VISIGOTH
GOLD
by Mr. K
I walked back down to the factory floor, and back to where I left Gold. Now I had to pick my way around the debris that covered the space over which we had fought. Packing crates and this and that were everywhere. Testimony of our battle. The place was dim, but what light there was glinted off the golden second-skin of her costume. There she was, right where I left her. Right where I beat her.
She was face-down among the piles of boxes and packing materials that we’d knocked down during our fight. Her arms were spread out at her sides, one up on a crushed box, the other lost in a heap of Styrofoam. Her legs, with those shapely sensuous muscles were spread, slack, and limp. Her right one was bent at the knee and draped over a cardboard tube, the left one was straight out, partially covered in clear plastic. That defined, sleek swimmer’s back rose and fell with her breathing. She wasn’t actually unconscious, just stunned and groggy from my last attack. I made my way down, kicking the detritus away as I went, until I could stand right next to her. I leaned down and touched the tight, round contour of her ass.
“Nothing personal, beautiful blond. You were just in the way. I’m glad that I met you, though.”
I looked at her body. She was lean and muscular, but she wasn’t at all masculine. She had this perfect tall, strong, sleek look about her. She had an athlete’s physique mixed with a model’s large-breasted, curvaceous body. She was perfect.
I kneaded her ass.
“You aren’t going to try fighting anymore, are you?”
I think that she tried to say something. She must have tried to say “no.” I’ll always assume that she tried to say “no.”
I took hold of part of that blond wave and slowly lifted her head. I used the other to push and part the hair that masked her face. Her face had it also beautiful - high-cheek-boned symmetry. Her eyes were sleepy.
“I’m going to add you to the artwork. Do you understand?”
She tried to move, and I let her. I let go of her hair, sat back on the boxes and stacked cardboard, I crossed my arms across my chest, and watched, rather amused, as the beaten woman slowly came up to all fours. You could see the pain in her muscles as she struggled. I took a moment to look at her, watch her crawling on the steel floor. She was trying hard to keep it together and get back in the fight, but my last attack had pretty much done her in. I could see all of that sleek, powerful muscle moving in her golden second skin, but she was weak as a kitten. She was trying to focus, you could tell, but she groaned as she crawled. She was in pain.
“Give up, Gold,” I soothed. “It’s ok.”
She tried to look up at me, but she was so out of it. I snickered and dropped down beside her. I snaked my left arm around her waist, and held her in place. I held her tightly, I extended the longest finger of my right hand and slipped it into my mouth, I sucked it, wetting it, and moved it down to the perfectly curved ass.
“Here you go, blondie.”
With one smooth, strong push I slipped my finger through her costume and into her asshole. The costume was depowered, and little more than golden paint on perfect skin. It allowed me in, and the tall woman shuddered and whined as my finger entered her up to the last knuckle. I twisted it. She squealed.
“See? See how easily I can hurt you? Just relax before I make it hurt worse than it has to be.”
The woman’s ass was so nice, tight and hot. Even though it opened up for me, I was still excited by how tight her asshole was. I was asshole connoisseur at that point, and she was tighter than Alley Kat, who was my favorite up until that point.
I pushed forward with my right hand, and guided her with my finger up her ass. I moved her along, the heroine on all fours like a dog. I moved her up to the nearest pillar, then drew my finger out of her ass. The woman’s whole long body shook.
I took hold of her hips, pushed her down and rolled her over. She was on her back for a moment, then I took hold of that hair on the top her head and yanked her up to sit against the pillar. The moan was pure art, the sway of her breasts was pure art.
She sat back against that pillar, her legs spread, her arms limp, her head cocked to one side. She watched as I pulled my leather jacket off and neatly folded it beside her. Her eyes fell on the black, tribal tattoos on my skin.
“Lot’s of tats, huh?” I said. She couldn’t say a thing, of course.
“This one’s for you.” I pointed at the twisted rope of three serpents that coiled around my arm from my wrist to my elbow. “Just relax. We’ll be together soon.”
I gripped her boot, holding her at the ankle. I closed my eyes, and summoned the power, this time sending it to my serpents. Her eyes widened as she felt the energy running through to her body. She tried to say something, I think, as the serpents began to pulse and swell. They rose, first like a set of scars, then like things with real mass and fullness. They rose, pulling their heads effortlessly up from my skin. They took on dimension, and girth, and fullness.
My black, tribal snakes slithered from my arm.
I moved back to give it room, and soon Gold was looking at a huge, pulsing black snake the size of a Buick. The darting pink tongue shot out over and over, slipping up her inner thigh and coming straight up to her waist. Another shot its tongue out across Gold’s face. Another slithered across her thigh.
They started the feeding faster than usual, silently slipping its big head between her narrow waist and the pillar. It slithered quickly down to the big muscle in her right leg and coiled, and coiled, and coiled. It’s tail wrapped around her neck. Another was overlapping his mate, wrapping itself around her waist and coiling her legs. The snakes coiled and coiled.
Her weak arms reached up, touched the animated tattoo, and just rested there. What could she do, really? As the snake started to pulse and glow with energy I smiled at Gold and said, “Just let it happen.”
I was about to say something to Gold about exactly what my energy beast was doing, when a leather high-heeled boots clocked me in the back of the head. I had one of those moments when the snapping head and the dizzy, spinning world were all that I knew. I hit the ground and looked up to see Cutlass standing over me. She was a bit blurry, but it was Cutlass.
“Hello, Cutlass. You want some, also?”
I looked her up and down.
“Yeah, I could use you.”
She was a beauty, also. She was curvy and had a perfect set of high, firm tits. She had that tight, round ass, like Gold, and she had thick reddish-brown hair that swept down across her left shoulder. She was about 5’ 7”, but stood taller in her purple, high-heeled boots. Those shapely legs were strong and sculpted in her purple fishnet stockings. Her body was an hourglass, and she wore a second-skin, low-cut purple body suit. My eyes were drawn to the blossom of her cleavage.
“Oh, yeah,” I smiled, nodding. “You’re perfect.”
I was in motion, moving low. I moved to sweep her legs out from under her, but she popped up, leaping over my sweep. I came to my feet, and caught another kick to my face. This was an inside-to-outside kick that knocked me down again. She wasn’t ready for me to pop right back up the way I did.
“My turn,” I said.
I punched Cutlass in the face. I used the full force of my power, and I hit that perfect model’s face with a big square fist. She released a strangled cry and flew back, crashing through pillar. There were those fishnet legs and high heels in the air. There they were curved and motionless in the steel and plaster wreckage of the pillar. She was down.
I gathered my resolve, and kicked that woman as hard as I could. The kick drove a strangled cry out of her. I did it again, and she half-rolled, half-slid in the rubble. She let out another throaty groan. Again, I used my foot and rolled her on her face. Cutlass lay there, sprawled out on the floor.
“You can stop resisting. Just let what’s happening to Gold happen to you. I have a nice one for you. A dragon.”
It was important that she feel my strength. Not just my powers, but my strength. I walked up, stood with my feet on either side of her lithe body and grabbed that reddish brown hair. She gave a guttural groan as I yanked her head up, shook her, and then pulled her to her knees. Cutlass gasped and looked up at me. There was something in her eyes that was still defiant, but it was fading behind what I was doing to her. I took hold of her tender throat and squeezed. Those perfect, lush lips were curled, and her eyes were squinting. Her teeth were clenched
“This will only take a moment or two. I just need you to recognize my strength.”
I looked over at Gold. The snakes had grown and merged and were pulsing with energy. I looked back to Cutlass, and that was when she hit me. I don’t know where she got the strength, but pain exploded through my groin, and I lifted up off the ground. Muscles buckled and weakened as I curled up and hit the floor. The pain that Cutlass gave was something unique, something I’d never felt before. Her body was aglow with the old British magic that gives her sisters and her the super to go with their heroinism. Each blow that she dealt out rocked my body through each cell. I could barely focus.
Focus. Somewhere, in the midst of her kicks and blow, I found a way to focus. My back, blood running into my eyes, I held my palms up for her to see, and spoke the sacred word. I made the power bolt more powerful than the one I’d used to knock Gold down.
She screamed. She fell again. Her hands locked in a strong death grip around her breasts, and she tumbled forward…right into my arms. Once more, I grabbed her by her throat and pulled her to her knees. Those breasts swayed and her head sank back and much as it could with my hands around her throat.
“Just let it happen.”
The power was pulsing again, sending the animation force to the black, tribal dragon on my left forearm. I watched and bathed in the glory of the feeling as my dragon rose and flexed and pulled itself up from my arm. It grew, and stretched out its claws and wings, reaching out to my curvy captive.
Cutlass’s eyes were wide, and she brought her hands up as the claws came forward. There was the usual sulfur smell and the crackling noise as another of my beasts came to life and took hold of the woman. It gripped her wrists and pulled her close, sending its tail up and around to grip her neck. It pulled her closer. It squeezed.
“He has something for you.”
She couldn’t see it well because of how the creature held her, but we both knew that his prick was extending from his black, steaming body. It was knobby and thick, black and twisting and turning of its own volition. It grew and lengthened, seeking out the pungent wetness of a cunt. It moved like a sniffing dog, like an searching animal, until it found its mark.
There was a sudden shudder that went through her body, and a moist sucking sound erupted between her thighs.
She looked at me, and her eyes widened with a sudden shock and pain.
Each inch of the dragon cock plunged past her labia, then searched her pussy, then drove all the way up into her womb. It curved and twisted, moving knob by knob into Cutlass’s dripping sex. Her muscular legs shook, and squirmed, but the stylish heroine could only offer little chirping protestations as the serpent raped her.
And then the serpent enveloped her.
And then she was art.
I tasted my date’s iced coffee then gave it back to her with a smile.
“There’s a little something different in there,” I said.
“A little more mocha than usual,” she smiled back. She was looking stunning. Moist black curls tumbled down, hiding half of her face. She had her curves poured into a black tank top and tight black jeans. Morianna.
“A little more mocha. So, show me the new body art.”
She slipped her black leather jacket off and my eyes immediately fell to the glowing art on her upper, right arm. It was the masked face of a lovely, raven-haired Latina. She has a broad, luscious red mouth, and she looked at the viewer with a sleepy-eyed sensuality. That was the heroine called Dark Moon.
Below that was a blond in a blue mask, her hair wild as if swept by the wind, her mouth open as if I the grip of orgasm. That was Ms. Freedom. Those were the heroines that she had collected with her energy beasts. That was why she had such a healthy glow that day. Her skin had this new, peachy spring about it.
“Nice! Want to see…?”
“Show me!” she said. I must have looked as good as I felt now that I had consumed my two new women.
I pulled away my black, leather jacket, rolled up my sleeve, and her eyes fell on the newest tattoos that adorned my body. On my upper, right arm a lean blond in a mask had her head thrown back, her eye closed. On my left arm, down by the dragon, a stylish dark haired woman had her face partially masked by her salon-perfect hair as the dragon’s tail fucked her with gusto.
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