The Adventures of Star Eagle

Chapter 5 The Eagle Soars

Star Eagle whimpered as the last of her assailants climbed off her. Tiring of his usual sport, Vlasov had unleashed all of his henchmen. Plying her with enough zentoc to render her helpless, he had allowed them to gang rape her. The ordeal had lasted all day. Covered in the sweat and filth of her ordeal, she lay exhausted on the bed. As the last man left the room, Vlasov chained her to the bed. But he was not interested in her himself. He had decided on one more little experiment. Taking out a full bar of baker’s chocolate, he suspended it on a string just a few inches from her nose. She could smell the alluring aroma of the drug but could not reach it. As the drool ran down her chin, she struggled desperately to reach it.

Vlasov laughed. “One of these days, you’re going to cease to amuse me bitch. And then I guess I’ll have to sell you. I think you should know that I’ve been offered several times what I paid for you. Its one of the best investments I ever made.” He laughed again. “have fun bitch. Maybe in an hour or so I’ll look in on you.”

“No! Please, master!” she screamed. The thought of being left alone while her zentoc withdrawal increased terrified her. What if he forgot? What if he left her too long?

The door closed. “No, master! Nooooh!”

The long drawn out wail was greeted by silence. She was alone. Trembling she tried to pull herself together. She had to resist. Had to. Fifteen minutes later, her screams echoed throughout the lower section of the warehouse where she was kept.

The two thugs guarding her did not even look up from their card game. Thirty feet away they could hear her terrible shrieks of agony, but they had heard those sounds many times before and had grown used to them. Besides, Vlasov had given explicit instructions that the howling heroine was to be left alone.

Vlasov grinned and sat back in his recliner. Lighting up a cigar he took a deep breath. “Nothing like a Cuban,” he thought. Too bad the average American was denied the pleasure. He looked at his watch. Almost an hour. The superheroine bitch would be screaming bloody blue murder by now. Setting down the cigar he started to get up. It was time to save her before her desire for chocolate tore her apart.

At that moment to door to his luxurious office opened slightly. One of his henchmen poked his head inside. “Boss there’s some redheaded broad here to see you. Claims she’s your daughter.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Tall, willowy, very attractive, very determined?” Vlasov asked.

“Attractive? Yeah boss,” said the thug enthusiastically. “Great little body. Wouldn’t mind…” He stopped when he saw the look on Vlasov’s face.

“Sounds like my daughter,” the crime boss said. “Show her in.”

Karla stormed into the room. “Alright, Dmitri,” she said. “I know you’ve got her. I want her released.”

“What,” asked Vlasov, sarcastically, “no hug for Daddy?”

“You’re not my father,” the girl spat. “Just the thug who knocked up my mother.”

“And after all the money I’ve sent you,” Vlasov said. “I’m hurt.”

“To hell with your money,” Karla said. “I’ve never touched any of it.”

“No,” said Vlasov. “You make your way with scholarships. But I’ve always been ready to help you.”

“I want none of your blood money,” she relied. “Now tell me where Star Eagle is. I know you’ve got her.”

“Star Eagle?” said Vlasov. “Never heard of her.”

“Lying bastard,” Karla said hotly. “I know you’ve got her. I’ve got my own ways of keeping track of things.”

“What if I have got the bitch?” Vlasov said. “What is she to you?”

“None of your business,” she said. “I just want her released.”

“You know,” said Vlasov, “your English is much improved. Have you been taking lessons?”

Karla seemed to become even more angry at this irrelevant comment. Leaning across the desk she glared into Vlasov’s eyes. “Don’t change the topic, you bastard. I want Star Eagle released take me to her right now.”

For the first time Vlasov seemed to lose his temper. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here like this. You’re on my turf. I could do anything I want with you.”

“That would be about your speed,” the redhead replied. Victimize your own daughter.”

“But you’re not my daughter,” said Vlasov rising from his chair. “You said so yourself. You’re just some stupid redheaded bitch that came charging in here looking for a thrill. I might just give you your wish.”

“Even a slime ball like you wouldn’t dare do anything to his own daughter, whether she acknowledges you or not.”

“Acknowledge,” Vlasov quoted. “Nice big word. Didn’t know you could handle English that well. Someone buy you a dictionary?”

Karla reacted angrily. She had bought a dictionary, at Melissa’s suggestion. And she was writing down every word she did not understand and making a list that she reviewed each day.

“Always with the jokes,” Karla said, her English breaking down as her fury got the best of her. “You laugh at everyone you hurt.”

“I haven’t even started hurting you,” Vlasov replied. “You have no idea what I could have done to you.”

“Like you did to my mother? Hold me down and rape me?”

“Rape? I just had a little fun with her. And look what happened? She gave birth to a lovely daughter.”

“You scum,” Karla raged. Raising her hand she slapped Vlasov hard enough to knock him back across the desk.”

“You fucking little bitch,” Vlasov swore. “You need to be taught a lesson and you sure came to the right place for it.”

Pushing a button on his intercom he bellowed into it. “Swenson, Orloff, get in here.”

The door opened almost immediately, and two burly men entered.

Holding his smarting cheek, Vlasov pointed at Karla. “Take this bitch down to the rec room and have a bit of fun with her. I want her taught a lesson she won’t forget.”

The two men looked at each other and then back at Vlasov. Clearly they thought that the idea of violating the boss’s daughter was not a good idea.

“Do it,” said Vlasov in a voice that suddenly went deadly calm, “or I’ll have both your balls.”

“Right boss,” one of the men said. “He took a step toward Karla.

The redhead’s foot caught him right between the legs. A look of surprise followed by agony swept over the thug’s face as he clutched at his gonads.

“Keep away,” warned Karla, adopting a martial arts stance.

The second man gave her a pained look and stepped toward her. Again, Karla’s leg flashed up, but this time her blow was blocked. The thug stepped inside her guard and delivered a heavy blow to her ribs.

Karla barely got her arm down in time to deflect the attack. Even so she was knocked off balance and staggered across the room, the thug following up quickly. Looking for a quick finish, the thug tried to tackle her. Karla twisted away from the attack and brought her elbow down across the back of his neck, driving him to the floor.

Vlasov looked on, his face purple with rage. At that point the door burst open and several more men flooded into the room. “Take the bitch,” he ordered.

Karla fought bravely, but there were just too many for her. She managed to block the first blow, but not the next. It knocked the breath from her, and in an instant she was swarmed by rest of the hoodlums. Lifting her bodily from the floor they immobilized her arms and legs, leaving her bucking frantically in an attempt to escape.

Vlasov watched the writhing body of his tall athletic daughter. Her long red hair whipped wildly as she fought to escape. Her white blouse had been torn open during the struggle, revealing a considerable amount of skin and her brassiere-covered breasts.

“Strip her,” he ordered “and then take her out of here and teach her some manners. I want her banged until she can’t walk straight.”

Karla screamed as her clothes were ripped off her, but she was helpless to prevent the thugs from stripping her bare. From the corner of her eye she could see Vlasov leering at her as more and more of her body was exposed. “You son-of-a-bitch, Vlasov,” she shrieked. He was watching his own daughter being sexually assaulted.

Vlasov smiled grimly as his daughter’s body was revealed. Damn she was gorgeous! Long limbs, firm rounded breasts, tiny waist. He felt like doing her himself, but that would be inappropriate.

Karla fought hysterically as she was carried from Vlasov’s office. Never in her worst nightmares had she thought that her own father would do this to her. Of course, she had never really known Vlasov. Her mother had discouraged all contact with the man who had impregnated her and Karla had never had much use for a man of Vlasov’s unsavory reputation.

But she had kept track of him, following his rise in the criminal world. He had held a certain fascination for her. She had, however, rebuffed his attempts to meet with her. She wanted no part of him. Especially not when she found out how involved he was in the sex trade. Her knowledge of his activities, however, had allowed her to discover what had happened to Star Eagle.

Her room mate’s disappearance had coincided with rumors that Vlasov had his own pet superheroine. And then there had been Melissa’s supposedly secret password. The heroine had overlooked the fact that Karla had installed a program on the computer that kept track of keystrokes. She was into Melissa’s secret site in no time, and although she had a great deal of difficulty navigating it due to the strange alien language, she had been able to determine that there was quite a large file on Dmitri Vlasov. From there it did not take her long to figure out what had happened to Melissa. Believing that her relationship to Vlasov would protect her she had marched into his headquarters, daring to beard the lion in his den.

But her gamble had backfired. She was now at the mercy of a bunch of smirking thugs who had carte blanche to do anything they wanted to her. As she was held down on a pool table and her legs were spread she now understood the full depths of her father’s depravity.

Orloff positioned himself between the struggling redhead’s thighs. His member was hard and ready. The boss’s own daughter. Somehow this made it almost better than fucking the superheroine. And this babe was gorgeous. Flashing green eyes, high Slavic cheekbones, full red lips, high perfect breasts, and a beautifully trimmed bush, outlining her sexual fissure.

“Ready darling?” he asked the trembling Russian girl. He grinned and cupped each of her breasts.

Karla shook her head. She was far too frightened to speak. What was happening was unbelievable. She was surrounded by laughing leering men. Their hands explored every part of her body. She was about to be violated and she had no one to blame but her own stupidity and overconfidence.

Then her legs were spread even wider, and the man stepped into her. Gripping her backside he thrust forward. Karla screamed.

Star Eagle did not even know she was still screaming. But the noise she was making would have ruptured the eardrums of any man who had the misfortune to be in the room with her. Her body contorted itself almost impossibly. Had she been human her ligaments would have torn loose and her bones would have fractured. It did not stop her, however, from rubbing her ankles and wrists raw, ripping the skin from her limbs as fast as it healed.

The shackles that held her, did not give. Vlasov had made sure that only the highest quality restraints had been used on her. Even her strength could not break them. They could not stop her from breaking herself, however. Delirious with the anguish of zentoc withdrawal she wrenched her arms unmercifully, not even knowing what she was doing. Her flesh gave way as she scraped it off right down to the bone, and then suddenly her hands were free.

At first her mental confusion was so great that she did not realize that she was partly free. But then one of her flailing hands made contact with the zentoc. Closing her fingers around the drug she crammed the entire bar into her mouth.

It was more than ten times what she had ever taken before. This time the drug exploded though her system, overloading all of her senses and searing her brain with a blast of hallucinatory energy that almost defied description. It was as if a star had exploded in the middle of her brain. Expanding outward it engulfed all of her senses. A white light blazed before her eyes, increasing in intensity until it blotted out all other sensations. Then everything went black.

When she awoke it was as if she had been dropped into a deep water filled well. It seemed to take forever for her to rise up toward the light, and her lungs strained to the bursting point. Then she exploded to the surface. Her eyes flicked wide open, glowing with a strange golden light. Drawing in air in great shuddering gasps, she looked abut her.

She was lying on a bed in a small windowless room. Her body was covered in blood and filth, and there were shackles on her wrists and ankles. The chains attached to the shackles, however, had been shattered; stretched beyond their breaking point by some enormous force. For a few seconds she looked about her, stupefied, and then a look of comprehension swept over her sweat stained face. She remembered everything. Kemper, the zentoc, Vlasov, her degradation and violation – everything.

She looked down at her body. Her breasts had been ornamented with nipple rings. She now remembered that too. With a look of disgust and ignoring the pain she tore them loose and tossed the rings and Vlasov’s jewelry across the room. Then touching her medallion, she restored her costume. She was once more dressed like a heroine.

She climbed off the bed and crossed to the door. Her body seemed to function normally, but she sensed that something about her had changed. What it was she could not quite grasp. But she knew she had to get out of the cell. She tried the door. Not surprisingly it was locked. She stood looking at it, gauging her chances of breaking through the heavy steel. Then from somewhere else in the building she heard a scream of pure terror.

That sound alone would have prompted her to do something. But she had an added incentive. She realized to her horror that she knew the voice. “Karla!” something screamed in her mind. Her next actions were almost instinctive.

She triggered her energy burst and hurled herself at the door. The impact ripped the steel door from its hinges, hurling it across the hall and into the wall. For a second she stood gazing at the twisted metal. She had never been able to do that before. Then leaping through the opening, Star Eagle dashed toward the direction the scream had come from.

As she swept through the hallways, she realized another change. The energy burst should have left her weak, but instead she noticed no difference in her strength. It was as if she had not called upon her special power.

The first men she came upon were two thugs guarding the cellblock. They faced her with guns drawn, but she was upon them so quickly that neither had the chance to pull the trigger. Seizing them both by their collars she smashed their heads together, noting the satisfying crunch and their skulls made contact.

Then she dashed up a flight of stairs and into the main warehouse section of Vlasov’s headquarters. From a short distance away she could hear Karla’s screams. Rage distorted her face. She headed toward her friend’s voice at a run.

Charging through a set of double doors she came across a horrifying and disgusting scene. In what looked like some sort of recreation room, her redheaded Russian friend was spread-eagled on top of a pool table. Each of her limbs was held by one of Vlasov’s thugs, and another man was between her thighs thrusting repeatedly into the screaming writhing girl. Surrounding her were a dozen or more of jeering henchmen. Star Eagle recognized them all as men who had raped her repeatedly.

A red veil seemed to drop before her eyes. She tore into the thugs before they even knew she was there. Striking right and left she sent the startled and panicky henchmen flying in all directions. The chains still attached to her wrists and ankles added to her attack, whipping like flails as she struck at her hated tormentors. She was absolutely merciless, striking hard and fast, each of her blows was intended to maim or kill. Within seconds the cowards who had violated her were frantically trying to flee the room.

Not one of them made it. Star Eagle blocked the door and then systematically hunted down the remaining thugs. A few tried to fight her, some tired to hide under tables, and many begged for their lives, but in the scarlet rage that consumed her, Star Eagle showed no mercy. One after the other she caught up with them and killed them. She felt no remorse about what she did. To her Traxtronian mind eliminating the men who had wronged her was no worse than exterminating a cockroach.

Then as the last man died, the rage left her, leaving her feeling somewhat weak. Her entire body was shaking with a mixture of feelings she had never had before. As Kludso, her Traxtronian teacher had taught her she was slowly developing human emotions. But she had no time to reflect on her personal growth. Karla sat sobbing in the centre of the room. The redhead was holding her hands over her vulva and was rocking back and forth from the pain and shock of her ordeal. Star Eagle went to her.

This was another area of human emotion that Star Eagle had not yet encountered. She knew that she should do something to comfort her room mate, but she did not know exactly what. Karla solved the problem for her. As Star Eagle touched her gently and hesitatingly on the arm, the redhead rose and clasping the startled Star Eagle in her arms, sobbed on her shoulder.

Star Eagle gently stroked Karla’s hair. She had seen women do this when watching TV and assumed it was the appropriate reaction under the circumstances. As she did so, she experienced another change in her emotional structure, compassion.

She did not, however, know exactly what she felt. She only knew that suddenly she was sobbing too. It seemed a perfectly normal thing to do. But a part of her mind was still quite analytical, cataloguing her reactions and filing away the information for further reference. This part of her mind reviewed the fact that during her short stay on Earth her rudimentary emotions had matured.

She had started out with limited, childlike emotions. She had curiosity, wonder, and a naïve sort of friendship. She had gone from that to fear, anger, and hatred; emotions that had not been programmed into her. Now she had added one more. How many more were left?

Vlasov rubbed the cheek his daughter had struck. The little bitch really packed a punch. Through the partly open door he could hear her screams as his men taught her a lesson. It was too bad he couldn’t participate, but raping his own daughter might be considered going a bit far even for a man with his depraved reputation.

It took him a few seconds to realize that he could no longer hear her. That was strange. Her cries should have gotten louder not quieter. Taking his gun from the desk drawer he stepped out of the room. The warehouse was quiet. Eerily quiet. He knew instinctively that something was wrong. Heading for the rec room he eased the door open.

Vlasov gasped at the carnage in the room. The bodies of his henchmen were scattered about the room like so many broken dolls. But it was the two women in the centre of the room that really caught his attention.

“Well,” he said. “Isn’t this a touching scene? He leveled the gun at the two startled women. “Graduated to women have you Star bitch? I’m not surprised after the banging me and my men gave you.”

“You god-damned piece of shit,” Karla swore. Her tears were gone. Ignoring the gun she advanced across the room toward him.

Vlasov grinned. “Think you’re safe with your heroine lover? She can’t protect you. I’ve fucked her black and blue the last week or so. One more step and I’ll put a bullet right through the middle of that colourful costume.”

“No you won’t,” Star Eagle said. Vlasov saw her tense her muscles as she prepared to attack.

“You’re forgetting this, aren’t you, whore?” he sneered, holding up a foil wrapped piece of chocolate. He grinned triumphantly as the heroine took a step backward.

“Helpless as a fucking baby,” he said walking toward her. He had her; he could see the fear in her eyes.

Thrusting the chocolate toward her, he backed her across the room. “I’m really going to nail your ass,” he said. “And I’m going to make my daughter watch as I do.”

“Your daughter?” asked Star Eagle. “You allowed your men to violate your own daughter? Isn’t that a contravention of Earth customs?”

Vlasov laughed again. He almost had the heroine backed into a corner. In a few seconds she would be at his feet. “In this world, Star bitch, I make the rules.”

Vlasov’s threat against Star Eagle had stopped Karla in her tracks. She dared not do anything that would endanger her friend. Stunned she watched as the man who called himself her father drove Star Eagle across the room. What did Vlasov have in his hands? It looked like nothing more than an ordinary piece of chocolate.

Vlasov stepped right up to the trembling heroine, holding the chocolate under her nose. She tilted her head back and away trying to avoid the addictive drug. “You want this, don’t you bitch?” said Vlasov triumphantly. “Well, you can have it, but first I want you on your knees.”

Slowly the heroine turned her head until her fascinatingly dark eyes were focused on his. “No,” she said very quietly.

“What do you mean, ‘no?’ I gave you an order.”

To Vlasov’s amazement Star Eagle reached out and took the chocolate from his hands. Calmly she crushed it between her fingers, freeing the powerful and enticing aroma. “Theobroma cacao,” she said slowly. “Food of the gods. I’m afraid that it has no effect on me.”

Stunned Vlasov merely stared for a few seconds. He felt a cold lump in his stomach as he realized that he was completely at the mercy of the powerful heroine. Then his reflexes snapped in. Jamming the gun against the belly of the heroine, he squeezed the trigger.

Or rather he tried to. Something was wrong. There was a terrible pain in his chest. Glancing down his mouth opened in wordless horror. Protruding six inches from his chest was the end of a pool cue. A wordless moan escaped his lips as he slowly turned around. As blood bubbled from his mouth, he beheld his daughter, the broken shaft of the pool cue she had shoved though him still in her hands. Gasping like a fish, he felt his knees buckle. Suddenly he knew he was dying and all the horror of the situation burst upon him. “No,” he gasped. “No.” Then he pitched forward onto his face.

Star Eagle took the shattered pool cue from Karla’s hand. “Karla,” she said. “I’m so sorry, he was…he was…”

“No,” said Karla emotionlessly, “he was never my father. Just the man who raped my mother.” She took Star Eagle’s hand. “Can we go home now?”

Wordlessly Star Eagle nodded. She helped Karla retrieve her torn clothes, and in hand the two women walked out of the warehouse.