his finger to hold Tony’s thought. “Stevie, how’s it going? You got much left to edit on the WW stuff? Really, that’s good news. He’s done,” Carmine says to Tony. “Yeah, we’re still trying to figure that one out. Look come down to Tony’s apartment, we got other fish to fry at the moment anyway. Yeah, I know. I’ll see you down here in a few minutes.” Carmine snaps his phone shut and looks at Tony.

“Kid’s fried. He’s been editing almost non-stop for two days, give or take a few hours here and there.”

“Too fried to handle this?”

“We don’t have to move them until tomorrow morning, unless you think the cops are going to jump early.”

“O’Donnell wouldn’t do that to me,” Tony shakes his head, “A: he needs the money and B: he knows I’d whack him if he poisoned the well like that.”

“Then Stevie’ll be fine in the morning. I’ll handle it, Ton. Not to worry.”

“Thanks, Carmine. I’m going to go up and check on the girls. Make sure everyone is playing nice up there.”

“What? You think Sergei is gonna fuck one of them?”

“Or both of them,” Tony muses.

“Maybe the girls are getting it on, who knows?” Carmine’s eyebrows hitch up in rude delight at this thought.

“Carmine!” Tony looks at him with a growing smile. “You’re a fucking genius!”

“Oh, goddam. Now what are you thinkin’, you sick fuck?”

“Hey, it’s your idea. It’s almost time to put our friend Wonder Woman to the test about what she’ll do for a fix. I couldn’t figure out a good gateway act that would get her past her resistance.” Tony chuckles loudly. “But thank’s to you, I’ve got it! I’m gonna tell her she has to give a nice long tongue bath to Supergirl. Turnabout is fair play right? Little Kara broke Wonder Woman out of her stoic trance with a little rug chewing. I say it’s time Diana got to return the favor!”

“That will be one hot selling DVD!” Carmine blows out a deep breath just thinking about it. “In costume, of course.”

“The fans would demand it. Certainly at the outset anyway.” Now Tony’s eyebrows are the ones riding up. “This whole terrorist idea of mine is screwing up the release of this series. I wish I never thought of it.”

“Actually, the terrorist thing bought us time for a while but it ratcheted up the pressure that is bringing the cops down on us. Meanwhile Supergirl ratting out the Mob with her little poor little me act at the bank has added more pressure. If we release the Wonder Woman DVD series, it would tie that Amazon right back to us and that makes Gino’s case to families a done deal. Locked and racked. We’d be fish in a barrel, Tony, with open season from every family out there. We have to separate ourselves from that DVD series somehow or we’re toast if we release it. The style’s too similar. Nobody’s gonna buy the idea that terrorists are producing Wonder Woman DVDs that look just like ours. Besides, we’re all in the Supergirl scenes and the Wonder Woman scenes too. It would take far too much money and work to disguise us.”

“Money’s not an issue. Not with what this series could rake in. And it’s not all us. The scene with Don what’s-his-name from Jersey is hot and we don’t give a fuck about him. Still, all the other connections to us are deal breakers. It’ll take a little more time for me to work this out. But have no fear, I’ll come up with something.”

“You just keep thinkin’, Butch. That’s what you’re good at.”

“Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. A classic movie, Carmine. Good quote. Welcome back.”

“Nice to be here,” Carmine answers with a rare grin.


* * *


A dazed and drooling Maid of Steel lounges on the plush leather sofa with a blithe unawareness of just how low she has sunk. Befuddled by the full crack pipe she has smoked of some of the purest grade merchandise ever seen in the U.S., the famous blonde heroine is stretched out lengthwise on the beige leather with her head on the arm cushion and her knees akimbo. Her hand is deep within her now damp cum-stained panties, still resting there against her crotch as she luxuriates in the glow of her third orgasm. Beneath the shiny red fabric, her fingers twitch and tremble as she mindlessly diddles herself, blearily trying for a fourth climax. Her personal record is eight but that was with an alien from a remote planet with such remarkable physiology that contact with every orifice was achieved simultaneously in an insistent and uncompromising manner that still gives young Kara goosebumps and fantasies on lonely winter nights.

Off in the kitchenette, Sergei is munching on a ham sandwich and reading the New York Post.. There’s still follow-up stories about the Supergirl bank heist from the manager and daughter to the witnesses to the second robbery team and their journey through New York’s justice system.



The elevator chimes softly and Sergei looks up to see Tony walking into the living room. He sees the torpid state of the disheveled Maid of Steel, glances over at Sergei who shrugs as if to say, this is your creation and goes back to reading the Post.

“Okay, Supergirl. Play time is over,” Tony walks over to the couch and takes the nodding heroine by the arm and lifts her off the couch. “You’ve had your fun. I suggest it’s time for you to clean up your act. Look at you, you’re pathetic. You are masturbating in front of a man without thinking twice about it. Your costume is outright disgusting and,” leaning forward slightly, Tony sniffs her pointedly, “ you smell like three-day old cheese.”

“...tunny...my old friend...good to see you....come to fuck your famous heroine hostage....”

“Not this way. Nope. Let’s go, Linda. I’m yanking you from whatever game you’re playing and sending you to the showers.”

“...but...i’m...not...done...doing...me....”

“Oh yeah you are. You’ve rounded all the bases, more than once it looks like. Game’s called on account of psychic darkness in your soul.”

“...you put it there..” the famous heroine whines grumpily as she is hustled down the hall by Tony and into the bathroom. He sits her down on the closed toilet seat and tells her to stay as he reaches in and turns on the shower, holding his hand underneath to gauge the water temperature. Nodding dumbly on the throne, the beautiful teenager’s head leans forward and her forehead rests against Tony’s thigh. This small jolt knocks her out of her doldrums and she looks up at her frowning captor with an awkwardly managed wink and batting of her eyes that looks more like a nasty tic than anything alluring.

“...hey dere sailor... wanna get lucky... with uh superhero?”

“Charming. Maybe later, after I can stand the smell of you. Upsy daisy.”

“NO, Wait!” Supergirl swipes out with her hand and her fingernails rake the back of Tony’s hand, drawing three small lines in his flesh like a cat clawing.

“Ow, shit, that hurts,” Tony yelps drawing his hand back in pain. Thank god she still had the glowing green choker on or his hand would be cut to ribbons.

“..you...said....you promised... I’d get two pipes.....of crack... for dune that three-way thingy with Sergie and Carmie and you.”

“What you’re not high enough?”

“...promised...” pouts the addled blonde champion, her energies depleting now.

“After the shower, you can have another pipe. I would have thought Sergei would have already given it to you.”

“...was too busy....with...myself....” she says with a small blush.

“After the shower,” Tony repeats. “You’ll get your second pipe then. I promise. Now take off your boots.”

“...kay...” She agrees.

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled.” Tony lifts up the teenage girl by her biceps and hoists her over the edge of the tub into the shower. It pours down on her head and drenches her brightly colored costume completely, turning it nearly transparent. Her incredible body, though thinner from the crack abuse and all she’s been through is still a magnificent sight. The clinging shiny material accents every luscious curve and dimple. And yet the famous heroine stands beneath the pin-points of spraying water showering her from head to toe and simply remains there with her full breasts and her upright sensitized nipples poking adamantly through the material and her hands hanging limply at her sides. She looks out from beneath the cone of water drenching her and simply says, “It’s wet!”

“Of course it’s wet, it’s a show...oh, the hell with this,” Tony quickly strips off all clothes down to his midnight blue gleaming silk boxer shorts, climbs into the tub with the still inert Maid of Steel.

“Let’s clean you up.”

“...please...” she responds, heavily dulled by the drugs.

Tony takes a bottle of lemon-scented body wash and begins to lather up the beautiful girl. He is very thorough with her, spreading thick suds all over body in every possible nook and cranny. His hands rub her down everywhere, palming brusquely between her thighs, smoothing the lather along her forearms, squeaking her ear lobes between his fingers, circling her breasts with wide sweeping passes of his palms, pressing his hand down into her panties and rubbing down her crotch and anus with slow heavy circles that cause Supergirl’s eyes to flutter as her head drops back on her shoulders. His own excitement is obvious by the tented silk boxers clearly displaying every curve, every vein, every indentation of his manhood. When he finishes cleaning inside her underpants, Tony then cleans her shins, kneeling at her feet to do so. He even caresses the soap between her toes and she holds his wet head close to her belly as he finishes up the full washdown.

“All done,” he says, starting to rise. Supergirl pushes down on his shoulders though and then takes his head back in her hands and presses his face against her pubic mound.

“More,” she pleads huskily.

Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Tony begins to lick at Supergirl’s labia and she shudders and moans with delight and anticipation. His tongue swipes up and down in fast fluid motions and then probes deeper within her sex. His tongue outlines her vagina like an artistic study of the female flower, noting every crease and every sinew of flesh. And she hugs his head tighter and implores him onward with soft moans and many a whimpered ‘yes’ as he tends to her needs and builds her desires. And then he finds her clitoris and she jerks her hips with joy, releasing his head as she clings to the shower wall and steadies herself in the swaying daze of his flipping, eager tongue. And then, there are fingers which poke and probe and caress and stroke in heady concert with his tongue. And the heroine is helpless again. Ecstatically so as her head drops back to the tile with a soft thump and she melts in his enfolding arms around her trembling hips. It is all far too much and Supergirl chokes out a thrilled gasp and collapses over him, draped like a bright red and blue ornament across his shoulders, her hands rubbing wide strokes against his back as she whimpers and cries with delight and exhaustion from his lovely, lovely work.

After a moment, when her head clears, the bright-eyed blonde reaches up and turns off the shower. She then lies down on the floor of the tub and curls her head between Tony’s thighs and for the second time that day, takes his cock in her mouth. This time with a genuine eagerness that is borne of more than the afterglow of the crack cocaine. At least she feels that way. With an eagerness she explores the ridges and curves of his penis the way he studied her sex and his hardness fills her with desire even as he loses himself to his passion. Together, as one thought, they stand in the tub and lifting the most beautiful body he’s ever seen or had onto his hips, he thrusts himself into her and she settles down on his hard tool and together they rock and swivel, thrust and meld until the brightness is all and they cling in unison to the sound of their heartbeats.

“I’m yours,” she says.

“I know,” he replies. “You have been for some time,” he jests offhandedly.

“Not like this,” she says earnestly, kissing him and wrapping herself tighter around him so she feels him on every possible surface of her body, from the insides of her thighs to the tickling of his hairs on the back of her wrists as she holds his head against her chest. She savors the feel of his breath on the slickness of her breasts as she buries his face to her chest and crushes him to her in an act of complete possession that belies who is the possessor and whom the possessed.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Big Changes All Around
Part 47


Edgar Bluchak hung up the wall phone in the dimly-lit bar with a grunt and a half-smile. The smile pushed his cheek scar sideways into a sweaty fold of a long-lost dimple that used to attract the girls when he was a lot younger. That dimple was the last vestige of the carefree days before his marriage and before the ugly unavoidable line in his face that his wife Rita gave him in an ugly kitchen fight one day. It was the day her crazed behavior and penchant for cocaine accelerated into overdrive, sending Edgar’s life down the toilet.

It had been an unusually hot September day and it had nearly killed him. It certainly stopped his promotions in the sales department of a New York fashion house. It turned out that buyers of silk blouses didn’t purchase nearly the same volume of goods from a man with a scar who made them nervous. They wouldn’t let him linger and finesse them and let themselves be talked into trying a new clothing line by a man that looked scary and dangerous and made them tense, even though he had a baby face. The angry line in the middle of that pretty cheek made them sick and quick to send him packing with apologetic yet hasty comments like “Not this month, Edgar” and “Maybe next time but we’re real busy today, Ed.”

So, after the promotions stopped and the layoffs started and his salesmanship tanked, the embittered Edgar had fallen hard and long for three long years. Bottom was here in the Top Hat Bar in one of the ugliest sections of New York’s underbelly. And nowadays Edgar was satisfied to keep a low profile, tend bar and go to fuck films when the inner pressures built up too high. Rita was his ex-wife now and making his life miserable with lawyers looking for money he no longer had. Fuck, the woman had scarred him and yet came after him with lawyers!

But this phone call from Carmine Vega sounded like his quiet little stifling life was going to change and change big time. Carmine was pleased with Edgar and how he’d helped him out. And Carmine said he wanted to help out Edgar. He’d never said exactly what Edgar had helped him out with but it must have been very important to him because the big Italian mobster had asked Edgar for the name of the Top Hat’s owner and a phone number. He told Edgar that he was going to buy the Top Hat and fix it up nice so people wouldn’t be afraid of catching a disease when they came in for a drink. Edgar would be the manager, bartender and whatever other hat he felt like wearing.

And Carmine had said that Edgar was going to take Joey Target’s place as the local distributor of crack. This would be much better stuff than the shit Joey sold, Carmine assured him. When Edgar protested that he didn’t want trouble from the cops, Carmine assured him that he wouldn’t be hassled in the least. Carmine would fix everything. Edgar would be making real money between his cocaine sales and new responsibilities in the newly refurbished bar. Carmine told him to start thinking of a better name than Top Hat which sounded like something out of a bad 1950s detective flick.

When Edgar asked why Joey Target was giving up his “dealership,” the wry turn of phrase drew a chuckle and a moment of silence from the big Italian at the other end of the line.

“He chose an early retirement package, Edgar. And those type of questions are best not asked in the future. Capece?”

“Sorry Carmine. It won’t happen again.”

“No problem, Ed. You don’t mind I call you that I hope. Edgar sounds too squishy to me, ya’ know.”

“Anything short of Scarface I don’t have a problem with Carmine.”

“Hey don’t knock it,” Carmine chuckled again. “That name made Al Pacino a lot of money.”

“Nevertheless, as good as that movie was, I can live without the name,” Edgar stayed his ground. You had to stop nicknames before they caught hold.

“Understood, Ed. We’re going to get along fine you and me. I got a good feelin’ about you. You got balls and discretion. Those two attributes go a long way with me. Anyway, I’ll contact this guy and make him an offer on the bar and let you know what happens.”

“Thanks a lot, Carmine.”

“No, thank you, Ed. You saved my bacon and I remember those who do right by me. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Edgar knew he had a tiger by the tail with Carmine. But if he held on, he might be pulled right back into a life that was worth living again. It was probably time he started that diet he’d been putting off for the past six months. Shed some pounds, get back in shape, start feeling better about everything. And if Carmine was as good as his word, he might even shed the dead weight that was his ex-wife. That would lighten his load considerably. Edgar stood there with his palms on the smooth surface of the bar, savoring the prospect of not having to worry about Rita and her lawyers ever again.


* * *


Not far away on the same beautiful autumn Sunday evening, Supergirl is stretched out on the beige leather sofa in her suite in The Pleasure Dome, drifting in a mindless blur. Her body is now clad, at Tony’s urging, in a tight silky pink “Hello Kitty” camisole with spaghetti straps, tight white leather hotpants and pink silk slippers. The blonde teenager is trying to recapture the energy that the last day and a half had drained away from her. However, between the kryptonite choker around her neck draining her superpowers and her head numbed into dizzy incoherence by her second helping of the crack pipe sitting on the coffee table beside her, her beautiful body wasn’t revitalizing nearly as quickly as it could. Two minutes without the choker would have her at full strength. Instead, she lies there on the couch in a lethargic, tired and confused state. Just the way Tony wanted her. For now

The tall Italian mob boss is eating a simple dinner of a ham sandwich on rye bread and a classic New York delicatessen-style kosher pickle at the kitchen table with Sergei. The two of them chat softly in murmurs that the powerless heroine is too weak and far too disoriented to hear or understand.

“You and Stevie will be moving her and Wonder Woman tomorrow morning. I don’t want them anywhere near here when tomorrow night’s raid hits,” Tony tells Sergei, filling in the details of the coming police search with his second lieutenant. “O’Donnell said he planned to be thorough. Don’t get in his way. Or the Feds.’ Let them do whatever they’re going to do. I don’t want heroics on anyone’s part. Anything breaks, it breaks. It’s just property. That’s why I have insurance. I don’t want anybody hurt during this fuckover. My people or theirs.”

Tony takes a large bite out of the soft rye bread, then speaks through his chewing. “Keep your Russian pride in check. Let them have the run of the place. They can’t hurt us. Got it?”

“Clear as crystal, Tony. Not to worry. You are not going to be here during this raid?”

“I don’t need the publicity,” Tony says snapping off a bite of the tartly delicious pickle. “As it is, my name will be all over the news with it. I’m sure the press will be invited for this photo op. I don’t want to give Don Lupenzo any more ammunition with the families than he already has.” Tony finishes his meal with a long draining gulp of his glass of ginger ale

“This is true,” Sergei nods.

“So, how’s the Amazon handling the withdrawal so far?” Tony asks this after wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin and folding it neatly in quarters as Sergei talks.

“Too well,” Sergei scowls. “I checked in on her about six o’clock. She has the constitution of a horse. It is early yet in the process. That was nearly six hours without any smack.. Naturally there is some sweating and a groan now and then from her stomach cramps, because the drug was so powerful, but she still has her spirit. Fucking bitch.”

“What is it with her and you? She’s getting under your skin, Sergei. I can’t afford mistakes here, you know.” Tony fixes his cold eyes on Sergei. Bonano’s jaw tightens as he hears the Russian’s response.

“I have broken her, Tony, but she does not remain broken. This is to me a new experience. Not a pleasant one.”

“What’s the matter? You don’t like a challenge now and then? Not everyone is a pushover, Sergei! Listen, I need your ‘A’ game on this! She is an important part of my plan here and you have to work her as well as you did Supergirl. This is The World Series, The Superbowl and The Masters Tournament all rolled into one for me. And for you, too! So think how you’re going to get this done and get it done quick because all the marbles are on the table and I don’t want to lose a single fucking one of them. You hear me?”

“Da.” Sergei is taken aback at the sudden cold intensity in Tony’s tone. It is most unusual. At least it’s unusual to have it directed at him.

“Good, because I brought you in as my heavy hitter and so far I’ve gotten a double and a single from you. Now I need you to put one over the left field wall. Can you do it or not?”

“I can do it. Do I have restrictions?”

“No lasting scars. No permanent physical disabilities. Don’t kill her. Get her to comply in two days to virtually anything I demand of her. Those are the rules. Any problems with them?”

“Nyet!”

“We’ll get together downstairs with Stevie tomorrow morning in my apartment to talk about the arrangements for the move. Be there at ten.” Tony stands up and puts the dishes in the sink. After that he heads for the elevator. As he walks into it, he turns and faces Sergei. “I need you to hit it out of the park, Serge. Bring us all home, okay?”

“Yes, Tony Bonano. I am to be...Babe Ruth.”

“We’ll see,” Tony responds as the door slides shut and the elevator takes him down and away. Sergei picks up the cloth napkin and twists it like he’s wringing water out of it. On the couch, Supergirl sighs in her blithe indifference, her drugged insensibility. Sergei matches her sigh with his own. He then goes over to a bottom drawer of the bar unit in the living room and reaching behind a silver cocktail shaker takes out a leather pouch. It is a junkie’s typical syringe kit complete with a small rubber hose and capsules of heroin. He slowly unzips it as he walks past the drooling Supergirl sunken deeply and obliviously in the leather cushions of the sofa.. As Sergei walks slowly toward the bedroom for the third time that evening to check on the Amazon, a nasty plan forms in his mind as he makes his way through the hallway.

Behind him, Supergirl’s lips puff out with expelled air as she dreams her coke-laced dream of flying in unison with an unknown super lover. Her panties are pulled aside and the muscular hero clad in a dark blue and purple latex body suit is pumping away at her vagina under her billowing red skirt from behind her. She can hear his heavy breathing as the sun is just coming up on the blue globe’s horizon with Africa unrolling beneath them. Or is it her own breathing. She’s not sure. In any case, the blonde champion is smiling in her sleep as her leather hotpants darken slightly at the crotch.


* * *

The moment the large blonde Russian thug walks into the bedroom, he sees there is a marked difference in the naked raven-haired beauty tied down on the bed from his visit an hour and a half ago. Her body gleams with sweat and her feet are kicking and jerking at the ropes tying her to the bed. A typical withdrawal symptom, this kicking motion is why junkies through the years have called it “kicking the habit” when they go cold turkey.

It is a rare and captivating sight to see the mighty Amazon beauty groaning and twisting in the throes of her withdrawal. The powerful Istanbul Express is finally extracting its toll on Wonder Woman as her body shivers and quakes with its need for the potent drug. There is also a nasty smell permeating the air. Sergei smiles broadly for the first time in six hours.

The blue eyes of the famous Champion of All Women are dulled with misery and pain as they look up to see Sergei enter her elegant torture chamber. Seeing him, though, charges those eyes with insolent fire.

“Damn you, you Russian bastard, I will see you in chains for this vile abuse of a daughter of Themyscira!”

“Big talk from a sweaty cow who smells like a shit-filled barnyard corral. What’s the matter, Wonder Woman, did the mighty Amazon princess lose control of her bowels?”

“You want control of my body so much, you can clean up my shit, errand boy!” Diana turns her shameful case of involuntary diarrhea into as much of an asset as is possible, hurling this invective at the Russian mobster with all her bravado. But inside, she is filled with horror and dismay at the betrayal of her own body. Even now she cannot control the jerking feet, the relentless shivers and the repeated yawning that are the standard symptoms of major heroin withdrawal. As potent as the Istanbul Express had been, her withdrawal is likewise as powerful and devastating.

“Or I could just let you lie in your own crap like the festering pig you are!” Sergei is enjoying himself tremendously. But there is a job to do that Tony is counting on so he moves forward toward the gleaming naked woman shaking the bed with her convulsive jerks. “However, I have come to make a deal with you, Wonder Woman.”

“I don’t make deals with the devil,” she snaps. But a wrenching spasm of stomach cramps draws a sudden blurting groan from her that dispels all her powerful fury like a mist.

“..Aaughh...”

“But didn’t you tell me earlier, you had made a deal with the ruler of Hades? How much less of a formidable subject am I, I recall you saying. So making a deal with me, should be no big thing, princess.”

“What do you want from me, you filthy cur?”

Placing the leather shoot-up kit on the night table beside the bed, Sergei’s voice is calm and cold. “First, I am to be granted the respect owed me.” Without warning, Sergei then hauls off and punches the spreadeagled Diana in the gut with a powerful driving fist.

“GHUNNFFF!” The ropes at the four corners of the bed snap tight as Wonder Woman’s body tries to contract away from the pain of the devastating punch.

“I am not to be insulted by the likes of an inferior such as you. And a woman yet! A Wonder Whore! Do you understand me?”

“...oohhhhh......heeeeeze......uuuughhhh....gonna...be...sick....” Wonder Woman’s face goes from pale white to slightly greenish. Her cheeks expand and, unable to prevent it, she twists her face away and pukes off to the side. A small brownish-green pool of her bile spills out of her twisted mouth and seeps underneath her back on the rubber sheet that Stevie had placed under her. The sickened princess fights off a second round of nausea. Maybe it’s better I didn’t have anything to eat after all.

Diana is starting to turn her head when Sergei grabs a clump of her hair and twists her head to face him. Or rather, face the fist that is coming rapidly into her vision from the side. His knuckles connect high on her cheek, right under her left eye. Her head snaps to the right and Diana’s vision goes blurry from the blow even as a thin line of her spit arcs off in the distance.

“....huuuuunnhhhh....” The groaning heroine is no better than an inanimate punching bag the way she is helplessly bound to the bed by all four limbs.

“So the insults will stop, yes!” Sergei growls at his helpless prey before him.

“Nyet!” Wonder Woman foolishly barks back at him as she turns her head back to face him defiantly, her pride getting the best of her reason. For her insolence, a second thumping blow to her stomach blanches her face pasty white and snaps the four corner ropes tight again.

“HHOOONNFFF!” Fortunately, there’s nothing left in her gut to puke, so the only thing coming out of Wonder Woman’s mouth is a dry gag followed by a high-pitched wheezing for air that almost drowns out Serge’s contemptuous harrangue.

“Just how stupid are you, slut? Do you think you can be wining this battle of wills?”

“Not much...of a....contest......you muscle-bound....stooge....” Once again, Diana’s spirit spends energy that her body can’t cash. Without hesitation, Sergei backhands her hard enough to draw a sprinkle of blood from her scornful mouth even as her head snaps to the left this time.

“You like this game as much as me, cunt? You must be quite the masochist.”

“Guess that makes me the perfect girl a sadist like you would love to bring home to mother!”

POW!

“Unnhh!”

This punch to Wonder Woman’s chin snaps the famous heroine’s mouth shut, brings tears to her eyes and drowns her thoughts in milky white confusion. And it puts a end to all her defiance.

“Are you ready at last to listen to my deal, Wonder Woman? Or would you prefer I am tenderizing you a little more, meat?”

“...will...listen...” Wonder Woman stretches her jaw with a painful yawning. It doesn’t feel broken but the bruises on her face and body will be a gorgeous purple and green come tomorrow. And what good did all her waspish insolence do anyway?

“Good. I am wanting you to shoot up the heroin yourself. Right in your own arm. I will show you how with this kit,” Sergei says, hefting the leather case in front of her widening blue eyes. This act makes her wince from the pain caused by the earlier blow to her cheek. It drives the beating home to her senses. But this is an act she will not do. She has seen Supergirl’s horrible tumble from grace at the hands of crack. She has seen the corrosion of that beautiful soul. She will not follow her down that road. They may force her into this hellish habit but she will not take up the syringe against herself as a spike to her own heart.

“I will never do that. You will have to kill me first.”

“That can be arranged.”

“I don’t think Tony would agree with that.”

“Tony ordered me to get you to comply. ‘Whatever it takes’ is what he said.”

“You are lying.”

Sergei’s jaw tightens and Diana knows she is right. Still, the repercussions of Sergei’s anger will be brutal. But so be it. She will draw the line in the sand here. She will not bend like a palm tree on this one. The gale force wind of it will break her if she does.

“What is the difference if you inject yourself or if someone else does, whore? The effect is the same. Addiction.”

“Not by my hand, fi...Sergei.” Judgement stops Diana from calling this pig out as the filth he is. She must control her pride. The price is too high for it now.

“Bitch!” Sergei slaps the Amazon again in the face but it is a short swing without real power. It knocks her head sideways but it is only a stinging bitch slap without any true heart behind it. This confirms to Diana that she is right about Tony. For all the good it will do.

“Okay,” Sergei continues. “So you refuse to dose yourself. Fine. Then no one will and you will be cursed with more cramps, more pain and more....”

“What’s going on in here?”

Sergei turns and sees Supergirl standing in the doorway, wavering slightly, her eyes confused and then surprised and then angry in a quick flurry of emotions that the young, naive and beautiful face expresses clearly to both Sergei and Wonder Woman.

“Diana, are you alright?” A weary and confused Supergirl asks softly, her nose wrinkling from the ghastly smell of the room.

“Leave us, you pathetic crack whore,” snaps Sergei who turns back to Diana to continue his threats of her torment to come. It is a mistake.

Even with the Maid of Steel wearing a glowing green kryptonite collar and unsteady on her feet from her now quickly-retreating crack high, she hears the insult bright and clear in the quiet room. It shakes something loose inside her. Something that blossoms as heroism, as duty, and as love for her sister in combat. Her blue eyes go darker behind Sergei and she takes her hand off the door jam, steady now as the righteous anger sears the crack high away like a droplet of water on a sizzling fry pan.

“You will beg me for the drug, Wonder Woman. You will whimper and cry and plead for me to shoot it’s sweet song deep into your veins. You will not win this battle, you pathetic skank! And I will linger and caress your cheek as you fold under the weight of your need, Amazon.”

“Hey, Sergei. Caress this!” From behind the mobster, Supergirl drives a hard powerful fist into the shocked Russian’s kidney and, though she has no superpowers, the teenager from Krypton has more than enough energy and anger to drop the stunned man to the floor in a cry of pain and a following wheezy gasp of agony. Clutching his back, he writhes on the carpet even as Supergirl rushes to the ropes restraining Diana’s left arm and unties the simple knots there in seconds.

She is untying the second knot for Wonder Woman’s other arm when Sergei lurches to his feet, his shock over, his breath returned.

“You will pay dearly for....GHUUNFF!” Diana’s freed left hand buries deep into the big blonde thug’s belly and once more, he is on the floor in breathless helplessness.

Scurrying around to the naked beauty’s ankles, Supergirl unties both of Wonder Woman’s lower limbs just before Sergei rises to his knees and looks out from underneath his eyebrows with blazing hatred at the two women who are the bane of his existence. Then he calms himself. He has beaten both of them before in this very room. He can do it again. He stands up slowly and shifts sideways to lessen his attack profile and smiles at the two heroines.

Diana swings her feet quickly off the bed and stands up as straight as she can under the circumstances. She is butt naked and has no weapons. She is shaky at best from her withdrawal, but nevertheless, she smiles back at her grinning foe and then asks her blonde compatriot.

“Are you ready for this, Kara?”

“Are you?”

“I would have preferred to be wearing some clothing but then again, I can’t say your outfit exactly inspires confidence. A Hello Kitty top? Really?”

“Tony’s fashion sense for women isn’t as unerring as for himself,” Supergirl says, putting her hands up in a defensive posture and shifting sideways to face Sergei.

“Are you cunts going to talk me to death or fight?”

“We weren’t even talking to you, creep,” Supergirl snaps. “When we’re addressing you, you’ll damn well know it!”

“Big talk from a crack whore.”

“Yeah, that’s what you want to do, Sergei. Get me angry!” Supergirl’s eyes glimmer with true purpose for the first time in days. Brave talk but both women know that together, in their present state, they don’t even make up one super heroine. But both beautiful faces are grim with determination.

“Who wants to be the first to get the crap beat out of them?” Sergei says, dodging forward and back on quick feet, feinting punches and withdrawing, trying to draw out one of the famous heroines.

“Basically,” Wonder Woman says, nodding at Supergirl, and the two of them lunge forward together toward the big Russian thug, shouting in unison, “You!”

Wonder Woman goes high with a wide swinging arc of a punch for his face and Supergirl goes low with a quick nasty kick toward his crotch. Sadly, both women are hardly at their best and the two of them miss badly as Sergei spins away to the right. An overanxious Diana, hoping to score a quick knockout in her present depleted condition, finds her haymaker punch bringing her around too far with her back to Sergei. An eager but weakened Kara finds her kick missing her target completely which leaves her with her leg stretched out awkwardly and herself off balance. Sergei’s hand grabs her ankle, raises the pink slipper high in the air and delivers a thumping punch to Supergirl’s crotch.

“Ooooonnnhhhhhh!” The teenage Maid of Steel collapses forward, her ankle yanked sideways almost as an afterthought by Sergei as her body crumples upon itself in torment from the breath-stealing punch to her groin. Supergirl curls up on herself, helpless on the carpet as her hands clutch at her panties. Her bulging eyes sting with tears from the pain.

Wonder Woman decides to spin around in the same direction as her missed punch to surprise Sergei with a faster than expected reaction. But his reaction is even faster. As she completes her spin to face him, Sergei plants his shoe deep into her gut and drives his leg forward with a loud shout.

“Heeyahhh!”

“Guhhhh!” Wonder Woman is driven backward against the bed and bounces off the edge of the firm mattress. As her badly compromised body recoils, her face smacks dead into Sergei’s fist that has been snapped up at the elbow like a swinging door. All sense leaves the disabled Amazon as her body falls like fallen timber straight back onto the bed and then bounces forward in an ungainly sprawl, face forward into the carpet. Once punch each and both overmatched heroines are moaning weakly on the floor before a grinning Sergei with this hands now on his hips.

“You two are pathetic. You are calling yourselves super heroes? Not in my book!” Stepping quickly to the closet, Sergei takes out a cloth sap from a hidden shelf. Filled with small lead shot, it is put to quick and nasty purpose by the smiling Russian thug. With a hard snapping motion of his wrist, Sergei smacks the heavy bag against Supergirl’s exposed upper knee.

“YEEAAGHH!” As the teenage champion leans forward and grips her shin and clutches her leg in agony, Sergei follows up the knee shot with a sudden and efficient swipe of the heavy lead-filled bag to the back of Supergirl’s blonde head.

THWOCK! The senseless Kryptonian beauty collapses with a soft grunt onto the carpet, dispensed with easily and without complication by the skilled Russian gangster.

“Kara?” Diana’s bleeding nose gargles her voice a bit as she fights back to bleary consciousness. Her fighting skills were abysmal under her dope-deadened withdrawal and the two of them had paid dearly for her vanity. But she was damned tired of getting her ass kicked by this thug. Wonder Woman decides to play possum a bit. Not hard to do considering how groggy she was. Pretending to be barely conscious, she lets her head lag on the carpet to regain her senses to deal with a hopefully overconfident Sergei. When he walks up behind her, she figures he will drag her back to the bed and retie her. As he’s struggling with her, she’ll try an Amazon wrestling move that will surprise him and give her the upper....

CHOCCKK!

After the wide arc of the heavy sap, Wonder Woman’s chin hits the carpet and she bites her tongue. All her subtle scheming is reduced to worthless ineptitude. Her senses slide instantly into a painful black hole of oblivion as Sergei’s experience clearly trumps the heroine’s drug- muddled plans of escape.

By the time the two beauties recover their senses in the early morning, both of them will be tightly bound and gagged in preparation of their being secured within layers of bubble wrap and fitted with gas masks for their transport in nailed crates out of The Pleasure Dome and over to Tony’s Brooklyn warehouse where Supergirl had been broken months before. There Sergei will continue his plan of subjugating Wonder Woman to his will and to Tony’s. Smiling at the ease with which he has dispatched the two bumbling heroine’s, Sergei does drag Wonder Woman over to the bed as she had thought he would. Before putting her on it, he takes the rubber sheet into the bathroom, dumps the waste in the toilet and cleans it in the shower before replacing it back on the bed, still slightly damp after a vigorous, snapping shaking over the tub. He hoists the naked raven-haired Amazon back onto the bed and reties her arms and legs with much more complex knots this time.

After he completes the tie-down, Sergei smooths his hands all over the Wonder Woman’s gorgeous curving figure, gliding them slowly over her tits, her washboard stomach and her wide hips and powerful thighs. As a final indignity to the unwary champion, he thumbs her vagina, rubbing the pad of his thumb in quick small circles over the hidden clit he eagerly searches out. A small groan escapes Diana’s bleeding lips which draws an evil yet satisfied sneer from Sergei. Then, the big Russian stands up, turns, hoists Supergirl over his shoulder and marches back to the living room with her. He deposits her on the couch and rudely palms her breasts, squeezing their full softness in his palm as he quietly murmurs, “Hello Kitty.”

The ever-present cameras have recorded the rapid, humiliatingly easy conquest of two of the world’s once most powerful women. Sergei is feeling much better about himself. He also knows he has time on his side. When the Amazon awakes, she will be that much further down the road to her ruin. Her symptoms will only get worse over the next two days. He can use that to his advantage. He just has to figure out the best way to go about it.


* * *


Superman’s entire body is sore. As he lies in his confined steel tub filled to just over his pelvis with glowing kryptonite slime, he feels light-years beyond weak. He feels like every last particle of energy has been drained out of him leaving him a limp, helpless dishrag of a man. Lex Luthor’s attentions and experiments over the course of his captivity have been nasty and brutal. Each successive tinkering, prodding, insertion and ray beaming has been more humiliating than the last.

The famous Man of Steel holds no hope in his heart anymore. He barely has any curiosity. It has been pulled out of him by the evil in Luthor’s manner and his toys. In fact, Kal El has no real idea of the location of Luthor’s fortress hideout and doubts whether any of his friends knows either. Kal had been drugged and blindfolded and sealed in a lead-lined body bag during his long transport to Luthor’s lair. He could be miles below the earth or miles above it. Or situated in the middle of Times Square for all he knew. Actually, he doubted that. As he thinks on it, the only clue as to his whereabouts is the prevalent appearance of corn in his menu. Corn on the cob, niblets, creamed and popped have all made their way to his plate over the weeks of his confinement. He supposes he could be in Nebraska or Iowa or some other breadbasket state among those that made up the Great Plains of America.

The fact is, Luthor’s fortress is, indeed, located on the eastern edge of Iowa, just south of Dubuque. One of the few cities in Iowa with hills, Luthor’s fortress occupies a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. Except for the modest single story glass living quarters that can be closed with protective shutters, most of the facility is built underground to avoid drawing attention to itself. Built at no little cost, the fortresses defenses are hidden in converted sheds, out-buildings, silos and bunkers. The entire hideout is located within the confines of the Mines of Spain State Park. A very heavy investment by a double blind corporate subsidiary of Luthor Industries to the legislature ensured the permits required to build on what is normally restricted land.

The most attractive feature of the area, besides its strategic advantage of overlooking the river and Illinois across the watery expanse, are the mines themselves. They provide a rich concentration of lead to foil pesky prying eyes of Kryptonians. Building underground with an ample supply of the mineral gives Luthor a decided advantage that he has exploited to its fullest. Access to his fortress is by a little used service road and there is a rail line a mere two hundred yards away running along the bank of the great river. He even built a private station platform for deliveries of everything and anything Lex could possibly want. There is a helipad for delivery to the nearby airport of course. For the most part, the animals scurrying about the park and the tourists visiting it leave him alone. Warning signs implying extensive security and huge personal risk to trespassers keep things nice and quiet for Lex’s experiments. The latest of these is about to start.

Superman hears the familiar “kachunk” of the heavy stopper at the foot of his tub lifting up and feels the rapid draining of the noxious green slime that keeps him a defenseless pawn in Luthor’s plans. During meal breaks and other extractions, a system of hydraulic arms and pulleys lift the mighty hero out of the hinged glass domed tub, lower him into a locking titanium constriction suit around his middle torso, then lower him once again to the steel table which interlocks securely with his constriction suit. Far too weak from the slime to break away, Superman has completely given up trying to think how to escape this lock-down free time. He eats his meals slowly, sometimes with Luthor’s rambling company, sometimes alone except for the never-blinking eyes of half a dozen security cameras.

Meals and experiments and highly-scheduled recovery sessions are the only times that Kal is extracted from the enervating slime tub. And the first five minutes out of it, he is far too weak to attempt an escape. By the time he has the wherewithal to think about resistance, Kal is locked up in titanium and at Luthor’s mercy, of which the man has precious little.

As the hydraulics whine down from the ceiling this time, enclosing his throat and biceps and shins, Kal wonders what Luthor is planning to do with him right now. He’s already had dinner so it could be a recovery session. He did feel like hammered shit. But he always felt like that these days. Kal’s mental capabilities are slipping from the draining kryptonite and the ruthless experiments testing his strength, his stamina and every possible aspect of his physicality and psychological barriers. Lasers, cutting tools and vises have all been applied through the weeks, often to agonizing results and high-pitched screams that used to embarrass Kal but now were released as a matter of course. Luthor’s scientific bent barely noticed the shrieking peals of pain, interested only in the recovery time when the healing process of Kal’s amazing Kryptonian physiology took over. But lately, the recovery time from the lacerations, bruising, punctures and burns were taking longer. Kal’s system was breaking down slowly but surely. By the time Luthor was done with him, Kal was pretty certain he would be Superman in name only. The way he felt now, it couldn’t arrive too soon. Hope was the name of famous dead comedian and that was all.

After he is securely locked to the steel table in his titanium constriction suit, Superman hears a whistling Lex Luthor coming in from his laboratory. He is continuously flipping a small steel disc like a coin in the air. When he comes to the other end of the steel table and faces Kal, Lex looks delightedly at the helpless hero slowly dripping glowing green slime onto the brushed steel collecting platform. It slides down the subtle incline into a collecting tub to be circulated back in the holding tank. No kryptonite is ever wasted in Lex’s place. A prime rule he likes to announce to Kal to goad him. But the goading hasn’t worked in a week now and Luthor has stopped playing that game. Besides, there are far too many other mindfuck games he invents on the fly that are just as fun for the mad genius.

“Hey Supie, old bean. How we feeling today? Spry? Eager to share in a voyage of discovery together?”

“We going on a field trip, Lex? I could use some fresh air.”

“Sadly for you, that’s not going to happen, Kal. This is more a journey of the mind. And this little disk is your boarding pass. I just finished it and I’m dying to test it.”

“I’m your lab rat again then?”

“Same as it always was, Super Rat.”

“I don’t suppose you tested it on yourself first, just to make sure it was safe?”

“Don’t be silly, sport. It could be dangerous. You’re expendable. I’m not.”

“That’s up for debate.”

“Well, as soon as you’re finished dripping like a basted turkey, we can get started,” Lex smiles at the grimacing Man of Steel.

“Two minutes without this slime Lex. You and me. Sound like fun?”

“Sounds like desperation, pal. The strain of all this getting to you?”

“Where are we, Lex? Nebraska?”

“Yes, that’s exactly correct. Lincoln, Nebraska. Want me to text your cousin and Wonder Woman so they can come rescue you?”

“You’d love to trap them, wouldn’t you? But those two may surprise you yet, Luthor.”

“The only thing that would surprise me is if their IQs exceeded their bust measurements. Not likely, but I look forward to entertaining them both here one day. Wouldn’t you like side by side tubs with your blonde kissin’ kin, Supes? I know I would love to fuck that beautiful piece of ass again soon? Ah, good times, eh?”

“You diseased maniac!”

“That sounds familiar. Have you called me that before? Well, anyway, you’re done dripping. So let’s get started. We only have a twenty minute window before we have to get you back in your whirlpool bath.” Lex chuckles at his own joke as he walks around the table and heads directly for Superman. Stopping four feet away from the frowning hero, Lex takes a small remote out of his pocket and presses a blue button. Instantly the metal bracelets around Superman’s wrists jerk to the surface of the table, held in place by a powerful electromagnet. It’s not the first time Lex has used this tool. Superman had gotten used to wearing the polished iron wrist bands, though sometimes he yearned to snap them off so he could scratch the itchy skin beneath them.

Lex walks the remaining four feet toward Superman and grabs him by the slippery hair. Twisting his head to the side with one hand, Lex then sticks the disk against the back of the struggling hero’s head.

“Here? No, I think a bit more to the left. There!” Lex presses the raised button on the small disk and a set of micro-claws extend and securely grip the hairs on the back left side of Superman’s head. Too light to even feel, the disk remains embedded within the dark locks of Superman’s head as Lex withdraws his hand and himself away from his frowning captive.

“What sick experiment are you running now, Luthor?”

“I’ve come up with a new pleasure device that makes my Nympho-Patch seem like a quaint relic of a by-gone era. And you know how effective they were with young Kara and Diana. But that was a chemically-based aphrodisiac. This little number is what I would call bioharmonic.. It uses specific wavelengths to stimulate the pleasure centers of one’s brain. I think it will revolutionize the sex industry. Or kill it completely. We’ll have to see about that. Shall we give it a go?”

“It’s your party, Lex. I just hope I’m around when you find out how your corrupt soul shatters in misery at the end of your life from a mind wasted on your sick need for vengeance.”

“Apparently, you mistaking me for someone with a conscience, Kal El. And we both know that’s not the way I’m wired. Can you say sociopath? I knew that you could.” Lex takes a second remote from his jacket pocket. “Now, let’s let the fun begin since, actually, it’s your party, pal!” The bald villain presses the black center button and carefully observes Superman’s reaction.

The effect is instantaneous as the blue and red clad figure jerks in his seat from a wave of unexpected pleasure flooding his mind.

“Whoahhh!” Superman gasps for breath as every hair on his body seems to stand on end from a flowing orb of energy locked onto the very heart of his pleasure center. He shakes his head to try to clear it but that merely intensifies the dizzy sensation of pure erotic bliss. Even the air currents in the room against his wet costume stimulate his libido. Superman’s penis quickly expands in his trunks, straightening and stiffening in five short delightful seconds. Lex notes the expected enlargement with a raised eyebrow. The disk was functioning beautifully. Superman groans loudly as his libido lights up under the assault of bioharmonic waves directed into his brain. Kal’s mouth goes dry with desire as his spine shimmies with joy.

“Ahhhh....stop.....this....”

“Oh, I don’t believe you really mean that, Superman. It’s quite thrilling I’m guessing. Completely irresistible pleasure on command. Who says ‘No’ to that except some stodgy fool from a past century with a misguided sense of right and wrong.”

Gasping, Superman leans forward, his eyes shut in helpless ecstacy. Only 20 seconds from start to finish and the famous champion succumbs to disk’s influence.

“OHHHHH!” Moaning loudly, Superman shoots his load in his pants, his jerking penis releasing a rush of sticky wetness that forms a dark stain on the front of his trunks.

“Well, your mouth says no but your body says yes, Superman.”

“...huuunnhhh....” The spent Man of Steel sags forward in his titanium lock-down suit, his mind awash with endorphins he cannot restrain. He shivers with joy as Luthor dials down the disk’s wave signals. “...you...bas...tard...” grunts Kal through shaky lips. He’d never experienced anything quite like that before in his life. The intense rush of pleasure had completely overwhelmed him. What would a superhero do if this thing were weaponized and launched like a projectile into someone’s head. You’d have helpless heroes and heroines falling to their knees all over the world in trembling ecstacy at the delighted whims of their enemies. Would it work on him with his powers at full peak? He had to ask. Gathering his strength, Kal opens his eyes and looks over at a smugly smiling Lex Luthor.

“If I had my powers, Luthor, this sick toy of yours wouldn’t be nearly as effective.”

“Of course it would, Superman. It’s not about superpowers, it’s about wavelengths and pleasure centers. Everyone’s got them. Now everyone can be manipulated by them. And, I’ve got another little newsflash for you, Super Spunk, it’s my belief that this little device here is capable of generating the first male multiple orgasm. Watch!”

Luthor twists the dial back up to full and Superman’s body lurches in place as his back arches and his brain is once again flooded with a bright white core of pleasure.

“GAAAHHH......don’t....i.....HUUUHHNNGG!”

The swirling pleasure within the Kryptonian’s brain blasts all reason out of him. It’s only been two and half minutes since he just ejaculated, yet the shocked Kal El feels his penis stiffen to steely hardness once more. He cannot resist the pleasure surrounding him, enveloping him with uncontainable erotic warmth.

“Ohhhhh....Raoooo!” The famous hero groans aloud and once again, lost in a flood of pleasure, Superman creams his shorts with a lesser load of sticky jizm. And once again, his head sags forward in helpless, drooling delight, his mind floating on a silver pond of erotic bliss.

“Of course, each successive ejaculation will be less productive, the male reproduction system being what it is. But you get my point, Superman. Of course, for women, well, let’s just say, they’ll be like fleshy, weak-kneed putty puppets under the influence of this little number. Can you imagine it, champ: helpless, blubbering, jerking visions of shimmying spandex-clad boobs and lolling tongues just ripe for the picking of anyone holding the controller?

“You’re demented....Luthor,” groans Kal, recovering himself slowly. He prays to Rao that Luthor won’t feel the need to show off the device’s capability a third time and his prayers are answered.

“Yes, well, true genius is rarely appreciated in its time. Now let’s get you back into your tub, after a quick hose down, shall we? Can’t have the famous Superman’s shorts all crusty and rank now, can we?”

Lex pushes the yellow button on the first controller and the slouching hero is disconnected from the steel table and hoisted in the air by his throat, arms and shins until Luthor stops the process with a sudden thumbing of the button.

“Whoops! Almost forgot to retrieve my pleasure disk. That would’ve been costly, soaking it in kryptonite slime. I’m not sure the circuits would fare well under those conditions.”

Walking over, Luthor clicks the little button and the micro-claws retract so Lex can easily pull the two-inch metal wafer out of Superman’s hair. He pushes the remote button and the hydraulics kick back into gear, lifting the drained hero out of the titanium constriction suit and over to a tiled corner with a shower nozzle. A cold jet blast of water douses the restrained champion as Luthor taunts him.

“I think I’ll have another female guest come in and give you a proper bath, Superman. It’s been at least a week since your last one and you’re beginning to smell again. But for now, it’s back to the tub for you.” The whining armature assembly lifts Superman over to the steel tub and the dejected hero is lowered into it. “While your enjoying your kryptonite slime session, Superman, maybe you can think of a name for my pleasure wafer. I haven’t been able to come up with anything catchy yet. I’d love your input.”

The curved glass cover swings down and seals against the tub rim, the tub stopper lowers with its loud “kachunk” and yet again, the thick flood of slimy green gel fills the tub and surrounds the morose Man of Steel, draining him of the tiny spark of energy he’d accumulated in the interim and filling his soul with a fresh reservoir of absolute despair.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
Abductorenmadrid
Millenium Member
Millenium Member
Posts: 1376
Joined: 11 years ago
Contact:

Nice exposition on Edgar off the bat and the set up for Sergei, a blank check of punishment, oh dear ladies! And finally, Lex, what fiendish gadget is that?!?
My avatar courtesy of https://www.deviantart.com/sleepy-comics

My current story is Supergirl V Bane


This is all the stuff I've done here but don't tell anyone about this!
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Test of Wills
Part 48-A



Stevie Frazano smiles as he knocks on the door of Tony’s apartment and steps back, bobbing and shifting his body. His rolled up denim shirt sleeves are flopping and bouncing against his plain black t-shirt and the cuffs of his khaki cargo pants are swaying back and forth. He’s got earbud headphones stuffed into his ears and he’s nodding in time with the beat of Eminem’s old hit “Cleanin’ Out My Closet.”

“I'm sorry Mama. I never meant to hurt you,” he sings along. “I never meant to make you cry. But tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet.”

The door swings open and Tony looks at the young man with a raised eyebrow and a look of dismay.

“What the fuck is this? You’re not high are you, you prick?”

“High?” Stevie shuts off the Ipod and smiles at Tony as he pulls the earbuds out and stuffs the tangle of wires into his shirt pocket. “No, Tony, I’m not high. I’m just in a good mood. I actually got a decent night’s sleep for the first time in four days.”

“Okay then, kid. Sorry. Right, I know you’ve been working like a slave on the Wonder Woman edits. Things are a bit tense these days. Sorry for snapping. I don’t know if you know what’s going on, but let me fill you. Come on in.” Tony puts his arm around Stevie’s shoulder and ushers him into the apartment. The young man was a hard worker and loyal and that went a long way with Tony.

“You want some coffee, Stevie? There’s a pot in the kitchen.”

“Thanks. Think I will if you don’t mind.”

“That’s what it’s there for. How’d the edits end up? Good?”

“Fan-fuckin’-tastic!” Stevie pours the dark brown brew three quarters of the way to the top of a thick blue mug. “They’re hot as hell and ready for duplication. Should I call our guy?” He puts three heaping teaspoons of sugar into the big mug and follows it up with white arc of cream.

“Can’t.”

“What? Why can’t I,” Stevie asks, sipping the coffee and finding it perfect. “Is there a problem with him?”

“We’re in the middle of a bit of disagreement with the families at the moment,” Tony says without the hint of the severity implied there. “Let’s just say that releasing the Wonder Woman series would be counter-productive at this time.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Stevie says quietly.


“Oh, really. It doesn’t have to be!” Tony responds, coldly furious. He ran a tight ship without being overly concerned about protocol, but he wasn’t used to having his judgement questioned by underlings. His temper, shortened by the stress of the past few days, flares quickly. “What the fuck do you know about it, Stevie? You don’t have a clue about what’s going on, so keep a lid on yourself, huh!”

Tony looks across the kitchen at the young hood dressed in loose street clothing and feels his ire rising even more. He’d never of worn an outfit like that to a meeting with a family head, even if it was his own crew chief. Things were going to hell all around him and this kid, hard worker or not, was emblematic of the situation.

“Tony, no disrespect intended, but I was just...”

“Stevie,” Carmine snaps from the living room couch. “That’s enough. Clam up, now!”

Sergei simply watches the exchange from an armchair in the living room.

“...I was just thinking out loud,” Stevie continues, undaunted, “because I had a feeling we were going to have some problems releasing a video of Wonder Woman right after the Supergirl series. And I’ve been giving it some thought.”

“Have you now?” Tony’s tone drips with sarcasm.

“The way I see it is this: The styles of camera work and microphone placement, hell, even the lighting and locations in the two series are very similar.” Stevie takes a sip of coffee as he gathers his thoughts, then continues. “Our body types are similar as well, although I digitally obscured the faces throughout. And then there’s the fact that Wonder Woman is supposed to be in the hands of terrorists.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Stevie,” Tony digs, angry that the obvious roadblocks, some of which are his own doing, are being blatantly re-stated by this young underling.

“ I can only imagine the kind of heat on us right now, so drawing more by releasing a Wonder Woman series would get the cops beating down our door, right?”

“You say anything to him about this?” Tony looks at Carmine while nodding at Stevie.

“Not a word,” Carmine replies, raising his palms toward Tony.

“Plus, the families are pissed for bringing the cops’ attention to us, too, I’m guessing,” Stevie adds.

“True enough,” Tony growls, even as he admires the kid for working it all out on his own.

“Right,” Stevie nods at Tony without fear, pressing on.“So we have to take the pressure off and put it directly on someone else, I figure.”

“There ain’t no one else, Stevie,” Carmine says sternly. “Everyone knows the mob did the Supergirl series. She said it herself at the bank heist. And, like you said, with the two series being so similar, everyone’s gonna know it’s us doin’ the Wonder Woman DVDs. We can’t get around that.”

“We actually don’t have to. What we have to do is shift everyone’s thinking 180 degrees.”

“You better explain yourself, kid,” Tony says with quiet purpose. “We’ve got a busy day in front us, you included. So we don’t have a lot of time here.”

“Wonder Woman herself is the key. Everyone thinks of her as the famous Champion of All Women. Pure. Perfect. The unblemished heroine beyond reproach. Well, everyone in this room knows that’s a load of crap!”


“Hmmph!” Sergei grunts in acknowledgment, thinking of her all-too-willing rhythmic movement to his thrusting while she was tied to the wooden pole.” Everyone looks at the Russian who actually lowers his head with embarrassment and grumbles, “Got that right.”

“The Amazon princess can be as slutty and as common as any street hooker in a cheap PVC hump-me-in-the-back-alley miniskirt,” Stevie continues. “Hell, I’ve been watching her moan and groan and grind and cum like a leaky faucet for the past four days. I know who and what this bitch is, gentlemen. What we have to do is show that side to the public. But we have to do it live first. Before the DVD series can be released.” Stevie is getting a head of steam now and the others are listening with quiet intent. “If we show the world that Wonder Woman is as much of a slut as Supergirl was in her series, no one’s going to be nearly as charged up to defend her honor or seek out retribution against us. At least, that’s what I was thinking.” Stevie sips his coffee again and waits for the reaction of his fellow Mob crew members.

Tony’s face is a study in contemplation. Carmine’s scowl lessens considerably. Sergei takes on a wolfish smile. After a minute all the men are nodding.

“Sounds like a way to go, Stevie,” Tony says thoughtfully. “A public display, huh?”

“I’m thinking sucking cock and taking it doggy-style in a big old display window right in the middle of Times Square!” Stevie’s broad grin seems to light up the room and Tony’s slowly spreads to match the kid’s own.

“Son-of-a-bitch! It just might work.” Tony exclaims happily. “But wait, she’s supposed to be held by terrorists.” His smile falters. His eyes go dark.

“And who may I ask is to be saying that terrorists don’t like to fuck? We can dress her partners as Muslim terrorists.” Sergei says from the couch. “Believe me, the things that go on in those training camps aren’t all rifle manuals and seminars like Suicide Bomb Vest 101, my friends.”

Once again, everyone looks at Sergei in shock who sticks his chin out defiantly. “Well they’re not!”

Everyone cracks up in peals of laughter at this. It goes on for a bit and the release of tension in the air is palpable.

Carmine wipes his eyes with his handkerchief after two minutes. “God, I needed that,” he says with a satisfied sigh.

“That’s exactly what Mustafa is going to say after Wondie sucks the cum out of his knob,” Stevie cracks. And everyone is back into gales of laughter once more.

When it all settles down after another couple of minutes, the men sit down to drink more coffee around the kitchen table and discuss the shipping plans for the heroines, this evening’s raid on the Pleasure Dome and the details of what’s going to go down in the coming few days with Don Lupenzo.

The situation with Lupenzo, Stevie is told by Tony, is very serious. He has to be careful when moving the girls and keep his eyes open for trouble from any direction. They all do until they can take the pressure off with Wonder Woman. And probably even beyond that.

Stevie has another idea in that regard that Tony likes. He suggests that the mob steal back Wonder Woman from the supposed terrorists in another very public display. The first one in the Times Square window is supposedly planned by the terrorists to show America that their famous heroine is nothing but a cheap whore. Their follow-up would be to keep the public demoralized. And that’s when the mob will “recapture” her for America and for their own purposes. After that, the DVD series can be released a couple of weeks later.


“Stevie,” Tony says with real gratitude as the two of them stand by a second pot of coffee brewing on the counter before them, “you’ve thought us out of a very tight spot here. It doesn’t solve all our problems, but it takes care of a lot of them. And it can lead to a financial windfall that can smooth the way considerably down the road. You will see a major bonus from all your hard work recently and from your brilliant insights. I want you to know I respect you for having the stones to speak your mind as well as having a solid plan to back it up. You’ve earned a lot of money today. And you’ve opened my eyes about your worth. So stay sharp because I need good people like you.”

“I appreciate that, Tony.”

“Hey, what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t bring along the best of my people. But just know that there’s a lot of risk out there at the moment. There’s still the release of Supergirl that I’ve refused to do after promising Don Lupenzo. So no matter what happens with Wonder Woman, Gino Lupenzo is still not likely to let up.”

“I hear you, Tony. But why not give up the blonde?”

“I’ve got a bigger picture in mind that when I started. Let’s just say the ante is higher and the table stakes are worth it.”

“You’re the boss. And I’ll back your play however you want, Tony.”

“Good lad,” he says, rubbing Stevie’s neck with fatherly pride as he steers him back to the meeting.

Back at the table with their mugs refilled, the talk turns to the raid.

“The cops will do their thing tonight, but that should be all from them for a while,” the young Mafia don says. “And while the media are still harping on Supergirl’s whereabouts, it sells advertising right, still the tone is not quite as urgent. The DVD series has helped in that regard, as our bright young Stefano has so aptly pointed out.”

The group continues to discuss the issues on their plates, noting that the terrorist capture of Wonder Woman is weeks old now and no one in the media has any leads as to where she is. Superman’s continuing disappearance is still tied to terrorists since he was taken in Bryant Park with Wonder Woman, so the pressure continues to build up there as well. Him more than either of the two women. But that ball is in Lex Luthor’s court and there’s nothing the Mob can do about that right now, if ever. Ever the loose cannon, Lex Luthor will go his own way until it suits his purpose to contact the mob. Tony doesn’t need another shipment of the Nympho Patches for at least three months.

Tony then says that he expects Superman’s, Supergirl’s and Wonder Woman’s names to be on all the search warrants waved in Carmine’s face tonight. It’s been decided that Carmine is the one who will conduct the police in their “tour” of the Pleasure Dome. Sergei and Stevie will be in Brooklyn looking after the heroines. Tony will lie low in a strip club in New Jersey and keep in contact with everyone by cell phone.

At 10:00 a.m., the meeting breaks up with everyone having their marching orders. Stevie and Sergei head for the basement to get the shipping crates ready for the two heroines, gather the gas masks and prepare everything else. After that, they’ll go to the penthouse, collect the girls and bring them by elevator to the basement.

Tony will go and clean up his office and bedroom of all items he doesn’t want the cops to find and put them in a box to be shipped to Brooklyn in the same van for safekeeping in the meantime.


Carmine heads out to gather the troops and arrange for security of every building and warehouse in which he and Tony have an interest. He’ll put all the soldiers out on the street with a general alert to be on the lookout for Don Lupenzo’s hit men. Things are going to get hairy for a while and his soldiers have to know to be prepared.

Tony stays at the doorway to his apartment in his dress slacks and pale blue work shirt, nodding goodbye as they head to the public elevators in the common hallway outside. He is thinking to himself as he sips the last of his coffee, now cool in the mug.

Not a bad meeting. I’ve got good people here. A good organization. Let’s hope Gino doesn’t fuck it up. With the Wonder Woman DVD series possible, there’s enough to go around for everyone, even that fuck Lupenzo. But he’ll get his before this is all over and done with. On papa’s honor, I swear it!


* * *


When Kara finally wakes up for the second time after Sergei had knocked her silly the night before, she has enough sense and energy now to stay conscious. While still groggy, she finds it less of an effort to take in her situation than her earlier swim up from the deep depths of her deep sleep. During the middle of the night, she’d spent a mere minute squirming and trying vainly to focus while she struggled against tight ropes, the ever-pervasive sensation of weakness from the kryptonite collar glowing around her neck and a painful throbbing in her knee and the back of her head. After a minute, an exhausting sense of despair and tiredness overwhelmed her overtaxed brain and she collapsed into unconsciousness once more.

Now, in the morning light that pours through the thick soundproof plexiglass bedroom windows, she realizes that she had been efficiently hogtied and left in her bed on her side. Her arms are trussed tightly behind her back, the insides of her wrists press against each other within multiple coils of blue nylon rope. Her ankles are tightly coiled in blue rope as well. Looking at her red boots, she realizes that she has been dressed in the familiar and despised fake Supergirl costume. It is too tight, too short and certainly too stiff and scratchy from the semen and feminine cum stains all over the panties, her chest and the back of the tacky costume clinging to her beneath the nylon rope. A foot away on the firm mattress, Wonder Woman lies still, probably unconscious, with her back to Kara. She is similarly trussed and wearing her own cheesy knock-off of her famous Amazon outfit.

“Uughh! These guys have no sense of style whatsoever!” The Maid of Steel groans as she steadily recovers her senses. “Diana, wake up, sweetie. See if you can reach the knots in my ropes and loosen them.”

“Ooohhhhhhhhhh....” Diana moans thickly and remains in place, not attempting to reach her fingers out at all yet.

“Yo! Diana? Do you hear me? Wake up, sweetie!”

“Oh...Hera....help...me....I feel....awful....!”

“Yeah, well, Sergei knocked us around like a couple of rubber bounce-back toys last night. I don’t feel great either. My neck is tight and sore and feels like the worst sunburn ever from the kryptonite collar, and my knee is...

“BBBUUULLLAAARRGGHHH!” Without another second’s warning, Wonder Woman vomits up a big brown puddle of puke on the bedspread, her mouth wide, gagging sickly. Then, nauseated by the smell of her own puke, she rolls quickly onto her back, closer to Kara. She is frantically taking deep breaths of air, trying to maintain control of her nausea.


“Ohhh....please....” the queasy heroine pants loudly, “...no more!”

“Di? What is it? What have they done to you?” Supergirl has the thinnest recollection of the talk of trying to get Wonder Woman hooked on heroine. Was it Tony and Sergei talking in the kitchen last night? She was so high from the crack at the time that it was all a blur. How long had they been dosing Diana? Was she overdosed in the middle of the night? Was Wonder Woman dying of an overdose right beside her in this bed while the famous Maid of Steel was too helpless to help her in any way?

“....with....drawal...symptoms....” moans the Amazon princess as she takes in more air to try to clear her head. Her jaw clicks loudly as she stretches her mouth wide to take in all the oxygen she can. Helpless, the raven-haired beauty begins to shake and tremble. Her body, now awake, announces its craving for the powerful drug with every ounce of its natural will. Her legs even spasm harshly, flailing sideways and striking the heels of her cheap boots against Supergirl’s calves.

“Oww!” Kara bleats in distress. The collar has drained all her mighty powers away through the night and she’s extremely weak and helpless against the mulish kick of her sick friend shivering on the bed beside her. “That really hurt!”

“...s...s....sorry....Kara!” Diana grunts through chattering teeth. The beautiful Amazon princess looks anything but regal at the moment. Her hair is pale and dry, her skin is taut and sunken at the cheeks and her costume fits poorly. Even as a shoddy imitation, it is invested with a pathetic air of sarcastic malice as it drapes loosely on the quivering frame of the miserable Themysciran, clearly demonstrating the lovely heroine’s disastrous fall from grace. Her muttered words confirm the cold truth of the moment. “I can’t control....my body...very...well....right now...”

“Try to turn over on your side again and I’ll try to work on your knots.”

“...but...the....”

“Come on, Diana, we’ve got to try this before Sergei comes back.”

“...but...the..”

“You can do it, Di! Just turn on your side and scrunch up so your wrists touch mine”

“...but Kara...the...the...”

“Are you Wonder Woman or not?” Kara tries goading her friend into action. “Turn over and let me at those knots, girl!”

“...can’t....do...it....”

A frustrated Supergirl turns on her side, her back against Diana’s right side and the blonde beauty pushes hard against Wonder Woman to help her turn on her side and reveal the knots so she can work at them.

Horrified, a weak and bleary-eyed Wonder Woman is jolted harshly and she tips onto her side and then, helplessly rolls over even more, falling face forward in an ungainly spin into the brown puddle on the bedspread. It covers her face and the smell, texture and disgust immediately sickens the famous Amazon to her core.

“Waauullkkk...Blauurgghhh!” The overwhelmed brunette champion adds a second full measure to the puddle on the bed, bathing her own face in her puke. The choked sound of the ralphing beauty is smothered by the mattress as Kara realizes the horrible mistake she has made.

“Oh, Diana! I’m soooo sorry....!”


It is exactly then that Sergei walks into the bedroom with Stevie and sees this revolting tableau before him. He puts his hands on his hips, throws his head back and lets out a huge belly laugh.

“WAH, HA, HA! Oh, that is priceless, my beauties. I could not have planned it better myself to humiliate you more!”

Behind him, Stevie is merely shaking his head. “You know,” he says, “people think that capturing superheroines is nothing but sucking, fucking, nipple twisting and sex games. They don’t realize the bloody mess that comes with beating the crap out of a hero or exposing them to their great weakness. They have no idea of the cleaning and repairs and shit work there is in handling heroes or heroines who bleed, piss themselves or worse when they’re beaten enough to incapacitate them. Really, no one has a clue about the mess involved!”

“If you are done, can we get our two charges downstairs and into their crates, please?”

“Fine. I’m carrying Supergirl. You can get Princess Upchuck there!”

Sergei’s smiling face turns serious at this, but he calmly waits as Stevie hoists the ineptly struggling Supergirl over his shoulder. As the young man heads out of the bedroom, Sergei grudgingly moves forward to grab the gagging, choking, puke-faced Amazon warrior. Taking her by her hair and a clump of fabric at the back of her shoddy fake tunic, Sergei roughly drags Wonder Woman off the bed with a jerk and a thump. With her boot toes tracing dark lines through the thick carpet, a moaning Diana is dragged into the bathroom like a sack of potatoes.

“....gghuuuhhhhh...”

Holding her head over the bathroom sink, Sergei dips a washcloth under the running tap and washes off the champion’s face. Wonder Woman’s eyes have rolled up under her lids and her slack mouth hangs opens with a thin thread of brownish drool hanging there in the light until Sergei’s swath of face cloth passes over the barely conscious woman’s mouth, cleaning her haggard face of all residue.

“Pathetic!” Sergei grunts. He turns off the tap, drops the filthy washcloth into the sink and then easily lifts Wonder Woman over his right shoulder. The rump of her sagging blue panties with their cheap sewn on stars reflects in the mirror, the flashing image presenting a rare scene of yet one more disgraceful defeat of the heavily handicapped Amazon. With strong, long strides, he walks through the suite with the limp heroine and joins Stevie in the elevator with a grumbling Supergirl over his shoulder.

“Get your hand off my crotch, you pig!”

“Oink! Oink!” Stevie mimics as he playfully squeezes the defenseless crotch of the bound Maid of Steel dangling on his shoulder. He happily fondles her genitals through the stiffened fabric, drawing a string of profanity from the blonde that draws a raised eyebrow from the Russian who is slowly caressing the wide ass of a semi-conscious Wonder Woman. Then the elevator doors slide together with a soft thump.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Test of Wills
Part 48-B



Four hours later, a mid-sized Hertz box truck carrying a team of four men inside sitting around two seven foot wooden crates carefully backs up to the loading dock of Tony’s anonymous six-story painted white brick office building and adjoining warehouse in Brooklyn. It is not an easy maneuver because the opposite side of the street has three cars double parked which leaves little room to jockey the big truck. After six adjustments, Sergei finally is able to back the truck up to the dock.


Tony’s building is located on 12th Street, about a dozen blocks away from the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel entrance. Situated in an industrial area, the building is right next to a noisy auto body shop that handily covers the sounds of whatever is going on inside Tony’s building during the day. Of course, the soundproofing in the inner rooms where Supergirl had been kept during her training prevents any sounds from reaching the outside during the cold heart of the dark nights. It is to this menacing area that the two heroines are to be brought until the raid on the Pleasure Dome is over and it is safe to return them to The Bronx.

Out of the cab of the truck, Stevie climbs down from the passenger side and Sergei from the driver’s side.

“Let’s get this done quickly,” Stevie says, pulling a heavy ring of jingling keys from his pants pocket. He walks up a small set of stairs to the loading dock door, unlocks it and heaves the large, sliding roll door upward. Counterbalanced, it groans loudly in its tracks until there’s an eight foot clearance from the raised dock floor to the bottom of the door. Stevie flips the keys to Sergei who unlocks the padlock on the truck’s back door and then lifts that rolling door. The two- men teams are carrying each crate off the truck before the truck door stops rolling up, carefully stepping over the half-foot space between the dock and the truck. They carry the crates into the shadows of the loading area in less than 18 seconds: practiced, professional and quickly flawless. Sergei closes the truck up and hops into the cab that is now blocking two cars that have come down 12th Street and have no room to squeeze through the double parked cars and the truck cab. The second car, an old battered green Nissan with an ugly brown patch on its front hood honks, the male driver annoyed at the short delay. This is New York after all.

“I am moving. I am moving,” Sergei shouts at the Nissan. “I will pull this around the corner onto 3rd Avenue and wait for the men,” he turns and calls to Stevie.

Stevie just nods, pissed that Sergei has talked at all with that Russian accent to the Nissan and then to him. Dumb mistake. You never knew what could fuck up a smooth operation. Turning, he nods to the two teams and softly says “Upstairs. Follow me” and leads them to the elevator.

On the fifth floor, Stevie watches as the two teams set down the crates and straighten up waiting for further directions.

“Thanks guys,” he says, pulling out a thick fold of bills. He peels off a trio of hundred dollar bills and hands it to the nearest man whose face brightens with a big smile. Easy money for half a day’s work. It wasn’t his business what was inside the box. Stevie goes around to the other three men, peeling off bills and handing them out to each.

“You’ll find Sergei parked on Third Avenue. Get the keys, drive back to The Bronx and return the truck. And you were never here today. Capisce?”

“Sure thing, Stevie. Never here.”

The quartet steps into the elevator and heads down. Stevie waits until he hears the machinery stop, giving time for the men to leave the building. Sergei should be back in five minutes or less. Kneeling beside one of the crates, Stevie picks up the hammer nearby and claws at the lid. There’s a squeal of a stubborn nail being yanked out of plywood and the sound repeats as Stevie works the lid off the crate with deliberate care. Just as he finishes the final corner of the crate, Sergei steps out of the elevator. He takes hold of the lid at one end and he and Stevie pull it off, wrenching out the final half inch of the final nail with a quick heave. There in the crate lies Supergirl in her phony costume, her hands now tied in front of her. A clear plastic triangular face mask is held over her nose and mouth by a tight white elastic strap. The mask is fogged with her breath, her chest rising and falling slowly as the mini-tank of knockout gas resting in the crate by her head slowly releases its cool potency into her system.

“Peaceful as a baby,” Stevie says. “Help me lift her out and get her onto the bondage table over there.”

Stevie puts the small tank feeding the gas mask onto Supergirl’s chest and the two hoods hoist the limp heroine by her armpits and ankles and carry her across the room, laying the limp form on her on her back on the padded table. It is the same table on which the world famous heroine had been broken and humiliated and reduced to the crack addict status she now holds. While she might be convinced or coerced to cooperate and not make any fuss over the next 24 hours if she were given enough crack, this was the safer way to handle things: strap her down, give her a steady supply of crack anyway and keep her quiet until the heat cooled down from the cops.

Wonder Woman, in the other crate was a different matter altogether. That was Sergei’s job. He had to break her down quickly and get the Amazon to the stage of dopey heroin-driven acceptance of her fate. Not easy but far from impossible for a man of Sergei’s talents.

After untying the knots and pulling the blue nylon rope away from her body and tossing it on the floor, Stevie says, “Strap her legs. I’ll get her arms.” Stevie slips the leather cuffs around Supergirl’s wrists, quickly threading the tongue of natural leather through the buckle while Sergei does her ankles. When they’re done, Stevie twists the vial to stop the flow of gas. He pulls the mask off carefully, pulling on the strap behind her head and pulling it away. It will be a few minutes before the gas wears off and Supergirl regains consciousness.

Looking at the skin around Supergirl’s neck, Stevie frowns deeply. It is dry and peeling and a pale yet obvious shade of bright green.

“I don’t like the looks of that!”

“What can you do? Got to keep her powers shut down.” Sergei shrugs, preoccupied with planning how he’s going to break down Wonder Woman over the course of the next day.

“I can switch her collar for something else. Hell, there’s plenty of kryptonite around here to keep her weakened. I’ll have to use a kryptonite dildo or something. Tony doesn’t want her permanently disfigured and that collar looks like it may have already left a permanent mark.”

Stevie begins pulling open drawers to look for the proper instrument he can use to replace the collar. Whips and ball gags and candy cocks all slide around the metal bottoms as he yanks open a steady succession of drawers open before slamming them shut with growing frustration.

“I know there was one in here. Marvelous Marvin I think I called it. But I don’t think that had kryptonite in it, come to think of it. I need one that is filled with...ah! Here’s something!”

Stevie holds up a clear plastic conical butt plug filled with swirling, glowing green slime.

“Jackpot,” he says, shutting the drawer with his other hand with a metallic clang.

“Fine,” Sergei states brusquely. “I will go uncrate Wonder Woman unless you are to be needing help with this blonde bitch.”

“I’m good. I’ll stuff this up her ass and she’ll be weak as a kitten. Then I’ll take off the collar and give her neck a break. Hope I’m in time.”

Sergei’s not even listening. He’s already walked over to the second crate and is working it over with the hammer claw. The sound of the squealing nails being yanked out of rough plywood almost drowns out the groaning of a slowly reviving Supergirl as Stevie pulls aside the crotch of her panties and positions the buttplug between her soft cheeks. He has opened up the lower half of the table so her legs are spread widely apart, held tightly in the leather bondage cuffs.

“...ohhhh....whuya.....doen...” Kara murmurs, her head swimming with confusion and thrumming with a very nasty headache from the knockout gas. She feels weak and sickly, something she’s never been able to get used to.

“Just making sure that the famous Supergirl doesn’t get any permanent body markings that she doesn’t want.” Stevie is kneeling down and peering between Kara’s legs to get a good read on the angle he needs to push the plug in. He’s got it.

“...whuh...ya...mean...by thh....UUUNNGHH!”

The stubby conical buttplug is roughly forced up into Supergirl’s anal cavity by a hard thrust of Stevie’s palm. It’s unique shape fills the lower cavity with a tight fit that ensures it can’t be pushed out without considerable tearing of the blonde’s butthole. It will take careful manipulation with some sort of salve to extract this device. Letting the crotch of the panties go, the elastic pulls back covering the buttplug and providing a second line of defense against it being ejected by the desperate blonde heroine.

Supergirl swoons in a dazed faint, her boots flopping apart as the double dose of kryptonite around her neck and sloshing within the dildo stuffed up her rear end take their toll. All she can do is moan weakly as the effects of the deadly green element completely incapacitate her. Walking around to the blonde champion’s head, Stevie studies the glowing green choker, seeing the tricky clasp that holds it tight. After four attempts, he finally releases it and is able to the pull the collar away from the inert teenager’s throat. He takes a small lead bag out of the top drawer. There’s a ring inside with a small oval green stone inside a slightly larger oval glass container in a bright silver setting. It could be an emerald but Stevie doubts it. He holds the ring next to Supergirl’s cheek to see if she winces from the radiation but she doesn’t. Maybe it is an emerald. Stevie drops the choker in the lead bag with the ring and seals it up, then stashes the tiny bag in one of the many pockets of his cargo pants.

“I’m going to call Tony, Sergei,” Stevie announces, “and tell him everything’s set here. I’ll be in the control room using that phone. I forgot to charge my cell phone. In fact, I guess I’ll charge it while I’m in there. I’ll be a while if you’re okay with Wondie there? How’s she look?”

“Like a sick, stupid bimbo of a superhero who has to take a dump. That about right, Wonder Slut?” Sergei is sitting on the lid he had carefully replaced on top of the crate after he had removed it. Half the crate remains open, revealing the upper half of Wonder Woman’s body. The lower half of her body is covered by the lid of the crate that now extends a yard past the end of the box. Sergei is pulling up on the torso of the lethargic, tightly bound Champion of All Women, drawing her up to a sitting position by holding onto the front of her tawdry tunic. Her hands are limp in her lap as his hands clasp the shabby gold fabric eagle tightly, his knuckles dimpling her ample breasts. He pulls her upper torso out of the crate so she is sitting upright but with a pronounced slouch. Her head wobbles on her neck like a bobble head doll and the mighty Amazon merely groans loudly as a wrenching stomach pain seizes her and she tries to bend forward. Sergei’s fist in her chest prevents this and her head rocks away, then flops backward between her shoulder blades, her mouth stretched in a grimace.

“Yeah, well, I see you have things well in hand. I’ll go call Tony.” Stevie heads into the control room leaving Sergei alone with his pretty charge.

Pulling Wonder Woman’s head up by the hair with his other hand even as he holds her in place by the fisted tunic, Sergei smiles broadly into the worn face of a suffering Diana.

“You know you could be foregoing all this unpleasant pain and indignity, Wonder Slut, if you would just agree to shoot up some more of that delightful Istanbul Express heroin. Imagine how lovely that would be feeling about now? No more cramps or uncontrollable sweats” Sergei lets go of her hair and Wonder Woman manages to keep her head up. Dully she looks in the Russian’s blue eyes with her own. His are filled with the bright gleam of conquest and evil pleasure. Hers are filled with doubt and pain. His advantage is clear and he knows it. Gently, the bearded Russian strokes Diana’s cheek as he continues to categorize the long list of symptoms she has been experiencing over the last few days. “No more desperate need to move your bowels. No more puking. No more helpless leg spasms, no more feverish all-over body shakes and no more gut-wrenching stomach spasms. It’s all gone with a little needle. What do you say, Diana? Want to shoot up?”

“...no....wun’t...do...it...”

THOOOOOMPPP!

The caressing hand has turned into a vengeance seeking missile, delivering a thundering punch between her arms right to her belly. Only Sergei’s hand holding the cheesy fabric eagle stops her face from rocketing forward. As it is, the beautiful visage that the world is familiar with as Wonder Woman’s is not one they would immediately recognize. It is blanched white, drained of all color as the mouth hangs open and her eyes bulge hugely in her screeching wheeze for air.

“So. We are to be doing this the hard way, yes? Fine. Either way, you will be asking for the needle before I am finished.”

Too frantic to fill her lungs with precious air they crave, the wheezing Amazon says nothing, her eyes wide but bulging less now. She looks at Sergei with a hate she has never experienced before. She wants him dead. She wants him to suffer in his dying. She wants him...

WHAAAAAAAPPP!

The back of Sergei’s hand sends Diana’s face around so hard she’s nearly looking directly behind her. Her cheek glows red from the devastating slap and even her nose smarts sharply. She feels a wetness on her upper lip and suspects her nose is bleeding slightly.

“You are one stupid, stubborn bitch,” Sergei growls as Diana slowly brings her head around to face him, her eyes still defiant.

WHAAAAAAAPPP!!

Knocked just as hard in the opposite direction, Wonder Woman is treated to almost the same view of the elevator behind her as moments before. She is dizzy from the hard spinning movements combined with the withdrawal symptoms wracking her body. Still she brings her head around. Dulled by the pain, the hate has been replaced by the shadow of fear.

She has no power belt here; no lasso or tiara for her defense. In fact, she was clad in a humiliatingly trashy reminder that she was a mere shadow of her former self. Still, the Amazon knows to her core that it is not the costume that makes the woman but her soul. Of course, her particular costume did have the power belt she longed to have. Two minutes with that around her waist and she’d be showing Sergei the effects of a punch that would shatter his jaw and send him to Hades so fast he’d think he’d taken a hovercraft over the Styx!


“This amuses you, bitch?” Sergei sees the glint of a smile on Diana’s face and can’t believe it. This woman had a soul of steel if not a body. She had taken his most vicious punishments over the course of his time with her and still would not break once and for all. She would yield sometimes when she was absolutely forced to by brutality or drugs or both. But afterwards, her eyes would grow defiant yet again. If he didn’t hate her so much he would admire her. But he had a job to do here. Tony and Carmine and Stevie were counting on him. And he had never let an employer or a member of his team down in his life. He wasn’t about to start now.

“I was just thinking how you would look if I had my real power belt back,” Diana admits, “instead of this cardboard replica and had the ability to land one good punch.”

“You mean a punch such as this?” Sergei says, quickly shifting backward a foot on the crate lid before he delivers a short, stunning blow to Wonder Woman’s gut.

THHOOOOOMP! CAARRRACK!

Though she’d been warned of it, this crushing punch to the stomach of a bound and defenseless Wonder Woman still manages to steal all the air out of her lungs once again. But this time Sergei has withdrawn his fist from the wrinkled golden eagle and doesn’t prevent her head from rocketing downward after the punch. Her face slams into the top of the wooden crate and there is a clear snapping sound as Wonder Woman’s nose breaks against the unyielding plywood.

“HOOOOOOOFF! OHH! OOWWWW!” Lying with her face on the plywood lid, her nose spreading a puddle of red across the rough grain of the wood, Wonder Woman can do nothing but wheeze desperately for air through her mouth and her broken nose.

“Not so humorous now, though, nyet, Wonder Sow?”

“....guulggkkk...” The groggy Amazon is choking on her blood. Wearily she lifts her head slightly and her nose drips red in a thin steady stream to the wooden lid of the crate. She spits out a clot of blood in an act of desperation to breathe better. It splatters onto Sergei’s white polo shirt. He looks down angrily at her shirt. Then he yanks roughly on her hair, pulling Diana’s head up higher so he can peer into her eyes. Pain there, of course, and a flutter of confusion. And, there still, a touch of anger yet. Remarkable. And totally unacceptable.

THHOOOOOMP! CONK! Yet again, Wonder Woman takes a driving punch in the gut from the relentless Russian and once again her face slams into the crate lid. Bowing her head at the last moment, the Amazon is able to protect her nose but her forehead cracks hard against the wood, stunning her into a haze of bewildered pain, gasping wheezes and the steady dripping blood from her nose.

“This is a fun game for you? You wish to play more?”

“....ooohhhh......nuh...dnuhhh....doh more...” Through her broken nose, Diana bends her will to fight another day. Her face still pressed against the red-stained plywood, the desperate champion asks in a husky whisper. “Whuu....dju....whant...frum mee?”

“I want you to shoot heroin into your veins, Wonder Woman. Will you do it?”

“Doh!” She barks with a rasp. “Kill me first. I refoooshh.” Her diction is completely screwed up by her broken nose.

“Well, if you’re trying to prove you have a hard head, you are doing a great job. But I think your skull may be cracking before your will does. A pity!”

THHOOOOOMP! GACHUNK!

With this last punch, the tightly trussed Diana is jolted forward so her chin snaps against the hard wooden crate top. It knocks her stupid but not unconscious. Wheezing in long, high whistling gasps that are autonomic at this point, the famous Wonder Woman’s eyes are half-lidded, dull blue replicas that perfectly match the shoddy quality of her tawdry costume. She is a pale imitation of herself at this stage of her beating. Drooling stupidly, the mighty Champion of All Women lies with her face pressed against the wooden plywood dyed red with her blood. Her nose is still dripping but more slowly now as she stares straight ahead. She doesn’t respond in the least as Sergei shifts forward so his body is closer to the stunned beauty before him. He then unzips his fly and takes his penis out of the opening of his briefs and presents it to the face of his conquered foe before him..

“Lick it, Champion. Lick it or die right here!”

And he waits for the beaten woman before him, peering at her droopy eyes for a glimpse of defiance there. Or intelligence. Or intrigue.

There is nothing. The eyes simply close all the way. And then the tongue comes out slowly and licks at the tip of the penis head before it. Slowly, but willingly, Wonder Woman begins to tickle the glans before her with her tongue as directed. Stunned and helpless, trussed and beaten, the famous Amazon princess knows deeply within her blasted thoughts that she must comply with Sergei’s demand so she can live to fight another day.

His smile is wide and beaming even as he savors the first delightful twitching of his cock as the obedient Champion of All Women favors him with long slow licks of her stretched and twisting pink tongue. Shifting his crotch forward, Sergei makes it easier for the dull-eyed, raven-haired heroine to debase herself for his pleasure.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Bad Time in Brooklyn

Part 49



The famous red and blue-clad blonde heroine stretched out on the thinly-cushioned bondage table is not feeling well at all. And she doesn’t look so good right now either. Her face is ashen and drawn. Her once beautiful blue eyes are now dulled to a flat insensibility, her eyelids heavy, the pupils drifting. Her soft young lips are slightly parted with the tongue barely poking out with slack confusion.

Her iconic blue and red costume is all wrong, too, off-color in a pathetic tawdriness that mocks the champion wearing it. The threadbare red cloth cape that hangs off the table is unraveling noticeably at the edges, stray threads everywhere. The wrinkled “S” emblem on her chest is a faded red on a pale yellow diamond background. It is stiff with pale white streaks. Her round, ample breasts are all too prominent because the shirt is at least one size too small. The nipples while not excited are still more than obvious. What’s more, the seams of the shirt are pulling apart so the soft flesh of her waist is peeking through the gaps. Supergirl’s skirt, only a slightly brighter red than the emblem, is also coated with old yellowish and pale white stains that are so stiff they crudely distort the natural drape of the thin fabric. The tacky skirt is also so short that her shiny, silky red panties are blatantly exposed. This is the brightest red of her outfit, being from her original costume. The color difference only serves to heighten the shocking indignity that such a tawdry uniform now clads such a famous champion.

Drifting in a dulled stupor on her back with her wrists and ankles tightly buckled by thick leather, Supergirl issues a long slow moan as she tries to bring her formidable willpower to bear. She has heard the meaty sound of fist hitting flesh and dull loud thumps along with cries of alarm and soft whimpers of pain. But she is so tired and confused by heavy waves of weakness and clenching pain in her rear end that she doesn’t have the strength to break the frustrating restraints.


She knows this crippling sensation all too well: kryptonite poisoning. And she has a very nasty case of it right now. This wasn’t a low-grade maintenance-level sort of uneasy tiredness going on here. This was a grinding, gut-wrenching ache type of dosing; one that drew breathy gasps and heavy wincing every half minute and sapped away every bit of her strength. It made her too sick to focus on anything for more than a half a minute or so before another wave hit. It was certainly much too severe to help the nearby moaning voice that sounds achingly familiar. As Supergirl turns her head slowly, her cheek presses against the cushion and she looks blearily off to the side. She sees a big blonde man sitting on a wooden crate. His back is to her and he is arching his back and pushing his pelvis forward. Sergei? Yes, that is his name. But what is he doing and what is he saying?

“That’s it, Princess. Run that pink tongue of yours all up and down my prick. Make me hot, Diana.”

Prick? Did he say prick? And Diana?

“Saayr....gay.....wuz...goenn...on...?” The blonde whispers hoarsely. It was an effort to even form words to talk.

“Quiet down over there, slut. Your friend and I are to be sharing quality time right now. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Di....ana......izzat...you...?”

“...Yeth, Kawa...”

SMACK!

“Did I say you could speak, Wonder Whore? Now stick out that pretty pink tongue of yours and start licking again. And pick up the pace.”

“...don’t...Sergei...Stop...this...” Kara pleads.

“Hush, davooshka!” Sergei snaps out his warning.

Supergirl can’t see Diana from where she is but Sergei’s comments tell her exactly what’s going on. She feels sick with frantic helplessness. If only she could pull her wrists out from these damn.....

“AAGHH!” Supergirl yelps from a particularly harsh spike of pain in her rear. If she could get hemorrhoids, she supposed this was what it would feel like. “...ohhhh...” she moans through clenched teeth. Then tries again. “Puh...leeze...Sergei..I...beg you...don’t....”

“STEVIE! Come in here now and please to stuff a ball gag in Supergirl’s yammering pie hole. I can’t hear myself think with all her whining!”

“...Diana...be strong...yur...a...a...Amazon....warrior....”

“Yes, a beautiful Amazon warrior who is very busy lapping up my cock sweat like a poodle right now. So she does not have time for your silliness, my little Kryptonian rag doll. STEVIE! COME NOW!”

“Kawa....on’t whuwhee...I...amb...okay...I...don’t....”

SMACK! SMACK!

Wonder Woman’s face stings from Sergei’s two hard slaps to her face, palm and backhand in quick succession.

“I am telling you one final time. No talking, bitch. Just licking! STEFANO! Where the fuck are you?”

“Take it easy. Sergei. I’m on the case!” Stevie breezes into the room and heads for the bondage table on which the helpless Maid of Steel is tightly cinched. “I was just changing over disks to be sure we capture all the wonderful new footage we’ll be getting today from our lovely two guests here. Fortunately I was turning on the equipment, saw you on the monitor and was able to catch your first act with Wonder Woman. I don’t want to pump sunshine up your skirt, Diana, but you could be hearing Oscar nomination whispers for your heart-wrenching display of shameful submission.

“...no....Diana...” mumbles Supergirl, “don’t...give in...fight back....”

“Stevie, I am losing my erection with all this talk.” He swings his arm wide and points his finger dramatically at Supergirl. “Put a cork in that one so I can put my cork in this one!”


“Well, Supergirl,” Stevie says as he circles the grimacing Maid of Steel, “you look just awful. Is that kryptonite filled-buttplug making you all sick and helpless?”

“...too...much...” She softly wheezes out . “...could die....is...not...what...Tony...wants...”

“Nice try, shortcake,” Stevie says as he opens a drawer in the table and pulls out a bright pink ball gag with black vinyl straps, “but I don’t think that’ll happen for at least and hour or so. So we’re good, right?”

With a sudden move forward, Stevie pins the blonde teen hero’s head sideways into the cushion with one hand while his other squeezes on her jaw’s pressure point, easily forcing Kara to open her mouth widely.

“AIEEYEAH!” she yelps and he immediately shoves the wide pink ball into her mouth.

“AAWWGHKK!”

He fastens the velcro strap quickly behind her head and the famous blonde champion is effectively silenced, her white teeth sinking into the smooth, wide rubber ball, her eyes wide in shock. She had been so easily dispatched! She is deeply resentful but the radiation drains much of her anger away into despair. Weakness and humiliation abound in this awful room. It is the way of the world. Tony’s world.

“And now, for your crack, honeybun,” Stevie says, taking a needle from the small locked drawer in the table that he just keyed open and pulled out. Supergirl’s eyes go wide with an odd mix of anger and thrilling anticipation. She is an addict and the sweet music of her need is a tune that makes her heart beat a little faster. Stevie squirts the tiniest bit of solution out to ensure there are no bubbles in the syringe and gently sticks the needle against a small vein on Supergirl’s pale green neck. There is definite resistance there as the skin is slowly regaining its invulnerability. Stevie calmly presses harder and the needle point suddenly disappears into the vein. With a steady slow push, the plunger sends the clear liquid on its way deep into the wide-eyed blonde’s tensed, anxious body.

Ten seconds later, Supergirl’s body goes slack, her eyelids flutter and she lets out a very long, satisfied moan. For now, very strong crack trumps the painful effects of kryptonite radiation.

“Keep the customer satisfied,” Stevie says, the Paul Simon tune drifting through his thoughts. “You know, I think I will lower the level of kryptonite in her buttplug,” Stevie says softly to himself. “She might not be faking it.”

“Do what you want,” Sergei says, turning away from the scene to look down at Wonder Woman, “The two of us can now get back to our games in peace. Where were we, Princess? Ah yes, you were licking my dick. Continue again from the beginning!”

While a defeated and cowed Wonder Woman slowly slides her tongue out to meet the wide warm head of the now flaccid penis resting on the blood-smeared plywood, Sergei reaches over to the cheap plastic tiara clasped into Wonder Woman’s hair. He pulls it out without hesitation, and strangely, the raven-haired heroine who is licking on this gangster’s penis like a willing whore is struck by a soul-searing despair. Yes, it’s a stupid fake tiara that means nothing but the very act of it bites deep into Wonder Woman’s soul. As she slowly guides her tongue along the veiny shaft of growing flesh, the willpower of the famous Champion of All Women takes a mortal wound that is expressed by a soft, choking whimper. The beating, the agonizing withdrawal pains and the knowledge that one of the most powerful beings in the universe is helplessly drugged and bound not eight feet away is taking a terrible toll on Diana’s willpower.


Sergei casually tosses the tiara on the floor, loving the power of the moment. He then reaches over to Diana’s head and runs his fingers deeply into her hair. He palms the back of her head and forces her face closer to his groin.

“A little closer, Princess. Make friends with it!”

Wonder Woman can do nothing but comply. Devastated, heartsick and nauseous from her need for heroin, the shivering beauty slowly slides her tongue around and around the fat pink head of Sergei’s cock, obediently licking away at the steadily growing member that seems to be reaching out to her like a plant bending to the light.



Over on the bondage table, a limp Supergirl is having her crotch carefully attended to by Stevie. He is carefully and gently working the buttplug out of her ass. The cylindrical handle with its bulbous knob at the end has been pulled out from the depths of Kara’s clenched ass. Only the conical end is still buried in her butt. After unscrewing the knob, Stevie slides a hand under Supergirl’s back and lifts her up slightly. The angle is just enough so the thick green slime can slowly ooze out the cylindrical handle into a small paper plate that Stevie has placed between Supergirl’s thighs. Judging about half the slime has drained out, Stevie lowers Supergirl back down and screws the knob back on the buttplug. He then pushes the sex toy deeper into the Maid of Steel’s rear, drawing a moan from the barely conscious blonde.

“There, that should keep you out of trouble without killing you,” Stevie declares. “Now let’s ratchet up the pleasure factor here. Tony wants you entertained and compliant so he said whatever makes you happy for the next 24 hours or so is just what the doctor ordered. So this doctor is ordering one very exciting dildo. Kneeling down, Stevie reaches into the bottom drawer and pulls out a monstrous dildo. He holds it up so Supergirl can see the huge sex toy.

“Look what I have for you, Supergirl: Marvelous Marvin! He’s missed you. Have you missed him?”

The palest of smiles glimmers on the heavily-doped Supergirl’s lips, twitching with their erotic synapses of pleasure from deep within her fevered brain. Even dulled to a thick-headed stupidity by the crack and the kryptonite, Supergirl still recalls the name and the affect of Marvelous Marvin. Her body shivers with anticipation that Stevie notices and smiles at.

“You have missed him. Why you little slut!”



Across the room, Sergei begins complaining angrily as he holds Wonder Woman’s head by a clump of her hair in his fist, keeping her in place as she lethargically laps at his prick.

“No, no, you dumb bitch! Faster still. You are barely keeping me erect with your shy little schoolgirl technique. Kiss it and lick it like a true whore, Wonder Woman, or your blonde friend dies. Now put that famous Amazon energy into it.”

“‘On’t ‘ave....by fabous power...belt, Sergei. Doo sick...doh enerdjee.”

“So, you’re getting cute again, huh, bitch? Clever now? I have clever for you. Watch this and learn something, skank. You will see who has the control here.”

Releasing her hair, Sergei shoves Wonder Woman backward so that her head bangs into the top edge of the plywood crate, bringing tears to her eyes, a tiny cut to her head and a dizzy befuddled look on her face as she slumps helplessly inside the box, tightly trussed with her bound hands in her lap. Dazed and weak, the shivering heroin-deprived Amazon helplessly watches Sergei with a blooming flame of fear in her heart.


Sergei strides over toward a moaning Maid of Steel laying bound and helpless on the table. Stevie has pushed the Y-shaped lower end of the table together and pulled the blonde heroine’s skirt up so it covers her waist and uncovers her panties. The young thug stands off to the side, leaning against the wall just watching Supergirl’s excitement build before him. He is savoring the unrelenting, helpless pleasure that he has engineered in her.

There is a dark vibrating bulge sticking out from the crotch of the teen’s red silk panties. The very end of the 14-inch Marvelous Marvin dildo is creating a web of crease lines that show the strain of the fabric to contain the device. Because Supergirl had not been all that excited when he pressed the wide hard pink shaft into her pussy, the dildo is not embedded into Supergirl’s vagina as deeply as it had been on the last occasion it was used. Still, the motorized hum, the steady moans and the look of complete rapture on the blonde heroine’s ball-gagged face tells Sergei all he needs to know about Supergirl’s mental status. It is nil! She is wriggling in place, her breasts rising and falling rapidly in excitement, her nipples stretching out the tight blue fabric as yet another wave of delicious arousal builds quickly within her. The crack, the kryptonite buttplug and the huge dildo have reduced the mighty teenage champion to a drooling, defenseless, jerking wreck of a girl. She is no more aware or capable of protecting herself than a newborn kitten.

Reaching into the side pocket of his sport coat, Sergei lies, “I was hoping I would not be needing this,” then pulls out a wire with two wooden dowels at the ends. He walks behind Supergirl’s head and immediately loops this tool around the throat of the whimpering blonde, pulling tight on the dowels. Just as he does this, Supergirl’s mind is overwhelmed with absolute pleasure and she clearly exhibits all the splendor of a full-bore major orgasm: her body rocks with uncontrollable spasms, drool flies off in all directions, her white teeth gnash at the rubber ball gag, the plastic heels of her cheap knock-off boots thump mindlessly within the tight leather restraints, and her head bangs against the cushioned pads as Sergei tightens the wire even more.

“GGLLGGKKK!” Supergirl chokes loudly as the thin wire cuts off her air supply.

“So, now you see how it is with you. If your blonde bosom buddy enjoys herself too much, jerks too suddenly, she might choke to death. Bad, nyet?”

“Doh!” Wonder Woman calls out in fear, her broken nose still slurring her speech. “Please don’d do id. I will do bedder. Cub back, I will do bedder!” She is crying openly. She couldn’t let Kara die through her stubborn pride. While she doubted Sergei would kill Supergirl outright, any sudden, hard jerking orgasm could do major damage with that razor thin wire around her throat.

“Yes, you will do much better. I will put my cock in your mouth. I feel any teeth on my dick, Supergirl dies, yes? You get me, Amazon whore? We have an understanding now?”

“Yes, Sergei. I will please you. Cub back here and let be do id for you.” Diana’s voice is a shaky quaver of fear, thick with blood from her nose.”

“Good, yes. Stevie, please come and take this garrotte. Keep it loose but be watchful of how Wonder Woman acts. Also, be careful every time that this famous blonde slut marks her panties with the pungent juices of her unrestrained pleasure. We do not want her to be dying unnecessarily.”

Stevie nods, pulls up a steel folding chair to the head of the table and sits down. He then takes the wood dowels in hand and waits, turning his head to look at Wonder Woman with a wide grin. “You can go to work, Wonder Woman. Supergirl’s life is in good hands.”




The famous Amazon princess is psychologically devastated. Backed into a corner by cruel, brutal tactics, her sickened body’s desperate need for heroin and Sergei’s heartless willingness to destroy such a noble creature as Kara, Diana is a lost and beaten spirit. The symbolic removal of her fake tiara, the threat to Supergirl’s life, the shame of her willing compliance to orally satisfy this beast: It all pushes the dagger so deep into the Morality of Justice as Diana sees it, that she doesn’t know or care what she will do now. Suck cock. Take it up the ass. Steal from her friends. It’s all open season on what’s right from here on out! There doesn’t seem to be any greater good worth fighting for since it’s all negotiable. Everything. Even her defiance about shooting up heroine. It’s now all on the table for discussion.

As Sergei walks back toward the slouching Amazon beauty, he sees in Kara’s eyes the look of a frightened bird that has lost its way and flown through an open window into a room where a menagerie of hungry cats prowls the floor and leaps high up the walls. Diana is this bird fluttering and flapping wildly in panic at the ceiling of this hellish room. Sergei sees this clearly in her eyes.

He sits down facing her on the plywood crate top and pulls the tightly bound heroine forward toward him, arranging her so her upper body lies across the top of the crate, her breasts smearing through the puddle of her own blood. What did it matter to her. The uniform was a cheap imitation and so, apparently now, so is she. She opens her mouth wide and Sergei edges forward, his penis now out and half erect from this wonderful power play.

“Let’s get this party started,” he beams and reaches for Wonder Woman’s head with both palms spread wide in a gathering motion that makes the nervous, cowed heroine flinch with fear.


* * *



It is just past six o’clock on Monday evening at the Pleasure Dome. The crowd is thin yet with kickoff time for the Monday Night Football game still a good two hours away. A few couples enjoy dinner in the restaurant area, trying to talk over the sound of the big screen TV set up at the end of the room. If they think this is loud, they’re not going to want to be here when the game starts and the place really starts jumping with loud drunken revelers and shrieking, laughing girls.

A couple of young black college guys are at the bar getting an early start on their beer buzz. Wearing football jerseys, one with a blue Giants Taylor and the other with a green Jets Klecko, they’re snacking on the salty popcorn in wooden bowls set before them. It’s a proven fact that popcorn, one of the cheapest snacks on the planet when not bought in movie theaters will increase the night’s liquor tab a neat 6.5 percent. The house doesn’t lose money in any phase of its operation. And if any phase doesn’t perform as expected, it goes away or changes in some way until it does perform.

The two guys are drinking draft Blue Moon beer. Up until now, they’ve been discussing the only two things that college guys really care about. Sports and pussy. That conversation wraps up for the moment. The two of them are feeling good, having made it out of the mean streets of the South Bronx, so they begin celebrating that fact by now trying to “out-hood” the other with scary tales of street danger, even though both got off lightly in their escape from the hood. Hell, neither one of them even has a scar.


“I was so pissin’ scared that time that Ernie Blount cornered me in the locker room in high school. But I wasn’t going to take any more of his shit. I was fed up, ya’ know. Shit, no jackoff dude with a thyroid condition is going to back me down, you hear me.”

“I do. I hear you.”

“I was ready to dance whatever way he came at me, you feel me?”

“I surely do. I feel you.”

Carmine glides past the two frat house fakes and surveys his territory for the twentieth time in the last forty minutes. Everything was clean as a whistle with no tricks or gimmicks in place at all. No watered beer. No card readers shadowed with capture devices to steal credit information and feed it to the storage computer upstairs. That whole setup had been disconnected hours ago and driven to Jersey by Tony in his Escalade. Likewise the two rigged slot machines and the rigged roulette wheel from the casino. Tonight, everything was going to be regular house odds and no better.

Hell, if they couldn’t make money that way, they didn’t deserve to be in business anyway. Especially with Monday Night Football tilting the take into the $75,000 range. And this was a poor neighborhood. In Atlantic City a night’s take in even a mediocre bar on the boardwalk on a Monday night in football season could rake in twice that. Of course, tonight’s raid would certainly cut that $75,000 down considerably, especially if it ran long. It was Carmine’s job tonight to make sure things went as smoothly as possible, hence, his tight facial muscles, grim demeanor and nervous prowling of his domain for the past two hours. It was anybody’s guess when the cops would show. The pool among the employees had the heaviest money on 9:25 or so, just about halftime when the heavy spending kicked into overdrive. Cops could be real dicks when they put their mind to it.

Carmine sighed and headed for the casino to talk to the pit bosses about the cordial behavior he expected from them this evening. It could be a long, hard night.


* * *


Diana’s long hard night is shifting into its own overdrive with a vengeance. Her mouth is tightly wrapped around the head of Sergei’s cock, sucking on it with powerful draws of her sunken cheeks as her now unbound hands work their slow, twisting way up and down his shaft. Still bound tightly by blue nylon rope from her waist to her ankles, the sprawled heroine lies with her head in between a seated Sergei’s widely-spread thighs as she desperately tries to please him. With so little experience at blowjobs, it is not going well for Wonder Woman, or Sergei for that matter.

“Aghh!” Sergei winces as Diana twists her hands too hard on his erection, pulling skin in places it should not go. “You are such a pathetic skank, you can’t even get me off with your hands untied,” Sergei blusters at her with frustration. “‘Oh, let me hold your penis in my hands,’ you said. ‘I will show you fireworks,’ you claimed. Well, it’s been ten minutes and you haven’t done squat, you miserable excuse for a woman. No fireworks, no sparklers, not even a fucking match flame have you lit here, bitch! Have you no man in your life who you give oral pleasure to?”

“Of course dot!” Wonder Woman’s nose continues to garble her words. “I am saving byself for marriage when the dime is right.”


“I have the deepest regrets for your unsuspecting husband, Wonder Woman. His wedding night will be a hellish surprise. Although I suppose he could always jerk off in your mighty tits. Would you let him do that, Diana. Would you at least give him the satisfaction of fucking your tits?”

“Dhat is doh bidness of yours.”

“Will you let me jerk off in your tits then, you stupid cow?”

“Doh! I would dever...” Seeing the scowl on Sergei’s face, Diana stops in mid-sentence. The Russian mobster is getting very angry and he looks at Stevie, jerking his fist sharply in a “Choke Her Now” gesture.

“Doh! Don’t hurd her! You can do id,” Diana rapidly shakes her head up and down. “You can jerk off in my breads,” she says more softly, blushing from words she never thought would come from her mouth.

“Is that a fact? Well maybe we’re getting somewhere. Why don’t you just pull down that fabric chicken covering your teats and let me get a good look at them. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”

“Uhhmmm....uhh...uhhh...uuuhhmmm......UUHMM......UUUUHHHMMMM!.”

The interruption causes both Sergei and Diana to turn and look at the source of the noise. Laying on the table in a stupefied funk, the helpless Supergirl is being overwhelmed by yet another surging wave of ecstasy that shakes her body, flings drool everywhere and further dampens the dark red crotch of her panties. The wire is now held very loosely by Stevie who had only pulled the wire slightly at Sergei’s motion a moment ago. After a thumping noisy thirty seconds, Supergirl’s body slows it frantic jerks and sags into blissful calm for now. This is her sixth orgasm. Stevie says he’s going to the refrigerator in the control room and get her some juice to keep the sweating heroine from completely dehydrating.

Waving him off to his chore, Sergei turns his attention back to Diana.

“Do not think that just because the noose is not held in Stevie’s hands that you have any kind of chance to escape here, Wonder Woman. I could be killing you six different ways before you got close enough to hurt me. Now pull down your top, then get up on your forearms and shake those massive teats so they jiggle and bounce for me!”

Lowering her eyes in shameful obedience, a world-weary, drawn Wonder Woman does a one-arm pushup, her palm flat against the plywood. Using her other hand, she grasps the stained and wrinkled golden fabric eagle and slowly pulls down her top. Her heavy breasts bob out immediately and shimmy slightly in front of a smiling Sergei. Wonder Woman merely stays in place, both elbows now locked, both palms flat against the wood.

Full and lively, Diana’s breasts never fail to draw the breath of any watching male. They are beautifully formed with large, caramel-colored nipples. Gravity seems to have ignored them as they face forward in a naturally uplifted position. Sergei licks his lips at the gorgeous pair of knockers facing him.

“Come on, beautiful. Shake ‘em up. Let me see them dance.”


Diana reluctantly gives a little shake of her upper body and the lively display of spheres in physical motion is a wonder to behold. Dancing nipples, rubber balloons at play and the soft slap of fleshy weights against each other is almost enough to get Sergei hard without laying a finger on her. But then, of course, he does; a whole hand in fact, cupped beneath her chest and lifting up her right breast. He gently plies the supple flesh with wonder, enjoying the sensation of having this marvelous creation filling his hand with its soft warmth. He puts his other hand over her left breast and fondles her slowly, teasingly. Finally looking up, he meets Diana’s eyes and sees only the expectation of pain. The fear of sudden physical abuse. Sergei finally feels he has at last subdued the Amazon. To fortify his lesson, he gives her what she expects, sliding his palms up and taking both nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. He squeezes very hard, drawing a gasp of pain.

“A little sensitive are we?”

“Doh! Djes. I don’d doh.”

Sergei moves his entire body forward on the crate lid, coming up tightly against Diana so her face is staring at his chest. Smiling now, he takes a wallet out of his pocket and withdraws a thick wad of cash. He tosses the wallet off to the side on the floor and then turns back to Wonder Woman.

“Okay, Amazon whore, now I want you to do as I am instructing you, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t get paid for servicing me. Here’s ten dollars” he says, peeling off a bill. He reaches down, pulls on the waistband of Wonder Woman’s blue-starred panties and thrusts the money deep into her panties, plastering the bill against her sweaty pelvis. He then lets the panties snap back. “Now, lower yourself down, Amazon whore, so I can slide my cock between these gorgeous teats and titty fuck you.”

Silently, the mighty Champion of All Women does as she is told. The new bill crinkles noisily as she bends her elbows and shifts her body so her breasts are directly in front of Sergei’s penis. Pale-faced, her eyes downcast, a trembling Diana prostrates herself before the big Russian mobster.

“Excellent,” Sergei chuckles. He then peels off another crisp new ten and folds it in half lengthwise. This time he pulls on the back of Wonder Woman’s costume panties, stretching them out wide and displaying the crack of her wide, wobbling ass. He slowly pushes the new bill into cleavage of the Amazon’s butt cheeks, letting the moment of humiliation linger in the air like the sound of a distant bell growing dim. Sergei lets go of the waistband and it retracts back with a dull snap.

“Now you are to push your teats together with your palms like so, da? You get it?”

Looking up at the bearded blonde Russian with his angular face and hostile eyes staring her down, Diana simply nods, mortified. She complies with his instructions compressing her large breasts together, creating a huge cleavage.

“Very nice.”

In the control room, Stevie has stopped at the monitor, the bottle of water in his hands for Supergirl. He sees the scenario of what Sergei is doing and decides to work the cameras for the best angles on this incredible tableau. Supergirl will have to wait. This is too good to miss. He puts down the water and takes charge of his equipment with practiced precision. He closes in on the massive cleavage of Wonder Woman’s chest as her palms squeeze her melons together with grim obedience. Backing off to mid-shot, Stevie captures the image of Sergei letting a large amount of spit drain out of his mouth into the cleavage.

“We are needing some lubrication, whore, and your sweaty tits are not quite enough. Be thankful I have not used your own blood for this. Now let them separate so I can put my dick between them. Oh, wait. Your money. He stuffs another ten into Wonder Woman’s lowered tunic, the new bill pasted to her sweaty back, rustling against the coarse fabric as he places it there..


“....uuuhhhnnnnnn.....ohhhhh.....aaahhhhhh......” Off to the side, a moaning Supergirl serves to remind Diana of the reason for her subservience. A surge of anger at the foolish blonde wells within her for a moment.

Diana lets go of her breasts and they flop and bounce softly against the plywood, against each other and against the flesh of Sergei’s cock. It stiffens with the effect and he shifts his pelvis forward, sliding the wide penis between the wobbling spheres.

“Could this be heaven?” Sergei jokes as he casually balls up a twenty and stuffs it into the back of Diana’s tunic. More crinkling, more shame.

Suddenly Sergei’s nose twitches and he scowls deeply.

“You have farted?”

“....yes...” a soft reply from the horrified heroine. “...deed to use duh doilet...badly...”

“This is terrible timing!”

“...sowwy....” her mumbled response.

“You must wait. Hold it in. Here is more money. Hold it in!” Sergei balls up another twenty and angrily thrusts it into the seat of Wonder Woman’s panties.

The mortification of having money stuffed into her underpants, of being paid to control her bodily functions creates a yawning cavity of despair in Diana and she begins to whimper and cry. She has never felt lower in her life. Ever. Wide silver tears drain down her cheeks. A stream of them from both eyes.

“Good! We can use the lubrication.” The heartless Russian swipes at her face and rubs the salty wetness between her tits. Then thrusts his cock between them and commands the whimpering woman to squeeze her tits together again.

Bent in half, with her torso pressed against the plywood crate lid, Wonder Woman presses her breasts together as told and Sergei begins to slide his penis up and down between the massive fleshy orbs. There is just enough lubrication to make it work.

“Mmmmmhh....” The Russian emits a low throaty moan of pleasure. “This is good. Very good.” His dick is hard and he is happy as he leans back on his arms, one palm flat against the plywood, the other fisted with cash. He picks up the pace, thrusting his hips up and down.

“Look down, slut!”

Diana looks down at her chest and sees the swollen pink tip of Sergei’s cock poking up from between her breasts. Then it disappears, sliding into the darkness of the huge cleavage. It reappears and disappears several times. The defeated Princess of Themyscira watches in dulled horror as she feels the hard sliding rod rub up and down between her lovely breasts. Breasts she treasured with great pride. Now they were mere sexual toys for a beastly, heartless man. And she was a willing partner in the act. It tears at her soul to know this and she shivers harshly with the truth burned into her memory.

Naturally, Sergei mistakes the shiver for sexual pleasure and says, “So you are getting into the fun, da?”

“Doh!” Diana denies vehemently.


“Well, you will. And now. Here.” The stern-faced Russian sits forward and takes a crisp new fifty from his diminishing stack of bills. He crumples it up slowly, deliberately in the face of the palsied, tear-stained heroin-craving champion, then pushes the balled currency into the pile of money stuffed into the seat of her panties. Stevie goes in for a closeup of the bulging wad of cash in Wonder Woman’s costume panties, then pulls back. He ups the level on the sound a bit to catch all the crinkling money and soft, shamed responses of the defeated champion laid out before Sergei like a temple offering.

“Now, Champion of All Whores, bend your head down and suck on my dick every time it appears between your teats!”

“...doh...” A horrified Diana gasps in shock. She had thought she had reached the nadir of her life. She was wrong. There were levels below here that Sergei would only be too happy to guide her through.

WHACK!

The bitch-slapped heroine’s face snaps sideways. It stings with raw pain.

“Do it!”

Tossing the rest of the bills away in a fluttering shower of drifting green paper, Sergei scowls at the Amazon princess with fiery dominance. “Stevie! I think you should be coming back now so as to remind our reluctant Amazon guest about what is at stake here.”

Setting the recording equipment on automatic and hoping for the best, Stevie quickly moves into the room, striding up to the limp blonde heroine strapped to the table. Her entire tawdry red and blue costume is soaked with sweat. The thin, damp fabric clings to her skin everywhere displaying her incredible body’s supple muscles, muscles that are pathetically weak from kryptonite poisoning. Small stray blonde strands of Supergirl’s hair are plastered to her forehead with a sheen of sweat.

Moaning and writhing with a deep sexual thrill, the flutter-eyed teenage heroine is on the verge of yet another orgasm. The looped wire with its wooden dowels still hangs around her neck, bobbing lightly. Stevie takes the wood handles in his hands and pulls the wire taut in a slow display of determination. Across the room, Diana’s eyes are locked on Stevie’s purposeful movements, the slowly spreading hands as they draw the wire tighter against Supergirl’s exposed throat.

“WHUULGGKK!” The wide-eyed blonde champion bucks and jerks in her restraints as the wire sinks into her throat and cuts off her airway.

“DOH! DON’D PULL ANYBORE! BLEASE! I’ll do id! I’ll suck yhurr cock, Sergei. Blease dell him to sdop!” Diana presses her breasts together and hurriedly thrusts them forward toward Sergei, showing complete subservience.

Stevie’s hands relax. letting the wire noose loosen. Supergirl wheezes and coughs, and then lies still for the moment. Diana is relieved. Then she lowers her eyes and looks at the penis sticking up between her breasts. Taking a slow breath to calm herself, the trembling heroine bends her neck as far as she can and takes the tip of Sergei’s dick in her mouth. Her nervous lips flutter against the edges of the penis where the head meets the shaft and the swollen muscle twitches with the sensation.

“Hnnh!” Sergei grunts with delight and he leans forward, putting both hands on the back of Wonder Woman’s head. He applies a steady force downward and the famous Amazon princess is forced to take the Russian’s cock further into her mouth than she was prepared for. She gags on it.

“Ghuullgghhkk!”


“Since you have been proving yourself incompetent at blowjobs, Wonder Woman, I am to be helping you.” Sergei lets up on the pressure and Diana withdraws her head and gasps loudly. Sergei’s dick retreats into the darkness between the Amazon’s breasts, nestled there in the warmth and the moisture. After getting her wind back, the disheveled, desperate heroine pleads for mercy.

“Blease don’d do dat. I will do id good.”

“Then stop talking and start sucking, woman. I am out of my patience.”

Sergei thrusts his hips forward and the fat penis rises up between Wonder Woman’s breasts again. The rigid, warm shaft of flesh smells heavily of her own perspiration and Sergei’s musty sweat. Protruding through the dark cleavage of her compressed tits, the top of Sergei’s shaft awaits her mouth, her compliance. She hesitates for a final moment, gearing up her resolve to do this horrible thing.

“You have been paid all you are to be getting, whore. Suck the cock! Now!”

Lowering her head, Diana takes the cock in her mouth and begins to bob her head up and down, her lips brushing back and forth against the ridge that circles the head of Sergei’s cock.

It bobs in her mouth, telling Diana she is doing something right for a change, so she continues this for a while, working her lips, plying them against the ridge as she bobs her head. After two minutes of this Wonder Woman is trying to think what else she can do. Her hands are busy pushing her breasts together so she couldn’t use them. She’s done everything with her mouth that her novice brain can think of. Maybe if she rubbed her cheek against his penis, he would like that. So she removes her mouth, turns her face sideways and begins to stroke it against the tip of Sergei’s member. She gives it two, three passes. The small drops of pre-cum smear against her cheeks leaving silvery thin trails.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing now?” Sergei is livid. The mouth work had been okay at first but then became repetitive after a minute. After three minutes it was just barely keeping him stiff.

“I am giving you a blowjob.”

“You think? I don’t! Now we do it my way. Stevie, please to come over here.”

Leaving the panting Maid of Steel to her surging libido, the young mob lieutenant walks over to the pair posed on and in the plywood crate.

“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

Sergei grasps Wonder Woman’s biceps and roughly pushes her backward so her back thumps against the back of the crate, her arms flailing outward with the force.

“Grab her arms and hold them in place.”

With them within easy reach from the force of Sergei’s shove, it is quite simple for Stevie to snatch both her wrists and pin them backward, wedging them between the side of the crate and the cold stone floor.

“Aaahh!” Wonder Woman yelps in pain at this unexpected maneuver.

Taking her head in his hands, Sergei looks deeply into the frightened eyes of his Amazon captive, gauging her resistance.

“Open your mouth, whore, and keep it open. We are done with the niceties now. Your lips only can touch my penis as it slides in and out of your mouth. And once again I tell you this: If I feel the hint of any teeth, Supergirl, your precious Kara, dies before you can rescue her. Understand me?”


The wide-eyed raven-haired heroine simply nods her head shakily. Her withdrawal symptoms are at their peak. She is quivering, helpless and sick. She opens her mouth and waits. Sergei pushes the lid of the plywood crate off to the side and it falls to the floor with a loud bang. The determined Russian then walks forward until his crotch is looming over Wonder Woman’s head, his dick swinging before her eyes. Pinned into the crate by Stevie, her head resting against the top edge of the box, Diana is completely dominated by the two men. The strong young Stevie is holding her wrists in his iron grip as the looming Sergei stands over her with his demonic fervor now. Diana can do nothing but wait.

“Remember what I have said,” Sergei growls menacingly. Then he squats down puts his cock into Wonder Woman’s wide open mouth and begins to face fuck the famous Champion of All Women. Slowly at first, his dick slides back and forth over her stretched tongue. Wonder Woman’s eyes flutter at half-mast as she desperately tries to remain calm and control her gag reflex. It is very difficult with the tip of Sergei’s cock continually rubbing against the back of her tongue but she manages it.

Shifting a bit closer, Sergei reaches down and begins to fondle Diana’s naked breasts even as he thrusts his hips back and forth. Her edges of her mouth graze his shaft as he works it back and forth, over and over again. The shaft enters and withdraws from Wonder Woman’s widely spread mouth with piston-like efficiency. The tip of his cock rubs across Diana’s tongue in quick, light repetitive strokes that almost tickle. Another gag reflex she must suppress.

“Now you are learning this new trick for your skill set, Wonder Whore: accepting a face-fucking. And you are doing such a good job of it I think it is time we go to another level, as the Americans like to say, da?”

Removing his hands from her breasts, Sergei puts them behind the pinned woman’s head and then slowly pushes his cock far down the defenseless female’s throat. This is much too deep to suppress her gag response, but Wonder Woman can do nothing but choke desperately on the large, wide cock roughly thrust down her throat. With her nose buried in Sergei’s pubic hair, the helpless heroine jerks and bucks in the grasp of the two men, her eyelids and jaw fluttering like hummingbird wings. There is no air to be had and Wonder Woman is growing faint.

After an endless ten seconds of his penis being forced far down her throat, Diana finally feels Sergei pulls it back, taking it completely out of the wheezing woman’s mouth. Gagging and choking, her bare breasts heaving and shaking as she draws fresh air into her deprived lungs, Wonder Woman sags in the plywood crate, a helpless wreck. And Sergei is simply smiling down on her. His dick is hard and he is just waiting for her to recover before he begins again.

“....nnnhhh.....uuuuuuhhhhnnnnnn......UGGHNNN....UUUUUUUUUHHNNNNNN!”

Yet again, the huge, wide Marvelous Marvin dildo wrenches a body-tensing, mind-stunning orgasm out of the bound and gagged Maid of Steel on the bondage table across the room. A thin rivulet of shimmering cum slides out from a gap in her panties as Supergirl writhes in ecstacy within the leather bondage cuffs. The cum creeps into a small puddle formed by a dimple in the leather cushion even as Supergirl’s body trembles and quakes in the wake of her overwhelming pleasure.

Right now, between two of the most famous and powerful superheroines on the planet, there’s not enough energy accessible to the blasted and defenseless females to snap a shoelace. It is a very bad time for the pair of world-renowned champions. Bound and helpless, controlled by drugs and fear, neither Supergirl or Wonder Woman has the mental strength, the willpower or the energy to fight the overwhelming odds against them. The room in which they are being thoroughly dominated has been the scene of constant humiliation for Supergirl and now Wonder Woman is learning the truth of its horrors as well. And the cameras record it all, the devastation, the anguish, the crushing defeat and the shame. Limp and defeated, the two heroines can only wait for whatever’s next, expendable pawns in Tony Bonano’s long-range plans.


His captive’s breath regained and her breasts expanding and contracting at something of a normal rate, a grinning Sergei squats again to begin face-fucking the dazed and humbled Amazon warrior.

“Open up wide, Wonder Woman. Time for a second helping.”

Shakily, her lips trembling and her eyes filled with pleading supplication for mercy she knows will not come, Diana slowly opens her mouth to allow Sergei’s organ to enter it. But the fleshy snake merely bobs menacingly at the open lips.

“Kiss it, Wonder Whore. Give it a big smacking smooch right on the tip there. One that I can clearly hear!”

Diana’s eyes flick to the stern face of the Russian who is calm but resolute. Looking back at the penis hanging over her, the famous symbol of womanly power and honor slowly stretches her neck upward toward the dangling prick, purses her lips and plants them against the slit on the end of Sergei’s cock.

The screeching, whining sound of air being slowly released from a balloon fills the room as Wonder Woman kisses the Russian’s cock as commanded. It ends with a small smacking pop and Diana retreats back, leaning against the back wall of the crate as Stevie reapplies pressure to keep her arms pinned. The famous Princess of Themyscira simply looks down at the tips of her cheesy red boots with their badly painted white stripes and frowns.

“That was truly exceptional,” beams Sergei. This bitch was completely his now. She would do as commanded. To tighten the vise of her humiliation, Sergei stretches over, snatches up a twenty dollar bill off the floor and then straightens up. He holds the bill by its ends with pinched fingertips and snaps the currency loudly in Diana’s face. “You have earned this, my pretty heroine for what you have just done and what you are about to do.” He then crumples up the bill and thrusts it down the front of Wonder Woman’s top. It crinkles against the other bill down there and Sergei withdraws his hand. “Your blowjobs may be terrible but your attitude is definitely to be improving!”

“Whud do you wand?” Diana looks up at Sergei with beaten eyes. “Dell me whud you wand uv be?”

“I want you to inject yourself with heroin, Wonder Woman. This has not changed. It will not change. Will you do this or not?”

“Dot,” she says, knowing the punishment her response will bring. But she still cannot bring herself past this line in the sand, even though moments before she thought it possible.

Diana’s body, as if to announce its solidarity with her resistance releases a mighty blattering gust of stinking wind.

“Uuuhhh!” Sergei steps back with disgust. “By all that is holy, your farts are worse than low tide on the Volga River!”

“....‘can’d help id.....no madder how much you bay be....”

“Well then, let’s get this over with so you can relieve yourself, you stinking skank. Open your mouth, tramp.”

Grabbing the back of Wonder Woman’s head, his palms in her dark hair, his fingertips clutching her skull, Sergei drops the head of his now semi-erect penis into the helpless champion’s warm widely-spread mouth.

“Suck on it, woman. Get me hard.”

She does and he does.


And then the thrusting and sliding of pungent flesh against Diana’s tongue begins anew. The repetitive motion and disturbing sight of Sergei’s groin coming at her and retreating over and over and over makes the sickened heroine dizzy so she closes her eyes.

The cameras in the corners and in the ceilings never close their unblinking eyes, of course. The image of the famous Wonder Woman in a cheap knock-off costume pinned inside a plywood crate as she is roughly face-fucked by a Russian mobster is a humiliation caught in gigabytes that the world will be shocked to see. And they will pay good money to see it again and again.

The jackhammer thrusting of the huge, hot muscle in her throat is now gagging her again as Diana feel’s the tip of Sergei’s cock brushing into the opening of her throat, far to the back of her tongue. She strains and pulls on her arms to try to stop this horrible gagging tool from stealing all her air, but Stevie holds on tight. Sergei’s powerful hands grip her head forcing her nose deep into his pubic hair just like before, even as the large Russian mobster grunts with sexual pleasure overhead. His driving cock stops thrusting and then jitters and shakes in her mouth. Then all is suddenly and surprisingly still. Diana is shocked at the cessation of all the activity for the flash of a thought. And then her eyes go wide as she gleans the meaning of it all. That’s when the explosion of surging hot semen comes. Deep in her mouth, at the entrance to her throat, the penis erupts with hot thick white lava that pours down her throat, a river of clingy spunk. She swallows just to stay alive. And then again as the massive dose of hot liquid overwhelms her senses. Incapable of containing all his ejaculation, Wonder Woman feels hot streams of it rising up and spilling out of the corner of her mouth and even a trickle of it from her eustachian tube that drips out of her nose. The thick sexual serum forms clots in Sergei’s pubic hair and smears into Diana’s face as she struggles to pull her face away from the jerking penis in her mouth. The unyielding grip on her skull suddenly relents and Diana pulls her face away from Sergei’s crotch, her mouth disgorging his large hot muscle as she yanks herself away from it. Her effort slams her back against the plywood crate as all resistance is surprisingly removed.

“Eeennghhh!” Diana grunts in high-pitched pain and then begins to wheeze and gasp for air she never thought she’d breathe again. Her breasts are heaving with every effort to draw in more air to fill her body with the lost oxygen it desperately needs But the torment is far from over. A firm hand clutches a thick sheaf of hair on the top of her head, jerking Diana’s face upward. Sergei’s cock is there and it is not done with her. The spurting snake hoses a splatter of white globules all over Diana’s face. It thickly clings to her eyelids, cheeks, nose, lips and chin. The heaving, gasping Amazon warrior blinks in a daze of bewildered wonder and intense disgust at the amount of cum this man produces.. Even now his hand takes his tool and directs it downward for a final spurt of rank semen that splatters against Diana’s rapidly rising and falling breasts in thin trails of pale white spunk. The mighty Amazon heroine has been completely bested and she is a mess.

Her head lags back against the edge of the crate, her arms still pinned in place by a bemused Stevie. Her face drips with Sergei’s cum, white lines of his male dominance dripping down her cheeks and hanging in threads off her chin like paint from a gang-banger’s graffiti tagging of his personal turf. As her breathing slows and Sergei’s as well, Diana weakly pulls her head up and the two of them lock eyes.


“So now you have been face fucked, Wonder Woman. Welcome back to my stable of whores. I am thinking you have done such a wonderful thing here today that you deserve a full syringe of the finest heroin money can buy. Stevie, please to prepare the bitch’s needle. She has well earned it I say.”

The mighty Amazon can only lie dazedly in the hard plywood crate, slumped in total defeat, coated by a spray of semen and ponders how she ever thought she could be a heroine. Or why she would even want to be one.

Off to the side, the mighty Maid of Steel begins to moan and thump and shake on the bondage table, undergoing yet another orgasm. She is totally drained of all her energy and reason. The dildo has made her into a moron for now.

Diana looks over at the blonde from under a heavily furred brow and sighs. She couldn’t care less about Kara’s troubles right now. She barely had enough energy to worry about her own. The thought of a dose of heroin swiping all her pain and defeat away in one stroke seems like a blessing to her. And she looks forward to Stevie’s return with the needle with a great yawning need.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Plan Develops
Part 50



Eli Manning steps back quickly in the pocket and sees to his left that the substitute rookie lineman has just let his man put a spin move on him. Not good! The thundering behemoth reaches out both arms for the Giants quarterback but the quick-thinking Eli adroitly ducks, does a fast spin move of his own and then takes three quick sidesteps to the right into an open part of the backfield. Looking upfield, he sees Mario Manningham streaking down the sidelines easily five yards past his hotly pursuing cornerback. Eli stops, sets and heaves the ball in a beautiful spiral 45 yards in the air. Arcing under the stadium lights like a new rainbow, the pass floats into the hands of the running receiver at the 15-yard line. It continues it trajectory directly through the fingertips and onto the ground with a thud that matches the sound of Manningham’s career crashing to the turf. The huge roar of the crowd that had grown in the Pleasure Dome’s massive bar as the play developed turns into agonized groans and pounding fists on the leather bar cushion.

“Nooo!!!”

“Shit!”

“Fucking Manningham! I can’t believe it!”

“That was six points! Six fuckin’ points sure as I’m standing here!”

The sound of the police whistle barely breaks through the noise. So the sergeant of the New York’s Finest from the Bronx South Station House blows it again, this time letting the piercing sound go on for a good thirty seconds. The large man had taken a big lungful of air and by the time the shrill shriek finally came to a halt, the entire bar had fallen silent, the patrons staring at the phalanx of police.

Carmine Vega had seen the contingent of a dozen officers in blue come through the door but the whistle-blower had started his second blast before he could reach the squad standing in a group in the middle of the bar. Several of the officers now had their billy clubs out and were smacking them into their palms.

“Put those clubs away, men!” Captain Ryan O’Donnell snaps his command and the men quickly comply. “This is going to be a calm and professional operation as I explained earlier in the station house” His Irish brogue is thick for the audience he is playing to. “If anybody does anything stupid, they’ll be walking a beat in the very worst part of this borough before the night’s over, sure as my name is Ryan O’Donnell!

The clubs are reholstered.

“Why hello, Mr. Vega. And how be you doing this fine evening?”


“Captain O’Donnell, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to our humble abode this evening?” Carmine checks his watch. It’s 9:24. Halftime is 22 seconds away and the game has broken for a commercial. Stevie, who had picked 9:24 in the pool among him, Tony and Sergei, had just won $400 bucks.

The entire room is silent except for the drone of the noisy pitchman for a local car dealer. Carmine nods to the bartender who mutes the five big-screen televisions positioned around the bar.

“I have a search warrant here, Mr. Vega. We are looking for a young slim blonde teenager and her statuesque brunette companion whom we believe might possibly be located on these premises: Supergirl and Wonder Woman.”

A murmur from the crowd spreads like a cloud of smoke, wafting from person to person.

“You haven’t seen them taking a wee stroll around here recently, have you, Carmine?” O’Donnell asks with a wry twist of a smile.

“I assure you, Captain, that if any costumed females of such beauty were here, they would have been spotted, propositioned and been bought a round of drinks by virtually every single red-blooded male present tonight!”

“Yeah!” Shout two or three slightly tipsy patrons simultaneously.

O’Donnell smiles even as he produces a sheaf of papers from the inside pocket of his uniform jacket. “You’ll find everything in order here, I’m sure, Mr. Vega. Please step aside so my men can do their job as efficiently as possible.”

“I would appreciate such efficiency, Captain. As you are undoubtedly aware, this is a very busy night for us.”

“We’ll take as long as we damn well please, Vega.” A thin, sandy-haired man in a mustache and a cheap suit wearing a sneer that was as nasty as his breath stepped up from behind Captain O’Donnell and poked Carmine in the chest with a bony finger. “And you can’t do spit about it.”

“Sandy Lindstrom. And I thought someone’s order of fish had spoiled. Silly me.”

“Don’t give me ideas, Vega. I could have the health department in here to shut you down before the second half is over!”

“I didn’t think the FBI stooped to such tactics. Aren’t you better than that?”

“Whatever gets the rats out of the sewer, Vega.”

“If anyone knows about the sewer...” Carmine began before he was interrupted.

“Gentlemen,” O’Donnell interspersed himself between the two antagonists. “If you don’t mind, I have a police procedure I am conducting here. If you two can’t play nice, you’ll have to step outside and be settlin’ your dispute out of my way.”

“I apologize, Captain. Search away.” Carmine spun on his heel and stalked back to the office in the casino area. There wasn’t anything he could do but keep an eye on things with the surveillance system. It would be more efficient anyway if one of the policemen got overly ambitious with the search.



After an hour and twenty minutes and a fruitless but thorough floor-by-floor search of every room, closet and storage area in the four-story building, the police squad left. The patrons had thinned out considerably beforehand. The take for the evening down at least 35 percent or more. Those who had a guilty conscience had left. Those who actually were guilty of something had left even before them. The pure of heart and the drunk and the curious leftovers spent their money and watched their Giants pull out a squeaker of a win over the Washington Redskins, 24 to 23. If Manningham had caught the ball, they would have beaten the spread and everyone would have been a lot happier. Carmine was just happy there was as little breakage as there was. Only a few glasses were broken, mostly for show by a vindictive Sandy Lindstrom. A few closets were thrown off their tracks. Every bed in the place would have to be remade, and every drawer refilled with contents that had been thrown on the carpet. They were looking for two women but they were also authorized to toss the place for any evidence of the women. There was none to be found.

On the way out, Captain O’Donnell looked frustrated and angry. Not a bad actor, thought Carmine. After all, the man had tipped off Tony about the whole raid in the first place. Carmine hoped that Lindstrom was appreciating the effort being displayed by the Bronx South captain for his benefit and the small crowd of patrons in the bar.

“We may not have found the lassies tonight, Vega,” O’Donnell growled in his thick brogue, “but keep your nose clean or we’ll be back and won’t be half as nice about what we break.”

“I will take your words to heart, Captain. I appreciate your and your men’s professionalism.”

“I am surprised that Mr. Bonano was not here this evening. Please advise him of the same warning I gave to you. In all its gravity.”

“I will certainly do that, Captain. Good evening.”

“Good evening, Mr. Vega.”

“Watch your back, Carmine. I understand that Don Lupenzo has a bulls-eye painted on it,” Lindstrom sneers as he passes Carmine while heading for the exit.

“It’s probably the first thing you’ve understood since you got your badge, Lindstrom. Who had to explain it to you? And did they have to draw it out in crayon for you?”

The FBI agent stopped in mid-stride and turned to accost Carmine but the big man had turned and was walking back to his office. The frustrated agent pounded his fist into a mirrored picture of Marilyn Monroe hanging next to the entrance, then stalked out of the Pleasure Dome in a huff. Behind him, the black surface of the mirror had a new white smashed star that glittered over Marilyn’s shoulder like a promise unfulfilled.


* * *


When Diana climbed back to a bleary state of awareness she found herself bolted face-down on a cold stone floor. Looking sideways, she sees that thick shiny cuffs enclose the silly gold fabric wristbands that were supposed to emulate her own bullet-proof metal bracelets. Craning her head backward, she notes that leg cuffs surround the ankles of the phony boots she wears. Wonder Woman pulls on them with a half-hearted effort, knowing it was useless. Tony and his men left very little to chance.

Dazed by the after-effects of the Istanbul Express that Stevie had shot her up with a few hours ago, the tired heroine remembers the liquid gold flowing into her arm and her brain, filling it with wonder, pleasure and relief. She had gone so long between shots she’d almost forgotten how good the heroin felt. Despite herself, the Amazon princess admitted the engulfing sense of joy and delight this drug bestowed was nothing like anything she’d ever experienced before in her life. No wonder people would steal, beg and agree to just about anything to achieve such a feeling. It made perfect sense from this side of the needle.


“Uhh..uhhhnn..oooohhhh...aaahhhh....eeeehhhhhhhhhnnnnn!!!” Behind her on the table, Supergirl comes to another orgasm. It is an exhausted, mewling whimper through her ballgag that builds to a keening whine and then a loud panting and a grunt.

Diana is completely stunned by the sound. Had poor Kara been subjected to this unrelenting sexual stimulation for so many hours? She wasn’t even sure how long she had been asleep. She had drifted off, exhausted after all the abuse heaped on her by Sergei.

“Kara,” Diana calls hoarsely, her throat dry, almost fused shut. Her whole face feels tight and then she remembers Sergei cumming in her mouth, all over her face and on her breasts. She had not been washed or cleaned in any way. Looking at the stone floor she sees a dried round white stain that trails off into the grout between the stones. Sergei’s cum that had drained out of her mouth! The Amazon princess scowls briefly. What did she expect? A man cums in your mouth and your face, it’s got to go somewhere. Such stains were to be a part of her new life she supposed. There wasn’t anything she could do about it.

With no reply from Kara, Diana cleared her throat to call again. First though, she comes up with a sticky ball of phlegm and dried semen, which she spits onto the wall facing her a few feet away.

“Kara. Hold on. We’ll get you out of there. Be brave. Kick your boot heels if you understand me.”

There is no kick. No thump. Nothing.

“Sergei! STEVIE! SOMEONE COME QUICK!” Wonder Woman is using her considerable lung power to its utmost and in less than 20 seconds, Diana hears footsteps behind her.

“What is this noise about?” Sergei walks up beside the prone Amazon who turns her head to look up at the tall Russian hood standing over her, munching on a hamburger. The thought of food makes Diana’s stomach growl. She can’t remember the last time she ate. But Kara comes first.

“Please, Sergei, you have to give Kara a break. Please take the sex toys out of her. You will give her a heart attack in her condition. She is not super right now. Tony can’t want her to die. Please, Sergei, don’t let Supergirl die.”

“What are you to be doing for me if I do this favor?”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to suck her clit for my amusement.”

“Fine! Just give her a break before I do. Please.”

“Just like that you agree?”

“Yes.”

“You like to do this, I am guessing.”

“I come from an island of only women. I am not a stranger to it. Please, Sergei. I don’t know if she can even take another orgasm. How many has it been?”

“You think men count? Or care for that matter?”

“Of course not. I should know better.”

“Is that a tone I hear from you? Because if it’s a tone...”

“It’s not a tone. Please, she is beginning to whine again. I can hear her.”

“Fine. No tricks. I do this. We give the slut a break and then you go down on her like the friend you are. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Diana nods briskly.


Four minutes later, Supergirl has the huge Marvelous Marvin dildo extracted from her pussy as well as the ball gag removed from her mouth. The kryptonite-filled butt plug stays in, of course.

Lying on the table in the cheap knock-off costume that is now virtually transparent with her sweat, Supergirl breathes deep shallow breaths. She is lost in what may be the deepest sleep of her life. Pushed to the very edge of exhaustion and dehydration, the famous Maid of Steel is lucky to be alive. She has Diana to thank for that. If she’d had two or three more orgasms, her incredible Kryptonian heart would have given out for sure. Three dozen orgasms in under three hours will do that to you.

“Would you like to play with me while your little girlfriend is to be recovering, beautiful?” Sergei kneels next to Wonder Woman, his hand on the key lock for the manacles set in the stone floor.

“What I’d like and what I need is a shower and some food. Not necessarily in that order.”

“Again, no tricks and I can agree with this.”

“No tricks. You have another burger around here?”

“Happens that we do,” Sergei says and he unlocks the manacles.

Rubbing her wrists as she stands, Wonder Woman looks over at Kara and is frightened at how pale she looks and how weak her breathing is. What’s more, her thighs have a slight greenish tint to them.

“You have to give her a break from the kryptonite, too,” she demands. Look at her color, it’s awful.”

“Da. But is necessary. I will take you to shower now. Come.” He takes firm hold of Diana’s arm and accompanies her to the bathroom. To her chagrin but not surprise, Sergei stands in the door and watches as she strips out of the knock-off costume, admiring her figure before she climbs into the stall and begins to wash. She snaps the curtain across the bar to give herself some privacy but it’s all pretty pointless after what he’s done to her. When he slowly pulls it back to reveal her as she is shampooing her hair, she doesn’t even bother to pull the curtain back again. Let him look. She can’t do anything to prevent him from doing whatever the hell he wants.

Sitting in silence with Stevie and Sergei, Diana inhales a full plate of fries with her burger and a cold, frosty chocolate milkshake as well. One guilty pleasure meal won’t kill her figure. What the hell, maybe if I get fat he won’t want to fuck me as much!

The only words said during the whole meal are two questions posed by Sergei. The first was whether Diana had gone down on any other superheroines. She had replied, “Of course not!” The other question was whether she would shoot up the heroin herself the next time.

This answer was longer in coming because Diana wasn’t sure how Sergei would respond. Kara’s life could hang in the balance. And she wasn’t sure the line in the sand needed to be drawn anymore. It just didn’t seem to matter that much. Now that she was back on the heroin schedule, it seemed silly to protest against this final insult. There had been so many. And they would probably threaten Kara’s life again if she didn’t. In the end, she answered, “Probably not,” but the smile Sergei showed presented his full compliment of teeth.

“No, probably not,” he had echoed with that Cheshire cat grin.



* * *


“Well, they came, they searched and they left,” Carmine told Tony by cell phone as the Mob don spent time in New Jersey with his cronies at a Spanish restaurant in Newark. They had a huge pitcher of Sangria on the table along with a giant plate of paella as well as a three-pound lobster in front of everyone.

“Great, Carmine. So no problems?”

“Just the FBI prick Sandy Lindstrom. What a clown. He broke a few glasses to make a show of what a big man he is. The cops actually were pretty restrained. O’Donnell kept ‘em in line. The take was down a lot, but we knew that would be the case. All in all, we got by without much damage.”

“Alright, Carm. I’ll be back late tonight. See you then. Oh, any word from Sergei or Stevie?”

“Not a peep.”

“I guess no news is good news.”

“I hope so. See you later, Ton.”

“Yup.” Tony snapped the phone shut and went back to his lobster.


* * *


Stevie had all the equipment primed and ready for Wonder Woman’s session with Supergirl. Power levels were all double checked on every microphone and camera in the room. There was 10 tetrabytes of memory set aside, which would have been enough for several days of super-slow motion sex play.

When Sergei leads Diana into the room, he says, “Have fun, girls. And be creative, Wonder Woman. There will be a bonus in it if you are.” and leaves with a wide smile on his face to go back to the control room and watch the action.

Before the Russian hoodlum even leaves, Diana looks down at a still-sleeping Kara. She seems at perfect peace for the moment. Brushing the sweaty hair off her forehead, Diana leans down and kisses Kara softly on the lips, brushing them gently with her own. There is no reaction from the sleeping blonde so Diana kisses her again, more firmly this time, their lips compressed against each other. Kara’s eyes open slowly, dazedly. She is looking into eyes as beautifully blue as her own. They are Diana’s. This may be the only thing she knows for certain at the moment. All else is hazy.

Diana leans over closer and kisses Kara gently on the ear and then flicks it with her tongue as she whispers as softly as possible, “Hush, sweet Kara. Say nothing.” Supergirl’s eyes go wide as saucers.

“What did she say?” Sergei turns to Stevie in the control room.

“Couldn’t make it out,” Stevie replies, pushing the embedded table microphone to its max.

“YOU ARE ONE SWEET KRYPTONIAN FOX!” Wonder Woman’s voice blares out of the speakers in the control room like an ear-splitting bellow, although she’s only speaking in a fairly normal voice. Stevie dives for the sliding sound level control and pulls it back.

Bending in to nibble Kara’s ear, Wonder Woman whispers one word to her ticklish ear: “Escape.”

“What the fuck, Stefano! What did she say?”

“She’s alternating her volume. I can’t get the soft stuff without blaring the loud stuff.”

“Maybe we have to live with the shouting,” Sergei scowls.

“It will be shouting on the DVD too, though.”

“There is nothing you can do in post-production?”

“It won’t be great.”

“Better than nothing, I am thinking. We need to hear everything.”

“Fine, get some cotton for your ears, this could get loud.”

“Stay on the sound level, maybe she will stop this nonsense.”

“I AM GOING TO EAT YOU LIKE A PLATE OF SUSHI,” Diana’s voice bellows through the speakers.

“Fuck!” Sergei doesn’t know whether to be pissed or excited.

“OH, DIANA. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” Supergirl looks into Wonder Woman’s eyes for clues. Even through the lethargy of her exhaustion, she knows she has to play along with whatever Diana has come up with. She just hopes she has the stamina. She feels sick and in pain from the kryptonite slime-filled buttplug forced deep between her cheeks. Of course, the feel of Diana’s tongue flicking in her ear does feel pretty good.

“BECAUSE YOU DESERVE TO ENJOY EVERYTHING A WOMAN CAN FEEL, YOU SILLY GIRL! FROM HER PRETTY BREASTS TO HER TENDER VAGINA TO HER SOFT ROUND ASS!”

Well, we know what’s on the program Supergirl just hopes she’s up to the task.

Diana begins her coverage of all of Kara’s erogenous zones with a stop at her breasts, fondling them gently with her sensitive palms, squeezing slowly and then rubbing them in patient circles. Her excited nipples poke obviously against the fabric and Wonder Woman pulls down the pale blue material to expose the hard pink nub. She licks at it with a flick of her tongue and Kara’s body jerks on the table, her wrists straining against the leather cuffs.

“WHAAAH!” she yelps, the gasp sounding like a hippo grunt in the control room as both mafia thugs wince. Her nipples have always been pretty sensitive and Diana clearly knows what she is doing. In fact, with Diana’s fingers tracing circles around the nipples and her deep blue eyes exploring her own for acknowledgment of the situation, Kara gives Diana a clue of her own.

“OH DEAR RAO, YOU’RE TOO GOOD AT THIS! PLEASE DON’T! GO SLOW! I CAN’T FIGHT YOU OFF MUCH LONGER!”

“YOUR ASS IS MINE, SUPERGIRL. YOU MADE ME CUM. NOW IT’S YOUR TURN, BLONDIE. MY FINGER’S GOING PLACES MY TONGUE CAN’T REACH!”

Wincing but smiling, Sergei and Stevie look at each other with huge grins. This was going to be good!

Kara, in the meantime hopes she can withstand the many lovemaking skills that Diana possesses as Wonder Woman pretends to make love to her in order to pull the kryptonite buttplug out of her ass without Sergei’s and Stevie’s knowledge. It’ll certainly be a neat trick if Diana can do it. And a neat trick if she doesn’t cum like an open fire hydrant before she does.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Love Among The Ruins
Part 51



Supergirl is panting and moaning noisily, her breasts rising and falling in rapid succession within the too-tight faded costume tunic as Wonder Woman slips her pink tongue deeply into her ear and circles it slowly. She is caressing Kara’s breast with her left hand using slow, constant strokes. At the same time, Diana’s other hand is stuffed under the belt of Supergirl’s skirt, her fingertips teasingly stroking through the soft yellow curls of the writhing blonde heroine’s pubic bush inside the Kryptonian’s original bright red panties.

“YAAHH!” The speaker, with the microphones cranked up to max levels, blares out Supergirl’s yelp of pleasure like a voting van broadcasting requests to the populace to get out and vote.

“PLEASE!” Supergirl squeals with uninhibited delight. “DON’T!” Any extra noise she makes she figures will help cover anything Diana is trying to do to retract the kryptonite buttplug from her rear. Besides, the fingers, the hand on her breast and the hot, wet tongue felt fabulous together! She planned on having on a long talk to Diana about her lovemaking skills if she ever got out of this room in one piece!

“I cannot see her other hand,” Sergei says.

“It’s shoved down Supergirl’s skirt, you dumb Russian,” Stevie snaps. “Look at the second monitor. I’ve got her knuckles showing under the fabric there in tight close-up.”

“Ah, yes. I see it.”

With her wrists and ankles restrained in thick leather buckles, there’s no way Supergirl can offer any pleasurable payback to Diana for the exquisite joy she was receiving. If anything, Kara was even more turned on by this fact. She simply had to accept the gifts Diana was offering without any recourse. And the fact that she had to seem to be trying to fight against the sensations that Wonder Woman was providing was all the more arousing to the young Kryptonian. In fact, her clitoris was poking out of its sheath with eager anticipation of the Amazon’s fingers traveling inside her. And she was steadily leaking copious amounts of fluids into her already soaked panties.

“THIS IS FOR MAKING ME BREAK MY VOW, YOU DUMB BLONDE!” Diana barks as she grabs both of Supergirl’s ears and goes in for a long, slow passionate kiss.


“MMMFFF!” Supergirl protests the invasion even as her mouth secretly opens to receive Diana’s warm searching tongue. While the two famous heroines are locked in this passionate kiss, Wonder Woman hoists herself up onto the bondage table and slowly maneuvers her body so it covers the young blonde’s, fitting her voluptuous figure against Supergirl’s formidable body while blocking the majority of views the multiple cameras were recording of the helpless blonde champion.

“This is good stuff,” Stevie remarks as he works the controls. “And we don’t have anything like it on any of the DVDs. It ought to sell very well!”

“Da,” Sergei says, licking his lips as his eyes flick greedily among the eight monitors taking feeds from the various cameras. On one there is a close-up of the two heroine’s mouths locked together, the women’s smooth cheeks poking out occasionally with the heavy tongue action from within. Another monitor shows Wonder Woman’s hand gently cupping Supergirl’s breast, the thumb caressing the nipple in lazy circles. On one of the bottom monitors of the double row of four facing the control table, Sergei see’s the pelvis of Wonder Woman’s cheap starred panties grinding against Supergirl’s faded skirt. He notes the Kryptonian’s thighs are a darker shade of green than when he’d noticed an hour before. He would have to figure out what to do about that, but meanwhile, inside his pants, Sergei’s prick is now large and hard.

“Very good stuff,” Stevie repeats aloud, adjusting his crotch to ease the strain of his own hard-on.

Diana moves her right hand off of Kara’s breast and begins to rub it up and down, slowly caressing it all along the left side of the bound blonde’s body. The hand works its way from her breast, copping a generous final feel for a moment, then down to her waist where lithe fingers teasingly caress the skin revealed by the dislodged fabric of the faded tunic. The hand moves onward, sliding down to the hips and then the thighs where several long slow caresses cause the restrained heroine to buck and moan and protest through locked tongues to no avail. The hand continues to caress. And then it moves under Supergirl’s body, gathering the soft left buttock and squeezing it hard.. And then, suddenly, Wonder Woman breaks away from the kiss, almost having to rip her face away from the Kryptonian’s reluctant, entwining tongue.

“YOU LIKE THAT, DON’T YOU, SWEETIE?”

“NO!”

“LIAR! YOUR NIPPLES ARE STIFF AS PEBBLES. AND TRY TO TELL ME THAT YOU DON’T LIKE THIS, SUPERGIRL!”

The two mafiosa wince painfully at the blasting voices but are transfixed by the scene before them as they watch Wonder Woman slide her body backward with her feet dangling off the end of the bondage table until her face is positioned directly over Supergirl’s pelvis. As the famous Amazon beauty lowers her head, both men lean forward in their chairs. Sergei zooms in on Diana’s face as her finger comes in from the side of the shot and pulls aside the crotch of Supergirl’s shiny red panties, revealing the glistening pussy beneath. Two labial lips gleam in the light from the overhead fluorescent fixtures. Diana’s tongue slides just along the left labia and Supergirl’s pelvic jerks away in a thrilled spasm.

Now both of Diana’s hands form the top corners of the shot as she takes firm grip of Supergirl’s thighs and pins them in place. A hooked pinky keeps the crotch of the panties aside as Wonder Woman moves her face closer to Kara’s wetly excited vagina. Diana figured the men would definitely be disappointed if there wasn’t a crotch shot so that’s what she had to give them. Later, they wouldn’t care as much if they got this close-up in the can, so to speak. Later she could take chances that they wouldn’t zoom in while she tried to extract the buttplug. But for now, all of Kara’s privacy was about to be invaded. There was nothing to be done about it but to get it over with. But damn if Kara’s Kryptonian pheremones weren’t pumping out a heady scent that made Diana a bit dizzy with desire herself.


Once again, she licked the lips of Supergirl’s pussy and tasted the sweetness there and felt the spasm of the mighty heroine’s thighs in the palms of her hands and heard the gasp of the blonde champion overhead. She repeated the action. And then once more.

Supergirl bit her lip hard enough to draw a bit of blood and to keep her excitement under control. But she knew she couldn’t hold out for long. Not with Diana’s tongue teasing her into a quivering mass of helpless muscles.

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” Kara genuinely wanted to know if this was absolutely necessary to the plan. She couldn’t think straight at the moment.

“BECAUSE YOU NEED TO HAVE IT DONE TO YOU.” Diana replies, sliding her tongue deeply between Supergirl’s thighs now and licking just around the perimeter of her clitoris.

“WHAH.......WHY?”

“EVERYONE KNOWS YOU LOVE IT. THEY EXPECT IT BY NOW, SLUT!”

Drawing back from Supergirl’s twitching pussy, Diana puts her right elbow on top of Supergirl’s thigh to pin it in place and slowly smooths the palm of her right hand over the whole area of Kara’s crotch, feeling the wetness coat her skin as she does.

“YOU’RE VERY WET, SUPERGIRL. YOU’RE CONFIRMING ALL MY SUSPICIONS ABOUT HOW EASY YOU ARE!”

The befuddled blonde teen doesn’t know what to make of that comment. Was Diana playing to the two men or was it a clue that she should let herself go? When Wonder Woman’s forefinger centers on the thin spot of skin at the apex of her crotch just over her clit and begins to rapidly stroke back and forth in tiny blurred motions, Kara is too aroused not to respond to the incredible rush of sensation.

“OOOHHHH! EMMMHHH!” Her head cranes forward to try to see Diana’s face for any signal of intent but the finger suddenly stops, circles rapidly and begins to stroke up and down know with the same frenzied pace as before. Supergirl’s head snaps back hard against the cushioned table and her thighs spread apart as far as the leather restraints allow.

“AIEEYAAHHHH!”

“YOU’RE REALLY PUTTING ON A SHOW, SUPERGIRL. I CAN SEE WHY ALL THOSE DVDS OF YOURS SELL SO MUCH. A PRETTY GIRL LIKE YOU WITH HER FACE TWISTED INTO HELPLESS PLEASURE, WHO WOULDN’T WANT TO LOOK AT THAT!”

Diana hoped Stevie would take the bait and train at least one camera on Kara’s face. With her eyes shut and her mouth open in erotic excitement, it certainly was getting Diana hot. She figures it’s time to take it to the next level and finish this part of the show. So Diana takes her finger off of Supergirl’s crotch and puts that hand back on her thigh to hold it in place. She then gets her face closer to the Maid of Steel’s gleaming crotch and slowly works her tongue up into Kara’s vagina until it reaches the area near her clitoris. She circles the perimeter of the hard nub with several slow orbits of the tip of her tongue, barely grazing its sides as she does.

“YES! NO! PLEASE!”

“SUPERGIRL WANTS MORE? JUST LIKE THE NAIVE SLUT I THOUGHT YOU WERE!”


Diana circles her tongue once more and then goes in for the kill. The boys would expect it, as she said. And the intoxicating scent of Kara’s accelerating excitement was spurring Diana onward with a physiological demand that was making her wet and somewhat confused with inflamed lust. Wonder Woman puts the tip of her tongue on Supergirl’s exposed pink knob of desire and flutters it there. Enjoying the control and forgetting herself for the moment.

“NOT A SL....AAHH! OOOHHHHHHHHHHH! DON’T! .....STOP.....THIS....”

“I DON’T PLAN ON STOPPING IT!” Diana taunts, corrupting the meaning of the excited teen’s pleas. Supergirl’s wrists and ankles strain mightily at the leather bondage cuffs but she is helplessly pinned to the table as her clitoris is bathed by Diana’s warm surrounding tongue.

“RAAOOOO!” Supergirl moans in long, low throttling growl of pleasure. She can’t take much more of this. She didn’t think Diana wanted her to cum but if not why would she be doing this? Was she promised heroin that she could no longer refuse? Kara’s brain can not focus with all this pleasure. She wonders if she’s been betrayed even as Wonder Woman’s tongue now insistently strokes at her vibrating clit. Up and down, back and forth like a metronome. There is no fighting back this unendurable pleasure a moment longer. Her ass bumps up and down as the whole world goes blindingly white, her senses explode in ecstacy, and her vagina floods with liquid joy that washes into Wonder Woman’s mouth. The Amazon warrior, bleary with Kryptonian pheremones, experiences a minor orgasm of her own, dampening her own panties with cum as she shivers on the table.

The cameras have caught the moment and Sergei and Stevie slap high-fives as Supergirl’s head lolls to the side in a classic shot of dopey orgasmic pleasure.

After a moment, Diana comes back to herself and calls out haughtily “NOW WHO IS THE ONE WHO CANNOT CONTROL HERSELF, SUPERGIRL?”

Kara’s eyes, drowsy with sexual bliss can barely focus on Diana’s face. She had let herself enjoy the stimulation Wonder Woman had provided far too much. She’d lost her control it was true and Diana’s comment bit into her consciousness even as it fed into the lust of the two men in the control room.

Well done, Diana! Two birds with one stone. I am now more aware and Stevie and Sergei are probably dry humping the control room table from underneath!

“YOU’RE ONE TO TALK!” Kara yells. “YOU SEEM TO BE ENJOYING YOURSELF FAR TOO MUCH, YOU STUPID COW!”

Diana immediately understands Supergirl’s clue. Kara needed her to fight now. Needed her to pick up the pace because she was getting weaker every minute. Any escape attempt wouldn’t work if she had to take too long to get her powers back. Diana had to move faster. So she did. She just hoped Kara could handle what she was going to do!

Sliding up the beautiful blonde’s body, Wonder Woman takes the famous emblem on Supergirl’s chest in her teeth, making sure there’s no skin pinched in there, and snaps her head down in a hard, sudden jerk. The sound of ripping cloth blasts through the speakers like an air hose releasing at full pressure.

Sergei winces as the harsh ripping noise blasts through the speakers. “They are no longer whispering. Please, lower the volume, Stefano!” The young man nods and pushes the lever to regular levels. He then maneuvers the main camera so it captures the new view afforded by Wonder Woman’s savage attack on Supergirl’s blouse.

There before them, the beautiful blonde’s breasts are revealed for the viewing pleasure of as many cameras that Stevie cares to use. Diana hopes it’s every single one. But that wouldn’t happen, she knows that. So she gives the Mafia technician an extra reason to focus on Kara’s chest by slowly rising up and licking noisily at the tender pink nipples with her long, lapping tongue. Stevie does devote two more cameras to this, one for each breast, as Wonder Woman then begins to work her tongue in circles around Supergirl’s rock hard nipples.

Arching her back to accept the tongue more readily and to provide a bit more access to her rear, the Maid of Steel’s pulse quickens immediately as the tactile wonders of Diana’s tongue create new ripples in the center of Kara’s being. She felt herself losing control on a major level yet again. If another orgasm could mask a maneuver on Diana’s part, that would be a good thing, right? Kara tries to think if she should let herself cum again or not. The circling tongue has more to say about it than her brain, of course, and it was doing everything possible to sway her opinion.

“Rao! You are relentless, you bitch!” Kara growls, her throat dry from all the pleasure.

Diana ups the ante by taking Supergirl’s throat in her palm and squeezing it tightly, even as the tongue continues its work, only breaking the rhythm to issue a taunt.

“Keep quiet or I will strike you, fool!”

Sergei devotes yet another camera to Supergirl’s face, not wanting to lose the possible shot of Wonder Woman knocking the famous Maid of Steel silly with a good, hard backhand. Only three cameras are not focused on Supergirl’s face or upper torso. Two provide general wide shots of the room from opposite directions and one is focused on the lower part of Supergirl’s and Wonder Woman’s bodies. It is showing their pelvises locked together. None of the three cameras are under Stevie’s direct control. They are all set on automatic for now.

“You have sold your soul for heroin, Diana. You betray your people and yourself!”

“Look who’s talking, Kara! Supergirl: the super crack addict.” Diana grabs a handful of material at the torn blouse’s shoulder with one hand and slaps Kara across the cheek with the flat of her other hand. Kara’s head snaps to the side, taking the slap with a surprisingly adept roll that makes the loud slap seem far worse than it is.

“Hitting a defenseless opponent,” spits Supergirl as she brings her face back to stare Diana down. “Is that the Amazon way now?”

Diana grabs Supergirl’s neck in her left palm and squeezes it hard now and Supergirl’s face flushes red. All cameras that Stevie controls are focused on the expressions of the two combatants. The anger and desperation is painted broadly across the two faces. And both men are glued to the scene. So glued in fact, that they miss the fact that Wonder Woman’s other hand has slid under the pinned blonde’s rear end and into the depths of her panties.

“See how quick-witted you are with my teeth on your nipples, you pathetic tramp!”

Diana lowers her face and bites on the areola on Supergirl’s left breast. Stevie focuses the camera on the Diana’s pearly whites as they clamp down on a generous portion of the tip of Supergirl’s breast. The shot is clear enough to catch the reddish marks of the teeth as they dimple deeply into the breast. What the two men don’t catch is the buttplug being quickly and adeptly twisted out of Supergirl’s rear end by Wonder Woman’s hidden hand. The blonde arches her back in apparent pain from the bite. And the rising tide of her impending orgasm calms down dramatically with the pain as well. Two more birds with one stone from Diana.

Suddenly, Diana lets go of Supergirl’s neck and grabs her by the hair, forcing the Maid of Steel to arch her neck as she lowers her head and talks into Supergirl’s face from only inches away. The two mafiosa watch with their eyes glued to the main monitor as Wonder Woman taunts Supergirl yet again.

“You never could handle yourself well in a fight, Supergirl. I always knew that about you!” Diana snarls in the blonde’s face even as she surreptitiously slides the buttplug into her own panties, letting it nestle between her thighs.

“And you would call this a fair fight?” Supergirl’s voice drips with sarcasm. She dares not show the relief she feels now that the deadly sex toy has been withdrawn from the depths of her body. She is far from recovered. That will take several minutes. They will have to stall somehow.

“As fair as it would be if you had your super powers against me. Which is to say not at all.”

“Perhaps then, we should make it fairer,” Sergei says into a microphone he has keyed to broadcast his voice throughout the room. Supergirl and Wonder Woman both turn their heads to the camera on the control room wall in shock. This was the last thing either of them expected.

“Sorry to interrupt, girls. But Wonder Woman is to be making a good point. I think she should now be tied down to the bondage table and Supergirl should have the luxury of teasing her.”

“No!” Both women reply as one and this raises Sergei’s suspicions instantaneously.

“Why not?” He asks, wary. His eyebrows arched.

“She has already had the opportunity,” Diana says quickly. “You were even there. This is my payback for then. Why should she get another free ride?”

“Because I said so?” Sergei taunts the two of them, enjoying himself. Stevie is simply annoyed. This intrusive Russian had butted in just when things were getting dramatic. Now he’d have to edit around this whole nonsense. Still, he kept quiet, not wanting to annoy the moody Slav.

“I have no desire to give this bitch an ounce of pleasure,” Supergirl snaps out. “We are friends no longer.”

“Is that so?” Sergei says, frowning. He thought he might have gotten another full sex scene with the two girls in opposite positions but that seemed less and less likely now.

“But Kara,” Diana says with a slow nasty smile on her face, “I still think of you as my friend. Here, let me prove it.” Wonder Woman reaches down to the still bound blonde teen heroine and squeezes her nipple gently. She had to give Supergirl more time to recover and this was the only way that was going to happen. As it was, they were very close to Sergei coming in right now and destroying the whole escape attempt.

Drawing in a sharp breath with a gasp of surprise and excitement, Supergirl feels an electric charge shoot through her as Diana gently twists and squeezes the nipple until it is as hard as a pencil eraser.

“Now doesn’t that feel nice and friendly,” Diana says with a cooing soft tone.

Stevie, snapped back to the present, checks on all monitors and sees that six of them are covering the upper torso of the two women. He looks at the one centered on the middle of the two heroines’ torsos and sees a bulge in Diana’s panties. One that definitely wasn’t there before. He scowls deeply and then motions to Sergei who has gotten involved in watching Diana playing with Supergirl’s nipple. The big Russian leans toward Stevie.

“What is it?”

“We’ve been had.”

“What do you mean?”

“It looks like Wonder Woman extracted the buttplug out of Supergirl. Look her thighs aren’t nearly as green as they were two minutes ago.

“You are right!”

“We have to do something. She gets her powers back exponentially I believe. If we wait much longer, she will have powers we can’t deal with.”

“What do you suggest?” Sergei is calm and controlled. “There is kryptonite all over this place. Certainly we can subdue her. Or, how about we give her a dose of crack?”

“Softer, Serge. Her super hearing might be one of the first senses to return.”

The two men watch as Wonder Woman continues her stall by fondling Supergirl’s breasts and kissing her nipples. First one, then the other, back and forth as her hands cup the full breasts and squeeze them with loving gentleness.

“Stop that, you degenerate skank!” Kara is trying to draw out the scene herself, she felt she only needed a couple of more minutes before she would have a chance to use her powers at one quarter strength. The buttplug had been in her for a very long time. To complicate matters, once again, Diana’s skills are making her a bit dazed with delight.

“What’s the matter, Superslut? Can’t handle a little simple feeling up?”

“I don’t think Wonder Woman would let us give Supergirl crack at this point,” whispers Stevie. “Do you think you can take on the Amazon while I try to shoot up Supergirl with a dose of crack or weaken her with kryptonite or something?”

“I can beat the Amazon if you think you can be managing Supergirl.”

“I don’t think we have a choice. We’ve got to move now. Take Wonder Woman down as quickly as possible. I’ve got something that will do the job for Supergirl.” Unlocking a drawer, Stevie takes out two capsules of crack that they had used during Supergirl’s initial training. Breaking the capsule would ignite a puff of smoke that she would inhale, incapacitating her enough to handle. At least he hoped it would.

“Let’s do this!” Stevie says softly. The two men move as one.

“Diana, you can’t do this!” Supergirl is actually beside herself with pleasure once again as Wonder Woman’s ministrations to her breasts excite her libido to dangerous levels. She strains her wrists at the leather and it squeaks loudly but does not break. But she’s nearly there. One more minute should do it.

The sight of the two men rushing into the room surprises Supergirl into a gasp of surprise which Diana takes as simply another noise of pleasure from her mighty friend. So when a shadow crosses over her and darkens the face of the blonde Kryptonian whose breasts she is licking, Diana is unprepared for Sergei’s harsh fist crashing into her kidney.

“UUNNGGH!” She falls unceremoniously off the side of the table onto her back on the hard stone floor with a loud thud. Lying prone on the cold surface, Diana has no time to react before she feels a hand grab a huge clump of her hair, yanking her head back. Sergei’s large fist rockets directly into her face stunning her completely. She falls back onto the floor dazed.


Supergirl can do no better. Try as she might with all her strength, she twists and pulls at all four leather buckles, straining them to their limit. Not one of them break. She was still too weak from the kryptonite buttplug’s effects. Stevie punches the grimacing girl hard in the stomach and then breaks a crack capsule directly under her nose. Wheezing for air, the mighty blonde heroine draws in the thick plume of white dust into her lungs and a mere ten seconds later, is flat on her back with a soporific expression of simple joy on her face. Helpless on the table in a heavy drugged daze, the mighty Supergirl can do nothing to help her friend Wonder Woman as the stunned Amazon beauty takes one of the most savage beatings of her life. After that, she is manacled to the floor again and administered a hefty dose of Istanbul Express. Tomorrow they will be shuttled back to the South Bronx, all hope dispersed. Two drug addicted superheroines under the complete control of Tony Bonano. Nothing had changed.


* * *


Monday evening, just before 11:00 p.m., Carmine opens his cell phone and dials Don Gino Lupenzo. The conversation is terse and tense between the two rivals.

“Carmine, have you called to tell me Tony is going to release the blonde heroine tonight?”

“No, Gino. But if you check tomorrow’s paper, you’ll see our club was raided tonight, just as Tony suspected it would be.”

“More attention drawn to the Families. You consider this good news?”

“I consider it as merely evidence that Tony was telling you the truth about the raid and that his desire to heal this rift between the two of you is genuine.”

“I don’t believe anything Tony Bonano says anymore, Carmine. Neither should you!”

The simple click of Don Lupenzo disconnecting the call is soft as a quiet threat.


* * *


Late Tuesday morning finds Supergirl tied to the bondage table and just waking up. She is dazed by a night of two separate injections of prime grade crack. There is a small glowing green pendant draped around her neck hanging from a silver chain that keeps her powerless but not in much pain. At the moment the tear shaped jewelry is draped between her breasts casting a soft green glow on the inner surfaces of her pale skin. With so little time in the sun over the past 36 hours, any tan she has is completely dissipated. The logy heroine slowly climbs higher into a wider consciousness. Now she smells herself and she is pretty rank. A shower would be heaven. The once-mighty champion of justice looks around the room slowly, her head lolling weakly as she tries to process the visual information and feels the gnawing need for more crack well up inside her. Her last injection had been over six hours ago.

I am back in Tony’s chamber of horrors. Still in it. Was here last night with Diana.

Looking over to the floor where Wonder Woman had been locked face-down in place by bright chrome manacles, Kara sees only empty manacles there and no Diana. That seemed like a bad thing to the befuddled blonde.

“...stevie....HEY! STEVIE!” After a weak whisper, Kara finds her voice, scratchy but loud.

“You don’t have to shout, Supergirl. I can hear you perfectly well in the control room. What do you want?” The disembodied voice fills the room.

“Where’s Diana?”

“Gone.”

“I can see that. Gone where?”

“Upstairs in Tony’s bedroom.”

“S’Tony there?” Supergirl slurs, still trying to gather her senses. A good dose of crack would start her day off right.

“No. A doctor is there.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say Sergei likes his work too much.”

Warm tears suddenly well up in the teenage heroine’s eyes and slide down her temples.

“Oh, Rao. No. So much violence and pain for poor Diana,” she whimpers softly, slowly shaking her blonde hair. Stevie looks up at the monitor from the editing of last night’s session between the two heroines. He had finished the work-around edit of Sergei’s interruption and had only a couple of simple edits left between the two women after Stevie had seen the bulge in Diana’s panties: the “breast play stall tactic” as Stevie thought of it. The young Mafia hood sees Supergirl crying on the table. She was probably quite vulnerable right now with the escape having failed and it being six hours since her last crack high. He can finish the edits later. He thinks he can use Supergirl’s moment of weakness to his advantage.

Supergirl turns her head as she sees Stevie walk out of the control room and over toward her.

“How bad did he beat her,” she asks, gathering herself now to full wakefulness.

“Well, he’s a professional so there won’t be permanent scars I’m thinking, but I’d be surprised if he didn’t break one or two of her ribs. Might have knocked her knee out of whack but that could just be a pulled hammy. She was so desperately trying to limp away from him so it was hard to tell what the injury was. Then her caught her and well..” He lets the blonde fill in the image of what Sergei was capable of and sees her eyes fill once more with tears overflowing.

“Oh, and she was definitely coughing up blood,” Stevie continues, “so I think her kidneys might have been damaged. Once he saw the blood, Sergei unshackled her and took her upstairs to Tony’s bedroom and tied her to the bed. I didn’t think that was necessary since he beat her so badly.. Anyway, then he drove back to the Pleasure Dome to get her belt to help her heal. Of course they put her out with something strong so she wouldn’t escape while the belt’s on her. Sergei and the doc will figure it out. He’s the same one who sewed her up after the ambush in Bryant Park. He’s good.”

Kara sighed as the final tear dropped onto the cushion by her head, saying nothing. Numb with everything that had been done to her and to her friend.

“But hey, how are you feeling? You sure had a lot of action over the last 24 hours or so. You slept like a log most of the night.”

“I feel fuzzy and tired. Can I have a dose of crack, Stevie?”

“Well.... you already had two during the night. The stuff’s not free you know. In fact, it’s damn expensive, especially the primo stuff you’re getting from us.”

“Tony said I could have as much as I wanted if I did what he asked.”

“Yeah, well, that was before you were a naughty girl and tried to escape.”

“I didn’t really do anything though. Diana was the one who came up with everything. You saw what she was doing. What was I supposed to do? I was totally restrained!”

Stevie is stunned by Supergirl’s statement. She had just betrayed her friendship with Wonder Woman for the hope of a hit of crack. The woman she’d been crying about not two minutes ago was now thrown under the bus for the promise of a good buzz. If he had any doubts whether Supergirl was hooked, they had just evaporated in the still air of this clammy room.

“Yes, well,” Stevie says slowly, “if her plan had worked you’re not going to tell me you wouldn’t have tried to escape with her and probably have beaten the crap out of Sergei and I before you left. Hell, you probably would have killed us if you could have.”

“NO! I don’t do that. I don’t kill people.” Kara looks him straight in the eye.

“Fine, but you would have certainly broken me into little pieces I’m guessing.”

“No, I wouldn’t have. I don’t think so. I just would have flown Diana and I out of here.”

“To where?”

“I don’t know. Away somewhere. I didn’t plan that far in advance.”

“So you were part of the plan!” Stevie’s voice grows harsh, playing on her guilt and confusion.

“A small part, yes,” she says softly.

“Well, I’m not sure Tony would reward you with crack for what you did,” Stevie draws out the addicted blonde’s torment.

“But you gave me two hits during the night. Why are things different now?”

“That was just to keep you quiet so I could get some rest. As it was, I only got a couple of hours sleep and I’m tense all over from being at that editing board for the last four hours. I could use a little relaxation. Think you’d be willing to help with that?”

“What do you want?” Supergirl looks up from the table at him. “That you can’t take from me anyway.”

“I want to relax with a nice session of mutual sex. No escape plans. No funny stuff. You do that and I’ll give you as much crack as you want.”

“Deal,” Supergirl says immediately.

“I mean it, little lady. Mutual sex and no funny business or you’ll be the sorriest bitch on the planet. Sorrier than even what’s left of that Amazon girlfriend of yours upstairs. And that’s a promise!”

“I said it’s a deal and I meant it,” Supergirl licks her lip, already trembling a bit with withdrawal symptoms.

“Superhero code of honor?” Stevie stares down the blonde.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” she replies. “I’ll cross my heart as soon as you undo these buckles.”

And Stevie does it. Wrists and ankles freed, the famous teenage beauty sits up slowly, rubbing her wrists and shaking her head to clear the final doldrums away.

“One more thing, Supergirl,” Stevie says taking a step back. “I am not trying to be rude but before we do anything, you could use a shower, bigtime!”

The famous blonde teen’s sullen face suddenly lights up with a flashy smile. It’s not her full-tilt 1000-watt version but it cuts to Stevie’s heart nonetheless. With everything she’d gone through, with her stringy hair plastered to her forehead, her face drawn and weary by a heavy crack addiction, and even wearing a sweat-stained, reeking, cheap costume knock-off of her famous uniform, Supergirl’s incredible beauty still has the power to mesmerize.

“Stevie, that’s the best thing anybody’s said to me in days! Let me at it!” She actually has a small bounce in her step as she strides quickly past the stunned young mobster and heads for the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, wearing only a pair of blue men’s jockey briefs that Stevie had scrounged out of his overnight bag, Supergirl has her mouth wrapped around the young stud’s cock and is bobbing her head up and down on his joint with complete unabashed dedication. Sitting in a simple cushioned rolling chair from the control room that he wheeled out into the main room, Stevie is naked from the waist down, with only a plain white t-shirt on. His head is craned back and his hands are entwined in the damp but clean blonde hair of the teenage heroine.

“Ohhh. Slower. No. Stop. Stop entirely. I don’t want to shoot this soon,” he orders through heavy pants.” Supergirl stops her work and releases him as directed. The long, hard penis bobs in the air before her face, a face that looks expectantly at Stevie.

“You want to fuck now, right?” She nods at him, eager to get this over so she can get her crack.

“Damn straight. I’m hard as a rock and ready to plow fertile ground. Lie back and spread those beautiful legs of yours, blondie. Stevie’s coming for you!”

“On a cold stone floor? I think we can do better.” The eager to please blonde champion gets off her knees and stands before Stevie with the oversized briefs barely hanging on her hips. She pushes down on the waistband with the slightest effort and they fall in puddle around her ankles. Stepping out of them, Supergirl raises her right leg high in the air and rests it on Stevie’s shoulder. Clasping her hands around the wide-eyed Italian’s neck, the lithe maiden lifts herself up and slowly lowers her warm vagina onto the hard muscle waiting below.

“Ohhhh.....mannnnnnn!” Supergirl’s left hand moves from Stevie’s neck to his waist, counterbalanced by her right leg over his shoulder. She then wraps her right arm around his waist and links her hands behind his back. When she lifts her left leg and folds it over his shoulder, her weight settles slightly in his lap and he goes very deep within her.

“Mmmmm,” she hums with pleasure herself. And then begins to writhe her pelvis in circles, creating sensations within Stevie that went far beyond any conventional sex he’d ever had.

“You’re fucking amazing!” His hands are now clasped behind her back and he begins gently rocking his pelvis. Supergirl stops the gyrations and begins to match his rocking. Together they bring themselves through several layers of pleasure. Stevie buries his face between the teenage beauty’s breasts, inhaling her scent as he rocks himself toward oblivion. The generous size of Stevie’s rod is giving Supergirl the wriggling shivers as well and before long neither of them can handle the ever-ascending sensations rushing up from their loins to their brains.

Finally, gasping in delight, the couple comes together, holding each other tightly and feeling every inch of skin settled against the others body. Stevie sends out ropes of cum and Supergirl leans her head back and whimpers with joy at this final sensation. For several minutes they simply sit in the chair and breathe slowly, floating in a pool of pure pleasure.

Ten minutes later, Supergirl is wrapped in a towel and is taking a long pull on a glass crack pipe that a now jeans-clad Stevie has produced. Mere seconds after that, the glassy-eyed heroine’s head bobs slowly on her shoulders as she abandons all her worldly experience for the stupidity of a meaningless crack high.

When Sergei walks into the control room thirty minutes later, Stevie has finished the final edit and saved the entire file to disk.

“How’s Wonder Woman doing,” Stevie asks as he labels the disk with a Sharpie.

“She’s out cold but recovering nicely, thanks to that belt of hers. We doped her up with her favorite heroin as well as a nice heavy sedative. She’ll be out for hours. Tony called. He said we could bring the ladies back to the Pleasure Dome. The van is on the way. You been editing all this time?”

“Not exactly,” Stevie says with smirk.

“Did you get it on camera?”

“Nope! That one was just for me. And brother, if I died today, I’d die a happy man!”

“Da, well, let’s get them now in the boxes for transport. The van should be here in about twenty minutes.”

“I don’t think Supergirl has to go in a crate,” Stevie protests. “Let’s just tell her to keep her head down. She’s so hooked, she’ll do anything we ask.”

“Sounds too dangerous. Let’s do it Tony’s way. Play it safe.”

“Well, alright, you’re the security guy. I’m just saying the blonde’s a total junkie and is completely controllable at this point.”

“Just cause you got your rocks off with her makes you so sure.”

“Just how I got my rocks off with her, Sergei. Just how!” Stevie's smile said it all.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Poor Little Lost Girls
Part 52



On Tuesday afternoon, an unmarked, large white panel van pulls up to the loading dock of The Pleasure Dome and Stevie and Sergei hop out of the cab from opposite sides. Stevie goes to the back of the van and unlocks the back door, swinging it open just as Sergei pushes the coded keypad to raise the loading bay door. The hum and whine of heavy machinery bites through the air as the team of four men quickly carry one wooden crate and then another into the wide receiving area. Sergei tosses one of the men the keys to the van.

“Bring it back to rental place and get our deposit back and all the paperwork, Sal.”

“Sure, Sergei.”

“When you return with that stuff, you and your guys will be paid. See Carmine. He knows about it.”

“No problem, Sergei. See you later.” Sal and his team hop into the van, some in the back, his second in command beside him up front. They drive away down the street and turn left at the light just as it turns yellow.

“Close the door and let’s get these girls out of these crates,” Sergei says.

After the lids are pulled off the crates, stimulants are injected in the two drugged heroines to wake them up. Both sleeping champions are dressed in their original costumes that Sergei had returned with to Brooklyn when he realized he needed Wonder Woman’s power belt to help her heal. Even now the famous Amazon wears the magical belt because her healing is far from complete. Laid prone in the crate, dark purple bruises around Diana’s eyes testify to the awful beating she had suffered at the hands of an enraged Sergei. Her split lip and yellowish bruised chin showed that the healing had begun but had quite a way to go before she would be back to her normal beautiful self. On both her legs, more deep purple welts spotted the skin from her thigh to her shins. It had been a beating for the ages.

Slowly, the drugged beauties wake from their dopey lethargy. Stevie hoists Supergirl to a sitting position within the crate as does Sergei with Wonder Woman. Both are nodding dully and mumbling thickly.

“Uhhh...where are we?” Kara asks Stevie.

“We’re back home at the Pleasure Dome, sweet lady. Can you stand up?”

“...i...yes...I guess so...” Kara puts her palms on the edges of the crate and pushes off as she shakily stands up in the wooden box. She teeters a bit and Stevie steadies her with a hand on her forearm and one on her shoulder.

“Easy there, Supergirl. You’re still a little dizzy from the sleeping gas.”


“Why’d ju’ use it? I wooda come quietly ‘f’you jus’ asked

“Security precautions. Just routine.”

“Routine?” Supergirl’s anger helps bring her back awake.“You transport superheroes a lot do you, Stevie?” The withering look that Supergirl gives the young mobster prods his guilt. He knew she didn’t have to be gassed but Tony’s orders were not to be countermanded.

“You’re our eighth this week,” he replies trying to lighten the mood.

“Right,” Supergirl scoffs. “I thought we had something going, Tiger. You disappoint me.”

“I’m sorry, Supergirl. Tony calls the shots, you know.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Ooohhhhhhh....”

The blonde heroine turns to see a groaning Diana slouched heavily in Sergei’s grasp, her knees trembling with the effort to stand, a grimace plastered on her face. Her sweat-dampened hair is stuck to her forehead and dangling low to slightly obscure her face. Kara’s eyes go wide at the appalling sight of Diana’s beaten face. And the surprise continues when she sees the mighty Amazon is wearing her power belt. But yet her powerful ally is still barely strong enough to stand even with Sergei’s assistance.

“You Russian bastard! What have you done?”

“Calm down, davooshka. Your friend will be fine.”

“No thanks to you.”

“She could have been saving herself from this unpleasantness if she had just played along and munched your rug like a good girl instead of trying to get clever and pull off an escape. So, you see, she has paid for her actions.” Taking her jaw in his palm, while holding her up with a steely grip on the back of her bustier, Sergei looks deeply into the drooping eyes of the raven-haired heroine. “Now, maybe you will be getting it through your thick Amazon skull that you cannot be beating Sergei, yes? That I am the one who hands out the beatings?”

“..yes...” Diana mumbles, bleary, sick and humbled through her pain. This almost felt worse than the bullets. Of course they had her on morphine and heroin then. The power belt was helping somewhat but there was only so much it could do with all the damage that Sergei had inflicted. And worse yet, the intensity of the belt’s power seemed to be heightening all her senses, so the pain was still severe even through the healing. And that wasn’t all. The belt seemed to be intensifying her yawning need for heroin. It was overwhelming her. She couldn’t fight the insatiable hunger for it. And she thought the white powder would help with the pain as well.

“Can....I have my heroin?”

Sergei’s and Stevie’s eyebrows both shoot up at this stunning request by the Amazon princess. Kara bites her lower lip to stop herself in mid-gasp. Diana is lost!

“Of course, my beauty.” Sergei smiles widely now. My heroin she said! I have finally won my battle with this famous Amazon cow! “You want it right now?” Sergei is almost tender in his tone. He could afford to be now.

“Yes, please, Sergei. I need it....now...”

“Very well. Then now you shall have it. Right after you spread your legs for me here on the delivery platform!” He looks deeply into the deep blue eyes that take in his own arctic blue irises with fearful doubt. He means it, Diana realizes. It’s not a taunt. It’s a test.


“...alright...” she murmurs, lowering her eyes to her boots. She needed the drug desperately.

“Excellent. Stevie, please to take our sweet blonde champion up to her suite. We’ll be up in a few minutes. Diana and I have a transaction to complete.”

“Diana. Don’t do this.”

“Be quiet, Kara. I need this. I’m hurting. Surely you of all people should understand.”

“Yes, but....”

“Be silent, davooshka, and go!” Sergei snaps. “I’m sure Stevie will be happy to give you your crack upstairs. Everyone is to be enjoying her drug of choice, yes?”

“Please, Di. You don’t have to...”

“Kara! Shut up!” Wonder Woman barks. “Go upstairs and lose yourself in your crack pipe and leave me alone! You should be the last person on earth to judge me!”

“I’m not judging, Diana. I’m just trying to he...UUNFFF!” A hard shot to her kidneys from Stevie, cuts off her words and her breath in one sharp blow.

“Enough debate, Supergirl,” he says. “You heard Wonder Woman. She’s made her choice. Now let’s go upstairs and get your crack pipe glowing,”

After a meaningful look at Diana’s pouting face through her stringy black hair, Kara realizes her idol has feet of clay. But then it was no different than looking in a mirror really. Who was she to object?

“Fine,” she says softly. “Let’s go, Stevie.” Supergirl turns around and heads for the elevator twenty paces away. Just before the automatic doors slide shut, the blonde beauty calls

out loudly, “I’ll make some tea for you, Diana. Come up soon, sweetheart!” The ride up to the penthouse is spent in thick silence as Supergirl tries with all her power not to sob openly before a watching Stevie.

“She’ll be fine, Kara.” He says, putting his hand on her shoulder which she shrugs off harshly.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarls.





“Okay, Wonder Woman, if you want your heroin, lie on the floor.”

Slowly, in pain, the famous Champion of All Women, gets to her knees, then sits on he rump and swings out her legs. Finally she lowers herself down until she is flat on her back.

“Spread your knees apart, junkie!”

She does, looking away toward the elevator. Poor Kara. She looked so distraught. I have let her down. Her and me both!

“Look at me, Wonder Woman!”

The prone heroine looks up at the big Russian mobster standing over her. He is big. He is tall. He is not to be challenged anymore. Diana had learned her lesson finally. His eyes take in her face and body, savoring his conquest.

“It is too bad I had to beat you so savagely, my dear. But now, I think all that unpleasantness is behind us once and for all, da?”

“..yes, Sergei.”

“Good. Pull down your costume panties, Wonder Woman.”

She does, slowly, because it hurts everywhere. She places the costume briefs next to her and then lies back again. She hoped the pain would be much less under the effects of the heroin. There was a lot of pain to be numbed.

The tall Russian gets to his knees and pushes Wonder Woman’s knees even wider apart, situating his body between them. He wavers over her in triumph.

“Sit up and play with my prick, Wonder Woman. At the moment, you are too ugly for me to get a hard-on without some help from your talented warrior hands.”

Sitting up with a wince, Diana complies without protest, reaching over to Sergei’s fly and unzipping it. She pulls his warm, limp penis out of the fly of his boxers and gently grips it in her fist, pulsing her palm slowly, repeatedly. When the muscle begins to harden and extend, Diana begins stroking it up and down in slow, patient caresses. Up and down in the slowest motions, she rubs Sergei’s penis with a patience born of fear of any sudden reprisal. But the blond Russian gangster is smiling broadly as the famous Wonder Woman obediently jerks him off.

Once she feels the rod pulse with a steely stiffness, Diana increases her stroke speed, her palm sliding up and down in a steady rhythm of five strokes every twenty seconds or so.

“Enough. Lie back and tilt up your pelvis, hero. I am to be entering you now.”

“But I am not ready yet,” Diana complains. “It will be too dry...for you.”

“This is why there is spit.”

There is a hawking, a gob of white, a quick slide of his palm over his member and then Sergei is pressing his penis hard against the folds of Diana’s labia. He presses down on her, his powerful body forcing her shoulders against the cold concrete floor. His busy hands pin her left thigh flat to the floor and her head there too with a powerful palm against her forehead.

“UUNGGHNN!”

And now he is inside her, the width and length of him invading the very depths of her with his steely heat. He does not move the rod at all but rather savors her own heat around his member. He kisses her mouth, his hard lips pressing against her soft plump ones. She pulls away with a jerk.

“...don’t have to be so rough...I agreed to th...mmmffff!”

His tongue leaps between her lips and explores the full measure of her mouth, twisting around her tongue and flicking against the back of her teeth. She relents and gives her tongue to him, working with his to inflame is desire. If he is excited it will either end sooner or he will try to give her some pleasure. She knows he’s capable of it. This isn’t the first time they’ve connected in sweat. Although right now, Sergei is the only one working up any perspiration. Diana is unmoved by the assault on her body.

Perhaps sensing this, the hands move. One goes to her breast to squeeze it firmly. The other squirms between their bodies to find her clit. The fingers rub over the area but not gently. Sergei seems to be making a point about domination. Even as his tongue prohibits any vocal complaints, his hands continue to molest the famous Amazon.

Once again Diana jerks her face away from Sergei’s tongue wrestling.

“We can work with each other instead of against each other,” she blurts. “Make it more enjoyable.”

“I’m enjoying myself,” Sergei says, pulling down Wonder Woman’s top to expose her right breast. He dives onto the nipple with his mouth, nipping it harshly to pull a gasp from the distraught heroine. Then he begins to suck on it and tongue it rapidly in flicking circles and slow caresses.

Finally! A little pleasure for me.

The hand in her crotch also logs into pleasure central as well and the circling digits raise the Amazon’s temperature considerably in less than a minute. With a soft moan, she feels Sergei’s penis begin to move within her now, his hardness rubbing her in all the right ways.

“Now you’re starting to act like the whore I know,” Sergei says with contempt as his body pushes and pulls against the famous figure sprawled beneath him.

Diana scowls at this crude, demeaning insult, stiffening against him in anger. And then his hands and his penis do a combination of wonderfully unique stroking maneuvers that obliterate her fury with pleasure. Even his tongue on her nipples comes into play and the rhythm picks up with an unexpected sexual fury from Sergei that she had thought was a while away yet. Apparently not! His body humps against hers with a fervor that lights up all her bumpers in a sequence that has the heels her boots thumping against the hard floor like pinball flippers in the hands of the devil himself. They ride the wave of ecstacy together, lost in the crashing surf of pleasure and swept onto the sands of time lost.

.....which is damn near impossible on a concrete floor so you have to admire their tenacity.


* * *


Upstairs, Supergirl, baked to perfection by a full pipe of premium crack is yeowling like a cat in heat as Stevie slips her his long hard one. Again and again he drives into her as she plants her palms on the thick living room carpet and digs into it with her nails as he takes her from behind. His knees are rubbing against the insides of hers as her panties are stretched wide. His hands fondle her tits suspended below her as they wobble pleasantly in his palms. It is a brief co-joining but satisfying beyond measure for both as they, too, find themselves swept onto the shores of ecstatic forgetfulness.

....which is much, much easier on thickly-cushioned carpet than on concrete, as you would well imagine.


* * *


In the suite below, unaware that his two captive heroines have returned because neither Stevie nor Sergei had found a free moment to alert Tony of their return, the young Mafia don meets with Carmine to discuss what to do about Don Lupenzo.

“I called him, Ton, but he hung up on me. But then we knew he wouldn’t be pleased by anything but a news report about Supergirl’s release from her long captivity.”

“Yeah, well, fuck him. When Supergirl is back and feeling particularly needy of a crack high, I’m going to send her after him to give him a good scare.”

“Think she’ll do it?”

“Well, Stevie called me this morning and said she’s a complete addict now. I’m not sure what happened there because he was light on details on the phone, but he sounded pretty damn convinced. Still I told him to gas her for the transport just to be on the safe side. They should have been back by now. Wonder what’s keeping them. I hope there’s no trouble.”

“I’m sure the girls are in good hands,” Carmine answers. “Those boys know how to handle things.”

At that moment, both heroines are lying on the floor with their breasts clamped in the palms of Stevie up in the penthouse and Sergei on the loading dock. Handling things indeed.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Complete Abdication
Part 53-A


The mighty Champion of All Women stumbles weakly into the elevator, towed by Sergei who firmly grips her elbow. After the brutal fucking session on the cement loading dock floor, the bruises she’d suffered from the beating by the powerful Russian felt tight and sore. She was very thirsty, slightly disoriented and felt an immense need in her gut for the relief that only Istanbul Express could provide.

“Your pussy is very tight, whore. I like that,” the big blonde Russian says, staring at the brushed steel doors and not even looking at the tired heroine in blue and red swaying beside him.

“Are we going upstairs to get the heroin now?” Wonder Woman crosses her arms over her stomach and bends forward, groaning softly due to a nasty stomach cramp.

“Da. I told you I would give it to you and I will. When you behave as instructed, you will be finding I am to be very generous. A pussycat.”

“...good...” Diana murmurs, as she shivers from the withdrawal symptoms as the elevator ascends to the penthouse. “...i...really need it...now...”

“I know you do, Diana. But you will have to be learning how to inject the heroin yourself. I do not have time to always be babysitting you. But for this time, I will shoot you up. You are shaking so much, you couldn’t hit a vein and you don’t want to screw that up, I guarantee this. If you miss, it gets nasty and dangerous and you don’t get the effects you so richly are deserving. Besides, it can create nasty bruising that Tony would not like. We want you to look as good as possible for your video scenes.”

“...uh huh...” the bleary, addicted heroine mumbles in reply.

When they reach the penthouse, the elevator doors slide apart to reveal Stevie standing there ready to go downstairs.

“Tony wants to see us in his suite,” the young hoodlum states somberly. “He was surprised it took so long for us to get back here. I didn’t tell him about you and her,” he says, nodding at the numbly swaying Wonder Woman. “Or about Supergirl and me. Not yet anyway. Hope he’s not too pissed about it.”

“Why would he be? We have just been training them according to his plans. Together, both of these girls are now stabilized and obedient. Isn’t that right, Wonder Whore?”

“...uh, yes, of course..certainly...Sergei...” She answers softly, nodding distractedly. “Uugghhhn! ... ..please...shoot me up! I need the heroin.....now....” She pleads shamelessly, hoping to get Sergei to administer the heroin immediately. Her cramps are quite severe.

“Tell Tony I will be down in just a couple of minutes. I have to fill this famous Amazon princess’ veins with junk so she doesn’t pitch a whining temper tantrum. Isn’t that right, Wonder Woman?” Sergei lifts the grimacing heroine’s chin and looks into the blood-shot half-lidded blue eyes of the confused beauty standing by his side.

“..uh...yes...Sergei...y’ur right....i...do...really...need the heroin....now...” she responds, biting her lip as she bobs her head dully.

“Fine,” Stevie says, stepping into the elevator as Sergei pulls the beaten, befuddled, shuffling raven-haired female out and into the suite, “just don’t take too long. Tony seemed very concerned.”

“I’ll be down in no time. Where’s my blonde davooshka?”

“She’s taking a shower.”

“Okay, I won’t be long with this one. Hey, Stevie,” Sergei says, stopping short and looking directly into Stevie’s eyes, “lighten up. We did a good job in Brooklyn. Tony should be pleased. I do not know what crawled up his butt, but nothing we have done with these girls should bother him. It’s probably something else.”

Stevie nods solemnly, finally lets go of the “Hold elevator” button and the doors close with a quiet thump.

“Okay, you pathetic junkie, it’s time to get you your Istanbul Express!”

“...good...” the most famous resident of Themyscira replies thankfully. She needed the dose desperately. She felt slightly nauseous and was now shivering violently.

Once the twosome is in the bedroom, Sergei instructs Diana to sit on the edge of the bed. Taking a heroin kit out of the night table beside the bed, he unzips it with quick, practiced movements. This isn’t the first woman he’s gotten addicted to the white death. She’s just the most famous one.

“Give me your arm,” he says, sitting down on the bed. Diana holds up her right arm, extending it straight out across Sergei’s body who sits right beside her. He takes the pale brown rubber hose and ties it tightly around her bicep, swelling her veins slightly. “Make a tight fist and hold it so I can see your veins,” he commands. She does and he sees the blue veins rise even more prominently through her skin. Tapping a good-sized pulsing vein in the crook of her elbow, he smiles broadly.

“This is the very one I’ve been using. It’s held up nicely since we’ve started you on the ‘H’, my beauty.” Her skin has only a few brown pin hole marks on the inner elbow with one slightly larger than the rest.

With practiced efficiency he handles the vials and spoons and book of matches effortlessly, heating the mixture and then carefully drawing it into the syringe.

“You should be thanking Tony every day that he is providing this most excellent heroin. Pure, cut with only the best stuff and not rat poison or other crap that can kill you. And you don’t even have to pay anything for it. He’s quite generous to you. He must like you.”

“Shoot me up now, pleeeaaaaseee,” Wonder Woman begs as Sergei teases her, holding the syringe aloft and slowly squeezing out the tiniest drops to clear any air in the barrel.

“Certainly, Wonder Woman. But I need you to be holding still.”

Freezing in place as best she can considering the tremors jacking through her body, the famous heroine watches with wide eager eyes as the needle finally enters her arm and the plunger is slowly pressed forward, delivering her relief to her in a slow steady stream into her blood. She sighs deeply waiting for the drug to kick in. Sergei pulls out the needle and unties the rubber hose. It springs off her arm and releases the pent up drug in her forearm. With incredible speed, the heroin circulates within her. And then her eyes roll up slightly under the lids and her head falls backward into the nestling curve of her shoulders.

“Aahhhhhh,” she breathes, floating with pleasure from the drug now as it swirls into her brain and makes everything perfect. “....gooood...” she murmurs and lowers herself back onto the soft mattress, barely aware of doing so, simply relaxing in the pool of warmth she finds herself bathing in.

With her thighs spread apart, her soft full breasts rising and falling under the wings of the bright gold eagle on her bustier, her boot tips turned inward on the soft carpet and her arms limp at her sides, Wonder Woman lies sprawled on the bed in a drugged stupor, blissed out on heroin without a concern in the world for now. She barely even registers the sensation of Sergei removing her power belt and then squeezing her breast slowly and lasciviously. He then swiftly packs up the drug kit, puts it in the night table drawer and heads toward bedroom door. He stops and turns to look at the lewdly-posed, drooling champion with her mouth agape and her breath sighing out loudly.

“They all succumb eventually. Even the famous Wonder Woman.” He smiles smugly and softly closes the door behind him.


* * *


Six minutes later, downstairs, Tony is pacing the carpet in his living room as Carmine and Stevie and Sergei sit on the long, curved leather sectional sofa, drinking their scotches in heavy tumblers as they listen to him lay out their immediate strategy.

“I know, at first, that we were going to release Supergirl to ease up on all the pressure from the cops, the public and Don Lupenzo. But I got to thinking that I was limiting my thinking and our options here. First, the public really doesn’t care as much about Supergirl since the DVD series has been released. They see her as a kind of super slut and the outcry for their champion has died down considerably. That bank robbery didn’t help her cause much either. The cops are still in our pockets regarding her, for the same reasons and because we pay them generously.

“So, that leaves Gino and the families for whom he speaks. Now you guys may or may not know that there’s bad blood between Don Lupenzo and myself. Carmine knows this all too well. He was there when my father was killed and took a bullet during that incident. I, luckily, was in the bathroom at the time and the hit team, which was arranged by Gino according to my sources, never came to look for me. That’s Gino’s bad luck. I will see to that.”

Tony’s men look at their leader with a mix of sympathy and dread. They know Tony’s ingenious skills and all are glad they’re on his side. But they all are still concerned about the families behind Don Lupenzo and how they will respond if even more negative publicity is created by Tony about the Mob.

As if reading their minds, Tony speaks to that issue next.

“We think Don Lupenzo is speaking for the rest of the family when he threatens us, but I know some of the key players. I’ve met them in the past and have gauged their resolve. If we can cut down on the negative publicity, I think the money we’re injecting into the general fund from the DVD series will keep them happy. Gino has an ax to grind with me, but I’m not convinced that he speaks for everyone else. So I’m going to go after Gino.”

“I hear he’s holed up now, Ton,” Carmine says. “I’m not sure we’re gonna be able to get to him. Frankly I think we’re more exposed than he is right now.”

“You’re forgetting about our ace in the hole, Carmine,” Tony says with a wide smile.

“What would that be?” Stevie asks from the other end of the sofa.

“You should know, Stevie,” Tony replies, turning toward his young protege. "You’re the one who told me through Sergei that our ace was completely under our control now?”

“Our ace...?” Stevie looks quizzically at Tony.

“Supergirl! Didn’t you say she was completely addicted to the crack now?”

“Well, yeah....”

“You think she’ll do just about anything for a fix, right? What makes you think that, Stefano?”

Stevie face deepens to a bright red and he looks down at the floor between his shoes.

“This is not the time to be shy, boy! A lot depends on this and I trust your gut, but I need a reason that you’re so convinced that you didn’t think we even had to knock her out to transport her back here this morning.”

“Because of how she fucked me, Tony.”

“What the fuck?!” Carmine blusters and almost spills his drink before setting it down roughly on the glass table with a sharp crack of glass on glass. The table doesn’t crack because the glass is tempered but only just by a hair.

“Carmine, settle down and let’s hear the gentleman’s thinking, please,” Tony says calmly. He is at his best when things get dicey – and his most dangerous. He nods toward Stevie to have him continue.

“She did it willingly. All her own just ‘cause she knew there would be crack at the end of the session. I told her no tricks, no funny stuff and she totally complied. No bullshit,guys, she put those beautiful long legs of hers on my shoulders, one at a time, then gently settled down on my dick and rode me slowly and passionately, all for the hit of crack I’d promised. There was no hesitation in her at all.”

Everyone in the room had their eyebrows furrowed in concentration at this revelation. Sergei was imagining the sex scene with envy. Carmine was too, wondering if he would be able to handle that position at his age. Tony breezed past the mental image to the reality of Stevie’s assessment. The boy was right and Tony’s smiled. His plan would work.

“Excellent,” he said, striding to the bar to refill his scotch. “Great work, Stevie. Good, heads up thinking. I hope I didn’t screw it up by having you drug her for the transport. It could have stoked some resentment in her toward me.

“Well, when we got back here this morning I gave her some more crack in the penthouse and she seemed far from resentful while we were fucking,” Stevie smiled.

“Obviously, she likes you, Stefano, or to be more precise, she likes your cock! But we’re talking about me here now. So...I guess the only way to be sure how she feels is to see how she responds to the suggestion of me fucking her,” Tony muses aloud.

“What makes you think her willingness to suck cock or fuck like a bunny under the influence or the promise of crack will to translate into doing your bidding of taking out Gino?” Sergei looks Tony directly in the eye as he poses this thorny question.

“I’ve had crack whores working for me for ten years, Sergei. And so have you, so you know that most of them would sell their own babies for a hit. If Supergirl is truly addicted, and we all believe she is, she’ll do what we ask, short of killing, I’d say. And we probably don’t have to kill Gino. Just scare the shit out of him with Supergirl showing up at his hideout and reducing his place to kindling.”

“Use her as our enforcer, huh,” Carmine says, nodding slowly, grasping the possibilities.

“With Gino or anyone else we need to intimidate,” Tony nods purposefully.

“Not just her, either,” Sergei adds. “I believe Wonder Woman is close to this level of subservience as well. Or will be in a day or so.”

“Really?” Tony turns and looks at Sergei with a smile. “So the Babe did hit one out of the park as he promised,” Tony says, referring to Sergei’s earlier promise to break the famous Amazon down to a workable addict.

“Da, Tony. A fucking walk-off home run, if I may be so bold. She spread her legs for me on the loading dock this morning when we got back here for the promise of a shot of heroin. I had to teach her a very severe lesson yesterday when she tried yet another escape attempt when making love to Supergirl.”

“You boys have been very busy!” Tony says incredulously. “How is she doing?”

“She’s healing. Slowly. I came back and put her power belt on her because, well, the beating I gave her was quite vehement, let me say. No permanent scars as directed, of course,” Sergei concludes.

“Hmmm. She doesn’t still have the power belt on now, does she?” Tony ask with alarm.

“No. I removed it before I came down and secured it in the safe. Right after I gave her the fix,” responds the Russian mobster.

“You get any of these sex scenes or addict shots on camera by any chance?” Tony looks at Sergei first, then at Stevie.

“We got the session with the girls going at it. Very hot,” Stevie replies. “But uh, the one with Supergirl and me in Brooklyn wasn’t captured. Things happened kind of quick, Tony. Uh, sorry about that.”

“No sweat, Stevie. We got plenty of Supergirl stuff. One lost scene doesn’t matter. But what it represents is gold. How about your session on the loading dock, Serge?”

“It was delightful!” The Russian bear smiles like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

“I don’t give a fuck if you thought it was delightful, you dumb ox, I’m asking if it got recorded?”

Sergei gulps and looks at Stevie. “Are there camera’s down there?”

“A couple. I’ve got to check the security tapes. It won’t be nearly as good as what we’ve got on Supergirl or on Wonder Woman in Brooklyn or in the penthouse with all those expensive cameras. If there is one, it might have a kinky voyeuristic quality that I can play with. Oh, and, as I said, Tony, there’s also the session with remote cameras from upstairs with Supergirl and myself from about 30 minutes ago. Pretty standard stuff. I took her from behind with her arms outstretched and her nails digging into the carpet.”

“Well, very, very busy boys, indeed,” Tony is smiling even as he shakes his head. “I may have to cut back on your access privileges, gentlemen. You seem to be very hard on the help. Pun intended!”

“We’re just making sure the girls, uh, that they are well-trained, Tony,” Sergei states.

“Right!” Tony scoffs at this weak protest. “Stevie, look into the security tapes for the loading dock area,” Tony says. “Also, we’re going ahead with your plan of soiling Wonder Woman’s precious reputation by having her willingly service a gang of terrorists with her mouth and pussy in front of horrified live spectators. If Sergei believes she’s that close to doing our bidding, we’re very close to being able to release her series to the public. That kind of money, possibly over another 100 million, if it’s nearly as successful as the Supergirl series, will go a long way to loosening the pressure from the families that Don Lupenzo claims to speak for.”

“Tony,” Sergei raises his hand as if in school. “I am still concerned about Gino Lupenzo and his capability of hitting us over the short term. How soon can we get Supergirl to back him off?”

“I’d say we’ll know in about an hour. I’m about to go upstairs and see how willing she is to play ball by playing with my balls.”

“You might have to wait a couple of hours. She just had a hit about...” Stevie checks his watch, “45 minutes ago.”

“Fine, we’ll give her some time to build up her motivation to please me. In the meantime, Carmine, you check on your men and see if anything unusual is going on out on the streets with Gino’s men. Maybe they’re making a play for our territory or something. Sergei, double check this building’s security for loopholes. Stevie, check out the loading dock security tapes and see what’s there. We’ll meet back here in four hours if that’s okay with everyone?”

The general nodding and clinking ice cubes as the men quickly finish their drinks answers Tony in the affirmative and the meeting breaks up with everyone going their own way with their chores in mind.

Tony sits down in the matching leather armchair after his three lieutenants leave the suite and slowly drinks his scotch, staring at a framed picture yet not even seeing it as he thinks over his plans and searches them for weak points.


* * *


Walking out of the bathroom while drying her hair one-handedly with a towel, a naked Supergirl is wearing nothing more than a thin glowing green choker when she opens the door to the bedroom in her suite. She is shocked to see Diana sprawled on the bed with her mouth open and a shiny line of drool sliding out of the corner of her mouth.

“Oh....Diana!” She hurries forward to look at her friend more closely. Bending over the inert Amazon, Kara sees the dazed euphoria that overwhelms her friend. “Tch, tch, tch,” she clucks. “Heroin,” she says flatly. “Let’s get you up, girl, and get you back to your old self.”

Pulling up on Diana’s limp arms, she yanks a low, throaty groan from the obliterated Themysciran warrior.

“....dun’t...”

“Come on, Di. Help me here a little.”

“....nuh....wanna jus lie here...wanna jes...feel good...”

“...you’ll feel better once you get up and get some tea and crackers in you,” Kara says, pulling up on the dead weight that is her friend.

“...leave me....lone!” Diana barks angrily. “..you...hurting....m’arms...!”

“Oh, I....I didn’t realize,” Kara says with deep regret, forgetting about the beating even with the bruises all over her friend’s body. She was so used to Diana shrugging off pain and battle wounds that she was surprised to hear the complaint. Then she remembered Stevie describing Sergei’s beating and she suddenly releases her grip on Diana’s arms in a wave of shame at her own lack of compassion.

Diana’s body flops backward onto the mattress and bounces once before coming to rest back in the same position. The famous face goes back to slack befuddlement as she swims in the soft sensation of her liquid high.

“...gooood....” she murmurs.

“Where does it hurt?” Supergirl sits beside her prone friend and strokes her forehead gently.

“....everywhere....nowhere..............”

A naked Kara with just a towel around her neck and her damp blonde hair framing her face looks down with deep concern at Wonder Woman. There wasn’t anything she could do except try to get her friend moving so the drug would circulate faster and spend its morbid energy in her and be done with it. She thought Diana had drifted off to sleep when she spoke softly again.

“....somewhere....” The heroin was playing with Diana’s brain the way a child unfeelingly plays with a lowly bug. Making it walk this way and that while constantly blocking its path for cruel amusement. Diana’s mind wanders aimlessly from thought to thought, a stream of consciousness with no real direction to it whatsoever.

“...ova’ the rainbow............bluebirds fly....”

A tear runs down Kara’s cheek at her friend’s drugged helplessness. And for herself. She knew she was no better than this when she was feeling the crack. Except she was usually much more energized, more crazed for excitement. And sex. She always seemed to need hard, pounding sex when she got into her crack high. It led to a rush of shame within her just thinking about it. An immediate longing for her own drug clings to the pit of her stomach for a moment. Since she had enjoyed it so recently she was able to push it out of her mind for now. She knew she wouldn’t be able to later.

“Some pair of superheroines we are,” a bare-assed, frowning Supergirl says to the slack-mouthed Amazon on the bed beside her.




Forty minutes later, the two friends are wearing lush silk bathrobes over bras and panties while slowly sipping tea at the kitchen table.

“They’ve beaten us, Kara. Literally. Figuratively. Every way you can think of. There’s nothing we can do but try to please them so they don’t hurt us anymore than they think is necessary.” Wonder Woman glumly picks up a saltine cracker and bites off a corner.

“You’re probably right, Diana. And nobody seems to be coming for us. It doesn’t feel like anyone cares about us anymore. Certainly not about me. When I saw how that crowd reacted to the table of sex DVDs of me, it made me realize how important our reputations are....or were...to our being trusted and honored by the justice system and the people. Without it, it’s like we’re just part of the stream of bad feelings and fear that everyone lives in these days. Without our reputations, we can’t inspire or rise above the level of self-interest that envelopes everyone, you know?”

“Yes, Kara. I guess you’re right about that. But right now we can’t take the long view. We just have to try to keep each other safe and try to make it through this without getting killed. We can’t think like superheroes right now. It can get us killed. Believe me, I came very close the last time. If it weren’t for my power belt, I’m pretty sure I would have died of my injuries. That Sergei is just too much for me.” Diana’s voice gets thick and then it cracks with emotion. “He scares me so much, Kara.”

“I know, Di,” the beautiful blonde says, patting Diana’s hand resting on the table beside hers. “He scares me, too. I hate him and fear him as much as you do.”

“You know, I remember seeing how you acted around him when I first arrived in this hell-hole. I wouldn’t have believed you could be so cowed by anyone. Now I know why. I’m sorry if I judged you too harshly, Kara.”

“And I’m sorry if I did the same to you, Diana. We both have these addictions now and there’s no way to fight them given our circumstances. Maybe if we were free we could get treatment, counseling, the whole regime to get ourselves back to who we were. But in here....” She lets her voice trail off in hopeless despair.

“We have to look out for each other. We’re all we have,” Wonder Woman concludes the thought, palming Kara’s cheek and looking into her blue eyes. “No judgmental attitudes. Nothing but looking out for each other’s back, okay?”

“Okay,” Supergirl nods, agreeing in the softest voice. “And if there’s a way out, it will have to come from outside help from now on.”

“I think that’s best, too,” Diana replies, sipping her tea and then sighing deeply.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Complete Abdication
Part 53-B



By 3:45 that Tuesday afternoon, Tony is entering the penthouse suite at The Pleasure Dome. He is actually quite eager to see if Supergirl would be as energetic in her response to his sexual demands as she had been with Stevie. If so, he felt she would no doubt graduate to her role as his enforcer without further hesitation. A lot depended on her being the willing crack addict who would do as she was told for her reward of a hit of the prime stuff. He is pretty confident but you could never be sure with these superheroines. They had reserves that still surprised him. Nevertheless, the famous Maid of Steel had been pretty thoroughly trained and humiliated. By now, she should be cowed enough and addicted enough to do his bidding. Her talk with Diana in the kitchen had been recorded and he’d viewed it only a few minutes ago. He didn’t think they were playacting for the cameras. Still, he had a tiny edge of wariness as he walked out of the elevator.

Supergirl is sitting on the couch curled up with an old Cosmopolitan magazine. She is still wearing nothing more than her yellow silk robe over a matching set of pale blue satin bra and panties. With a ballpoint pen in her hand, she is taking some kind of quiz he guessed. She looks up when the elevator doors slid open, sees it is Tony and then goes back to her quiz.

“Good afternoon, Kara. It’s nice to have you back here. How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” she replies, circling an answer on the magazine page before her with a scowl.

“I want to apologize. Stevie said that he didn’t think you had to be drugged for the ride back here this morning and I was overzealous about ensuring your safety during the process.”

“My safety?” Kara raises her head, her scowl deepening. “Really, Mr. Bonano?”

“Fine. You’re right. My lack of trust in you. It was wrong. I was wrong. You deserved better.”

“I should say so,” she nods vigorously, milking his guilt with her vehemence. “I had agreed to that bank job and then you don’t trust me to sit in the back of a van and not try to escape. I would have thought you knew me better than that.”

“Well, you did spill your guts to the media about me during that failed bank heist. I wouldn’t exactly say it was a shining moment of trust. You clearly had an agenda of your own.”

“I had all the money bundled up just the way you wanted, didn’t I? I may have gotten a little nervous and spouted off a little, that’s true. But I would have gotten your money if it weren’t for that other gang and the red kryptonite and all that.”

“Let’s just say that I do trust you now. I’m not here to argue with you. I come in peace, my dear. With a gift of your favorite type of magic pellets: Vanilla Pudding, as you like to call it.”

Supergirl’s eyes widen and she licks her lips in anticipation of her coming high.

“I thought we would relax and enjoy each other’s company for a couple of hours. Where is Diana?”

“She’s sleeping in the bedroom. She’s had a horrible time since Sergei beat her to an inch of her life. I hate that man, Tony. So does Diana.”

“Well, I gave him the responsibility to see that you girls have what you need and that everything runs smoothly up here when clients come in. He’s very committed to making sure that happens. Sometimes he gets carried away in his duties, it’s true, especially if he thinks he notices something like an escape attempt. You have to realize there will be repercussions, young lady. I won’t apologize for him carrying out my orders.”

“He’s brutal. He almost killed Diana.”

“I hope she learned her lesson from it. And you. He’s not above doing it again if he thinks it’s necessary. Do you think it will be necessary again, Kara?”

“Rao, no! No, Tony. Not at all. Diana and I talked about it. We don’t want anymore trouble. Or anymore discipline.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. Very pleased.”

“What would you like, Tony?” The blonde pats the couch next to her and throws the magazine on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “I’m done with that dumb quiz anyway.”

“What was it about?”

“It helps rate your ability to take charge of a situation. I didn’t do that well. Guess I’m off my game lately,” Kara concludes with a mumbled aside. Talk about understatements!

“I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself. That whole episode in the South Bronx with those three scumbags would give anyone a crisis of confidence. But you came through it. Hell, when I opened the door to that apartment and you tossed that big brute Paul across the room with a simple jerk of your wrist, I was very proud of you, I have to say.”

“It was one of my better moments in a very trying few months, I’ll give you that.” Supergirl rubs her fingertips up and down Tony’s forearm, gently caressing it as she leans into him. “I was actually glad to see you there. When I looked through the door, I was shocked that you found me.”

“I never stopped looking from the moment you crashed through the ceiling of that bank,” Tony replies, looking deeply into Supergirl’s blue eyes. “I really enjoy your company, Kara. I love your sense of humor and I admire your courage and strength.”

“Really?” Kara is surprised at this admission from the mob don. “I thought I was just, you know, a product of yours to peddle to the highest bidder, a commodity to be used as you see best.”

“When I first took you in, I admit I did think that way. But after all this time, I’ve come to see your strength and vitality in the face of overwhelming odds and I can’t help but admire it. Ask Carmine or Stevie. They’ll tell you I am softer about you than any other girl I’ve ever had... around me,” Tony says, downplaying her captivity with a twist of words.

“I guess that means something,” Kara says quietly. “You probably want to me to fuck you now, right, before you give me the crack?”

“I’d feel better if it were something you wanted to do as well. To share our respect. Before or after the crack. It’s your choice.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Whatever makes you happy?”

“Well, uh, let’s do it before I smoke the pellets. I don’t absolutely need them right now. I can wait.”

“That’s nice to hear, Kara. Nothing would please me more than to savor your body and for you to enjoy mine.”

“That’s sweet of you to say. I guess I’ll start by pleasing you first. I do enjoy making men hard, teasing them a bit.”

“I’m all yours, Kara.”

The beautiful blonde teen leans forward and her robe gaps wide to display her generous breasts cupped in bright blue satin. She reaches her hand over, placing it on Tony’s crotch, gently squeezing him, feeling the roll of his penis beneath the suit pants. She lets go, then rubs her palm over the crotch in slow circles, enlarging the soft muscle there until the lump straightens into a noticeable bulge beneath the fabric.

“Mmmm,” Tony murmurs with pleasure.

Ziiiipppppp.

Supergirl’s hand slips past the zipper and brushes through the fly of the silk boxers to the warm rod of flesh. Palming it gently, she squeezes the muscle and gets a pulsing response back in the palm of her hand. She smiles with a gentle twitch that reveals the satisfaction of having the young don under her gentle control.

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt this fella,” she says. “Did he miss me?”

“What do you think?” Tony looks directly into her beautiful blue eyes with earnest desire.

“What do I know? He could have a very full social calendar,” Kara replies coyly. “You certainly have enough beautiful women around here to keep him occupied.” Her hand continues to squeeze his penis with regular pulsing motions that harden Tony more and more.

“His only eye is for you.”

“Ewww. That’s gross!” She stops squeezing.

“I apologize,” Tony says immediately, even as he reaches into the gap of her robe to palm her breast, his hand squeezing soft flesh and cool satin all in one gentle compression. “But, it’s true! I haven’t been with anyone for days.” His hand slowly mauls the young heroine with tender manipulations that roughen up her breathing a bit.

“You’re a cad. Why should I believe you?” Nevertheless, she starts her squeezing back up and Tony has to ask her to shift his straining member around so the boxers don’t constrain it. She obligingly pulls the long muscle out of the fly, it wavers in the air between them.

“First, I’ve been too busy. Second, these girls don’t hold a candle to you in my eyes.”

“Fwattuhwhur,” Supergirl replies, her mouth suddenly holding the tip of Tony’s penis. She sucks firmly on the fully-engorged tip of the hard cock, sucking in her cheeks and holding him tightly in her warm mouth. Her right hand reaches down into his pants and gently cups his balls. Her left hand grips his shaft and begins sliding up and down the length of it in slow, persistent strokes.

His own hand continues to fondle the young blonde’s breasts, quickening his motions up and around and under the bra, then squeezing the nipple through the blue satin. His other hand palms into the depths of her hair, his fingers stroking the blonde tresses outward, onto the back of her robe.

“...uuuhhnnnn...” Tony groans with lustful appreciation of Kara’s steady mouth and hand work.

Drawing back a bit, Supergirl works up a measure of saliva and lets it flow out of her mouth onto the head of Tony’s cock, the tiny clear rivulets sliding down the surface momentarily before the eager teenage champion slathers it all around the bulging purplish glans with her wide, stroking tongue.

“Ahh!” Tony jerks with pleasure, cupping his hand against the back of Kara’s head and holding it in his compressed fingertips as she gives his penis head a rousing tongue bath even as her hands continue to fondle his balls and stroke his shaft.

“Uhhh....slower...getting me too excited.”

“Oh, whass wong? Ith the powafhuul mafia bigthot woozing contwol?”

“No! Really!”

Reluctantly, Kara takes her mouth off Tony’s cock and stops all her handwork. She raises herself up on her elbow, looking up from his crotch at the young don is sitting over her, breathing rapidly, trying to recover his control.

“You can cum in my mouth, you know,” she says confidently. “We’re past my having problems with that.”

“I know. I just wanted to be inside you.”

“You’re young. Who says you can’t cum twice. You have a schedule to keep? Another appointment with some other woman after me?” Kara sulks beneath him. Her lower lip rolled outward. I wanted him to cum on my schedule. But not Tony. Everything has to be his way!

“Nothing like that. It’s just that I wanted it a certain way,” he says, confirming his need to manage everything.

“Spontaneity doesn’t count for anything with you?” Kara asks with a sharp edge to her voice.

“It has its place. But...”

“Then let go every now and then, Tony. You’ll appreciate the moments more when they happen without consciously planning them. Not everything has to be micro-managed. Especially not sex!” She grabs his cock in her palm and rapidly begins to jerk him off, her hand a blur in his lap. “Let me have my fun and believe me, you’ll have a good time, too!”

His rock hard cock thickens even more as she works her magic on him, fluttering her hand over and around the head of his cock, then back to the rigid shaft, then down to the base of his cock with her fingertips feathering the hair on his balls as she bends back down and sucks on the full length of him, taking him deep into her mouth into the very opening of her throat. The compression of her warm mouth surrounding his cock while her fingers caress his sack make Tony dizzy with pleasure.

Supergirl then begins to bob her head up and down in Tony’s lap, sucking him off with a vengeance of pure sexual domination that the young don is incapable of resisting.

“...whruulghk...whruulghk...whruulghk...whruulghk...whruulghk...whruulghk...”

Tony’s head flops backward onto the couch unable to concentrate as Supergirl takes complete control of his libido.

“Oohhhhhhh...yessss.....god....you’re great...!”

“...whruulghk...whruulghk...whruulghk...”

“..dun’t stop...”

But she does. Completely. She pulls away from him and his head slowly comes up off the cushion and he looks at her with befuddled concern.

“Whudd...i...do...now?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just moving on to phase two.”

“..s’okay for you to plan though...huh?”

“Absolutely!” The blonde beauty stands up, unties her robe and quickly shirks it off into a pile on the carpet. She then pulls down her panties until they fall in a puddle of blue satin at her ankles which she quickly kicks away. Wearing only her bra, Kara puts her arms on either side of Tony’s head, she grips the couch behind him and leans her body forward until her damp pussy rests directly against Tony’s waving prick. She lowers herself down until her pussy presses his cock against his stomach and her tits compress tightly against his chest. Her face is two inches away from his. Slowly her pelvis begins to rock up and down against Tony’s penis, her breasts against his chest. Her tongue flicks out and licks his full lips and both of Tony’s hands grab the young blonde teen’s rear end and squeeze hard as the couple entwine tongues and delight in the warm friction of their bodies.

After half a minute of carnal delight, Supergirl pulls away from Tony’s mouth, while keeping her body pressed against his.

“I’m wrinkling your suit,” she teases.

“I’ll buy another. I’ll buy 30. I don’t give a fuck!”

“Let me try another, less subtle approach. Take off the fucking suit, Tony. I want to feel your skin against mine!” She backs up and straightens up as Tony hurriedly shucks off his dress shirt and pulls off his suit pants until he’s only wearing his silk boxers, his penis sticking out of the fly like a curved flagpole.

“Keep the boxers on. I like the feel of the silk against my inner thighs,” Supergirl smiles.

Getting back into the same position, the famous Maid of Steel once more begins rocking her pelvis against Tony’s cock, her labia wrapped around the shaft, gently slickening him up with her excited pussy. Tony’s right hand is between their bodies caressing Kara’s breasts with slow figure eights across both tits. His left hand is around her right buttock, squeezing it and pressing her body closer to his so her pussy envelopes his prick even more.

“I want in,” Tony whispers.

“Of course you do.” But Supergirl pulls away slightly and then begins to rapidly rub only her pussy against Tony’s cock without contact from her anywhere else on his body, teasing him mercilessly.

“Uhhhnn....uhhnn...uuhhhh...” she moans with delight at the contact of his hard rod sliding within her quivering lower lips. The sensation of his warmth against her hot snatch. Savoring the heat of the moment and the longing of it all.

“God, you bitch, put me inside you,” Tony snarls in passion.

“Never!” She squeals happily, continuing her rapid, slippery motions until Tony is almost grinding his teeth in frustration.


“No, now, Kara!” His hands are fumbling mindlessly, ineptly at the hooks in the back of her bra strap. The finesse of the skill required is beyond him right now, even with all his years of springing pairs of tits free from bondage. He is that distracted by Supergirl’s relentless humping of his hard tool.

Grabbing Tony’s head, Kara plants a passionate tongue-twisting soul kiss on the young Italian mobster even as she continues to stroke his cock with her juicy pussy. She is delighted with the feeling of toying with Tony even as she enjoys the feel of his tool sliding up and down against her nether lips. But now even she is eager to have Tony’s long, hard cock deep inside her. I guess I should finally give the poor guy a break!

Just then, Tony finally succeeds with the clasp on Supergirl’s bra, getting the hooks undone. The bra snaps open, the shoulder straps fall forward over Kara’s shoulders and slide down her arms. Her exposed breasts hang over Tony’s face and he lurches upward and grabs one of her nipples in his mouth and sucks mercilessly on the fleshy pink button, then nipping severely before going back to sucking it with powerful draws.

“AYIEEE” Supergirl shrieks out in a yelp of pleasure at this assault on her breasts. Taking advantage of her distraction, the six-foot Italian don reaches his hands around her waist even as he rapidly rises up out of the depths of the cushy leather sofa. The blonde champion is shocked to be tossed in the air, spun around so that she’s facing away from Tony and then driven face first into the plush seat cushions of the deep brown leather sofa.

“....hey.....” Muffled from the depths of the couch, the Maid of Steel can barely be heard. Tony straight-arms her with a hand in the middle of her back even as he pulls her right thigh sideways and centers his prick at the opening of her vagina. He thrusts forward with his pelvis, impaling himself into the surprised and out-leveraged blonde superhero.

“OOONNNFFFF!” A loud grunt from the defenseless teen is muffled by the cushions. There’s a jerking thump as Tony’s penis drives the length of Supergirl’s vagina coming to a stop with his glans brushing up against her cervix.

“Whuuuhhhhh!” A softer muffled grunt with the hint of pleasure wafts out of the couch.

Tony begins humping away at the wriggling naked girl beneath him, pushing and pulling his cock to the depths of her cavity in a ferocious sexual frenzy. Supergirl’s hands sprawl out and grab the back of the couch and the short leg underneath and tightly grip them as her body is jolted again and again by the impassioned young don. Kara feels the rock hard muscle fill her vaginal cavity again and again. In and out, In and out. The friction along the length of her vagina obliterates all her thoughts as only the momentous pillaging of her sex fills her existence.

Behind Tony, Kara’s legs squirm and twist in an eye-opening display of both fear and pleasure. Her toes are curled under and her ankles bang against the couch arm as she gets lightheaded with the ecstasy she’s experiencing. She’s coming close to the level of oxygen starvation even as her pleasure center floods with light and joy. The very lack of air is stimulating her excitement as well.

Finally Tony moves his hand from the middle of Supergirl’s back to her head and pulls her up by her hair. The Maid of Steel’s eyes have rolled up under her lids even as her slackened mouth forms a broken smile of pure delight.

“Eeeeeeehhzz……ohhhh…..ahhhhhh….”

Tony continues to fuck away at his comely blonde prize. His pleasure is building close to its peak as well. The blonde champion had teased him to a level of sexual passion he’d rarely achieved before. This lack of control is a revelation that fills him with wonder even as his cock plays the part of a search and destroy drone in the depths of Supergirl’s silken treasure.

“…Rao….i….i’m…sorry….sorry….Tony…” she pleads, delirious with joy as she feels him pull her thigh open wider and drive even deeper into her.

“No you’re not,” he rasps out noisily. “…and neither am I!” His pumping continues yet.

“Unnhh…unnhh… unnhh… unnhh… unnhh… unnhh…” His every grunt is a thrust. Every thrust is a step on the ladder to ecstasy. For them both.

“YEAAHH….OHHHHH….RAAOOOO….” Kara shouts with complete abandon. She is mere seconds away from complete white oblivion. She only feels the thrusts and the heat of her loins and the stiffness of this man centered deep within her. Her head drops to the cushion, her eyes go blind with the fever of love and her ass trembles and shakes as she peaks in the pure white collision of galaxies.

“AAAIIIEEEEYYYAHHHHH!!!!” Supergirl screams in complete pleasure as she cums violently under Tony’s relentless driving penis. Her snatch spasms around Tony in uncontrolled pleasure and this sets him off at last. All his emotional protection is shattered and he cums with a loud, steady moan.

“GUUUUNHHHHH!” Tony shoots hard, thick jets of his milky essence deep into the quivering blonde beneath him. This interaction immediately sets off Supergirl into another mind-blowing orgasm that has her gripping the cushion into a thin layer of leather and foam rubber that belies the effect of the glowing green collar around her neck. One would think she had her powers back with how thin the couch has been compressed in her grip.

“OHHHHH!” Her eyes flutter and her irises bounce like pale ice cubes off a floor as the wave of her sustained pleasure sweeps over her body. “….OOHHHH….dear…raooo….”

The blonde champion is weeping with delight. She’s hit a peak here that she’s never felt before. Tears are rolling down her cheeks and even Tony is laughing uncontrollably in the aftermath of his own orgasm. His peak was a new high for him as well.

It takes a full five minutes before either can speak. Tony’s body covers Supergirl’s own as they pant and breathe with harsh drawing breaths coupled together amongst the cushions.

“…that…was…amazing….” Kara says.

“Truly!” Tony agrees. “I never….” he begins and stops, numb within the aftermath.

“Me neither,” Kara replies.

Twenty minutes later, Supergirl is up and dressed back in her minimal outfit of bra, panties and robe. She is sitting at the kitchen table drawing on her blue glass crack pipe and enjoying a completely different kind of high. Tony is heading into the elevator, redressed and looking very pleased with himself. He has his new enforcer.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Loss In The Family
Part 54-A




In the darkness of the living room, immersed in the depths of the long leather sofa, Diana Prince sits with her legs crossed beneath her. She is wearing a thick pink terry cloth robe that gaps slightly to reveal a pale green silk teddy underneath. The black-haired Amazon enfolds herself in her arms, rocking methodically back and forth, staring into the middle distance and trying to ignore the gnawing pains of withdrawal that grip her stomach and twist a frown from her beautiful face.

“...uuuhhhh....” She moans softly and tries to think of Themyscira and the paradise she has lost. But strong, growling stomach cramps thin her reverie of her home island to pale insignificance. She is long overdue for her relieving dose of heroin and hates herself for the need. She despises the craving even as she listens intently for the sound of the elevator and the arrival of Sergei with her shot. Her jailor is her savior. How fucked up is that?

After a long, distressing two minutes of rocking and groaning, Diana finally hears the high whine of the elevator motor whistling through the suite as the cab comes to a stop at the penthouse and the doors draw open. From the dark interior of the elevator, a brown booted foot strides forward first. The tall blonde Russian mobster walks out, casually turning his head in both directions, taken aback by the unexpected darkness. His sharp eyes pick out a familiar shape on the couch.

“Well, princess, how are you feeling this evening?”

“You know how,” Diana replies sullenly.

“Not really. I try to stay away from recreational drugs as strong as heroin. You should also, you know. They’re really not healthy for you in the long run.” She can see his white teeth thanks to the small light over the kitchen sink. He was enjoying her distress. Big surprise.

“I guess my willpower isn’t as strong as yours,” she says, playing the game so he will give her the heroin without delay.

“Tell me something I am not already knowing,” he counters. “Are you ready to learn how to shoot up now?”

“Yes,” Diana replies without irony.

“Excellent. Where is my pretty blonde davooshka?”

“Sleeping in the bedroom. Apparently she and Tony had quite a strenuous session together.”

“Yes, the girl spreads her legs quite willingly now for all who ask. This, of course, is only right.”

“Whatever you say, Sergei. Where do you want to do this?”

“The couch here is fine. I have a second kit on me so I don’t have to use the one in the night table beside your bed.”

Diana actually tilts her head sideways when he says this, like a quizzical puppy. She didn’t have to wait for him and go through all the harsh withdrawal symptoms after all! She could have shot up at any time from the kit by her bed.

“Forgot about your kit, didn’t you, Diana?”

“Yes,” she murmurs with a frown of shame. She is losing her fighting edge. Simple things are getting past her. The heroin is dissipating her abilities, her warrior skills. And there is nothing she can do about it. She sighs heavily as Sergei sits beside her and pats her thigh.

“There, there, princess. It’s alright. We all realize you’re not half the heroine you used to be. And we are okay with that. More than okay. We expected it all along. If it makes you to feel any better, it took slightly longer than we thought it would. So you shouldn’t feel bad that you are a strung out heroine junkie who will fuck for money at our command. You fought us as best you could. We were just too smart and resourceful for you. You were outmatched because you are a woman. There’s no shame in succumbing simply because you are the inferior sex. Now give me a kiss and then you’ll learn how to inject yourself.”

Reluctantly, Diana leans forward to kiss Sergei’s cheek as commanded but he turns his face at the last moment and their lips meet, pressed against each others in a sudden soft joining. Her eyes go wide in surprise even as Sergei’s hand curls behind her neck to hold her head in place. His warm tongue tries to push past her lips but she resists. Sergei’s other hand drops between Diana’s crossed legs and firmly squeezes her crotch. This opens her mouth in shock and his tongue invades her mouth, entwining around her own tongue while his palm caresses her pussy.

Resigned to his advances, a demoralized and beaten Wonder Woman allows Sergei his groping pleasures and his sloppy kiss for several humiliating moments before he breaks away and settles back on the couch with a broad smile.

“Excellent, Wonder Woman. You know your place. Now let us get to your lesson.”

Fifteen minutes later, the Amazon warrior has been adequately trained how to inject herself with heroin. The startling sight of her clenching the rubber hose tightly in her teeth as she pushed the plunger on the syringe she’d stuck into her vein was clearly caught on camera. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in her famous costume but there surely would be other times when she would be. And that would be a highlight on more than one DVD, Sergei knew. It would be a classic that they might even release to the media to help crush the famous heroine’s reputation to dust, among other indignities.

Sitting with her head back against the sofa cushion, her eyes drifting in small circles as the Istanbul Express carries her mind away to a lost, far horizon, Wonder Woman drools down the side of her mouth onto the shoulder of her pink robe.

Sergei slowly stands up and looks down at the stupefied heroine and smiles. She was no trouble now. Probably wouldn’t be from now on. Quietly, the Russian mobster quickly moves to the bedroom door. He enters the bedroom and sees Supergirl fast asleep in the bed, sleeping on her stomach and clutching the pillow tightly as she softly purrs a lady-like snore.

“...t..tony...” The dreaming blonde heroine mumbles, her thoughts of sexual satisfaction filling her head with simple joy. Sergei reaches into the night table and takes out the leather heroin kit there, then withdraws quietly from the bedroom.


Sergei didn’t want Wonder Woman having access to drugs without his control. He figured she would have forgetten about the kit and he wasn’t surprised that she had. She was losing it. Big time!

He walks past the nodding Wonder Woman with a smile as he heads for the elevator. Tony would be very pleased with the progress he had made today with the beaten Amazon: very pleased indeed.


* * *


The room is pitch black but pleasantly warm. The only sound is that of a very small but powerful motor. He has to get up shortly and go on patrol. It was only right, after all. But then Lois reaches over to him and her hand finds his penis. She slowly and gently begins to stroke him and Clark smiles. Lois certainly enjoyed her sex.

Her strokes become faster and harder; quite aggressive actually for Lois. Clark moves to take her hand away. His patrol was more important than Lois’ steady need for his 13-inch member, after all. But to his surprise, he can’t move his arms. They are immobilized somehow and this makes Clark frown with worry. Since when did Lois pursue bondage fantasies? And when did her hand strength get so powerful? Usually her hand or arm tired pretty quickly and then she moved on to using her mouth. She was very, very good with her mouth.

Clark’s breathing rapidly increases as the strokes begin to excite him intensely. His heart is beating like a drum solo in a heavy metal song.

“Ohhhh....Lois. Ughnnnnn...sl..sl...slowww downnn....suh....stoppp....”

If anything, the pace of the jerking hand increases and then another hand cups his balls and begins to tickle the small hairs there, fondling him slowly as the skin on his penis is rubbed up and down at a hellish pace.

“...wait...dohhhn’t...too...too...much....too....fast....”

Clark’s head is swimming with pleasure now and he is pretty sure he won’t be able to hold back unless everything comes to a screeching halt immediately.

Lois slows her strokes but only by half, still keeping his rod throbbing with a skill that goes far beyond all Clark’s experience with her. The slower strokes may just be enough for Clark to push his excitement back to more manageable levels. He tries to concentrate on an image of Braniac blasting him with a kryptonite pulse gun and that helps him a bit more to slow his heart beat.

But then Lois’ mouth encompasses the head of Clark’s penis, sucking on it with hard firm draws of her cheeks and the Man of Steel is thrown back in the deep end of the pleasure pool.

“GGUUHNNNNN!!!” He groans loudly, helplessly as the handwork and the mouth-work quickly bring him back near his peak of tolerance. “LOIS....WHYYYY?”

He is very close now. And he thinks to himself. Why shouldn’t I let go? If Lois is so hell-fire determined to bring me to climax, why should I resist? Certainly I can start my patrol ten minutes later than usual. I deserve a little pleasure, after all, with all my....

Blinding spotlights suddenly snap on and illuminate Clark’s world with crossing beams of white. He winces at the sudden arc light brightness and looks down to see a very attractive brunette in a sparkling blue tube top and black leather hot pants who is definitely not Lois sucking on his dick. She has his costume briefs pulled down to mid thigh. Her brown eyes look up at him with gleeful satisfaction before she bows her head and begins sucking even harder on his cock than before.

“‘Why,’ you ask, Superman?” The voice of Lex Luthor behind the arc lights is filled with smarmy glee. “Well, first off, as you can tell, that’s not Lois Lane sucking on your joint. I doubt Lois has the skills of young Roxie there who is famous among those in the know for her skills at oral sex.”

Roxie’s mouth works on the glans of the shackled Superman with a professional obsession. Her tongue flutters and strokes, lathers and nibbles, sucks and blows in a steady barrage of sensation that causes Superman’s eyes to roll up into his head. He can’t fight this feeling anymore. The whore was far too good and he was much too weak to resist. He was in his usual slime tub but it had been drained fairly recently so that now he was lying on the warmed steel bottom, still far too weak from the long-term effects of the kryptonite immersion.

His arms are chained over his head to bolts in the nearby wall and his legs to bolts outside the tub. Roxie continues to stroke, cup, and suck away with absolutely zealous concentration.

“Besides, Superman, I need your sperm for a long list of experiments. So do be a stand up guy and cum in Roxie’s mouth now, if you please.”

Roxie’s hands are a blur of irresistible motion that is driving the bound and helpless hero to stratospheric heights of pleasure. She is patiently feathering her fingers up and down the full length of his rock hard cock with flying angelic hands that are doing the devil’s work.

“Guuhhhhh!” Superman groans deeply as his penis is massaged and stroked and firmly pulsed in palms suddenly slick with some kind of velvety gel. The whore would just not let up. She knew exactly what to do to give him maximum pleasure and precisely when to do it. The mighty Man of Steel felt as dumb and helpless as a naive college kid in his first whorehouse.

“...ohhhhhhhh....” His thighs are trembling against the overwhelming need to release. He bites his lower lip hard to prevent himself from the pleasure circling within his brain. It helps a bit.

And then her soft, plump lips clamp down once more and she sucks him off like a vacuum hose tight around his cock. He feels his prick contracted deeply in her throat and that is all he is conscious of, overwhelmed with total pleasure of her unrelenting attentions. Her fingers play at the point where his balls touch his inner thigh, stroking him rapidly there to force his concentration to focus on all the pleasure his penis is feeling. Between the stroking, the sucking and the fingering hands tickling his balls, Superman is completely overwhelmed by the sensations. His nuts contract in spasm, beyond all his control. His brain fills with blind joy and he grunts loudly in orgasmic delight.

“HHUHNNNN!” His hips buck spastically as a thick stream of semen jets out of his dick and down into the whore’s throat. She takes the first spurt easily, swallowing it immediately even as her head backs up off his penis. The second spurt fills her mouth, expanding it outward with a chipmunk quality that is exactly what’s needed to save a large portion of his ejaculate. She takes her mouth off of Superman’s dick and stretches her neck over a small glass bowl. Opening her mouth she lets a large measure of white cum drain out into the bowl. Her fist, in the meantime, has clamped hard over the end of Clark’s prick, painfully shutting off some of the flow of his remaining cum. A large bead of it oozes out over between her knuckles which she wipes against the edge of the bowl to capture more of his essence. Then, with her mouth empty, Roxie leans over and puts it back over the end of Superman’s penis and strokes him very gently and slowly as she slithers her tongue back and forth over the underside of his glans, his most sensitive spot. This causes the long hard member to jerk and shoot a final spurt of semen into the whore’s mouth. Though closed to keep in the valued cum, Roxie smiles broadly, carefully keeping her lips tightly shut. It had been an easy victory against the helplessly chained superhero; much easier than she had expected.

Roxie bends over and lets the final thick glob of semen drool out of her mouth into the bowl. Her job is done here. She brusquely pulls up Superman’s briefs and lets them snap back into place. His prick is obviously still engorged within the tight costume but you can see it shrinking quickly now. A small damp drop of lost spunk stains the briefs even as Superman moans in dumbstruck pleasure, limply helpless at the bottom of the tub.

“Thank you, Roxie. Fantastic job. Your diamonds are in a small cloth bag on the table near the exit station. I’ll call you if I need you again for the big fella.”

“My pleasure, Lex,” murmurs the low-voiced brunette. Her ass wiggles and bobs as she takes her leave. But Superman is too drained to see or care.

“I guess I could have used my little erotic pleasure disc on you and suction tube to catch your jism, Superman, but then what fun would that have been? Besides, I can use the video for blackmail in the future if it’s necessary. Say, you okay over there, sport?”

A blasted and bleary Man of Steel can do little more than moan after the session he’s just undergone.

Lex looks at his captive and just smiles as he presses the remote to refill the tub with glowing green slime.

“Ah, work, work, work,” Lex sighs as he walks over to retrieve the bowl of Superman’s strongly-scented spunk. “A genius’ day is never done!”


* * *


Late the following morning, Wonder Woman sits in the back seat of a limousine dressed in her full costume complete with her tiara and shiny red boots with their white vertical stripe running from toe to calf. The golden power belt and shining lasso are fakes, of course, but the casual observer wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Sergei sits beside her, his palm stroking up and down her smooth thigh as he talks. She is his possession and he wants her to know it in her bones. She does not flinch or show anger or shame or any other outward emotion. She has geared her mind to accept whatever Sergei did in order not to incur his horrible wrath. She had enough of that to last her a lifetime.

She has finally healed, her injuries having melted away when her power belt was surreptitiously strapped on while she was blitzed out on a second dose of Istanbul Express. Sergei had supervised her second attempt at shooting up in the middle of the night. Her technique was still awkward but not dangerous. And the behavior pattern was being ingrained slowly and surely within Wonder Woman’s psyche. Another line of her opposition had been successfully crossed and the pathetic sow didn’t even seem to care about it anymore. ‘Resistance is futile’ is how the phrase went.

“These gentlemen have paid a handsome price to have their time with you, Wonder Woman,” Sergei advises her sternly. “You will be showing them a good time. You will do whatever they ask you to do without hesitation. I will be there to ensure your compliance. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sergei. Will I get my fix soon after they are done? It’s been over six hours.”

“If you please them, I will let you shoot up immediately afterward. I have your kit with me.”

“Can I have a little taste now. Beforehand?” The whining tone in Diana’s voice pleases Sergei to no end but he keeps a severe expression in place.

“Certainly not, whore. It is presumptuous for you to ask. Some junkies with little money have to wait ten or twelve hours between hits, stealing what they can to afford their precious drugs. You should be thankful if you even get any before tonight with that attitude.”

“Oh, please, Sergei. I am sorry. I will do what they ask. I’ll be good. Don’t hold back my fix!”

“It all depends on you, Wonder Woman. Now lean over, I have to blindfold you.”

“But why?”

“Because it pleases me and that is all you need to know. When we arrive where we are going, I will take it off you. Not before. Do you understand me, bitch?”

“Yes, Sergei. Absolutely.” Diana bends her head forward and Sergei presses the velcro strip of the thick black double eye patches against the cottony strip at the back of Wonder Woman’s head, tightly securing the blindfold in place. Diana is immersed in total blackness and her ears pick out the faint sound of traffic through the thick armored windows of the limo.

“Don’t worry, Wonder Woman. It won’t be too long. I will be holding your hand to guide you to where we are going. It should only take about 15 minutes or so.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Sergei. That is kind of you.”

“When you behave as we instruct, I am no one to fear, my dear.”

“Yes, Sergei.” Diana nods, her eyes covered, her heart beating slightly faster with anxiety.

Two minutes later the famous Wonder Woman, immersed in a world of darkness at the height of a sunny noon day in New York, holds her hand out and Sergei helps her step out of the limousine. It had been pulled far into a blind alley so no one even sees the famous costume or the awkward shuffle of the blindfolded Amazonian warrior as she is hustled through a steel doorway and down a long, cool hallway.

Diana hears the sound of the limo’s engine and the high whine as it rapidly backs up the alley and out into traffic. And then all she can hear is the sound of her hard heels on the cement floor as she is led by the hand into a day of horror that she will never forget.

As promised, the walk takes a little over ten minutes from the time they leave the alley. There are countless twists and turns. There’s the hesitant climbing up and down short echoing stairwells with the nervous fear of missing a step and falling helplessly into a bone-breaking heap. Then there’s the waiting at numerous squeaking doors that must be keyed open. All in all, the seemingly endless walk in pitch blackness with only Sergei’s clammy hand to guide her fills Wonder Woman with enough anxiety and adrenaline to forestall any symptoms of her addiction.

When they come to yet another door, there’s no rattle of keys this time in Sergei’s pocket. Instead, the tall Russian gives a double knock, a single knock and then a triple knock. Diana feels the rush of air as the door is forcefully yanked open and she is pulled so roughly into the room by a powerful hand on her forearm. The action is so sudden and unexpected that the blindfolded heroine stumbles against the man. He is forced to steady her by yanking her up by the back of her bustier before she falls to the floor. And before she can react to that, Wonder Woman is shoved backward until the back of her knees hit the seat of a chair and she falls onto with a thud.

“Uugh,” she grunts, gripping the seat of the wooden chair to steady herself.

“What took you so long?” The gruff voice of the powerful man who pulled her into the room speaks over her head.

“Can you not see that the woman is blindfolded? You try walking in the dark from where we started and see how long it takes you. We are here now. That’s all you should care about. Have you got the money?”

“How do we know this is the real Wonder Woman?”

“I will take the blindfold off and leave, but not before I give her permission to beat the crap out of all of you,” Sergei growls from behind Diana’s head. “Then you will see how real she is!”

All of you? Diana feels a new grip of fear tighten her stomach muscles into knots. How many men are here in this room?

“Okay, fine. I have seen her pictures in my training courses in Afghanistan. It certainly looks like her. Certainly she has the breasts of Wonder Woman. I look forward to defiling them. Here is your money.”

The sound of paper being thumbed over her head fills Wonder Woman with a shame she thought she had gotten past. Her time was being bought like a cheap commodity. And what she would be required to do in that time would be completely degrading, she knew that for certain. As the thumbing of paper continues, Diana amends her thoughts somewhat. She wasn’t a cheap commodity, it seemed. But that was very little consolation for what she knew laid before her.

“Fine. I will take the blindfold off now,” Sergei says, folding the wad of cash and sticking it in his pants pocket. “You have her services for 90 minutes. Do with her what you will. But no permanent scars as we discussed. Clear?”

“Yes.”

“And I will remain to ensure her compliance,” Sergei adds. “Also as discussed.”

“The whore will comply with what we ask?”

“Anything. That’s why I am staying. I will ensure she does. Isn’t that right, Wonder Woman?”

“...ulp...yes...sergei...” Diana’s voice squeaks softly with nervous tension. There is no denying the menace in Sergei’s voice.

She then feels hands behind her head pulling apart the velcro straps and her eyes squint against the light that assaults her pupils after a quarter hour of total darkness. All Diana can see for the moment is a tall man in a brown ankle-length tunic standing before her. He does not move but merely looks down at her. Slowly, Diana’s eyes adjust to the six glaring bulbs dangling from power cords overhead. It was a crude room where hard things would happen, she realizes.

Looking past the tall leader standing before her, she spots a contingent of similarly dressed men against the wall behind the leader. Two tunics are faded blue, one green, another brown like the leader’s. The final one, worn by the fattest man in the room by far is a bleached out yellow. All the garments are dirty with dark stains spotted across the chest area of the cheap fabric. Like the men had eaten many meals without concern of dropping food on themselves. If they cared to look in the long mirror on the side wall, they would be ashamed of their slothfulness and filth. If they cared, which she guessed they would not.

The five men stand there in a line with arms crossed, a mean hunger filling their eyes. Some lick their thick lips. Others shift from foot to foot, anxious for things to begin.

From behind her, Sergei takes Diana by the ear and snarls, “Stand up, Wonder Whore,” pulling her up with harsh tug.

“Ahhh,” she yelps as she quickly rises. Sergei lets go of her ear, then loudly drags the wooden chair over to the wall behind her and sits down on it backwards, crossing his arms over the back of the chair and smiling at her. He then looks beyond her to the leader standing in front of the half-turned Amazon beauty.

“It’s your money and your time,” Sergei drawls, “but I would be starting the fun if I were you. But that’s just me.”

“Of course,” nods the leader who suddenly reaches out and grabs a fistful of Diana’s black hair and forces her to turn and face him. She is inches away from his hawk-like nose. “My name is Amad.” Pointing behind him without looking, he says, “That is Mohammed, Ishmael, Harga, Bensir and Sufa. We are terrorists from Saudi Arabia and you will be pleasuring all six of us today.”

“...of....course...” Diana murmurs, her blue eyes glancing up at the dark brown pupils filled with lust gazing coldly at her. She then casts her eyes down to the floor, unable to restrain the gulp of anxiety in her throat.

“As the very symbol of American imperialism and the guiding spirit of pointless feminism, you will start by getting down on your knees woman and prostrating yourself before us.”

“...yessir...” Diana answers and lowers herself down until she is kneeling before Amad.

“Bow low, Wonder Woman and stretch your arms out to touch my shoes with your fingertips.”

Diana does this, bowing in humble supplication to the man before her. She has hardened her heart to avoid thinking about any of the symbolic humiliation she will be subjected to. To her, for now, this is nothing more than a simple yoga pose. Her fingers graze against the tips of Amad’s old brown loafers before she feels him pull his foot back. Wonder Woman keeps her head down, trying to will time itself to speed up. If things went well, ninety minutes of this submissive bullshit wouldn’t be too hard to handle.

Unseen, Amad lifts the toe of his shoe and moves it forward half a foot then slowly steps down with his weight on Diana’s left hand.

“Aaaaghhhh!” She cries out as his foot presses her knuckles painfully to the hard speckled brown linoleum floor. She tries to pull her hand away but her position offers no leverage against his considerable weight. Tears spring to her eyes as she feels her hand flare with fiery pain. “Pleeeaaassseeee stopppp,” she whimpers.

“Who is your master, Wonder Woman?”

“You are! You are, Amad!” The grimacing heroine yells out.

“Wrong! Filthy slut!” Amad grinds his foot against her hand, drawing a scream from the prostrated beauty. “All men are your masters. Women are nothing but cattle in the world of men. To be used and abused as we wish. Is this not the way it should be?”

“Yes. It is the way it should be,” weeps Diana. And the foot is lifted. She pulls her hand back and tucks it under her armpit to provide heat and protection to the throbbing appendage. The famous heroine has no idea that sophisticated pinhole cameras in the far upper corners of the room have captured her humiliation for posterity, and will do so for as long as she is in this room.

“Good. Now use your good hand, silly female, and reach up under my tunic and fondle my penis, as your lowly station demands.”


To be continued....
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Loss In The Family
Part 54-B



Wonder Woman looks up into the severe face of the expectant man, sees there should be no delay in her compliance there and immediately struggles to her knees with her one good hand. She then lifts the hem up, looks up under the tunic and sees a baggy pair of white briefs above her head. Raising her arm high, she finds the lump in the briefs by feel and begins to gently squeeze and fondle the limp muscle there. In just a moment, she feels the lump thicken and extend into a hard rod.

“You have soft hands, whore. You were obviously meant for such work.”

Diana says nothing but continues to stare at the floor as she fondles the warm staff through the cotton fabric.

And then Amad’s hand comes down and grabs her hair, forcing her face upward with a sudden, harsh twist. The other hand comes down in a low arc and knocks Diana’s face sideways with a sharp, stinging slap that rattles her bright blue pupils.

“When a man compliments you, woman, you should say ‘Thank you, master!’”

“...thank you, master,” Diana says softly.

“You’re very welcome, whore. Now put you hand in my underpants and continue to stroke me, Wonder Woman. You are pleasing me greatly.”

“Thank you, sire.” She looks up to see Amad smiling down at her as she reaches her hand through the loose, sagging leg band and begins to slowly jerk off the grinning terrorist. If she took her time she might get away with just giving hand jobs for all these ragged Saudi thugs.

“Faster, whore,” Amad demands. The five others against the wall nod happily. They wanted their turns.

So much for Plan A. Diana picks up the pace, hoping to bring off the tall terrorist and move on to the next man.

“Good. Now stop and put your face under my tunic, pull down the waistband of my briefs and suck on my dick, woman!”

Taking her wounded hand out from her armpit, Wonder Woman gingerly lifts up the hem of the robe and maneuvers herself underneath, then rises up on her knees and grasps the waistband of Amad’s sagging, stained underwear and pulls it down to reveal his large, hard mocha-colored un-circumcised penis. The smell of his unwashed groin, contained by the robe close around her head almost makes the Amazon heroine gag with disgust. She sways for a moment on her knees before reluctantly taking his prick in her fist, pulling back the fleshy sheath there and slowly putting her mouth around the large head of Amad’s cock.

The taste of him is just as putrid as his smell and Wonder Woman can barely breathe as she sucks on the large stiff member before her. She bobs her head three times, taking him in deeper into her mouth and trying to keep her disgust in check. On the fourth head bob, she feels her head being held from outside the thin robe. Firm hands grab her hair through the flimsy material and keep her pinned in place as she hears Amad blurt out, “I’ll take it from here, whore. I know what I want from you.”

With that, Amad’s hips begin thrusting back and forth, jamming his cock deep into Wonder Woman’s unprepared throat. Again and again, the offensive rod jerks in and out of the heavily gagging Amazon’s mouth.


“...ghlkk...hhuulgkk...ghlkk..hhuulgkk...ghlkk...hhuulgkk....” The subservient heroine opens her mouth as wide as she possibly can in order to take in air as the shaft thrusts repeatedly into her yawning orifice. But the tip of Amad’s cock brushes against the back of her throat over and over, making Diana dizzy from the overpowering scent, the lack of air and her woeful inability to handle this horrendous perversion called face-fucking.

“AAWWGKKK! HAAULLGGKKK! WRAAGKKKK!” Dazed and helpless, the limp heroine dangles beneath Amad’s robe, held up by the roots of her hair as her hands flail weakly at his ankles while she desperately tries to breathe between thrusts of the hard, hot muscle.

And then suddenly it’s over. The hands release her head and she slides down the hairy legs of the phony terrorist and lies gasping for air at his feet. She chokes out a thick gob of cloudy pre-cum and wheezes desperately, filling her mighty lungs with all the air she can take in. Amad squats down, takes a firm hold on Wonder Woman’s shoulder and flips her over on her back where she lies inert, feeble, barely able to gather her senses together.

“Pull down your top and open your knees, superhero!. I am going to sample your treasures.” Amad hikes up his tunic, pulls his underpants down to mid-thigh and positions him before the sprawled, wheezing Amazon beauty

Wonder Woman weakly complies, folding down the fabric eagle and releasing her ample breast to the open air. She then spread her legs apart for the terrorist’s waving prick aimed at the crotch of her famous starred costume briefs.

Despite her weakened, breathless condition, Diana looks at Amad with obvious hostility which he can’t help but notice. He edges forward and reaches out to touch Diana’s exposed breast. She cringes as the hand smooths over her warm flesh and the protruding nipple made firm by the cold room. Amad looks deeply into the blazing blue eyes of his angry victim and smiles. Then he twists hard on the nipple with his thumb and forefinger, drawing a yelp from the surprised heroine.

“I paid for a willing whore and that is what I expect. Is this not so, Sergei?”

“Absolutely, Amad. Diana, behave so I don’t have to discipline you.” The calmness in the voice is as terrifying as the threat. Filled with terror at Sergei’s possible retaliation, Diana forces herself to smile and lose the attitude. All of it. Instantly.

“Here. Let me pull my costume to the side so you can enter me as you wish, master.” Diana pulls the crotch aside without hesitation, exposing the pink lips of her pussy for Amad’s pleasure.

“That’s much better, Wonder Woman. You know, you don’t have to play coy with me. I know how much you want this. Maybe even more than I, right?”

“I...i...need you inside me, sire. It...it’s...my...my only....purpose,” the famous Champion of All Women stutters her reply loudly.”

“I thought as much,” Amad replies as he edges forward on his knees and reaches out to the supine Amazon before him. She scuttles forward quickly, takes his penis in hand and guides the hard muscular tool to the entry of her most treasured asset. He fondles her swelling breasts with obvious pleasure as Diana rubs the head of his cock up and down within the crease of her labia to stimulate herself. The fingers on her other hand caress her clitoris to get herself wet so the entry of this bastard’s prick won’t hurt too much.


Looking up at Amad with half-lidded eyes, moist lips and a dreamy expression of pleasure, Diana hopes the stinking thug misconstrues this face as the result of all the attention he is paying her breasts. He does, wrapping his hands over the front of Wonder Woman’s breasts and fondling them eagerly, dimpling the soft flesh with his fingertips. Between his clumsy efforts and her own finger work, Diana is moist enough for penetration without pain, so she quickly impales herself upon his tool, shifting forward suddenly then wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her ankles together at his lower back. At least she is doing this to herself rather than simply playing the helpless victim. It’s the only measure of control she can exert.

She clasps her palms around Amad’s neck, pulls their bodies closer together, puts her mouth over the thick lips of the man in her arms and slowly begins to fuck the stunned terrorist as she gives him a soul kiss he had only dreamed about before now. And every camera in the room has recorded the moment of complete sexual compliance in a permanent data stream that is sent off-site to a waiting server six blocks away.

Holding him in her tight, unrelenting embrace, Wonder Woman begins thrusting her hips back and forth in a steady rapid rhythm that pulls a groan from Amad.

“This is heaven, my friends,” he exults when Diana comes up for air after her long passionate kiss. “Fucking 21 virgins when you die a martyr is utter nonsense. This is where heaven begins. Right here in Wonder Woman’s pussy!”

“Shhhh,” Diana hushes him. “Don’t spoil the mood here, Amad.” She goes in for another kiss and his tongue eagerly entwines with hers even as she increases the pace of her thrusts. Back and forth, back and forth, Wonder Woman now holds her hands around Amad’s elbows and jerks her pelvis front and back, driving his penis in and out of her like a she’s working a rowing machine at top speed. If the others see this, she may just have to give them all the same treatment and be done with it. She doesn’t want to think about any kinky alternatives they might come up with instead.

Amad’s breathing has increased to a rapid shallow pant as Wonder Woman buries his cock within her again and again. His tool is rock hard, his eyes have lost all focus, and his hands now clutch her hair as she rocks his world with her powerful body.

“Uhhh.....ohhhhhh....” Amad moans with complete pleasure as he begins to lose control. He pulls back on Diana’s hair and this breaks her kiss off and pulls her head back til it faces the ceiling but she doesn’t not slow down her rocking rhythm one bit.

Amad is overwhelmed by it all, and lost in ecstacy, he grimaces with all his teeth showing as his chin comes forward to rest on her Diana right shoulder as he cums in a rush within her loins.

“OOOHHHHH. Gudddamm, that is sweeeeeettt!”

Diana rocks backward against the floor, pulling Amad down with her. His knees sprawl outside her thighs. The bottom of his tunic is pulled up to his chest. His naked butt waves high in the air. The five other men all look away in horror at this unpleasant sight of their boss at a most indecorous pose. He, of course, could care less, having just visited nirvana itself. His knees spread out, he settles against the prone Amazon beauty and his ass settles low to the floor even as his dick pulses with pleasure within the confines of Wonder Woman’s warm wetness.

“Who wants more of the same?” Diana asks this brightly, hoping to encourage raised hands like young school kids.

“I have somewhat different needs,” says one of the men wearing the blue tunic as he steps forward. “As do my brothers here. My name is Ishmael. I will be sodomizing you today. And this, in green here, is Harga. He will be taking you from the front at the same time. Bensir, in brown, would have you give him oral sex while we two penetrate you. This is how you will service us.”

Wonder Woman’s eyes widen and her face pales at the thought of this abusive arrangement. Even as she contemplates this abominable scene, Amad slowly rolls off her, pulling his shrinking dick out of her. A string of leftover cum clings from his leaking dick to her thigh for a moment before thinning out and breaking off. The thin strip of fabric snaps back in place covering Diana’s femininity but more of Amad’s milky seed drains out of her crotch through the gaps at her inner thighs. Wonder Woman looks down at the wet spot of cum on the stained lineoleum floor, at her stained shorts and at her most unheroic pose and hides all her frustration, despair and anguish with every ounce of willpower she has. She had fallen so low. So very low down that she couldn’t see where ‘up’ even existed.

While the tall, bleary but satisfied terrorist slowly stands up and wanders over to a door, presumably to a bathroom, Diana gathers her resolve as best she can. Amad opens the door and disappears inside, closing it tightly behind him.

“Uhhh. Okaaaayyy,” Wonder Woman answers Ishmael slowly. Obviously she must comply. Sergei is sitting directly behind her. Without even looking, she knows he is smiling his nastiest grin. This day would not end well. She knew this in her heart and was absolutely sick about it. But there was nothing she could do about it. Not a fucking thing.



* * *



Stevie is bopping down Gun Hill Road in the Bronx. He is very pleased by the security tapes he found of Sergei doing Wonder Woman on the loading dock. Even though the cameras were somewhat inferior and the scene was only caught by two different static cameras, he had been able to edit them into kind of cool film noir look. Making the most of such material really pleased him, appealed to his inner artist. Sure, he was making porn, but it was good porn! He was producing interesting stuff that showed off his skill with editing, sound and in a few cases, simple effect like wipes, dissolves and fade-outs. Even the public domain music he added brought a special sense of style to the DVDs. He felt he had a right to be proud.

However, in the midst of his editing session, when he was about to save some rough cuts, he discovered he’d run out of disks. Hence, the visit to the Staples supply store for a case of 100-count packages of the DVDs he needed.

He had just placed the heavy box on the rolling belt and was just pulling out his credit card at the cash register when he looked up to see two men in trench coats come around the customer service desk from the entrance side of the store. His face went pale and he turned and ran for the exit. But he just wasn’t fast enough. You can’t outrun bullets if you’re not a superhero. That’s a fact.

From under the trench coats came a small Uzi automatic and a 12-gauge shotgun. The cashier screamed and Stevie turned his face halfway to see how close his attackers were. Barely eight feet!

The Uzi sprayed his legs and Stevie sprawled forward against the glass of the exit door with a jarring thump that flung the automatic doors off their tracks. The young mobster slid down the glass, smearing the bottom half of the door with the blood that was spurting from his thighs and calves.

Stevie grimaced in pain as the hail of bullets in his leg burned like hot branding irons. It was just for a short time however. The man with the shotgun strode over to him, pointed the muzzle at Stevie’s back and blew his spine away. The man with the Uzi finished the job with three quick rounds to the back of Stevie’s head.

The mobster holding the shotgun shouted out to the horrified patrons crouching behind displays of Post-it Notes and calendars of adorable puppies, “Anybody asks, Don Tony Bonano has angered the families and this is how they respond.”

The two gunmen walked calmly out of the store and into a waiting sedan that screeched away into traffic.

At the exit, lying in a pool of blood that spread out around his limp form, Stefano’s art and happiness and life were now done forever.

Two hours later, when Tony heard the news and saw the blood-stained sidewalk and chalk outline as the reporter did her stand-up in front of the Staples store, the mob don broke down and cried like a baby for five minutes while Carmine drank scotch until he got very, very drunk.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

The Room of Shame
Part 55



Sergei speaks softly into his cell phone. He stands in the long hall just outside the room where Wonder Woman is undergoing her humiliating subjugation to a crew of phony Islamic terrorists. The fake terrorists, simply a gang of nasty Moslem thugs from New York’s borough of Queens, had been hired by his boss Tony Bonano a month ago to act in a video designed to throw off the police and the public from the notion that the mob was behind Wonder Woman’s capture. Now they were about to take their well-scripted act to a whole new level. They were mere minutes away from making a total mockery of Wonder Woman’s legendary halo of purity, dispelling the myth of her Amazonian strength and completely eliminating the notion of her indomitable spirit.

“Hello, Tony. Yeah, everything’s going great,” Sergei nods, pacing back and forth in front of the steel door to Wonder Woman’s soon-to-be-famous Room of Shame. “She already has fucked one of them royally. She pulled his cock so deep into her pussy, I thought his penis was going to come out her belly button. Everything has been recorded as we planned. Soon we are to be offering her performance to the public as discussed. I have to go back inside in just a moment. She and the guys are taking a water break. Her water bottle is, of course, treated with that special juice of yours to ensure she is confused and horny. She would, of course, do her work as she is commanded thanks to how greatly I have terrorized her, but, like we agreed, the juice will ramp up her performance and will ensure that her reputation is as publically soiled as a whore’s cum-crusted panties when the fleet comes to town.”

“Just make sure it all goes smoothly,” Tony replies, his voice tinny in the throwaway phone that Sergei will toss in a garbage can when the day is done. There will be no traces, no links back to Tony for the police to follow up. “The second team will be there in about an hour for the second act of our little play. Where’s Amad?”

“He left, satisfied with his pay. I will attend to him later. There will be no loose ends there. Hey, not to worry, Tony,” Sergei says with conviction. They had gone over everything a dozen times the night before with all the parties involved “Everyone knows their roles. Even Wonder Slut will willingly cooperate in her own heroic dismantling. But I have to go in now. Talk to you later.”


Sergei snaps the phone shut and gives the secret knock on the door to be let into the room. When Harga opens the heavy door, Sergei saunters casually by him and stands over Wonder Woman. The Amazon princess, once again neatly arranged within her famous costume after her earlier fucking of Amad had left her disheveled and sweaty, is sitting in the simple wooden chair, her head tipped back, chugging down the last of a plastic bottle of the tainted spring water with thirsty eagerness.

WHAAPPP!!

Sergei slaps the nearly empty water bottle out of Wonder Woman’s grip with a sudden, surprisingly vehement swing of his arm. It goes flying across the room and slaps against the far wall with a crackle of broken plastic. A small stream of water runs down the ugly beige wall. It seeps into a jagged area of chipped paint and then puddles up on the brown speckled linoleum tile.

“Rest break is over, Wonder Whore. Thank the nice Islamic terrorists for letting you refresh yourself while their time with you continues to run out on them.”

“What!” Ishmael growls, his forehead crinkling as he glares at Sergei. “I thought the clock on her had stopped while you left during her break.”

“Why would you think that, fool?”

“You said you had to leave. Make a phone call.”

“I did. So?” Sergei crosses his arms and stares calmly back at the tall Ishmael standing two feet away from him.

“We thought she would not obey with you out of the room. That being so, the clock should have stopped.”

“I told you she would do as you asked,” Sergei informs him with complete serenity. “ I was here to ensure compliance but it was your mistake to assume she would not comply if I left. You simply assumed, incorrectly, that she would not. Would you like me to leave again and test her? I would be happy to do this.” Sergei smiles broadly at the tall terrorist.

“No,” Ishmael snaps quickly, his anger turning his face ugly. “We have paid you dearly already and we are now wasting even more time.” He suddenly reaches out and grabs Wonder Woman’s hair by the roots and drags her off the chair in an awkward sprawl that lands the wincing heroine on her knees before the glowering Muslim. Sergei takes the chair and once more turns it around and sits on it with his arms crossed over the back of the chair, watching the proceedings with interest. The extended conversation was nothing more than a ruse to allow time for the drugged water to work its way into Wonder Woman’s system.

“Okay, bitch. Stay there on your knees for now, yes?”

“Yes,” Wonder Woman replies, shifting her legs slightly in place to get more comfortable. She settles her ass down on her calves and sways slightly in place, a bit unfocused already from the potent drugs.

Ishmael then strides across the room and all five men stand in a line facing the Champion of All Women who sits on her haunches swaying slightly. She felt a bit dizzy but the room was warm and she was perspiring a bit. That could be it.

Suddenly, all five men march forward and surround Wonder Woman on all sides in a circle.

“Before you will “enjoy” the four-way we have planned for you, Wonder Woman,” Ishmael states, “we think you should show your obedience. We have prepared a game in which you can demonstrate this for us.”

“I seek to please you, sir.” Diana chuckles suddenly and surprises herself at this. This was no game here but she felt giddy about the heightened sense of drama. Still she suppresses her giddiness with a clearing of her throat as if the sound had been something else. The men looked at each other with knowing looks but Diana had no idea why that would be.

“Obey well and you shall please us,” Ishmael replies. “Now when one of us speaks you must follow the command issued to the letter without delay. Understand?”

“Obey the command. Yeth, I get it,” Diana answers with a head nod then a shake then a second,. “Yes.”

“Excellent. Now as the game progresses, it speeds up. But don’t worry, it’s hard for anyone to lose this game, unless you completely disobey the commands. That won’t happen will it, Wonder Woman?”

“No, thir....sir,” the Amazon slurs.

“Good. Mohammed, why don’t you start us off.”

The shortest man in the room, Mohammed wears a blue robe with food stains thick all over the front of it. He looks down at Wonder Woman with a sneer.

“Wonder Woman, come towards me on all fours and lick my toes.”

Grimacing, the black-haired champion crawls the two feet to Mohammed and bows her head until she’s inches from his sandaled feet. Quickly but reluctantly she extends her tongue and licks the top of Mohammed’s wiggling toes. Sweaty and foul, the scent and grit nearly gags Wonder Woman as she bends before the terrorist and cleans the tops of his toes with her darting tongue.

“Good. But you must clean between the toes with your tongue as well, heroine,” Mohammed commands. He reaches down and takes off his sandals one by one. Girding herself for the foul task, Diana bends low again and cleans the strands of fiber and clots of sweaty toe jam from between the rank toes of Mohammed. When they are fully cleaned, Mohammed says, “Back up to the center of the circle, Wonder Tongue.” And she goes there on her hands and knees, backing up awkwardly as the drugs in her system alter her balance a bit.

Ishmael simply says, .”Sufa. Your turn.”

The fat terrorist dressed in a pale yellow robe barks out his command eagerly. “Wonder Woman, come here on all fours and kneel before me. Then suck my fingers while you pleasure yourself.”

That isn’t so bad! Diana crawls up to the huge, squat terrorist in yellow, kneels before him and he starts to extends his hand to her. But then he draws it back with a sudden, blunt, “Wait!” He reaches behind himself, hikes up the hem of his robe and scratches his ass crack, getting his finger deep into the folds of his sweaty buttocks. He then extends this hand forward inches from Wonder Woman’s recoiling face.

“No!” she blurts, horrified at the sudden disgusting turn in the command she must follow.

“No?” Ishmael says, looking at Sergei off to the side, his eyebrow cocked quizically.

“You may discipline her, but no scars,” Sergei says loudly from across the room.

“I’m sorry...please...I didn’t...” Wonder Woman is whimpering and shaking in fear. “..it took me by surprise...Please...I can’t...anything else...please...”

Sufa reaches to a pocket in his robe and brings out a stout long polished hickory stick.


“Wait, no don’t. I’ll do it. I’m sorry. I’ll do it,” Wonder Woman pleads for mercy but the stick in raised high in the air and when it sweeps down she blocks it with her bracelet, her phony non-bullet repelling, soft fabric bracelets. The stick rings against the bone in her wrist with a bruising smack that knocks her arm completely out of the way. Sufa follows up with short snapping shot to the top of Wonder Woman’s head and she collapses onto her forearm with her ass in the air. Her cheek presses against the brown speckled linoleum and her tongue slips out of her mouth in drooling, stunned bewilderment. Sufa bends down and crams the offending fingers of his soiled hand into Wonder Woman’s mouth. She can taste the sour flavor of his taint. Not shit but too damn close anyway. And then his other hand pulls aside the crotch of her starred panties and begin to slowly slide up and down the length of her labia. The stunned and drugged heroine feels a subtle tingle of pleasure down there but is too dazed to respond in any way other than quiver in place. The fingers increase in their pace and Wonder Woman’s breathing picks up a bit. With a full minute of this invasive finger play, the Amazon is feeling quite randy and her head has recovered enough so she can try to sit up. When she starts to shift so she can stand up, but Sufa raises the hard hickory stick over her head and says, “Stay down, bitch, if you don’t want me to clobber you again. Now suck on my fingers like I commanded you before.”

Diana relaxes her body and just lies there sucking on the foul fingers of Sufa’s one hand while the fingers on his other hand begin to probe deeper into her sex. He proceeds to rub all around the inside of her vagina, his two fingers plunging in and out like a miniature dick, building her pleasure and her frustration at the same time. After three minutes of his relentless fingering of her twat, Diana is sucking on his now tasteless fingers with a purpose and a lustful need that surprises her. Her breathing is irregular, short gasping moans followed by rapid panting as Sufa works her to a full frenzy of frustrated need.

“..awmmm....auwfff....mmmhhhh...g..gud....gud...” she murmurs, sucking on Sufa’s fingers now with all her soul. Her body is writhing on the linoleum in a trembling jumble of twisted arms and legs as the heroine is driven to the edge of sexual climax and then brought back down as the fingers withdraw for full, frustrating moments at time until Diana’s blood cools.

And then Sufa raises his stick over Wonder Woman’s head and shouts, “Enough!”

Whimpering, Diana opens her mouth and Sufa pulls his fingers out. He yanks his slippery hand out of her panties as well, a thin thread of her lubrication following his fingers until it breaks off.

“Back up to the center of the circle, Wonder Slut,” Ishmael commands.

After swaying for a mere 15 seconds on her hands and knees, Wonder Woman’s pussy continues to vibrate with need as it slowly drips her lubricant into her panties, darkening them conspicuously.

Ishmael issues the next command. “Crawl around the circle with your ass in the air, whore, and beg each of us to fuck you in every possible way you can imagine. Loudly. However, we will call you in any order we like and you must scurry over to that man, raise your ass in the air and beg him to pleasure you in a new way each time. Let’s begin.”

“Come here, Wonder Cunt,” says Harga.

Crawling quickly to the brown-robed terrorist, Wonder Woman lowers herself onto her forearms and hoists her ass high in the air. “Please fuck me now,” she pleads, actually hoping the man will touch her rear. He does not.

“Now to me, slut,” says Mohammed.

Quickly crossing the circle on all fours, Wonder Woman turns her back to Mohammed and presents her shapely rear end to him. “I want your dick, pleeeaaaseee!” There’s no response.

Over here, Wonder Whore,” calls Bensir.

Crossing the diameter again, Wonder Woman turns and hoists her ass up. “Give me your cock,” she wails. Why was she so horny? Bensir briefly caresses the inside of her butt cheek and Wonder Woman sways her ass back and forth to enjoy the caress but it is gone before she knows it.

“This way, American pussy pump,” demands Sufa.

She rushes over, turns and poses, ass up and ready, hopeful. “Put your dick in my damn twat!” She cries tears as Sufa stands silent, un-touching, unresponsive.


The game goes on for ten more minutes, driving the helpless heroine crazy with lust as occasional passes of strong hands inside the crack of her uniform panties make her drip with desire. She wanders back and forth on all fours across the circle time after time, begging to be violated, to be punished, to have cocks, tongues, rulers, dildos or fingers shoved into her to fill her need. At the end, the distraught, frustrated Champion of All Women curls into a ball in the center of the circle screaming for pleasure as the dope overwhelms her system and drowns her in dire need.

Finally Ishmael feels Wonder Woman is ready. He sends all the men back against the far wall for a moment. Then calls out.

“Harga, Come here and lie down on the floor so this famous fornicating hero whore can straddle you and take your cock into her miserable fishy fuckhole.”

“You miserable bastard,” the drugged, highly frustrated Amazon beauty blurts out foolishly, her internal editor dismissed for the rest of the day by the drugged water.

SMACK!

Wonder Woman is knocked backward hard enough by Ishmael’s hefty slap to hit her head against the floor with a soft thump. The raven-haired princess’ eyes blur momentarily as her knees open up wide from the impact. She is so imbalanced that her bright blue crotch is exposed for all to see. Ishmael drops to one knee beside the sprawled heroine and palms her throat in his large hand, pinning her to the floor in a position of complete helplessness.

“You should save that smart mouth of yours for Bensir, Wonder Whore,” Ishmael says with cold venom. “It takes a lot of work to make him happy. You’ll need all your energy for that. And to satisfy us. Don’t you agree, slut?”

“Yes, Ishmael,” Wonder Woman replies with a harsh rasp within the big man’s tight grip of her throat.

“Yes, Ishmael, my master!” Ishmael prompts her, tightening his grip.

“Yes, Ishmael, my master,” Wonder Woman parrots in quick reply. Her fear and her drug-addled brain nullify her thinking to immediate compliance.

The tall Muslim releases Diana’s throat but doesn’t take his hand away. He merely opens the large hand to its widest and slowly moves it down from Wonder Woman’s throat to her cleavage.

Sergei reaches into his pants pocket and presses a button on the small remote control hidden there. The lights brighten slightly and outside the room, on the other side of the long mirror on the opposite wall, well-oiled steel shutters silently slide down to reveal a broad plate glass window to the street outside: New York’s famous Columbus Circle.

Inside the room, the mirror remains a smooth reflective surface, bouncing back the degrading image of Wonder Woman’s tunic being slowly tugged down by Ishmael. Outside, a resting bicycle messenger wearing black satin riding shorts and a blue and red spandex top is recoiling in surprise from the moving shutters. Spinning around, the red bearded lad with short cropped red hair under his blue and yellow helmet watches with alarm and curiosity as the steel shutters slowly withdraw into a steel casing below a large window in the building before him. He thinks it must be a store opening up for the day. Checking his watch, the bike messenger sees it is 10:45 a.m. He should be on his way since he has to deliver an envelope to a law firm six blocks away by 11:00 a.m. Curiosity takes hold however and he leans in closer, peering through the window to see what merchandise the store offers.


The redheaded youth is stunned to see it’s not a store at all. It looks like a plain room, a rather ugly one at that, with a bunch of men standing around in dirty robes of some kind. Looking closer, he looks past the knot of men and spies a woman in a red top and what looks like blue shorts with white stars who is lying on her back with her knees spread open. Another man looming over her is tugging on her gold and red top. It is then that the young bike messenger realizes he’s looking at Wonder Woman and his eyes widen in amazement.

“What the fuck!?” His mouth agape, Brian Knox completely forgets about the envelope he has to deliver and watches with eager anticipation as Wonder Woman’s top is slowly pulled down, revealing more and more of those bodacious soft breasts.

Inside the room, Sergei casually rises and steps back to the far wall and touches another button on the remote that dims the single light over his head slightly, casting him in a pale shadow that he knows makes it impossible to see his face from the street outside.

Nipple! Brian sees Wonder Woman’s nipple exposed and then the man in the faded blue robe briskly rubs the pinkish tip of that remarkable breast between his fingers. Wonder Woman’s mouth opens into an oval of pleasure even as her eyelids flutter and her irises roll up slightly.

The bike messenger’s eyes widen at this exaggerated reaction to a little simple nipple tweak.

“Damn, Wonder Woman must be really horny,” Knox says to himself. He looks around and while there are people nearby, nobody is walking by this section of the sidewalk right now. Pulling his cell phone out of his back pocket, Brian points it at the scene in the window of Wonder Woman’s head swaying back and forth while the man beside her rubs and pinches and flips her nipple with constant, aggressive motions. The lovely Amazon’s mouth remains open in an obvious moan as her eyelids continue to flutter and blink in blatant pleasure. He takes the shot with his cell phone, then types an accompanying text message. “Check out Wonder Woman’s new hobby!” He immediately emails it to his fellow messenger who’s across town on his way to an ad agency located above Grand Central Station.

The next thing that Brian sees is one of the other men in a green robe walking over toward Wonder Woman and sitting on the floor beside her. The man in blue then pulls Wonder Woman up to a kneeling position, still playing with her right nipple. The black haired heroine’s chin head drops down, facing the floor and she shimmies in place, clearly excited by the fingers teasing her nipple. Just then, the man in green puts one hand on the costumed heroine’s hip and his other hand palm up against her crotch. He begins rubbing his hand in circles there and the Amazon beauty’s hips jerk forward and back and her head lifts up, her eyes at half mast. Slowly, Wonder Woman’s tongue circles her lips in a display of erotic pleasure that Knox also captures on his cell phone.

“What’s going on?” A male voice behind the bike messenger startles him and, embarrassed, he almost drops his cell phone trying to jam it in his pocket.

“Uhh, nothing, just watching something...uh...strange.” Brian looks sideways to see a middle-aged businessman with a briefcase leaning forward toward the window to get a better look at what’s going on inside. His eyes go wide as saucers after only ten seconds.

“Holy shit! Isn’t that Wonder Woman?”

“Sure looks like her. But she could just be some actress or something,” Brian replies. “Last I heard, Wonder Woman was captured by terrorists. What would she be doing here at Columbus Circle?”

“Tell me what you think those guys in the robes look like, kid,” the businessman answers.

“Gosh. Like terrorists I guess.”

“Looks that way to me too.”

“Think we should try to help her?”

“I guess so, it’s like six against one in there,” Businessman replies.

Just then, the tall man in blue lifts Wonder Woman a foot off the floor by her breast and the back of her corset while the man in green slides beneath her.

“This isn’t good, or fair,” Brian scowls at the scene in the window before him. He’s about to knock on the window with his knuckles when Wonder Woman’s face lifts up with an expression of unbridled lust. This shocking expression stops the bike messenger in his tracks. He watches in stunned silence along with the businessman beside him as Wonder Woman’s hands reach down to the man in the green robe who is eagerly hiking up the hem of the tattered garment to reveal a pair of dark green briefs with a brown waistband. The dangling woman’s graceful hands slide over the prone terrorist’s underwear, eagerly caressing the rising lump within. She then pulls out the dark pulsing muscle until it’s at a rakish angle in the air.

“This doesn’t look right. I think she’s gonna fuck him,” Knox says softly. “Wonder Woman is going to willingly fuck a terrorist!”

“Actually, unless I miss my guess,” the businessman says with a touch of anger in his tone, “she’s going to suck off a terrorist.”

And as the two gaping men watch through the window in utter astonishment, they see the famous Amazon beauty slowly lowered onto to the body of the man in green by the terrorist in blue. Without a hint of hesitation, Wonder Woman wraps her thighs around the prone man’s lower right calf and begins to hump his leg with a slow back and forth rocking of her hips. She nestles her tits tightly around the smiling man’s thighs and takes his hard cock in her hands and bows her head over it with a look of pure delighted anticipation before putting her full wide lips around the large purple head of his penis and starts sucking and licking the unit like the most experienced cocksucking prostitute in the cheapest $12 an hour whorehouse in New York City.

“Whoa. What a slut!” Businessman sneers with total disdain at the famous heroine before him. Is this how heroines dealt with terrorists these days? The middle-aged man is horrified by what he is seeing. Where was this woman’s honor? Where were all her principles she was always spouting; idealistic diatribes about looking out for your friends and your community? These men were the real life enemies of the United States and this sanctimonious bitch was humping and sucking on this low-life’s cock like the National Porn Queen of America!!

“Jeez,” sighs Brian, “I never would ‘a thought Wonder Woman was such a..such a..skank!”

“Who’s a skank?” This soft female voice behind the two men startles them and they both turn around to see a plain-faced young woman in her twenties wearing pale beige lipstick and matching eye shadow in a dark brown skirt and yellow silk blouse trying to see past them into the window.

“Wonder Woman,” answers Brian. “She’s in that room giving a blow job to a terrorist!”

“No fuckin’ way!”

“See for yourself,” Brian say, stepping to the side to give the young brunette a better view. Cupping her hands around her face without banging the window, the young lady’s mouth drops open as she watches the famous Amazon heroine bob her head up and down over the prone man’s cock with quickly repeated strokes of her tightly compressed lips.

“Gad, look at that cocksucking tramp go!” Yellow blouse is stunned and amazed in equal parts. “Fuckin’ A, have a little dignity, you pathetic jizzbucket!”

Both men look at each other in startled reaction to the adamant declaration of the young woman standing there at the window in frowning fury.

“Why are you gettin’ so mad,” Brian asks.

“Why?” Yellow Blouse’s voice goes up to near screech as she turns on the bike messenger. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because that paragon of virtue in there is defiling everything she ever claimed to stand for! Feminist activist, my ass! Apparently, you get little Miss Wonder Tits hot and bothered and all her sisters’s cunts can dry up and blow away in a dust storm as long as she’s got a penis she can pucker up to!”

“Not to mention she’s giving blow jobs to Osama Bin Laden’s hand-picked legion of death dealers,” Businessman growls. The three of them are standing in a triangle not even looking in the window as they converse in angry tones.. “Makes me sick to think how low America has sunk when one of her most beloved champions proves she’s nothing but a spineless toady who gobbles our enemies’ cocks without even trying to escape.”

“Yeah, she didn’t put up any kind of fight at all!” Brian states. The young woman has turned back to look in the window and blanches in horror.

“F..F..Fighting?” Yellow Blouse sputters. “Does that look like fighting to you two?”

Turning back to the window, the two men see Wonder Woman peel herself up off the terrorist in green in a slow, seductive stretch of lithe, rippling muscles like an overfed panther waking from a nap. She then eagerly and carefully position her pelvis over the terrorist in green in an squat of lurid sexual titillation and slowly grinds herself on the head of the man’s prick with circular motions that display a deep carnal experience that takes all speech away from the three gaping observers. After a full half-minute of this lewd graphic exhibition, Wonder Woman finally lower herself onto his jutting prick with a slow, lecherous smile and then a wide open sigh of contentment.

“Fuck! Would you look at that!” Brian stares into the windowed room with ever-growing resentment. “Wonder Woman just presented her precious pussy to Osama’s homey there like the Countess of All Cunts!”

“Which is exactly what that bitch is!” Yellow sweater snarls.

Brian takes out his cell phone out again, this time for a validating photo of the shameless behavior of the famous Amazon slut. He titles it “Wonder Woman Squatting on Terrorist Cock” and sends off to his messenger friend. Miss Yellow Blouse beside him reaches into her purse and pulls out a small digital camera. She captures a series of scenes that would have Wonder Woman digging a hole a mile deep to crawl into if she was remotely aware of the fatal blow she was dealing to her reputation as a heroine of noble stature. The first shot is one of an ecstatic Wonder Woman with her head thrown back as she gyrates her hips to get the most sensation from the hard muscle pulsing within her loins. The second photo taken catches Wonder Woman’s twisted satisfied sexual leer right in the act of pulling the blue robed terrorist’s face into her cleavage while her hips jut forward as she continues to enjoy her ride on the green terrorist’s fleshy pole. The third shot captures the Amazon princess as she leans forward with both hands around the cock of the terrorist with his blue robe hiked up to his hips as while her tongue stretches out to eagerly lick the bulbous head of the tall, smiling bearded man’s jutting penis.

“Ha! That’ll teach Wonder Whore there to go down on America’s enemies,” Yellow Blouse says with a triumphant laugh. “I think the Daily News would like these photos. And pay a nice amount for them.”

“Who’s going down on someone?”

“Yeah, who?”

Twin skateboard-carrying teenage brothers with almost white blonde hair cut short with buzz-cut sides slow down as they reach the group at the window.

“Wonder Woman,”Businessman announces. “She’s in there showing a bunch of terrorists how America opens her legs to allow them easy access to all her most precious treasures.”

“You’re punking me, right? There’s no effing way Wonder Woman is banging terrorists. And she’s definitely not doing it right here at Columbus Circle.”

“Be my guest,” Businessman gestures with a wave as the two tall skateboarders walk up to the window.

The twins lean in closer and their eyes widen in shock at the sight of Wonder Woman slathering her tongue all around the head of some tall blue-robed dude’s pecker while another man beneath her holds her hips and jerks his ass up and down like a humping dog while his penis drives in and out of the exposed snatch of the clearly satisfied bleary-eyed heroine.

The two boys turn away from the window and turn to each other in perfect unison, saying in tandem, “Slut City!”

“Tell me about it,” Yellow Blouse murmurs. “Looks to me there’s not a cock that bitch hasn’t met that she hasn’t left in a twisted tangle of cunt juice and saliva!”

“Whoa!” one of the white-haired brothers exclaims at the plain-faced brunette. “Issues much?”

Turning to the speaking youth, Yellow Blouse glares at him ferociously. “Yeah, I got issues when it comes to a supposed superheroine taking a long hard one up her joy box when she should be kicking ass and taking names. She look like she going to take those bastards to jail? I’d say she’s taking them to heaven instead. And little Miss Multi-Holes looks like she’s going along for the ride. Her thighs look like they’re wet enough to go water skiing on and I’m guessing she smells like low tide about now. Doesn’t that piss you off after all this country’s been through?”

“Well, sure it does,” answers the blonde lad. “But what the eff can we do about it?”

“We can try finding a cop around here and have him put a stop to this,” Brian the bike messenger chimes in. “She and them must be breakin’ all kinds of laws doin’ the nasty like that in public.”

“No doubt about that,” Businessman replies turning his head sideways to get a better look at Wonder Woman’s snatch being pile-driven by the green-robed terrorist beneath her.

“What is that guy doing now?” The second blonde skateboarding brother asks as he points at a third man in a brown robe who’s walking up to the man in blue who’s cock is buried balls deep in Wonder Woman’s mouth. She is slowly nodding her head ever so slightly with the steady pace of a metronome, barely giving herself a chance to breathe as her drawn cheeks pull pleasurably on the man’s wide cock

Just then the brown robed man taps the blue man on the shoulder and the taller man nods and grabs a clump of Wonder Woman’s hair and pulls her head back sharply. His long dick appears like a magic trick out of the Amazon’s gaping mouth, the shaft shiny with saliva. With her head swaying side to side in a stupefied confusion of arousal, Wonder Woman leans back slightly and simply enjoys the ride on the cock of the terrorist lying beneath her. She jerks her hips while she fingers her clit with lightly grazing fingernails. Her sensuous, full mouth opens in a wide circle with an obvious pleasured gasp and the tall man in blue opens his mouth in an obvious howl of laughter as he releases the sex-starved heroine’s hair and walks around behind her back. One hand still holds the hem of his blue robe high as he brings his other hand up to his face and spits in it.

“Looks like Obama’s boy in blue there is going in that Amazon slut’s back door,” Yellow Blouse says with a snort as she sees the man put his hand on Wonder Woman’s back and gently pat it. She willingly bends forward at this gesture. “And what a surprise, the famous princess of Themyscira is going to let him plow her ass like a farmer’s first spring. God, has this bitch no self-respect left at all?”

“I’d say not much,” answers the red-headed bike messenger, “since she’s about to go down on brown belt there with the taste of blue boy still in her mouth.”

Indeed, Wonder Woman is leaning even further forward in order to reach the penis of the man in brown. He has already hiked up his robe, letting his elbows hold it in place as the eager terrorist quickly pulls down his red plaid boxer shorts and lets them fall around his ankles. He steps forward over the legs of his green-robed brother still humping away at Wonder Woman’s pussy like a man possessed.

Meeting the brown-robed man’s cock halfway, the famous heroine takes his cock in her two hands and opens wide for him. She slips his cock up along her tongue until he’s half buried in her mouth. The dreamy-eyed Champion of All Women slowly closes her luxurious lips around the hard member, grips him hard with bright pink lips turned paler and pulls back on it ever so slowly, withdrawing until just the head is still in her mouth. She then opens wide and pulls back just far enough to allow her tongue the proper distance to flick and dance and slather spit on the pulsing glans with a twisting, gyrating, frenzied blur of tightly wrapped pink-pointed pleasure. She then repeats her technique, gripping the cock in her lips, pulling back and then flipping her tongue erotically all around the head of his member.

The group outside the window is transfixed by this obscene exhibition of wanton lust by the quartet before them. It’s not just the terrorists bumping, thrusting and driving into the now jerking and bouncing body of the woman between them that was so blatantly indecent. It was the active, eagerly compliant behavior of the famous Amazon heroine that was most stunning of all. The once proud, pure heroine was so luridly and willingly sucking, licking and gobbling cock while twisting her hips and bouncing her pelvis and butt cheeks against the two driving rods that it was unclear who if anyone was being taken advantage of here.

“God, she is relentless. And so are they,” Businessman moans. He has a hard-on that is tenting his suit pants like a lean-to. Only his briefcase held before him covers his arousal from the others. The black satin shorts of the bike messenger clearly demonstrate how much he likes the view as well. The breathing pace of the twin teenagers has increased slightly as well. And Yellow Blouse is unconsciously licking her lips as she studies the black-haired woman’s technique for pointers she can use for later, when and if she ever landed a man.

When the tireless heroine goes for her fifth encore of her suck-and-slather routine, the terrorist in brown throws his own head back even as he grabs for Wonder Woman’s skull. With this great and famous beauty posed before him on her hands and haunches, Bensir is on the very edge of losing all control. He holds her head firmly in place as he rapidly begins to drive his penis in and out of the half-lidded female before him. He’s dominating her, teaching her who is her master.

It’s obvious that Wonder Woman is delirious with pleasure herself. Her eyelids flutter and the irises barely seen beneath them tremble like pale blue butterflies even as the man in blue behind her pushes his hips firmly forward until they bump up against her soft, shapely butt. He’s clearly buried his dick as far as possible up the shapely beauty’s anus and the Themysciran marvel hasn’t protested one bit at the intrusion. Quite to the contrary, she has welcomed his cock with open ass! Clearly well-lubricated by the continuous attention to every erogenous zone on her body, Wonder Woman is the very picture of lust pursued. She shimmies, shakes and twitches in a dozen directions at once as she seeks with complete abandon to feel and enjoy the fingertips, the hard fleshy rods and the flashing tongues going at her every sensitive spot. Driven by the drug and long past the fear of Sergei, or even his presence for that matter, Diana seeks only the golden path to an orgasm to top all orgasms. And she’s damn close. And so are her three thrusting compatriots.

It is Bensir in brown with his hugely engorged penis thrusting deeply in and out of Wonder Woman’s mouth that loses his control first. Her soft, plump lips stretched widely open as possible nevertheless still graze against the surface of the driving shaft. This final heady sensation is far too much for the man to handle any longer and he freezes in place, holding Wonder Woman’s skull rigidly still. He penis erupts with a thick jet of cum that shoots down the wide-eyed heroine’s throat. It’s a bit too much to swallow although the majority of it goes down her gullet. The backflow splatters out of the sides of Wonder Woman’s mouth and drains down her chin and cheeks. And then a second eruption from the jerking rod held tightly in her mouth blows and Wonder Woman’s entire face is splattered with thick dripping jism that has ejected like a broken cum- filled water balloon from her mouth and bounced off of Bensir’s crotch right back at her. Heavy drops of white spunk hang off the end of the dazed heroine’s nose, her cheeks and her chin, falling onto her chest and the top of her tunic in round, pungent spots of shame. But far from being humiliated by this cum shower, the Amazon beauty is highly aroused by the sensation of not only swallowing his third and final thin shot of fragrant jizz but the feel of her face dripping with a man’s ultimate pleasure.

Her moaning hum of contentment causes Bensir’s cock to jerk again in her sensitized mouth and Wonder Woman’s oral pleasure tips her scales into a small joyous little flare of orgasmic delight that floods her brain with a shiver of ecstasy. Her irises float upward with this pleasure and her hips jerk with unconscious delight. This pelvic stutter is the flame that ignites the blow torch of pleasure within Harga in green below her. Just as Bensir pulls his sticky, cum- covered dick with its long hanging white threads out of Wonder Woman’s mouth, Harga’s thrusting hips bolt forward with a shock of urgent helplessness as he grabs her waist and lets lose his own fire hose of semen deep into Wonder Woman’s tightly clutching pussy. It spears like a water jet against the deepest recesses of her overly stimulated vagina and the Champion of All Women is blasted by a halo of expanding pleasure from her innermost core. Unthinking, Diana clutches her arms around Bensir’s legs even as her pelvis jerks and bucks in blinding, moaning pleasure. Her firm spasming pussy clenches around Harga’s pulsing cock, vibrating with firing neurons in her drug-soaked brain as she draws every last drop of spunk from the collapsed terrorist’s dick underneath her.

Wonder Woman’s pussy spasms aren’t the only area of her groin inundated with ecstasy. Her rear end, thickly packed with pulsing prick jerks and bumps in helpless joy as well. And then there were three violently cumming terrorists who have been brought to streaming, jetting satisfaction within the heroine’s sweat-covered body. Ishmael’s lunging, spouting member shoots its wad deep into Wonder Woman’s ass, finalizing the realization of her utter helplessness in the tightly enfolding hands of her captors. As Ishmael grips the raven-haired heroines’ breasts and thrusts his cock deep within the cleft of her rear, his spurting, jerking ram of flesh sets off the champion’s unchecked libido for the third and final time. And this one was a gusher: a real hip twisting, spine curling, head shaking climax that blew out from some unknown spot deep within Diana she’d never known about. Her mouth opens in shriek of total joy even as thick cum in wide, slick strings drools out over her lips onto the brown speckled linoleum. From between her legs, a rush of thin cloudy liquid floods out around Bensir’s shrinking cock and drizzles down Diana’s quivering thighs. Collapsed against her back, Ishmael lies like a dead fish and his weight collapses the spent Champion of All Women to the floor, arms and legs splayed on top of an exhausted Harga and next to a dazed and wheezing Bensir. On top of her, Ishmael groans with a long, low drone of pleasure.

Outside on the sidewalk at Columbus Circle, the small crowd of five onlookers has drawn more than twenty more shocked and outraged citizens by the end of the carnal display of Wonder Woman’s unbridled lust along with those of her partners. While the four exhausted bodies lie in the middle of the floor, the Businessman finally takes hold of his libido and dials 911 on his cell phone.

“Hello, Police, I’ve just witnessed a rape. And the perpetrators are still here. And so is Wonder Woman. Yes, that’s what I said. The scene is Columbus Circle, the Brighton Building. You can’t miss the crowd. Thank you.” Clicking the phone shut, the Businessman says with a grim smile. “I hope they take them all in, Wonder Woman included.”

“Damn right,” answered one man.

“Couldn’t agree more,” a woman scowled.

Inside the Room of Shame, Sergei backs up and opens the door when he feels his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He snaps it open even as he pushes a third button on the remote in his other pocket.

“We’re here,” a voice says softly in his ear.

“I’m opening the door in one minute.”

The lights overhead shift down radically in their intensity and a trio of new lights flickers on, aimed directly at the mirror. The change in illumination brings up the weary heads of the four fucked out “friends” in confused, blinking stares. Before them is a large window right where the mirror used to be. Wonder Woman, her face plastered with thick, drying cum and her body leaking it out into a growing puddle between her weary tangled legs, is the first to realize what the window means. She sees a large crowd waving fists in the air and shouting at the window before them. She can’t be absolutely sure but she thinks she hears epithets such as “Slut” and “Whore” and “Traitor” barked out on the other side of the thick glass. She pushes off the floor, straightening her arms just as a huge clog of cummy phlegm coalesces in her throat. She hawks up the thick white clump onto the floor between her spreadeagled arms.

Those people could have a point.

And then the door is flung open on its hinges and all hell breaks lose in the small room around the disgraced Champion of All Women.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Nasty Habits
Part 56



The late afternoon sunset is turning the tall towers of Manhattan a lustrous gold against a remarkably clear azure sky for late autumn. The reflective surface of the Citicorp building shows a blur of red and blue as Supergirl rockets by the famous slanted roof comprised of solar energy cells. The famous Maid of Steel is on her way toward the headquarters of Don Gino Lupenzo in the high-rent Upper East Side of New York’s richest borough. Tony had given her the address and she’d memorized the picture of the four-story brownstone on York Avenue and 73rd Street that Don Lupenzo owned and used as his base of operations.

Her instructions given from Tony just five minutes ago were very straightforward.

“I want you to tear his place apart! Send his goons to the hospital within the bounds of your conscience, my dear. I would have you kill Gino for what he did to Stevie, but I know you won’t. Still, if you could leave him with a permanent scar and a message from me that would be great. Tell Gino he fucked up! He could have had another 70 million bucks from me in the general fund but he had to do things his way. Now the fund gets nothing and I’ll make sure that the families know it’s because of him. If you want to break his wrist or something for payback, be my guest. I’ll leave the details to you, Supergirl. Just make sure he suffers great mental and physical anguish and that his place is so badly destroyed that the city has to condemn it for public safety. When you come back, I’ll give you enough crack to make the next two days a festival of joy for you.”

Now, soaring above the New York skyline, the blonde heroine briefly considers that with all her super powers available, she could actually try to escape Tony’s control. But she rejects the idea immediately. With Diana off someplace unknown under the careful watch of Sergei, her Amazon friend’s very life would be jeopardized if she varied from her instructions. And the two of them had agreed not to show any resistance to Tony anymore. He was just too many steps ahead of them in his planning. If she tried something and failed, the repercussions would be terrible.

Besides, she was looking forward to getting a little revenge for Stevie. He could be a prick sometimes, but more often than not over the months, he’d treated them very well. Kara even kind of missed him. When she’d seen the news report of his death, she had been shocked and saddened. And she saw how hard Tony had taken it. After a brief drunken spree, Carmine had quickly become sternly efficient in his duties regarding security around the Pleasure Dome. He was barking orders, double checking everything constantly, and carrying his gun in a new leather underarm holster at all times. Even Tony was packing iron now in a shoulder harness of his own under his tailored suit jackets.

Below her, Supergirl spots Don Lupenzo’s building. There are two huge men, each big enough to be NFL lineman, both with short curly black hair wearing baseball sweatshirts standing on the set of brown concrete stairs leading up to the front door. The one wearing a Yankee World Series winner sweatshirt looks up as he hears the snapping sound of Supergirl’s cape nearing in the wind. His lifted chin is a perfect target as the heroine’s fist brushes against it with a quick flick of the wrist. The man’s body flies backward off the stairs and plummets down into the stairway leading into basement apartment of the building next door. It lands in a twisted heap of arms and legs and there is the cracking report of a major bone breaking, followed by a scream and then a grunt of the now unconscious thug.

The second man in the Mets sweatshirt has turned around and is pounding on the bright red front door, yelling at the top of his voice to be let inside. Supergirl hears the voice inside say “No fucking way, Vinnie. Gino would kill me. We gotta follow procedure.”

“Fuck procedure, Sal! I got Supergirl out here and she’s coming in one way or another. Tino is lying half-dead in the basement stairwell next door and I don’t want to join him!” The nervous hood twists his head around to see Supergirl standing there behind him, her arms crossed expectantly, one eyebrow raised at him.

“Well?” she says calmly.

“You can see I’m tryin’ lady. You see that, right?”

“Maybe I can be a little more assertive. Thanks for trying though.” She snaps her forefinger against her thumb and flicks the Mets fan in the forehead smartly. The huge thug collapses unconscious on the spot then rolls down the stairs and sprawls onto the sidewalk in an ungainly pose. Nothing broken there but he won’t be walking right for at least a week.

“Sal, you might want to stand back a bit,” the blonde dynamo warns then gives the front door a straight-arm with the palm of her hand. The heavy wooden door shatters into kindling and Supergirl strides into Gino’s building through a cloud of sawdust and smoke¼and into a fusillade of bullets from a trio of gunmen eight feet away in the center of wide marble foyer. Behind them a wide marble staircase ascends to the second floor.

“Boys, boys, boys. Don’t you read the papers? You have to know by now that I’m invulnerable to bullets.” The smirking blonde who has struck her famous heroic pose can barely be heard over the angry chatter of three ammo clips being emptied directly at her face, her chest, her stomach and her legs. The sound of clacking flattened slugs bouncing off her and against the hard white marble floor reminds Supergirl of a tap dance routine set at fast-forward. Finally the clips are empty and the trio of assassins look at each other in frowning disappointment.

“Please tell me you’re not going to throw the guns at me, too,” Supergirl says, scanning around the building for any traces of kryptonite in the area. She’d done it from the air when she first approached the building, of course, but didn’t see the tell-tale signature of the deadly element anywhere. Still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious. She had seen several locations with lead in the building so she wasn’t fully in the clear yet.

One of the trio of gunmen actually does throw his gun at her and then all three turn and race up the steps to a fallback position. Grabbing the gun in mid-air, an automatic machine pistol, Supergirl throws it directly at the back of the head of the very man who threw the piece at her.

“See how you like having guns thrown at you, dirtbag!”

The gun hits the man with a harsh thud and his legs collapse beneath him and he tumbles down six risers of hard marble with a series of painful grunts. When he comes to rest on his back, his face is pale with pain as a bone protrudes from his shin.

Supergirl squats down beside the groaning hoodlum and pulls on his leg until the bone retreats back into the bleeding leg.

“Can’t have you dying from blood loss now,” she murmurs even as she sears the wound with a stream of heat vision. The man screams in pain and faints dead away.

“Oh, did you want some kind of anesthetic?” The blonde throws out a rhetorical barb. “My bad.”

As she looks up the stairway, she sees the two men on the top landing who’d been shooting at her moments ago. They are half-cowering behind a new player, a tall, thin man with a gray mustache wearing a dark blue suit who is pulling the trigger on an army surplus bazooka.

“Ahh! Bigger toys. Great!”

The small missile screams down the stairs directly at the crouching blonde beauty who easily deflects it with a perfectly timed tap that sends the missile off to the right and into sliding wood doors that explode with a huge flash of flame and smoke. Through the hole, Supergirl sees some sort of library with several books on fire and a fish tank that has been destroyed. Water pours out of the shattered glass tank onto a fine oriental rug. Colorful angel fish are flopping around in shock, their gills flapping helplessly for the puddled water nearby.

“I can see you don’t care about me or your fellow hoodlum here, but you all killed the fishies! Now that’s just mean.”

Supergirl purposely stomps up the marble stairway, her boots cracking every marble step as she pounds her way upward. The stairway is completely ruined and it wobbles noticeably as the blonde destroys the stairs with obvious gusto. Surprisingly, she by-passes Bazooka guy and grabs the two assassins by their collars just as they have turned to run away. She quickly bangs their heads together and lets them drop unconscious to the floor. As she turns to deal with Bazooka guy, the large cylindrical weapon swings hard against the turning Supergirl’s face with a loud, percussive clank that dents the steel tube and draws a solemn frown from the blonde champion.

“The gun-tossing lesson went for naught, I see.”

Bazooka guy starts to draw a long-muzzled gun from his waistband when Supergirl grabs his hand and freezes it in place.

“Uh-uh, you dumb bastard. No second chances.” She crushes the man’s hand into fragments that drop his mouth open in the start of a scream that never comes because Supergirl’s other hand pokes at his Adam’s apple and crushes his windpipe. Wavering there in wide-eyed horror, the man takes a step back and leans against the wall in wheezing agony. Supergirl puts him out of his misery with a quick light rap on the top of his head and the unconscious man falls in a slump down the stairway to the floor. He’ll be in traction for months.

“Oh, Gino,” Supergirl calls out playfully, “come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Turning to her right, the Maid of Steel looks through the set of double doors with her powerful x-ray vision to see a figure standing at a sideboard drinking from a large tumbler. Anyone that calm with all the noise and commotion going on in his house must be Don Lupenzo. Supergirl raises her forearm and brings it down on the set of double doors before her, shattering an ample-sized hole for her to easily pass through. Once again, she scans the room for the tell-tale signature of any deadly kryptonite but sees nothing. There is a small ornately painted red box on the coffee table in front of a burgundy leather couch that she can’t see through. Since Lupenzo is across the room from it, she lets it slide for the moment but keeps it in mind if he makes a move toward it.

“Hello, Supergirl. How nice of you to stop in for a visit.”

“Don Lupenzo, I presume.”

“That’s right,” he replies, keeping calm despite his troops being rendered utterly useless to him.

“Don’t go anywhere,” the blonde beauty says, holding up her forefinger. “I’ll be right back.” With a quick flexing of her powerful legs, Supergirl springs upward, smashing through the ceiling into the floor above. And then the floor above that. There is the sound of much smashing metal and glass. His whole computer set-up is up there. He hears several shouts and groans and some gunfire. Don Lupenzo sadly shakes his head. The bitch is destroying his entire base of operations and it’s going to cost him about five million bucks if not more.

“I’m going to make Tony pay for this. If I live,” Gino vows softly.

Smashing down through a second hole six feet away, Supergirl lands in front of Gino with a hard thump. She brushes plaster dust and other debris off her shoulders as she looks straight at Gino.”

“So, you’re working as Don Bonano’s enforcer now, huh, Supergirl. Quite a drop in pay grade for you, ain’t it? I thought you super types didn’t associate with criminals. Oh, but you’re different, aren’t you, Supergirl. Bit of a crack whore, I heard.”

The Maid of Steel takes a quick step forward and easily lifts Don Lupenzo by the throat until his feet dangle a foot off the floor.

“..ilgk...gonna...kill me..now...?” Gino chokes out in a hoarse whisper. “br..breakin’ all...your rules....today....huh...blondie...”

“You deserve to die, Lupenzo, but I’m not going to be the one to do that. I don’t want to get my hands dirty.”

“How ‘bout...auk... lettin’ me....urgk...down then, toots,” Gino rasps out.

“Not before I deliver a message from Tony, old man,” Supergirl growls. “You played your hand wrong, Lupenzo. Tony says you could have had another 70 million bucks from him in the general fund. But since you had to do things your way, that fund gets nothing. In fact, Tony says he’ll be sure that the families know it’s because of you that they’re not getting squat. How do you think they’ll like that turn of events?”

“That...ehgk... the whole.... message?” Gino’s eyes begin to lose their luster as the lack of oxygen begins to take its toll on his elderly body.

“Not quite. This is something to remember Tony by,” Supergirl says coldly. She pulls Gino closer to her body and lifts her other hand to his face, the fingernail brushing against his pockmarked right cheek.

“No! Don’t!” Gino’s eyes grow large as saucers at this shocking development. “You can’t...do... ...shouldn’t do this! You’re a superhero!”

The blonde teenager continues to easily hold Gino up by the throat with one hand as the fingernail on the other slowly draws a slanted line down the cheek from well below the eye to near the corner of his mouth. The skin parts easily and blood wells up from the lower layers of the three inch gash. The wound is deep and will definitely leave a scar.

“Hero? Me? Nah, I’m just a crack whore. Everyone knows that. Besides, who’d believe I do such as nasty thing like this?” Finished with the final part of her assignment, Supergirl snaps the light blue handkerchief out of Lupenzo’s breast pocket and presses it firmly to the shaking man’s cheek to stop the blood flow. She then gently lowers him to the floor. He raises his hand and takes hold of the handkerchief himself now, continuing to press it against his face as Supergirl releases his neck and steps back.

“Well, that’ll do it for today, Don Lupenzo,” Supergirl says. Then steps closer again to the rattled mob boss. “But... if anyone else on Tony’s crew gets hurt by any of your men, I will be back. And next time I won’t be so nice.”

“I understand Supergirl,” Gino says with a tremble in his voice. This hadn’t gone anything like he thought it would.

I have to try to turn this around somehow.

“I’m glad you do, Don Lupenzo. “Be sure you stay away from Tony’s turf and everything will settle down.”

“Agreed...agreed..and..and...why don’t we share a little crack to seal the deal,” Gino suggests.

Supergirl, who’d been turning to smash directly through the wall in one final act of destruction before flying back to Tony’s place stops in mid-turn. She glares at Gino.

“You must think I’m really stupid, Lupenzo,” she snarls.

“What? Why? What are you talking about?”

“Let me guess, we’ll just saunter over to the table and share a nice old pipe from that handy little box on the coffee table there, right?”

Gino looks at the box and then back at Supergirl. “Well, yeah, that’s right. Did you use your x-ray vision to see the pipe and crack in there?”

“Gino, you know very well I can’t see into that box. It’s lead lined. Your little trap isn’t going to work.”

“Lead lined? I don’t think so. It was my great grandmother’s. She gave it to me when I visited her in the old country just before she died. Why would it be lead lined?”

“Hand painted in Italy, huh? An antique that could have lead paint I suppose,” Supergirl muses aloud. She could certainly use some crack. It had been over seven hours since she’d last had any and this was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. She’d never purposely scarred anyone before or treated so many thugs with such cold brutality. Besides, with her powers, the crack would barely do anything to her. Still, it would feel good even if it only got her a tiny bit high.

“Let’s do this the smart way, Gino. I’ll smoke your crack but I’m standing here while you go across the room and open that pretty red box. If you produce a pipe and crack, we have a deal. But if you pull out a piece of kryptonite, I will burn your hand to ashes before you have a chance to throw it. Got me?”

“It’s no trick, Supergirl. I didn’t know it was lead paint. It’s just my grandmama’s decorated box..” Gino walks over to the coffee table, carefully showing Supergirl he wasn’t obscuring her view of the box in the least. He sits on the couch, opens the box and pulls out a bright orange glass crack pipe. And then he pulls out a small baggie filled with tiny white nuggets. He even tilts the box to show Supergirl the now empty box, holding it up so she can see it clearly.

“See! No kryptonite. No tricks. Just a little crack to confirm our agreement. Come on over.”

Cautiously, the mighty teenage heroine crosses the room and sits down beside Gino. He is clumsily trying to put the nuggets of his finest crack in the small pipe with one hand while his other holds the bloody handkerchief to his face. Supergirl picks up the box and looks inside and shrugs before putting it back on the glass table.

“Here let me finish that,” Supergirl takes the pipe from the awkward elderly mob boss and arranges the nuggets in the bowl with a careful shake. “You should go wash that cheek of yours, Don Lupenzo, and put some antiseptic on it. It will scar but at least it won’t get infected.”

“Thank you. A good idea. I’ll be right back.”

Supergirl places the pipe on the table, crosses her legs, brushes her breasts to clear some of the plaster dust from her famous red and yellow insignia on her chest, then smooths her skirt into place and settles back in the couch. Her cape is draped neatly behind her and her long muscular thighs catch the light from the track lighting overhead. The red boots will need cleaning after smashing through two feet of plaster. She buffs the toe of the boot with her thumb.

She knew this wasn’t in Tony’s script but she didn’t care too much about that. She’d just tell him she ran into a little more opposition than she expected. He couldn’t know for sure how long it would take for her to finish the assignment.

The moment Gino walks back into the living room wearing a broad wide Band Aid on his cheek Supergirl scans him for any kryptonite he might have stored elsewhere in the apartment. There is nothing in his hands or on his person anywhere. Good, he was playing it straight.

“A pretty heirloom like that and you keep crack in it, huh? Real classy,” Supergirl snorts.

“Well, I’m a classy guy,” Gino replies, ignoring the insult as he sits beside her, taking the pipe off the glass table. He leans over and hands the pipe to the stunning blonde beauty before him then produces a lighter.

“Ladies first,” he smiles. What a gorgeous piece of ass! That Tony Bonano is a lucky prick.

“Thank you.” Supergirl smiles back at the mob boss who appears to have calmed down now from the destruction and pain she’d inflicted upon him. She leans forward as the flame from the lighter hovers over the bowl of the orange crack pipe. Drawing in lightly, Supergirl pulls the flame deep into the bowl and the crack pebbles ignite with small crackling clicks. Taking the smoke deep into her lungs, Supergirl holds her breath to allow the drug to circulate as much as possible within her lungs.

The psychological enjoyment of the very act calms her down but with her superpowers intact, the drug has only the most minimal effect. She feels a light gladness at best. But that could just be the placebo effect. She drops her head back on the soft back cushion and slowly lets out a long stream of crack smoke into the air above her. She watches the swirling gray cloud rise slowly to the ceiling waiting to see if there’s any more effect from the drug. Not much of anything really. Beside her, Gino leans forward to take the pipe for his turn. His arm brushes against the box knocking it to the carpet. He leaves Supergirl holding the pipe out.

“Oh no! Grandmama’s box,” he says with a frown, quickly bending down to pick it up. “I hope I didn’t damage it.”

“Falling on the carpet, I doubt it,” Supergirl says, turning her head casually to look at him.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, carefully replacing the box on the table. He then leans forward and reaches with his left hand for the pipe that Supergirl is still holding out. He takes hold of the pipe with a strong grip, pinning her knuckles against the pipe as he holds it firmly in place. His other hand reaches behind her neck and clasps her shoulder firmly in an overly chummy hug.

“I’m glad we’re doing this. It’s very civilized,” Don Lupenzo says, smiling directly in her face a very uncomfortable half a foot away from the startled heroine.

“I...i...guess it is,” Supergirl replies. “But back off a lit...” Supergirl feels a sudden wavelet of dizziness. Couldn’t be the crack, could it? “...uhhhnnnn.... what’ve...ya...dun..?”

“Just this,” Gino leers. Supergirl hears a soft jingling by her opposite ear and turns away from Gino to see the tiniest pendant on a long silver chain being swung and dangled by her head. It is a glowing green crystal. Kryptonite!

She turns her head back to stare in shock at Gino.

“..but....where...” And then the crack really hits her. Weakened by the deadly green remnant of her home planet, Supergirl’s brain is suddenly inundated by a huge blooming flower of pleasure that is far too powerful for her to resist. Her mouth drops open and her head falls back onto the couch cushion for real this time. The Maid of Steel is blasted by the powerful drug, the strongest Gino had ever procured. With her arms limp at her sides, her face wiped dull with stupidity and her mouth twisted into a wan smile of warm bliss, Supergirl can do nothing as Gino quickly clasps the necklace around the sighing teenager’s throat, pulls her tunic open and lets the glowing pendant drop down between her ample breasts.

“Uuuuhhhh,” she moans, depleted and dumbfounded.

Knowing his timing is critical, Gino then stands up and takes Supergirl’s hands in his and says, “Upsy daisy, Supergirl” He pulls the drugged, addled blonde to her feet and says, “Take a little step over here. That’s good.”

The dully nodding champion complies, taking small unsteady steps away from the cocktail table as directed by Gino, then stands in place, swaying in slack-jawed confusion.

“..wheah...we...goen...?”

“Right here, Supergirl. I didn’t want you to break my coffee table.”

“...why.. wud....that...hap....UUGGHNNNN!”

The sudden devastating sucker punch to her belly drops the famous champion to her knees with a huge gasp of startled pain. She then falls over and curls up into a fetal position and tries to draw air into her lungs.

“WHHHEEEEZZ...WHHHEEEEZZ!”.

Gino is shaking his fist and frowning in pain himself. The girl wasn’t nearly weak enough from the small crystal. It was like hitting a leather clad stone wall.

“Fuck this,” Gino says and strides over to the opposite wall, reaching past the archway to the other room, he grabs an aluminum baseball bat and returns to stand over the wheezing Maid of Steel.

“You ignorant cunt! You destroyed my gorgeous building. Now I’m going to destroy you!” With a huge two-handed overhead downswing, Gino brings the wide gray and blue bat down onto Supergirl’s hip with a stunning thump of metal on flesh.

“EEYOWWW!” The blonde teen’s leg spasms outward in pain. The follow-up battering golf swing to her exposed knee draws a scream of agony from the overmatched heroine.

Reaching down, Gino roughly grabs a bewildered, frightened and grimacing Supergirl by the hair and turns her onto her back. Her eyes, half-open and dulled by pain and the crack, the defenseless heroine can’t begin to defend herself from another pile-driving jab to her abdomen, this time from a thick end of a solid aluminum bat. Doubling over onto the end of the hard club, in near fetal position once again, Supergirl has all the wind knocked out of her. She doesn’t comprehend why this is happening or how to protect herself. One moment she was on top of the world and the next, she can’t breathe, and can’t understand the situation. Lying on her side, she feels the bat yanked away from her mid-section. That seemed bad.

The next thing she knows, Kara feels her hair yanked again and gives a high keening shriek when it feels as if it’s being pulled out by the roots. She is twisted around onto her back again. Looking up, she sees Gino kneeling over her, bat raised high over his head, his eyes blazing with hate.

“...preeze...dun’t...”She tries to raise her hands for protection but realizes she’s lying on one and the second one is much too slow to stop the downward arc of shiny aluminum vengeance. The barrel of the bat slams down on her forehead.

THHUUUD

“OWWW!” It’s true, you do see stars! Glimmering shiny dots fill the air. They surround the bat as it swings down again, knocking brutally against her exposed forehead.

THHUUUD

“AAGHHH!” That pain was very bad. Must be a crunchcussion. Why’s he swinging... THHUUUD

“UUNGHH!” Everything spirals down like a lens. It goes from very wavy dark gray to very, very black. And that is the last thing Supergirl knows for a while.

“Damn this bitch is tough!” Gino stands up, wavering with exhaustion and dizziness for a moment. He can’t remember the last time he got this kind of cardio workout.

On the rug by his feet, Supergirl is completely limp, her legs entangled at the ankles, one hand pinned beneath her, the other thrown off to the side like a broken doll. Unconscious at last. Her forehead is swelling hugely, but the skin isn’t even broken. Still, she’s drooling down her cheek and her hand falls limply back onto the carpet when he lifts it and releases it. Definitely out for the count.

Gino wonders if the kryptonite pendant he got from Lex Luthor was big enough to do the job. Sure he didn’t want her dead. Hell, for what he planned, he didn’t even want her in horrible pain. So maybe Lex was right about the amount of kryptonite. The man was a genius. Everything he said would happen from the moment she drew her first breath on the pipe occurred just like Lex had predicted. Gino wondered if the experiment Lex wanted him to conduct would work. He certainly hoped so.

“Better get on with it. Don’t want her waking up until I’m ready.”

Going to the cardboard box that was next to the baseball bat on the other side of the wall, Gino takes out a coiled length of bright yellow nylon rope and two sets of handcuffs. He drops the stuff on the floor by the unconscious heroine and then lifts her up by her arms and drags her body face down over the wide surface of the glass coffee table. In doing so, he knocks the red box off the table again. Picking it up this time, he slides the bottom halfway open to reveal a very shallow secret compartment where the locket had been hidden until he palmed it before.

“See, Super dunce, a lead-lined false bottom compartment. Box looks empty, but it isn’t!”

Don Lupenzo tosses the box on the sofa then lifts up Supergirl’s skirt and lays it over her lower back, revealing her panties. The tight, silky red fabric clings to her shapely rear like a second skin. It confines and defines her rounded buttocks with shiny allure. The sweep of fabric accents the luscious rounded glutes while a simple seam down the center with gathering wrinkles in the fabric separates them into perfect half spheres. It is a heavenly ass! The panties mold themselves against her crotch flawlessly, showing the merest dimple in the fabric to suggest the feminine treasure beneath.

Gino lets out a long happy breath that he hadn’t been aware he was holding and delicately pulls down Supergirl’s panties. Slowly, half moons of soft, sensuous flesh are revealed as the famous heroine is stripped of her costume briefs. The dark shadows of her crotch steadily become visible as the smiling mob boss continues to pull on the underwear. With her pert teenage rear now fully exposed, Gino eagerly pulls the panties completely off her smooth thighs, down her legs and over her boots. He brings them to his face and inhales deeply with a pleased sigh, then tosses them under the table so Supergirl can see them staring her in the face when she regains consciousness. How humiliating.

Once the panties are off, Gino picks up the pace, quickly binding Supergirl’s legs to the coffee table legs. He coils the bright yellow rope tightly around the right boot from the ankles to the shins. He then coils the rope around the table leg so there is no give at all in the bright nylon strands. Gino binds the left boot the same way so that the silent blonde’s legs are spread widely apart. Gino kneels down and looks up at Supergirl’s body from underneath the glass table. Pressed against the glass top, Supergirl’s thin blonde bush looks like a tiny yellow steel wool pad from below. Her breasts are spread wide by her body weight, the nipples like flattened coins beneath the bright blue top.

Standing up, Gino walks around the table surveying his work. Delighted with the view, Gino sees Supergirl’s pussy clearly displayed. He leans over and gently caresses the puffy pink lips and the blonde teenager’s calves quiver and flex in reaction. Smiling, Gino pulls down her short red skirt to cover her naked rear for now, a semblance of modesty that won’t last long.

Leaning over, Gino picks up a set of handcuffs that he fastens around Supergirl’s left wrist, securing them to the table leg. He repeats the process with her other arm. The famous Maid of Steel is now safely secured with a power-draining kryptonite crystal wedged between her tits keeping her weak and completely vulnerable to his every whim. Now he is ready for fun. And so is the famous Maid of Steel although she is blissfully unaware of it for now.


* * *


Calling the scene “pandemonium” within the large room facing Columbus Circle would be a misnomer since everything was meticulously planned out by at least half the parties involved. Those left out of the complete planning sessions might have agreed on “clusterfuck”if not pandemonium. But within 30 seconds, their opinions on the semantics of the situation wouldn’t matter at all: being dead and all.

In fact, the only person who could get away thinking the scene was a clear case of pandemonium would have been Wonder Woman herself. She was in the middle of it all and, miraculously it seemed, escaped without a scratch. Actually, scratch that. She did get a bruise on her hip when she was thrown roughly to the side during the first few seconds of the capture of the phony terrorists..

The crowd of onlookers outside the window who observed and photographed the moments right after the door burst open would have called the scene horrific but it looked pretty damned organized to them. Three men of Italian descent who were wearing broad brimmed hats, dark suits, black shirts and white ties flooded into the room when the door burst open with a resounding bang of doorknob against the wall. The terrorists in dirty robes were shocked. This wasn’t part of any plan they knew about. The pair standing by the wall who’d been watching Wonder Woman being gangbanged by their partners just moments before put their hands up as the team of mobsters waved Uzis around the room shouting, “Get over by the wall.”

“We’re already by the wall,” the two men, a head-shaking Mohammed and the sullen, sumo-sized Sufa yelled back.

“Not you two, you three,” said the lead man of the mobster hit team, waving his machine pistol at Bensir, Harga and Ishmael who were entwined around a prostrated Wonder Woman’s body in varied states of disrobement. Hurriedly they gathered themselves and their dignity together. Harga, underneath the bleary, drugged Wonder Woman, pushed her off him with a harsh shove, rolling her awkwardly onto her hip. She grimaced as the three men rose up and walked over to the wall.

“They must have changed their plans,” thinks Mohammed. “This is much more dramatic with guns, obvious Mafia costumes and without the police uniforms as they’d said would be the case. That Tony is damn smart. Their part was done, now came payday.” Mohammed guessed they’d be marched out with talk of taking them to the police and American justice and all that, only to be sequestered away in a safe house til things quieted down. It was just good theater.

When the bullet hit his gut, he couldn’t have been more surprised. Beside him, his fellow companions from the Little Baghdad neighborhood in which they’d been recruited for an easy couple of grand each collapsed in wide-eyed horror as they were mowed down by the hit team who were firing silenced bullets into their torsos with practiced precision. Tony was leaving no trail behind for the cops. Amad, their leader who’d left earlier, would be dealt with in under an hour, his throat slit while he sat in a movie theater back in Queens. A final bullet to Mohammed’s head dropped him like a stone. The room smelled of cordite and shit.

Sergei, who’d immediately stepped out of the room after unlocking the door and letting the hit team flood inside, was making his way down the hallway back to the waiting limo. Wonder Woman would be taken back to the Pleasure Dome after the rest of her performance. Everything had gone exactly to plan.

The spectators outside were stunned by the violence they’d just witnessed. Some puked. Others used their camera phones. Others called loved ones and friends to share the big news.

Businessman, Yellow Blouse and Brian the bike messenger stood near the window in quiet silence and utter amazement as they watched Wonder Woman go back to work on her new set of captors, her mouth open, her eyes eager, her knees scuffed. It wasn’t until the sirens got nearer that the mafia men finally took action, roughly hoisting the Champion of All Women to her feet and pulling her out of the room to a safer destination.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Brian said as he stared at the room and the five dead terrorists. “You never realize how screwed up this planet has gotten.”

“That’s because it’s filled with people. And a lot of people are seriously screwed up.”

“What an incredible whore Wonder Woman turned out to be,” Yellow blouse says, shaking her head.

During the police questioning, the news trucks pulled up with tires screaming and satellite uplink dishes spinning. Once they were done with the police, the spectators were permitted to talk to the news teams with their bobbing microphones and shouted questions. The trio had a lot to tell them. None of it good for Wonder Woman’s reputation. Yellow blouse even had a camera video of key moments in the Amazon’s busy degradation. A lot of it made the news. Heavily edited of course.


* * *


Sitting on the plush leather sofa in his bedroom suite in the Pleasure Dome after an incredibly long and exhausting day, Tony is sipping scotch and watching NewsCenter 4, a broadcast by the flagship NBC affiliate in New York.

Standing in front of the Brighton Building at Columbus Circle, the petite, curvaceous and stunning blonde reporter Heather Wells is summarizing the incredible events involving Wonder Woman and the terrorist cell that had captured her earlier that year.

“Jim, the remarkable string of occurrences involving Wonder Woman continues to stun and puzzle not only New Yorkers but the entire world tonight. In a shocking turn of events today, the famous Amazon heroine was seen in this building behind me through this plate glass window having sex with the very terrorists that had captured her nearly two months ago. Onlookers who captured the event with cameras, cell phone pictures and videos have shared those media with this NewsCenter 4 reporter. They have been heavily edited but if you have small children in the room watching, we suggest you remove them promptly. These scenes are quite explicit.”

Tony chuckles as he rattles the ice and slowly sips his drink from the heavy tumbler. “I’ll just bet they are, Heather!”

“As viewers may recall, the Amazonian princess was captured in Bryant Park this past summer in a nasty attack that severely wounded the famed heroine. A terrorist group called Afghan Jihad claimed responsibility for that attack shortly afterward, but in the subsequent weeks, little was heard from the cell. The U.S. President refused their demands for five million dollars as well as their demands for U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan. And then the world waited and Afghan Jihad seemingly disappeared, along with all news or sightings of Wonder Woman until today.

“At approximately eleven a.m. this morning, a shutter slid open on this window revealing Wonder Woman with the alleged group of terrorists who had abducted her. She was spotted first by this bike messenger, Brian Knox.”

A talking head shot of Brian with his bike helmet under his arm fills the screen. “When I first saw what was happening, I thought, ‘No way. Not Wonder Woman. She’s not like that.”

“Like what,” Heather asks from off-screen.

“Like a...well, there’s no nicer word I can think of. Like a slut.”

“What was she doing, Mr Knox?”

“Well, uh...everything you could think of to...uh please the guys in the robes.”

“The terrorists?”

“That’s what they looked like to me.”

“How was she servicing them?”

“She was giving them bjs for one thing.” A cutaway shot to Wonder Woman’s boots pointed at the camera, the hem of a faded blue robe and a pair of elbows fills the screen. Along with a fuzzy pixilization that blocks out all details.

“Wonder Woman was performing oral sex on the terrorists?” Heather’s inflection is perfect. Cool indignation, like she would never think of committing such a heinous act. Certainly not on a terrorist.

Tony laughs out loud, yells “Yes!” and gives a fist pump in his suite.

“Oh yeah,” Brian smiles, then realizes he’s on camera and gets serious again. “And then it got...uh...even nastier.”

“How so?” Heather is unrelenting. Her producer when watching this interview before air time was popping Extra Strength Tums like candy.

“Well, she was doing a four-way with three guys. Uhhh....one for each...orifice?” Brian’s voice goes up at the end like a question, hoping Heather would approve his choice of vocabulary.

“Really?” Heather’s voice gets husky for a beat. “And did she seem to be attempting to withhold herself with these men or fighting back in any manner?” A choppy video fills the screen with more pixilization and a bobbing head of black hair, a man leaning over a blue and red blob and a pair of feet sticking out on the floor toward the camera. Nothing clear but you got the idea that someone was definitely having fun.

“Oh no,” Brian shakes his head back and forth vehemently. “No, she was an active participant.”

“Was she hesitant in any way or sluggish. As if possibly that she had been brainwashed somehow, Mr Knox?” Heather is trying to give Wonder Woman the benefit of the doubt.

Tony scowls at the televison at this suggestion. She was undermining all his work here. “Fuck you, Heather. She’s a slut. Go with the lead story, bitch,” Tony shouts at the tv.

“If she was brainwashed, I’d like to introduce those guys to my girlfriend,” Brian says. Then his mouth drops open and he mumbles, “That’s all I have to say for now,” puts his hand in front of the lens, jostling it and then walks off camera. The cuts shifts back to Heather’s standup at Columbus Circle.

“When that sex act was over, things got even stranger here, Jim. Apparently a team of three mobsters broke into the room, lined up the alleged terrorists and executed all five of them in merciless gangland style hit reminiscent of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.”

“And in a bizarre ending that stunned this seasoned reporter, Wonder Woman proceeded to provide oral sex to those men who “saved” her.” Heather air quotes the “saved” and scowls noticeably at this crude behavior on the part of the Amazon champion that the world had to seriously reassess at this point. “For now, Wonder Woman seems to be, to put it bluntly, at the services of the Mob.”

The scene cuts to another shot of Wonder Woman’s boot soles pointing to the camera, now posed in front of men in dark suits with their elbows visible and the pixilated view of a red and blue blur bobbing in the middle of the screen.

“Heather,” breaks in the anchorman Jim Brantley, “Mr Knox is not an expert in psychology in any way. But my question, like yours, remains: Is there any way it can be interpreted that Wonder Woman was coerced into doing this?

“Jim,” Heather replies in complete deadpan, “if I had to guess, I’d have to say that the famous Amazon has probably blown that chance!”

The scene cuts to the anchorman at this desk, also deadpan. He can be as professional as that Wells bitch any day of the week. Cooly he intones seriously, “I’m Jim Brantley. We’ll be back with more after this.”
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Used, Confused And Totally Abused
Part 57-A



Wonder Woman stumbles along the dim underground corridor in dazed confusion. Sounds seem to be the only thing getting through to her consciousness right at the moment. The sound of her clattering boot heels on the hard cement floor mixes with the thumping soles of her softly jogging companions around her. The drugs in her system still muddle her thoughts and fill her with a deep sluggishness. For now they eclipse the need for heroin. But that won’t be the case for long.

Pushed repeatedly from behind by one of the mafia hoodlums to move her along, the mighty Amazon’s wrists are tied tightly together with her phony golden lasso. Held tightly in the hands of the man in front of her, the lasso is drawn tight as he pulls Diana along without even looking back. The rapid retreat from the Room of Shame has produced a thin sheen of perspiration that coats the shuffling heroine’s body, beading up on her forehead, the top of her breasts and her inner thighs.

“Pick up the pace, princess. We don’t want the police to catch up with us,” the mobster behind her barks, prodding her lower back with the muzzle of his machine gun for emphasis.

“...sorry....i’m...just so....tired....”

“You can rest back when you’re back in your fancy suite, slut. Until then, you have to do what I say. Now move it! Your limo is waiting and you only gotta another couple a’ minutes to go before we get there.”

“...thank...Hera...” Wonder Woman sighs. With the foul taste of ejaculate from multiple men in her mouth and the sticky sensation of their oozing wetness draining down her inner thighs from the dripping crotch of her cum-soaked panties, the wrist-bound Amazon warrior shuffles along under a crushing weight of complete disgrace. Her head is hung low, her shoulders are slumped and she winces now and again when the stinging soreness of her violated rectum throbs while she makes her awkward way under the city streets.

Diana knows deep in her heart that she is now the exact opposite of the Champion of All Women. She realizes that she has let herself become nothing more than a shameless, sleazy whore for hire. She has not just let herself down, but her Amazonian sisters and the entire country as well with her scandalous sexual conduct. And while she can’t remember everything that happened, those acts she can recall disgust her to her very core. And that pile of dead bodies of those robed men would haunt her memories for quite a while.

Hera help me! What have I done and what is to become of me?




* * *



The feel of a wet cloth pressed against her face brings Supergirl back to a thick consciousness she is not particularly pleased to accept. Her head aches something fierce and she feels incredibly weak. Her wrists and ankles seem to be tightly restrained and that depresses her, too. Even as the moist washcloth is pulled along her brow, swept around her cheek and pulled under her chin and away, the young heroine tries to take stock of what has happened to her and where she is. When the cloth finally pulls away from her face, her glassy blue eyes search upward to see the face of an elderly Mob boss. What was his name again?

“...Lupenzo...” she murmurs.

“Supergirl. You remember me. Good. I was afraid I’d damaged you more than I intended.”

“Damaged me...jes’ enuff...” The blonde answers dully, pulling on her arms and legs to test the restraints. There’s no give on the legs whatsoever but her arms raise up with the clinking sound of metal on metal. Handcuffs. Looking down, she sees them through the glass table on which she lies, the cuffs securely fastened to the metal table legs. Feeling a small lump pressed between her breasts, Kara recalls the kryptonite pendant and groans softly in despair. She knows by the familiar sick feeling throughout her body that she doesn’t have any super strength to break the steel shackles, no heat vision to melt them, no powers she can call on whatsoever. She frowns deeply then spots a small red pile of silk lying directly underneath her head, right next to the hem of her cape that’s draped over the left edge of the table. Her mouth twists with a stabbing jolt of realization.

“My panties!” she blurts out, horrified.

“Precisely, Supergirl. So now that you realize your cunt and asshole are exposed and easily accessible,” gloats Don Lupenzo, “how do you feel about that, my dear? Are you deeply ashamed? Depressed? Frightened? Do you feel panicked and desperate? Maybe all of those and more?”

“Angry is more like it, you sick perv!” Truly, Supergirl’s anger brings her adrenalin up and her awareness to the forefront. “And when I break out of this little wet dream of yours, I assure you, you will feel my vengeance.”

“I doubt that, you stupid bitch, considering how defenseless you are. But right now, you’re going to feel my vengeance for what you did to my beautiful headquarters. And to start off, I’m going to conduct a little experiment on behalf of a friend. It’s something we both should enjoy, he promises me.”

Supergirl’s soft lips draw into a tight pink band. It was never a good thing when these bastards started yammering on and on about their clever little experiments. Without warning, she pulls up hard on the handcuffs, her elbows flying up with the effort she knows she must make. The cuffs clang against the underside of the metal supports on the two corners of the table but do not bend, even with all the strain the famous blonde champion is exerting on them. The small but potent kryptonite pendant nestled between her breasts for the past 45 minutes has, indeed done its job well, draining the famous Maid of Steel of every single bit of her super powers. The grimacing girl pulls and strains her arms and twists and yanks her wrists with every ounce of her willpower. Her cape flaps and shifts with the obvious effort. But it’s no good: the cuffs hold tight. Finally she relaxes her arms and slumps against the wide glass surface in glum defeat.

Above her, Gino Lupenzo’s look of concern turns to a grin of satisfaction. Once again, Luthor was right, the girl could not break out of her captivity. Excellent. He’d had his doubts but the bald genius had been true to his word.

“That was it? That was your big escape attempt, Supergirl? What an overblown gasbag you are, you pathetic twat,” Gino sneers. “You’re not going nowhere until I say you are. Now let’s see how this stuff works.”

Without warning, he stabs the blunt end of the aluminum bat he is holding with a brutal thrust into Supergirl’s lower back, right over her kidney. The Maid of Steel yelps in pain.

“AAIEEYAHH!”

A nasty follow-up backstroke to the back of the blonde heroine’s head knocks her silly.

“NUUGGHH!” Supergirl’s chin bangs against the glass top of the coffee table and her eyes glaze over in helpless befuddlement. The lids lower halfway as she moans aloud. “...uuuuhhhnn...”

Walking around to the head of the blonde champion, Don Lupenzo kneels directly in front of Supergirl’s dazed face, grasps her chin and smiles at her. “I’ve got a new lip gloss I think you’ll like, my young friend. It’s made especially for you.”

The pretty blue eyes of the young blonde champion simply stare vacantly at him.

“..whuhhhh?” There’s no understanding in those irises at the moment. Hope I didn’t hit her too hard. So difficult to know with this bitch..

Taking a small flat round tin from his jacket pocket, Don Lupenzo twists open the top and presses his fingertip deep into the bright orange paste within. Then, taking her jaw in his palm, Gino squeezes Supergirl’s cheeks until her lips pucker like a fish. He quickly and none too gently smooths the orange paste in a thick layer all around her mouth, coating her lips completely. Wide swaths of the bright glossy lipstick extend far past the edge of her lips, awkwardly coloring her mouth like a badly applied makeup job on some spinster. Don Lupenzo lets go of Supergirl’s cheeks and her head drops feebly to the table as he stands up.

The addled blonde champion moans softly, laying spreadeagled on the glass table in her famous costume. She is limp and weak. Her lips tingle and twitch like little bites are being taken all around the outside of her mouth. A sweet, powerful scent from the glossy orange paste on her lips drifts into her nostrils, making her nose twitch as well. Slowly, Supergirl opens her eyes with great effort only to see the old don squat before her and unzip his trousers.

“I’ve got a gift for you, Supergirl. Something that famous heroines like you can’t get enough of: a nice big penis for you to suck on.” The grinning don produces his member a mere foot away from the face of the famous red and blue clad heroine from Krypton. Her eyes grow wide as she sees the penis pulled out of the pants, like a magic trick.

She gazes at it wonderingly, confused and tired. Her head is throbbing thanks to the jolt from the bat and it’s spinning, too, from the sweet smell filling her nose. She can’t seem to gather her thoughts together. They drift like flotsam on an angry ocean.

Squatting in front of her, Don Lupenzo searches the unfocused blue eyes, waiting patiently like Luthor advised. After a silent 20 seconds of the nodding Maid of Steel staring lazily at the fleshy tool he’s slowly stroking before her, Gino waves the expanding wand gently under her nose.

“Looks good, doesn’t it, Supergirl,” he coaxes, “I mean, a cock like this is certainly something you wouldn’t mind putting your soft young mouth around, right?” His soothing voice sounds confident, friendly and quite reasonable.

Perplexed, somewhat hesitant and then, suddenly surprised, the dazed teenage heroine abruptly realizes that, yes, in fact it would be a pretty wonderful thing to be able to suck on this lovely male muscle stretching out before her. A true pleasure.

“...cock...” she murmurs with breathy anticipation, her lips thick with the warm orange paste. Looking up with dull, questioning eyes, “..for me...?...” she asks.

“Absolutely,” smiles Lupenzo. “Open wide for the big tasty penis.”

The beautiful teenage champion, the last Daughter of Krypton opens her mouth wide and closes her eyes in thrilled expectation of this delightful treat. “Mmmmhhh,” she murmurs before the rod even touches her lips, her face shining with eager anticipation, her head filled with the utter joy of the knowledge she’d be feeling a full hard shaft on her tongue, filling her mouth completely. She quivers heavily, a complete upper torso shimmy of sexual need.

From just above her head, the squatting Gino Lupenzo laughs out loud at the blatant sexual desire on display by the shapely blonde heroine sprawled before him. It had been so easy!

“Luthor promised me you’d be gobbling my cock like a true nympho slut,” exults Gino, “and here you are, ready, willing and able. He’s a fuckin’ genius, alright! Come and get it, Supergirl.”

Taken aback somewhat by the nastier tone from the voice overhead, the blonde girl’s eyes drowsily open up to stare at the cock before her. It truly was a thing of beauty to the famous heroine, her mind tainted by the powerful aphrodisiac that formed the basis of the glossy orange paste. But this aphrodisiac was far beyond any ordinary sexual stimulant. This formula included one very special active ingredient: semen from Superman himself. This tantalizing chemical additive is clearly having a profound affect on his addled cousin. Panting slightly, Supergirl studies the don’s wavering penis before her, it’s length well-engorged with the expectation of untold delights to come within the mouth of the famous Maid of Steel herself.

“...Luthor....promised....?...” Kara mumbles, her very essence longing to suck on this man’s penis, to savor its salty length on her curling, dripping tongue.

“That’s correct. So go for it, girlie!”

“...lex....luthor......promised...” Kara repeats herself. The halting speech from the young girl’s mouth literally drooling for cock fills Gino with a rush of sexual anticipation and his cock firms up all the more, further intoxicating the blonde beauty as its bulbous tip bobs inches from her face. The rate of her breathing increases even more as she contemplates the luxury of that member in her mouth. But then a faded memory kicks in.

“...but....Kal-El....he’s....holding....him.....”

“Who,” snaps Gino, annoyed by this new delay.

“...su...superman... my....cuzzin...” Her rapid breathing is bringing added blood and oxygen to her brain and with it, a steadily growing awareness of her situation.

“Yeah, so?”

“....won’t.....”

“Won’t what, Supergirl?” Gino’s erection bobs angrily before her face but her resistance continues to build despite the lure..

“...won’t do...it....” She utters softly, reluctantly, eyeing the bobbing penis and sighing with a final twinge of longing.

“What won’t you do, you pathetic crack whore?” Gino is startled at what this cunt is saying. His angry cursing blasts the final wisp of sexual desire out of Supergirl’s thoughts.


“ I. Won’t. Suck. Your. Penis!” Supergirl spells it slowly out for him. Her eyelids pull up as she finally recovers from the blow to her head, the sickeningly sweet scent and the relentless pull of the aphrodisiac smeared all over her lips. In fact, thinking quickly, Supergirl bends her head and smears her mouth all over the glass table top, coating the hard clear surface with a slimy streak of orange paste. She has rubbed the majority of it onto the table with this one sudden move.

“Why the fuck won’t you suck my prick, bitch?” Gino grabs the chin of the teenager bound to the table before him, his face red with anger while hers is a study in grim determination. It’s taken every ounce of willpower she has to fight the powerful draw of that cock hanging before her but she’s done it. She’s beaten Lex Luthor at his own game.

“Blame your friend Lex, Lupenzo,” Kara spits. “I won’t give Luthor the satisfaction of any such victory.”

“Really?” Gino continues to hold Supergirl’s chin in his palm, he twists it slowly left to right, looking at the steely gaze returning from her bright blue eyes. “Fine, guess it’s better to find out now than before you had my cock in your mouth, huh, sweet cheeks?”

Supergirl mentally lashes herself. Hell, she could have bit his dumb cock off if she’d planned it right. Well, the satisfaction of having resisted will have to be enough for now.

“Well, I’ll have to tell Lex that his lip gloss was a failure,” Gino drawls, releasing Supergirl’s chin, packing his junk back in his pants and standing up straight. “I just hope he takes the news well and doesn’t, you know, take out his anger on your cousin Superman.”

Kara’s mouth turns to a heavy frown at this distressing thought. Could she have played her hand any better. Probably, but the knock to her head had really rattled her brain. She was lucky to have resisted at all. But now what?

Don Lupenzo walks around behind the tightly restrained superheroine and smiles broadly. So Luthor’s experiment failed, why the fuck should he care? He still had this babe stretched out before him. Her luscious body was securely bound, her cape draped limply off to the side, her long blonde hair splayed across her shoulders in disarray. This super bitch was helpless to defend herself. Her cunt was just waiting to be oiled up and fucked. He, Gino Lupenzo, was about to bone the famous Supergirl and she couldn’t do squat to prevent it.

“Fine, since you refuse to suck my cock then I’ll have to be satisfied with giving you a thorough fucking, Supergirl.” He admires how her shapely young ass curves the material of her short silky red skirt into a perfect pair of rounded bumps.

“Gino, listen to me. If you do this, there’s no going back.” Supergirl speaks boldly, calmly, determinedly to the mob boss, turning her head to send the glaring truth at him, to stare into his eyes and show him his error. Ignoring her words, the mob boss stands behind the famous blonde champion obviously savoring her body.

“Look at me, Gino,” Supergirl snaps and the mob boss does meet her gaze. “When I escape...and somehow I will...you will be thrown into jail for so long, you’ll probably die there. Is that what you want? Because that’s the path you’re taking if you don’t let me go.”

“Big talk for a crack whore who’s tied up with no means of escape,” replies Lupenzo, now returning the earnest, beseeching look with a contemptuous sneer. “Admit it, cunt. I outsmarted you, I beat you senseless and now you’re just trying to save that gorgeous ass of yours.”

“I’m trying to save you from what will be a life sentence, Gino,” the Maid of Steel’s voice is soft yet adamant. “You’re smarter than this, I know. Don’t let your passions rule your intellect, Don Lupenzo. If you let me go I give you my promise that you’ll have a year to clean up your act and go straight. You’re a capable businessman who can do some good with his life. You don’t have to waste it in some antiquated brotherhood who’s sole purpose is to make profits off people’s weaknesses.” Supergirl argument is heartfelt, her conviction real.

“Weakness like crack you mean, Supergirl. Like your own pathetic habit.” Gino meets the blonde’s gaze with his own imperious look.

“Fine! Yes, like crack. But I was forced into this addiction. It’s...it’s...different. It...wasn’t my choice.”

“You had the choice to leave, to fly away with your nasty mission completed, my dear. Yet you willingly chose to stick around for a hit of crack. That tells me that you actually wanted to be caught, Supergirl. You feel a deep need to be punished for your crack habit. Admit it.”

Kara didn’t want to get into an emotional debate about her weaknesses. She felt more tired and feeble every passing minute from the kryptonite pendant glowing under her blouse. She wasn’t thinking all that clearly as a thin wave of radiation poisoning gets the better of her. Its all she can do to try and continue to meet Lupenzo’s own firm stare, to keep her head up and face him down.

“...i..don’t..agree,” she replies. “Certainly no woman...wants to punish herself with...rape.”

“Who said anything about rape?” Gino looks insulted. “You’ll be an eager player in our lovemaking, my dear.”

“...non-consensual...sex...is rape...” Supergirl mumbles. “I’m not...agreeing to...any sex with you....now or...ever.”

“Ever is a long time, Supergirl. Let’s just see how it goes, eh?” Don Lupenzo smiles wolfishly then suddenly turns away to head through the archway. He disappears around the corner into another room somewhere.

Supergirl lays her head on her shoulder and closes her eyes, trying to summon up strength that just isn’t there! She is mentally and physically spent. There’s no refreshing spring of willpower left to fight with. No calm inner voice. No welling of hope within her. No plan to follow. The fact is, she didn’t know how long she had been unconscious but frankly, the dominant thing on her mind is how nice it would be to actually have another hit of crack right now.

And there was bitter truth facing her dead on! She couldn’t control herself anymore. She truly was a crack addict. Pure and simple. If this bastard waited long enough, when he finally offered her crack for sex, she’d probably do it. Probably? Who was she kidding? She’d suck his penis, sit on his face or let him violate her ass for the very promise of a hit of crack. The cold realization of this fills the blonde teen’s eyes with tears that flow heavily down her cheeks and onto the blue shoulder of her tunic.

I’m a failure as a heroine. I’ve lost all my pride, my honor, my dignity. Everything I stood for. I’m a joke. I came here as Tony’s muscle and couldn’t even do that right. Maybe Lupenzo’s right. Maybe I do need to be punished, to be raped. Or maybe I’ll just go along with anything he asks or does. Why not? It’s not like Supergirl stands for anything anymore anyway! Hell I haven’t stood for anything for months!

When a smiling Gino Lupenzo returns to the study where Supergirl is stretched out on the coffee table, he is carrying a large tin of olive oil. The moment he enters he hears her sobbing quietly, sees her cheek pressed to the table, notices her tears mixing with the orange paste she’s smeared there in defiance not ten minutes ago. Her muscle tone is slack and her pert rear end trembles gently as she weeps.

“What happened here,” Lupenzo asks setting down the olive oil container on the carpet.

“Just a little...pity party,” she murmurs softly, staring off into the distance.

“Looks like you could use a mood enhancer, Supergirl,” Gino says brightly standing behind her.

“Like crack, you mean.”

“Well, it is your drug of choice,” he replies confidently.

“What would I have to do?” The flat tone of voice surprises Gino. The bitch had been pretty fiery not three minutes ago. Was she bipolar, he wondered.

“Anything I ask,” he says with a heavy bluff, figuring to negotiate from strength like the power mogul he was.

“Fine,” the famous heroine says with no emotion at all. “Give me the crack.”

Fine? This bitch is agreeing to any sex act I choose, just like that? Gino is stunned but recovers quickly, hiding his delight with a stern voice. “Afterwards, sweetheart. That’s how it works.”

“Not with me. I get it beforehand,” Supergirl states, still no inflection whatsoever in her voice. “But don’t worry, I’m told I usually put out...and do it in all the ways that you bastards seem to like!”

“I’ll get the pipe,” Gino says, walking over to the small bar where he’d placed it for safekeeping. What was the down side here? Not much that he could figure.

“Double me up, Gino. I don’t want to think about anything but the sex.”

“My pleasure, Supergirl. Your wish is my command.” He adds a second pebble to the pipe bowl.

“And vice versa,” the blonde teen says, the voice flat as a mathematician’s plane.

“I’m still going to have to keep you tied up, missy. I don’t trust you.” Gino walks over with the pipe and squats down in front of Supergirl, the pipe raised to her mouth.

“Whatever turns you on, Gino,” she replies, craning her head forward to take the glass tube between her supple lips. “Light me up.”

The feeling was like a familiar warm welcome home. Supergirl’s long exhale of bluish smoke streams out of her mouth and her lips twist into that addict’s stupid grin of mindless pleasure as she watches the cloud disperse before her.

“You having any?” Supergirl looks into Gino’s eyes. His head is craned back, away from the slowly dissipating cloud of crack smoke that Supergirl had exhaled. He wanted to savor this conquest in all its glory and not forget about it due to a failed memory because of the crack. All the mobster sees as he looks back at the blonde teenager are tired blue irises that are devoid of all hope. It’s disconcerting but just what he wants nevertheless.

“No, I don’t partake of this drug, my dear. But take another hit. I’m pleased to share.”

“..’kay....” The blonde says and draws on the pipe until the bowl glows and crackles softly.

Mere seconds after the second toke came the rush. Supergirl’s forehead bumps softly against the glass table as the crack high fills the blonde beauty’s mind with a glow of complete satisfaction that makes her body quiver on the table with involuntary joy.

“Mmmmmmhhhhh!” The Maid of Steel is high as a kite, lying prone on the glass table before Don Lupenzo in complete oblivion as she thrills to the cloud of pleasure on which she drifts. “...gooood....” she breathes out. It’s the same highly potent crack she had before on the couch. It numbs her mind like a mallet to the forehead.

“And its only going to get better, my lovely young toy,” beams the pleased Don. He walks around behind Supergirl, leans over and picks up the tin of olive oil. After unscrewing the top, Gino then squats down beside the purring teenager hero. He carefully tips the cannister slowly until a thin pale green line of olive oil spills from the lip of the tin container onto the back of Supergirl’s skirt. Drizzling the oil over the bright red fabric with a casual back and forth motion, Lupenzo drips enough oil to create a small puddle in the crease of the blonde’s butt cheeks as well as a wavy line of it down the back of her thighs.

“...whazzat...” she mumbles.

“Just a little homemade lubricant from my great grandfather’s estate in Italy.” Gino jokes as he caps the tin of olive oil, screwing it tightly shut. The aluminum side pops with a soft “dink” as he sets it back on the carpet.

“...granfadder into sex aids...?...” Supergirl murmurs softly, her brain stunted by the dope.

“Not knowingly. At least I don’t think so. Never know about that older generation and sex though. Everything in the bedroom was a state secret back then. Still, they produced plenty of kids so there was certainly plenty of fuckin’ goin’ on.”

“...yuh...” is the doped champion’s only reply.

On his knees behind her now, with both palms on her ass, Don Lupenzo leans forward slowly to massage the fragrant oil all over and around Supergirl’s costume skirt. He kneads the butt cheeks beneath the thin cloth, coating the silky fabric with a shiny, slippery film that soaks through the skirt and accentuates every dimple, every sexy curve of the famous teen hero’s ass.

“...mmmhh....nice....” Supergirl says with a whisper of breath. She rests easily on the glass table without any protest whatsoever while the grinning old don squeezes and fondles her butt with impunity. Once, she would have crushed the old mafia don’s bones in his hands to chalky dust for the disrespect of even a grazing touch of her rear. Now the world-famous Champion of Might allows Gino’s hands to circle her rear over and over, completely covering the heavily doped teen’s ass in slippery olive oil. There’s no troubled hint of dismay, no glancing thought of shame. Gino is incredulous but delighted.

“Think that feels good, Supergirl? How about this?” Gino peels back the drenched, slippery red skirt until it slops in a heap over her lower back, revealing her beautiful naked ass. There’s still no complaint. No whining anxiety. Supergirl lies on the table in a fog of crack pleasure quietly reveling in the steady cycling sensation of the drug.

The thrilled mob boss begins to slowly smooth his palms all over the blonde’s exposed cheeks, smearing the oil in wide circles across, around and into the cute rounded glutes until Supergirl’s pale white rear end gleams brightly in the glow of the overhead track lights. Even when his thumbs dip between her thighs and tickle near her exposed pussy while his palms squeeze and massage her buttocks, the young blonde heroine says nothing, does nothing. Her thighs merely twitch in pleasured response.

With her tight teenage rear end completely glazed in olive oil, Gino then moves his palms slowly down along the back of Supergirl’s thighs, coating them with a thin layer of slickness that finally causes the famous blonde heroine to jerk with tickled excitement.

“Ahh!” She yips, her head pulling up with joy, her body twitching and wriggling with delight. “...very sexy...” she murmurs, lowering her head back to the table to savor the sensations the mobster is providing..

Gino’s deft hands continue their work, spreading the slick oil all the way down the stretched expanse of the blonde champion’s spreadeagled legs to her knees. His hands circle around them slowly, coating their rounded shapes with a glistening film of greasy oil. Then the hands slide down to the girl’s calves as she softly sighs. Don Lupenzo kneads them skillfully, smoothing down the tight muscles just above the tops of her shiny red boots with his firm thumbs, relaxing the tension until the powerful muscles are slack and slippery, fully relaxed and well-oiled up.

“...mmmm....you’re....good....” mumbles the Maid of Steel, limp with pleasure, stupefied by crack.

Gino’s hands now move back to Supergirl’s upper thighs. Using firm pressure, active thumbs and strong hands, he kneads the powerful muscles. Sure-handed palms slide along the slippery expanse of flesh, spreading relaxation as they go. A small silvery line of drool eases out of Supergirl’s mouth and drips onto the glass surface of the table.

“...nice...”

“There’s more,” Gino replies as he reaches behind to pick up the tin of olive oil. He unscrews it, pours a generous puddle of it into his cupped left palm, sets down the tin and twists the cap closed with his right hand as his left steadily holds the oil. Only a tiny few drips slide down his wrist and escape onto the carpet. Cautiously leaning forward, Gino takes a clump of Supergirl’s cape that’s secured to her collar and pulls up on it.

“Get up on your forearms, missy. I’m not young enough to hold you up very long.”

The dazed blonde obligingly raises her upper torso half a foot off the table and Gino slides his left hand beneath her. Carefully, he cups his palm under Supergirl’s left breast and guides the slack-jawed teen, using his hand in the middle of her back, to lower her upper body just a bit until just the rounded tip of her breast is immersed in the light green oil puddled there in his hand. He then pulls on her collar again.

“Upsie daisy,” he commands and Supergirl slavishly raises her body back up until Gino pats her back to indicate she should lower down again. She does this until her right breast dips into his extended palm, anointing that tit in what remains of the puddled oil. The palm closes around the firm breast and smears the viscous liquid all over the dangling round shape, massaging the squishy flesh and working the oil deep into the silky thin material.

“...ohhhhh...” moans the erotically-charged teen as her chest is thoroughly lubricated with olive oil. The sensations are obviously arousing Supergirl because Gino feels the nipple in his hand stiffen and press into his palm as he slowly and continuously fondles the right tit of the famous Maid of Steel. A long, stuttering “..ah..ah...ahhhhhhhh,” bubbles from Supergirl’s moist lips which she then rapidly licks them in erotic excitation.

Still gripping the heroine’s collar with his right hand while the doped blonde props herself off the tabletop with her forearms, Gino’s left hand goes on the move. He releases the jiggling mound of feminine flesh and slides his palm slowly and indecently across the famous emblem at the center of the world-renowned tunic. This tracks a wide, oily smear across the famous diamond-shaped “S” there, fouling the logo with an obvious, greasy palm print in the process. Supergirl is completely oblivious of the humiliating desecration of her famous insignia, exulting only in the thrilling sensation as Gino now palms her left breast and fondles that one with slow, circling caresses.

“...uuuuhhhhmmm...” The teenage nymphet utters another delighted moan as Gino works the slippery oil into that side of her tunic until an aroused nipple pokes once again into his palm. And with the famous costume top now inundated with pungent olive oil, the thin fabric not only displays the hard nipples so obviously tenting through the material but the entire breasts themselves.

Glazed with a sopping coat of oil, the tight costume blouse has attained a measure of transparency that leaves nothing to the imagination regarding the shape, firmness and excited nature of Supergirl’s tits as they wobble beneath her. With the fabric clinging to their ample round curves, the teen’s tits shimmy within the tunic in bobbling, wondrous glory. Even the shape and size of Supergirl’s sexy aureolas can be clearly seen through the now glistening blouse.

The addled blonde’s body trembles mindlessly in Gino’s control, suspended a foot over the table by her forearms. Drool from her slack mouth drains in a line onto the table below as she now loudly moans in obvious pleasure as Don Lupenzo continues to fondle, squeeze and caress her bobbling breasts.

“...ohhh....ahhhhh.....ooooooohhhh...” Every circling pass of his palm draws a delighted sigh of pleasure from the glistening pink lips of the drugged Maid of Steel. It’s eight minutes into the double dose of crack and the illustrious Supergirl is still whacked out of her mind.

Indeed, if Supergirl could see what she looked like at this moment, she’d never be able to look at herself in a mirror again. She’s a world-famous heroine whose skin and costume have been obscenely lubricated with an oily sheen that emphasizes in lurid detail every feature of her tight young body from her gorgeous ass to her ample tits. And, on top of that, the doped blonde moans in mumbled delight as Gino continues to caress and arouse her to new heights of pleasure. Supergirl’s inner slut is finding her husky, needful voice.

For once, however, there are no cameras to capture her disgrace. Only the glinting eyes of a thrilled but heavily breathing Don Lupenzo are there to record the humiliation. Of course he will tell this story as often as anyone will listen before his days are done. Tired but pleased with how he’s handled this super bitch, Gino finally presses down on the slippery blonde’s back and she sags compliantly onto the table. The old mob boss then stands up and goes to the bar to get a stiff drink. Oiling up the Maid of Steel is thirsty work.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Used, Confused And Totally Abused
Part 57-B



“Good afternoon, Wonder Woman. How was your day, sweetheart,” Tony swirls the ice in his scotch as he eyes the Amazon beauty with satisfaction the moment she steps out of the elevator into the living room of the penthouse suite in the Pleasure Dome. She was a mess, her hair an untidy mop, her uniform stained with white streaks of cum. Even the very way she walks across the carpet is stilted as if she had a pole up her ass. He smiles broadly at the Amazon, his eyebrows raised.

Wonder Woman had been stealthily ushered in through the garage by the trio of hoodlums that had taken her out of the Room of Shame. Now the weary Diana looks at Tony with quiet exhaustion, shaking her head.

“I think you know what my day was like since you probably planned it down to the last detail, Mr. Bonano.”

“Me? Why, I was just pleased I was able to turn the screws on a few of my Arabic dealers so I could find out where the terrorists were in time to get you out of their hands and into the safety of your lovely quarters here.”

“Those thugs were no more terrorists than Bozo the Clown. Do you really believe you’re fooling anybody, Tony?”

“Let’s just call it plausible deniability, Princess, and leave it at that. Thank you fellas,” he says to the trio. “See Carmine on the way out for your pay. You guys did great!” The trio gets back into the elevator, thrilled with the promise of being handed $20,000 each in the next ten minutes.

“Yeah great...for murderers,” mumbles Wonder Woman as she sinks down on the soft leather sofa, her head craning back onto the top of the plush back cushion. She lets out a long breath of air, too tired right now to even consider making the effort to shower even though she feels as soiled as a used tampon.

“I gotta say, I’m pretty worried about your friend Kara, Diana,” Tony declares, sitting down besides Diana on the couch. He wrinkles his nose at the raunchy smell of her and stands up immediately to take an armchair opposite her. If Diana notices this small slight of her, she makes no mention of it. “I certainly expected her to return by now,” adds Tony. I’ve got a bad feeling that something went wrong in her little chore.”

“What kind of chore would that be....sucking another john’s penis for your profit?” Diana’s head lolls against the top of the sofa cushion, her eyes fixed on the decorative panels in the ceiling. She is trying to relax her body which is knotted all over by tension.

“Not at all. That was supposed to be tonight anyway. No, I sent Supergirl on a little mission while you were entertaining those terrorists so enthusiastically.”

“To do what?”

“To take out Don Lupenzo.”

Diana lifts her head and eyes Tony with disdain. “Kara wouldn’t agree to killing anyone, Tony. Even for crack, she’d draw the line. I can’t believe you were stupid enough to even ask her.”

“You should please to watch your tone, Princess,” Sergei says as he walks into the living room from the hallway. He is wiping his hands on a face towel from the bathroom. Diana snaps her head around to see the big blonde Russian walking across the carpet directly toward her. She goes white and begins to stammer badly.

“....i...i....i...did....didn’t....mean....anything by it....tony. I’m sorry. So sorry...” Diana quickly rises from the sofa in nervous self defense as Sergei comes to within three feet of her. Adrenaline is pumping through her body in a flush of energy. She stands sideways even as Sergei feints a punch to her face. Diana’s forearm flashes upward to block the blow, only to have Sergei snap the towel briskly against her tush. He gives her a wide smile and turns around to head to the kitchen for a drink. Diana just stands there shaking with nerves.

“Cut the clowning, Sergei, we’ve got serious planning to do here,” Tony snaps.

“Sorry, Tony. I was just trying to lighten the mood.” The Russian mobster, still grinning, raises his eyebrows at Wonder Woman and gives a chuckle. “Our beautiful Amazon did herself proud today. I was simply being playful, Diana. I’m sorry if I made you wet yourself.” The Russian laughs heartily and then takes a swig from a can of CocaCola.

“Bastard,” chokes out Diana softly as she sinks back onto the couch, physically and mentally exhausted.

“Bitch,” Sergei responds with a smile, enjoying his small victory over the Amazon cow.

“Knock it off, you two. We have planning to do here.” Flipping open his cell phone, Tony dials Carmine’s number. “Carm. Come up to the penthouse, we need to have a meeting about our young blonde friend. No she hasn’t returned yet. That’s why we’re having the meeting, big guy. Just get up here. Okay.”

Snapping the phone shut, Tony walks over to the refrigerator and grabs a Coke for himself as well.

“Diana, you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll have a Diet Coke, thank you.”

“Carmine will be up in a few minutes, soon as he’s done paying the fellas. When he gets here, we’re going to put our heads together and try to figure out how to rescue Supergirl.”

Diana lets out a another long sigh. This was going to be one of the longest days of her life, she realized. And her stamina was at rock bottom at the moment. And beside all that, she was feeling the need for heroin slowly rear its ugly head. A long day indeed.





* * *



Supergirl’s mouth drops open with a breathy gasp of delight as Don Lupenzo slowly rotates his forefinger deeply within her well-oiled asshole.

“Ahhh!”

Kneeling on the glass coffee table within the gap of her widely-spread legs, the grinning don is now wearing only white boxer shorts. He continues to twist his wrist, this time rotating his finger in the opposite direction, provoking a small quiver of pleasure that has Supergirl grinding her teenage tush against his finger in response.

“Ooohhhh....that’s good....very....good,” she purrs. Gino continues his rotating finger routine within the girl’s oiled and accommodating rear for a full minute as the renowned champion’s breathing picks up its pace. When he thinks he’s done enough of that, Gino then begins to saw the slippery digit in and out of the tight rectum in a series of slow, repetitive strokes that draws a stuttering moan from the blonde teenager.

“...ah..ha..ah...ha...ahhhhhhh....” Her knees thump involuntarily against the thick glass as the crack-enhanced pleasure sweeps through her body.

“Man, you sure do get off on ass sex, Supergirl. I never would have thought a proper young heroine like you would be so hot for a nasty butt jamming session like this. I gotta say, your crass sexual habits shock me, girl. But maybe they shouldn’t. You are a crack whore after all.”

“...it just..(hah)....feels great...(hah)....” Supergirl replies between pants as she closes her eyes and concentrates on the sensations created by Gino’s stiff finger repeatedly stroking in and out of her rectum.

And then, it’s not just Gino’s forefinger in her butt that’s making her wriggle with pleasure. His other hand gets busy at the front of her crotch, with his thumb circling her clit while his index finger twiddles deep within her twat.

“OHHH! Yess....wond’rful...yesss....ohhhh....” Supergirl is beginning to sweat from a combination of being underneath the bright track lights, the cloying oil saturating her skin and Gino’s slow, insistent fingerplay.

“I’m glad I can give you pleasure, my dear,” Gino says, kneeling behind her on the carpet as he continues to slowly stroke and caress the trembling body before him. “Lord knows I’ll be taking plenty from you before this night is over. As will my many associates.”

If this glimpse into her near future registers with Supergirl, she doesn’t show it in any way. She’s too wrapped up in the intense, crack-heightened sensations coursing through her body as Gino keeps the finger work going for a good five minutes.

“...ohh....yes...ahhhh...now deeper in my butt....faster against my clitoris. No...faster, Gino....come on...get it going....” After several minutes of trying to direct Gino’s technique, Supergirl lets out a small keening whine of frustrated passion. The wriggling blonde unsuccessfully pulls on the handcuffs yet again with a clank of metal. Unable to use her hands to assist in her own stimulation and bring herself to an orgasm, the young teenager is now getting annoyed with Gino’s methods. He is too slow, there’s not enough heated friction due to the oil and his pacing. Plus, he’s yet to use his penis. He’s working her up but she’s not getting near enough to any significant sexual release. By now, her crack high is completely gone so it’s only the sex itself that’s getting her aroused.

But then, with his hands working a bit quicker within her orifices, Kara begins to feel a stronger surge of pleasure from his rubbing manipulation of her clit and ass.

“...now...you’re getting it...” she says encouragingly. But the irritating man suddenly stops his caressing fingers and lets Kara stew in her own juices for a bit.

“What are you doing,” she scolds after tens seconds of silence. “Why did you stop?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was getting nicely worked up and you just stopped. Why?”

“My fingers got a little tired. That’s all.”

“Well, I’m getting pretty hot over here and your stopping is making me frustrated.”

“Gosh, that’s a shame. Let me see what I can do about that, my dear,” the old don says, smiling widely behind the unseeing heroine’s back. He was going to have her begging for him to slide his cock into her damp pussy before he was done here.

Don Lupenzo hikes up the waistband of his boxers a bit, climbs onto the table and lies on top of the famous heroine. He pulls his rock-hard penis out of the fly of his boxers and positions it deep between the teenager’s oiled buttocks. There’s no penetration, just warm girlish ass cheeks squeezing the full length of his cock. Next, the mob boss reaches around underneath Supergirl’s body, slides his hands under her shirt, pushes aside the dangling kryptonite pendant and takes hold of both breasts, one in each of his strong hands. He slowly begins to fondle her tits as he slides his prick up and down between her cheeks.

“Now we’re talking.” Supergirl rejoices at the change in tactics. She is delighted with the feel of the man laying on top of her, his warm penis rubbing between her cheeks, the slap of his balls against her pussy, his hands fondling her slippery tits and tweaking her nipples. Her oily figure writhes in pleasure beneath him, smearing the pale green lubricant all over his shorts, his legs and some of his chest. The slippery channel of her butt coats his prick and sends an erotic tingle through the mob boss’ body.

“I took a double dose of Viagra just for you, Supergirl. 100 milligrams will ensure we have a nice long time to fuck!”

“That’s what I’m here for, Gino,” she answers huskily. She shakes her ass to feel the penis between her cheeks. It’s enjoyable but not quite stimulating enough. “Hey, any chance I can get another hit on the crack? I’m kinda coming down. I am down, actually.”

Immediately Gino stops all movement. His hands merely hold Supergirl’s breasts in place, his dick ceases its stroking.

“Maybe a little later. Right now, I’m enjoying this great cock polishing I’m getting from the famous Buns of Steel. Now shake these luscious butt cheeks of yours, Supergirl. I want to feel the vibrations all the way to my balls.”

The blonde teen complies immediately, rapidly twisting her hips left and right so her buttocks rock in place like matching Jello molds.

“That’s a good girl,” praises Gino with a condescending tone that annoys Kara to no end. The famous heroine tries to glean a little extra stimulation from friction with the body lying on top of her, by rocking her figure back and forth against the old don but there’s precious little stimulation there without any crack to intensify things. Kara had agreed to this but she was starting to not even enjoy the sex much. This bastard didn’t know shit about making love or building momentum or even using his penis, it seemed.

“You can...you know...put your penis in me now, Gino, if you want,” whimpers a frustrated Supergirl.

“I’m well aware of that, Supergirl.”

“I...mean, I’m.... ready for you. I’m....i’m...wet...” she says with a hesitant pause., a fleeting sense of shame brings a blush to her cheeks. There’s no crack to lower her inhibitions. She is craving a mind-blowing sexual release and she’s not even close right now.

“Yes, I can read your body’s signals quite well. I’m just not ready yet. I can get harder.”

“Let me help you with that. Take off the handcuffs at least and let me get a nice sheen of oil on that pecker so we can move onto the big nasty. What do you say,”

“Not a chance.”

“But it’s not fair,” whines the petulant blonde. “I’m just trying to help. Guys your age, you know, can....use the assistance of a girl’s talents. Come on, Gino. Just remove the handcuffs so I can give you a nice handjob.”

“Nope. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you, Supergirl. I’ll tickle your nipples.”

“But that’s not going to be enough,” the frowning girl says testily.

“Okay, fine, you can suck on my finger at the same time. That ought to be good for something.”

Gino’s left hand pulls out from under Supergirl’s blouse and comes up in front of her mouth. His right hand goes from a full palming breast hold to a light circling of the nipple on the Maid of Steel’s right breast. There’s a touch of pleasure there but not enough to work Supergirl up to any kind of new plateau.

“Come on, girlie. Suck on my finger. It’ll be good for us both.”

“I really don’t want to, Gino.”

“This ain’t about what you want, Supergirl, in case you forgot. You want me to knock you around with my aluminum bat again.”

“What? No...please...don’t.....I...look, I’m sucking. I’m thucking on yur fhingah...” With a slow, erotic push and pull of her wet lips, the Maid of Steel begins sucking away at the don’s forefinger as commanded. In the meantime, the hand under the teen’s blouse continues to tickle and flick at Supergirl’s right nipple until its sensitized enough to create some tiny shivers of pleasure.

“There, see. I told you you’d enjoy this combo, Supergirl,” Gino’s condescension builds a slow anger in the blonde champion that she has to remind herself not to bite the bastard’s digit right off his hand. In the meantime, his hand continues to work the girl’s nip steadily and productively. When he gently twists the pink bud between his oily fingers, it gets the Maid of Steel squirming as her pleasure finally starts to build. Taking his hand away momentarily, Gino sees the hard swollen nub trying to poke a hole in the slippery fabric covering it.

“Mmmmhh...beddah...” grunts Supergirl, her mouth pulling fiercely on his finger all the way to his second knuckle. In and out. In and out. The shiny digit appears and disappears inside the eager face of the famous girl from Krypton.

Gino switches to her other nipple now, giving it the same unrelenting attention he’d provided its mate: the slow slippery circling around the aureola, the flicking fingernail, the steady gentle nipple twisting back and forth between oily forefinger and thumb. It all works together to get Supergirl moaning again as she writhes on the table under the weight of her captor. She feels his hot pulsing rod still resting between her ass cheeks but it’s not moving in the least. Nevertheless, Supergirl’s mouth is now eagerly sucking away at two fingers on the mobster’s left hand like a common alley whore on a sailor’s joint.

“That feels great, my dear. And as a reward, I’m going to polish your clit for you.”

“..hank...ooh...” she replies, busy with her mouth and starting to enjoy the oral satisfaction.

When the oily fingers of Gino’s right hand swirl around the nub of the blonde heroine’s clitoris, it’s like an electric charge straight to Supergirl’s brain.

“AAHH!” She gasps. Her head jerks back and her mouth releases Gino’s fingers in a moment of uncontrolled delight. The tightly bound blonde is ecstatic with this long lost pleasure she so desperately needs.

“Missed this did you?” Don Lupenzo snickers loudly.

“Yes! More. Faster. Please. Faster.”

But Gino’s hand slows instead, barely touching Supergirl’s swollen love button that’s extended out of its protective hood. Every so often he touches the clit with a grazing pass of his fingertip but it doesn’t last long. His left hand, no longer held in Supergirl’s mouth joins in the fun, though. Swiping his hand among the oil-drenched folds of the skirt heaped up over the Maid of Steel’s waist, Gino gets a thick coating of olive oil on his fingers and brings them down to the teen’s butthole. Circling the spot between her cheeks with a quick swipe, the old don thrusts his index finger deep into Supergirl’s ass and circles it slowly around her anal cavity.

“RAO, That’s sweet!” Please, keep going...” Heavily panting, Supergirl’s eyes begin to glaze over as she enjoys the stimulation she so urgently craves. As Gino’s fingers work their slow, steady magic on her pussy and rear, Kara’s libido kicks into overdrive. Her eyelids slide down and a dreamy expression of unbridled lust turns the famous heroine’s face from coy ingénue to randy skank in the blink of an eye.

“...we’re...getting there...” she moans. “...closer...and closer...” Her body is quivering as the pressure of her pleasure builds to a formidable wave she longs to have sweep over her and carry her away. “...yes...yes....yes....NO!”

Gino’s hands withdraw from her crotch completely. And he sits up on his haunches, his dick dangling inches away now as the famous teen hero whimpers and cries beneath him.

“WHY DO YOU KEEP STOPPING!!!” Supergirl is openly sobbing in frustration. “WH...WHAT...DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

Gino walks around the cocktail table to look at Supergirl’s face. The small amount of eyeliner she’s wearing is running down her cheeks in dark streaks. There are now pockets under her eyes that are tinged green from the steady radiation of the omnipresent kryptonite pendant. Her quivering lips are pulled back into a desperate grimace of total frustration. Her sweating hair is plastered against her forehead and her rapidly blinking eyes look up at him in misery. The mighty Maid of Steel is sick, strained to her limits and sweating from radiation fever and a libido on the knife edge of helpless arousal without relief. Precisely the way he wanted the bitch.

“WHAT THE HELL IS IT YOU WANT, GINO?” Supergirl repeats the question with a choking sob. “Tell me and I’ll do it. Anything. Please tell me. PLEASE!!!”

“You’re not too proud to suck my cock now, are you, Supergirl,” Gino asks in a quiet voice, looking down at the pathetic figure trussed onto the glass platform before him.

“Absolutely not too proud! I will do that. Right now. Give it to me. Put it in my mouth!” The desperate, frenzied Supergirl opens wide, her tongue wiggling back and forth obscenely. “Let me lick your prick.”

“Or...how about a nice ass buggering,” Gino suggests, circling back around the crazed blonde. “You good with that?”

“I’m all yours. Sodomize me,” the nodding blonde answers without pause. “Shove it in as deep as you want. 8 inches, 10 inches, it doesn’t matter. I’m ready for you.”

Gino squats down behind the fawning, trembling heroine and lets his finger drift lazily down the crack of her butt. It slowly slides over Kara’s butthole and then deeper into the depths of her thighs where it slips between her labia and smooths lazily over her pink nether lips. This keeps Supergirl on the fine edge of total sexual frustration. She’s close but then the finger stops and she gulps in air angrily.

“Maybe an old fashioned gangbang is called for here,” Lupenzo says. “Satisfaction from a whole crew of my men. Sound good to you, champ?”

“Like heaven! Are they here in the building? How many do I get?”

“They’re not all here just yet, so you’ll have to wait for that. In the meantime, why don’t I just stick my nice hard cock deep into your damp skank hole? That alright with you?” The finger rubs her pussy lips in slow-motion that’s nothing short of torture to the superheroine.

“Oh, Rao, yes!! Yes, please do that. Please fuck me, Gino,” Supergirl’s voice quavers in desperation as the fingers circle and stop, circle and stop. The blonde beauty yanks all her appendages like some wild animal. The handcuffs jangle, the ropes around her boots squeak and the glass table shakes with her yanking, heaving need. To no avail. When she exhausts herself, Supergirl slumps against the table whimpering like a toddler. “I want your cock in me, Don Lupenzo. I need it desperately. Please, have mercy!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely and so properly, how can I refuse you, Supergirl?”

Kneeling on the glass table behind the blonde beauty once again, Gino Lupenzo puts his arm around her waist, pulls his cock out from the fly in his boxers, positions it at the entrance to her heavenly treasures and easily slides his rock-hard prick into Supergirl’s slippery vagina without a hint of resistance, either physical or mental. He buries himself to the hilt, his balls slapping softly against her crotch.

“...ooohhhhhhh.....at last....” Kara squeezes her love channel around the warm hard pole like a hug from a long lost friend. She luxuriates in the sensation of the invasion she could no longer resist, savoring the pleasing length and heat of the mighty invader with a rapid flicker of her bright blue eyes. “That’s...whut....I needed....” she sighs.

Behind her, Gino is beaming with pleasure. He was fucking the famous Supergirl and her twat was nice and tight, slippery and oh so accommodating. Exactly as he liked them, and exactly the way he engineered it. In fact, the world’s once strongest girl is so eager to please that she begins to rock her pelvis back and forth in slow repetitive movements that serve to stroke Gino’s love muscle back and forth with her wet feminine muff. And both of them shudder with delight at this.

“Uunhhh,” Gino grunts with pleasure as he leans forward onto Supergirl’s back, puts his two hands on her soft yielding breasts and begins to move his prick and back forth to match the rhythm established by the slickly-coated teenage heroine.

“...whoa....you do know....how to use that thing....after all...” murmurs the delighted girl.

“Likewise, blondie. How’d you get so good?” Gino’s pace is steady and slow in a very pleasing way as his thick dick slides in and out of Supergirl’s pussy with metronomic precision.

“...Carnegie....hall.....” she answers blurrily, resting her cheek on the slippery glass and rocking herself again Lupenzo’s hips at a faster pace until she reaches the next plateau of sexual satisfaction. She takes the mob boss along with him.

“Practice!” He grunts in appreciation, not just for reference to the old joke but the surprising squeeze and roll maneuver by the Maid of Steel. It’s a move that makes him cross-eyed for a moment. “Ahhhhh!”

Firmly squeezing Supergirl’s tits, Don Lupenzo snuggles tightly against the rocking blonde beauty and caresses her slippery figure with every available part of his body. His chest rubs against her back, his pelvis against her gleaming oiled butt, his outer thighs against her inner thighs. Even his calves rub against Supergirl’s now slippery boots. And, of course, his greasy hands continue to maul, fondle and squeeze the teenager’s plump tits in ways that yank gasps of joy from the young heroine. Their oiled bodies slip and slide against each other in an unrelenting tangle of slick flesh on flesh. The weight of his body on hers creates just enough friction to make it a fucking delight to the Maid of Steel.

“Mmmmhhh...OH...wow....that’s....incredible....” As her slippery figure is heavily massaged inside and out by the surprisingly virile old don, Supergirl is drifting to yet a higher plateau of erotic joy. She really begins to pump her hips against the panting mobster’s crotch now, bringing him along for the ride of his life. Supergirl bumps back and forth, back and forth, over and over as she feels Gino’s cock plunging and withdrawing within her loins with a heat that pulls sweat from her skin in tiny silver beads. The sweat flows off her to mix with the olive oil and create an almost frictionless surface of the glass table. Her pelvis slides back and forth against the glass surface.

Thhippp. Thhippp. Thhippp. Thhippp. Thhippp. Thhippp

Reaching near the peak of his arousal and his stamina, Don Lupenzo’s left hand moves off of the soft tit of his blonde prize and clasps firmly around her neck. The thumb and forefingers of his hands hold as tightly as possible to the sides of Supergirl’s jaw, freezing her head in place as he begins to jerk his hips back and forth with a final frenzy of sexual gratification. The friction feels like it’s increased ten-fold and before he can think about holding back a second longer, Don Lupenzo’s penis erupts with pleasure, dousing Supergirl with a thick load of cum that tickles her to her very core.

“HHHUUUNGGGHHHH!” His face strains with ecstasy, his tendons tight in his neck as he spurts and hoses her cunt with every inch of his being.

Restrained by her arms and legs, and by one strong hand holding her breast as the other tightly grips her neck, the kryptonite weakened, overwhelmed, overmatched, oversexed Maid of Steel relents completely to the control of the man’s dominating power. The rushing thrust of him ejaculating within her puts the icing on the cake, so to speak, and Supergirl lets her ego admit total defeat. And in that moment, she is flooded by a rushing white wall of overwhelming pleasure that has her screaming with joy.

“AAAIIEEEYAAAHHHHHH!”

Her pussy floods with a rush of cum that sets off two more spurts from Gino who is holding her tightly as before, pinning her to the table and living the very dream of ecstasy he’d imagined for weeks. His final spurts create a secondary wave of titillating pleasure within Kara’s body that takes her completely by surprise.

“...oh...oh....OHH.....YES...YES....YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS....” The famous heroine is reduced to a panting, drooling, oily tangle of oozing pleasure. Finally, she’s satisfied. She never thought he would do it. Pinned beneath a wheezing mob boss, she moans out a long slow exhalation of ultimate release, her eyes fluttering as she sinks into the deep black pit that is the delightful result of absolutely exhausting and completely fulfilling sex. Gino joins her in that dark realm, limp on top of the debauched heroine, the two of them leaking fluids in two pungent puddles that flow all over the wide glass surface.



* * *


“What do you think could have happened to her?”

Wonder Woman looks up at a pacing Tony from her place on the couch as she pulls on her costume boot. Her outfit had been completely cleaned by one of Tony’s most trusted One-Hour Cleaners. The owner behind the counter had known Carmine for years but when the heavy mobster actually threatened the owner with grievous bodily harm if he ever told anyone who’s uniform he was working on, the man gulped, agreed and swore an oath to Carmine. He then personally took the gym bag with the clothes in it into the back, gave his crew of three an extended lunch break and cleaned the uniform himself. It wasn’t easy getting all those crusty white jism stains out of the underwear or off that gold fabric eagle but he kept at it and when he was done treating it, he sent it around the machine to deal with the sweat stains and nasty odor that the costume gave off. He cleaned and shined the boots and buffed the tiara and when he was all done, he neatly folded the clothes back into the gym bag that he had cleaned as well. When Carmine came back 70 minutes later, the owner absolutely refused payment and send the big mafia hood away with a free magnetic calendar as well.

And while her costume was being cleaned, Wonder Woman took a 40-minute shower, letting the water pour over her in torrents as hot as she could bear. She scrubbed every inch of her self until her skin was raw yet she didn’t feel clean. She shampooed, rinsed, repeated and then repeated again but it still felt like she had clumps of cum in her hair. It was all imaginary of course, She was badly rattled by the days events. And she didn’t have much time to pull herself together.

“It’s just another mission, Wonder Slut,” murmurs Diana as she stands under the shower head looking up into the needles of spray raining down on her after she’s supposedly all clean. “You can swallow that, right,” the black-haired Amazon blurts out. And then she collapses to the floor of shower sobbing heavily as she bangs her head softly against the tile wall again and again and again. “It won’t be a big deal for a hero whore like you,” she chokes. It takes her another twenty minutes before she can compose herself enough to face Tony and the others in the living room.

“I think she fucked up,” Tony replies moodily in answer to Diana’s question. “I don’t know how it happened but my only guess is that somehow Gino had kryptonite stashed somewhere in reach and took Kara down. I have no doubt he’s fucking her if he did trap her somehow. Now we’ve got to go to his place and get her back. She’s been in there over six hours now.”

“This will not be easy,” Sergei says, standing in the kitchen and slicing off pieces of a large Granny Smith apple with a menacing paring knife. Munching noisily on the fruit, the large blonde Russian adds, “I’m sure he is to be having guards up the wazoo by now.”

That’s why you’re coming and that’s why I am bringing Wonder Woman, too. And her magic lasso. Plus the three fellas who polished off the terrorists at Columbus Circle.”

“Think that will be enough?” Carmine asks. “You sure you don’t want me along, Ton?”

“I want you guarding home base Carmine. If anything happens, I trust you the most to handle things. Besides, you’re not a very good shot.” Tony grins at this mentor

“Aaaayyy!” Carmine feints a body blow at the young mafia chief and then smiles himself.

“I would like it more if we could have at least some kind of element of surprise,” Wonder Woman admits.

“Well, you can case the rooftops and see if there’s a way in that’s unexpected. It’s the best we can do,” Tony replies.

“If I could call in reinforcements I’d feel better,” the Amazon warrior admits. She isn’t on her game, she’s handicapped by her heroine habit and she has zero self-confidence at the moment. All in all, not the best time to be breaking into a heavily defended Mafia stronghold.

“We talked about this, Diana. No Flash, no Batman, no meta-humans of any kind. I can’t trust them,” barks a nervous Tony Bonano. “You I got a kind of hold on because you won’t do anything funny to jeopardize Supergirl’s safety and vice versa. Those other clowns I don’t know from a hole in the ground. We do it my way.”

“I’d wear a vest if I were you, Tony,” says Diana with a rare smile. You don’t have my bracelets to deflect bullets.”

“I got something better than bracelets. I got charm.”

“Yes! Charm up the wazoo,” Sergei interjects. “That is working well against bullets I’m sure,” the Russian Bear says with heavy sarcasm. For himself, he’s wearing a vest, three different guns on his person. A nasty knife from his days in the KGB and a good luck coin from his dead brother in Moscow. He’s ready to go to battle.

“Fine, I’ll take a vest,” Tony says, reaching into the closet for his personally tailored model. “Alright, let’s do this,” Tony says, leading his team to the elevator.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Gangbang Of A Heroine
Part 58-A



The raw autumn air in the shade between the buildings on mid-town Manhattan’s York Avenue foretells the onset of a cold winter. The small group of people huddled a block away from Don Gino Lupenzo’s headquarters blow on their hands while they discuss what Mario had seen when he casually sauntered by the front of the building. Being a new soldier among Tony’s troops from Brooklyn, Mario is a fresh-faced dark-haired lad in his first year of Brooklyn Community College. He’s got a thin long nose, thick lips and curly black hair. Most importantly, this new member of Tony’s family isn’t someone that Lupenzo or any of his men would have reason to recognize.

“There’s only one person out front guarding the doors, Mr. Bonano,” Mario reports. “He’s short, stocky, about 5 foot 8 or so. He’s wearing a Mets sweatshirt. He keeps rubbing his shoulder like he bruised it or something. The door behind him is completely smashed in. You can see right past the guy into the front hallway from the street.”

“Has he got any kind of weapon in his hands,” Wonder Woman asks. She stands with one hip cocked, her fist on her belt, her real lasso dangling on her opposite hip. The golden eagle at her calmly rising breasts is dark in the shade of the tall buildings.

“I didn’t see him holding anything but I did notice his sweatshirt was bulging. Must be a big gun to make it bulge that much.”

“Good eyes, Mario. Thanks,” says Tony. “You still want to take the roof, Wonder Woman, or come at the guard straight on? You’ve got those bullet-proof bracelets and you’ve done this kind of thing more often than us.”

“I’ll search for an access from the roof like we discussed,” Diana says with calm authority. “When I’m up there, after I’m sure I can get access to the building, I’ll create a distraction from overhead so you can get the drop on the front door guard. It would be better if you take him out silently if you can. I’d like to keep the element of surprise as long as we possibly can. It will be safer for Kara if we do. Once I see you handle the guard out front, I’ll go in through the access I find and work my way down through the building looking for Kara. If there’s no access, I’ll signal that with a cross wave of my hands like this. I’ll still do the distraction but then just come back down and go inside from the front. But don’t wait for me to come down. You go in and I’ll catch up with you.”

“Sounds good,” Tony replies. “Sergei, after Diana gives us a signal that she’s ready to distract the guard, I want you and Ricco here,” he pats the tall young redhead on the shoulder as he talks, “hustling by the front door like you’re both in a hurry. The moment Wonder Woman draws his attention, Sergei, you turn and throw your knife. How’s your aim? Have you done this lately? I know you’ve taken out guys like this before but how long since you last did it?”

“Last year in Sarajevo. Not to worry, Tony. I practice enough.”

“Wait! You’re not going to kill the man are you?” Wonder Woman is taken aback by the realization of what she’s getting involved with here.

“What did you expect, Princess,” Sergei snarls.

“To subdue him with more stealth than a bumbling amateur,” snaps Diana, her warrior side spilling out foolishly. Then she sees the cold fierceness in Sergei’s eyes and lowers her own eyes with instant humbleness. “Uhh, but you should do what you think is best, of course.”

“As I always do, Wonder Woman,” Sergei replies icily. The sarcasm that drips from the word ‘Wonder’ is obvious to all who stand in the small huddled circle.

“Enough you two,” Tony barks. “We have to do this as a team. Get your heads in the game on this or someone’s going to pay the price. You all get me on that?” Tony surveys the group sternly. The sullen nods around the circle indicate reluctant agreement. “Good. Okay, Sergei, once you take out the door guard, you and Ricco get him inside. Mario and I will immediately follow you inside with Gilberto,” he nods at a small, dour-faced hoodlum who’s got both arms crossed on his chest and sullenly listening to all the plans with a scowl. He wants to shoot Lupenzo’s guard without all the trickery but it’s not his call. “We will rush around the corner and help you take over the vestibule. If there’s anyone else inside, do you have a second knife, Serg?”

“Da, and a third. If anyone’s inside the front foyer, they are to be dead in seconds. Silently, I promise.”

“I am handy with a knife myself, Mr. Bonano,” Ricco adds. A rare redheaded Italian who’s family’s roots are sunk in northern Italy near the Austrian border, Ricco has a calmness about him that inspires confidence in people. It’s why Tony picked him for this assignment. “Sergei and I will handle everything.”

“Excellent, Ricco. You’re Carmine’s nephew right?”

“Stepson, actually, from his third wife, Angela. I was born after Carmine and she split up.”

“Well, be careful, Ricco. Carmine would have my head on a platter if anything happens to you.” “Carmine worries too much,” Ricco scowls, being tough at 27 years old in front of the famous don.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” smiles Tony. “And Gilberto,” Tony says, turning to look at the sour-faced gunman, “no shooting unless I give the signal. We’re playing this one cagey at the outset. I don’t want any blasting done unless I give the order. I know you’re aces with a firearm, that’s why I brought you. You’ve got the best aim of anyone here. But you don’t discharge your weapon unless I give you the thumbs up, got me?”

“Yeah, Mr. B, I got it,” he nods respectfully.

“Good man. Okay, Diana, head out and let’s get this done. Time’s a’wastin’,” Bonano says, tossing off a drawl like some old cowboy.

Wonder Woman simply nods and trots off around the corner to find the back of Gino’s building and search out a fire escape or other way to get to the roof. Back in superhero mode for the first time in ages, Diana feels good about their chances. She just hopes that Kara has not unduly suffered during the six hours she’s been out of contact. If all goes well, when they’re done here, Diana hopes that she and Kara can just hang out together and get high. Tony had given her a fraction of a hit of heroin just after they finished discussing this rescue back at the Pleasure Dome. He didn’t want her going through withdrawal or to be too stoned to be effective. He called it a tough balancing act. But with her power belt on, Diana felt on top of the world for the first time since she was first attacked in Bryant Park. How her life had been turned upside down since that day, she ponders.

“Come on, Diana,” she whispers aloud to herself, “focus! Kara’s life is on the line here!” With that admonition, Wonder Woman blocks all random thoughts from her mind and concentrates on her mission.



* * *



It’s entirely possible that Supergirl has never looked in worse shape in her life. She is lying flat on her back in the fancy office at Don Lupenzo’s headquarters with her bare arms thrown wide apart and her knees up in the air, held wide apart by a four-foot long black iron spreader bar. Wide leather cuffs around her ankles force her to keep her feet flat on the floor. One cuff circles her bright red boot, the other a bare ankle. Her second boot is nearby, cast aside in a folded lump. Her silken cape is lumped uncomfortably beneath her, it’s fabric is wrinkled and stained, it’s hem bunched and stretched out of shape.

The blonde heroine’s blouse with its renowned diamond ‘S’ emblem has been indecently pulled down to her waist, revealing her full young breasts, bright red nipples that have been obviously abused and a chubby, distended belly. With equally nasty unseemliness, her short costume skirt has been hiked up to her hips offering unrestrained scrutiny of her neatly trimmed pubic bush and a hint of the gleaming pink folds of her labia. Shockingly, the sprawled body of the Maid of Might is colored a sickly shade of green. From her waxen face to her trembling toes, the teenaged wonder’s entire body is the ghastly color of watery pea soup that indicates severe kryptonite poisoning. The sound of her wheezy labored breathing confirms her distress.

Supergirl’s eyes are closed, but her lids flutter weakly as she vainly tries to regain consciousness. Self-awareness, however, may be the last thing that the once mighty Kryptonian hero wants to achieve since the young blonde is covered head to toe with thick globs of gluey semen. With humiliating thoroughness, gelatinous white cum drips from every part of Supergirl’s sprawled green figure: from her spunk-matted eyebrows to the hollows of her twitching sunken cheeks; from the cracked cum-shelled curves of her bare breasts to her widely flung arms with hands crusty with congealed jism. Rank semen is puddled in her belly button and shines in a spreading chain of drops across her naked stomach. Nasty white trails of ejaculate slowly ooze down the once muscular thighs, now slack with jowly, shaking tremors, and trace along the curved shiny calf of Supergirl’s quivering left boot. Her bare right foot is heavily mottled with oddly-shaped clumps of cum that thicken between her toes and slowly slide off her naked ankle. With her face turned sideways, her cum-pasted cheek flush against the plush blue carpet, Supergirl’s mouth gapes open as a fat lump of pale white jism slowly slides out of the corner of her mouth to join a substantial amount of the foul jelly pooled beneath her cheek.

“....eergghkkkk....”

The proud beauty had ingested so much thick gluey ball juice from her hours under the control of Don Lupenzo and his vindictive crew that her belly, bloated with semen, even now unconsciously rejects the overflowing jism up out of her throat and onto the rug on which she lies.


Supergirl’s puffy, raw-lipped vagina, clearly exposed since her panties have been unceremoniously tossed off onto the nearby couch, is a misshapen, overused orifice that involuntarily leaks its own slow trickle of thick white cum between her helplessly shackled and splayed legs. Abused by bottles, a bat and massive cocks, there could be no clearer manifestation of Supergirl’s soiled honor than the shocking image of her now sagging, leaky twat.

Directly under her twitching butt cheeks, Supergirl’s asshole drains out its own dismal stream of lumpy white jism that clings to her rear like thick paste. It spreads a dark stain onto the section of the bright red cape spread beneath her rear. Supergirl’s ass, like her pussy, is now spread wide open, a stretched-out, red-rimmed hole incapable of any significant muscle control. After repeated sessions under strain by large penises, a selection of wine and beer bottles and one vengefully applied monster dildo, the once tightly restricted sphincter is nothing but an unprotected cavity whose sole function has been utterly compromised by the constant abuse heaped on the heavily-drugged teenage wonder. Having the kryptonite pendant kept so effectively cloistered for long hours between her breasts has reduced Supergirl’s once tight body with its youthful elasticity and virgin charms to a flabby, defiled wreck that offers only the pathetic looseness and negligible appeal of a lifelong whore offering sloppy seconds.

With her famous uniform crassly stripped from her tits, and with it’s bright blue and red colors defiled by a heavy coating of foul-smelling cum, Supergirl is the ultimate picture of a disgraced and defeated heroine. To know the glory of what she was at her soaring, smiling best and to see her wretched condition now is to look with horror at the heights from which a heroine can fall, and to know the deepest depths that a soul can reach. Her remarkable body has become a conspicuous testament to the ruin that stems from drugs and a broken spirit. The world renowned Maid of Steel trembles, groans and hacks up another clump of cum, demonstrating complete humiliation as obviously as her deathly green hue exhibits her unsteady grip on life.

“...hhrgkkk....aaauurrgghhhhh....” Moaning weakly, overwhelmed by the constant strain of deadly kryptonite radiation and the after-effects of five long hours of unrelenting sexual abuse, the green-faced Maid of Steel has been rendered obsolete as a symbol of justice. The way she now lies on the carpet in a barely conscious fog of drooling ineptitude, the teenage champion is the embodiment of eye-fluttering, splayed-legged, cum-soaked devastation,

But even more, there is one unassailable fact that underlies this tragic scene of utter debauchery that is truly the most shocking notion of all: Supergirl, once the illustrious role model for millions of adoring fans and the pride of an entire planet, was nothing less than an enthusiastic, active participant in her own spectacular destruction.



* * *



It began early on, right after Don Lupenzo and she had groggily woken up after the elderly yet virile don’s hedonistic defiling of the famous Daughter of Krypton. Upon awakening, Supergirl displayed an all-too-eager willingness to smoke pipe after pipe of high-grade crack. This ‘fuck-it-all’ attitude was based on Supergirl’s morose realization that she had so quickly and so easily capitulated to Gino. Knowing she had given up herself so readily, the Maid of Steel’s damaged spirit sank into the muck of its own despair. This, in turn, sparked a manic desire to continue a course of self-destructive behavior that was, in equal parts, depraved, boisterous and unrepentant.


This mood of manic self-degrading behavior directly contributed, along with the influence of some very potent crack, to her teasing, playful encouragement of half a dozen of Don Lupenzo’s men. Some were called in from the road who’d been on assignment searching for Tony’s men to assassinate. Others were the very souls she’d so cavalierly disposed of when she’d first attacked Gino’s headquarters. Needless to say, the gang of men escalated their responses to the Maid of Steel’s sexual taunts from crude verbal reactions to outright sexual attacks in the space of a mere six minutes. Gino’s earlier allusion to Supergirl’s desire for punishment clarified into a path of sexual exploitation that was explored to the limits of endurance by both Supergirl and the gang of Lupenzo’s henchmen.

Now these same thugs lie in sprawled positions of beaming sexual gratification around the large room after hours and hours of face fucking, ass reaming and pussy stuffing of the famous blonde champion.

At first, the drug-crazed sex addict had stupidly encouraged and then thoroughly enjoyed the unrestricted melee of groping, thrusting, screaming hard-core sex. She exhibited a frenzied need for physical penetration and verbal abuse that actually stunned this hardened crew of miscreants. None had ever experienced anything like this before. The bitch was almost insatiable for all forms of abuse. Naturally they had obliged her in any and every way they could think of.. Some of the suggestions had come from Supergirl herself to the shocked but immediate agreement by all parties concerned. But after a while, even the drug-crazed manic Maid of Steel had discovered her limits. Unfortunately, the gang of Lupenzo’s thugs had not, so out came a steel spreader bar and the helpless heroine’s ankles were securely cuffed. Then, no matter how much she protested and whimpered and complained, she couldn’t close her legs and her vagina and rectum were forced to endure continued indignities until all the gang was satisfied and Supergirl was a ravaged wreck.



* * *



The first pipe’s worth of crack smoked with quick, desperate purpose by the blonde beauty stuns her into a somber silence that she marinates in for a few minutes. Gathered around her are six swarthy mafia thugs and the old don. They merely watch the nodding teen as her head twitches against the top of the glass table on which she is bound. After about four minutes of savoring her high, Supergirl’s eyes open and she blearily registers the circle of men surrounding the table.

“...seven...swarthy...studs and...nobody’s...got a dick....to share...?..” she mumbles.

“You’re gonna get yours, bitch. Don’t worry about that,” growls one man.

“...all talk...’n...no...action....thaz...typical of...you mama’s boys....”

“Six hard cases are ready to do you right now, Super cunt. Hope you’re ready!”

“...z’matta...? Need...a..fucken....’graved invitation...?...”

“Not for your pussy, from what I hear,” chuckles one of the men.

“...so...den...Untie me and....show me what you got....Mary....”

A nod from Gino and four men eagerly attack the ropes and handcuffs pinning Supergirl’s four limbs to the coffee table. In no time, she is hoisted to her unsteady feet by Basso and Tino, Don Lupenzo’s personal security guards.

Sagging between the two large men on wobbly knees, the blonde lifts her drooping head and looks around the group of men surrounding her “....atz..better...now you losers....can pretend to be men...in front of...each other....”

Basso nods at Tino who releases the blonde. Holding her up by her dangling cape, Basso quickly twists Supergirl’s arm behind her, forcing her wrist into the middle of her back.

“Arghh!” She yelps instinctively, swaying awkwardly in place until Basso’s other hand grips her breast. He pulls the blonde teen sharply against his chest and squeezes her fleshy tit harshly in his wide, encompassing hands.


“..finally...a real man...” she says. “..one..whooz...not...’fraid to touch my tits...”

With that, the remaining five mafia thugs surrounding Supergirl close in on the helpless teen with hands outstretched, seeking the soft parts of her body to squeeze and prod and fondle with impunity. Both breasts are pawed at and mauled by multiple hands. Her nipples are pinched, tickled and rubbed until Supergirl squeals loudly, her head thrown back, her voice cracked with pleasure.

“YES! OH, YEAH!!!....Oh...yes...! That’s what I was hoping for!”

Other hands have plunged into her panties, their fingers probing deeply into her vagina and ass, stroking her feathery bush, tickling her inner thighs, fingering her twat and poking deep into her rear.

“...Eeeemmmm.....ohhhhhh......that’s...incredible...too...” she gasps as her excitement mounts.

“Okay, cunt,” someone says. “You’ve had some fun. Now it’s time to pass that pussy around!”

“..whadda....you....shuggest...?...” Supergirl slurs. “Somethin’ naughty..a.. hope...”

Basso speaks up, an idea he’s been thinking about since he first saw one of Supergirl’s hottest selling DVDs, “Supergirl Takes A Big One.”

“You’re gonna do the Supergirl Squat, blondie,” Basso commands. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready.”

With the crack high having swept away the addled blonde champion’s inhibitions, she willingly stands in place while Tino fingers her pussy for two straight minutes. Before the time is up, the Maid of Steel is slumped weakly against Basso’s hard physique, her lowered panties clinging to her legs as her pussy drips its juicy pleasure down her trembling thighs.

“Okay, Tino, you look ready. Lie down there and let the famous Twat of Steel here squat down and impale herself on your boner.”

“...sounds...lovely...” breathes the blonde beauty huskily.

“Wait a sec. Let me get this annoying towel out of the way,” Basso says. He reaches behind Supergirl’s neck finds the secret clasp after a moment’s search and releases the cape. He tosses it off to the side for now.

The heavily stimulated slack-jawed teen is turned around, and she stumbles a bit, but is steadied by Basso. She looks down to see Tino’s shoes sticking up between her own boots. She turns her head around and smiles to see Tino lying on the blue carpet propped up on his elbows with his hard cock waving in the air. Supergirl slowly squats down looking directly into Tino’s eyes with smoldering heat as she guides him to the entrance of her moist, eager pussy. She then turns her head away from Tino and merely studies the carpet as her well-lubricated vagina slowly slips over the full length of the Tino’s cock, encompassing the hot muscle completely. Wriggling in place for several moments with a lusty smile pasted on her face, the famous Kryptonian champion savors the pleasure of the deep penetration. Then she begins to bob up and down on the hard, throbbing muscle with obvious gusto. The lucky mafia hood holds his hands lightly on Supergirl’s hips as he watches her gorgeous round butt cheeks play hide and seek beneath her short flapping skirt. With every eager up-stroke of her toned body, the silky skirt clings to the beautiful rear, accenting the rounded curves enticingly. Every lusty downstroke creates enough airflow to lift the skirt up high enough to reveal that flexing, rounded rear as her tight twat swallows the man’s entire penis in a velvet chamber of absolute bliss. Again and again, Supergirl humps away before the ecstatic hoodlum without reservation. Her crack-saturated psyche seeks the pleasures that her body demands and the punishment her soul craves. Her pace is relentless, spurred on by the rhythmic clapping and hooting of the surrounding group of men calling out “Hump! Hump! Hump! Hump!” with lusty encouragement.

The blonde beauty’s hips become a repeating piston of desire as her mindless pussy clutches the hard muscle on every downbeat. It isn’t even a contest. The Kryptonian cunt massages and rides the human cock with unbridled lust, working it’s velvety channel over the hard rod without stopping. The friction is too much for Tino to bear. It sucks the spewing seed right out of the helplessly delighted hoodlum. The man’s neck arches and strains with climax as his balls send a geyser of cum into Supergirl’s eagerly squeezing love box. Tino collapses flat on his back with pleasure, only to be dragged off and replaced with Basso’s stiff prick as he shows a shit-eating grin of anticipation.

Supergirl does him, too. Her palms press against his thighs as she bobs her body up and down on the hard cock with wild abandon. Basso has the ingenuity to stick his forefinger up Supergirl’s ass and wiggle it back and forth as she rides him, causing the aroused blonde to moan huskily as she pumps her slick pussy up and down over the man’s rigid prick.

“...g...gooood....” she murmurs happily, her eyes drooping with pleasure as her excitement builds steadily within her. Walking up to her from the surrounding circle, a man wearing navy blue sweatpants with contrasting light blue stripes running down the legs and a matching light blue polo shirt presents himself to the leering blonde, pulling out his dick from a button fly.

“Hello, Supergirl. I’m Sal and you’re gonna suck my dick.”

“..yur the one....on the other...side a da door...who wouldn’t... open the door to.... let Vinnie in....z’bout...protocol...”

“That’s me. But now you’re the one who’s gonna open up, blondie....and give me head.”

“...nice...to...see a man....knows...what...he wants... AWWHMMM...”

Supergirl stops her bobbing action for a moment and merely grinds her pelvis slowly against Basso’s crotch, as she takes the head of Sal’s hard cock into her warm mouth. She then pulls back on it slowly, letting her warm breath waft over the pulsing rod. The blonde teen then leans forward as she gyrates in slow motion on Basso’s cock, licking Sal’s penis with her long pink tongue. It swipes all around the head and shaft of the grinning mafia hood, giving the prick a bright shining coat of warm spit.

Sal reaches down, palms the back of Supergirl’s head with both hands and gradually pulls her face forward until the famous blonde heroine’s nose is buried in his pubic hair and his 7" cock is deep down her throat. Then the overanxious thug begins to rapidly thrust his hips back and forth, forcing his cock in and out of the disoriented heroine’s face. He’s pushing and pulling too fast for Supergirl to even use her tongue. She holds her mouth open for him as he shoves his dick in and out of the famous champion’s face. And then he stops his thrusting completely and simply holds her head in the tight vise of his palms, savoring the pleasure of face-fucking the one and only Supergirl! After seven seconds, Supergirl puts her palms on Sal’s legs and tries to push off. The kryptonite has weakened her to the point where she can’t break Sal’s grip. A choking gagging noise gurgles out of the wide-eyed teen but she can’t extricate herself from the iron hands pressing her head into this man’s groin.

“Oh man, her pussy just spasmed like a motherfucker,” blurts Basso. “Incredible!”

With her throat clogged by seven inches of hard cock and her nose buried in soft, curly hair, Supergirl’s eyes begin to roll up under her lids as her face goes red.

“AAWWGGKKK!!!”

“That’s enough, Sal. Let her go. Leave some for the rest of the guys,” Don Lupenzo commands.

“Sorry, boss. Didn’t mean to hog the hog!” He lets his hands drop away from the blonde’s hair and she backs off immediately, the long dick retreating from the depths of her throat with a gleaming layer of clear pre-cum shining on it’s veined surface.

“...ALLGK....HAAAKK....heeeez.....wheeeeezzz.....”

With her elbows locked and her hands on Basso’s thighs, Supergirl’s head hangs low as she takes painful gasps of air into her fiery lungs. After about 20 seconds of respite, Basso prods the gasping girl’s kidneys with his knuckles. Her slack figure rests heavily on his pelvis, his prick still deeply buried in her cooz

“Forget about me, beautiful? Start it up again, Super Whore.”

The teenage champion scowls momentarily, angry at Sal but taking it out on herself and Basso as she immediately begins bouncing up and down on the hard muscled rod with a frenzied determination that takes the big man’s breath away in a mix of shock and ecstacy. A mere one minute later, Basso nuts tighten up with exquisite tension and he shoots his load into the hard-riding femme fatale in red and blue above him.

“OOHHHHHH,” he moans as he empties his ballsack in ultimate joy. After several spurts, Supergirl raises herself up with yet another scowl while Basso slides out from under her and goes off to the john.

Even as her pussy drips with Basso’s semen, the Maid of Steel pulls up her costume panties and complains, “That’s it? You fucking guys all finish up before a girl can truly enjoy herself. Aren’t there any real men in this group?”

“Well, let’s try it a different way, you foul-mouthed slut,” a deep voice says from behind her. Before Supergirl can turn to see who’s speaking to her, her head vibrates with a stunning shot from a baseball bat that has her seeing double.

“UUUGGHNNN!” The stunned teen falls forward onto her palms, her knees spread on the carpet as she barely holds herself up. “...oohhhhhhhh....” Moaning, Kara sways weakly in place on all fours, her brain a disoriented mess. She feels a hand around her waist as someone kneels behind her. Then her panties are quickly yanked off her and pulled down to mid-thigh once again. Immediately after she’s been stripped of her panties, Supergirl’s vagina sears with agony as the working end of Don Lupenzo’s aluminum baseball bat is jammed past the entrance of her nether lips and buried four inches deep into her yawning pink cavern.

“AAAGGHH!” Supergirl screams in shock and torment, her eyes overflowing with tears. And then that deep voice whispers in her ear.

“That better, Super Cunt? Closer to what you need?”

“...n...no...no....t..too....big....”

“Too fast. Too big. Some women just can’t be satisfied,” deep voice says with a leer. “Hey, I’ve had bats bigger than this up many a girl’s cooze. Just takes a little getting used to. And the proper stimulation. Here, let me show you, Supergirl.”

With one hand around her waist, Deep Voice lets the bat handle go and the end of it thumps into the carpet, twisting the head of the bat so it rubs against the ceiling of the Kryptonian teen’s vagina.

“AAHH!” she gasps. The hand around her waist tightens, holding up the dazed, helplessly wobbling teenage champion as he pins her in place. Then the other hand smooths over the skin at the apex of her crotch just over the place where her clitoris is located. Deft fingers begin rapid circles over the spot, caressing ceaseless goose eggs over her sensitive flesh Around and around the fingers race, stimulating Kara’s love bud from outside her vagina yet pleasing her deeply. Then the circles slow and begin anew in the opposite direction at a extremely fast pace.

“Mmmmm,” she moans, pleased once again at the growing sensations within her. Her tunnel of love begins to generate its lubricating river so the boats can glide in. The circling fingers then stop only to be replaced with simple rapid back and forth strokes directly over the spot of her steadily expanding clit.

“....ooooohh......aaaahhhh....” purrs the satisfied Maid of Steel as she slumps down on her forearms, her ass angled high in the air.

“See, Supergirl. I told you that you could handle this,” Deep Voice whispers in her ear. “And I think you’re ready for more.”
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
TaliaAlGhul101
Neophyte Lvl 3
Neophyte Lvl 3
Posts: 29
Joined: 7 years ago

Wow even when there powers are restored, the girls have been broken to the point where they still don't try to escape there predicament for fear of retaliation and an addiction to heroin. There's also not wanting to run the risk of one of them escaping and the others life being put in jeopardy. It says alot about how brutal the final beating Sergei gave to Diana must have been that we only see the aftermath and are only given snippets of what he put her through and installed that kind of fear into her.

Enjoying this story quite a bit, cant wait to see what happens next and whether the girls will ever be able to get free and how Superman is holding up.
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

TaliaAlGhul101 wrote:Wow even when there powers are restored, the girls have been broken to the point where they still don't try to escape there predicament for fear of retaliation and an addiction to heroin. There's also not wanting to run the risk of one of them escaping and the others life being put in jeopardy. It says alot about how brutal the final beating Sergei gave to Diana must have been that we only see the aftermath and are only given snippets of what he put her through and installed that kind of fear into her.

Enjoying this story quite a bit, cant wait to see what happens next and whether the girls will ever be able to get free and how Superman is holding up.

Thanks, TaliaAlGhul, for your comments. Yes, both heroines are sort of hamstrung by each other unfortunately, as well as their separate addictions. Tony has figured their weaknesses well and exploited them well. As has Lex Luthor with Superman, who we'll be getting to see in a while, but for now, here's....



Gangbang Of A Heroine
Part 58-B


“.y..you...sh...sh...sure...?” There’s no answer but the hand around her waist disappears and then Kara feels the head of bat gently rotated within her loins. But this time there’s no pain, merely pressure. Ever so slowly, the large round aluminum cylinder is pressed forward, deeper into the chasm of joy. Supergirl begins to pant as the enormous shaft edges up the sides of her expanding pussy. The walls are stretched magnificently and Kara can only drool in delight as she feels herself filled beyond anything she’s felt before.

“OHHH! DEAR RAO...I...NEVER....FELT...THIS...FULLLLL...” The Last Daughter of Krypton whimpers with pleasure. Her mouth drops wide open in an oval of untold delight. Her eyes clench shut. All her nerve endings seem wired directly to her vagina and it’s generating an irresistible swell of pleasure that she’s been wishing for

The bat is once more slowly turned within her, causing more whimpering and gasping by the quivering blonde. “...my...my...goodness....that’s....goooood...”

“There’s more, “ Deep voice tells her. “You deserve a good buttfucking!”

“....no...not....th...that...too. I..c..can’t...take it....”

“Trust me, skank, you’ll love it! Let me just make sure old Louie here is nice and snug so it doesn’t fall out.” The aluminum bat is gently and slowly pressed another inch into Supergirl’s pussy

“...ohh..hh..hhh....hhh....” The jittery voiced blonde exults in the sensation of her vaginal walls stretched to their limit, her body wrapped around a cool hard core of metal that she’s holding aloft with no help from Deep Voice’s hand at all. “...ah..h....hh..hhhhhh.....” Stuttering with moaning delight, Supergirl feels her juices sliding down her inner thighs as her orgasm slowly swells within her. It’s like a panther on the prowl that will not be denied.

Feeling Deep Voice changing position behind her, Supergirl finally turns her head around, her forearms still flat against the carpet, her ass in the air and a shiny aluminum bat sticking out from under her skirt, wavering in the air. Deep Voice is poised above her now, looking down on her as if from a great height.

Supergirl is surprised because the man who shoved a bat up her butt is not that large, maybe five foot seven at most. Wearing black jeans and a blue denim work shirt, this is one of the ambush squad that Supergirl had run into in the marble foyer. She had knocked his head together with Sal’s at the top of the stairs. He didn’t look any the worse for it. His smirk told her that he certainly was enjoying himself. And why shouldn’t he? She surely was, thanks to him.

“My name is Arturo. When you think back on this pleasure, as you often will, remember that Arturo knew how to handle a woman of deep needs.” He peels off his jeans and his black plaid boxers until he stands naked behind her.

“...i...i..will...” Kara murmurs, licking her lips in anticipation of that nicely-sized prick driving inside her.

“Turn around, I want your body to experience the sensations, not your eyes.”

Supergirl obliges willingly, turning her head and simply staring down at the carpet. Then she feels her rear end pulled apart, her warm cheeks separated by strong hands. The feel of cool anal gel being swirled over and inside her balloon knot surprises and pleases her. This wasn’t about power but pleasure. Well, at least not entirely about power. Control certainly, but what the fuck, she’d asked for it.

The pressure of a warm penis sliding through the thick glob of gel at the very depths of her ass tickles the blonde beauty at first. But then, as the firm staff asserts its right of entry, the fun little tickle turns to a jolt of excitement as the head of Arturo’s cock thrusts past the entry of her ass and explores the first two inches of her back passage. The dick head circles around the entryway, sliding all over the inner vestibule of Supergirl’s ass. The thick anal grease is spread all around the area by the wandering dick head.

“Whoa! Huh.h.hh...” Garbled pleasure blurts from the Maid of Steel as she is willingly sodomized.

“Don Lupenzo told me you liked it up the ass, Supergirl,” Arturo whispers. “Guess he didn’t lie.”

“...di...didn’t...” she answers, savoring the incredible dual sensation of a jam-packed vagina and an ass with a curious python stretching its head into the warm corners of her cave.

“Let’s get you vertical for even more fun, champ,” orders Arturo. He grabs her by the collar and a thick clump of her hair and jerks Supergirl up so she’s kneeling in place. The bat swings down until the handle knocks against the carpet driving the head of the aluminum toy another inch into her pussy.

“YAAHHH!’ The Maid of Steel body twitches and flails within Arturo’s grasp as she absorbs the sexual stimulation that this extra inch provides. It makes her feel dizzy with pleasure.

“...w..wait..a..second...have to adju....GHUNNGHH!” With a rude jolt, Arturo thrust his cock a mouth dropping five inches up Supergirl’s greased ass. The buxom beauty sags in his arms, her eyes rolling up as she loses all her bearings momentarily. Held limply by her collar and her hair, Kara’s head nods against her chest as she tries to gather her strength together. The hand holding her hair disappears for a moment until it reappears at her right breast, squeezing it firmly. And the cock in her ass is slowly pulled down until just the head is buried inside her.

“....uhhhh....gotta give....me..some...warn....NNNGHHHH!” Once again, Arturo’s hot pulsing prick is buried deep up Supergirl’s ass, this time going all the way to it’s base. The blonde’s neck arches back and she grimaces in breathless shock at the feeling of having both her lower orifices stretched to their fullest capability. “...oohhhhhhhhh....” All she can do for the moment is moan.

Arturo withdraws his cock once again, slowly, working the greasy salve along the inside of the anal passage with a careful angling this way and that of his hips. Supergirl coughs and a comet of saliva shoots out of her mouth, flying through the air in front of her face before arcing down to the wilds of the thick pile below.

This time, Arturo’s prick is pulled completely out of Kara’s rear and she feels a moment of sadness. That’s before the newly greased pole slides easily past her relaxed hole and ever so slowly pushes along the walls of her cavity with slippery finesse, gradually pressing ever deeper into the Maid of Steel’s encouraging ass.

“Eeehhhhmmmmmmm” Kara purrs with pleasure when the rod comes to rest for a moment fully buried in her back channel. Delighted by this double impalement, Supergirl’s head rolls on her neck while her breast is squeezed, rubbed in circles and handled from beneath like a man choosing ripe cantaloupes.

Arturo’s other hand continues to hold tightly onto Supergirl’s collar so the lust-drunk floozy doesn’t collapse on the rug in dazed delight.

“Gonna pick up the pace now, Sugar Slit,” Arturo notifies the befuddled blonde. And he does. Quite a bit. In moments, the short but powerful mafia thug is riding Supergirl’s ass like she’s the prize bull in a rodeo ring. He rides her bucking body with a firm grip on her collar and her chest, moving his hand from tit to tit as he gives the famous beauty his shaft again and again with driving thrusts that force grunts out of her widely stretched mouth.

“HUNH, HUNH, HUNH, HUNH, HUNH, HUNH, HUNH, HUNH!”

Only the whites of the blonde heroine’s eyes are visible now. She is on full overload. The driving cock works in tandem with the massive cool bat bouncing up and down in her vagina with every slapping jolt of Arturo’s bare hips against her shimmying rear. From deep within her core, Supergirl feels her orgasm rising like superheated steam in a volcano vent. With a soft turn of her nipple and the rushing thump of his penis driving to its hilt within her, Supergirl cannot contain the flood within her. All the sensations fill her mind simultaneously and she explodes with blinding white pleasure, her body arched like a bow as everything within her releases at the same time.

“AAAIEEEYYAAAAHHHHH.” She screams to the heavens with ecstacy. Her loins flood with her cum as she jerks and writhes in the total exhilaration of her body and soul. Even her eyes flood with tears of happiness as she reaches her arms back to hold Arturo’s flanks. He is near his own orgasm as well, and he quivers and shimmies as well even as he gives his final few thrusts to the famous blue and red clad heroine jerking with nirvana in his arms. He savors her warmth, her juices and her trembling figure as he gives one final thrust and then he too loses himself in ecstacy. His balls shoot heavy streams of pleasure out through his pulsing dick, bathing the insides of his comely prize with oceans of lusty love juice.

“Gguuuhhhnnn!” Arturo grunts loudly, as he blindly spews his jism and holds the limp figure of Supergirl close to his groin. The spurting feel of his ultimate pleasure sends an additional wave of tingling sensations into the very core of Supergirl’s brain. She is wracked by a second orgasm that shakes and jerks her body so violently it draws every ounce of semen out of an spent and tired Arturo. It also dislodges the aluminum bat enough that it slides out of Supergirl’s well-oiled vagina and falls to the carpet with a thump.

“Oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Supergirl moans feebly, now slackly draped over Arturo’s folded arm as she limply hangs by her stretched collar, a study in satisfaction.

“Whhuuuuuhhhnnnnnn!” Arturo groans with full-throated deep pleasure himself. He had fucked this famous cunt soundly and she was overjoyed by it, would dream about him and his cock for years to come. Dizzy with spent desire, Arturo pulls out of Supergirl’s oozing asshole. Together they plop to the carpet on their asses wavering in the orgasmic afterglow of an amazing session of unrepentant debauchery.

“Who’s next?” Don Lupenzo looks around the circle for eager eyes. There are so many, it’s hard to choose.



* * *



Diana climbs from the last rung of the roof access ladder over the parapet and onto the hard black tarred surface covering the roof of Don Lupenzo’s headquarters. Cautiously she scans the area with wary eyes, searching for movement. There is none. There are chimneys and vents and ac units all over the expansive roof for someone to hide behind but Wonder Woman sees no one.

What she does see is a large hole in the front left corner of the structure, near the face of the building. Judging by the angle of the concrete and the steel rebar bent upwards toward the sky, Kara had punched through the building from below with not a little vengeance. Good for her! But then something must have happened. Otherwise she certainly would have returned. Neither of them would leave Tony’s domain without the other. They’d vowed this together over mugs of tea.


Wonder Woman stealthily trots toward the yawning hole, her head pivoting in all directions in search of sentries. There doesn’t seem to be any. Standing over the five foot wide hole, Diana looks down and sees a two similar holes directly beneath this one. Supergirl had punched through two floors and the roof in her whirlwind of destruction. Wow! That girl had game when she was on! It gladdens Diana’s heart with a surge of momentary hope. With Kara’s powers intact, maybe there was a chance for them to escape this madness of Tony Bonano and his twisted dreams of mob rule.

But then the realization of Kara’s absence punctures her spirit like a crossbow to her heart. Kara’s powers were probably history by now, otherwise Diana wouldn’t even be on this roof. “Enough daydreaming, girl,” Diana murmurs to herself. “Just get down there and see what’s....”

A sound behind her snaps her head around and Wonder Woman sees a fat steel pipe swinging straight for her face. Throwing her arm up at the last second, the Amazon warrior manages to turn the crushing blow into a deflected blow against her wrist bracelet and a nasty rap on her temple.

“Hnnnhhh!” Diana goes down hard, falling to her hands and knees in stunned confusion as her head swims with pain and dancing glowing lights. “....oohhhhhhh....”

“Fuck!” Her assailant curses from somewhere off to the side.

Diana tries shaking her head but that only stirs up a bout of nausea. She can’t concentrate as her head rings with a blaring tone that even Tony four floors below must be able to hear. But the ringing is in Wonder Woman’s head alone as she wobbles on all fours trying desperately not to pass out.

“You’re one tough bitch, Princess,” a surprisingly close voice snarls in her ear. And then some kind of thin cord snaps around Wonder Woman’s throat and pulls tightly across her pale olive skin, choking off her airway completely.

“WRRULLGKK!” Diana’s eyes bug out in horror as she is lifted off her knees and yanked backwards against the hard physique of the sizeable man behind her. This is a disaster! One second she is the predator and now she’s the prey, a very desperate overmatched prey. And then the two of them fall backward. Her large opponent slaps to the roof on his ass and pulls Wonder Woman onto his lap, forcing her to lean back against him at an awkward angle as he continues to pull the cord around her throat, squeezing her neck like a vise.

“STP. DN’T. EGKKK!”

Diana’s hands reach up but she doesn’t even try to get her fingers under the cord strangling the air out of her. She knows that’s already impossible. He’d been too quick, had snapped the line too tightly around her throat. She’d been inattentive and now she was paying for it big time.

Her flailing hands grab the powerful wrists of the man choking her but the stunning blow to her head and the lack of oxygen make it difficult to pull the strong arms apart. His two fists are behind her ears, straining hard on the choking rope as it sinks into the skin of her throat.

“AAAGKKK!” The Amazon warrior sets her feet flat against the roof and pulls with every ounce of effort on the wrists. She manages to pull them wider and lessen the choking power of the thin cord. It’s just barely enough to take a whistling breath. Encouraged, Diana sets her feet again for leverage and pulls hard on the wrists once more. This time the man gets smart, however, and his feet kick out against Wonder Woman’s heels and her boots slide out straight, cancelling her leverage. The man’s two legs entwine around the calves of Wonder Woman’s boots and raise them in the air even as he pulls with a massive yank on the choke cord.

“HUULGGGKKK! AAWGKK! EWRRGKK!”

Wonder Woman is helpless. He holds her there, his body freezing her in place for an agonizing twenty more seconds. Diana’s bright blue eyes protrude like large eggs. Her face is deep purple. Her fat tongue now dangles out of a wide open mouth that searches desperately for a non-existent airway. Her hands flail wildly now, like panicked birds. Her boots jerk and kick in defenseless spasms.

Can’t let it end like this!

But the cord is unrelenting and Wonder Woman’s hands fall slack behind her, limp dead things on the black tarred roof beside the hips of her all-too-powerful adversary. There is a final strangling wheeze and then from between Wonder Woman’s thighs flows a rushing wave of urine that soaks her panties and the man’s lap beneath. Wonder Woman’s head falls back at an odd angle and her boots thump to the rooftop with a stunning finality.

“Wow! I thought you’d be much tougher than that, Wonder Woman. Guess I hit you harder than I thought.”

Letting up on the choke cord, the large man unwraps it from Wonder Woman’s throat as he pushes her off him. Her body rolls over, face down on the black roof, a limp figure with a yellow puddle beneath her hips.

“Fuckin’ pathetic bitch pissed herself and me. Some fuckin’ hero she turned out to be,” the man shakes his head with disdain, looking down at the lifeless body. “Nice ass though. Gotta give her that. I was gettin’ hard just havin’ her in my lap.” Squatting down in appreciation beside the limp form of the garrotted Amazon, the six-footer slides his palm over the smooth expanse of her ample buttocks.

“Yup, a royal piece of Amazon ass! Too bad you ran into “Knuckles” Zambini, toots. Should a been more careful for lookouts. But you wuz too hot to get inside and save your pretty blonde friend. Too bad for you.”

He rolls over the limp body to get a better look at the famous tits. He hadn’t seen them from the front during their fight. As Wonder Woman’s body flops onto her back and her tits shimmy before the wide-eyed Zambini, the muscle man whistles in appreciation. He ignores the lolling tongue and the endless stare of the bulging eyes. He only has eyes for those magnificent tits.

“Great knockers!” Knuckles leans over to get a good two-handed feel of these massive beauties. And that’s when Wonder Woman’s knee jerks up suddenly and catches Knuckles right on the throat.

“HRRGKK!” He chokes as his adam apple is crushed. His palms hit the roof as he sways in choking horror over the beaten heroine. And his eyes go wide as he sees the thousand mile stare of those blue eyes turn toward him with a cold fury that scares him to his core.

“...not....dead....?...” he rasps out.

“Close but no cigar, you dumb bastard!” Wonder Woman’s voice is hoarse as well. She then lashes out with her left hand, grabs the man’s shirt collar and sends a hard right cross into his face with all her considerable strength behind it. Her fist slams into Knuckle’s nose shattering it to pieces.

“AARGGH!” Blood showers out of the nose and onto his clothes. Diana doesn’t let go of the collar until she hits the big guy with a devastating right uppercut to his chin that sends him flying off to the right. The man rolls over and over in a loose tumble of arms and legs until he comes to a stop three feet from the hole in the roof. He is the limp one now. But Diana knows he can’t be faking this. There are too many odd angles and too many protruding bones for him not to be dead.

Her remorse is slight and over quickly. She’d had to piss herself just to convince the man she was dead. Thank Hera he’d never strangled someone before. He would have known it never happened that fast. Strangling is one of the hardest ways there are to kill a person. She knows from experience.


Rising to a low squat, Wonder Woman duck waddles over to the edge of the building. Looking down on its front face, she sees the man in the Mets sweatshirt still standing guard. And she sees Tony and his group standing on the corner searching the rooftop for a familiar face. Finally they see her and she gives them the signal she’s ready to distract the man. Sergei and Ricco start up the street, walking briskly like they have someplace urgent to be. Diana picks up a small piece of gravel from the roof and, when Sergei and Ricco are nearly in place, she drops the stone. It falls the four stories and lands right behind the guard with a loud crack in the cold air.

Spinning around, the guard sees the stone and looks up. Shielding his eyes, the large man see a face leaning over the edge of the roof. It’s a woman with a shiny headpiece glowing in the late afternoon light.

“Oops! Sorry,” yells the black haired lady. “Hey, lookout behind you!”

The guard spins around only to see the two men who’d been hurrying by now stopped at the foot of the front stairs. One man has his arm cocked with something shiny in the hand.

“What the fuck.....KKKGHH!” Going for his gun, the guard was much too late on the draw. The knife is in his throat before the large pistol clears his waistband. Dropping the gun to the stairs, the man feebly tries to pull the knife from his throat. The fact that he succeeds is not a good thing. The spewing artery sends a cascading arc of blood out over the front stoop. It falls at Sergei’s feet even as he sidesteps it and grabs the falling bulky body which he drags inside the building. Ricco takes the feet without being told and the man is noiselessly dispatched in less than twenty seconds.

Looking down from the rooftop, Diana shakes her head in grim resolve. Two dead at her hand already. Things weren’t going quite as she had expected. She rises and heads over to the hole in the roof, undoing her lasso so she can lower herself down and find Kara as expeditiously as she can. She wanted to find her, get her out and head home to strip off her piss-stained costume and stand under a hot shower for as long as it took for her to feel clean. Maybe five years?
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
KnightsofGotham.com
Producer
Producer
Posts: 1369
Joined: 9 years ago
Location: Vegas, Nevada
Contact:

One hell of a story. I haven't finished it yet but wanted to jump in and tell you that i printed it out and took it to read while at the doctors office. again, haven't finished it but wanted to let you know i really appreciate this.
User avatar
TaliaAlGhul101
Neophyte Lvl 3
Neophyte Lvl 3
Posts: 29
Joined: 7 years ago

Close one there for Diana. Used to be a time when she could have handled some run of the mill thug with ease and not have to debase herself to escape defeat. Granted even with her power belt on she is hardly at 100% given what she has been put through just recently and only a short while after recovering from what Sergei did too her. Speaking of, will more of what went down when Sergei got his hands on Diana when the girls tried there last escape be shown through flashback or mentioned? Or is it one of those "take our word for it, it was brutal" kind of things?
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

TaliaAlGhul101 wrote:Speaking of, will more of what went down when Sergei got his hands on Diana when the girls tried there last escape be shown through flashback or mentioned? Or is it one of those "take our word for it, it was brutal" kind of things?

Talia, I decided to draw the curtain shut on Sergei's actions and let my readers' imaginations supply whatever torments they felt would subdue the Amazon warrior to the point of nearly abject compliance and fear. I do not make further mention of it or offer flashbacks in this story I'm afraid. Of course, as this past episode proves, there will be more than enough debasement of both heroines to satisfy even the most eager heroine peril fan. As always, thanks for the feedback.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
TaliaAlGhul101
Neophyte Lvl 3
Neophyte Lvl 3
Posts: 29
Joined: 7 years ago

K, was just curious.
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Fun and Games
Part 59-A




Kara Zor-El, the vibrant, beloved and beautiful Last Daughter of Krypton, sits on the plush carpet in Don Gino Lupenzo’s wrecked headquarters in a slouched, woozy daze. Blissed out on the powerful sexual afterglow of a thorough fucking by the talented and well-endowed Arturo Boccimente and his trusty aluminum bat, the famous teen heroine sways in a small, wobbly circle, her eyes shut tight, her calves crossed beneath her, her shiny oiled knees spread wide and flat against the thick pile. Her palms are spaced two feet apart out behind her back to support her tired figure. Barely aware of her surroundings, Supergirl feels her sphincter lose control as her heavily abused ass suddenly and helplessly releases a final gush of Arturo’s strongly-scented cum.

“..nnhhh....” The blonde beauty merely mumbles a grunt of thin pleasure at this sensation and lets her head drop to her chest before she takes in a long deep breath and then lets it out in an extended sigh.

Looking down at the sluggish champion, her body bright with greasy oil from her sagging shoulders to her gleaming boots, Don Gino Lupenzo is filled with a deep satisfaction at the sight of the sexually compromised heroine. Not only is her naked ass soiling the carpet beneath her with a man’s cum, but her famous costume still drips with olive oil that had been smeared all over her lithe, athletic figure. Her full, round breasts show through the thin slippery fabric with excruciating erotic appeal, right down to her hard nipples straining through the clinging blue fabric.

Gino has the one and only Supergirl sitting here in his headquarters in a state of total helplessness, her powers nullified entirely by the glow of a tiny fragment of kryptonite on a pendant that’s been draped between her breasts for hours now. The once mighty teenage champion is his to do with as he pleased. And the little slut is discouraged and bitter at herself for her immediate acquiescence to Gino’s offer of sex for crack. In fact, the famous blonde heroine is now filled with such self-loathing that she is all-too-eager to comply with whatever he suggested. She ached to punish herself. The eager eyes of his six crew members flash with pleasure as they, too, try to conjure up ways to abuse the gorgeous blue and red clad figure wavering before them.

“How about another nice bowl of crack, Supergirl?” Gino takes the pipe from the nearby counter and notes there’s still a small pebble of the crack cocaine nestled in the bowl of the orange glass crack pipe.

“...kay...” she murmurs. Not even opening her eyes, the blonde champion simply purses her lips, licks them and then opens them partway to await the proffered pipe. Smiling at the blatant willingness of the famous Maid of Steel to debase herself with another brain-battering dose of crack, Don Lupenzo gives a silent nod of grudging admiration to his absent nemesis, Tony Bonano. He’d obviously been very skillful in his training of this clearly addicted cunt. Gino still wanted the fame-hungry bastard dead and out of his hair for drawing so much attention to the families, but he had to give credit where credit was due. Tony had gotten the strongest female on the planet deeply hooked on a near-rabid combination of crack and sex. No small accomplishment. And that wasn’t all. Gino strongly suspected that Tony had Wonder Woman under his control as well. That hit on those terrorists at Columbus Circle certainly seemed to have Tony’s fingerprints all over it. Gino was surprised the police weren’t already searching Tony’s places for that Amazon troublemaker. Wonder Woman had broken up a few of Gino’s own heroin shipments over the course of the years, costing him hundreds of thousands of dollars. Hell, even Superman had been taken out by Tony or, more accurately, by that crazed bitch in red leather that Tony probably hired.

Maybe I’m wrong about Tony. With what he’s done, he just may be more valuable alive than dead.

Looking down at the nodding blonde beauty with her mouth hanging slack in dumb expectation of the pipe, Gino nibbles at his lower lip in deep thought. Seeing the famous heroine so stupidly zoned out on a routine of sex and drugs, he ponders his options. The reality of the situation infuses him with second thoughts.

The guy who can do this to Supergirl may just be too smart to waste. Maybe I should be trying to work with this guy. At least until it’s convenient to muscle him aside.

Squatting down next to the wavering blonde, Gino shakes off his private thoughts and takes hold of her upper arm in one hand to steady her and holds the pipe to her mouth with his other.

“Sal. Light it,” he says and the big mobster leans over and snaps his cheap plastic lighter over the bowl of the orange glass pipe. Without a hint of hesitation, Supergirl sucks in a strong draw of breath and the flame dips down and lights the hard nugget of cocaine. The glowing, crackling pebble sends a gray cylinder of smoky pleasure through the pipe and deep into the famous teen’s lungs. She holds it there for several seconds, her eyes closed, her head tipping back and forth in tiny rocking motions. And then she lets out the smoke in a long exhale, the grayish-white stream pouring into the air between her face and Gino’s. He watches with a pleased expression, taking in just a quick breath of the second-hand crack smoke before it rises to the ceiling in a thin cloud.

“...uuuuhhhhh..” Supergirl’s blue eyes slowly open and her mouth widens into a stupefied leer of dopey pleasure right in front of Gino’s nodding head.

“Good, huh?” Gino suggests, stroking the girl’s arm with gentle pressure.

“...ohhhhhh.....yessssssss....” she murmurs in a silky exhale of stoned delight. The drug has blasted through her bloodstream and overtaken her brain. Supergirl’s eager indulgence in crack is just amazing to Gino. It’s as if the tyrant Batista had thrown open the doors of his Cuban palace and invited Castro in for tea just before the rebel leader brutally executed his host. Supergirl is her own worst enemy. The teenager’s head rocks back on her rubbery neck and dangles backwards between her shoulders. Her hair hangs limply down her back as she shimmies in place with the erotic pleasure of the drug inundating her mind.

Rising, Gino walks over to the bar, talking casually as he fills a small six-ounce brandy snifter with sweet ruby-colored cherry liqueur, “You must be thirsty, my dear. How about something sweet to drink”

“..zounds good..” the blonde girl mutters, lifting her head and trying to focus on Gino’s voice. She sees the arc of men standing five feet away and smiles broadly at them, her mind flushed with the crack, her body still sweaty and her pussy still moist with the last throes of delight from her sex-capade with Arturo.

“Hey....ya....guys...” she murmurs, “...drawin’ straws....tuh see who...gets ta...screw me...next..?..”

“Who’s to say it won’t all of us at one time, Super Slut,” replies a huge, heavily-muscled bodyguard who is cracking his knuckles repeatedly.

“...too many....dicks....not....nuff....holes...” she replies.

“Don’t be so sure, crack whore,” Sal coolly responds, giving her a twisted smile.

Walking back with the filled glass and bottle in hand, Gino hands the snifter to the wavering heroine.

“Here. Drink up,” Gino bids her. Already high from the crack, a thick-headed Kara abruptly sticks her nose in the glass and inhales deeply. The powerful sweet cherry fumes swim through her senses. Concentrated by the shape of the snifter, the strong scent makes Supergirl dizzy from the concentrated attack on her nostrils.

“...whoa...strong...” she blurts, then knocks back a big gulp of the powerful liqueur, nearly draining the contents. She smacks her lips and then circles her tongue around them greedily. “..bhut...gooood...” she drawls.

“Have another.” Gino tips the bottle and pours a generous measure into the small glass, carefully filling it two-thirds full as the rim clinks against the bottle neck when the snifter sways and shifts unevenly in Kara’s dazed, unbalanced grip Once filled, the whole glass is poured down the brazen blonde’s throat as if Supergirl is trying to show that either she’s unaffected by alcohol or that she could care less about the effects if they do kick in. The teen champion, seemingly bent on self-destruction, looks up at Gino with dull blue irises that show no common sense whatsoever.

“..whadiz...this stuff...called...?..”

“Cherry liqueur. Quite tasty, isn’t it?”

“Yup! Sure iz,” she replies and holds out the snifter. “More.”

“My pleasure.” He pours and she drinks the full contents of the snifter, once more, licking her chops afterwards.

“...girl could...lose her...figgur...she gets...a lasting...yen....fur... dis...stuff...”

“If you like it that much, Supergirl,” says Vinnie as he hikes up his Mets sweatshirt and unbuckles his belt, “why don’t you suck some of that sweet drink off my cock?”

“...whoa...daz...a...a...kick-ass idea....uh...Vinnie, right?”

“That’s right,” the guard responds, taking command of the moment since no one else was making a move. “You just lie down on your back right here and we’ll take care of the rest.” Vinnie pats the carpet where he wants Supergirl to lie down as he kneels right next to the spot. The lip-licking blonde complies without a pause, getting off her butt and crawling slowly and unsteadily across the four feet to the large, smiling thug in the Mets sweatshirt. With her panties thrown off onto the couch, Supergirl’s pussy becomes a visible pink gleam under her flapping damp skirt with every pronounced sway of her hips as she makes her way clumsily over to Vinnie. When she’s next to the large kneeling hoodlum, the subservient heroine immediately rolls onto her back with her head tilted back, her neck arched, her mouth open.

Whatever these bastards want to do to me, I deserve.

Motioning at a bemused Gino for the bottle, Vinnie takes it from the elderly, smirking don and tips it slowly. He drizzles the sweet liquor along the length of his exposed dick. Some of it drains onto the carpet.

“I’ll pay for the cleaning, Don Lupenzo,” Vinnie states immediately. “This is worth it!”

“Vinnie, fuhgettaboutit! The cunt trashed the place. I’m gonna have to rebuild the whole damn building anyway. Let the insurance adjuster worry about it.”

“Hey! You two...the cunt’s... right here!” The pouting, inebriated, crack-addled, self-hating heroine barks out. “...and...and she’s.... waiting for the cherry-coated cock....that... you promised, Vinnie!”

Maybe...can’t... beat these mob...bastards...any..more....but sure as hell... won’t be ignored...by them!

“Yeah, yeah, Super Bitch. Stop talkin’ and just open up and start suckin’ my dick, jizz queen!”

Squatting over the head of the now prone Maid of Steel, Vinnie scrunches his pelvis close against the back of her head and drops his sticky swollen dick on the blonde champion’s face. Stretching out her neck, the famous teen heroine opens her mouth as wide as she can and takes at least half of Vinnie’s pulsing cock into her mouth. She sucks on it hard, savoring the cherry sweetness along with the salty undertone of an aroused cock.

“Mmmmmhhhhh. Adzz....undafwul!” With her mouth stretched tightly around a uniquely tasty penis, the dull-eyed teen hero luxuriates in the pleasure of her oral satisfaction. Her cheeks draw in hard, their warm surfaces snug against Vinnie’s rigid pole as they squeak loudly with every hard suck of the sweetened penis. Vinnie’s hands reach out and palm the irresistible tits expanding and contracting within the wet, nearly transparent blouse a mere two feet away. He fondles them eagerly, squeezing their ripe fullness in his hands like firm but yielding water balloons.

“...eehhhhmmmm...” Supergirl coos with pleasure and begins to move her head up and back, swallowing the top third of Vinnie’s prick over and over with utter delight. Having drunk over 13 ounces of strong liqueur in under six minutes, the mighty Maid of Steel is not mighty in any sense of the word. Her hands are limp at her sides, her balance is shot and the drunk teenage girl only has enough focus to suckle on Vinnie’s joint with slow, lazy pulls of her warm mouth and soft dragging lips.

Supergirl opens her dulled blue eyes only to have a hairy ball sack slap against her eyelids, swatting them shut. The cock in her mouth draws slowly out and Supergirl opens her eyes once more simply to have her vision blocked off entirely except for sagging folds of a hairy scrotum hanging a mere inch from her corneas. Instinctively, the bewildered blonde’s eyes clamp shut in a protective reflex and the confused heroine can’t think of anything to do but keep them tightly clenched shut.

While Vinnie jerks his penis in and out of the disoriented blonde’s mouth, the warm ball sack slaps against her eyelids again and again in a swinging rhythm that frustrates the dizzy teen even as the oral stimulation of the pumping cock in her mouth and the steady squeezing and rubbing of her breasts and nipples excites her to greater heights.

Too dazed with liquor and crack to do anything but lie helplessly in place and have her face battered by a heavily swaying ball sack, the famous Maid of Steel simply submits and keeps her eyes shut for the moment. She quietly revels in the pleasure provided by the constant friction of a nice-sized cock stroking in and out of her mouth while her tits are handled by strong, masterful hands.

“...oooooohhhhhh...” Supergirl’s erotic sighs escape around the wide cock being steadily slid in and out of her wet, drooling mouth. Stimulated and happy, the gorgeous blonde coos with delight as the craftily brilliant hands demonstrate the initiative to pull up her blouse for better access to her swollen, excited breasts. The rosy glow of her firm, young tits are exposed to the roomful of appreciative men. The drunk cock-sucking heroine isn’t even aware of the degrading scene in which she plays an active role.

And then those strong hands set to work on the bare breasts with fresh fervor. New talents are revealed as gentle endless caresses of firm fingertips circle around the very tips of her aching nipples and drive Kara’s libido to new heights. Even the pace of the stroking cock picks up to a new thrilling redundancy that begins to take Supergirl’s breath away.

Closed off to visual input because of the slapping ballsack and feeling more and more lightheaded with every moment from the combination of the crack and liquor, Supergirl is quite startled when she feels strong hands circle her ankles and pull them up in the air. And she is shocked to her very core when immediately after that she feels a man’s mouth seal against her labia and smooch her warm, damp pussy with a loud squeaking smack that she has absolutely no immediate recourse against.

“Wha...??...” Then an invading tongue flutters, caresses and tickles her vaginal lips with blistering speed and efficiency until it traverses the height of those lips only to reach their apex and flick and twitter against the pink bud of her clitoris.

“OHHHH!” Supergirl’s hips jerk off the carpet in a helpless spasm of pure physical joy. But the predatory tongue doesn’t lose its place in the least. In fact strong hands draw Supergirl’s legs up over her head and then lower them so her knees span her head and come to rest in the carpet by her ears. The unrelenting tongue continues its steady assault against the pinned pink clit. It flutters, circles, licks and tickles the wobbly little button until Kara’s hips jerk in place over and over and she lets out a long muffled groan of capitulation. Her tightened calves loosen and her back arches as she raises her body up to bring the tongue its eager victim even closer. In her mouth, the stroking cock keeps a frantic rhythm that defeats any meaningful mouth work on the part of the teen heroine. Time after time the long hard prick dives deep into the drooling blonde’s mouth, delving deep into the muscles at the top of her throat and causing her lips to spasm tightly against the driving cock with every thrust of Vinnie’s hips.

At the same time, Vinnie’s left hand encircles Supergirl’s throat, pinning her head to the carpet. The right hand continues to draw endless circles around her nipple, occasionally offering gentle flicks of a fingernail that drive all reason from the over-sensitized champion’s mind.

“WWHUUUHHHH!” Delirious with vibrating sexual tension, Supergirl groans loudly as she is sated with sensations that ring along every nerve like a tuning fork humming out at High C.

When one of Kara’s ankles is released, her limp leg simply stays in position. And then that delightful mouth with its amazing tongue releases its tight lip-hold of her quivering, slippery clit. The befuddled blonde beauty is deeply saddened at this unexpected loss. He had been so good and it had felt like a slice of heaven. With just a cock in her mouth to please her, Supergirl feels a bit betrayed.

That mood is dispersed the very instant that a large, warm, hard knob is pressed past the drapes of her labia and into the entryway of her velvety channel, her fully lubricated pussy.

A heated dildo?

Kara had never heard of such a thing, but anything was poss...

“GUUUNNNHHHH!” Supergirl gasps in shock at the sudden three inch penetration of this massive device.

A heated baseball bat?

Squinting her eyes and seeing a very large square-jawed man with a brush cut and a leering smile kneeling against her upraised ass, Kara realizes this is no device but a genuine cock being slowly pressed within her loins. The man’s dick was huge! And warm. And fulfilling. And going deeper.

“RRRHHUUH...HUUHH...HUUGGGHHHH!” Supergirl’s joyful moan goes on for several moments.

While the aluminum bat with its cool metal surface and its intense size was one thing, this living warm python within her cunt was something else entirely. Its persistent slow advance through the stretching corridor of her vagina brings a helpless flutter to Kara’s eyelids as the very depths of her sexual center are steadily pried apart by the advancing behemoth.

“G..g...gg...ghhahhh....aahhh....ohhhhhhh....” Supergirl pants and moans with every inching advance of this wondrous fleshy rod within her. Hands that had held her ankles now squeeze her muscular calves through quaking boots. Wide forearms press against her thighs and continue to pin her legs over her head as the hot, scything sex sword continues to slowly impale Supergirl’s dripping, ever-accommodating pussy.

“WHUUUGGHHHHH!!!” To be filled by such a hard, living muscle is beyond Supergirl’s every fantasy. She savors every inch of the giant cock, sensing it’s veined length within her channel with every nerve in her vagina. The tips of her boots quiver in a red blur as she drools down her smooth cheek.

And finally, the engorged member is fully extended into Supergirl’s love hole, the hilt of the man’s warm scrotum is flush against her ass crack.

“You feel me fucking you, Supergirl?”

“...uh huh...” she whispers, her body trembling in his powerful hold.

“Big enough for ya?”

“...oh..yeth...” she replies through the cock that has come to a stop in her tired mouth. Vinnie wants to hear this.

“My name is Knuckles. You won’t forget me or my dick, will you, slut?”

“....doh...” the blonde answers again through Vinnie’s slowly pulsing rod.

“You want me to start pumping this bad boy in and out of your slushy snatch, don’tcha?”

“...yeth...pweeeezz!” The urgency of Supergirl’s plea creates smiles throughout the room.

This is 100% prime corn-fed slut, without a doubt!

Slowly, Knuckles pulls his huge prick down the contracting channel of Supergirl’s vagina. From her end, it feels like the Queen Mary being launched. Her body quivers as her loins send messages of lust straight to her brain.

“WHUUNH!” The pleasure jerks a helpless grunt from the famous teen. And Vinnie immediately starts up his predatory sexual act again, fondling Kara’s tits with eager palms, swirling fingertips and flicking fingernails against her rock hard nipples. His cock begins its steady stroking in and out of her mouth and Supergirl’s wrists jerk and jump weakly on the carpet with the heady pleasure of his varied techniques.

Between her thighs, apparently someone is drilling for oil. The hard repetitive shafting of Supergirl’s sexual strata is as relentless as it is unforgiving. True to his word, Knuckles’ rigid penis drives in and out of her deep channel with derrick-like persistence. Over and over and over, the huge girth and length of this pounding pipe sinks into the depths of Supergirl’s juicy channel. It’s incredible size and urgently thrusting heat draws gasps of utter joy and copious salty tears of ecstacy from the ravished blonde champion.

“OHH....AAGHH...UHHH...OHH....EAAW ..WROA...HUNGH. IZ..OOOH....UCH..!”

The face-fucked, pussy-stuffed Maid of Steel is a lost, trembling, weeping, helpless figure of total sexual exhilaration under the absolute control of two mafia thugs without a thought of mercy. And the drunk, crack-stunned Supergirl can’t think of a time she’s been more sexually satisfied in her life. In fact, the limp jerking heroine can’t think at all anymore.

The tightly gripped boots, the teasing, squeezing fingers at her nipples and the heady driving piston-like penises filling and refilling her mouth and her pussy ad infinitum creates a torrent of rushing pleasure through Supergirl’s brain that breaches all her defenses and draws a keening squeal of ultimate pleasure from the cock-stuffed throat of the pinned and tormented teen.

“....MMWWAA...A..A.A.AA.A.A..I...I..E.E.E..E.EYAAHHHHHHHHH!” A heavy, swampy river of cum courses out between Supergirl’s legs, squirting along her inner thighs, draining into her ass crack and puddling up on the carpet beneath her jerking, spasming hips. The restrained teen tightly held by her boots and her neck and pinned to the carpet by strong hands squeezing her breasts can only shake and pull helplessly in violent, unfettered pleasure.

“You’re not breaking up my arms shipments or destroying my heroin deliveries now, are you, Supergirl?” Gino calls from his vantage point with haughty glee. “Too drunk and stoned and fucked to do anything heroic now, aren’t you, you pathetic slut!”

The shaking, obliterated teenage champion offers no reply except a raspy gargle as her throat is jammed tight with cock and her snatch continues to spasm in its own juices as her massive climax echoes down the corridors of her mind.

It was a rhetorical question anyway.

“Not striking any heroic poses for the cameras either, are you, cunt,” taunts “Knuckles” Zambini, the assailant with the talented mouth and tongue and enormous cock that has left Supergirl a twitching, groaning, twisted tangle of sweaty arms and legs. In fact, the pose that the famous heroine has been forced into has filled Knuckle’s mind with absolute pleasure at his domination of this humbled cunt. He has made the famous Maid of Steel climax like some innocent virgin candy-striper in a hospital storeroom. This is Supergirl’s warm, slippery cum bathing his hard-driving cock and that is all the realization it takes to put Knuckles over the edge. His balls tighten in a thrilling final spasm of pleasure and the huge Mafia thug releases a fountain of hot, thick semen into the very depths of Supergirl’s body.

“GHAAAAADAAAAMMMMM!” Knuckle’s yowl of pleasure fills the room. And it is followed by Supergirl’s keening whimpering squeal of pleasure as the thrusting jism jets against her vaginal walls and sets off a secondary climax for the shaking, blinded heroine.

“EEEEEEEEEEYAHHHH!”

So much cum surges into Supergirl’s pussy from Knuckles’ seemingly endless ejaculation that a splattering shower of hot white beads sprays out from around the massive cock plugged deep into the quaking girl’s body. And all the famous heroine can do is shiver and tremble in the aftermath of one of the greatest orgasms of her short life.


And the sensations just don’t stop. Held by two sets of powerful arms with no way to break their grip, Kara feels the massive pulsing dick spurt and sputter hotly within her. A slight shift of the great organ within her sets off cascading tremors of sexual aftershocks in the blonde teen and she whimpers and trembles yet again with a set of several mini-gasms that elicit a string of moans and grunts.

“...OOHHH....GHUNNHH...AAHHHH....OHOOAHHH...WHUNNGH....EEEHH.....”

Finally, limp and spent, Supergirl’s limbs go slack in the hold of the two powerful men.

Suddenly, in her mouth, Vinnie’s fat, pile-driving cock abruptly freezes in place. A drunk and bleary Supergirl is too blistered by her orgasm and by a nasty overdose of alcohol to appreciate the meaning of this sudden change in rhythm. But when the hot hosing jet of Vinnie’s ejaculation screams down Supergirl’s throat and fills it completely, her eyes go wide with shock.

“IILLLLGKKK!”

“HUUGGNNHHH!” Vinnie’s long pleasured grunt fills the air and draws a small cheer from the assembled mafia hoods. They are unaware of the severity of the situation for the famous teenage champion.

Whether it’s Vinnie’s hand around her throat restricting her ability to swallow completely or the effect of alcohol and overstimulation preventing proper muscle control in her neck is unclear. What is suddenly clear to all the men in the room is that Supergirl’s eyes have rolled up in her head and she is certainly choking to death on the thick pasty jism pouring down her throat and spurting out of the corners of her mouth in frothy clumps. She looks like a rabid dog.

From the group of men watching her gagging helpless paroxysms, Sal calmly pulls out his cell phone and snaps this defining moment of pure terror and ultimate humiliation for the famous Maid of Steel. Her cock-filled mouth is spurting cum, her face is bright red, her eyes are white having completely slid up under her lids and her bare ass is pointed in the air with her knees pinned beside her ears as her pussy leaks copious streams of jism. It’s not the pose that any superheroine would ever want to be remembered in. But there it is, safely locked away in Sal’s phone.

And then Gino begins barking commands.

“Vinnie, for fuck sake let go of her throat and pull your damn cock out of her mouth. Knuckles, pull out that snake of yours, too, and turn her on her side, then whack her on the back. If that doesn’t work, give her the Heimlich. Move it guys. Nobody wants this pussy dead!”

The two men react to the strident tones of their boss with instant action. Vinnie yanks his penis out of Supergirl’s mouth, Knuckles pulls his dick out of Supergirl’s cunt with a distinctive pop and turns her over on her side as instructed. He gives the famous teen heroine a bone-jarring whack between her shoulder blades. A torrent of cum surges out of the limp girl’s wide-open mouth and clots in a huge misshapen puddle on the carpet beside her bright red face. It continues to pour out of the inert girl’s mouth until finally there’s a lumpy gag, a hacking cough and a flying final wobble of gluey jism that arcs three feet away. And then there’s a long blessed wheeze of strangled air that is drawn into the lungs of the famous blonde and the redness in her face tones down to a reasonable, life-affirming pink. This is followed by harsh coughing, groaning, and then another loud gag followed by a surging tide of cherry scented cum and vomit from the deathly sick heroine. And then it’s over. Supergirl flops over onto her back on her own and takes long, wheezy breaths for a full minute in the quiet of Don Lupenzo’s office.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Fun and Games
Part 59-B



“Arturo, get her some water. Vinnie, Knuckles, pull her up onto the couch. Let’s give the lady a break and get a chance to recover for a few minutes.”

Lifting the dizzy and limp blonde by both arms, the two mafia thugs carry Supergirl over to the couch, the soles of her boots scraping thin parallel tracks in the deep pile. They deposit her gently onto the couch and the faint teenaged beauty slumps deeply into the plush leather, her head flopping onto the soft armrest, her arm dangling off the front cushion of the couch, her legs splayed apart with one on the couch the other draped over the edge, the knee almost touching the floor. As Supergirl passes out completely, her vagina and her mouth continue to expel thick trickles of semen, down her chin and down her legs. Arturo stands there with the water staring down at the limp figure of Supergirl, shrugs and chugs the icy water himself.

“Well, that was fun,” Vinnie says brightly in the stillness of the office.

Knuckles whacks the heavy mobster on the back of his head. “Schmuck!”

“Wha’d I do?” Vinnie asks looking around to the scowling band of faces in the room.

“You almost killed Supergirl with your fat hosing prick, you dumb bastard,” snarls Don Lupenzo angrily. “Learn some fucking control why don’t you, you fat fuck!”

If anybody else said this to Vinnie there would be swinging fists and spilled blood, but the heavy bodyguard simply bows his head and mumbles, “Sorry, Don Lupenzo. I wasn’t thinkin’ I got too excited.”

“You think?” Gino shakes his head and sighs. “Vinnie, take a break. Be a good lad and go outside. Keep on eye on the street. We don’t want to be interrupted, right?”

“Sure, boss. I got it. Sorry.”

“It’s over with. I understand, she’s a hot number. It’s an honest mistake. I over-reacted. Don’t sweat it.”

When the heavy-set enforcer leaves the room, Gino gives orders to clean up the rug and the girl. When she ultimately came to, there were going to be more fun and games in store for her and the remaining crew.



* * *



“We have to stop meeting like this, Captain O’Donnell,” Carmine Vega smiles at the Irish Police captain as the tall ruddy-faced officer scans the casino floor with careful eyes. He turns his head to look Carmine in the eyes and his stare is intense.

“You’ll be seeing this warrant allows me to search this location again, Mr. Vega,” the tall Irish cop says in his thick brogue. “And sure as the sun comes up in the mornin,’ I’ll be wagering that Mr. Bonano is not here right now, am I right?”

“Too true, I’m afraid Captain.”

“For an owner of a run-down joint like this you’d think he’d actually be in this dump more often,” growls frustrated FBI agent, Sandy Lindstrom, from behind the tall captain. He’s giving Carmine a hateful glare. “You know, checkin’ to be sure his help don’t rob him blind.”

“Maybe he heard you were coming and decided he preferred fresh air, Lieutenant Lindstrom,” Carmine calmly replies.

“Or maybe he’s just upstairs hiding under his bed sucking his thumb, all afraid he’ll get whacked by Gino Lupenzo.” Lindstrom rocks back on his heels with his fists on his hips, smug with his own witty banter.

“Or it could be that he’s over at your place giving your girlfriend Louise the satisfaction you can’t,” Carmine snaps back.

“Why you sack of...”

“LADDIES,” shouts O’Donnell. “You two keep a civil tongue in your heads and get out of me way while my men and I conduct our business. Lindstrom, have a courtesy drink from Mr. Vega at the bar over there and keep out from under until we’re done.”

“You can have all the Shirley Temples you want, Sandy. On the house,” Carmine snickers as he nods to the bar tender. “Set ‘em up with his fizzy pink pretend drinks and don’t skimp on the cherries, Chuck. I know the lieutenant here wouldn’t want to break police by-laws by drinking hard liquor on duty.”

“It’s not like you have any quality hooch in this toilet of a club anyway, Vega,” grumbles the FBI agent as he heads over to the bar and hoists himself up onto the tall stool. Jurisdictionally, it was his federal warrant but that would have required him to work. He was just as happy to have the locals handle the search and report to him if they found either Wonder Woman or Supergirl. Especially since he knew they wouldn’t. Tony Bonano wasn’t about to be caught up in a rookie mistake like that. “What do you on tap?”

“Coors, Bud, Bud Lite, Guinness and Sam Adams.”

“Gimme a Sam.” Lindstrom palms a handful of peanuts and flips them one at a time into his mouth with his thumb, chewing on them with vigorous anger. Just once he’d like to get the goods on Bonano and Vega. It wouldn’t hurt his floundering career any either.



* * *



“Let’s go. Come on, wake up, Supergirl. It’s time for more fun and games.”

Kara feels someone patting her cheek repeatedly. Not with any harshness: It’s just annoying. But she can’t be bothered to respond and settles back into the gray fog of incoherent thoughts.

“...nnuhh....”

“She’s not coming around,” says Gino as he holds the blonde’s limp wrist in one hand while he turns her head side to side with the other, his hand holding her jaw firmly. “What do you think, Arturo?”

“She’s exhausted and looking pretty green around the gills. Literally. That kryptonite seems to be really getting to her now. See that green hue to her eyelids and her earlobes? And at the bottom of her fingernails there. It’s just a hint of color now but I’d say it’s knocking the shit out of her. You can’t take that green jewelry off her, of course, but I’d say that a B-12 shot and a can of double-caffeine cola ought to bring her energy levels up.”

“I don’t have any fucking B-12. How about a couple of uppers?”

“That’ll work.”

“Make it so, Number One,” Gino says in his best Patrick Stewart voice. Arturo merely shakes his head at his bosses’ silliness as he heads off to get the stimulants. Turning back to the sprawled blonde teenage girl, Don Lupenzo lifts Supergirl’s head a bit higher to look into heavily lidded pupils that are baby blue and blank.

“Dim bulb,” he says aloud. “If this is the quality of superheroines these days, we don’t have all that much to worry about, my friends. Easily captured, happy to fuck and suck and dumb as a bag of hammers.”

Fifteen minutes later, Supergirl tilts the last drops of a liter of Jolt cola into her mouth and finishes it off with a lip-smacking flourish. The amphetamines are starting to kick in, too, and her blue eyes have some genuine intelligence behind them again. She’s still completely powerless thanks to the tiny glowing green rock dangling between her slick, oily breasts and her skin carries a greenish hue in its extremities. But she’s ready to take orders as far as Gino is concerned.

“Feeling better, my dear,” Lupenzo inquires sweetly like some adoring uncle rather than the venomous reprobate that he truly is.

“Yes, thank you. Much.” Supergirl puts the plastic soda bottle on the coffee table and sits on the front edge of the couch cushions with her hands clasped between her knees, simply looking at Gino with hesitant expectancy. What now?

“Excellent. Now, before we go any further, I want to apologize for Vinnie’s...ahh...over exuberant behavior earlier. Nobody meant to cause you harm. It only your pleasure...well, and ours, of course... that we’re interested in. You were enjoying yourself, weren’t you Supergirl?”

Don Lupenzo’s eyes search the heroine’s drawn face closely for her reaction to this question. It would tell him how to proceed next.

“...ys...” Sudden downcast eyes and small flaring blush on the blonde’s cheek tells Gino all he needs to know, but he purposely draws out her shame.

“I didn’t hear you, champ.”

“Yes,” she whispers, then looks up into his eyes, the truth shining in her blushing face. “A lot.”

“Yes, it sure looked like you were,” Gino continues smoothly. “I mean all that screaming and whimpering and all that juicy discharge. Several discharges actually. How many times would you say Supergirl sprayed her cum all over your cock, Knuckles?”

“Gosh, boss. If I had to guess, I’d say Supergirl came at least four or five times in my arms. She definitely liked the feel of Knuckles Junior plowing her cunt. And she was plenty wet even before I got in there.”

The blonde beauty’s face hangs low, covered it in a curtain of limp, sweaty blonde hair. Kara wraps her arms around her body, hugging herself in a self-protective cocoon at the crude description of a reality she knew was only too true. She had behaved like a slut. Had eagerly laid herself down and sucked on that cherry-flavored cock and rocked in rhythm to the sweet sensation of that huge driving muscle like a common whore. The carousel of shame spins in Supergirl’s mind and she is dizzy with the confusion of a soul that has foundered on the rocky shores of an uncontrollable drug habit. She can only wait for the tide of that drugged ecstasy to rise again and sweep her away. Her body yearns for it and her crushed, broken spirit can do nothing but tag along.

As if reading her thoughts, Gino gently reaches for Supergirl’s hands. She unwraps her arms and puts her hands obediently in his open, waiting palms. “I will give you some more crack in just a bit but I want you to do something for all of us here. “

”What?”

“I want you to give everyone here a blowjob, Supergirl.”

“I guess I can do that. I’m very tired and weak though. Any chance you could remove...”

“...the kryptonite? No way.”

“I don’t know how good I’ll be, this weak and all, you know.”

“Hey, don’t worry, the amphetamines haven’t completely kicked in yet and I’ve got a special little device that one of my companies has just developed that will help with your motivation.”

“Device?”

“Yeah, a good one. Basso, could you get it? It’s in the pantry. Bottom shelf. Green and purple box.”

The big bodyguard goes out through the arch on command.

“This is the beta model you’ll be trying out,” Gino informs the curious heroine. “We’re in the final stages of testing. If everything works out, it goes into full production in a couple of weeks. It’s going to be a big hit. All the ladies at the Velvet Box can’t get enough of it. And their johns like it too.”

“Some kind of sex toy?” Supergirl’s eyes glisten as her randy thoughts already stir her interest. The uppers are starting to kick in even more.

“Thanks, Basso.” Don Lupenzo takes a brightly-colored green cardboard object the size of a personal pizza box from the big man. It has bright purple lettering on it. Gino turns the box so it faces the Maid of Steel as he lays it on the coffee table before her.

Ass-Master 2000

Anal Stimulator Extraordinaire!


Years of Pleasure for Men and Women Alike!


You’re sure to cum before your done!

Satisfaction guaranteed!



Look! Fun Musical Belt!

Plays 30 different tunes.

Shake and bake with the best of them!



Must be 18 years or older to use this product. Age verification required for purchase.

Remote control and belt each require 9 volt batteries, not included.

Pleasure Palace Enterprises
New York, NY 10017

Registered Trademark


The black and white pictures of a man and a woman smiling like village idiots in opposite upper corners of the box show the incredible happiness that the device within can provide. Below the Ass-Master 2000 logo, there are concentric circles that seem to expand and contract with the way they are printed on the box. They are a little fuzzy around the edges of the inner and outer circles. They seem to indicate some function of the device within. Next to the musical belt description are floating bars of notes. It’s all pretty cheesy and garish with the eye-straining purple and green color scheme.

“Open ‘er up,” a proud, eager Gino says to the somewhat overwhelmed blonde heroine.

“Ohhh...kay,” she says hesitantly.

Inside, within a plastic zip lock bag, there is a small tube of AssMaster 2000 lubricating grease, a bright green eight-inch rubber sleeve, and a black plastic cylinder of equal length that’s one inch thick. The rubber sleeve is bumpy with four smooth tiny silver bands evenly spaced along its length. A cap at one end of the rubber sleeve has a little triangular connector sticking out of it. This seems to match a connector fitted to one end of a foot-long curved piece of plastic. The other end of the curved arc of plastic features a circular connector and this appears to match up with the circular connector of the wide purple belt lying within the box. The belt has white lighting bolts shooting along its outer edge and a small purple box embedded in the front by a metal buckle. The purple box would appear to accommodate a 9-volt battery. The small square remote control sitting beside the belt includes a keypad and several colored buttons.

“Here, let me show you how it works,” Gino says brightly. “Stand up, Supergirl.”

“I don’t know....” she protests.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. The girls love it.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Quite the opposite, I assure you. Look at those two happy faces on the box. Would they steer you wrong?”

“Please, Gino. Can’t I just, you know, give you guys what you want without all this?” Supergirl waves her hand at the box with disdain.

“You want the crack or not, missy?”

“Well, of course, but...”

“Then let me put on this device and shush!”

“Fine!”

“Good, lift your arms a bit.” Gino takes the belt out of the box and wraps it around Supergirl’s waist, buckling it closed. “That fit okay, feel comfortable?”

“So far,” she replies, skeptically.

“Good. The battery is already loaded. I’ll attach the tension wand to the belt now. It’s all very easy to do. The connectors only can be attached in one way. See, this circular connector attaches the tension wand to the belt like so.” A small secure snap sets the wand into the belt and then Gino swivels it around so the curved plastic arc hugs tightly against Supergirl’s ass crack.

“Whoa there, buddy,” she complains.

“Relax, Supergirl. Let me hike up your skirt and get it out of the way. There. The ass crack wand has to be tight to keep the rubber sleeve secure in place so the motor works correctly.”

“Motor? So it’s just a fancy dildo?”

“Mmm. I’d say it’s more sophisticated than that, but I’ll let you be the judge. Now bend over.”

“You sure this is necessary?” Supergirl grimaces but bends forward at the waist anyway.

“No, it’s not absolutely required but with someone, you know, as anal-centric as you are, I’d say it will provide an added measure of sexual stimulation that we will all appreciate. Yourself included, little lady.”

Gino winks at the men watching Supergirl being willingly fitted with this elaborate sex toy. Their sexual tension can be felt from across the room by the Maid of Steel as she bends over with her hands on her knees . She tilts her head up and sees the eager thugs eyeing her humbling posture with glee. This brings a blushing mix of shame and anxiety to Supergirl’s face. And she reddens even more when she feels the cool salve applied directly to her balloon knot by Gino’s firm fat thumb. As her anal cavity is thoroughly greased, Supergirl’s eyes lock onto Arturo’s with a sudden tinge of lip-biting excitement. Then her gaze shifts to Knuckles’ face and the leer and crude lip-circling tongue action he vaunts at her makes her smolder with humiliation. What was she doing here like this with these bastards just waiting for their...

Supergirl’s eyes widen as she gasps out in surprise when Gino uses the insertion rod to brusquely shove the eight inch rubber sleeve up her ass.

“WHUNFF! Hey, that wasn’t very gentle!” An angry Supergirl starts to straighten up when Gino’s firm hand on her upper back pushes her back down.

“Stay down, Supergirl. I’m not done hooking you up back here.” Just then, a second snap of a connector is heard and then the insertion rod is rapidly withdrawn from the rubber sleeve and out of Supergirl’s rear. She trembles a bit at this pleasant sensation but the blonde beauty has had enough of this mortifying procedure. She pulls herself up to her full height and turns angrily on the elderly don.

“Look, Lupenzo. I said I’d suck you and your sorry crew’s cocks for crack and I will,” Supergirl barks in Gino’s face from two feet away, “but this belt and all its stupid attachments have to go. I won’t stand for being humili...OOHHH!”

Gino’s thumb is pressing a button on the small black remote and Supergirl’s world shrinks down to the indescribable thrill ride going on in her rear end. The sensation of a series of expanding and contracting rubber balls all along her anal passage draws every bit of breath out of the flabbergasted blonde. The size of the balls changes constantly within her rear: at first two large ones blow up to full size on either end of the long rubber bladder inserted deep in her ass. The three small balls in the middle pulse slowly within her. Then the middle ones quickly enlarge to press against her anal walls and the end ones shrink down. Then all the balls enlarge to fill her up completely. After a moment of that, they all shrink down to tiny hard pulsating balls before going back to a variety of different sizes.

Supergirl sways stupidly in place and then stumbles forward to be caught by Gino’s quick reaction. He had hoped for a strong response and having gotten it, was thrilled. The blue-eyed beauty turns her head and looks up at Gino from her unsteady perch on his forearm. Supergirl’s eyelids are fluttering in drowsy pleasure and her mouth is gaping wide with erotic joy.

“...dear...rao....what...a...toy...” she purrs, then drops to her knees when her weight shifts and Gino can’t hold her up any longer.

“The belt has a tiny forced air compressor,” Gino explains as Supergirl pants heavily on her hands and knees before him. “It’s tied into a patented microchip that sends signals to the bands set along the sleeve to open and close. That’s what makes the balls vary in size. It can be randomized or sequentially programmed in 30 different variations.”

“...FUCK....it’s...it’s...great...!...” the world famous heroine curses aloud to the shocked mafia don standing over her. With all that had been done to Supergirl up to now, Lupenzo hadn’t heard the blonde teenager use the F word one single time since he’d captured her. This ass-reaming device was definitely getting to her. It’s obvious how much it’s doing to her libido as she sways on the carpet on all fours, her hands splayed apart as she drools with her head bowed before the elderly don in shivering bliss. From behind, Gino’s crew watches in awed silence as Supergirl’s ass shimmies and shakes like a giant pink Jello mold. With her costume skirt tucked under the belt, the view of her pussy and ass is completely unobstructed.


“It also plays tunes, you know. And the balls change size according to the music. Here,” Gino says punching up a three digit code on the remote, “this is the Mexican Hat Dance. My Latino ladies love this one.” As the musical verse starts off with its slow choppy cadence, Supergirl bites her lip and freezes in place, feeling the balls slowly increase their size up and down the length of the rubber sleeve as the notes progress in a staccato rhythm.

“..uhmmm....” The blonde champion burbles with joy at the pleasure builds within her rear. Then when the chorus begins, the beat increases dramatically and the synthesized trumpets sound at a much faster pace. The blonde champion collapses to her forearms and whimpers with absolute delight while her ass is stimulated to frenzied distraction by rapidly inflating and deflating hard rubber bladders all along her sensitized anal passage.

“...uhhh.huhh.hhhuhhhh...huhhhh...........oohhhhhhhhhhhh....”

When the tune ends, Supergirl slowly pulls herself up to her knees and sits back on her calves, wavering with befuddled joy.

That was unbelievable!

“You ready to suck some cock now, Supergirl?”

“..deh....deh....definitely...” she coos with a pronounced stutter then gets back on her hands and knees and turns toward the five grinning mafia thugs before her. She’s ready to start her “BJs for Crack Marathon.”



* * *



After Wonder Woman finally lowers herself down the final three feet to the floor beneath the hole in the roof, she snaps at the knot tied above with a jerk of her wrist and the golden rope drops down to her feet. She coils it up neatly and snaps it into the loop on her belt.

“Now where is Kara,” she mutters softly to herself. In the middle of the hallway, she sees rooms to either side, with their doors flung wide open. Poking her head into them one after another, she sees destroyed computer hardware scattered everywhere, steel filing cabinets with holes punched in them and toppled bookcases on top of unconscious men. Most of the limp figures seemed to be of Italian descent.

“Follow the destruction and I’ll find my friend I bet,” Diana says. “Hope it’s soon. I’m starting to get the shakes here.” Indeed, the Amazon princess feels the yawning need for heroin growling inside her with a hunger that is harsh and real. She picks up her pace, scanning for ambushes. The sounds of her heels on the wood flooring as she makes her way through the building is regrettable as it is unavoidable. But she would no sooner pull off her boots than pull down her eagle crested blouse; although that certainly had been done more often than she cared to think about in the past two months. She wondered if she was actually beginning to look forward to the sexual engagements she’d been subjected to recently. There had surely been many of them. She didn’t like to think she was turning slutty but the heroin was definitely screwing with her inner strength.

As she sticks her head in another room to check on any occupants conscious or not, she sees further damage by Kara scattered around. More file drawers were broken beyond repair. A telephone wire box was blackened with a stabbing scorch mark in its center. Across the room, a steel safe melted to slag is exposed through a burnt-out poorly executed landscape painting.


“A girl on a mission,” Diana murmurs with admiration. Then she hears a low groan from behind an overturned desk on the other side of the room and steps forward to check it out. She takes two paces into the room when she is clobbered from behind with a ceramic lamp. It shatters against the back of Wonder Woman’s head and she collapses in place like a sack of potatoes, her legs pinned under her heavy body.

“...uuugghhhh....” she moans feebly, trying desperately not to lose consciousness as searing pain arcs through her skull like summer lightning. Pushing herself up from the floor on trembling arms, Wonder Woman raises her blurred eyes and she sees a short thin figure in brown, possibly wearing glasses step into view from behind her. She can’t focus as her head swims in confusion, her eyesight little better than peering through the bottom of a heavy glass bottle. When a small object comes leaping forward out from the background she can’t even make it out as a fist before it knocks her head sideways with a crushing blow that renders her completely senseless.

A small man with gray hair and a matching beard in a blue suit rises from behind the desk and walks over to stand by his associate in the brown suit who is shaking his fist in pain. This man is of equal small stature and age but sports a head of bright red hair that shows a bald spot at the crown of his head.

“Wow, good work, Joe,” Graybeard says to the red head. “You just knocked out Wonder Woman!”

“I did, didn’t I,” the mousy red-haired mafia bookkeeper says looking down at the beautiful unconscious Amazon at his feet. “Of course, your distraction worked just like we planned. Bitch comes clopping down the hallway in those heels and doesn’t expect to wake the dead, what was she thinkin’? I don’t understand what’s the big deal about superheroines anyway? Are they all this overrated, James?”

“Who knows,” says Graybeard. “Nice hooters though, huh, Joe?”

“Stellar,” the redhead concurs, prodding the limp beauty with the toe of his oxfords. “Let’s see if we can find Don Lupenzo and tell him the good news.”

“If Supergirl hasn’t hauled him off to jail by now. How’s your head, Joe?”

“The blonde bitch didn’t hit me all that hard,” the high-voiced redheaded mafia drone declares. “I guess she took it easy on me because I looked so non-threatening.”

“Yeah, me too,” the gray bearded James nods. “Let’s see what we can find downstairs.”

“We just going to leave her lying here?” The redheaded Joe is unsure about what to do.

“You want to carry her fat ass down two flights of stairs?” James clearly doesn’t.

Looking at the limp body collapsed at this feet, the redhead shakes his head vehemently. “Hell no,” Joe says

Together the two bookkeepers head out to search for their elderly patron, Don Lupenzo. Behind them, Wonder Woman breasts rise and fall in the slow rhythm of a sleeping beauty, all awareness cut off by a thought-free blackness that is all-enveloping.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
batgirl1969
Millenium Member
Millenium Member
Posts: 2456
Joined: 14 years ago

My God!!! I love what just happened to Supergirl!! Amazing!
User avatar
DrDominator9
Emissary
Emissary
Posts: 2456
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Thanks, Batgirl1969, you've been a loyal reader ever since this story first reared it's huge head. LOL.
Follow this link to descriptions of my stories and easy links to them:

viewtopic.php?f=70&t=32025
User avatar
TaliaAlGhul101
Neophyte Lvl 3
Neophyte Lvl 3
Posts: 29
Joined: 7 years ago

Ouch and down goes Diana. Well this rescue has certainly gone tits up lol. 2 months have already passed since Diana's capture? I might be reading that wrong or have to go back and re-read the previous entries in case i missed something.
Post Reply