GOLD

Fetish

Written by Mr. K

GOLD: The Fetish IV


I always loved the carry scenes. These were the scenes in which the heroine, knocked out and helpless is scooped up and carried by the victorious villain. I always liked the over-the-shoulder type. That way, her hair could hang down and her arms could swing with the movement of her captor.

I was still shaken up as I took Gold. I slid my arm between her legs, cupping my hand under her perfect, round ass. I took hold of her right arm. There was still the warm, slickness of her costume and the sweet smell of her hair as I lifted her up and slung her over my shoulder.

I felt the large, soft, womanly breasts press into my back. Her arms and hair hung down, swaying, brushing against me. And those legs. Long golden legs with big thighs and high-heeled boots swayed as I carried Gold.

Finally, in the room, with its padded floor and walls, I dumped Gold down. She was in a spread-eagle for a moment, then I kicked her on to her belly. The moist mess of blond was wrapped around her head, across her face. I think I heard a slight sigh.

As I pulled her limbs in against her body and bound her again, I pondered this Tracy woman, the woman who becomes Gold. Mici had done her research with another super-powered woman named Vixen. Vixen was a scientist who’d made it her business to enhance her own and other people’s bodies, all in the name of killing superheroines. She’d captured Gold, interrogated her under drugs, video taped it and produced the information we were using. In fact, she had a whole collection of videos.


“She’s been captured a number of times,” Mici told me one night. She was picking a tape from among a collection.

“See, kiddo, you’re an amateur. There’s a whole underground fetish community out there that gets off on the same thing. When they can, they make videos and pass them around. This first one was made by some organization. Watch.”

She slid in one labeled GOLD 12. There was a click, snow, then a vivid image blossomed on the screen. There she was. There was Gold, sitting on a concrete floor, slumped against a concrete wall. One leg was propped up, knee in the air. The other was straight out in front of her. Her arms were limp at her side. Her head sagged to one side. It was clear that she was awake, but her eyes looked vacant.

A male voice came from off screen.

“Ok ... so ... we’ve got Gold here.” Laughter. “We’ve got Gold. We put together a pretty good ambush, gassed her and shot her with our energy weapons. See, ya’ gotta hit Gold with a couple of different things as once.”

A naked man stooped into the picture. For a moment, his muscular back filled up the screen, then he settled into a crouch in front of the helpless heroine. I went stiff as he pressed his face to her right breast and began to suck her nipple. His moved his head in slow motion, and she slowly opened her mouth in a silent moan.

His thick hands came up, squeezing deeply into the soft, golden roundness of her breasts. One leg trembled, but Gold remained below him, helpless.

After a moment more of sucking her breasts, the erection festooned man stood. His hand dropped back into the camera, grabbed a mess of blond hair, and lifted the woman up as if she was weightless.

There was snow.

The next scene cut in, and Gold was active and moving, but still helpless. The man a was sitting on a sofa, his gigantic stiff tool disappearing up between her thighs. Voices were cheering and goading from hidden corners as the heroine rode him. Long, muscular legs pumped as she slid up and down up and down on his erection. She let out throaty gasps and moans.
Another naked man entered the scene. He aimed a massive erection at her face.

“Suck my cock, Gold.”

There was no hesitation. The golden one opened her mouth, took hold of his huge member and joined herself to it in a slow, wet oral fuck. Her pace quickened as the man below her reached up an took hold of her breasts. Something in her must have been protesting, but you couldn’t tell from looking. We watched for a few minutes more, until they came in her mouth and up her pussy - spunk gushed in inhuman qualities - then we moved on.

“Starting to get the picture?” my sister smiled.

There was another labeled VIXEN. My Mici perked up for this one.

“This woman gave me great info. Watch and listen.”

This one came in clear. Again, a defeated heroine was in the center of the screen. She was chained to a wooden chair. She wore a thick pad-locked collar that was joined to a web of chains. She was drugged, helpless, and being interrogated. She was spilling her beans.

While Gold was my prisoner, I thought about the vacant mumbling woman tied up on the VIXEN video.

“My name is Tracy Hammond. I use a magical power source from a coven of Norse witches to become the heroine called Gold.”

I remember the chains running in an X between her big, round, golden breasts.

“Tell us more,” said Vixen’s voice from off-camera. “Explain how I enslaved you.”

“You captured me because the harmonics surge from your machine scrambled my nerves. You then drugged me. The drugs have made me your slave. You found my weakness.”

Then another tape.

A huge man in a black-and-white body suit was beating her mercilessly in what looked like a warehouse. There was Gold’s throaty, guttural yelp of pain, the blur of a flat-handed chop descending into the side of her neck from behind, the gleam of her golden body dropping to her knees.

“You getting this?” he smiled at the camera. “Keep that magic wand thing going while I kick her ass.”

He grabbed hold of her throat and squeezed.

At the end of the day I understood. Multiple attacks. Nervous system attacks.


On the day that we recaptured Gold, Mici entered the room, brushed me aside and held the wand next to Gold’s head.

“Before you ask again, it’s a harmonics wand. Vixen and I worked this out . Remember the whole harmonics thing? If Gold’s nervous system is scrambled, her access to the powers is shut down. It makes her helpless and knocks her out. Another level brings her around, but keeps her scrambled.”

The whole time we spoke, Gold was stretched out, face-down on the floor. Leather straps pinned her legs together and held her arms to her sides. Her face was hidden in hair and defeat.

My sister activated her toy. The wand whined and glowed, and Gold slowly began to move. It was minutes before she could even moan with any strength. In that time, Mici stood back, letting me feel Gold’s ass, legs, thighs. I fingered the crease of her ass and pressed my fingers between those captured legs so that I could run my fingers over her vulva. With her golden gloss depowered, it brought the same joy as feeling a naked woman.

Perfect tight ass. She squirmed as I worked my finger in the slick cleft between those tight, round buttocks. She shuddered and squirmed as I pressed my thumb against her pussy.

“What ... next ?” she was able to hiss through those sensuous full lips.

“This, bitch!” Mici snapped as she grabbed a handful of blond and pulled Gold to her feet. Play time was over for me; it was Mici’s turn to work out her issues.

My sister’s face was a mask grim with all of those years of anger and frustration. She closed a hand around the golden one’s throat, and again the heroine was suffocating. I saw Mici’s nipples go hard in the leather. The harder it was for Gold to breathe, the deeper my sister panted, the harder her nipples got.

Gold’s full lips trembled, and her skin went flushed. Her weakened limbs strained to assist her, but the leather straps held her in place. Her breasts trembled as her body shuddered.

“Yes....!”

She hauled back and struck Gold full in the face with an open palm. The blond painfully absorbed it, cringing. The next was a fist that dug into her middle section, driving out her air. Mici let her fall. She scrambled, undoing the leather straps so that she could really enjoy beating Gold.

“How does it feel?”

Kick.

“You’re just a two-dimensional bitch. No more heroine!”

Kick.

“You’re just a panel in one of my brother’s comics.”

Gold groaned and moved to protect her ribs, but the evening had left her helpless. An average woman off the street could probably have done better. She curled like a child, trying to cover as the heavy black boots crashed into her. And crashed into her. And crashed into her.

I was hard and sweating. I was watching the darkness rise in Mici now. She was kicking and kicking, her eye looking more and more vacant. Her darkness was rising.

As I watched, something became ... wrong.

Kick.

“I’m going to fuck you, Tracy. How does that sound?”

She pulled Gold up from the floor, blond hair flailing.

Something was still wrong as she grabbed Gold under the arms, flung her face down on the table, and spread the big legs of the heroine. Mici quickly undid her own leather pants and ran her fingers over the thicket between her thighs.

“Mici....”

Something was wrong as I watched her put on the huge strap-on that was on the table. Her hands worked with urgency as she secured the big, fake cock to her crotch.

“Mi, remember the plan. Rakshasa wanted....”

For the first time, my sister smiled.

“Don’t worry, the plan is still fine.”

With that, she took hold of the muscular woman’s buttocks, spread them, and slowly began to enter her arsehold. If that costume had been at full power, bullets couldn’t have penetrated it. With her so scrambled, a dildo was enough.

I watched her face as she was violated. Her eyes widened, her lips trembled. Weak hands clawed at the table top.

Inch, after inch, after inch entered her firm, ripe backside, moving her in this painful undulation. Gold’s long body had, again found a ruler. The big leg muscles twitched, and tried to move her, but Gold was finished.

I walked up, wrapped my cock in the thick, blond mane, and for the last time masturbated in Gold’s hair.

“Feel better, little brother? You finally had your heroine.”