Cutlass

By Mr. K

4- Man of the House

I drowned Cutlass in the toilet. I used both hands, and I dunked her face, her whole head, really, down in the toilet. I held her underwater until she stopped moving, until she went limp.

First, I clutched her around the neck with both hands, squeezed that throat, and dragged her across the tile of the master bathroom. Her long legs struggled and kicked, and she grasped at my wrists, but we both knew that she was overwhelmed. Her face reddened and those thick lips pursed forward. It was as though her mouth was working on its own to try to nourish her starving brain with oxygen. All it did was make her look like a stupid little sex toy.

“Something wrong, slut?” I asked, tilting her head down towards the rim of the bowl. I let us linger there for a moment, so that we could we could look at our reflections. We both knew that her powers were drained and that she was under my control.

I smiled.

I thrust her head into the water of the toilet with my hands still clamped around her throat. I crushed and I pressed I pushed her down until she stopped moving.

Ok, wait a minute. Let me start this story at a different point. That way, you can appreciate the moment of victory and the unconscious redheaded heroine with her head in the toilet.

Let me start with me talking to mom. Let me start with both of us sitting on the dock, drinking coffee and looking at the morning mist rising on the lake.

“So, you created all of this?” she smiled. She indicated the lake, the woods, the spacious cabin behind us.

“I did. I used the powers that you gave me. You created me to do great things,” I told her. I felt something hot and proud rise in my chest when I looked at mom. Some might say that she was frumpy and grey, but she seemed to glow with a certain radiance. She smiled and I felt the warmth of her magic. She was my mom, and she was beautiful.

“I didn’t create you, love. They did. I tried to do what I could to help … to … I hoped to build on what they had created,” she said. “I wanted you to be your own man. I wanted you to be your own man.” Her voice was suddenly small. “Someday soon, Cutlass and her sisters will come to reclaim Dagger, and ….”

She looked concerned, worried. “I don’t want you to be harmed by her and her sisters,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” I said. I must have beamed with the confidence that I felt welling up inside. I touched her hand. “Do you know what they called me? Do you know what they called me before you found me and rebuilt me? I was ‘BIOWEAPON 442.’ That was all I was to them. You named me ‘Ben.’ You gave me magic – powerful magic to go along with their powerful science. You took a science experiment created by the government and you gave me meaning. I want to honor you.”

I sipped my coffee, then shared a certain gift I’d been saving up for her.

“You know, mom. Some other superheroines dropped by for a visit. After I made this sanctuary appear -after I built this place for us – these superhero women showed up to take it away. They came through my dome. They came to battle me, mom. They were looking for you and for sis. They wanted to find Dagger – Taylor- also. I had to do great things with them. It was last night. It was a battle. I was happy to do great things to them. They must have felt the impulses of the spells that I used to make this place, and that drew them here. I had to take care of them.”

She looked worried.

“Don’t worry. Let me show you what your bouncing boy has done. Let’s go to the other dock.”

I took her hand guided her from where we sat to the deck on the other side of the house. Mist was still rising from the water, and birds were calling to each other from the tree line. Later, when I was holding Cutlass’s head under the toilet water, I thought about the peace and the grace of that moment – me walking with mom.

“You just never know,” I said to my mom, reaching out to touch her. “Here. Let me show you the aftermath of a little tiff I had with some superwomen.”

We came up to the dock, and I asked the mist to part itself as though it were a curtain. She could see the silhouettes of women. You could see, even in mist and shadow, that they were laid out in defeat, but I really wanted her to see this scene.

The superheroine named Maxim was on her back, just as I left her. She still wore the body suit that looked like slick, white spandex with its vivid red M splayed across her chest. Her dark hair was sodden, and it gleamed in the early morning light as she lay there unconscious. I got a little tickle of excitement when I recalled how I took control of her body and slung her around like a ragdoll.

“That was fun,” I laughed, recalling how she charged at me, only to find herself seized by my powers. Her arms locked to her sides and her muscular legs became straight and stiff. I said the word “lift,” and she was suddenly twenty feet up. I twirled her left and then right, then upside down, the back over the forest. The whole time, I recounted for mom, her model’s face was in mask of shock.

“I finally plunged her into the water and just held her there. I could feel when we she was drowned, and out, but not dead yet. I pulled her up and gave her quick power blast just to keep her sleeping.”

Thunder Storm in her deep-purple skin suit was stretched out beside Maxim. Just like Maxim, she was damp and senseless, quiet and limp. She was more silent testimony to the work that I had done on them. I took a moment to admire the purple and yellow of her costume, with its plunging V front against her brown skin.

“That’s Thunder Storm. She shot her electricity at me, but I deflected it right back at her – right back into her face.” I recounted it for mom and felt the sap rising in me as I remembered how her body spasmed. shuddered, and how she quickly collapsed.

“The one in red and blue is Arachnae,” I said. I smiled as I explained her my mother.

“She is the one with insect powers,” she said. Her voice was bolder and pressed itself forward. There was a joy in her.

“Insect powers. Yes. She was the first one that I lashed at out myself. She tried to use her venom, but I was too fast for her.”

It was true. I remembered how I struck like a whirlwind, hitting Arachnae first. It was a good old right cross that I packed with my bio energy.

“She was only able to cry out for a second while I struck. Then it was over for her. Just, pow!”

I explained how I took her by one ankle and flung her into the lake. There was the splash of the water accepting her, a gentle movement and spread of the surface, and then she bobbed to the top. Her breasts were thrust up and her eyes shut. Now, the shapely woman in the red-and-blue bodysuit was a floating testimony to how my powers overwhelmed hers.

Lone Star was laid out on the deck, lean body sprawled spread-eagle. She was sturdy-fit, with the kind of muscle that you would expect from a skier or a triathlete. Her breasts were large, and her hair a radiant blonde that was almost white when she stood under the meager sunlight.

“I gave her a single backfist, also bio charged. I drove it across that pretty face of hers. I loved seeing all of that blond hair snap across her face. I heard her groan.”

I remembered how she flew. With her eyes squeezed shut by pain and her body arched, she soared in that neon-blue and white costume. There was a stunning moment of her in midair – long, lean muscles stretched out in the cool air. When she struck the dock, she slid just a bit, her head rocking to one side and legs spreading wide as she came to rest. She didn’t rise again.

I turned my attention to Hexx and Gold a split second after I back-fisted Lone Star. I always liked Hexx’s body and costume. She was like Gold, tall – over six feet, and muscular. Both of them had thick, blond hair. “I just grabbed one by her throat, and the other by her throat, and I just strangled them. The others were all beaten. There was no time table. Nothing for me to get to. I just took my time.”

I remembered smiling down at them, Gold in her golden second-skin liquid body sheath, and Hexx in her winter-white body suit. Her costume was a white, swimsuit-type body suit, with purple tights that covered her thick, muscular legs. Both of them were in stocking feet. Both of them struggled, making choking sounds and grasping at my wrists until their bodies succumbed to the dearth of oxygen. I explained to mom how I gave both of them a charge of bio energy to finish off the job.

“Their bodies shook and their eyes were wide,” I laughed.

“I beat all of them.”

All of it took a handful of minutes.

I didn’t get into details. I didn’t say how I stripped naked when first saw the women and descending to attack. I didn’t tell her how I spread my arms wide and, just for fun, shot a stream of my jism into Thunder Storm’s eyes just for fun.

I didn’t talk about how I christened each woman that lay unconscious on that dock. I gave each one at least one splash from my cock.

I didn’t get into details. I didn’t tell her how I projected my powers as a massive cock. I drove it up between Lone Star’s thighs and lifted her from the ground. I energy raped her, holding her high in the air.

Now, that is was over, I just let her take in the pulchritude.

“It’s … it’s beautiful,” she said.

“I wanted you to know that I can handle superheroines. I spoke to the Hunt Club, and they will be coming to collect these. They will sell them.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.”

“So, let Cutlass -Tina- and her sisters come.”

Hours later, when I was drowning Cutlass in the toilet, I would remember how the curves and the muscle of all of these women were laid out as though they were in a banquet. I didn’t tell my mom anything about how, exactly, I felled so many powerful women at once. It was enough to know that my powers – my body, intellect, and my magic – had done it.

Hours later, when I was shoving Cutlass’s head in the toilet, I would be able to say the same thing about her and her whore sisters. I was just good enough, strong enough, magical enough, and righteous enough to beat all of them. While I was still talking to my mother, though, I had to tell her about one special gift that I had prepared.

“I finally figured it out. I figured out how to do the thing in which I can be in two or more places at once. I need to use their bodies as vessels. You’ve given me a lot of gifts,” I said. “I love you for that, mom. I love sis. I’m going to wait for Cutlass and her sisters, and I’m going to beat them.”

She smiled and leaned her head against my shoulder.

“You are such a good boy.”

“I want to be. I try. Look. I designed the house especially for them, for the Sword Whores.”

I explained the whole thing to her. I designed the house to look exactly like the one in which the Sword Sisters grew up. I collected up the artifacts that I knew would be of great value to the sisters. Probing their minds was enough to allow me to generate a perfect mock-up of their childhood home. When they walked in, they would know who was in charge and knew them front to back.

“And I’m ready for them.”

I sat and reviewed my prey with her. Cutlass and her sisters were the descendants of a coven. They were witches. They used their powers as costumed heroines, but they were witches just like my mom. They were witches, but they were misguided. I had to take them in-hand.

“Time for me to get ready for the sword bitches.”

I kissed her forehead.

I waited. I let mom teleport to safety, and I waited. They arrived. It is always a joy to see the confidence in volant superheroines. They soar in with this overwhelming dynamic … something. Like they are goddesses. Like they cannot lose. I stripped myself naked again, taking a moment to look at myself in an upstairs mirror. I had made myself even larger, even more muscular than the weapons program had made me. I made my cock even larger.

I waited. I watched as they entered the house, as they looked around with the revelation spilling over them. This was their childhood home. Inside, I had designed it too look like where they grew up. Every poster, every piece of furniture, every smell – everything was a replay of where these three grew up.

“Looks like we’re home,” said the one called Sabre. Her real name was Tiffany. That was when I stepped out of the shadows and simply stood there letting them take me in.

“I don’t remember him being part of the original house. I would have remembered him,” she said. I looked them over.

There was Cutlass. I really examined Cutlass first. She was wearing the new costume. It was still purple and black like the last one. It was that deep, dark purple with black trim running around her waist and up the sides of her muscular legs. The black racing stripes ran up her conditioned arms and across her back.

“Nice,” I said.

Like I said, it was still purple, and skintight. The material was different, though. Unlike the costume that the coven destroyed, this was more like … looked more like … nylon stockings. Pantyhose. What’s the term? Shimmer? Sheen? A glossy, shiny nylon-type pantyhose body stocking. She wore black boots now – liquid leather, I think it’s called. They hugged those thick calves of hers and they gleamed. She still had a black chess knight on her bust. She still had the black mask. It worked well with her body. Her body was feminine-thick - muscular.

Her hands glowed with her magic power. She looked me in the eye.

“Cutlass, good to see you.”

I took a moment to appreciate her. Cutlass – Tina - was just a gorgeous woman. I took a deep breath and just looked at her. She had that thick, red hair – just dramatic and gorgeous pouring down her shoulders. She wore that mask, but I could see her grey-blue eyes and her smoky-eye make-up. I took a moment just to love those pouty lips and the purple gloss she had used on them.

“Cutlass. You’re a goddess. A fucking goddess. I can’t wait to cum on your fucking face,” I said.

Her sister, Tiffany, was right there with her. Shorter than her sister, she was still a collection of muscle and curves. She was built like a figure 8, but there was conditioning and power in her body. She had sweeping blond hair and penetrating blue eyes. Her costume was a skin-tight two piece of electric silver and gold. A swath of gleaming gold enwrapped her bust, cinching tightly around her high, firm breasts. She wore an equally-tight golden bottom. It was slick and sheer against those muscular thighs. Hip boots. She wore glossy, skintight hip boots that ran up to those thick thighs. Silver. She was the one they called Sabre. Her whole body seemed to radiate with that same power as Cutlass.

On the other side of her was Foil. Brooke. Tall, and dark-haired, she was the one that attacked in such straight lines with such energy. I remembered studying her and looking at videos of her in action. She was a bigger girl that Cutlass, with a certain muscular density where Cutlass had striation and definition. Her body was still curvy, still feminine-strong, though. She wore a vivid maroon cat suit that shimmered like spandex. Her left leg was bare. Her right arm was bare. The maroon spandex-skin her right leg, her left arm, and her torso. Her black boots were also that glossy liquid leather. The emblem of a straight sword was drawn across her bust.

I smiled at them and I spoke to them. They hadn’t noticed the little gifts I’d left scattered around the room.

“Ladies! Hello! Ok, so I’m going to move so fast and strike you so hard that you’ll be completely overwhelmed. I’m going to beat you, and then I’m going to fuck each one of you bitches.”

I smiled. Then I did what I promised.

I moved fast. I was a blur, and the sisters had a moment of darting eyes and confusion as I whizzed around them. I delivered a kick to Sabre, Tiffany, and sent her through the closest wall. It was a beautiful scene – her blonde hair covered her face and she doubled over and flew back. She let out a groan and cringed in pain as the plaster and wood collapsed around her. She was gone for a moment. I remember her “Uhhhh!” echoing from inside the wall.

I punched Brooke, driving her through the other wall. It was a beautiful right cross, snapping her head to the side and driving her through the plaster as though it were nothing. She had tried to move to intercept me at first, but I was way too fast. She let out a short cry, her eyes squeezed shut, and she became a rag doll. She went crashing through the wall. I remember the sight of muscular legs thrown wide open as she disappeared into the plaster. I just needed those split seconds to have some alone time with Tina.

Cutlass - she moved, cat-like and strong, to stop me, but I darted, picked up the rope that I had left just a reach away from me. I sped in close to her. I met her halfway. For a moment, our eyes met. Hers had an intensity, a fire that I had to put out. I could smell the fragrance of her hair and the feel heat of her body as I got up close behind her. There was a moment of struggle, of her gasping and bringing her hands up to her throat, but there was nothing she could do to stop me. I got the noose around her throat.

“There we go!”

I got the noose around Cutlass’ throat. Around her neck.

Instantly, I could tell, there was wave of weakness, a cascade of fatigue, that ran through her body. Her eyes were wide as I yanked it tight, closing the circle of rope. She made those desperate choking sounds, and I was still nothing but a blur as I tossed the end up over one of the ceiling beams. I pulled on the end and hoisted Cutlass into the air.

I hanged Cutlass.

“There we go,” I soothed. Her eyes were agog and her mouth was gaping open.

Her thick legs stiffened as she left the floor. I would have expected a loose flailing, but I was delighted to see how the muscles flexed and tensed. In their purple shiny nylon, in those boots, her leg muscles and her buttocks went taut. She had a firm shelf of an ass, and as she choked, I saw it tighten up and clench in that purple pantyhose costume. I watched her buttocks clench.

“You’re wondering why you just got weak!” I laughed. “The rope is an artifact.”

I yanked hard on the rope, sinking my weight and dragging her higher into the air. Her tongue was creeping to the front of her mouth.

“It’s shutting down your powers.”

I hanged Cutlass. I yanked on the rope and listened to her choke. Her body started to rotate, giving me a full view of her wide bust, her abs, her sculptured back. I could finally appreciate the folds and bulge of her camel toe.

I felt myself go hard as I hanged the curvy girl from the ceiling, as I watched her suffocate. I would remember, hours later, when her head was under the toilet water, that there was more than a struggle for air that I saw in her face. She felt her powers, her strength, her sense of self being shut off. She felt helpless.

“Witch’s noose!” I yelled. “The rope was done up by the truest of witch-hunters. It has metal coils made from old 17TH century hunter’s armor threaded into it. It’ll drain your powers! What am I saying? It has. You’re powerless, Tina.”

Some of that red hair was trapped in the noose and some was stuck to the moist redness of her lips. Some hung free. I made art as I hanged Cutlass from the ceiling beams.

Her body - her muscles - trembled, and her big breasts were jutted forward. I could appreciate how large they were now, and how sinewy strong her body was. She clawed at the rope, her eyes wide, and I gave myself a stroke.

“Just a moment. You choke while I do this.” I secured the rope to an eye ring that I had anchored to the floor, then shot back across the room.

I looked up at the artwork. Beauty. Big-breasted in a sheen of purple nylon, she starting to drool.

Both of the sisters were up and coming at me now. I slowed down a bit so that Brooke could really see me. She released a snarl, a growl, as she struck at me. It was a good, sharp punch that desperately wanted to land on my jaw. She struck at me, and I started the process of destroying her. Cutlass hung from the ceiling, strangling, and watching as I defeated her sisters.

“Collar!” I commanded. The thick metal collar that I positioned in the corner of the room came to life. It sprang from the floor, twirled through the air and found home around Brooke’s throat. It made a loud clang. Her eyes widened with shock and she released a sudden gasp as the collar clamped shut. It was wide, thick, crude, and pinned her hair to her neck. Just like with her sister, as soon as the loud clank sounded, I could see her body weaken. She still tried to throw her punch, but the speed and the magic were suddenly depleted. Her shapely legs, in that split second, started to buckle.

I snapped my fingers and looked at Sabre. I envisioned a massive cock of energy jamming itself up into her pussy. In my mind’s eye it stretched her wide and pushed so hard and deep into her that it lifted her from the floor. In real life, her body responded. Her lips pulsed and she reached down to clutch her crotch with both hands. She howled and rocked back, arched back, fell back.

I looked back to Brooke.

“Poor Foil,” I laughed. “You tried.”

It was true. She tried again, doing her best to throw a punch at me. I easily blocked Foil’s blow and I trapped her arm. With one good yank I pulled Brooke from her balance and dragged her into me.

“Choke!”

The collar cinched tighter around Foil’s throat. Her mouth opened as though she were a sex doll. Her eyes widened like Cutlass’s, who still struggled on the end of a rope. There was a noise that came out of her that ran right through me. It was surrender and it was sex.

“Choke!”

It was a thrill to see how her legs, her whole body betrayed her. My hand clutched her left arm and I grabbed the back of her head with my right. Brooke- Foil, that is - had this thick brown hair. Dense brown hair. I grabbed a handful of it and felt myself grow even harder. I thrust her to her knees. I slammed my fist into the side of her head. She cried out with her throaty voice as one hand came up pathetically to guard. She was only able to fan the air. The collar and chain were working wonders.

I struck her again, this time with an open palm. I still held that hair. Later, when I was drowning her sister in the toilet, I told her how good it felt to hold that hair and hit Brooke in the face.

“Bitch!” I barked at her. I loved the surge I felt. I loved the “Uhhhhhhnnnnn” that she released when I struck her with a clenched fist.

Her eyes closed and she shuddered. She was like that when I did it again, and again, and again. Soon, those strong arms of hers were completely limp. She tried to rise, I drove a knee into her midsection, and she released a grunt, a pained, helpless grunt as she went to the ground in front of me. My cock couldn’t help but feel more turgid and powerful. She and I could both feel how weak she had grown and how utterly powerful I become.

“I’m going to rape your mouth,” I said.

I tilted her head up and looked into the drowsy defeat of her eyes. Perfect. She could feel the overwhelming power that was crushing her.

“I’m going to have you and each and of your sisters,” I said. I took hold of my cock.

“First, I’m going to rape your mouth.”

I shoved my cock down Brooke’s throat. I shoved it down her throat. Her mouth was already pursed open, almost inviting me in, so I simply took it. There was the moment of her lips – softness and heat – and then the harsh gateway of her parted teeth. In a second, though, I was in the drooling furnace of her mouth. In a split second, I had invaded all the way to the back of her throat, and now my cock owned it. While her sister – Cutlass – hanged and choked – I shoved my cock down Brooke’s throat.

“Look at your sister, hanging bitch!”

Again, Brooke’s eyes widened with a sudden shock as I yanked her head in closer and sent my cock plowing forward. Heat and wetness flowed over my tool. I could feel the soft relief of her tongue trembling below the massive power of my cock.

“There we go,” I laughed. I adjusted, pulled back, captured my balls, and stuffed them in along my cock. Brooke’s mouth was stuffed. Drool pooled around my shaft and I felt myself drown in her heat. I looked down to see her eyes starting to redden and water. I could feel her body heaving as it struggled to accept air.

“Bigger!” I rasped. My cock grew wider and thicker on my command. It stretched itself until I could fill the back of her windpipe with the mushroom tip alone. My cock jammed her windpipe shut.

“There we go.”

As I suffocated Foil, I could hear the pathetic chirps of Cutlass strangling. Looking up, saw the sculpted body in the glossy nylon twisting in midair. Tina. Her eyes were taking on that distant drowsy look. Just like Brooke. She was strangling on the end of the rope as her sister was choking on the end of my cock.

“Bad day for the sisters, huh?” I laughed.

Tina’s eyes were rolling up in her head. I looked over at Tiffany in her hip boots and two-piece costume. She was unconscious, on her back, with both arms flung wide and her legs spread. One knee was up and I had a glorious view of her mound in that tight, shiny material.

“Lovely,” I said aloud. I looked up to taunt Cutlass some more, and saw the fading fire in her eyes.

“Don’t black out yet, piggy. Rope. Drop.”

The rope released at my command, and dropped Cutlass’ sleek body to the ground. Those thick, muscular legs buckled under her. They folded as she crumbled. Her arms limply flopped to her sides and her head sank to the floor in a wave of red hair. I couldn’t see her face as she collapsed, but I could hear the desperate gasp. I could see her back heave as she gulped air. I took a few seconds to appreciate how thick and feminine-strong her legs looked in that glossy nylon.

Later, when I was drowning Tina in the toilet, I realized how gratifying it was to deprive this purple-clad bitch of air. Seeing her desperate to gather life into her lungs, knowing she was helpless to stop me from snatching it away again, was a gift. She was my property, I could do what I wanted with her, and she wouldn’t even be able to breathe if I didn’t want her to.

“Get some air, piggy.”

I watched and distilled that image in my head. It was gorgeous. She was clawing the floor and gulping air. It was exquisite.

“Love choking my big girls.”

I looked down. Brooke’s eyes were doing the same dance – watering, growing red, fluttering on the edge of blacking out. I used my left hand to hold Brooke’s head in place, to keep my cock and balls jammed down her windpipe. I decided to take her right to the edge.

“Almost there,” I laughed. As the light was going out in her eyes, her arms gave into the heavy weakness of gravity. The legs were already curled beneath her and of no use to her. She was beaten. I waited one beat more, then I pulled my cock from her mouth. She did that desperate gasping, that heaving of a person just pulled from drowning. A string of saliva joined her thick lips to my cock.

Later, when I was drowning Cutlass in the toilet, I would marvel at the fact that it all happened so fast. I moved that fast. That first fight I had with the Sword Sisters - the beating, the cock choking, the hanging. It all took a handful of minutes.

As I expected, I heard a groan and motion. Sabre – Tiffany -was awake. Sabre wasn’t beaten yet. She had recovered and was after me. She shook her head, getting the cobwebs of her beating out, let out a battle cry, and charged me. I had been strangling her sisters, and she was coming for me. Her fists were glowing with her family’s magic.

“Chain!” I yelled. The artifact that I left waiting in the corner followed my command. There was the sound of an object twirling, cutting through the air, and then colliding with a woman’s body. I felt a charge run through me as I watched the art display that was Tiffany’s capture. She arched her body backwards. She flung her head back, blond hair tossing in a cascade. Her eyes were squeezed shut with pain, and her mouth was open in a deep, throaty cry. Pain shot through her body, as the chain embraced her.

Her big breasts were thrust up. Her thighs tensed.

I jammed my cock back down Foil’s throat as I watched Sabre fall.

The ends of the chain came from either side, folding around her, just below her bust. They cinched tightly in a circle of steel, pining her arms to her sides. The chain wrapped itself again, and again, and again until the Sword Sister called Sabre was bound. She sank to her knees, those thighs flexing with all of that muscle and thickness. With her arms captured against her upper body, and blond hair falling across her eyes she bared her teeth and glared at me.

“You can feel the witch chain shutting off your power, can’t you?” I laughed. She struggled and I ordered the chain. “Crush. Suffocate.”

The links obeyed, slithered, and pulled, winding themselves around Tiffany’s lush body. She bucked against it and soon realized that she had used her precious oxygen in a losing fight. Her eyelids fluttered and the muscles in her legs … you could see them tremble.

I released a burst of my pheromones. I pulled Brooke in deeper, and finally felt the fight go out of her. Her body went limp. I released her. I let her drop to the floor. As she did, I looked back to Cutlass, who was still gasping on all fours. The noose was still around her neck, up the rope was slack.

“Up!” I said. The rope obeyed, snapping taut and yanking Cutlass up into the air. I waited. I looked at Cutlass’ long, strong legs and her camel toe, and her thick, red hair.

I waited. I looked down at that chestnut hair and the shut eyelids of Brooke. I looked at her ass and the way her muscles were twitching. She had suffocated into unconsciousness. I looked back up to her hanging sister. Her body didn’t resist anymore.

“She’s going to black out soon!” I said. My words fell on deaf ears. Cutlass was hanging like an ornament. I looked back to the little sister wrapped in her chain. Still on her back, she was motionless - a landscape of curves and skintight material.

“Drop,” I told the rope. Cutlass’ limp body – Tina, with her big tits and her long legs – dropped to the floor.

“Welcome home, bitches.”

Only a few minutes later, I had undone Cutlass’ noose and dragged her across the floor by her hair. I enjoyed lifting her by all of that red whore hair and flinging her on the table. She sprawled out, arms and legs flung wide, face a sleeping mask of defeat. Next, I grabbed Sabre’s legs and dragged her to the table. I loved the way that her blond hair swept the floor.

I undid the chain and tossed her on the table with her sister.

Last, I lifted Foil by her hair and her mound. I picked her up, her face down towards the floor, and reached between her thighs, grabbing hold of her thick vulva – dug my fingers into it. I carried her like luggage to the table. She got the last position. Now, all three sisters were laid out. All three women in their costumes were unconscious. It was time for artwork.

“Ok, let’s see what we have here.”

I had gotten pretty good at doing shi-bari bondage with chains. Rope for shi bari? Of course. I had piled up rope in coils on the floor, but there were also the chains. There were lengths and lengths of steel links waiting for me to give it a go. I had spent a fair amount of time selecting them, feeling their weight, running my fingers over their narrow links. I could manipulate them like rope, but they had the strength of titanium.

“I’m going to chain some bitches.”

With their strength at normal levels, the sister would have torn right through those chains, but today was different. I started with the redhead. I started with my gorgeous, unconscious Cutlass. I wrapped a length behind her neck, doubled one end over and threaded the other through it. I ran the chains across her costumed torso, ran them between her big tits and around behind her back. I pinned her arms back there, wrapping length after length of rope around them. Her wrists and elbows were pinned together and her torso was trapped in my crisscross web of chains.

I flung her back on the table, watching the way her big thighs in their glossy nylon spread apart. Her legs were free and her upper body was bound in my shi-bari web. I would need her legs open. It was like her camel tow was smiling at me, inviting me. Now, it was time for the other helpless heroine sisters, and I bound them in the same way. It was the same configuration– upper bodies trapped, legs spread.

I did Foil next, being rewarded with a little moan and a sigh as I pulled her upright and gave her the chain treatment. Saber was next, enjoying how her blond hair fell and flopped. Over her face. I let her bound form flop down between her sisters.

I took a moment to look at all of them, their arms bound behind them, their upper bodies wrapped and coiled. They had thick radiant hair and full, lush, painted lips. Curves and tits in skin-tight costumes. My cock rose and moved, seeming as though it wanted to drive itself right through their costumes.

“Wake up.”

My voice was average, at first. It just coasted along in the air of the room. I projected my powers.

“Wake up.”

I released a wave of my pheromones.

“Wake up.”

I watched eyes flutter open. I saw red lips part. Soon, lush bodies were starting to move. It was a joy watching as each discovered that they were bound, weak, and helpless. They moaned. They squirmed. They started to struggle as best they could, but weakened as they were, beaten as they were, and coiled in chains, there was little they could do. I noticed Cutlass looking at my cock. Precum was already collecting in a drop at the head.

“What am I going to do?” I asked her.

“You’re … going to … fuck us,” she said. Her voice was the better part of a whisper, hoarse from her time hanging in my noose. “You’re … you’re going to rape … all three … of us.”

“I am,” I said. I looked to Foil. “What am I going to do to you and your sisters?”

“You’re going to fuck us one by one. Rape us.”

My pheromones were washing over them, and my senses were working overtime as I considered the three women laid out in front of me. Tiffany’s – Sabre’s – pussy was clean, fresh, and sopping wet. I could smell the sex pouring out of the busty little blonde. I could smell her pussy juice and I could feel the heat from her skin. My pheromones were surging through her, and she lay there panting, soaking her costume bottom. There was a dark, damp oval of material between her thighs. She squirmed and bit her lower lip as I drew closer. The wet spot grew darker, widened.

“I think I’ll start with that pussy right there.”

I looked her in the eye.

“What am I going to do to you?”

“Fuck me. You’re going to rape me.”

My hands went to the skintight bottoms of her costume. I got my fingers around the waist band of her bottoms and pulled. One good pull drew the wet, slick fabric over her muscular thighs and over her slick hip boots. All of the whores still had their boots. I loved their boots. High heels. Tight and slick. Glossy. I love bound women in high-heeled boots.

Her bottoms were soaked and they made the sweetest shush sound as I stripped them down her muscular legs, over those stocking hip boots, and off of her. I rubbed the sodden spot between my thumb and forefinger. It was slick and juicy. I brought them up to my nose and mouth.

“Sabre. Tiffany. This is sweet, clean pussy, you have here. Very nice,” said.

I wrapped the costume bottom around two fingers, pulling it tight as though I were going to polish silver. I used both fingers with the cloth wrapped around them, to press the pink-brown folds of her sex. Her lips were soaked, gushing, and they trembled open for me as I pressed. The heat engulfed my fingers and I scooped up, letting the pussy juice soak the material. Already doused with Tiffany’s juices, the rag that had been her costume was now overwhelmed with glistening woman spunk.

“There we go,” I laughed. I smelled it and I touched it with my tongue. The soaked panties responded with the taste of salt and musk. They were covered in the woman’s goo, her natural gel.

“Soaked superheroine panties.”

I scooped them up through her pussy folds again. And again. She moaned. A tremor rocked her body as I made it a point to rub hard against her clit.

“Pretty pussy,” I laughed. I heard the words kind of bubble out of me. “Very wet.” I looked over at Cutlass’ prone form. Again, I found myself pleased that I had done an elaborate job of chain shi-bari with her. Her sculpted arms were pulled behind her back, joined at the elbows and wrists. Her big breasts were crisscrossed and outlined with chains. Her thickly, curvy legs were free.

“This is for you,” I laughed as I leaned from the little sister to where Cutlass was laid out and chained up.

“These panties are just soaked with your sister’s pussy juice.”

For a moment, I looked her in eye. I didn’t see the fear that I wanted to see. I didn’t see the panic. I would have liked that. Still, I saw Cutlass in captivity, and that was enough. I stuffed her sister’s soaked panties into her mouth. Her lips opened for me, and I used two fingers to jam the panties down. I didn’t want to crowd her throat and choke her; I wanted that wet slick of pussy juice to end up right on her tongue. I wiggled it around, making sure that the pussy goo from the little sister was smearing her taste buds.

“That’s her pussy juice,” I whispered.

It felt as though something more needed to happen, so I took a moment to lay my cock and balls on her face. With a quick adjustment of her body, and shuffled here and there, I was able to let my cock lay up along the relief of her face. Tremors rippled in me as I felt my cock skin contact her face. Then, I just looked. I looked down at her closed eyes and her open mouth stuffed with her sister’s damp shorts. I looked at the way my cock laid massive and heavy on her features. I looked at how my balls sat on her chin.

“Look at you. Such a slut,” I laughed. “Weak and humiliated. You have your sister’s costume stuffed in your ignorant whore mouth. You can’t stop me. I’m going over there to fuck Tiff.”

I made it point to slide my cock down along her face, not lift it off, and then turn around. The friction of my cock skin against her cheek, against her lips, across her chin made me shudder. It was like an electric shock was rising through me, running right from her skin to my nervous system. I smiled, shivering as I backed away from Tina’s face. That light trail of precum glistened like a cheap jewelry souvenir on her skin. In ran in a faint trail, diagonally, in a streak across her face.

“I feel something special surging through me,” I told her. I did. It was a vibration that seemed to start at the soles of my feet and rise through me.

“You and the other whores here are doing something for me,” I told her.

She was able to watch me go to her sister’s supine form and grab hold of her thighs. Juice was already welling out of Sabre. My pheromones were working her hard. Resistance kept crossing her face, but soon it would give up and be replaced by her need to be my whore. She clenched her teeth and squinted her gaze at me.

With my cock pointed at her like a weapon, the only defense she could offer was her anger, and that was betraying her as well.

“Say the word ‘helpless,’” I said. I was cool about it. I was in charge.

I could see that Tiffany – Sabre – wanted to answer with a “fuck you.” Bound in her chains, she wanted to spit in my face. My hormone storm told her otherwise. Her thighs were slick with pussy juice and they lay open for me.

Later, when I was forcing Cutlass’ face down in the white toilet bowl, I would remember how Sabre’s delta seem to almost suck me into her. I remembered how she groaned the word out for me “Help … less.”

“Let’s see,” I grunted, moving forward. The tip hovered just at her puffy cunt lips. I swear that I saw them move on their own.

I looked over to the gaged Cutlass. “She’s a slut,” I said.

I shivered and reeled a bit as I gave Tiffany the just the tip at first. Tiffany’s heat and wetness seemed to wash over me. I pulled back a bit, looking at the way her body trembled and the way her lips curled down. I lived in the pause for a moment, then rammed the length of my cock into her. The thickness of her muscles, struggled against the chains for a moment. She arched her neck back and screamed. With her pussy gushing, spurting, I pulled back and slid in again, and back, and in again. Each time, she became wetter. Each time she clenched down on me.

There was the energy again, pouring up my body. Things went hazy for a moment, and I could feel my muscles ache and expand, my cock grow longer without my command, now.

“You bitches are feeding me!”

The corners of her mouth turned down, and she simpered as I impaled her. I buried myself in her heat all the way to the base of my cock, and I held myself there. Awash in her sex, I started to rotate my hips. As she screamed and thrashed her head back and forth, I realized how perfect all of this was. In spite of my magic and my powers, at the end of the day, I was a strong man who was raping Sabre and her sisters. I had beaten them and now I was raping them.

Magic was feeding me, but my testosterone was the base of it all.

“I’ve mastered you!” I howled, grabbing the hair on top of Sabre’s head. Her blondness was thick and I filled my fist with it. She screamed and she mewled, but it was strained. As I thrust into her peach furnace, she sucked air through her teeth. I shook her head.

“Cutlass,” I yelled over to the broken and bound redhead. She looked over at me, her sister’s bottoms still jammed in her mouth. “Cutlass! I’m raping your whore little sister.”

I felt a surge of power, of energy, and swirled my hips some more. I thrust forward as hard as I could, my face turned to a joyful cringe. Now was the time to slowly pull back, pull out and enjoy the gape of her pussy. Sabre spurted and gushed all over my cock as I pulled out of her. Her juices shot out, soaking my cock, my legs, my hands. I could have fucked her for hours, but gave only a few more good, strong strokes. Her body sank back, her head sagging, her muscles twitching.

“And now, Foil.”

I grabbed Brooke’s thighs, forcing them apart, yanking the material of her costume from her swollen vulva. There was no need to take any time or coax or care. There was no reason to be meticulous. The silhouette of her vulva seemed to almost press through the material, and I was almost opening a simple door. Easily – roughly - I pinched the material and tore it away. The puffy lips pushed themselves forward, glistening, as if they wanted to kiss my cock.

I jammed myself into Foil’s cunt. No waiting, no toying. I invaded her. I was still wet from her sister, and now I was mingling their juices. Again, I was greeted with a scream. She tilted her head back and she let it loose in the air of the living room. Like her sister’s, her scream was loud, throaty, and it was pained.

“I’m doing this bitch now, Tina!” I jeered at Cutlass. Brooke was gushing as well, her mouth wide open, her eyes wide open. I gripped her hips tighter, told my cock to grow longer, and watched as she was rocked by one tremor after another.

“Squeeze your pussy muscles down on my cock.”

She looked me in eye, gasping, but did not comply.

“Do it, or I will pull out of you, walk over there and cum in Cutlass’s windpipe until she drowns.”

I felt her muscles squeeze down like a powerful fist. My body grew stronger, wider. Muscle added itself to muscle as my generator fed and burned and bulked me up. The energy seemed to crackle in my skin. She kept squeezing, using her pussy like a powerful fist, until I nodded that I was ready for the next step. My body kept demanding that I cum, but had to pace things.

“Release,” I said.

She released her pussy grip, and I stepped back.

“Time to get christened into my church,” I laughed. “My cock is your new god. Open. Both of you, open.”

My first stream went right into Brooke’s mouth. It cleared her lips and painted a slick on her tongue. It pooled in the back of her throat, as I shot another stream into her eyes. She took the shot, never blinking. The beginning of the stream laid itself across her left eyelid, and then across the bridge of her nose. I paused, and then shot the next load into her other eye. This was when she closed them, clenching in the burning pain of semen in her eyes. Still agape, her mouth received my next hot stream.

“Swallow,” I told her. Foil – Brooke -closed her mouth and swallowed my cum. I turned my massive body like a turret, shooting my next stream into Tiffany’s – Sabre’s - waiting mouth. It was a long and strong one, and I directed it perfectly to the back of her throat. It filled her mouth to the point of overflowing , then shot up the side of her face, and into her right eye. I made sure it got into her hair, and then back down to her wide bust – one stream. She had big, gorgeous tits, and I drew a line across them with my cum. It clung to the fabric of her costume, oozing down just a bit before it settled into the slick material. She lay there like her sister, decorated with my spunk.

“Chains off!” I said. The chains fell away, clanking and tinkling. Who needed them anymore? “Slide off and get on your knees on the floor.”

I watched as the curvy, blond dropped to the floor. Broken superheroine.

“The two of you have lovely hair,” I laughed. I stroked and dropped a huge gob on the top of Tiffany’s head. It sat on her thick blondness like a gooey dessert topping. I turned to Brooke, with her thick, strong arms, and broad athlete’s shoulders. She also knelt, stupefied, waiting. I stroked once more and shot a thick, milky stream that laid in a line across her brunette hair.

“Look at each other.”

They turned to each other, inching around on their knees, until they looked each other in the eye. Smiles blossomed on both their faces; their minds were in my zone now, and they spoke my words.

“You’re both under my command and control. Fully.”

They were looking into each other’s eyes and seeing that what I said was true. It was coursing through their systems.

“He’s really got us, Tiff.”

“Yeah. All three of us … he just owns us.”

They were silent for a moment, and I knew that my power was working its way through them. Cutlass watched, her mouth full of her sister’s juicy costume shorts.

“Look at you, little sister,” Brooke giggled. She gingerly touched the cum that decorated her sister’s skin and costume. She poked at it and touched a gob that was clinging to her chin. With her gloved fingertip, she smeared it into a slick line across her sister’s skin.

“You’re a cum slut!” she laughed. She plucked another gob of goo on her blonde sister’s face.

“So are you, big girl.” Tiffany giggled. She used both hands to smear cum around on Brooke’s shoulders and arms.

I couldn’t help but smile.

“You girls are puppets now. Go kneel on the floor in the other room. There’s a box there. It’s full of dildos,” I told them. Muscles flexed and hair fell from shoulders as the sisters stood.

“You two slaves, get the dildos and toys out of here. Your names are on them and they are made to fit your pussies specifically. Masturbate until you are told otherwise. I need you to just keep cumming and cumming and cumming. I’ll be tended to you whore sister,” I said.

“Yessir,” they said in unison. The dark-haired one reached out for the blond little sister and wrapped their hands together. It was sweet the way their fingers interlocked. They held hands as they walked to the next room. Cum clung to them, dribbling from their chins and running down their inner-thighs.

In the other room, just as I said, there was a box full of dildos that I’d set aside especially for them. As far as my control over them, they would fuck themselves and cum until they broke. I looked back down to Cutlass.

“Look at how helpless your sisters are,” I said.

I looked back to the two. They were moving as though in a dream.

“Coming to you now, red.”

I stood over Tina and just felt the moment. She was curvy and thick, big-breasted and muscular. My body was telling that I needed to do more than just rape her pussy with my cock. My body wanted to utterly crush her. I wanted to consume her.

“Slow down,” I said to myself. I looked at her hard nipples and the wet camel toe.

“Slow down. Take each bite of a good meal slowly,” I said aloud.

Now, I had to pace myself. I could feel that I wanted to simply ravage her. Slowly, I took hold of her knees and pressed her thighs apart. She could do nothing except let me see her wet crotch – legs spread wide, the wetness was soaking through her costume.

“Your sisters are my toys now. You hear them cumming?”

She could. Of course she could. One was moaning loudly, while another was giving out stifled gasps and grunts.

“Hear that? Ok, your turn.”

I laid my cock head up against her nylon mound and concentrated. I closed my eyes and pictured what I wanted. In my mind’s eye, I could see my cock tearing though her costume’s material and plowing into her pink folds. Immediately, I knew that I could speak it into existence. My powers were growing. I swear, I felt her sex lips quiver and jump as I pressed.

“Through the nylon and into her pussy.”

I said the words with relish. A fire was rising in me. My cock was moving on its own now, rubbing up and down against the outline of her sex. It even corkscrewed like a thick, angry snake.

“Into her.”

There was a molten rush that engulfed me as I plunged forward. For a shuddering moment, an earthquake moment, I felt as though I was underwater and being churned below a huge, breaking wave. Her costume had melted, and I was in her now. She couldn’t scream for me because of Tiffany’s panties shoved in her mouth, but she tried. The slick, wet material stifled her cries, but my cock was spreading her and it was wide and it was sweet. She was trying to howl, and it was sweet.

“Yes. There,” I felt myself say.

It took a moment for me to collect myself, then I got down to fucking her. I fucked Cutlass. I drew back and slammed home in her pussy. Her eyes widened again, and she grunted against the panties. I slammed home, and her big breasts shook. I slammed home, and her eyes grew wide. Her cunt was pulsing and raining all around my cock, and the backs of my legs shook.

“Oh, yesssss….” I hissed.

I could hear her sisters moaning in the other room. One actually cried out. It was high and it was piercing.

“You hear your whore sisters? They will keep cumming and masturbating and cumming until I tell them not to.”

I slammed home again and again, deciding that a family trait must be spurting. Her eyes were even wider.

“I have something special for you, Cutlass,” I said. I was fucking her faster now, my cock was a piston. She was biting her gag and she was simpering.

“Something special.”

I stopped. I slowed, and I stopped, and I took a long time pulling out of her. Her back was arching, her legs twitching and jerking. Her mouth continued to twitch around the panties as her pussy spurted and seemed to grasp at my cock.

“Are you cumming, piggy?”

I was undoing the chains now. Her arms feel free. I took hold of that hair on the top of her head and pulled her upright. I could see a shudder starting to wrack her body.

“Did I say you could cum?”

My slap echoed through the house.

“Did I say that you could cum? On the floor and on your hands and knees!”

There was no hesitation. Cutlass practically collapsed into the posture of a dog. All of that red hair tumbled off to one side. She waited while I took two steps away and got the chain collar from the bookshelf. She waited while I connected it to the leash. She waited while I fixed it around her throat.

“I wanted you to have a steel collar as opposed to leather one because I wanted you to feel the cold discomfort. Thank your master,” I said. The broken redhead stared at the floor. She let the gag drop out of her mouth.

“Thank you, sir.”

I told her “Crawl to the bathroom. Make sure to let your ass sway. Make sure I can see your curves moving and … just sway your ass. I love how that looks.”

She did as she was told. She reached forward with her left hand, letting almost hover in the air above the wood of the floor for a second. When she put it down, the other hand was already in motion, reaching and pulling her forward. Her legs were in moving at the same time, this one, then that. Her muscles were flexing.

“There we go,” I laughed. She reached forward again, her head nodding down as she placed her palm to the floor and moved her body forward, then forward again. She crawled like a submissive dog across the bare-wood floor and into the tile of the bathroom. She stopped when I yanked her chain.

“What do you see on the floor?”

“A dildo, sir.”

“Do you think that you could accept it in your pussy? Your ass?”

“If my master demanded it, sir.”

I reached over her shoulder, I took hold of the dildo, and held it up. It was the length of a night stick. I made it a point to hold it in front of her face so that Cutlass could get a good look at it. The toy was appropriate for her; it was purple and black marbled into swirls. With a girth thicker than a beer bottle and a wide, exaggerated mushroom tip, I wondered how a regular human woman could accept it into her body. It was hard. It was as long as my forearm.

“Gorgeous, huh?” I asked her.

“Yessir.”

“Stand.”

She did.

I moved my hand a little lower on the shaft and cocked my arm back. I drove from the hip, snapping my shoulder forward and swung the dildo like a club. There was the crisp thwacking sound of the leather and rubber colliding with the side of Cutlass’s face. She gasped and closed her eyes as her head snapped to the side. I cocked back again, this time bringing it over my other shoulder, and slashed it in the opposite direction. I used all of my strength.

Tina moaned this time. It was a loud, rippling moan that poured out of her. Her face snapping the other way. Red hair flipped across her face. I saw the thick legs start to buckle, so I grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her upright. There was a blank expression on her face. She was powerless and helpless. I struck her again.

I hit her in the same way, in her face, again. One moan overlapped the other as she absorbed the blows, staggering and trying to maintain her feet.

I hauled back and let the dildo club fly again and again and again. I beat her face with the dildo. She reached out one hand to steady herself her, but her legs were giving up on her. There was a moment that seemed right for a pause, and so I took it, listened to the screams of her sisters from the other room, then struck again. I made sure to let it crash into her face. Soon, Cutlass was on her knees, and I was beating her. I beat her to the floor with a huge cock club.

“There we go, bitch.”

I looked down at her curled in fetal position on the floor. I saw defeat and delicious opportunity in the muscle and the thickness and the curves.

“You are perfect,” I said. I sent the club crashing down the curve of her ass.

I looked at her body and began stroking myself with my left hand. I looked at her big tits and her hips. Her curvy waist. Her thick red hair.

“You need your own christening,” I said. “Stand.”

Painfully, she stood. I put down the dildo and continued stroking my cock. My left hand stroked while my right hand accepted. She moved hair from her face and watched, and listened, as I grunted and my cock poured out cum. It was a rush of pearly goo that ran between my fingers and pooled in my palm.

I took a moment to feel the weight and the heat of it in my hand. I inhaled, taking in the salty scent of it, letting a little trickle between my fingers. Cutlass stood and waited, her full lips parted, her eyes drowsy. She waited, her sculpted arms hanging limp, at her sides. She waited, and I hauled back my hand. When my palm crashed into the side of her face, there was crisp, explosive crack. A slap. A sharp, wet, snapping popping sound.

My slap was like a gunshot in they echoing white walls of the bathroom. Whiteness splattered across her face. It clung to her skin. My slap made her shudder.

She closed her left eye as my cum splashed into it. She curled those lips back as my cum splattered across her mouth, her chin, her nose. My hand never left the contours of her face after crashing into it, pressing and gripping her skin with the hot mass of my cum. I pushed and pressed the hot goo into her model-perfect skin, taking it in a wide smear across her nose and eyes. Now, she had to shut both heavy lids as my semen blinded her. I had heard that cum in the eyes burned. I pressed it into her mouth, feeding past her pouty lips.

I retracted my hand, then reached out and cupped her big, right tit with the same hand. It was firm, but had that feminine yielding to it. The nipple was hard. There was still a gloss of cum on my palm, and it glistened on her nylon body stocking as I smeared it.

I throbbed again, looking at the glossy, shimmering nylon.

“Let’s see if I can get some more for you.”

I aimed my cock at her camel toe and stroked once and hard. I aimed it at that meaty wedge and I demanded my cum to shoot out as though I were firing a gun. Cutlass rocked on her heels and bit down on her lower lip when the cum wad struck her pussy. Just as if I’d spat on her, my cum shot crashed into her crotch. It made a loud wet slapping sound.

“There we go, slut.”

It clung to her camel toe, waiting for me to give her a rub. I reached out with my right hand, pressing my fingers up into her mound and pressing. I drew circles with my fingertips now. I smeared my cum on the outline of her sex.

“Look at your sister,” I called over my shoulder to the other two.

“Come in here and see what a filthy cum slut she is!”

Almost instantly, they were there. Their eyes were fixed on Tina, and the leaned on each other, pumping and cumming as they watched.

This was when I drowned Cutlass in the toilet. This was when I dragged her down, and drowned her in the toilet. First, I wrapped her hair around my fist. I wrapped it twice, it was so long and thick. There was a moment, once it was wrapped and tight, that I just stood there feeling the rope of her hair and looking at her helpless face. I wanted to see panic or despair, and I was disappointed to see neither. She was simply biting that full lower lip of hers and squinting against the pain of my grip and the cum that was still in her eyes.

I dragged her down and up to the bowl. This was when I said “Something wrong, slut?”

I looked down at the wide expanse of her bust, and her thick thighs squirming and working as she tried to established herself against the floor. There was the sharp clickclack of her high heels against the wooden floor as her legs struggled. Th glossy body suit made the sweetest shushshush sound as it slid across the floor – as she squirmed.

I could smell the cum the cleanser that I used when I prepared the room for her.

“Here we go,” I said as I lifted the toilet seat with one hand and dragged her head and face over the rim. I kept her looking down so that she could see her reflection.

“Take a deep breath, bitch.”

One of her hands came up to grasp the rim. I could see the red nails and the purple material against the stark whiteness of the porcelain. I took in the curve of her ass, the muscle of her legs, the broad definition of her back in the purple sheen of the costume. I looked at my hand with the red hair wrapped around it, and I thrust her head down into the toilet water.

Her arms raised as much as they could in the desperate gesture of the drowning, but there was nothing to be done: She was nothing more than a woman with her head in a toilet bowl. I held Tina there, pressing her down into the water.

“There we go,” I laughed. I could hear the moaning of her sisters still masturbating in the doorway. I yanked, pulling her head up from the bowl. There was a splash, and her gasping echoed in the porcelain chamber. Droplets showered me.

“Say the word ‘helpless,’” I ordered her.

“Helpless!” I heard her gasp. My cock tremored again and I rejoiced. I shoved her head down again. There was a splash that rippled down my spine. The legs in purple – the whole muscular body of the captive woman in its glossy purple sheath – shook and tensed. She was drowning without the will, strength or power to do anything about it.

“And up,” I laughed.

Again, I pulled her head up, letting toilet water rain off of her. “Help …less,” she said again, gulping air. Again, she went under. This time, I held her there until the struggling stopped. Her arms and legs went limp, and her muscles relaxed. She was drowned, not dead yet, but unconscious. I looked to my right. The sisters were on the floor now, moaning and convulsing as they came over and over again.

“I’m just going to go ahead and leave you all just like this. If you cum to death, fine. If she drowns, fine. If you find some way out, fine. It’s all the same to me.”

I stood, took a deep breath, and walked out.

---

WIZARD'S LAIR MAIN PAGE Mr. K'S STORY PAGE