WARNING:
This story is fictional and is not intended to portray any real persons,
living or dead, nor is it at all intended to encourage the type of activity
portrayed here. It is strictly a fantasy/parody, intended for the personal
enjoyment of those who appreciate female costumed characters in fear for
their life or the violation of their body. The story describes and/or hints
at graphic sexual situations, including bondage, violence, non-consensual
sex, and other elements unacceptable in certain communities. It is NOT intended,
nor is it at all suitable, for minors. If you are under the age of 18, or
if this type of thing offends you, you shouldnt be reading it. If you
are a person who does find interesting the material described above, then
I invite you to enjoy this story.
The story
contains characters of my own creation, but also characters who are the property
of various established comic book companies. Those characters are used without
any permission by the owners of those characters and are included only to
offer a fan's expression of those characters in a situation that would not
be seen in mainstream comics. This story is strictly done for non-profit
enjoyment by other fans interested in this adult genre. This story may not
be moved to, or included in any website that requires payment for content.
Glory
Girl
Episode
Six: Web of the Dream
Weaver
by Alias
the Rat
Part
One
Rebecca Hooper
and Arnold Belham were talking over the change in their relationship. Only
a week before, Becky and her parents, as well as Arnie's dad, had been the
prisoners of the master super-villain Professor Cargill. Patrick Hooper and
Thomas Belham had been on the verge of being brutally murdered. Becky and
her mother, Donna, were threatened with a future of endless degradation as
sexual slaves to the madman. When things seemed the worst, Arnie had arrived
to save them. The results of that adventure were totally changing the lives
of the two young people. They lay intimately embraced, naked in Arnie's bed.
Arnie murmured, "So, how are your folks taking all this?" Becky got a little
thoughtful. "Well, Mom was a little disturbed by how close we came to...
something really nasty. Dad is shaken up discovering how badly he was fooled
when he arrested your Dad. They both seem to appreciate more what they have
right now. They're much more romantic around the house. Guess they are just
reacting to almost losing each other. I have to be careful where I walk.
A few days ago I walked into the living room and they were making out...
not actual sex, thank god, but pretty passionate, on the couch. And Dad is
really wishing he knew more about you." Arnie's hand slid over to cup one
of Rebecca's breasts as he answered. "I know about that. He got together
with me for lunch..." Becky's eyes shot open when she heard this. "... and
he said he wanted a chance to talk with me without you hovering over
us." Becky opened her mouth to speak, but Arnie raised his other hand and
rested a finger on her lips. "No, I wanted to do it, Beck. He's your Dad.
He raised you. You will always be his little girl. He will always feel protective
about you. He wants to know if the guy who takes his place in your heart,
even partly, is good enough to deserve you. You may not like it, but that's
how fathers and boyfriends relate. I have to be good enough in his eyes to
deserve you." Becky groaned and said, "And I don't have any say in it?" Arnie
thought a minute. "Yeah, you do. But your dad has to balance what you tell
him about me with what he sees for himself."
Arnie slid
his hand down from the breast, along her belly and to her crotch. A couple
of fingers went into her cunt and quickly found a really sensitive spot he
knew so well. The fingers massaged and stroked that spot which drew some
shudders and a low moan from the blonde heroine. She loved when he did that,
and her body began to get very aroused, not for the first time that evening.
She murmered, "Oohhhh -- are you ready to go again?" Arnie chuckled and shook
his head. "Geez, Beck. We've been at it for hours. When you said you were
coming over tonight to reward me for rescuing you, I didn't think you were
gonna try to waste me. Little Arnie is exhausted." Becky coyly smiled, and
slid down in the bed. She took Arnie's dick in her mouth and began to suck
and use her tongue to tease at it. Arnie lay on his back and groaned with
pleasure. Soon Little Arnie heard the anthem play and stood at attention.
Becky got up and knelt over Arnie's prone figure and eased herself down onto
his shaft. She moaned as his penis once more entered her, and he began to
pump his hips up, slowly. She matched his movement and felt her vagina mold
to Arnie's prick. The growing sensations in her were matched by the pressure
felt by Arnie in his loins. He could not hold back long after an extended
period of sex, and he came in her. She felt him spurt his fluid into her
and reacted with a climax followed quickly by a deep, wonderful orgasm.
His cock relaxed, and she rolled
off his limp member. They both lay on the bed, exhausted.
Becky finally
asked. "Well, what did he talk to you about?" Arnie for a second forgot what
they were discussing, then it came back to him. "Oh, he asked about my job."
Becky snorted. "Really? He's asked me about that a dozen times. I keep telling
him you make good money designing computer software." Arnie replied. "Well,
I told him I have a salary of $75,000 a year at Pontaire Computer Integration,
I'm one-third owner in the business, and Microsoft and Apple keep trying
to hire me to do analysis and de-bugging for them." Becky let out a yelp.
"Wow! I didn't know you were doing that well! You must be loaded." Arnie
shook his head. "Not totally. I never went into details because I didn't
want you to just be seducing me for my money. The past couple of years I've
been spending a lot on Dad's lawyers and the investigators who worked on
his case. Two expenses that will now be eliminated. Guess now I can save
money up for my future plans." Becky poked him in the ribs. "What kind of
plans?" Arnie paused a minute before replying. "Well, back before our
relationship came out in the open, and we were trying to think of a way to
tell your folks that you were involved with the son of your Dad's worst enemy,
I was wishing I could get you to move in with me." Becky's head came up and
she had a huge smile. Arnie continued. "But you can't."
The smile
vanished from her face. "Why not!" she said, and groaned. Arnie sighed, and
took one of Rebecca's hands in both of his hands. "Well, ahhh... when you
guys were down in the bunker and Cargill was making his big speech after
he'd stripped the clothes off you and your Mom... Dad was chained to that
table and he... now you have to remember he'd been in prison for eight years
and hasn't even seen a women all that time. He... He got... horny." Becky
sat up. Even though she had just spent hours having sex with Arnie, she suddenly
felt the need to pull up the sheet and cover herself. She stared at Arnie
with her mouth hung open. He continued. "His hands were chained to the table,
but in his pants he had a hard-on that was killing him. He could barely
concentrate on what Cargill was ranting. None of you knew why he was so quiet.
And he kept staring at the two lovely naked ladies in front of him. After
I came in and got you two loose, while you and I were hugging, your Mom walked
past him to get your Dad free. My Dad was wiggling his prick around in his
pants to try and get some relief just as your Mom passed by. He came in his
pants." Becky moved a few inches away from him, screwed up her face and muttered,
"Eeyouuu. And this is why you don't want me to move in?" Arnie raised his
hands and shrugged. "Becky, since he's been released, he's living here with
me." Rebecca's eyes shot up, she screamed and dove under the sheets. Arnie
grabbed the sheet, pulled up the edge and looked at Becky. "He's not here
now, Beck. I told him he hadda go out tonight." Becky popped back up and
cried out, "You threw your own father out on the street just so you could
fuck me? That's disgusting!"
Actually,
as she thought about it, it made her felt pretty good. If Arnie was so crazy
about her that he would throw out his father to get in bed with her... But
he replied, "No, of course not. I just suggested that if you were coming
over, I wanted a little privacy and I set him up with a date. I called up
my Mom and asked them to get together and resolve things. She gave up on
Dad a year after he went to prison and divorced him. She stopped visiting
him and had my name legally changed from Belham to Staton, her maiden name.
She thought Dad would never get out and didn't want me saddled with a name
people would recognize. At the time Dad reluctantly agreed, even though it
broke his heart. That was one more reason he hated your Dad so much. After
high school I had my name changed back. So my folks will talk it over tonight,
and my Dad migt get back together with my Mom, if they can get over what
happened between them while he was in the joint." Becky leaned over and hugged
her boyfriend. "Oh Arnie, that would be perfect!" But Rebecca was about to
learn, perfection would soon be her curse.
Part
Two
Becky was
standing in her Glory Girl uniform when the board hit her on the side of
her head. Bells rang in her ears and lights were flashing in her eyes as
she crumpled to the floor. She was in some kind of building, dark -- a warehouse?
How did she get here? Why was she here? Who hit her? Questions just tumbled
through her mind in the short moment before the two-by-four came down and
again hit her, this time right on the top of her head. The world went
black...
Painfully,
she re-opened her eyes. A hooded spotlight hung above her, leaving her in
a brightly lit circle in an otherwise black room. She was tied down on her
back on a hard surface, a table top she thought. Her legs were bent at the
knees, over the edge of the table and she felt the ropes holding her ankles
tight. Her arms were pulled back behind her head and she felt the ropes secure
on her wrists. Her body was stretched in an "X" position, and though she
pulled as hard as she could, there didn't seem any slack in her restraints.
At least she was still dressed. A man, totally dressed in black slacks,
sweatshirt, gloves and ski-mask came out of the darkness that surrounded
the table. He came to the side of the table and leaned over her. His hand
came out and slapped her face. Once, twice, three times. She yelled at him,
"Stop that! Why am I here? Who are you?" The man didn't say a word, but grabbed
one of her nipples through her top and pinched it. That hurt, and Becky squirmed.
Then he slid his hand under her top and put it over her other breast. Again
he pinched the nipple. Harder. This time, as she squirmed, he clamped his
fingers tighter. Becky screamed. He let go, and backed into the darkness.
Becky looked around, but had no idea where the man dressed in black had gone.
He might have left, but he might be just past the edge of the light. She
lay there in terror, looking around into the darkness, and finally he did
appear. He had a small wooden box, about eight inches on a side, that he
put on the table next to her. He pulled a large knife from his belt and slashed
the front of her top open, revealing her breasts. He took out a small metal
clip and grabbed her right breast, attaching the clip to her nipple. It hurt
like hell. She was so afraid that he... Yes, he did the same to her other
breast. Again, the pain was terrible. Her head was not restrained, so she
kept pulling it up to see what he was doing. She saw him pull a length of
wire out of the box and attach it to one of the clips. Then he attached another
wire to the other clip. Her mind again was filled with terror as she anticipated
what she thought he was going to do. His hand spun a small crank on the side
of the box and a jolt of electicity went through her body. Her head jolted
back so hard it nearly knocked her out when it hit the table. Her body tensed,
and muscles pulled tight. The ropes on her wrists and ankles dug painfully
into the flesh. She gasped for breath. And then he spun the crank again.
Again she felt the horrible spasms of pain run through her. She lost track
of how many times he did that to her. Finally she felt him pull the clips
off her nipples. He took the box and again backed into the darkness. Becky
lay there, gasping for breath and covered in sweat. Who was this guy? Why
was he doing this? If he wanted something, why hadn't he said one stinking
word since... since... How long had she been here?
She kept
looking around towards the utter black area beyond the circle of light. She
hoped he was gone, but she feared he wasn't. He came back into the light
and leaned over her. With his face close, she heard him finally speak. "Are
you in pain?" She reacted with a little disbelief at the stupidity of the
question. "What?? You know damn well I am, you sadistic bastard!" He took
a damp washcloth and wiped her forehead. "Well, if that's the case, why don't
you just wake up?" Then he turned and went back in the darkness. She tried
to make any sense of his strange words. She wasn't asleep. This wasn't a
dream. Or was it? No, it felt too real. And that pain would have certainly
made her wake up at once if she was dreaming. The man reappeared. In his
right hand was a long thin needle. Again, he let Becky see what he held.
It was part of the torture. He swung his hand up to her face. Was.. was he
going to jab her with that? In her mouth... in her eye!? Her breathing grew
shallow as she watched him move the needle back and forth over her face.
Her eyes kept on it, watching the light glint off it. Then his left hand
suddenly grabbed her left breast and he brought the needle over and ran it
through Rebecca's tender nipple. She screamed again. Tears ran from her eyes
and the fire running through that nipple was excruciating. The man walked
around the table and stood at her other side. She looked at him and softly
murmured, "No. No. Please, no...." But he brought out another needle. Again
he waved it in front of her face. But this time she knew what he planned.
She tried to brace herself, to be ready for the pain. It didn't work. She
screamed again, as loud as ever. The man stood there watching the tears and
screams. Then he leaned down by her face and again spoke. "I wouldn't have
to do this if you would just wake up. Don't you want it to stop?" Again he
vanished into the black. With every breath, Becky felt the terrible pain
shoot though her breasts.
The man came
back. And Becky was even more horrified to see he held the little box. Her
body twitched wildly as she pulled at the bindings, but her ankles and wrists
would not come free. He took the knife out again and this time slashed away
her skirt and panties, revealing her most private of places. She saw him
pull the wire out of the box. But instead of reaching towards the nipples,
he went down to her lower lips. God, NO! He silently clipped the wire to
one side of her labia, then pulled the other wire out and attached it to
the other side of her clit. The pain from those two little alligator clips
was terrible. But when he cranked the handle on the box, she again arched
her body and strained helplessly again the jolt of electricity that ran from
her crotch through every part of her body. As he had done before, he ran
a jolt through her over and over. When he finally stopped, Becky's vision
was blurred and every single muscle in her body ached. Her breasts and crotch
felt like they were on fire. He looked down at her. "This is getting really
bad. You really should wake up!"
Again she
was left alone in her misery for a period. She could not tell if it was minutes
or hours. There was no way to measure the time. When he returned, he roughly
yanked the needles out of her tits. Then he bent down and used his rough
tongue to lick the blood away from her tits, and it felt like sandpaper on
her torture-sensitized nipples. He bent over her face once again. and said.
"You can't keep this up. You need to wake up." Then he held out one of his
hands by her head and blew a handful of powder into her face and her eyes
closed at the stinging.
Part
Three
Rebecca Hooper
opened her eyes in her own bed in her own room. She sat up and put her head
in her hands. God, what a nightmare. It was so horrible! The things he did
to her! Why would she have such a nasty dream, what would cause her to dream
about.... about what? It had been a nightmare, but all of it had suddenly
faded from her memory, the way dreams sometimes do. Maybe that was for the
best. She couldn't recall details, but she remembered it had been something
nasty. She swung her legs over to get out of bed and Rover lept up into her
lap. She gave the collie a big hug and felt so good that her dog was there
to greet her in the morning. Then she sneezed, and sneezed again. Darn! Still
allergic to pet hair! They found that out when she stayed over at a friend's
house when she was little. That was why she'd never been able to have a cat
or... or a dog... She opened her eyes. There was no dog. Of course not. She
never had a dog. Downstairs, Donna Hooper shouted, "Becky, breakfast!" Becky
put some clothes on and dashed down the stairs. She sat down at the breakfast
table and looked at the strawberry covered belgian waffles and licked her
lips. She cut a waffle, and brought a bit to her lips. But as she put it
in her mouth, it didn't taste right. It tasted like... toast, which was in
her hand. She looked down and saw she had toast and yogurt, like she did
nearly every morning. After eating, she went back upstairs. She felt a little
grungy, so she decided to jump in the shower. As she soaped up all over,
she twinged when she washed her nipples. They were still so sore where the
needles... the what? She stopped to think. Wait... what hurt? She couldn't
remember.
The day from
then on went perfectly. She watched TV and the shows were perfect. She went
shopping and everything went great. She had a cappachino at the food court
and it tasted perfect. She glanced at a clock and saw she had just enough
time to get home, as they were having a guest for dinner tonight. When she
got home, she helped set the table, and then Barbara Gordon arrived to join
the Hoopers for dinner, as she had many times. Babs said she brought a dessert,
and when Becky looked into the box, it was filled with belgian waffles covered
with whipped cream and strawberries. This startled her! She turned to Babs
and asked why she brought that. Barbara asked "Why Rebecca, don't you like
cheesecake?" And sure enough when Becky looked back she was holding a nice
little cheesecake. "I hope it's enough for all of us!" Babs said. Rebecca
was about to say it would easily be enough for the four of them, when she
looked up and saw she was sitting at the dinner table and Arnie was sitting
to her right. When did he get there? Across the table she saw Wonder Woman!
And next to the Amazon Princess sat the adult Rebecca Belham, who she'd met
in her trip though the dimensions. The other Rebecca smiled at her and said,
"Thanks for inviting me. I'm glad you have a chance to meet my children,
Jonathan and Emily." Sure enough, the next two chairs had a young boy who
looked like Arnie and a little girl. But as Becky looked over, the little
girl suddenly had the wrinkled face of her Grandma Emily. Becky's head spun
at the strange way her world kept changing and she put her hands over her
eyes. Suddenly a hundred voices all said, "Becky, are you alright?" She looked
up, then to her right. The table stretched to infinity, and sitting there
were her friend Leona, J'onn J'onzz, Stargirl, and dozens of Patrick Hoopers,
Donna Hoopers and Becky Hoopers -- all the ones she'd met in her dimension
hopping adventure. Becky blinked. and all of them were gone. Only her parents
and Babs were sitting at the table, and these three were staring at her.
Barbara put her hand on Becky's and said, "You alright, Beck? You seemed
to zone out for awhile. I asked you to pass the rolls and you didn't seem
to even hear me."
Becky shook
her head and blinked her eyes. "Sorry, Babs. Guess I'm a little tired. I
didn't sleep right last night. I had a nasty nightmare about..." About what,
she thought. It was really, really bad, and she could almost see it in her
mind, but the memory just was too blurry. The rest of the dinner was perfect,
right down to that delicious strawberry cheesecake Barbara brought for desert.
After they sat and watched television and talked about stuff for awhile,
then Babs had to go and Becky decided to get to bed early. She put on a
nightshirt and crawled into bed. She suddenly was shocked as arms reached
around and caressed her. She spun to see Arnie laying in bed alongside her.
Before she could say a word, he pressed his lips to hers and they passionately
kissed. He pressed himself against her, and she felt his penis growing hard
against her body. What a perfect end to the day...
Part
Four
Becky opened
her eyes and she was back on that tabletop, naked and tied down in the spotlight
that illuminating the center of the room. All of those memories came back
to her and she stiffened in terror. She now remembered every horrible thing
that had happened to her the last time she was here. Her head went back and
forth searching the darkness for her tormentor. She lay there for awhile,
the cool air chilling her body and making her nipples rigid. Finally the
same horrid man approached her. "Still can't wake up? What a shame." His
hand reached out and a finger brushed across first one nipple, then the other.
She gasped from the pain. They were still extremely sore from the torture.
He then put his hand to her crotch and stuck a couple of fingers into her,
pinching, poking and jabbing her in a way that was designed not to arouse
her, but to cause her as much pain as possible. Even as this went on, she
felt her opening beginning to lubricate. He looked into her face as he spoke.
"I used the box to shock you before. It's an old unit, that I have used for
many years on many prisoners. I have gotten sort of nostalgic about that
little box. But now-a-days everything is new and improved." He reached to
his belt with the hand not in her crotch and pulled out a small hand-held
plastic gizmo that had two little metal knobs sticking out of one end. Becky
could not figure out what it was, as she'd never seen anything like it. The
man in black brought it up to her and pressed the end with the knobs against
her side. His thumb hit a button and Rebecca's body jolted and twitched as
the electro-shock unit shot a charge into her body. This was even worse than
the shocks she'd gotten before. After her short contact with the unit, her
body spasmed in pain and she fought to catch her breath. The man reached
over with his other hand and slapped her face. He yelled, "Damnit, why don't
you wake up!" He slapped her again and again. And she laid there and wondered
why she couldn't wake up and escape this horror. Again he backed out of the
circle of light and disappeared.
Becky lay
there in pain, and shaking with fear as she knew her tormentor was waiting,
just beyond the edge of the light. She couldn't move her body, all she could
do was think. So that was what she would have to do to try to take her thoughts
off the suffering she was going through. She closed her eyes and wondered
-- was she asleep? No, the pain was too intense and her surroundings were
too sharp. But mostly, her tormentors constant attempt to convince her she
was asleep had to mean she wasn't. But he wanted her to think she was. Why?
Then there was the period when she wasn't trapped on this table. That was
the part that was so weird it had to be the dream. All those elements that
had faded in her memory came back as she concentrated. All the parts that
didn't make sense. That had to be the dream. And it kept trying to be...
perfect. That was what made it so obviously a dream. It was trying to be
too perfect.
She felt
his hand on her breast, and winced. She decided to see what would happen
if she played along with his scheme. Without opening her eyes, she groaned
and murmured in a soft voice, "Oh, God, I have to wake up." He pinched the
tender nipple and she opened her eyes. "Yes," he told her, "... you really
should." She saw he still wore the black ski mask, but was otherwise naked.
He climbed up on the table and straddled her stomach. He leaned forward,
resting his erect cock between Becky's breasts. He roughly grabbed her tits
and squeezed them together over his cock. He began pumping his dick back
and forth between the boobs as his thumbs twiddled and pressed the tender
nipples. She grimaced and groaned from the pain in her nipples as the man
roughly titty-fucked her. Soon his cock spurted cum over her neck and face.
He grinned and slid up on her until his ass rested on her sore breasts. His
cock waved in her face and she resolved to ignore it. Her head turned away
and she clamped her mouth shut. But the man reached back and one of his hands
went to her pussy. Three fingers went into her and grabbed and twisted the
edge of her cunt. She gasped as it felt like her crotch was being torn apart.
She knew the only way to make that pain stop. She turned her head back and
opened her mouth. He slammed his cock deep into her mouth and she started
to lick it and suck on it. His ass moved around on her breasts, and her she
winced at the sensations in her sore tits. His cock grew stiff and hard and
she struggled to keep all of it in her mouth. He ejaculated again and she
fought to swallow it as fast as it came. As he swung to the side and moved
to get off her chest, he said to her. "Why the hell can't you wake up? How
much more will you force me to do to you?" She closed her eyes and sobbed.
"I really want to. I'm trying. But I can't wake up!"
The man left
the circle of light, and Becky tried to calm her pounding heart. She wondered
if he believed that she was considering this to be a dream? Was there anything
else she could do? She ran what had happened through her mind, over and over,
trying to make sense out of it. She became certain that this was real, the
events at home were the dream. How could she change the way things were going?
What was the key? Of course -- it came to her. The powder. He'd blown a handful
of something into her face supposedly to wake her up. But that didn't make
sense. That sort of thing would be designed to put her to sleep, not to wake
her up. She then knew what she would have to do.
He returned,
once again dressed in black, standing on the edge of the light. In his hand,
was a coiled black leather whip. He cracked the whip and brought it down
on her ankles. She winced from the pain. Then he ran it over her again and
again, each stroke slowly moving up her body. When he reached her crotch
the leather stung her there and the pain was intense. But then he moved up
her stomach towards her breasts. They were already so sore and tender from
what he had done to them in the past that she could not help but writhe back
and forth, pulling as hard as she could against her bonds. But she could
not get loose and the whip began lashing across her tortured tits. With every
stoke she gasped and screamed as loud as her voice could go. She felt her
entire body was on fire and the pain was consuming her. Finally the lashing
stopped and she shuddered and twitched from the pain still coursing through
her. She didn't even notice he had left, her suffering was so great. And
it was only a brief period before he returned and again stood next to her.
He took one hand and ran it over her body. She groaned as the pain came back.
He held that hand over her face, and she saw the blood on it. The whip had
sliced the skin at several spots and she was covered with nicks and small
cuts. He brought his other hand up, and it held a small green bottle. He
grinned and held it where she could see the label. Her eyes could hardly
focus from all the pain, and she finally made out what it said. Oh, God,
NO! The man poured the lemon juice over his other hand, rinsing the blood
off. The fluid went over Becky's body and the hand came down to spread the
juice into her wounds. Becky's body burned intensely and she screamed harder
that she thought was humanly possible.
He passed
out of the circle of light, and she tried to compose herself after the ordeal
she'd just endured. She took deep breaths and the pain was still running
through her body, but she concentrated on enduring it. She saw the man reenter
the light, and noticed he held one hand palm up, cupped. The powder? If that
was next... She took several deep breaths, then murmured, "Oh, if I could
only wake up!" When the man leaned over her, he said, "Yes, it would be best
if you woke up." He put the hand by her head and blew into it, causing the
powder to fly into her face. But Rebecca had been waiting for this moment,
so she held her breath and closed her eyes tight. As she felt the powder
hit her face she exhaled a little through her nose to push any of the powder
out of her nostrils. She kept her eyes closed, relaxed her body and began
beathing shallowly, pretending she had fallen asleep.
She squinted
through her eyelids with her eyes almost shut and saw the man in black return
to the table holding a small basin. He took out a wet washcloth and began
to wipe down Rebecca's body, cleaning the blood, juice and cum off her. She
winced every once in the while, but the man didn't seem to care. He apparently
thought she was reacting in her sleep. Suddenly a voice came from the darkness.
"Does she suffer? I paid you a lot of money, Neculai Serbanescu." The man
in black peeled off his ski mask and turned to look at a figure who came
into the light. Becky did not dare turn her head to see who it was, but the
voice was one she'd heard before. The torturer spoke. "Don't worry,
Daraba. She is suffering quite a bit. And when
my process moves on to the final phase, she will suffer more than any person
has in history. That is what you are paying for and what you will get. But
ultimate suffering takes time to develop. I've only had her here for 36 hours.
You must be patient." Becky was stunned to find the man who had entered was
Arakim Daraba, the leader of the Brotherhood of Allah. The middle eastern
terror group had smuggled a thermo-nuclear warhead into the United States
only months before and without Glory Girl's intervention, would have detonated
the weapon in Granite City. Daraba was going to a lot of trouble to get revenge
on the heroine who had foiled his plans.
Through
her squinting eyes Becky saw the terrorist move to the table and watch Serbanescu
coontinue to wash her body down and clean up the prisoner. The torturer squeezed
a white cream from a tube onto his finger and began to apply it to her nipples,
where they had been pierced and to the nicks and cuts she'd gotten from the
whipping. Daraba asked, "Why do you do that? Let her suffer with open wounds!"
Serbanescu shook his head. "No, I want her healthy
enough to take a long period of torture. She will not get infections in these
minor wounds and escape me by dying. She is strong, and we will use that
strength to keep her subject to my process for a long, horrible time." Daraba
wanted more information. "I've paid you enough. What exactly will I get for
my money. How much will she suffer? I could have gotten anybody to torture
her. Word about you was you offered to cause the most misery for the longest
time for the right price." Serbanescu nodded. "That is my expertise. The
Corsican Mafia paid me to do this to the members of the Legion de'Liberte
in Paris. I did so, and the man who observed it went back and reported to
his bosses, who were very pleased at what I did. Those superheroes had captured
high-ranking members of the gangs and the crime families were thirsty for
the most horrid revenge possible on Madame Mystique, Marquisa du Gennesaile
and Henri de Rouge. All three suffered for years before their bodies finally
gave out. This is what you are paying me to do to the young lady. Not just
hours or days of misery, but years." Daraba smiled. "Excellent. How do you
do this?"
"I use a
process I have developed with the knowledge of years of practice in torture.
My work in Romania for the Departamentul Securitatii Statului was excellent
training. Under Ceausescu the government valued a good torturer." Serbanescu
untied Glory Girls hands, sat next to her on the table and pulled the upper
half of her body up. He leaned her against him while he washed down her back.
If the torturer had been there alone, Becky would have attacked him. But
her body was stiff and very weak, and Daraba was standing nearby. Her ankles
were still tied down and she could not chance a move against both of the
men. Serbanescu continued. "I use regular torture techniques on her to make
her suffer. Physical. Psychological. Sexual. And as I do so, I keep telling
her she is asleep and she must wake up. Eventually her weakened state will
make her believe this. In alternate periods of time, I place a metal hood
over her head that sends pulsations of energy into her unconcious mind. While
she does sleep, she is influenced by the sleep hood to dream of a wonderful
perfect life. After a period of time her own mind will retreat from the harsh
reality that she thinks is a dream and flee into the dream she thinks is
a safe reality. She will force herself into a deep coma that she will not
be able to escape from." The torturer laid the upper part of Becky's body
gentlely back down on the table and moved to retie her wrists. He then went
to untie her ankles. He lifted first one leg, then the other, washing and
cleaning them as he had done the upper part of her body. He twisted her at
the waist, in order to wipe down and clean the sweat off her ass. Then he
moved her back into the position she'd been in and re-tied her legs. While
he did all this, he continued to inform Daraba of what was going to be done
to the helpless victim. "Once she has entered the coma, fleeing from the
world of reality that was so awful to her, I adjust this dial on the front
of the sleep hood. Right now it is turned fully to the left, at setting one.
As I twist it to the right, her dreams will become worse and worse. When
she reaches setting ten, her dreams will be tortures that will be far beyond
anything a person could withstand or imagine." Daraba peered closely at the
metal hood the torturer was holding, and Becky also saw it with her squinting
eyes.
Daraba asked,
"What will she see in her dreams then? What exactly will you force her to
experience when you reach the later stages of the process?" Serbanescu replied.
"I do not know. That is the beauty of the hood. It takes the thoughts and
memories of the victim and feeds them into her mind, making her construct
the false reality. It seems very real to her because it uses everything she
remembers to build it. There is no way for us to see what she is thinking,
but it takes everything she trusts and loves to build a dream world she trusts.
After I twist the dial, she will be haunted by everything she would feel
is horrible and terrible. And the horrors will be very bad because the hood
builds them by using her mind to produce what she would fear the most. At
setting ten she will spend her days watching her loved ones being tortured
and killed. All of her worst enemies will have her at their mercy. She will
be tortured and hurt by people she thought were her closest friends, and
things like that. When I used it on Madame Mystique in Paris, she talked
in her sleep and I was able to hear part of what she faced. Her husband and
her best friend killed and ate her child. They whipped her and forced her
to watch them fornicate in front of her bound body. Her own father repeatedly
raped her. Her face rotted from leperosy. Snakes entered her vagina and squirmed
around inside her. Judging by her reaction to that sequence, I think Madame
Mystique was terrified of snakes. All of these things she went through were
much worse than any dreams I could have constructed for her. Only the victim
herself would know the worst things to fear." Becky, still pretending to
be asleep, felt Serbanescu lift her head and slid the metal hood onto her.
She heard a click and...
Part
Five
....she sat
up, safe and sound in her bed at home. A good night's sleep and she felt
really perfect. But no... the nightmare... the way she had been tortured
and abused. It started to fade in her memory, so she closed her eyes and
concentrated on remembering every nasty little bit of it. She would not allow
her mind to be manipulated the way that man, Serbanescu, wanted. She kept
her mind focused until she was sure that nothing would take those memories
from her. She heard her mother's voice come up the stairs. "Becky, come for
breakfast!" Rebecca stood up, and pulled on a t-shirt and shorts. Her body
ached as she recalled the ordeal. She kept thinking to herself, that was
real -- this wasn't. This was the dream where everything was supposed to
be perfect. But perfection wasn't real and she had realised that. It was
the "perfect" things that made her see the impossiblities. Why, even now,
she would be seeing what would be perfect, not what was real. In a perfect
world...
She got to
the kitchen, and saw her Dad sitting there, staring down at a plate of charred
eggs and sausages. Becky wondered how they had been ruined, and glanced to
see Mom at the stove. But it wasn't her Mom, it was Wonder Woman who wore
a frilly white apron over her costume and held a frying pan that was smoking.
Wonder Woman spoke. "I'm sorry, honey. I guess I didn't keep a close enough
eye on your eggs. Oh, hi Becky. Your toast and yogurt are
ready." Becky paused in the doorway,
taking this in. She guessed that even though she really loved her Mom a lot,
somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind she had a thought that it would
be perfect if Wonder Woman was her Mom. Weird. She sat down and grabbed her
toast. She noticed that it was burned black. Apparently in her thinking,
she couldn't believe that Diana could cook, so in this dream, she couldn't.
Pat Hooper got up and turned to Diana. "Well, darling," he said as he took
the Amazon Princess in his arms, "...I didn't marry you for your cooking."
Mister Patriot and Wonder Woman were suddenly kissing and groping each other.
Becky dropped the toast and clamped her hands over her eyes. She concentrated
her thoughts carefully. She did not think it would be perfect to have
Wonder Woman for her mother! And when she opened her eyes again, things were
back to normal. Her father was eating a perfectly prepared plate of eggs
and sausages and the usual toast and yogurt were on the plate in front of
her. Donna Hooper was there, putting a glass of apple juice in front of her
husband.
Becky ate
her breakfast and went into the living room. When she woke up back in
Serbanescu's clutches, she would have to find a way to get loose and escape.
That wouldn't be easy, Until then, she was stuck in this perfect dream. She
sat on the couch and tried to think of what she was going to do. But quickly
her perfect dream had Arnie sitting next to her, his arm on her shoulder.
Sigh. It was wonderful, but she could not hide in this dream with the perfection.
The perfection was not helping. She needed to fight that. This was designed
to suck her in. To trap her into wanting to live the dream. But she could
not allow that. She knew that the dream would only lead to horrors. The only
perfect solution was to concentrate on knowing what going to happen in her
dreams if she didn't fight it. And as she thought this, Arnie's arm slid
up from her shoulders and locked around her throat. He pulled at her and
cut off her breathing. She fought back instinctively, putting her elbow into
his ribs. He loosened and she struggled free. He came at her and she had
to put her fist into his jaw. He dropped to the floor. Becky's hands shook
as she realized what had just happened. Serbanescu had spoken of this. In
her dreams had she gotten to the part where he was giving her nightmares?
She looked around her living room, and Arnie was gone. She stood there, alone.
She thought that it was not the dream hood, but her mind that was doing this.
She was fighting the perfection and part of her was thinking about the prospect
of facing horrors here in the dream world. So she was getting a preview of
what she would expect to see.
She blinked,
and she was in a large building, wearing her Glory Girl costume. She heard
the crack of a whip behind her, and spun, expecting to see Serbanescu. But
the villainess, Catwoman stood there. "Alright, blondie. I had Batgirl and
the Huntress in my clutches and you had to ruin it. I owe you for that and
you will get payback right here, right now." The feline fiend snapped the
whip and it sliced through her costume into Becky's right shoulder. Becky
grimaced at this and took off at a dead run at the costumed criminal. She
could not stand back and allow the whip to rip her to shreds. She tackled
Catwoman and they went to the floor. Selina's hand ripped at Rebecca and
razor-sharp talons on her gloves put a row of gashes across Glory Girl's
face. Becky used her arms to push away from Selina, then brought a knee up
to smash into Catwoman's chin. The larcenous lady went down, and Becky followed
up with a kick to her ribs and a sock to her jaw. Catwoman was knocked out.
As soon as Becky stopped to take a breath, the criminal vanished and the
warehouse was gone.
She was tied
up and back in the auto yard! NO! She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to
make this stop. But when she opened them she was again tied up, but in the
basemant room with the nuclear bomb ticking away. Again, she tried to think
her way out. She was six years old, on a slick winter street with a truck
about to hit her. She was rolling around naked on the floor with Wonder Woman,
wrestling in front of Kagen Noll. She was tied on that table in Professor
Cargill's undergound shelter. She tried again to escape these dreams of horror.
She opened her eyes to her own living room, where she was alone. She took
a deep breath, and wondered what would happen next. But she sat there quietly,
and the dream seemed to had settled into a perfect, quiet day.
Part
Six
When she
awoke -- and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was waking up
-- she found she was tied face down now. Her poor breasts were pushed down
against the table top and her arms were stretched out tight with the wrists
tied securely. Her body was bent at the waist, with her legs tied down against
the table legs. When she heard Serbanescu move up behind her, she again went
to play along with his scheme. She moaned. "Oh god... why can't I wake up?
Why do I keep coming back to this horrible dream?" The torturer put his hand
on her back and whispered, "Just keep trying, young lady. Soon you will escape
this wretched dream and escape to a a perfect world as you wake up." But
she resolved to herself, I won't surrender. I will fight this as long as
I can.
Serbanescu
put his hands on her butt and pushed two thumbs into her asshole. His fingers
spread her ass cheeks and pulled the hole wide. Was he going to fuck her
in there? She couldn't see. But he just seemed to be want to poke, massage
and probe with his fingers. Then she felt him insert something into her ass.
It wasn't his dick, but something else. And her pussy also had something
inserted into it. She figured they were some kind of plastic dildos, and
they were pretty uncomfortable, but not too painful. Then he ran a strap
over her crotch and attached a belt at her waist to hold it in place. This
pressed against the dildos in her holes, so they stayed in place as she felt
them begin to vibrate. She wiggled her hips a little as the vibrations ran
through her body. It was very hard to concentrate on anything else, so she
didn't even notice the torturer leave the circle of light and come back after
she had been putting up with the buzzing units inside her for some time.
She felt her cunt moisten around the intruder and she stiffened and came
due to the vibrations running through her innards. Following this she continued
to be aroused by the vibrations. But she suddenly heard the whip crack and
felt the tip slice across her protruding ass. The sensations of the dildo
and butt-plug moving in her and the strokes of the whip across her butt drove
her crazy. She wiggled as much as she could, but the whip kept coming and
the inserts kept sending their vibrations through her. She came three more
times as the whipping continued. Then he put the whip down, moved behind
her and removed the belt and strap. He took the butt-plug out and used his
finger to swab some of her juices into the anus. Then he pushed his cock
into her and pumped her ass while the dildo continued to vibrate in her pussy.
She came again, and she felt his dick spurt his cum into her ass. He pulled
back and reached down to pull the vibrating dildo from her pussy. He tossed
it aside, then brought a hand down on her ass. With a wide palm he smacked
first once butt cheek, then the other. Here cheeks were very sore from the
whipping, and his slaps intensified the pain she felt.
While he
smacked her ass, his cock had been reviving, and he slammed it into her pussy
without any warning. He pumped in and out roughly and her body rocked on
the edge of the table. As he moved in her, he suddenly pulled the shocker
off his belt and pressed it into her back. She spasmed and twitched at the
jolt, and she felt her body weaken. She could hardly move anything, except
her crotch which was grinding in rhythm to his thrusts into her. He came
again, and shot his seed deep into her. She shuddered at this and moaned
from the pain and exhaustion that ran throughout her battered body. Serbanescu
bent down and untied her legs, then climbed on her back and sat on her back,
mashing her tits into the table. He reached up and untied one of her wrists,
then the other. He put the shocker against her neck and jolted her twice.
Then he moved down from the table and reached for her body, pulling her over
onto her back. Becky realised she was loose and tried to fight, but her poor
body could not seem to do anything. The torture and electro-shocks had sapped
her of all her energy and she could not even raise a hand to resist when
he stretched her out on the table back in a face up position. He tied her
wrists and ankles securely once more, and moved out of the light. She laid
there and sobbed while he was gone, depressed at the situation she was in.
She did have a short while where she laid there, and she thought her body,
though still very weak, had recovered a little bit. Then she glanced over
and saw the torturer, fully dressed, come back into the light. He again had
the whip and slowly lashed the front of her body, pulling the tip of the
lash against her legs, groin, stomach and tits. Every bit of her that he
hit was very sore and the continued lashing increased her agony. He spoke.
"Glory Girl, you have to stop accepting this horrible torture. Just relax
and concentrate on waking up!"
Part
Seven
Serbanescu
came at her once again with one hand cupped, palm up. She was waiting for
the powder, and was ready. Becky took a few deep breaths, closed her eyes,
and made sure she didn't inhale any of the dust. She pretended to go under.
As before, Serbanescu took the basin of water and a washcloth and cleaned
up the front of her naked body. Then he untied her wrists and sat next to
her, pulling her upper torso towards him to sit her up. As he reached for
the cloth to wash her back, he looked at her face. And saw her eyes snap
open, to stare back at him. He was stunned. Especially because he didn't
see fear in those eyes, but anger. He spoke. "So, you are a very tough opponent,
Glory Girl. Good, that makes my task more enjoyable. You are awake, and see
what is happening. But it is too late. You have been beaten and tortured
here long enough that your body is too weak to resist. Even if you hit me,
I won't even feel it. I still have you and you can't escape." Becky choked
out a snarl. "Wrong, asshole!"
Her hand
had gone to his belt and she'd gotten what she had wanted. She brought it
up to Serbanescu's neck and pressed the contacts into him, thumbing the trigger
of the electro-shock unit. His body jerked and twitched, and he fought to
stay upright. But she zapped him a second and a third time. His eyes glazed
over and he toppled forward. Becky did not have the strength to stay sitting
up, let alone to stop from falling back with the heavy muscular body dropping
on top of her. She groaned at his weight. She thought he was out, but this
was the most dangerous part of her plan. She had to put the shocker down
to wiggle out from under him, and was very afraid he would wake up before
she could do anything. She struggled, with practically no part of her body
that wasn't wracked with pain. She pushed at him and tried to wiggle her
body out from under him. Slowly, he slid over and she was alongside him.
She reached down to his belt and pulled the knife from its scabbard. She
paused as her gaze went from the blade to Serbanescu's neck. It would be
so easy to kill him right now. Just a simple slash across his throat. But
she couldn't do that. She wasn't a killer. So she struggled to pull herself
into a sitting position, with the muscles in her arms hurting like hell.
She doubled her body to allow her arms to just reach the ropes on her ankles.
With the knife, she sawed herself free and rolled off the table. She tried
to stand, but her legs just gave out and she crumpled to the
floor.
The torturer
could wake up at any time, so she crawled over to the dream hood and dragged
it back to the table she'd been on. Managing to pull herself up on her knees,
she slid the hood over Serbanescu's head and went over the components. She
found a switch plainly labeled "on/off" and flipped it. The unit hummed and
she hoped it would keep him out. She watched his face for a while, and he
seemed to be in a deep sleep. Suddenly there was a low buzz that came from
his belt. She looked over and saw a cell phone. She pulled it off and flipped
it open. Putting it to her ear, she heard, "Serbanescu, what progess? Is
she suffering? How soon will you report her utter defeat?" Rebecca recognized
Daraba's voice and spoke into the phone. "Sorry, but Serbanescu can't come
to the phone right now. He is... sleeping!" There was a long pause, then
Daraba asked, "Who...who is this?" Becky's anger raged as she answered. "You
know damn well who this is, Daraba. That's probably a really large amount
of money you wasted on this scheme. All for nothing. But I hope you try again.
Come and get me. Because when you do I'll be the one who gets you. I've stopped
you before and I'll keep stopping you until you're dead or in prison. DAMN
YOU TO HELL!" She heard the man on the other end hang up, and she angrily
threw the phone away. She heard it hit something and it sounded like it broke.
Shit! That was dumb! She could have used the phone to call for help. Now
she had to find a way out of here.
She tried
again to stand, but her legs just could not support her. With arms and legs
in excrutiating pain she crawled along the floor to the edge of the circle
of light. Once past it, she could make out a little of the room. No windows,
one door. Probably locked, and she didn't know where the key was. Even with
the dream hood on him, would Serbanescu stay out for long? Even now, was
Daraba on his way there to finish her off? Becky looked back at the floor
where she'd crawled. there was a trail of blood as the cuts the whip had
put on her knees had pulled open. She just lay there on the floor, weak as
a damp dishrag and wincing with pain all over her body.
But when
she had placed the dream hood on the torturer, she had not noticed she'd
brushed her hand over the intensity knob. It had been moved from position
one to position ten, which meant the dreams being fed to Serbanescu were
designed to terrorize him. In his mind, the Romanian was standing in a flagstone
courtyard. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed above him, and the rain pelted
him. Once this storm would have terrified him, but he had spent his life
overcoming his childhood fear of lightning. Even when a bolt crashed near
him, he was uncomfortable, but held his fear in check. He began to sense
that he was in the dream hood. So, the blond heroine was trying to hold him
helpless with his own invention! She was truly a formidable foe. But if he...
"But if you concentrate, you can will yourself to wake up. You have not been
weakened by torture, as your victims were." Serbanescu heard the man's voice
and looked to one side where stood the red clad hero, Henri de Rouge. "How
did you..." the torturer called out, "...why are you here? I defeated you!
You died! You can't stop me from leaving this dream world!" The crimson hero
of the streets of Paris cupped his hands by his mouth and began to give out
a high pitched squeal from his throat. The cone of sound flew at Serbanescu
and caused his head to throb. His ears and eyes pounded from the vibrations.
Henri de Rouge stopped, and called out. "You have to concentrate to escape
this dream. And we are here to see you can't. You will go mad in this nightmare,
receiving the same horrible fate you gave us." The Romanian had his hands
tight against his ears to try to stop the sonic attack when suddenly someone
behind him grabbed his wrists. He glanced back and saw it was a woman's hands,
but he could not pull free. He heard her voice and at once recognized it.
"Hello Neculai, my one time lover. Do you remember coming to Paris and fawning
on me -- telling me what an amazing heroine I was? I remember. I recall us
becoming friends, then lovers. Then you drugged me, tortured me and sent
me to a nightmare world where you destroyed my mind. Long afterwards, my
wretched shell of a body sat in that hospital until it finally gave out.
Did you think you would ever see your loving Marquisa again?" The torturer
did not reply. Now he was the one trembling with fear. Marquisa du Gennesaile
had her right hand holding his right wrist. Her hand slowly covered with
frost, them became ice. Serbanescu felt his hand and forearm begin to freeze.
Pinpricks of pain ran through the nerves as his flesh, muscle and blood froze
solid. The marquisa's left hand began to glow a bright red and then slowly
was covered in flames. Serbanescu's left hand and forearm were incinerated,
and charred flesh dropped from the bones. He screamed in pain as his hands
were destroyed. The French heroine who could control temperature with her
body still held him upright. As his mind reeled from the pain that ran through
him, he wondered if the third member of the Legion de'Liberte would appear.
And he looked out and saw her, the other heroine he had captured, tortured
and destroyed. Madame Mystique stood in front of him in her glory. Her dark
long hair streamed down her back, and her beautiful body was accented by
the lowcut black leather bustier, leather shorts that were split and laced
up the side, black domino mask and a long black satin cape. In her right
hand he saw she held a whip. It was the same one he kept as a memento after
he'd defeated her, and the one he'd used on Glory Girl. Madame Mystique spoke.
"You will not escape, Neculai Serbanescu. You trapped us in our nightmares,
and we will keep you here in yours. The only thing your mind will be able
to concentrate on will be the pain we will give you." And she cracked her
whip, over and over, shredding the clothes off the torturer and cutting the
front of his body to ribbons. He screamed. This was a scream that would last
until his body could not take the terror and his heart just stopped. The
heroes he had tortured had hung on in their nightmares for a long time because
even under the worst conditions, they had some hope. But Serbanescu had designed
this torturous process and knew there was no chance. So he gave up and died.
Rebecca lay
on the floor, not too far from the torturer's body, unable to bring herself
to even crawl anymore. Her eyelids were dropping, but she didn't want to
fall into another horrid dream. A dream of perfection. A false dream where
someone would burst in and rescue her. Then she looked at the door and saw
sparks and smoke at the lock. The door popped open and she saw Batgirl enter,
then stop to gasp as she looked down at Becky. Noooo... If she was back in
the dream, that meant he had her once again...
But the figure
came to Becky's side, put an arm under her and lifted her up to a sitting
position. "Becky, can you hear me. Oh, god, you look terrible." Batgirl pulled
Rebecca close and hugged her. "I'm sorry, Beck. I should have gotten here
sooner. I should have tracked you down sooner. Please hang on. Medics are
on the way."
The ambulance
and police arrived minutes later. Becky was taken to a hospital and after
a week she had recovered enough that she went home. While she totally recovered,
it took a while before she could close her eyes without being a little afraid
of what dreams would hold for
her.
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