GOLD

Fetish

The Conclusion

Written by Mr. K

I slowly put my cock away, my balls sore from cumming so many times that day, and watched as my sister fucked away her anger. She drove that huge, rubber cock like she had been born with it, jamming her hips forward and fucking Gold. Fucking Gold. Fucking Gold.

The work had left my sister glossed with sweat, her hair a mess, but she worked away at that blond woman like a villainess possessed.

Tracy Hamond, the woman who was Gold, finally screamed a long, harsh howl that signaled her end. Her asshole was stretched out around the dildo, and her body was beaten. Her magic was depleted, and her spirit broken. She screamed for the ass fucking and the way a petty pair of siblings had used her as a toy.

Gold did howl that day. There! I felt it. She had honestly given up.


“Keep fucking her! Now’s the time!”


I was surprised by how slowly and gently my sister pulled out of Gold’s arse. The dildo had ridges around its circumference, and each one made its presence felt as it passed back through the tight, tortured hole. Gold shuddered for each one, moaning, twitching tiny bits each time. Once out, there was barely a moment before she entered the wet, blond vagina.

When we did the research I found an account of Gold’s pussy. There was actually an account of how good her twat was. It was just a few minutes at the end of a short video of one of her times in captivity. There she was, face-down on the top of a heap other superwomen. Her blond hair was spread over a tangle of red and brunette. Her super-fit body was piled atop other long legs, and shapely bodies. I saw purple, yellow, and blue spandex. A man sat behind the pile, sprawled in a chair, his feet propped up on the defeated women. He was dressed in leather and had long, rock star hair.


“Well, I beat ‘em all, and I fucked ‘em all. I must say, this bitch, Gold, had the tightest, juiciest pussy. She really did. I have to admit, when I was eating her, I wanted my cock in her. When I was fucking her, I wanted to eat me some Gold pussy.”


Now I watched my sister take Gold’s cunt. She gripped Gold’s curvy hips and fucked her like a man. The screaming subsided, but the golden woman was still being mastered. Now it was back to moaning.

I saw something rise in her eyes, and the power allowed me to listen to her

“Up...” she was telling herself. She pushed down with her palms and started to slowly rise. The golden globes of her breasts came up from the horizon of the table, and those strong female arms worked for her her. Her will was back! What was this?


“This bitch can’t make up her mind, can she?” Mici huffed. We looked at each other and smiled.


“I get what she’s doing. I finally see it. She’s giving up one moment, fighting the next. She was helpless before, then nearly killed me coming out of the grave. She knew my comics. She talked to me about my heroines.”


Anger rose in me again. I wanted the bitch broken ... and she was. She was bent over, fucked, and beaten. But she kept doing this shit to me; beaten then back, beaten then back. I grabbed her breasts and started twisting them. It was as if I had hold of the controls to the wench. Her face became a mask of pain.


“It’s over, Gold. Admit that you’re broken, and stop fighting!” My voice cracked with desperation there at the end. I knew that she heard that.

“You know it is,” she said through the thunder coming up from between her big, olympic thighs. Her eyes were drowsy with pain.

I dug my fingers in more and more, enjoying the feminine softness and roundness of her breasts.


“Surrender, Gold.”


I yanked down on her breasts, then thrust up, then twisted them again, then finally took hold of the hair again and slammed her down on that table. All the while the Queen of the Dildo was giving it to her. Mici could feel nothing but exhaustion, but the satisfaction that she could do this to Gold with a strapped-on symbol of power was enough.

I put my palms on her back and pressed all of my weight down on the hour-glass blond. The drained woman was not giving out an “up” command any longer. She was only registering pain.


“Hey, sis, why dontcha'’ take a breather? I have an idea. I think I know a way to put an end to this game.”


I didn’t have to say it twice. My sister slowly drew her hips back, panting and sweating, a loud sloppy wet kiss sound marking her departure from the wet blond pussy. Gold released a rippling sigh.


“Let’s put her on ice for a little bit, then fuck her some more. Mici.”


I leaned down, and whispered through tangled, wet hair.


“You’re going on ice, bitch.”


The power was working overtime, and I was reading Gold’s thoughts at a rapid pace. I meant to just gain some insight, and again, my anger grew as I saw how she had been feigning surrender. She had battled with giving up, but ....


“You bitch! This was ... you’ve regained some moxy since my master destroyed Impaler. You ... you bitch ... you looked at my capturing you as a way to get closer to my master. You have some sort of plan? You have a plan, huh? I have a plan. Here’s my plan.”


That was the final explanation. She had been regrouping her magic with that old man, and she had something in store for Rakshasa. She had used me. I was about to launch into a long explanation about how Gold had been toying with us, but Mici barked at me.


“Just do your freezing thing!” my sweaty sister yelped. I could tell that she wanted to plunge that huge, wet tool back into Gold, but she differed to me and my issues.


“You hear that, Tracy? We’re going to freeze you. You get that? Oh, I feel something coming through. You’ve been frozen before. You’ve been sealed in a block of ice, haven’t you? I could barely stand the helplessness.”


I had only assumed that the penetrating cold of being frozen in our basement chamber would tax her to the limit. When I listened to her thoughts and memories again, I saw that this was another of her foibles. I saw her battling the Congregation only a year before. I saw her fear of being frozen.

She had been defeated, and she had been frozen.

I saw a Congregation woman, a beautiful brunette in a business suit and heels, grab Gold from behind. She quickly wrapped her arms around Gold’s, pulling them behind her. A swarthy, handsome male rushed her from the front, only to catch a deft front kick in the belly. Gold projected her energy along with her martial arts prowess through that kick, sending him soaring. Next, she tossed the woman off, opening a crack in the floor with her body.

When a storm of them rushed her, they were flung off.

The other heroines who had entered the Congregation’s labyrinth with Gold now entered the chamber. One was Bora. Named after the icy winds of Eastern Europe, she was a Serbian weather witch who could call down the powers of freezing winds to paralyze her foes in blankets of frost. She wore glossy, black hip boots, arctic-blue tights on her sinewy thighs, and a skin-tight white swim-suit-type body suit. Her jet-black hair was short and stood in contrast to milky-white skin and vivid blue eyes.

Her daughter, Cold Front, had the same skin, eyes and hair, only worn long and straight. She had the compact, well-muscled and sculpted body of a gymnast and wore white vinyl boots and a second-skin shocking blue body suit. It was cut low and deep over her large, round breasts, presenting the beautiful crests.

These were the heroines who had come to face the Congregation beside Gold, and now entered the room. Instead of assisting her, though, the two moved robotically and obeyed their new masters and mistresses. They obeyed the Congregation.


“Freeze Gold now!”


I felt Gold’s recollection of shock and confusion as the two Slavic cold women - heroines who had battled on her side earlier that day - raised their hands, and formed a full-force blizzard in a cone around her. I would draw a picture of the icy defeat of Gold later. In my sketch, the voluptuous blond was standing in a block of ice, her face a mask of shock. Congregation members stood around her, applauding the scene.

In reality, it was more of a cocoon of icy crust.

I drew the next event, also. I drew the super mother and daughter on their knees fitting their mouths to the massive pricks of Congregation men. One after the other. I drew Bora bent over the long banquet table, crossed arms acting as a cushion, as
Cold Front held her mother’s pussy open for penetration.

And I drew Gold, frozen in her block of ice, watching as the women became willing tools.

And drew I Gold’s captivity - frozen and stored in the Congregation’s basement chamber for days. Frustration poured through her veins as she stood like a statue.


“You’re about to be frozen again, Gold. Just like when the Congregation forced Bora and Cold Front to freeze you.”


My chamber was the perfect mix of technology and magic. It was specifically made to fit Gold’s body, its inner-chamber being a perfect outline of her curvaceous form. It was ready to dump freezing chemicals down on her, and it also concentrated a delicious, little fragment of Rakshasa’s power. She would be alive, unharmed, but frozen solid. She would have her mind flooded with which ever torturous images he channeled through me and into her.

The resisting, feigning, giving up and then fighting back would end. The heroine I had captured would live in a world of torment. Whatever secret weapon she was saving up for when Rakshasa came to take her, simply wouldn’t matter.


We grabbed her arms, pulled her up, and again began to drag her. I could see my sister’s passion to fuck and beat and fuck and beat Gold come across. She pulled the shapely arm close to her body, enjoying the weakness of the blond. She would jerk and tug just to see the blond hair wave and sweep. She would grip and twist, hoping to leave marks on her flesh.


“Come on, bitch.” She took hold of Gold’s hand and forced it to touch the huge fake prick that she still wore. The long, golden fingers formed a loose circle around the dildo that had punished her sex.


“Your ass and pussy still hurt, don’t they? Remember that I did that to you, bitch! I’m going to do it over and over again.”


She tilted her head back and laughed. Our captive was silent.


I simply pulled enjoying a dragging scene right out of a comic. I had to see my script come off as I’d hoped.


Down the hall.


Down the stairs.


My cock was swelling as we went.


Soon we would turn her over to my master, but first, I would live out one more panel.


When we got the bitch down to my spartan basement, I looked her in the eye. She did her best to look back at me, but you could see the sluggishness in her face. Mici was opening the Gold-shaped chamber, and I was holding Gold up by her breasts. She reacted a bit when she heard the hiss of the chamber opening. She stiffened a bit as the hydraulics worked.


“That’s for you, beautiful.”


I let go of her breasts, and took hold of her face. I squeezed. For a moment, my tongue was in her mouth. I sucked her lips and tongue and searched her mouth like a prom date, then I pressed myself into those big, round breasts, and the curves of her hips. She was my woman.


Then I shoved her into the chamber and sealed it shut. Mici and I looked at each other. She smiled, and activated the machine.


It must have been an hour later, and we were watching Gold through a closed-circuit monitor. The camera was set down between her breasts, viewing up between the high perfect globes and showing us her placid, frozen, frosted face. A white frosted glaze covered her skin and clung to her hair.


“So what’s going through her mind, again?”


“While she’s frozen, she’s having a nightmare of ... well, here, let me show you.”


I was tired, but I was able to spread the power to Mici’s mind. We shared Gold’s nightmare. She saw herself floating in a void, surrounded by a blackness that spoke of neither an up nor down. She was drifting, and unable to render any sort of resistance as a huge, male hand materialized and gripped her. Four mighty fingers and a thumb formed a fist around her curvaceous form and squeezed. Her neck arched and her head tilted back. She cringed and curled her lips back.


“It’s you,” beamed Mici. When I looked at my sister, she was overjoyed.


“What do you mean?”


“Remember, you had a Europa action figure when you were a kid?”


Flashback. Yes. I recalled the stiff, plastic, costumed woman that came in a cardboard box. My father rolled his eyes when I took her from below the Xmas tree and held her to my chest. He left the room when I exulted over having “my own superheroine.”


“Remember how you used to just squeeze and crush her in your hand. You’d say you were a giant or a giant space man crushing the heroine to death. That’s what’s happening to her. Baby, you’ve transplanted your thoughts into that bitch’s head. Gold is frozen, she’s having a nightmare, and it’s being driven by your subconscious. You’re in Gold’s head.”


As far as Gold knew, the crushing force of my childhood hand was her only reality. When she tried to fight back, all she could feel was the stifling cold.


“I do remember. She’s suffocating, her breasts being crushed, her back about to break. That’s how I imagined Europa; she feels like she’s about to die.”


“Remember what else you would do to her?”


I saw Gold’s nightmare taking on the scenes of my childhood; a hand moved her down, and next a massive prick - a cock that dwarfed her tall body - was in the shot.


“You still had that doll when you discovered jerking off, remember?”


“I remember.”


The tingle rose in my groin as I remembered using my Europa doll to stroke off.


The fist pulled her close, the massive organ moved forward and they met, the big dick head mashing itself into her face. Smothering. Covering her nose, eyes, mouth. In her nightmare, Gold was being smothered by a giant cock.

Her blond hair was a wild web, and her face hidden as the big dick started to make circles on her face. The hard-on grew bigger, and the circles harder as Gold moaned and fought for air. She finally took a gulp of air, as the big hand laid her against the underside of the shaft and started it rub. The heroine in gold whimpered and groaned as her big, round breasts, and every inch of her slick magical body was used to rub a cock the size of a Roman column.


“It’s you jerking off with Gold,” My sister smiled. We watched as her legs were allowed to spread to either side of the massive prick. The action grew faster and faster.


“Looks like the nightmare you is about to cum.”

The fountain of white blanketed her. It fell in streams over the hand and the woman, and coated Gold completely as she was placed right below the hole. There were glimpses of her trying to catch her breath, or scream, but her face was quickly shrouded in hot, salty seed.

The cum quickly hardened to an impenetrable crust.

The hand dropped her.


A cum statue, Gold dropped through the void like a rock.


The next scene I I saw from Gold’s nightmare was, at first, puzzling. A table had been laid. In a beautiful sylvan clearing, it was set with the finest place settings, wine, fruit .... it was a preparation for a feast. Everything was prepared, but the giant, human-sized silver platter in the middle of the table was strangely empty.

Around the table sat a gallery of her enemies, some I recognized, some I didn’t. The Rooks. Sayter. Impaler, Scylla and Charibdis. Succubus and Incubus. They drank, chatted, sampled food and wine, but always kept looking heavenward.


“When’s the guest of honor coming?” asked one of the Rook twins.


“Soon enough ... Ah! Here she comes!”


The cum encrusted figure of Gold came plummeting down, and landed smack dab in the middle of the platter. A general exalt rose up from the gathering as the jism statue came to rest in the center of the table.


“There we go!”


Forks and knives went to work breaking the cum covering like pie crust. It fell away in flakes and chunks until the stiff, helpless figure of the golden one lay stretched out in front of them.

I was watching her dream like thrilling t.v. show.


There was a brief pause. A hush as the nightmare villains looked at their foe. In her frozen, nightmare state Gold could feel them gloating over her beaten form, and could feel herself helpless to do anything.


“Dig in!”


Succubus was the first put her knife and fork to the task. She started with one of the big, round breasts....


It must have been hours later, nightmares later, that we took her out of the freezer. She’d had visions and nightmares and horror visions of being destroyed and crushed and over and over. I liked the image of her being feasted upon, but the best was probably They say that you can’t die in your dreams, but Gold learned something different down in that chamber.
We took some time to enjoy the sight of her, body rigid and cold. A statue. This was the woman who had defeated so many supervillains, and here she was, the toy of an average man.

We thawed her, smacked her around to get her going, but she was still groggy and cold to the touch. She was dead weight as we dragged her back up.


“I’m going to have you over and over, “ said my sister. “Then, we’ll freeze you in a nightmare again. Later, I’ll fuck you again. This could go on forever, Gold.”


She pulled Gold close, yanking her away from me, and roughly fixed her mouth to the blond’s. She raped Gold’s mouth with her tongue. Over her shoulder, I could see the captive’s face. For the first time, her eyes looked sullen and her mind seemed devoid of fight and devoid of trickery. What ever plan she’d had, whatever she was going to try was truly beaten out of her.

When she pulled away, she let Gold sink forward and into her arms. There was a moment, almost gentle, that I watched as my sister pressed her face into the beaten woman’s tangled hair and breathed in like a lover. She let that flow into the next second of her scooping Gold up in her arms.

I loved the flex and the thickness of the big muscles in Gold’s thighs as she was curled up in my sister’s arms. We went to the kitchen this time.


Again, I watched as she mastered Gold, strapped on the dildo, and created a thing of beauty. The heroine was bent over the table, all of her blond hair pushed up and back so that the sweet curve of her neck was exposed to my sister’s bites and sucks. Her arms were flung out, and her body jerked and rocked as that big, famed pussy of her’s accepted the toy. She wasn’t unconscious, and I could barely hear the muttered message that escaped her moist, pouty lips.


“What did you say, Gold,” I whispered close to her ear. Her hair still smelled sweet, and she still had a delicious, peachy glow to her skin. I watched those sensuous lips start to move.


“Sur ... ren ... der. Let him ... let Rakshasa ... have me. Giving up ....”


I was hard again. I looked into the blue of her eyes, and the fear rose again. Something was wrong again.


“You’re lying again. You bitch. You’re trying to trap my master again! How are you doing this? How are making me believe one thing and then ... how are you masking your thoughts? I keep breaking through, but each surrender is a fake.”


Her body jerking and jolting from the thrusting of the toy, she spoke to me again.


“Europa, number 57.”


Just as the anger boiled over in me, I felt a presence.


Rakshasa. My master. My patron. I heard his voice before I knew he had materialized in the room. Fear rose briefly in my throat, but his smile told me that I had not crossed any boundaries. He wasn’t angry. I had done as he wished: I used my fetish and the powers that he gave me to do my best to bring Gold low. Normally, he would instantly make her suck his cock as a sort of sign of his mastery. Instead, though, he seemed to just delight in the lesbian fuck she was taking.

And he smiled graciously.


“You’ve done a fine job,” he smiled. “Much better than your predecessor.”


“Thank you, sir.”


We were both drawn to the labored huffing and moaning that came from the table. My master glided over to the two women, his feet not touching the floor. He took a moment to absorb the pultritude of the view. Gold’s sexy long body was joined to my sister’s by a huge rubber cock.


“You like having her this way, yes?”


Mici was sweaty and nearing exhaustion, but her whole body was behind the thrusting of the tool. Wet smacking sounds came from the heroine’s pussy, and the smell of her juices rose in the air.


“Yes...”


“Your brother likes her also. Let me give you some pointers on having Gold.”



There was no need to respond. We would do as the tigerman said. He raised a hand, and the scene ended. Mici was left standing there, the glistening cock jutting out from her crotch, and Gold was hovering in midair. She was inverted, hair sweeping the floor, her body a rigid plank. Her face was expressionless.


“Look at her,” he said, pointing at her body. “Look at the perfect curves. See the perfect proportions, the breasts, the hips, the waist.”


I looked at how lost his face was. This man-god of omnipotent power seemed to moon over the beaten heroine. He seemed to adore her in a way that I never could. I was in awe of his awe.

He snapped his fingers, and she rotated 180 - face-down in midair - then again, then face-down, then face-up. She spun and flipped. With slight movements of his hand Rakshasa sent her twirling around in space. Mici stood there, a mix of delight and shock on her face as the most powerful being on the planet used a six-foot-tall golden-glossed woman as a toy. He smiled, and she came to an upright position. God! What it did for me to see the blank expression on her face. Now she was really under control. She began to spin like a top.


“I don’t blame you for not knowing about her little plot. She can be a sneaking bitch,” he explained. “Let’s see what that secret weapon was all about.”


Gold stopped spinning. The blond mop was wild, and she was panting.


“Well, before we do that me must have the proper greeting,“ he corrected himself “The sucking.” He considered the paralyzed, floating Gold, who hovered several feet away.


“Don’t worry, Gold, I’ll come to you.”


He was in his human form, and opened his robe to reveal a massive prick. It hung down to his knees and seemed to be snaking around of it own volition. It angled its head at the captive woman - who was blank-faced - and shot out like an attacking viper. It stretched it’s length, extended across the space, and jammed itself into her mouth. Past her lips, into her mouth, Rakshasa’s prick forced itself into Gold.

Suddenly she was animated and giving head. She sank to the floor, to her knees, and began working her head back and forth around a big, dick that did it’s best to go down her throat. Her eyes were now wide, but she sucked his supernatural cock until a geyser of milky man spume overflowed her lush lips.


“Nice. Now stand.”


Painted with jism, she rose.


“Now, you’ve been playing a game with my young apprentice here.”


I beamed at that.


“That old man that mentors you gave you some new power, some weapon to spring on me. And you’ve been able to mask your thoughts. Tell me your plan.”


His voice was calm as he made his demand, and her’s was calm as she followed it. She didn’t speak like a robot, she just told him. She has no choice.


“I was ready for you to come. I let them have me to lure you. I would cast a spell that would overload your powers and turn them back on you.”


“I see. Cast the spell on yourself, Gold.”


She raised her hands, turning the palms toward herself, her breasts. There was a struggle in her, then a flash of golden light. We all smiled an overwhelming smile of joy and awe. My master looked at us ... and we applauded. The pounding in my groin was too much to stand. All of this ... the powers, the ordeal, all of it was overwhelming and I feel tears well in my eyes. The sight that presented itself was ... glorious.

Gold was gold.

Solid gold.She was a statue. Her hands were back at her sides, her lips were pursed, and she was a solid gold statue.


The heroine had been turned to gold.


“Ok,” he laughed “ I helped her with the turned to gold bit.”


Then he turned to us.


“You’ve been great. You win the prize. I’m satisfied with what you’ve done, and I grow weary of this game. I must have her. I’m taking her, and leaving you with this.”


He snapped his fingers, and I was carried back to my childhood. I remembered cardboard boxes with plastic fronts. I remembered the curvaceous bodies of stiff, plastic toy women who came to me bound in plastic strips and staring blankly from the shelves of toy stores.


“You wanted a new toy, yes?”


MYSTIC ACTION FIGURE was written in green letters at the top of the woman-sized purple box. Inside, there was a paralyzed, lean red head in a purple body stocking.


As I went hard, Rakshasa disappeared with Gold.