by Mr. K
I fucked Dark Moon one more time for good measure, then tossed her over the
side.
It's funny, of all the heroines I had that night, that one fuck was probably
the best. Her cunt was already well-fucked, dripping, and juicy, so I was
able to slip right back into a slick of my own semen, and give her good plowing.
That was all from the second time I did her. The first time had been up the
ass, so I'm not really counting that. All things considered, it was the second
juicy, sweet fuck with my little Latina cutie.
So, I carried her off, and tossed her into the ocean.
It just seemed like the best way to end our brief relationship.
Like I said, after I was done, I pulled out, took hold of her arms, and lifted
her up off the wet stone of the old Spanish fort. I lifted her up high, like
a child, and dangled her there for a moment. Just the feel of her costume,
and the way it looked on her body, made me want to start the night all over
again. The feel of her body in that costume made me want to take my ancient
herb again, and feel the power flow through me again, in preparation for
working my magic on her.
The feel of her body made me want to enjoy that rush of crushing her against
my chest like I had earlier that evening, and to revisit the wonders of slinging
her body around like a toy. I would get to lift her up by her breasts, crush
them, squeeze them together, and shake her in midair.
That feeling of smooth, slick nylon on her muscular curves made it all come
back to me, and I smiled. I love women. I especially love superheroines.
It made me want to beat her again. We could skip the parts of the fight when
she had the upper hand, and knocked me around like a
pinball. We'd cut straight to
the good part. I'd relive striking her in the face with a right cross, and
sending her into the stone wall. Then a left , then a right, then a left.
I'd relive digging an upper cut up into her midsection, lifting a knee up
into her face, then slamming both fists down on the lean, definition of her
back. I would be able to hear that painful gasp as she fell. I'd be able
to hear her hit the floor again.
Then, there would be that joy in the strangling. The joy I felt when I got
down on her prone body, mounted her, and wrapped my big hands around that
tender throat of hers. The muscles would move in my arms again, the herb
pumping through my veins, and I would watch as her eyes grew drowsy and lost.
"I did this to White Owl the other day. Only I fucked her at the same time.
It was a joy!" I told her.
I would enjoy trying to crush her throat with my hands again.
I'd relive grabbing her by that long, thick hair and slamming her head against
the floor over and over until she was almost out. I loved that.
I would strip naked again, towering over her beaten form with a rock-hard
cock sprouting over her face. I would masturbate, and drop pearls on her
lips again. I would smear it over her face and breasts again.
I would enjoy tearing a tapestry from the wall again, twisting it into a
cord, and strangling her with it, then dragging her down the hall with it
as a leash around her neck. I
would be able to hear her choking again. I would be able to continue twisting
it around her throat, as I wrapped it around her wrists again, and bound
them tightly across her big, round breasts.
I would kick her while she was down again.
I would drag her to see what I had done to Gold, holding her up by her hair
so that she could see the big-busted blond, unconscious and well-fucked,
bound to a stone pillar with a web of strong, shiny chains, her head sagging
down, blond hair masking her face. She was sitting on the floor, her back
up against the stone, her big , long legs spread, and her arms hanging
limply.
Even in the half-light of that dungeon, you could see the smears and droplets
of my cum on the golden sheen of her body and hair. Her nipples were still
hard, and I knew that her pussy was nice and swollen.
"I defeated her also," I told Dark Moon. "We battled, I won. The fighting
stopped, and I fucked her. You see, that's what I do. I enjoy women. I enjoy
the battle, then I enjoy the fucking. I chained her down here. Hear the waves?
When the tide comes in, this chamber will flood as it has for the past century,
and she will drown."
I sighed.
"I enjoyed her, but she is not one of the two. I always collect my women
in twos, and she, like you, is not part of a matching pair. For centuries
I've done it this way. It has to be two sisters, a daughter and mother, or,
maybe, lovers. Gold came here as only one. She was enjoyable, but she must
die. The same goes for you, and the other ones that I found on their
own."
I dragged Dark Moon down to
the next dungeon chamber.
"Take a look," I said, holding the beaten Latin beauty up by her hair. "Take
a look at Night Star. See what I did to her?"
Carrying Dark Moon over my shoulder made me remember what a joy I was to
show my work to the battered heroine. There was Night Star in her costume,
suspended on a rack. I must say, I loved that costume. It was a black catsuit,
footed and gloved. A mask was across those blue eyes. And the skin suit,
it was slightly glowing with a dusting...a minor dusting...of "stardust."
Just a touch.
Her long, muscular legs were pinned together, showing all of that lean, beautiful
definition, and her arms where outstretched as if she was on a cross. I'd
fixed her up there with chains and cuffs that pinned her ankles, wrists,
waist, neck, and thighs to the rack.
She was upside down.
All of that thick red hair poured down in waves,. She wasn't actually
unconscious. She was still in the stunned state that my body's poison causes
in women. She had no idea where she was, and she moaned softly in the
darkness.
"I loved fucking this one in the mouth. I tit fucked her also. Just squeezed those big, firm tits together on my cock...whoa! That was fun. See the cum on stains on her costume? You know, I loved the feeling of my cock on that body stocking. It felt like spandex, I guess. I dunno, I just enjoyed having her. I just wanted you to see her. Now, I'll seal the chamber, and she will suffocate. Just like Gold, she was a fighter, and just like Gold, she lost. Like I said, I'll seal this chamber, and the air will run out in no time. Night Star dies tonight."
My beaten, bound Dark Moon could only watch as I did just
that. I sealed Night Star into
the chamber.
"She was another one that came her alone. I can capture women and use them
alone, but I must have a pair to do my work, my art. The mother and the daughter.
Sisters. Lovers. I need women in pairs."
Next, I showed her what I'd done to Golden Bat
. I had to hold her up so that
she could see down the dark, narrow mouth of the well. Down in the shadows,
curled up like a baby, was Golden Bat. She was in darkness, but you could
still make out that gorgeous, lush Britney-Spears-looking body in golden
spandex. She slept soundly as drop by drop, bit by bit, swamp slime fell
from the funnel overhead, and dropped down to slowly fill the well. It was
already splattered on the shiny material of her costume, and was now starting
to mat her hair and cover her face. She would smother long before the well
was filled to the top with slime.
"Take a look at her dying. Nice huh?"
I recounted for Dark Moon how I beat the Bat. I recounted, whispering in
Dark Moon's ear, how I caught the blond with and upper cut. I explained how
I her head snapped back and how she fell. I explained how I grabbed her throat,
strangled her, and held her
under water until the fight was gone from her.
I recounted how I used her mouth and her ass once she was a
captive.
I recounted how I dropped her down that well.
I recounted how I used my herb to make sure she would not awaken as the slime
pit filled.
Carrying Dark Moon over my shoulder made me remember taking her to see the
last captured heroine. The last of my "singles," I mean. Carrying her made
me want to remember it. I wanted
to relive asking her "You know Thunder Storm don't you?" That gave me a tingle.
It was so much fun deflecting Thunder Storm's electrical blast back at her,
and then rubbing my toxin into her skin that I wanted to relieve it all over
again.
"Look at what I did her," I said to Dark Moon. I remembered how I yanked
on the tapestry that I'd wrapped around Dark Moon's wrists and throat to
get her attention. I wanted to her see how I had trusted up Thunder Storm.
She was flat on a stone slab, spread eagle and chained. I'd placed a ring
of candles around the prone woman, and, let me say, it made a beautiful
sight.
Coils of rope held her arms in place, her legs in place, her neck in
place.
Thunder Storm wore a skin-tight body glove of purple. It was cut low, down
to her crotch, with a jagged lightning bolt flash, which revealed her deep,
life-long tan. She wore yellow, heelless boots which smoothly conformed to
her long legs. She wore long gloves over her long-fingered elegant hands.
Her thick, black hair had a sheen to it that picked up the candlelight.
"I kicked her like a dog," I told Dark Moon.
"And now..." I pointed up. You would know what you were seeing, exactly,
if you didn't know where to look, but there it all was. A gigantic millstone
was being lowered from the ceiling, inch by inch. One inch. Another inch.
Another inch. It would take hours, but the huge, heavy stone, big enough
to cover a bound woman's body, and heavy enough to crush her to pulp, would
eventually press down onto Thunder Storm, and kill her.
"She has a big, dark pussy. She has huge, thick pussy lips. Very nice. I
fucked her raw. It was ass,
then pussy, then ass, then pussy, then ass. I was a joy. Now she
dies."
Carrying Dark Moon over my shoulder made me want to relive everything
again.
Carrying Dark Moon over my shoulder made me want to stuff my cock and balls
in her mouth again, gagging her.
It made me want to feel the rush of that moment, during our fight, when I
rubbed my skin to hers, and I knew that the toxins that flow in me had sunk
into her flesh.
The feel of the costume on that curvy body...it made me want to touch her
skin and mesmerize her again.
I stroked her legs and ass...that firm round ass...as I carried her on my
shoulder, and remembered what a thrill it was, to finally defeat her. Yes,
she finally tore free of the tapestry wrapping, and after a brief fight,
I was able to touch her and poison her, to watch her stagger around in the
dark hallway in which we'd been fighting.
The toxin transferred into her. A few seconds later, her mind was muddled
and lost in a fog. She was stunned. Helpless.
Her hands were up to her face, and she was sweating, panting, and stumbling
into walls. She was stunned, confused, and unable to stop me from taking
her.
I touched her, the fight stopped, and I fucked her.
I took her in the ass. first. It hurt her with my cock, tearing through the
fabric and suddenly opening her asshole wide. That costume looked like nylon
pantyhose material, could stop bullets, but couldn't fend off my cock. In
a second I was up to the base of my cock in her ass, and the dark beauty
was squirming, and shuddering on the end of my prick. She reared back, flinging
her hair in wild arc, and screaming in that dank hallway.
I held her hips and pushed, slowly, thrusting hard into her. The muscles
in those strong dancer's legs tensed, and she clawed helplessly at the air.
Warm ripples of pleasure ran down my back. I loved this. I had loved this
for centuries.
When she flung her head back again, I grabbed a fistful of thick, black hair
and pulled. I used it as a reign as I rode Dark Moon's ass.
"I live for this, Dark Moon. I did this to women on this island before the
Spaniard's came. I would fuck this one, or that one, kill this one, kill
that one, but I would collect the pairs. Mother and daughter. Sisters. Whatever
I could find, I would collect them, drain them, and turn them to statues
of bone, Beautiful, smooth, polished bone. You must have hear the stories
when you were just a little
chica."
I pushed harder, driving my hips to slapslapslap that juicy, round ass. When
I was ready to hear a new round of screams, I pulled out, and flung her on
her back. Now, that was a sight to see. Her jet-black hair wrapped across
her face as she tumbled to the side, her arms fell away to exhibit two firm,
high, round breasts in nylon. And that perfect hourglass figure...
The woman was still stunned, and could only mutter senselessly as I mounted
her, and sank myself into her. Her fingers clawed at my back, and those long
legs stiffened and trembled.
"You are good," I whispered in her ear. "You all were good. I loved doing
this to Gold, Thunder Storm, Golden Bat, and Night Star. You know, once Gold
was stunned, that golden sheath that covers her was nothing but golden skin.
Golden paint. I finger fucked her up the ass until she came for me. She came
hard, and it was something beautiful. And, you know, when I got my cock in
her, she screamed like a siren.
And Night Star was a joy. I fucked her mouth, and her tits, and came all
over her. She's a red head, and I love big-titted red heads.
Thunder Storm, I put on her side on that slab, and fucked her that way.
And now, there's you, Dark Moon."
I grabbed her right ankle, squeezing that leather boot, and thrust her leg
up in the air. I used my left hand to do the same to the other leg, and ended
up holding both legs up, pinned together above her. I felt must have been
hitting her g-spot, because the black-nylon whore let out a sweet little
yelp.
I fucked Dark Moon, then I carried her off, up to the roof.
The feel of the costume on that curvy body...it was something special. It
made me want to relive everything--showing her the other heroines, beating
her, fucking her, the whole thing.
Dark Moon's costume, the black nylon catsuit that covered her from neck to
feet, was wet from the rain and the fuckings I'd given her. It now it bore
two small gaps, just over her swollen, dripping cunt, and one over her ass.
That was where my cock had torn through it like tissue paper.
She wore glossy, "liquid leather" boots and gloves. They conformed to her
sinewy limbs as if they had been painted on.
Like I said, (I know, I repeat myself, but I do love to recount.) I fucked
her once more for good measure, grabbed her arms, yanked her up on to my
shoulder, like a sack of dirty laundry, and turned to the edge of the parapet.
There was a blur of thick, black Latina hair as I tossed her over the side,
into the darkness.
I waited. There was a splash.
Next, I turned to the two women who waited down stairs. They were my real
reason for being here. They were my set of women.
Naked, my rock-hard cock leading the way, I walked back down the winding
stairwell. The throbbing was stronger now, the head glowing in the darkness
of the damp stairwell. It was dragging me along, guiding me to the two waiting
supercunts.
As I came down the stairs and around the corner, I was given the perfect
gift. The room still showed signs of a fight, chairs turned over, art knocked
from the walls, and pottery broken. The lush opulent room also showed signs
of who won.
There was a creamy-skinned woman on her back in front of the fireplace. She
had the strong, full, muscular curves of a gymnast--full, thick thighs and
strong curved feminine muscle. She had large breasts. She had large natural
breasts with big pink nipples, which were hard right now.
Her hair was a lot like Dark Moon's, long, thick and dark. But, instead of
being chocolate against the caramel of Latina skin, it was a shocking charcoal
against the paleness of Serbian snow.
She wore only hip-high white, skin-tight, high-heeled boots, and a white
mask over perfect Slavic features, as I'd discarded her costume body
suit.
This was Cold Front, the daughter.
An arm's length away from her, was a slender woman who wore only black Victorian
boots, and a blue mask. She had the same jet-black hair as the other woman,
only hers was short and wild-spiky. Her breasts were high and perk, capped
with big, hard, red nipples.
This was Bora, the mother.
These would be my newest two.
Both were mistresses of weather magic, able to control icy winds that could
freeze their foes. Both could fly. They had put up quite a fight earlier
that evening, nearly trapping me in a web of ice and frost. They raised their
hands, and filled the room with a howling, icy wind. I felt the coils of
cold wrap around me, and I was trapped. There I was, pinned to a wall in
an old Spanish fort in sultry Puerto Rico by a cocoon of ice.
"Clever, ladies," I chuckled. "You've got me."
The mother and daughter then watched, agape, as I simply broke free from
the thick, enchanted ice and lunged toward them. The herb made me so strong,
so full of masculine power, that the tricks of some weather witches were
of no consequence.
Naked, flowing with power, loving my life right then and there, I struck
a blow to Bora's jaw, sending her across the room. I delivered a perfect
front kick into the midsection of her daughter sending her down. Both were
stunned, and offered no resistance, as I grabbed, first Cold Front, and then
Bora, by the throat. I lifted them, squeezing their windpipes, and letting
my sex venom flow through their skin. I lifted them, letting them dangle
above the stone floor.
I took a moment, and just enjoyed the sight of the two heroines strangling
in my fists. My muscles worked, and the weather witches made pathetic little
chirping noises. Their perfect high-cheek-boned faces, with their sensuously
curved lips turned red with the struggle for air.
Again, the sight of the costumes, and those heroine bodies inspired me. Cold
Front, with her hourglass body, wore a glossy, second-skin, white bodysuit
that matched the white hip boots. It was cut high on her lush thighs, and
shimmered like spandex.
A neon blue sash cut across her midsection.
She had large, large breasts that stretched her costume and gave her body
a perfect hourglass figure. She had a perfect, little, athletic shelf of
an ass, also.
Bora wore a shocking blue cat suit with a pure white sash. And she had those
knee-high, high-heeled, spiky Victorian boots. She was also an hourglass,
just longer, and leaner with these high, pert breasts and sinewy muscles.
Her eyes were done up in dark blue eye shadow, like Cold Front's, and her
lips were frosted in the same color.
Those blue-shaded eyes were wide with the pain of suffocation, but their
attempts to break my grasp were fruitless. Once again, I'd collected two
beautiful women. Two more.
I would have choked them to unconsciousness, but soon their struggle stopped
as the toxin flowed into them. They became docile, and I set them back down.
My toxin had defeated the weather witches.
This was before I defeated Dark Moon on the roof. This was before I fucked
Dark Moon, and tossed her from the roof.
"Now, listen you two," I said to the mother and daughter once they were under
control. They were sleepy eyed and seemed to sway. Their arms hung at their
side, and their moist lips were pursed and hung open. "Get those costumes
off, and get ready to be fucked. I'm going to go take care of Dark Moon,
then I'll be back. Don't masturbate. I want you near exploding when I get
back."
That was when I went up to take care of Dark Moon.
So, here I was, back with the mother and daughter after having defeated Dark
Moon, fucked her over and over, and tossed her off to drown. Cold Front was
on her back, knees up, legs spread, and nipples hard. She had a big, unshaven
pussy, with wet, ripe lips that were swollen and open. She was actually dripping,
and her long-nailed fingers slowly searched around her bare thighs.
The mother was just the same, her legs spread wide, juice pouring out and
making a puddle below her on the carpet. Her fingers were in her hair, and
she was moaning.
"Hello, ladies. I've finished off your friends. Now I'm going to fuck you.
You'll survive, but you'll be ossified. You'll be turned into beautiful gleaming
statues of bone. Then I'll put you down in the basement of this
castle."
I approached the waiting Cold Front, who looked at my cock and whimpered.
"I've been doing it to women, pairs of women, on this island since before
the Spaniards came. The Indians told stories about me."
I knelt between her strong thighs, stroking my cock. I was huge, and pulsing,
and the dew was actually dripping, and running over her pussy
lips.
"They feared the 'man who took the herb' because he could 'turn the women to bone.' And carry them off."
I spread her legs wider, and slid my body against hers, just taking the time
to enjoy the feeling of my naked skin against hers. Smooth. Soft. I tingled
all over.
Then, I entering Cold Front's drooling cunt. The scream was perfect. Loud,
pained, passionate, heroine screams echoed through the old Spanish fort.
Both hands came up and clawed at my back. She was strong, and her finger
tips dug bloody grooves in my back. The slick boots were rubbing against
me now, smooth against my skin.
"Bora!" I yelled. "Look over here. Watch me fuck your daughter! I love her
body. Nice, firm curves."
Bora crawled on all fours, bringing her face down next to that of her daughter.
"Is it magnificent?" she whispered.
"Yes...mother...mmmmmmm..."
Those big breasts were mashed against my chest, and the weather witch seemed
to struggle for air. It was like she was screaming in rapture, crying, and
gasping all at once. Her eyes were wide, as her body seemed to leave without
her.
"Oh gah...gah... Oh, God!"
I hooked my fingers into her hair, and pulled as the orgasm went off in her
body. I pulled the heroine's hair as her thick Olympic legs trembled and
shook.
As the screaming died, she sank into a deep sort of semi-slumber. She was
still able to watch, though, as I crawled off of her, and guided her mother
to stretch herself, face-down on the
floor. I spread her legs, as
she turned her head to look at her defeated daughter, as I mounted the woman.
Heat and dew poured from between her thighs,
as I adjusted
them.
"You're ready to be fucked, aren't you?"
She couldn't use words.
"Mmmmmm hmmmmm."
Her screams were even louder than her daughter's.
Somewhere, during the trembling and screaming that came from Bora, there
was a sound behind me. It was a sound of labored breathing, and pain. It
was the sound of water dripping on cold stone.
I looked over my shoulder to see Dark Moon framed in the arched doorway.
She was leaning in against the stone, supporting herself. Her head was sagging,
and her soaking-wet hair was matted and hanging down in front of her face.
Those pussy lips still pouted through the opening I'd ripped in her
costume.
"Now, that's impressive," I laughed. "You aren't dead? You aren't in the ocean. You came back. Ok, we can deal with that."
I looked back at the mother and daughter.
"Go take care of her, you two."
I slid off, pulled out of Bora, sat back, and watched my puppets. Moving with grace, and
elegance, and power, the women stood, and walked to the beaten, weakened
Latina heroine. She struggled a bit, but the mother and sister, naked accept
for their boots and masks, seized her. Each grabbed an arm, Bora taking a
handful of the wet hair, and she could do nothing as they dragged her over
to the table.
Their firm tits swayed and bobbed a bit as they pulled her up on the table.
From the way her head swayed, and her legs buckled and wobbled and allowed
them to move her body however they wanted to, I could see that she wasn't
ready for a fight.
They stretched her out, spreading her legs, and pulling her arms up over
her head. As if a silent message had been passed between them, the mother
and daughter moved to smother Dark Moon. Bora held her legs, while the
large-breasted daughter mounted the beaten, brown woman. She pushed those
big tits together, and mashed them down on Dark Moon's face.
There was feeble spasm of resistance in those legs, which Bora pinned down,
as Dark Moon was smothered by Cold Front. I smiled as I watched those huge,
brown eyes roll up I her head. When she was flirting with a black out, they
yanked her off the table, pulling and grabbing her like a toy, and stood
her up.
Bora held her from behind, by the arms, and Cold Front grasped her face,
holding her head upright. They smiled, as they communed as mother as daughter.
The air was filled with the sound of a storm, and crackling ice, as a mini
winter surrounded them
When the snow subsided, and the winds died, Dark Moon was a
popsicle. To be exact, she was
a statue. The cold that penetrated her costume and skin would have killed
normal women, but this caramel superheroine was left locked in place. She
was covered in fine layer of dense frost. She was an ice
sculpture.
They stepped away from her.
There she stood. Ice sculpture. The black nylon skin of her costume was now
white. The tight, high-heeled boots were now a glistening stark white. Her
skin was now covered in a pale, icy stone-like pallor, and she stood
stock-still.
Her arms were at her sides, where the mother held them. Her knees bent slightly.
Her head tipped back a bit, and her face showed a delightful mixture of shock
and pain.
I'd compelled two heroines to use their powers against another heroine, who
was now a living statue.
"Nice work, ladies. Leave her here, and head down stairs. I'll be right
there."
The half-naked heroines, mother and daughter in only boots and masks, robotically
walked from the room, and started the long climb down the winding staircase
into the lower chamber.
I walked to my icy Puerto Rican heroine. I did a little walk-around, admiring
the beaten woman. The same big, round breasts and firm, tight ass I'd enjoyed
were all encased in frost.
"Their ice is magical. This sultry weather won't melt it, and neither will the heat from that hot, curvy body of yours. You'll be like this forever."
I looked her over again. I cupped the curve of her ass. I touched the large,
round breasts. I felt nothing but hard, cold ice.
"Bye, Dark Moon."
I blew her a kiss, and went to add Bora and Cold Front to my
collection.
Rakshasa and I have had a competition going for centuries. We want to see
who can transform more heroines. Not just women, but heroines. I mean, finding
and overcoming normal, mortal human women, and turning them into stone or
something is easy. But these heroine bitches, that's the challenge.
He had me watch one time while he transformed Graviton. He pretended to be
mortal, and let her fight him with her powers. She could compel gravity to
do her bidding, and she tossed him around with it, finally pinning him to
the wall. He smiled, and then showed her what true power was.
"Watch and learn."
A simple snap of the fingers. That was all it took. The tall, blond woman
in yellow and purple was frozen in place, her arms out-stretched, her body
turned to grey stone.
He turned her to flesh again. He turned her to stone again. He turned to
flesh again, and launched himself at the stunned blond. Before she knew what
was happening she was bent over and being fucked up the ass by my mentor,
Rakshasa. Before she could scream, he turned her to stone again.
He pulled his cock out of the stone hole, and smiled at the doggy-style
victim.
"And that's how it's done."
I saw him do the same thing to Thunder Storm. Through mind control, he had
her become a willing lover. She tore open the crotch of her own costume,
She sat on that massive cock, and turned to stone.
I was able to show him up by
turning Cutlass and her sister's Saber and Foil into statues. They were three
sisters, empowered by the talisman of ancient British witches. They had each
taken the name of a sword, and now The Sword Sisters battled evil magic users
and various and sundry villains. They were amusing.
Cutlass...her name was Tina...was a red head at that point. She was tall
and lush-bodied, very stylish. At that point, she wore a royal purple body
suit, glossy, skin-tight, and high-cut on the hips. Those perfect, strong,
shapely legs were swathed in a second-skin of fishnet stockings, and she
stood tall on purple, high-heeled Victorian ankle boots.
Saber...Trish...was blond, shorter and busty. She was a lot like Cold Front,
with a thick, athletic, curvy little body. She wore a two-piece, shiny silver
costume--a bikini bottom, and a sheer, shiny top. Her tight, chiseled abs
were, and she wore silver hip boots.
Foil's real name was Brooke. She was a powerful, lean brunette with penetrating
dark eyes, and a delicate, pert red mouth. Her breasts were slightly smaller
than her sisters, but still high and firm. Her hips, her waist--the whole
thing went together to create a perfect, long womanly figure. She wore a
maroon unitard, with a black belt cutting across her midsection. I must admit,
the opera-length gloves and black leather boots were the perfect
touch.
The Sword Sisters. They planned on defeating Rakshasa and me right there
in his hide-out.
"Here they come," he said that night. He pointed at the three women who rushed
to attack me in the plush manor. He smiled at me.
"Let me take care of this," I said.
He smiled, bowed, and stepped back.
As the women raised their hands to use their magic on me, I blew them a kiss.
I brought a hand up to my mouth, and blew across the palm. I sent a cloud
of my herbs into the air, and I waited. They had this intense look about
them, which faded into unfocused masks of distraction when the chemical began
to flow through them. They lowered their arms. They stood there confused,
swaying, and leaning on each other. For a moment there was something fierce
in their eyes, then it went out.
"Tina, get on your knees," I said. She fell heavily to her knees. "Now, the
two of you, get your pussies exposed and give her a little
bukkake shower."
They did as told. Trish took off her bikini bottoms, and Brooke simply tore
the crotch out of her body glove. Both sank their fingers into the already
sopping pussies and got to work. Saber bit her lower lip, and Foil let out
little whimpers and short gasps
as gloved heroine hands played in the drooling cunts.
It took hardly any time before the two women spurted on their sister's face
and hair.
And that was the way they were when I turned them into statues.
That was fun, but that was then. Today was all about Bora and Cold
Front.
I descended the stairs to the lower chamber. This is where I kept the women.
For centuries, first when that subterranean place was just a cave, and later
when it became the lower dungeon of the Spanish fort, I collected the statue
women down there.
I walked past the first two women I ever turned into statues of perfect,
white, polished bone. It was an Indian witch and her
daughter. I remembered how she
tried to block my magic, and how I brushed her aside.
I transformed them, and stored them down in that dark, dank
tunnel.
More Indian women. And more. And more.
There were the first two Spanish women that I took. Then more and more and
more.
I came to my Electron and Neutron. The bi sexual lovers in their red costumes
with atomic symbols were locked in a deep kiss, their bodies ossified.
I came to Maxim and Renegade, two more heroine captives. I'd had them feel
each other's tits, and finger each other
I, finally, deep in the darkness of that tunnel, found my new charges. My
new superwomen.
Bora and Cold Front were standing there, staring at each other in the darkness.
Now the rushing in my body was greater than ever. This is what I
loved.
"Ladies, kiss, and join your sisters."
Mother and daughter, heroine witches, dark-haired beauties, Bora and Cold
Front closed in on each other Sinewy white arms snaked out, and the women cupped
each other's faces like lovers. Moist lips trembled, and the mother and daughter
pressed into each other. Their mouths joined.
I passed my hand through the air, letting the scent from the herb which flowed
through my system fill the air.
And they were turned into statues.
"Good night, ladies."