SNARE
by Mr. K
3.
Snare’s eyes slowly came into focus. It took several long moments, images
fading in and out, but they slowly came back to her. She could see legs.
Blurry, moving about, there were women’s legs in skin-tight spandex,
and a man’s in the trim, creased material of a business suit. Their
voices were distant and disconnected in the fog of her brain.
“I think she’s waking,” said a female voice.
She could see the delicate bare feet and second-skin of the woman who had
dominated her. The dusky Asian
padded silently around the Italian designer leather of the man.
“Yeah, she’s waking up, but Night Star isn’t. Guess you got
her good.”
“They’ve both been in and out.”
Snare tried to refocus. The pain in her upper body
immediately told her that
her arms were bound behind her back. It wasn’t just her wrists , her
arms had been captured and bound tightly behind her. Her elbows were pinned
together, and her upper arms and wrists were lashed tightly by her own rope
done up in coils and knots. She felt her arms and shoulders taking on that
dull throb that comes before total numbness.
And they had done up her curvy, muscular legs with their own rope just as
tightly.
Her ankles were crossed, one over the other, and tied that way. White rope
was coiled and wrapped three times around the purple of her slick, tight
boots. Another length was wrapped three times around her calves, squeezing
the muscles. They used some sort of rubber or plastic electrical cord to
tie her thigh together. There was something rather beautiful about the black
of the cord against the deep purple snake skin of her costume.
They had crotch-roped her.
It had been done with care and exactitude, pulled up tightly into her small
mound. Through the skin-tight material, they had found the thick lips of
Snare’s sex and snuggled the black, nylon rope in between them. With
the coarse rope nestled against her clit and sex folds, through the costume,
they had wrapped it around her tiny waist making an excruciating chastity
belt.
She drooled around a ring gag.
As her mind slowly put her senses back together, bit by bit, she grew aware
of the moisture on her chin , down her neck , and in her twisted and tangled
hair. She grew aware of the fact that her mouth was held open in a circle
by a metal ring gag. She knew that with her big breasts thrust forward, and
her mouth made into a perfect circle, she looked like some sort of ridiculous
sex doll.
Snare tried to crane her head up to see the winners, the people who had captured
her and bound her this way. The
man, an African in a dark designer suit, was kneeling down to speak close
to her face. She could see the strength in his frame and his powerful
musculature, even below the suit.
And there was her utility belt. Slung like an old-west gunslinger’s
gun belt, her own martial arts weapons sagged in a rakish slant on the round,
smooth hips of the Asian woman who had captured her. She smiled, cooing a
bit, stroking the captured artifact with delicate brown fingers, and shifting
her hips slightly. She smiled at Snare.
“Very nice, sweety. I’m a fan of
kali also. We can talk about that, eh?”
Her hands found the two sticks in their holster, and she stroked the captured
weapons. Snare’s tools of the trade had become trophies.
For some reason, at that moment, she became aware of how sore her nipples
were. Somewhere along the way, when she was unconscious, after she was defeated,
after she was drugged, someone had bitten and sucked her big tits. They had
bitten and sucked, but something else must have taken place for the amount
of pain she was
experiencing.
Sister Dragon cocked her head to one side, still smiling at Snare, and
Snare’s eyes drifted back up to the powerfully built black guy with
the
“I’m going to bloody well relish this,” he said.
She could feel his strength when he grabbed the hair on the top of her head
and pulled into a half-sitting position.
The other hand cupped her big right tit. His grip was like a vice,
and her breast was soft and yielding in it as he twisted and squeezed. He
was punishing her.
“The work that these women and I have set out to do is important, whore.
This work that we do is about the betterment of mankind. It is about an end
to disease. It is about improved quality of life.
Do you understand? We are trying
to end death here? That’s why I have to punish you as much as simply
stop you.”
He shook her head to emphasize his point. Something in her moved to make
her squirm and try to break free, but her body gave up a brief struggle.
The man smiled.
“It was fun putting clamps on your nipples while you were still out,
Snare, but I need more. You have to be made to understand. You, and that
one over there, are …must
be … must be … made to understand.”
“What I am going to do to you will cause suffering. It will cause
humiliation. That will be a lesson for you.”
He traced the wide head down her forehead, down the pert curve of her nose,
and brought it to rest at the threshold of her gaping mouth. First, there
was the musk and the saltiness, then she could taste skin. Her tongue seemed
to almost spasm below the slowly-moving hard intruder. It shuddered, but
it gave way as the big, dark pole slid into her mouth.
“You both will suffer,” he assured Snare as inch after inch of
dark, hard meat inched its way into her gaping mouth. She tried to relax
the back of her throat, allowing passage for the thick, hot invader. The
ring gag was huge, and her gaping maul was huge, and now she understood why.
“I am trying to advance science, for the good of all mankind. I am trying
to advance work that will overcome disease. I am working on outdoing death.
When you … when women like you … work against me, you champion
the cause of suffering. This is why you must … you will … experience
suffering.”
As two hands took control of the back of her head, and pulled her in as the
cock snaked its way down, she remembered Cutlass and the Skeleton Crew.
This is what they did to
her.
She remembered, a year or so before, being the one who was tied and helpless.
It was a ball gag that held her drooling mouth open that time. She was lashed
to a post, her arms pinned behind her, and he legs were stretched out and
spread, tied to two saw horses. The ropes were so tight that she wondered
if she would ever get the feeling back. They had made it a point to hoist
her up on that post, high, and to leave her tanned breasts
exposed.
And she watched them use Cutlass.
The Skeleton Crew had been meticulous. They had gassed her and kept her trussed
up that way so that way so that she could see what they were doing to Cutlass.
In her fishnets and boots, with her body suit pulled down to expose her breasts,
Cutlass – Tina – was on her knees. Her wrists were bound, her ankles
were bound, and her mouth had become a receptacle for villain jism.
They took turns, waiting patiently in line, and one-by-one, fifteen men filled
her mouth. Each one was still meticulous. He would enter her mouth slowly,
probing with his unsheathed tool. Each would wait his turn until his brother
skeleton had emptied his white spume on her up-turned face.
Cutlass had played her role taking each one under threat of Snare being tortured
and killed if there was no cooperation. Moving her head, her bound hands
being of no help, she slid her mouth up and down each shaft until he delivered
his cum on her face or in her hair.
Now, Snare was the one gagging on the cock, and Night Star was unable to
even watch, must less do anything. She felt her eyes widen as he slid his
in deep, pulled back, then pumped some more, gliding in and out of her
ring-gagged mouth. She could feel the veins and ridges pass over her lips
and tongue. Finally, he fed the whole length and girth into her. This was
possibly the biggest cock she’d ever had in her mouth, in her body at
all for that matter, and her eyes watered as she tried to master
it.
There was the guttural sound of a woman gagging.
His hips moved again, fucking her mouth, giving her those brief moments to
gasp. Her face was red.
He spoke in a mildly scolding paternal voice, his British accent making it
all the more so.
“I’m going to leave you to contemplate how you got here. Really
think about the error if your ways, little whore.”
She felt him tense, and then she felt him come in her mouth.
It was powerful and pungent.
Snare gagged and gargled as a torrent of salty white cum issued directly
to the back of her throat. Her impulses betrayed her, trying to breathe and
swallow all at once; her whole body convulsed. In its slick, purple second
skin, and high-heeled boots it convulsed. Her tits shook and her muscular,
sleek, curvy legs tremored.
When the man was done coming in Snare’s mouth, he slowly withdrew and
reasserted his grip on the back of her head. One step back, and he gave her
a shove, discarding her on the floor. Snare lay on her side, her mouth leaking
saliva and cum. She gulped air, her eyes closed.
As if obeying her captor, she did find her mind rolling back through the
events that ended up with her bound and laden with cum.
They were ready for
us.
His preparation had shown in every part of how he reacted when Snare and
Dark Moon swooped in on them. He pulled his guns, as did the woman in the
skin stocking.
They maneuvered as if they had already worked out who would do what. They
moved in the semi-darkness of the lab drawing in the heroines.
Snare darted this way and that, pulling her fighting sticks. She used her
superhuman speed just enough to keep an eye on him, but move closer and closer
still without him being able to track her. She did a roll and as she closed
on him, moving left, she realized that he saw her. He only glanced at her,
but didn’t fire. There a tiny, glimmering second of confusion in her
mind. That moment of confusion was
all that Sister Dragon needed.
Sister Dragon had been concealed and waiting.
Coming prepared for these two had meant inviting a friend. The guns, she
would discover, were meant for Night Star, while Sister Dragon was meant
for her. Sister Dragon was there for Snare.
Sinewy and cold-eyed, the Asian woman was all over Snare in a blur of hands
and feet. The blond in purple got in a few solid blows, sending the assassin
reeling, but they would be few and far between. The dragon woman drove her
knee into Snare’s gut, doubling her over. The dragon woman struck into
the most subtle nerve points on Snare’s lush body, making the limbs
of the woman in purple go numb.
Snare found herself on one knee, hunched over, panting and wincing in pain
as the woman paced around her.
It was after that that Sister Dragon got behind Snare and gave her some
jewelry.
Snare had been strangled from behind before, but never with a strand of beads
that felt like steel.
When she fought with Snakehead in a posh hotel room months before, he had
torn a lamp cord out of the wall, and used it to strangle her into submission.
In the destroyed interior of the hotel room, with broken furniture and smashed
plaster all around, the big Asian mercenary straddled her back and got the
rubber-coated cord around her throat. He pulled and twisted, rearing back
and laughing as the superwoman strangled in his grip.
Not long before that, one of the members of the League of the Black Cat had
used Thunder Storm’s tattered costume to choke her from behind. Captured
and stripped to only her yellow boots and mask, Thunder Storm watched from
the cross on which they had hung her as the Black Cat woman twisted and pulled
the costume around Snare’s throat.
Sister Dragon used beads.
Cold, smooth, and round, they were strung together in a rope that might as
well have been metal baling wire. When it wrapped around Snare’s throat
and synched tightly it was clear that she was going nowhere. It was clear
that this woman meant to leave her lifeless on the floor.
The powerful hands of the fighter behind her twisted and turned as Snare
was pulled from her balance and yanked sideways. Her mouth opened in a silence
scream, and her hands came up to grasp at the garrote. Purple-gloved hands
reached feebly at the string of beads.
Her tongue probed and crept at the edge of her lower lip.
“Little blond whore,” Sister Dragon hissed.
Sister Dragon pulled Snare close to her, on the floor, the two women spooning
in a vicious embrace. She had
come out of the shadows, wrapped her strong string of beads around the
blonde’s throat, pulled her down to the floor beside her, and now she
was killing Snare with them. With one leg wrapped around Snare’s waist
and drawn up between her thighs, she pressed her face into the heroine’s
hair and took a deep inhalation.
“You’re so beautiful, Snare. You’ve got
a gorgeous rack, you’re
just a beautiful little busty imp aren’t you? What’s wrong? Can’t
breathe?”
She arched her back, pushing her hips forward, and pulling her shoulders
back, keeping Snare in a contorted pose, and desperately gasping. She moved
her face away from the woman’s fragrant hair and smiled at the
man.
“I’ll help her capture Night Star. You finish off this one. Remember,
useful equals alive,” he said.
“Yessir.”
The strange reports of their guns erupted in the next room for one frantic
moment, then there was silence. This was as Sister Dragon was pressing her
weight in just the right way to roll Snare on to her belly. The split second
in which the strangling blond could have pushed off and fought came and went
too suddenly to make a difference.
Sister pressed her hips forward, digging her crotch up against Snare’s
round ass.
“It’s at times like this that I wish I had a
cock.”
She pulled even tighter, sending her hips harder against the heroine in
purple.
“I had Alley Kat like this once. It was … what? The second time
that we fought and I captured her. I used these very same beads. I wrapped
them around her throat while she was stalking her way through our facility.
She was quiet and stealthy, but I caught her.”
She emphasized the point by pulling harder and deeper.
“Do you know her?”
She felt the woman in purple fading below her. She paced through her words,
painting a picture of the heroine called Alley Kay, a genetically enhanced
superwoman with feline powers. She wore a black body stocking, as sheer and
tight as Snare’s, with white gloves and boots. There was a detail in
that costume that she always loved; the area covering her cleavage was exposed
in an oval that rested on the tanned expanse of her bust.
“She’s blond also. She also thought she was going to be able to
elude … aw, are you leaving me?”
She finally noticed that the fight was going out of Snare’s perfect
little body. The fingers in the slick, black gloves loosened and uncurled.
Muscles went slack, and the fit, toned woman in purple ceased her struggle.
Sister Dragon listened to herself pant in the heroine’s hair for a moment,
then slowly undid the rope of beads, slowly undid herself from the blond.
She relished the moment of standing over the blond, who lay face-down on,
her face hidden below one bent arm, the other lost in the tangled tide of
her hair. The victor planted the ball of her right foot on the firm, tight
buttocks of the superheroine and pressed. She rolled her foot around on the
unconscious woman’s ass.
“I’ll punish you n….”
She had to step back and readjust her footing as Snare flipped, pushed off
the floor, and came to a crouch. Her eyes met the Dragon woman’s, and
there was nothing. The villainess showed no shock. She showed now anger.
She simply smiled at Snare, who was far from unconscious.
Snare had tried to trick Sister Dragon. She had attempted to dupe the woman
in the skin-tight dragon body suit. She had failed.
Coolly, confidently Sister Dragon made an arc with her right hand, an arc
across the heroine’s face, and released a wave of white powder. There
was a toxin that felt like a galaxy of tiny vampires swimming through
Snare’s veins. Her super physiology couldn’t work fast enough to
overcome the poisonous dust that flooded from her lungs to her blood to every
part of her body.
She emitted a gagging, choking rasp and clawed at her throat. The Olympic
muscle in her strong legs turned to rubber, and her body rebelled, sending
her slumping to the floor. Now she was curled on her side, weakness flooding
her until she passed out. There was a feeble grasping of her left hand, as
if she could grab a ring that would pull her to consciousness. The fingers
went limp.
“You can’t fake that, bitch,” laughed Sister Dragon.
She heard the last gasp escape, and she knelt to her work. She rolled the
blond over, smiling at the spread of her breasts and the gentle rock of her
curvy body. She spread the unconscious woman’s thighs.
She wasn’t sure what the captive’s costume was made of, but the
Dragon assassin was able to pinch and tear the slick, purple material, smiling
as she listened to the ripping of the fabric. The pink blossom of Snare’s
sex greeted her as the purple costume gave way. She ripped it a little bit
more, reaching the cleft of her ass.
“What a nice little pussy you have. That looks like a tight, sweet little
box. And what a perfect ass. You know, I’m going to have such fun with
you.”
She spat on the captive’s asshole and watched as it dribbled down the
meaty wet folds of her vagina.
Snare would never feel the meticulous work of other woman’s small hands
as she held
the
ass cheeks open and began feeding the dark, round beads into the tight little
starburst of her asshole.
One.
Two.
Three.
The beads that had served as a weapon were now disappearing up into the beaten
woman’s body.
Four.
Five.
Six.
She went thoughtfully, bringing each little ball up against the woman’s
asshole, then using her thumb to press it home, slipping it into her. Soon,
all but the last few were inside Snare. She let the firm skin of the blond
heroine’s butt go and watched the very end of the trail of beads dangle
out. Just the ring at the very end hung out.
The drugged heroine would never feel her legs being forced back together,
hard, and her ankles crossed. Sister Dragon’s hands wandered and lingered
here and there as she walked them up Snare’s body and took hold of the
utility belt. She worked deftly, moving the woman this way and that as he
undid the belt and claimed it as her own.
“You have to love a heroine who comes with her own
rope.”
This was when she removed Snare’s signature weapon and pulled the super
victim’s arms tightly together at the elbow. She bound Snare with her
own rope.
This was when she bound her crossed ankles.
This was when she locked the captive’s mouth open with a ring
gag.
This was how she left Snare, waiting for her boss to come back to rape her
mouth.
And now she lay on her side, waiting.
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