GOLD

Fetish

Written by Mr. K

GOLD: FETISH 1


“Show me this art you have created,” he smiled. He sat back in his big, plush throne and smiled.

Like a child eager to please, I held up my sketch pad.

The first sketch was done as a comic book cover. It was entitled GOLD. I had that written out in huge golden letters. Below it, I had drawn the heroine, her body dangling in midair. Her limbs were dangling in crooked, her head sagging. Puppet strings were attached to her hands, boots, head, and breasts. A tiger’s paw held the controls of the strings.

“I like it,” he smiled.

The next was also a comic book cover. GOLD. In this one, she was tied to a giant, tiger-striped cock. Her arms and legs were pinned to her sides, and thick ropes lashed her statue-like form to the giant prick.

This also pleased him.

The last one was simply Gold, her face in rapture. She held a huge cock close to her mouth, and a shower of cum was dousing her face.

“Very nice.”

I put the pad down, and started to thank him again.

“What will you call yourself?” Rakshasa asked me.

I stood there for a moment, just feeling the new powers surging through me. I knew that he could have given me more, but he said that he didn’t trust human hubris. I would have to be partially the powers he gave me, and partially my own creativity.

“I want ... “ I though about what I meant to do. “I will call myself Fetish.”


GOLD: FETISH 2


Gold’s nipples were hard and swollen, telling me that the powers, and the drug, had worked. They jutted out profoundly in the slick, glossy gold of her body sheath. I pinched them , and she squirmed, twisting against the chains that I’d used to stretch her out. I used my forefingers and thumbs, working a rhythm against the buds. Pinching. Twisting.

It had been so easy to trap her that the fun had gone right out of it. I guess I was making up for that by playing with her big, round, breasts.

They weren’t ridiculously large and juggy. They were large, high, firm, pert and supple. When I first watched her fall to her knees, then collapse, face-first to the floor, I reveled in the natural sway and bounce in them. They were the type of breasts that women buy, only these were real.

They swayed, and bounced when she fell, and spread to the sides when her prone position left them mashed against the floor.

They rocked and hung down as I moved her, grabbing her just below them and dragging her across the bare wood floor. Then there was a beautiful moment: Gold with her long, strong arms hanging limp, head down, hair hanging, shapely, athletic legs limp and crumpled. And those big breasts swaying.

And those high-heeled boots making a long, dragging noise as I pulled her along.

I had used the new power to trap her, subdue her, knock her out in swirl of blond and a guttural gasp.

It was meant to be. Ever since I was a kid, it was meant to be.

All of Gold’s six foot beauty in chains was meant to be.

Gold, chained up, listening to me at that moment was meant to be.

“I need to get started with this,” I told her.

I picked up the control pad and clicked ON. There was a great creaking noise, then the big blade began to swing - a huge pendulum blade swinging over my captured Gold. I’d gone over hundreds of old designs to create this thing. All of my work had created a heavy, curved blade that swung with an evil rhythm from side to side. Slowly it lowered. I savored the moment, feeling myself go hard, and not looking down to see the captive woman yet. I could hear her, but I didn’t look yet. She grunted, struggling feebly against the restraints. I didn’t look, but I was hard listening to her sounds and watching that blade.

Finally, I let my eyes drop down to see the long, golden woman, my long-bodied golden captive with the body of a beach volleyball player. Or a goddess. I was so lucky to have caught this superheroine. While the others like Thunder might wear spandex or rubber, Gold wore magic. She’s worn a golden body glove for a time, but now her magical powers had progressed to the point of what she had on now. When it was time to become Gold, she covered herself with a liquid, golden elixir that covered her just like a skin. It was more of a golden tattoo than anything else. It formed a mask, and the high heels of boots, but was basically a golden skin.

To emulate her, a woman would have to paint her perfect naked body with golden paint, and don high-heeled boots to match.

With her nervous system assaulted, her magic was deadened and her golden body sheath nothing but golden nudity. She still wore the golden hue, only it did not protect her or empower her.

Chained down spread-eagle on the slab, she could only watch as the pendulum blade began to swing down from the ceiling. Each swing brought it closer, and I grew stiffer thinking about it slicing through her narrow waist.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Even in her chains, her tone was calm and reserved.

I leaned over and kissed her head.

“I’m killing you poetically.”

No longer able to resist, I opened my jeans, pulled my erection out, and began to stroke. The full length of my cock hovered just above her face, and Gold watched - her voice still placid and controlled - as I masturbated with one hand, and held the control with the other.

“My death excites you?”

I licked my lips, and looked at the rise and fall of her round, golden breasts. My eyes leapt from there to the thighs. They were big, and feminine-perfect. They were golden-sheathed and thick, perfecting the curves of her lean body. I stroked harder.

“It always has.” My voice was rippling.

“Explain what you mean,” she said sotto vocce. “You want to have me? You want to kill me.”

The blade fell closer, my stroking matched the beat of the descending steel, and Gold could only watch. This was it. This was the feeling I’d always cherished. Ever since I’d first saved my money to run down to the corner store to buy superheroine comics, this was what I cherished. Every heroine in chains, or beaten on those colorful pages told me that my destiny was to dominate them.

Now I was a man. Now I had the money and knowledge. I wanted only one. Gold would do. Gold, in her magical golden second-skin sheath that served as her costume. The boots. The mask. She was a superheroine. She was tall and built like an athlete. Powerful muscle. Hard, defined abs. Beautiful, thick blond hair that swept down past her shoulders.

When I first captured her - knocked her out with the power and watched as she rolled to the floor - I played with her limp, prone body, all the while filming her.

I dragged her by her legs, then her arms, then her hair. I held her against me. Hours went by as I kneaded her body.

I put her in an animal squeeze cage.

I tied her with rope and hung her upside down.

I tossed her on my bed, stripped, rubbed my bare body against the slickness of her golden skin costume until I came on her thigh.

Finally, I chained her below the great blade and woke her.

She was a superheroine and she was mine.

Her breathing was hard. The blade was only a few inches above her. I stroked my cock over the I stroked my cock over her peril. Peril.

“You’re in trouble, huh Gold?”

Just as the blade kissed her flat stomach, I pushed STOP and shot my load on her face. The first stream landed on her lips. I pumped the rest over her eyes and nose, laughing, smiling. I hadn’t jerked off in days, so now copious amounts poured over her.

“So, you caught me to toy with me?” she said, her voice coming cool and smooth, even as a milky, sticky stream stretched between her lips. I looked down her body; that huge blade looked powerful pressing down on her slim waist.

“Yes. You’re a childhood dream. My very own superheroine to abuse.”

She didn’t try anything as I moved the blade, undid the chains, and prepared her for her next trial. I took her wrists and pulled her to her feet. She tottered, barely gaining her feet as I pulled her upright. The drugs still polluted her blood. I looked her up and down.

“You know that you can’t escape, right?”

I slapped her just to emphasize my point. Again, I hardened as I watched her head snap left, blond hair covering her face. Something rose in me, something from those childhood days, and I felt myself grow stronger. Darker. Something hateful drove me now. I smacked her the other way, my heart fluttering as the blond web splashed across her cummy face again. Another slap. That tall, muscular woman rocked back now, her body buckling. My bitch slapping was grinding down the drug-weakened superheroine.

“You know that there is no escape, right?”

Her eyes half-closed, her lips half-open, a blond mess covering her face, sticking to the cum, Gold only groaned. I liked the sound of that.

“Say it.”

I grabbed one of her breasts ... her left breast ... and pulled her upright again. Quickly, I moved my hands. I closed my left like a vice around her windpipe. With my right, I dug two stiffened fingers up into her crotch. My hands would have meant nothing if her powers were at full-tilt. With those powers broken down the way they were, I could feel her pussy with no problem. Aside from that mask and the boots that are formed from her magic, the woman might as well have been naked. I strangled her and dug my fingers into her sex.

“Say it.”

Harder. I dug my fingers into her sex and squeezed her throat. Her skin grew flushed beneath her mask and her powerful valkerie body trembled. A vice on her windpipe. A claw in her pussy. Her body trembled and rocked. Her eyes glassy, she finally chirped “No ... escape ...”

I let her drop. That gave me a moment to look at that long, lean body and contemplate her. My own superheroine, she was perfect. Beautiful. Powerful. Her limbs were long and well developed, with thick, sculpted muscles. A perfectly curved, tight, athletic butt was there to greet me as I traced my way down her narrow waist. Six feet tall. Blonde and ... mine.
I had prepared this house for her, each room put together to allow a new torture for her. I could use any one to kill her, or I could just enjoy the view. Gold groaned as I scooped my hands under her arms and lifted her from the the floor. Her head sagged to one side showing me that the drug was still in control. She could only sigh and allow me to move her around like a dummy.

High-heeled boots dragging the floor again, she swayed in my grip as I hauled her down the main hallway of my home. My home. My place. This was the place that I put together for Gold. It was room upon room upon chamber upon chamber that I built for her. All of my favorite perils were laid out for Gold. All of my dreamy summer afternoons.

We entered “The Wet Room.” It was a standard-sized room with a huge water tank in the center. It was full. The chains that would hold Gold hung from a track on the ceiling and the smell of the chlorine water that would take her life filled the room. This was part two.

I dropped her on the floor, and hit the button that lowered the chains and manacles. She lay there, arms stretched out, knees up, legs bent, drowsy eyes watching as I lowered the restraints and hooked her up. One cuff on each wrist. Again, I pushed an “ON” button and felt a rise in my pants.

Steel chains groaned, lifting the long, solid body of my slave into the air. Higher. Higher. It dragged her up until she hung straight down in one lean line, booted toes swaying in the air. It dragged her over until she hung above my tank of water.
I hit another switch, and she slowly descended into the clear tank. Gold’s costume already had the slick luster of wet metal. Now it seemed to almost shine as water closed around her hour-glass body. Around her hips. Her waist. Her big, round breasts. Her neck.

The water closed over her head and finally her shackled arms.

A steel lid closed over her.

Gold’s powers were gone, and she was a simple woman. Women need air. She was dying. I sat on a folding chair, my cock already out. My eyes met her’s. The game would be simple. Watch the strain in her face, the convulsions in her body. Enjoy the bubbles escaping from the full lips. Her long, powerful legs moved. Her blond hair floated in a golden cloud around her perfect face, as she tried desperately to control her body’s need for air.

There it was again. That dark power creeping up from my crotch as I watched another comic book peril turn to flesh. The drowned heroine. I stroked my cock and mocked her with a smile and a nod as her eyes became wide, and then drowsy in the steady stream of bubbles that escaped her nose and mouth.

At the moment that Gold drowned, I came.