EMBRACE
Thunder gained her powers by chance. I studied with Nordic Wiccans to gain my powers, but hers came by dumb luck. One good lightning zap during a London storm, and she was empowered in-utero. Her mom didn’t make it, but she was left able to fly and concentrate energy blasts. Powerful ones. When we finally got free of Succubus, I watched as she took out the villian’s minions with frightening bursts of electricity.
Her powers were nowhere to be found on the night of our captivity to the Congregation. She’d had a fight with that bitch that calls herself Scirocco, The Bringer of Winds. They’d exchanged electric blasts for gusts of wind and tossed each other around for an hour of so before Father and his crew showed up. Thunder would tell me later how the older man simply snapped his fingers and every ounce of power died in her. She felt herself drop like a stone as Scirocco sped away. She felt waves close over her.
Powers depleted, hanging in chains, Thunder’s large black nipples became sucking candy for her captors. She was little more than Jessica Matthews now, as I was little more than my regular identity. We were just female bodies.
Two women were sucking her nipples and fingering her mound as I was taken out of the tube. She was moaning now, and they were dragging me to the ropes and chains that dangled from the ceiling. Instead of trussing me up like Thunder, they put me in a hanging spread eagle. My feet were anchored to the floor, spread far apart in a broad, open, straight-legged stance. My wrists were locked in dangling chains and stretched out above my head. Both of us, large-breasted, lush and helpless were being shown what it means to be an object.
There was a gurgling noise, and I looked over to see the aliens who were sucking Thunder shift to their true form. In a second, she was encircled in tentacles. To my left, some that were still in human form were taking a stock-still Mystic from her holding tube. They took only seconds to string her up, chaining her ankles, spreading her legs, and hanging her upside down. Her wrists were chained to her waist and her red locks dangled down. Now, one after the other dissolved into their alien form and joined the single, growing beast as it fondled the three of us. A green arm slithered up my left leg and wrapped around my waist, as another coiled tightly around my neck. They encircled my thighs and breasts and soon I was in the snuggling embrace of the creature. Every inch of my metallic gold-clad body was covered. I was mummified. I was cocooned in the green arms.
This was another super villain fetish I still try to figure out. They like to mummify. At least some do. When Eclipse and I battled The Sculptor, I experienced it first-hand. We’d crept into his loft to free what we thought was a captive woman. She was probably going to be found tightly-mummified and in a drug-induced stupor like all of his victims. None could be totally roused from their drug sleep and all had SCHONE tagged on their bodies.
We’d only been there for a minute before the place was flooded with a thick green gas. It clogged my nose and mouth, painted the back of my throat and drained any sort of strength I had out of me. I clutched at my throat and made a feeble attempt to fly. All I ended up doing was crashing to the carpeted floor. I convulsed with choking coughs and looked up at Eclipse through the haze. She was on her knees, also gagging. A second later, she was sprawled across my body and I was out.
Just like with the Congregation and their multi-armed persona, I awoke to find myself helpless. I was on my back, strapped to an operating-type table, as was Eclipse. Her body was similar to mine -tall, long-legged, large-breasted and muscular. Her hair was black with one silver streak and, while my costume was metallic-gold, hers was a midnight black latex sheath that seemed to be painted to every detail of her body. A mask came up her neck and covered her face just above the nose. It reminded me of Black Cat’s costume without the exposed diamond.
Much of the captivity is a blur, but I remember our scrawny, academic-looking host rubbing his palms and smiling.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to turn you into beautiful women.”
I watched, groggy, my head sagging, as he took hours to tightly wrap her black-clad body in a thick white gauze, all the while muttering “Beautiful .... Beautiful...”
Soon she was a simply a white hour-glass silhouette, with only space enough to breath. Lovingly his hands followed her helpless contours.
“Beautiful...”
Then he did it to me.
The Congregation tentacles embraced me with the same tightness, not penetrating me, but sealing me up in a slimy full-body hug. Their voice spoke again in my head.
“You will stay this way forever, Gold.”