Her thing was technology. She left the magic to her sister. She believed
in the ancient crafts that her sister had mastered. She had access to them,
if she wanted them, but she preferred to make science do as she pleased.
It was more of a thrill for her. There was an unspoken competition between
them as to which was the best at defeating evil.
The last time she slipped into one of the costumes she made for her sister,
and took off to assist Dark Moon, it was a lot like this night. It was an
autumn night with a full moon. Her sister had gone off after the villains
named Ropemaster and Shibari, and a few hours later, she had dressed in one
of the nylon, footed catsuits she had created for Dark Moon, and gone after
her sister. She wore a utility belt around her It didn't occur to her that
she was out and doing the superheroine thing until that motorcycle was on
the road, and the wind was blowing through her dark hair.
She called herself Nightfall when she went into this mode.
She had no doubt that her sister had fallen victim to the bondage masters.
When her tracing devices led her to her destination, she saw that she was
one-hundred-percent right.
Her sister was in the center of Shibari's dojo. A circular, grey stone room
with a bare stone platform in the middle of it, the room was like the man
himself, dedicated to a single discipline: stern Japanese bondage. Her sister
was on that platform.
Still in her liquid leather boots, mask and body stocking, Dark Moon had
had something new had been added to her costume. She wore a crotchrope now.
Tight layer upon layer of rope squeezed roughly around her waist, and pulled
hard up into her mount. The master of Japanese roping had worked it just
right so that, even through the nylon skinsuit, the rope was nestled between
the thick lips of her pie. The rope held her sister's pussy open.
Her breasts, in their black nylon, were squeezed out in tight peaks. Drawn
across her ribs and around her big, round breasts, a tight, crisscross of
shinju breast bondage had been expertly
done up around her tits.
Her leather-gloved hands were wrapped at the wrists, her arms up above her
head and lashed to an overhead beam. Her leather-booted ankles were bound
together in lengths and layers that pinned the shapely legs together.
Her glossy red lips were wrapped around a twisted length of cord that wove
its way back into the other network of ropes that held her.
She was on her knees on that slab.
Shibari was using her as a teaching tool, as he shared ideas with Ropemaster.
Dark Moon's eyes were placid, and seemed to stare at a far off distant place
as the Asian bondage master explained to his Western comrade how he was able
to stimulate her erogenous zones, heighten her awareness, and humiliate
her.
That was a night on which Nightfall could say that her M.O. was just what
was needed.
She did it again when Roadmaster defeated Dark Moon. She was in chains when
Nightfall came crashing through the door. Dark Moon's wrists were pinned
together with heavy, crude shackles, and pulled up tightly against her breasts.
Lengths of chain were wrapped around and around her torso, holding her sculpted
arms in place against her body. He used chains to bind Dark Moon's legs also,
squeezing the shapely legs together with coils of shining silver links that
almost mummified her from her thighs to the leather of her ankles. Another
woman's panties had been shoved in her mouth as a gag, and her nylons were
being used to hold them in place.
She was stretched on a metal table, unmoving. Nightfall saw the collar that
was affixed around her sister's neck, and she knew that this was what had
disrupted her powers enough to make her helpless. It was some sort of nerve
disruptor. Technology had defeated her sister's magic.
On another day, she, Nightfall, was the one who needed to be rescued when
both she and Alley Kat were captured and used for experiments by the Erotech
company. Drugs clouded a large portion of what she could remember, but she
did recall how they were bound together in a lesbian art piece, their faces
pushed into each other crotches and bound
there. She remembered having
to watch as they connected Alley to a machine that fucked her up the ass
and pussy. And she remembered being on all fours, and being fucked from behind
by a lust-crazed Erotech scientist when her sister crashed in to save to
day...and smirk about it a bit.
As she silently climbed Piston's walls, she couldn't help but wonder if this
would end up as a mark in her column, or Dark Moon's.
The sculpture moaned. It slowly rotated on the chain that suspended it from
the ceiling, and it moaned with a chorus of defeated voices. CutLass, Tina,
could not help but release a low, shuddering moan as the vibrations in her
ass and pussy grew stronger. With her legs pinned together, and blood rushing
to her head as it was, she could no longer absorb the sensuous torture. She
tried to twist her body, to maybe dislodge one of the devices, but with the
way her hair was bound, and the way her lean, busty frame was already arced,
she could do nothing.
Dark Moon's moan was pain. The bow formed by her body, with her wrists bound
to her ankles, was becoming too much for her muscles to stand. She tried
to regulate her breathing, drawing slow breathes through the gag, but the
pain continued to rise. She tried to draw her mind away from the crescendo
of agony building in her body. Her curvy frame could take a tremendous amount
of suffering , but the night was adding up.
With her body contorted between the two women, Scorpio was the only voice
that could not add to the chorus. She had separated her mind from her body.
She was no longer aware of the extreme angles of her legs, the inversion
of her head, and the metal frame that held her mouth open,
The sculpture was still conscious, and could hear the laughter, and heavy
breathing of the partiers. The debauchery had gone on for hours, and now
the guests of their captor seemed to be winding down. Some had fallen asleep,
but most were still wide awake, but groggy, and enjoying the bondage of the
captive women with less vigor.
All but Gold, that is.
She had not been added to the sculpture.
She had been added to Piston.
Gold was on her side. Piston was behind her, curled lovingly around her,
spooning with the long-legged blond. His cock was buried deep up sopping
sex, and he held her big breasts in his palms. He breathed in her
hair.
"No more fighting with you, golden lady. No more heroine-villain shit. We're
lovers now."
Her voice was weak. She had been fucked, and tortured, and fucked again.
She had been frozen and beaten. She had been fucked by a woman with a strap-on.
She had been tortured with his sound weapons. She was his.
There was an earpiece in her left ear, and a tone ringing in her head that told her that this was the zenith of her existence. She was being fucked by Piston, and she had no other desire. She was his!
"No...more...fighting," he whispered in her right ear.
She felt his thrust in the tender chamber of her cunt, and she exalted in
it. The massive cock was driving in her like...like a slow, powerful
Piston.
"Mmmmmuuuuu..."
She was docile, and she moaned as his massive girth plowed her. She was yielding,
and he was relentless. She was Tracey, now.
"I just love fucking you, Gold."
He squeezed her breasts, up and together, and thrust
again. She tilted her head back,
and closed her eyes. He started a beat, squeezing her tits, driving his cock
with a smooth rhythm. She responded in a slow, rocking rhythm, moving her
captive body with his. At certain
points, at certain moments in the rhythm, she pressed her ass back against
him, delivering him deeper to her sex.
The tiny earphone that he had affixed to the blond's left ear continued to
pour one of his tones into her. It found purchase, somewhere in the back
of her brain. She delighted in being taken by Piston.
"Just love to fuck you, Gold."
"Uhhhhhhh...Ohhhhh..."
"Just love to fuck...fuck you."
"Nnnnnnn...ohhhh.... God. MMMMMM."
"I'm your lover now, baby."
The heroine mouthed the words "My lover now."
He slowly pulled out, rolled her on her back, and forced her legs apart.
Instead of going between the big athletic thighs, though, he climbed her
long body, took a moment to bite her breasts with all he was worth, and then
reached her face and pried her mouth open with his strong musician's
fingers.
Nightfall crouched at the skylight that overlooked Piston's bedroom. Dark
against the night sky, her hair whipping back and forth in the night air,
Dark Moon's little sister watched as the long-haired villain mounted Gold's
face, and stuffed his huge, thick cock into her wet and waiting mouth. The
magical heroine let him, her long, voluptuous body accepting his tool between
one set of magical lips versus the other.
Nightfall watched as his hips began to buck, and he fucked Gold in the mouth.
He fucked her with gusto and anger. He fucked Gold's mouth.
"You're my bitch, now. 'Member the
first time I fucked you up the ass? Mmmmm. Remember how I bent you over that
car's hood, and my girls held your arms and legs and I just dove on it? Remember
that?"
Gold made little chirping noises, little, muffled captured noises, her lungs
working to get the slightest sliver of air. The tone in her ear kept her
docile and clouded. It kept her gentle and willing as he fucked her
mouth.
"Remember the first time I fucked your face like this? Remember, Gold? That
was...that was back when you tried to break up my little operation in Cirrus
City, MMMMM that feels good. Remember how messed up my boys, ruined everything
I'd put together? I gotcha', though. I gotcha' good. You though you were
gonna' rescue that little bitch I captured, but she's the one you gassed
you."
He laughed and plunged his cock even harder into her mouth.
"She sprayed you right in the face, and BAM! Down you went. That was great; I watched you fall all up against the wall, fanning the air, coughing, trying to clear your head. Then you went DOWN!"
He became more and more excited as he thought about how he'd defeated the
tall blond years before.
"Dragged you around while you were out, tied you up in that chair, electrocuted
you. Loved hearing you scream when I juiced you with that portable generator.
Two electrodes on your tits, and one on your
clit. And then I'd hit the juice....
ZZZZZZZZZ. And, after all that was done,
I...shoved...my...cock...in...your...mouth!"
There was a tremor in the rocker. He reared his head back, and gave the grimace
of a man who was at his climax. His howl resounded, and cum overflowed the
heroine's full, pursed mouth. He kept pumping, and howling , as a gusher
of spume poured over her chin, and across her high cheek bones.
"I did that to you then, too."
With a glistening trail of cum stringing from his hard-on and dribbling over
the shimmering golden skin of her costume, he slowly rose from her face,
and stood up from the bed. He smiled and panted.
The pain in his leg had dwindled down to nothing, and he was simply bathing
in the joy of having Gold.
"I love your fuck holes, you sweet, golden bitch. Gonna'..." He was panting and sweaty. "Gonna' take a break, and check on the guests. Whew!"
He seemed to stumbled around a bit, then made a line straight for a large
silver box that was wedged in a corner. She had seen him act this way before;
he was like a little kid on Christmas morning.
"I used this on Excaliber while I had her here. Used it on her a lot, actually. Gonna' use it to keep you well-fucked while I go check on my guests."
It was a simple machine. It was small, flat platform with two soft, curved
cuffs to hold the spread thighs of a prone woman. It had a small silver box,
the engine, that worked a simple piston back and forth when turned on. It
had a long arm with a rubber dildo on the end. It had a metal belt that would
fit her narrow waist perfectly.
Thorne set it up between her thighs, pulling it snuggly between her thighs,
and securing the belt. He pushed the massive head of the purple dildo between
the swollen lips of her gushing cunt, and flicked it on.
There was a hum, and a mechanical stutter as the machine started up, seemed
to contemplate the strange pussy that had been delivered to it, then began
to fuck Gold.
In and out. In and out. In and out. It
slowly began to pick up its pace.
"I'll be back, baby."
Boa was masturbating. She was kicked back on a director's chair, her big,
shapely, muscular legs spread. She was in her snakeskin body suit, and
spike-heeled boots, and she was deftly rubbing her clit through the slick
material.
She was giving instructions to two of Piston's groupies.
"Ok, now you sit on her face. No. Keep your jeans on, just put your ass on her face and just mash her face with your ass. See, I like your jeans on her face. I like that. Good. Now you, hold her legs over your shoulders...good...and just lick her pussy through her costume. Perfect."
"So, she's your thing, huh?" asked Satyr. Still in his suit, also kicked
back, Satyr didn't take his eyes off of Scorpio's tormented body. It was
like Boa had read his mind, and was instructing Piston's women to do exactly
what he loved to see. He loved brutalized women, several on one, smothering.
He loved Asian. He loved it all.
He loved the fact that the heroine called CutLass was sucking his cock. Tina
was on her knees, her face in her captor's lap. Both hands formed a circle
around the massive flesh weapon that sprouted from the open fly of his designer
slacks. Glistening red lips left a slick gloss on the huge cock as she took
him deep, down to the back of her throat, then back to her full lips, then
down again.
She circled the massive head with those red candy lips, then her tongue.
"You like sucking my cock?" he asked.
She pulled her head up, sleepy eyes meeting his.
"Yes."
"And why are you doing it?"
"I have no will. You ordered it. You ordered me to suck your
cock."
"Go on."
She leaned down again, and continued pleasuring him. This was good. He had
done it so many heroines that it could have become routine, it could have
become boring, but he was happy to realizes that no mind-control blow job
was exactly like the last one. This heroine was into taking the cock in and
out, deeply and slowly. She would take it all the way to the back of her
throat, making herself gag.
A few days before this, he had overwhelmed Cold Front, and made her suck
him. The young cold generator in her ice-white second skin body suit had
pumped his cock in and out of her mouth at a frantic pace. She swallowed
as though her life depended upon his cum.
After his brutal capture of Mystic, she showed him her style by circling
the head of his weapon with that swift, pink tongue of hers.
This one was different. CutLass was doing a deep-throat gag, and it was
wonderful.
He took a breath, enjoyed the sucking, and watched Scorpio. He loved it all.
Scorpio was lost between the bodies of the two busty, leggy blonds. The
red-costumed Asian made soft, muffled sounds below their curvy bodies, her
arms struggling feebly. Her legs moved, but did not force against the woman
who licked between her thighs. It was as though her body, no longer paralyzed
by poisons or held down by chains, was simply going through the motions of
protest.
There was a groupie squatting on Scorpio's face. She wore only ankle-high
Victorian boots, and pantyhose. She had her ass and crotch mashed down over the heroine's
face, covering her nose and mouth. She rocked her pelvis and massaged her
own big tits as she smothered Scorpio.
The other was eating her pussy through the material of her
costume.
"Just a little bit more," said Boa. Her words came out in a slow, lusty hiss.
If there was one thing she loved more than smothering Scorpio, it was getting
a full view of it.
"Do it until she passes out. Keep eating her, I want her to cum as she feels
herself dying."
That was her thing; she often wanted her victims to be lost in sex and death
as the crumbled to her power. That was why, when she had Red Devil, she sat on her face,
turned herself around, and used both hands to masturbate the woman's big,
gushing vagina until she came and blacked out.
There was one more muffled protest, the storm burst shudder of a powerful
orgasm from the pinned Scorpio, and then her lithe body went limp.
A heartbeat later, the women stopped.
Boa sucked air through her teeth and leaned her head back, Her big dancer's
legs trembled, and she came with a loud howl.
CutLass reared her head back, and swallowed as much as she could from an
overflowing mouthful of cum.
They all fell silent. Panting. Moaning.
He let CutLass sink to the floor.
One of the groupies spoke.
"This bitch is dead."
The half-naked blonde's words seemed to just float in the room. She pushed
her hair back, and took a closer look.
"This Japanese bitch is dead."
Juices still spreading in her snakeskin suit, Boa was on her feet and crossing
the room. Her eyes showed something
other than the rapture that had flowed between her thighs.
"What did you say?"
A feeling welled up in her, a feeling she hadn't felt since her brother thought
he'd be a real comedian an smash her doll house when she was in elementary
school. He was the first person she ever suffocated.
She pulled the woman up off of her prize possession, and tossed her aside
with a loud thud. Desperate hands fell on the face of Scorpio, as Boa opened
the prone woman's eyes and turned her head from side to side.
Her eyes were open in a thousand-yard stare, and no breathe passed between
her moist lips.
"No."
Her limbs were limp.
"Oh...no...."
Boa stood up and pushed her hair back with trembling hands. She had always
fantasized about watching Scorpio die. She always loved the idea of feeling
that sleek, costumed woman expire below her body. She had always fantasized.
But, now, after a night of ecstasy and torture, looking at that gorgeous,
limp body, she realized that she needed to possess this woman. Scorpio was
supposed to live, and be hers.
"NO!"
Satyr had been using his cock like a paint brush, smearing cum all over CutLass'
face. He looked up, at the distraught villainess.
"Damn, Piston's gonna' be pissed off."
"FUCK THORNE!" she screamed.
"This bitch broke my heroine!"
When the first of Scorpio's blows struck Boa in the base of her spine, it
all came clear. The snakeskin woman's face took on a look that seemed to
say oh, I get it...she was faking. Damn!
She went to her knees, hard, and sagged forward. She hadn't just been hit;
Scorpio had dealt out a nerve strike, shutting down the big-breasted woman's
consciousness. Numbness was
running through Boa's limbs, as Scorpio coiled her legs around the bitch
who'd been eating her pussy. She twisted her hips, and there was a loud snapping sound
that came deep from inside the half naked blond.
Her eyes rolled up in her head, and Scorpio was up and moving, striking with
a high, spinning capoiera kick that went hard across the face of the one
who'd been smothering her. The woman was in such a state of shock, as the
"dead" heroine attacked her, that she could only offer a gasp in retaliation.
She staggered, and Scorpio caught her on the point of the chin with an upper
cut. The force was precise, and perfect, and beautiful. It caused the woman's
head to snap back, and one of the vertebrae in her neck to crack with a loud,
explosive pop. She fell like a rag doll.
Scorpio turned and faced Satyr. His cock still hanging out, cum still dripping
like little, white jewels, his nonplused eyes met hers. Both CutLass and
Boa were stretched on the floor, no help to either side in this
showdown.
Scorpio as weak, and this villain's magic was pulsing in her body. Part of
her was holding on, while part wanted to be his lover.
"You don't want to fight me," said the smarmy villain. He released a wave
of pheromones. Scorpio's eyes fluttered. She rocked on her heels just a
bit.
"You want to be a slut, just like this one." He pointed at
CutLass.
Scorpio's eyes were suddenly sleepy.
He nudged as CutLass with the toe of his leather shoe.
"You don't want to fight. You're just going to..."
He released more pheromones.
"Be a slut."
Scorpio's mouth drooped open, and her arms hung slack. She felt her nipples
growing hard.
"Fight's over. That was a neat little trick , but you're captured
again."
He reached down and scooped a gob of his jism from CutLass'
face. Time seemed to drag as
he stepped over the prone heroine, and walked to his captive Asian
woman.
"Here. You're going to swallow this, then you're going to suck my cock. Your
evening is starting all over again, and you're going to be punished for that
little outburst."
He touched his fingertips to her full-lipped mouth, and slowly began to gloss
her lips with his cum. First, he glided a gentle smear across the full lower
lip, then he touched them to her perfectly arched upper lip. She stood helpless,
as he finished painting her lips, then slipped his fingers into her mouth,
wiped the semen on her tongue.
He pulled out and pressed her mouth shut.
Scorpio swallowed.
"Now, on your knees."
The next motion would forever be a blur in his mind's eye. In recollection,
he would remember her dropping to one knee, not like a slave, but like a
wrestler. He would remember the power of her grab, and her scooping of his
body, as the lithe and powerful woman lifted him from the floor and took
him into an lift.
Stunned, his body desperately pumping out pheromones, the villain felt her
go to one knee with him up above her head. He knew what was coming next.
That day, in that plush rock star's room, with Boa on the floor, and CutLass
beside her, the man called Satyr learned what it meant to hear your own back
break.
Scorpio took a moment to pat herself on the back, just a
moment. She was able to take
their abuse all night, letting them become sloppy and careless in the way
they handled her. She was able to slow her body functions to the point to
appearing dead, which was the best way to play on Boa's crush on her. Now
she would have to find a way to do battle with whomever was left in the
house.
Groggy with sex, weak, she dragged herself to the doorway.
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