CHAIN

I thought that an old abandoned slaughter house would be a great place to kill Gold. It was filthy and lonely. It still smelled of blood, death, and defeat. A century before I walked around the place at midnight in my spandex and high heels, the place had been full of poor stupid animals that were easily herded to their demise. That was perfect. The golden girl would die as helplessly as a cow. She would fight for life, but, in the end, she was nothing but cattle.
I ran the idea past Vixen.

“Hmmmm,” she pondered. We were dressed in regular clothes and sitting in her sports coupe. My perfect body in my form-fitting black skirt and heels had drawn attention from men as I walked to meet her, but now we were alone to discuss our superpowered issues. I had to graduate from being a seductress for a moment.

“Ok, you can kill Gold there, but I want Alley Kat at the tower. I need to watch my sister die.”

She was really into this “watch my sister die” thing.

“Anything you say, boss.”

She adjusted her sunglasses and pursed her red mouth. She had gotten pretty serious lately. When she first gave me my powers, she told me to go out and experiment.
“Have fun,” she told me. And I did. I went hunting for superheroines to abuse. Not kill. I just wanted them to see how powerless they really were.
I had fun with Pulsar Queen. She was quite a potent heroine, but I beat her. I must admit, it was such an ambush that we didn’t have much of a fight. It was more a matter of me taking her off guard and making her my bitch.
I made an appointment with her secret identity in the posh office that she used as a cover. She was lawyer in that life. Her lack of need for sleep or rest made her able to do the superheroine thing and be one of the best in her legal field. I walked into her world that day, wearing nothing as underwear below my suit. My perfect breasts were thrust up in a creamy cleavage, just like hers. I was playing it to the hilt.

“Oh, you must be Ms. Smith. Hi,” she greeted me. She was a beautiful, beautiful petite blond. Athletic. Slender. Busty. When she was in her identity of Pulsar Queen, those curves were hugged in a pink and black, wet-look, cat suit. A black triangle over her bust. A pink body suited torso. Perfect legs in that wet-look, glossy black cat suit material. High-heeled black boots. All one perfect cat suit.
She wore a utility belt around that narrow waist of hers.
But here she was in her business suit, talking to me about my legal case and what my options were. She didn’t know who I was really was. I knew who she was.

“One question, “ I said when she was done.

“Yes?”

“Could you put on the pink and black piece before I destroy you?”

There was a beautiful moment of confusion and panic; her jaw dropped. Before she could even speak, I was on her, my hand cupping her large right breast in my palm. God, that was a sweet, soft succulent tit. Natural. Perfect. She grabbed at my wrist, but instantly weakened when I released my pheromones. I loved using that power. I grew wet as she went slack against me. She went slack as her body was flooded with my sex chemical.
“Wh... who are ... you?” she whispered. Her eyes were wide. Those perfect, wet, glossed lips were pursed and open. I gently kissed her mouth.

“I’m Chain. I’m one of Vixen’s little projects. Ever hear how she was capturing heroines and taking blood samples? Well, she used those to create me. Get it? Ok, tell your secretary that you’re taking a long lunch.”

Her voice still trembling, she pushed the intercom and told her assistant the message. Sluggish and robotic, my stupefied little blond stood and walked out with me. She was a slave to my pheromones.
We ducked into an alley and changed into our costumes. She was now in that beautiful pink and black piece, while donned my red cat suit. Pulsar stood still, wet and willing, as I walked around behind her and clutched her breasts. They were wonderful - soft and warm. I clutched them viciously, digging my nails in, and whispered to her.

“Let’s go to your place, Chelle.”

And we flew. I lifted off the ground, dragging her by her breasts, and the two of us soared. Vixen had given me the power to fly and now I was using it and loving it. Cold air whisked over our hard nipples, our lean bodies. This was perfect. I wasn’t just a super-powered woman, I was the uberwoman. I could master each of them.
Pulsar Queen moaned and gasped, but stayed helplessly clenched against my body as we flew.
I carried my toy superheroine to the quaint suburban home she used in her secret identity. In a bedroom community, the place was isolated and quiet as we swooped down and entered through a window.

Two super-powered women now stood in a conservative bedroom in their costumes. One was a sexual slave, the other her new owner.
Pulsar mumbled her answers to my questions. She was standing motionless, staring straight ahead. Her hard nipples were jutting out in that slick, pink material.

“Feeling like a slut, Pulsar Queen?”

“Y... yes.”

“So, what do you want, slut?”

“F ... fuck me.”

“Hmmmmm. Dildo?”

“In the top drawer ... a strap-on....”

A huge moist spot was forming between her thighs. She was blond, curvatious, perfect and helpless.

I found the huge, pink dildo and harness. It looked smashing sprouting out from my spandex crotch.

“Get on the bed, fuck toy,” I told Pulsar. There was, Pulsar Queen - the heroine who had defeated the Congregation and Vixen - crawling on the mattress like a kitten. She thrust her hind parts up in the air and opened the crotch slit of her costume. Pulsar Queen - the heroine who could move faster than light and dispatched Gorgon when they battled - was on all fours, her cunt dripping, waiting to be fucked by a woman called Chain.

And I fucked her. Her cunt practically devoured the dildo. I grabbed those costumed hips, and I fucked her like a man. Drove my hips as she screamed and pumped her. My legs and hips worked overtime, thrusting with super speed and determination. She passed out screaming into the pillow.
I left her with the dildo sticking out of her and a length of chain around her neck.
When the chemicals were gone and I had flown, she would awaken and know I had defeated her.
Let’s see, then I pulled my action on Avalon. Sweet Hong Kong Avalon. Sweet tight body in her red and blue body suit. You know, l Iove those Asian martial arts women. Lithe bodies. Strength. Balance. They are poetry in motion, and so very lovely in defeat.
I found her on one of her late-night stalkings, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. As she touched down on the roof of a factory, I dove on her, delivering a flying side kick to her lower back. She fell, rolled, came up ready to fight. I didn’t fight fair, I must admit. It wasn’t a fight, just a sweet beating. I have super speed, and she doesn’t. That means I just took her apart.
I was a red blur. She was a woman in pain. I moved so fast, she seemed to be moving in slow motion. Her head was snapped backwards. She doubled over, clutching her tight belly. Her face was lashed from side to side, blood and spit flying. She up against the wall, too shocked and overwhelmed as I drove two fingers like a machine into her sex. Over and over and over.
Avalon also got a length of chain around the neck.
She was limp when I finally grabbed her by the hair and flung her out into the cold night air. I heard the splash as she finished her descent into the river.
I took a quick trip out to find Thunder.
Few things look as good as Thunder in that purple and yellow PVC skin-tight of hers. With the mocca skin of her Asian, black, southern European heritage and her thick, black hair, she was delicious piece of work. I wanted to not only defeat her, but make art of her.
When I found her, flying over the bay, I took a moment to just loo at that perfect figure in the moonlight. Silently soaring over her, my eyes traced the curve of that tight ass and those long, developed legs. Again, I was wet and trembling.
One big swoop. I caught her around the waist, closing my arms in a death grip. Shock overwhelmed her, and I took us into a dive. By the time she actually started to struggle, the icy waves were closing over our heads. She battled me beautifully, blasting me with a jolt, only to have it sent right back into her. There was nothing - no power, no degree of super strength - Thunder could muster that would keep me from closing my hands around her throat and squeezing with all my might.
Underwater.
In the dark.
In the tomb of suffocation.
Thunder passed out.

Nobody was there to see me drag Thunder out of the surf. It’s shame; that long, wet, lean body glistened in the moonlight like a true thing of beauty. I took her to the rusted, forgotten shell of an old cannery. It still stank of fish and rot. That’s where I hung her. With chain running between those thighs, around her waist, between her breasts, and around her neck, I left her suspended from the girders that ran above. Head hung, wet hair drooping, I left her swaying in her chains.

That was my fun. Now I had work to do. Vixen informed me.

“I want you to start hunting them for real tonight. I want you to kill Scorpio first. I want you to wear the costume and I want you to catch and destroy them tonight.”

She looked me in the eye.

“Do it yourself. Do all of them yourself. But when you catch Alley Kat, call Thrust and the others. You know what I mean, right?”

“You’ve got it.”

She looked back to the view that her front windshield provided of the city scene. She was tense, grim. Vixen was so driven that she couldn’t really enjoy being a super villain. As for me, since I’d gotten the powers of all of these heroines, I was having a blast.

“I want them to die. I drained their blood and gave you the distilled potion so that you could kill them, Chain. It’s your birth right.”

I smiled. I wouldn’t let mom down.


That night I showered and dressed for an evening on the town. I took a moment to look at myself naked in the mirror. A few weeks before I would have seen a frail, blond waif. I would have seen a body that begged to be dominated and overrun. But that was before the tests and injections. That was before Vixen gave me new life. Now she was my Frankenstein. But, unlike poor Victor, Vixen’s creation was beautiful and proud. I was sex made real. I was power personified. She had linked all of the powers of these heroine sluts together into one, powerful Chain.
I was the offspring of them all. The heroines she had captured over time contributed their genetic material to me. Each, with her powers and strengths, was a link in my chain.
My body was perfect; I was a high-breasted, athletic jungle cat of a woman. I fit with sensuous ease into the second-skin shocking-red body suit that was my Chain costume. It rode each curve and showed the world the outline of my nipples, my crotch, my ass. It allowed me a naked sort of movement. Leaping, flying, running, and fighting were in no way beyond my reach.
Kneeling on the floor in front of my fireplace, I meditated for a moment on Scorpio’s photo. Japanese-American female. Extremely dangerous martial artist. Mystical powers over everything relating to sex and death. She had foiled Vixen and others one too many times.
“Goodbye, Scorpio.”

I tossed the photo in the fire.

SCORPIO

I could smell burning leaves. Somehow, in the middle of the city, in the middle of the night, someone was burning leaves - creating that great autumn smell. I reclined against the church steeple and breathed in the pungent night air. Not a single flame was visible, but there was a pyre of leaves burning out there somewhere.

I waited.

“I love that smell,” came a placid voice from behind.

“Same here. Reminds me of growing up in New England,” I replied. “The same thing for snow. Love to see it snow.”

“Mmmmm. Yeah. So, you’re supposed to kill me?”

I stood slowly, dusting off my costume.

“Yeah. All of you. I’m going to kill all of you. Don’t worry I’ll make it quick.”

I moved with super speed, darting a stiffened finger at her throat. Scorpio, in her deep blue and black costume, thick, black Asian hair blending against the night sky, was faster than I’d expected. There was something almost lyrical in the swiftness, the fine-tuned balance. Beautiful and Asian in a her midnight blue body suit, she was at one with the martial arts that she wielded.
She dodged, blocked my shot, and struck me with a palm strike to the chin. An average woman would have had her C6 vertebrae broken. I just pitched backwards, slamming into the brick of the steeple. The bell ringing out dismay at being dislodged from its home, I tumbled with it and a shower of brick off of the roof.
As I regained my feet, I caught a flying side kick in the jaw. Again, I fell and rolled.
We were both on our feet.

“You’re good, Scorpio.”

“Thanks. Not bad yourself.”

She leapt over my low kick, saving her knees from destruction, and snapped off a low round house kick that broke one of my ribs. It was super healing as I struggled to my feet. She kicked me again. And again.
This wasn’t turning out the way I was expecting.

“I’ll give you a moment to heal,” she said. In second or two, the bones had fixed themselves.

“Is that the idea of a sporting chance?” I chuckled.

“Call it what you will.”

We struck at the same time, nailing each other in the mastoids. Both of us staggered, but she moved faster to recover. She hit me with a inside-to-outside kick that crashed down on the side of my head, and put me on my face in the soil of a fresh grave. As I came up, she caught me in a judo throw, sending me to my back. I instantly kicked up, striking her in the face. Her gasp of pain was beautiful, as was the backwards roll she did.
Scorpio stayed low, taking advantage of her position. She swept my legs, this time with a vengeance. I crashed hard against a stone.

“You should rethink working for Vixen,” she said. Her voice was still gentle.

“Naw ... I thought it over. I’m okay with it.”

Blood was pouring from my mouth; that bitch really hurt me. I have a super healing capacity, but it still hurt like the dickens. I as pulled myself up, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by her placid nature. She really had the Zen thing going.

“Then I’ll have to kill you,” she said.

I saw her start to move, then sat dumb-founded as she stopped, stiffened, shuddered, and simply collapsed. Her body was beautiful in defeat. Sleek lines and thick hair seemed to tumble like leaves carried by the fall wind. She sprawled on her side at the foot of a fresh, open grave. Smoke rose from her defeated body, curling from the arch of her hips and the slender curve of her torso.

“Rage?”

I was so angry.

“Yeah, it’s me. I figured you need help.”

As I was regaining my feet, my big brother dropped his stealth shielding and stepped forward. No longer invisible, he showed himself - massive and muscular in his black body armor. Just like Thrust, he was one of Vixen’s Homeric Warriors - hyper-masculine steroid freaks with a myriad of powers. Rage was the one who could actually focus his intense ‘roid rage. The chemicals generated in his brain elicited a response from the suit sensors, which were jacked into his endocrine system. He could produce of a burst of energy that was lethal.
That’s what he used to blast Scorpio from behind.

“I was doing fine!” I snarled.

“She was beating you like a rented mule, little sister.”

He towered over her fallen form. It was a gorgeous contrast. He was like a walking wall, she a perfect female sculpture of delicate lines and refined, toned muscle. Moonlight shinned on his bare scalp, while the crisp wind played with her thick, raven hair. She looked totally helpless crumbled between his tree-trunk legs.

“ I was fine.” I was limping. “ I had her.”

“Bullshit.”

“Vixen wanted me to kill her! Me!” I yelled. My voiced echoed in the dilapidated grave yard.

“So do it.”

I looked down at her for a moment. Rage reached down, took a handful of hair, and lifted her up like a hunter's fallen prize. Her body was limp.

“Want to watch me fuck her first.”

I looked around for a second. When I turned back to him, his cock was already out and being stroked. It would be great to see her suffer before the death, but I wanted this to be all me.

“No. Throw her in there.”

I indicated an open grave.

“Dig it deeper. Six feet deeper. Bury Scorpio alive in this grave yard. Make sure she’s out long enough to stay out, underground, and suffocate.”

He dug the hole in a good flat five seconds. Rage made it a point to pick her up by the crotch, hold her high, then drop her down twelve feet. He shot her again. And again. And again. Each time, she shook like an epileptic, stiffening and shaking.

“There.”

Dirt in the hole. She was buried. The next day, a family would bury their father over her. Below him, and his dirt, and her dirt, Scorpio would be a forgotten, dead woman.

“Ok?” smiled Rage.

That hurt a bit. I grimaced as I said it.

“Thank you. Good job. Now let me have Gold by myself.”

He held up his palms in a gesture of compliance.

“She’s all yours.”

GOLD

I could have looked at Gold all day. She was the meaning of statuesque. Standing a full six-feet-tall, she had the body of an athlete/warrior. Her thick, toned, conditioned muscle wasn’t in the least bit masculine, just powerful and strong. On the contrary, she was a feminine goddess with perfect, large, round breasts that stood forward. They were firm and supple. Her figure was a perfect hourglass.
The costume she wore was part of her powers. Gold was the recipient of magic from a tiny circle of Nordic witches. She could fly, read minds, project magical bursts of energy, and create energy fields. She also had that suit. Gold wore a costume unlike any other heroine’s. Stripped nude, she would lift an eternally-full decanter given to her by the witches and pour a gleaming gold liquid down over her bare body. The first drops would strike her forehead, then move like living, liquid latex all over her body. It formed a mask, leaving her lower face exposed, at the same time it formed high-heeled boots. It conformed to each inch of her as a second skin. Gold was still essentially nude, but protected by a sheath of skin-tight, golden magic that allowed that perfect body to move with an agile flow.
Bullets, blades, and most magical weapons couldn’t pierce that golden skin.
I knew all of this because of the video. When Vixen was prepping me to go out and kill superheroines, she had me sit down and watch a VCR tape she had made.

“Gold has been my guest on a few occasions,” Vixen told me. “When I’ve captured her I’ve either tortured her or used her for experiments. Even though she’s escaped, I did get this. Listen, watch, and learn.”

The video clicked on, hissed with snow, then displayed a beautiful sight. There was Gold, standing tall in her golden sheen. Her blond hair was perfect and curly, swept down over one shoulder. She stood stock-still like a soldier and stared blankly ahead. A flashing strobe pulsed from somewhere off camera.

“The strobe light is my soul bender,” Vixen informed me. “I captured her by ambushing her with it. It’s a simple tool. It sends a high-frequency pitch into the inner ear and matches it with a pulse and a light flash that bring the female human brain under control. Very simple.”

I watched as the paralyzed golden woman muttered answers to questions posed by her captor. With no will of her own, Gold explained each point of who she was. She explained the magic, the suit, the powers. She told all.

“How can I make sure to always defeat you? Not just capture and control you, but destroy you?” asked Vixen.

“Sex. My weakness is my sex drive. Make me crumble by way of my cunt.”

Vixen froze the film.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“Yes. How did she get away?”

“ Don’t worry about that, I just want you to hunt her down and destroy her this way.”

So, I would use my pheromones again. Perfect.

It’s all in the timing, you know. When you take out a heroine, you have to hit them when they least expect it. I stalked that beautiful blond, then waited. I waited for her to get engaged in a sweet battle. I waited for her enemy to get the best of her.
She fought with Incubus that night. I crouched on a roof top and watched Gold get defeated. This was good. Incubus and Succubus, both powered with sexual forces like mine, had defeated her on several occasions. When the fight was about magic and martial arts, neither could touch her. But once they produced their pheromones, she was all theirs. Incubus had Gold cornered in a posh hotel room. He was about to take control.
The game went on all night. I watched as she delivered a kick to Incubus’ chin in a crowded restaurant. Secret identities gone, horrified crowd watching, Gold battled her arch foe. He went flipping back, landing on a table and crushing it. She moved forward, only to end up blinded and stunned by the Incubus, her eyes caked with a shot of his thick cum.
The patrons watched as he beat the heroine with a few well-placed kicks and ran.
In a few minutes, she was up and soaring after him.

“This is getting good!” I said aloud.

She stalked in a warehouse later that night. This was great. It was dark and quiet. She prowled through the junk and trash seeking the Incubus, and you know, she found him. Moving like the wind, spreading the pheromones, he came dashing in behind her and plunged his cock through her costume. He bent her over and filled her ass for the length of two quick strokes. Then her was off.
He had fucked her en passant.
Later, she found him in that posh hotel room.
I smiled and giggled as she produced a cage of her golden magic that imprisoned Incubus. Suave and nattily- dressed, smiling and swaggering, he simply smiled.

“Time to suffer, bitch.”

There was a ripple that went through me as he snapped his fingers. Six-feet-tall, thick golden hair tumbling, Gold shuddered. She tilted her head back, opened her mouth. Those powerful legs trembled. Gold fell to her knees. Such a delight! That powerful woman, nipples hard and limbs shaking, was under his spell. Her magic went away.
Once again, I wouldn’t get to subdue the heroine. The trade-off was a great show, though. I sighed and guessed I’d make up for it with Alley.

“Guess I have you again. Let’s see....”
He stood close to her. He stood close to Gold, and opened his designer pants.

“What do you think?” he asked, letting his massive cock hover by her face.

“I’ve ... seen ... it ...before...” She was struggling against herself. As if pried by some invisible force, her full mouth slowly opened and she leaned forward. She was compliant as he shoved his cock into her mouth and began to thrust his pelvis forward. His hips bucked and her head moved for only a few minutes, then he pulled back to give her the rush straight in the face.
Ice cold and thick, Incubus’ cum flowed out like a fire hose. Although his cock was no bigger than an average man’s, he could produce inhumanly copious amounts of cum. Moving with a life of its own, the spunk wove its way into the woman’s hair. It spread over her shoulders and across her back. Gold’s face was first the face of porno starlet - splashed with cum - then it was a death mask, as each perfect feature was encased in goo. Big round breasts, a powerful six-pack set of abs, long legs, full lips, strong arms were all part of a creamy white statue now, as the cum hardened.

“I call it ‘Gold Kneeling’.” he laughed.

It was about that time I cam through the window. Incubus looked shocked for the second I left him conscious. One blast was enough. As he tumbled to the carpet, I sauntered over to begin Gold’s second defeat for the night. I crouched in front of the helpless woman.

“He really got you, huh?” I said to deaf ears. I could smell that salty-sweet cum smell. “Poor Gold.” I paced around her. This was the woman who had defeated one villain after another. She was mine now.
Again, I stood in front of her. I released an energy burst that simply vaporized his thick cum. Gold released a deep rush of trapped air and toppled to one side. She lay there panting and wet.

“Gold,” I said.

“Yes, I know. You’re here to kill me.”

She gasped as I picked her up by her throat and help her off the floor. I moistened at the sight of that long body held up in midair. I cocked my arms, then tossed her like a dummy. She smashed through the marble bar and lay motionless in the wreckage.

“Now I’m having fun,” I squealed.

I stepped over Incubus, walked to Gold’s supine form, and picked her up by her throat again. With one hand I held her in place, with the other, I delivered a roundhouse punch that sent her spinning. Before Gold could hit the floor, I grabbed a handful of blond and snatched her backwards.
She hit the wall with a beautiful, loud thud.
I stepped back.
With her lips parted in a slack, pursed gape, and her eyes vacant and staring off into nothing, the tall blond, with her perfect body and powerful build, slid to the floor and dropped into unconsciousness.

Again she was helpless.

“Gold,” I said, “I’m going to take you now.”

I scooped up that body like I would a sleeping child’s. It was a beautiful scene. With one arm hooked under her knees, and the other under her back, her limbs hanging slack and her head sagging back, she looked like a fallen female in some 1950s sci-fi film. The only difference was that she was the hero, and nobody would save her.

Gold’s cunt was perfect for the type of torture I had devised for her. She had big, thick outer lips that pouted and nice, thick inner lips. Best of all, she had a nice, long clit. It was a big, gorgeous, blond vagina. I found it easy to attach the stimulators. Simple little pieces of technology, they would jangle her nervous system and stimulate her sex. Each time she came, the energy released by her body would fuel them and casue them to work even harder.
Two, I secured on to her labia majora, stretching those big lips out. One, I clamped to the clit. I crammed a probe into her cunt and one into her asshole.
As Gold began to stir, I was placing the anal probe in place.

“So, you’re Chain,” she groaned. Her arms moved only slightly in the shackles. I had her arms up in thick chains and cuffs. Two right angles forced her thick biceps up into peaks. Those long, golden-gloved fingers were limp and curled.

“Yes. I’m Chain. I carry....”

“My blood. I know. Vixen drained me along with others to create you. You’re connecting erogenerators to my cunt.”

I smiled and pointed at her with both fingers like a gameshow host.

“Very good, Gold. You get the prize! You get to die!”

I brushed my fingers over the clamps and began the process. Juice gushed from the heroine’s vagina. Her eyes narrowed and her lips trembled. I couldn’t resist reaching out to cup her breasts as those big nipples grew hard and thrust forward in her liquid skin costume.

“Are you ready to cum to death, Gold?”

She couldn’t answer as her legs shook and her whole body convulsed.

“This time, Gold. You actually get to die.”