The Adventures of Star Eagle

Episode 1 Birth of a Superheroine

by L'Espion

 

Chapter 4  Clipping the Eagle’s Wings

 

Melissa stayed home that night and the next, working with Karla.  She felt she had something to make up to the Russian redhead having drawn her away from her work, and then there was the fact that Melissa herself needed something of a break.  She had not realized how mentally exhausting fighting crime could be.  She was also not sure how far she could trust Karla. 

 

Caught in the act so to speak, she had been forced to come clean about her secret life.  She had told Karla many of the details about her powers, but had kept back certain bits of information, such as her susceptibility to zentoc.  And while admitting that she was not of Earth, she saw no reason to tell her that her parent (and there had been only one) was an eight-foot tall blue-skinned giant with four eye stalks, twelve fingered hands, four arms, four legs, and a pair of horns resembling those of a goat.  Nor did she think that it was vital that Karla knew she had been hatched, not born, and that her attractive navel was for the purpose of anatomical correctness only.  So far as Karla knew all extra-terrestrials looked like Earthlings and that was fine with Melissa. 

 

Interestingly, what Karla had found most fascinating about Melissa was her ability to change her eye and hair colour at will, asking to have it demonstrated again and again in various colours and hues, until finally Melissa tired of it. 

 

“I think you look better as blonde,” Karla pronounced, as Melissa went through her last transformation.  “With green eyes.” 

 

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” the heroine replied.  It had just occurred to her obtaining a new identity would be easier than she had feared.  For the moment, however, she was content to stay with Karla.  And it was more than a matter of convenience.  Melissa had truly come to like the Russian girl.  One thing she had lacked during her first month on Earth was a companion, and now she had one, provided the Russian girl stayed true.  It also solved the problem of having to explain the gigantic holes in her knowledge of Earth and Earth customs.  After all, how could a girl who knew so much about scientific matters not even know the difference between perfume and cologne, or her own bra size?  Not to mention the embarrassing moment when she had been seized by menstrual cramps for the first time.  Karla still had problems understanding that one, but now at least the Russian girl understood that there was a reason for Melissa’s mind-boggling ignorance. 

 

The third night after Karla’s discovery of her identity, Melissa decided it was time to return to the streets of Grand Centre.  The media had been buzzing about the feats of the mysterious new heroine, playing up the episode at Vicky Soares’ brothel for all it was worth.  It was important to keep herself in the public eye. 

 

The sex trade was dented, but not broken.  However, the auctioning of young women as sex slaves had stopped for the moment.  Star Eagle suspected it would start up again after awhile, but it was quiescent for now.  As a result, on this night she decided to return to her original target – the large scale raiding of warehouses.  She had received some disturbing news.  For some reason she did not understand, the police had released the thug who had captured her.  She now knew his full name; Wolf Kemper.  The computer told her that he was once more up to his old activities.  She headed directly for his warehouse. 

 

She had no trouble gaining entrance to the building.  Kemper’s henchmen were nowhere to be seen.  She found that curious.  Even more curious was the total lack of activity in the warehouse.  “Probably the police shut it down,” thought Star Eagle.  But there was someone in the warehouse.  A single light glowed in Wolf Kemper’s office. 

 

Cautiously she made her way up the staircase to the small cubicle that overlooked the rest of the warehouse.  Inside she could hear the sound of a TV set.  Opening the door, she entered.  Wolf Kemper swiveled in his chair to greet her.

 

“Well, bright eyes,” he said.  “I see you’ve turned up again.  What is your interest in me?”

 

“My interest is returning you to jail,” she said.  “I don’ know why the police let you out, but you are going right back there.” 

 

“On what charge?” Kemper replied.  “I ain’t done nothing wrong.  My lawyer posted bail until my arraignment.  You can’t lay a hand on me?”

 

“Bail, what is that?” asked Star Eagle. 

 

Kemper looked at her in amazement.  “You must be from another planet.  You don’t understand bail?”

 

Star Eagle shook her head.

 

“What it means, honey is that I don’t have to stay in jail until it is time for my trial.  You do understand trial don’t you?  Or are you judge, jury, and executioner?”

 

Star Eagle nodded.  She did know about trials.  She had simply not realized how complex the Terran legal system was.  It appeared that there was nothing she could to the the smug criminal that sat in front of her. 

 

Kemper swiveled his chair back to the TV and clicked it off with the remote control.  Turning full circle he swung back to Star Eagle.  “So you see; there ain’t nothing you can do to me.  It is nice of you to visit, however.  I been looking forward to a second meeting ever since our first was cut short.  I also want to pay you back for giving me this.”  He held up his bandaged hand. 

 

Star Eagle tensed.  Kemper’s calm was unnerving, but she could detect no danger to herself. 

 

“You know,” Kemper went on.  “I been curious about you ever since our first encounter.  You tore into my men like a demon.  I thought I was a goner for sure.  Then all of a sudden you were lying weak as a kitten on the floor.  And when we loaded you in the truck you got your strength back.  That really puzzled me.”

 

Kemper looked at his bandaged hand and winced.  “Still hurts you know,” he said.  Reaching into one of the drawers in his desk he took out a small bottle of pills and flipped off the cap with his thumb.  Tilting the container into his mouth he swallowed half a dozen tablets. 

 

“These don’t work worth a damn.  Guess I used too many rec drugs in my youth.  Anyway, back to you.” 

 

Star Eagle turned to leave.  There was no point in listening to the thug’s drivel. 

 

“Just a sec, honey cheeks,” said Kemper.  “I ain’t finished my story yet.”

 

“Why should I stay here and listen to your nonsense?” asked Star Eagle.

 

“Because I am just getting to the best part.  Pull up a chair and relax.”

 

“I’ll stand, thanks,” Star Eagle replied.  She was becoming increasingly nervous.  This thug was too confident, too arrogant.  Instinct told her that she should leave, but curiosity kept her there.  Just how much did Kemper know about her?

 

“Fine,” Kemper said, leaning back in his chair.  “As I was saying.  Your sudden weakness and recovery really got my curiosity going.  So what I did was go back to the warehouse where we first met.  Wasn’t hard getting in.  Just posed as an insurance agent.  Checked out that isle where you collapsed.”

 

Star Eagle felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck.  What was Kemper getting at?

 

“You know,” he continued, “the only thing about that isle was that it was stocked with Venus chocolate bars on both sides.  Boxes of ‘em.  I thought that was strange.  It made no sense.  Then the old noodle started ticking.”  He looked straight into Star Eagle’s eyes.

 

The heroine stood almost paralyzed as Kemper rambled on.  Had he discovered her secret weakness?  If so it could be devastating to her crimefighting career.  Any criminal could defeat her simply by carrying around a chocolate bar.

 

“You’re not human are you?”  Kemper asked. 

 

“What else would I be?” Star Eagle asked.  She wouldn’t let this thug intimidate her into giving away her origins.

 

“You ain’t much for lying, Star Eagle,” Kemper said, using her heroine name for the first time.  “I know you’re not human.  I can see it in your eyes.”

 

“And,” he said opening a drawer, “that means you’re an alien.  And an alien might have weaknesses that humans don’t.”

 

Star Eagle watched as Kemper brought a small box out of the drawer.  She had expected a weapon and had tensed, preparatory to disarming him.  The innocent looking little box caught her off guard.

 

“A little present for you,” he said.

 

Star Eagle began to back away, sure that she knew what was in the box. 

 

“Oh, don’t leave so soon,” said a voice behind her. 

 

Star Eagle whirled, standing in the doorway was Darrell.  He had come up behind her while Kemper kept her occupied.  But it was not Darrell that worried her.  In his hand he had an open box containing six neat rows of dark brown swirls.  “Chocolate?” asked Darrell. 

 

Star Eagle felt a wave of nausea sweep over her, followed almost immediately by an incredible feeling of weakness.  She staggered back against the desk and as she did so, Kemper’s arm encircled her neck, preventing her from moving any farther.  Darrell stepped forward, thrusting the box of zentoc right under her nose.  With a gasp, her legs went out from under her.

 

“Stop,” she gasped weakly.  “Take that away.  Making me dizzy.”

 

“That’s just the idea, bitch,” said Kemper, reverting to his previous pet name for her.  Tightening his grip he pulled her backward, bending her over the top of the desk.  Darrell followed her, keeping the zentoc under her nose.  Too weak to resist she lay helpless while Darrell handed the zentoc to Kemper.  Then he took her arms and bound her wrists together in front of her. 

 

Darrel placed his hands on her chest and held her down.  Star Eagle was so distressed by the sudden weakness, that she almost did not notice that his hands had palmed her breasts.  

 

Kemper leaned over her, his mouth so close she could smell the decay on his breath.  “Well,” he said,” if being this close to a few Venus Buds makes you that weak what would happen if you actually ate one?”  Taking one of the small rose-shaped pieces of zentoc from the box he held it just under her nose. 

 

Star Eagle felt her senses swim.  The smell of the powerful drug filled her nostrils.  Weakly she gasped a protest.  “No, please, poison.” 

 

Kemper placed the zentoc between her lips and forced her mouth shut.  Star Eagle’s body jerked as if it had been struck by lightning.  A euphoric rush exploded through her body.  It was a feeling of pleasure such as she had never known before.  She could not prevent the moan of sheer ecstasy or the sexual arching of her back. 

 

“Christ,” exclaimed Kemper, “the bitch is having an orgasm.  I think we got her.  This is going to be some fun.”

 

Caught up in the paralyzing rapture Star Eagle was helpless as the two thugs partly led her, partly carried her, down the stairs to the main floor of the warehouse.  There she was led to the same crossbeam where Kemper had flogged her the first time she had been captured.  Tossing the end of the rope over the beam he hoisted her arms over her head, but left her kneeling on the floor.  Then he bound her legs the same way he had the first time, tying her calves to her thighs and looping the rope about her waist and then back under her crotch. 

 

All during this process, Star Eagle remained helpless, for the most part oblivious to her surrounding as she swam in the pool of ecstasy generated by the zentoc.  Only after she had been in the awkward and painful position for several minutes did the effects of the drug wear off enough for her to be aware of her predicament. 

 

As her eyes cleared, Kemper positioned himself in front of her.  “Got a question for you, bitch.” he said.  “What’s the trick to getting that costume off you?”

 

Star Eagle shook her head, the effects of the zentoc still strong upon her.  “I can’t tell you,” she answered.

 

“The fuck you can’t,” swore Kemper.  “You’ll tell me or I’ll leave you hanging there until you come around.”

 

Star Eagle tested the ropes binding her wrists.  She was bound with only a couple of strands, but her strength was gone.  The tough hemp rope was more that strong enough to hold her.  There would be no escape unless someone chose to untie her, and Kemper was not likely to leave her alone with one of his goons this time. 

 

Desperately she tried to think of a way to save herself, her thoughts becoming steadily more anxious as time passed.  She began to sweat, beads of moisture starting out on her forehead and tricking down her face.  She knew what it was, but she tried to fight it.  She held out for another half hour.

 

“Please,” she asked finally, “could I have some more zentoc?”

 

“Zen what?” asked Kemper.

 

Zent… chocolate,” Star Eagle corrected herself. 

 

Kemper assessed the situation at once.  “No, not until I think you deserve it.”  Pulling up a chair he sat down to wait.

 

Star Eagle clenched her teeth.  The sweat was pouring off her now, spraying the floor about her with droplets as she began to tremble slightly.  Five minutes later her body was shaking alike a leaf in a gale, and her teeth wee chattering uncontrollably.

 

“P…please,” she begged.  “I…I n..need it.  Pl…please g…give it to me!”

 

“No chocolate until you tell me how to remove your costume,” Kemper countered. 

 

“N…no, I…I…I c..an’t!” Star Eagle stammered.

 

“Then no chocolate,” Kemper said, getting off his stool.  “I’ll be back in half an hour to see if you’ve changed your mind.”

 

“N…No!  Don’t g..go!” Star Eagle gasped.  She fought to pull herself together.  “There’s a small stud at the top of the neck.  Just pinch it.”

 

Kemper raised the heroine’s dark tresses, exposing the back of her neck and the top of her costume.  There, as she had said, was the small gold stud.  “Shit,” said Kemper, “I thought it was a zipper.” 

 

Following Star Eagle’s instructions he pinched it.  To his amazement the heroine’s costume began to feed itself into the stud.  Within seconds her costume was gone, leaving her naked, a small gold medallion hanging from her neck. 

 

“Jesus,” said Kemper.  “Talk about a quick change!”

 

The heroine was panting like a dog.  “Please, the zentoc!”

 

“Oh yeah, sure,” said Kemper dropping another chocolate onto the heroine’s waiting tongue.  He stepped back to admire her. 

 

Star Eagle’s magnificent body arched as the rhapsodic effects of the zentoc coursed through her.  She was an incredible sight.  Kemper could not prevent an exclamation of admiration from leaving his lips as he gazed at her.

 

She was truly the most unbelievably beautiful woman her had ever seen.  Her breasts, swollen by the effects of the zentoc were high and firm, hardly quivering as she swayed under the influence of the drug.  Dark nipples stood out like thimbles on the tip of each upturned globe.  Her waist was narrow, emphasizing the womanly swell of her hips.  Lower down, her sex organs were clearly in a state of excitement, her vulva swollen and slightly parted, the open petals revealing her erect clitoris.  Kemper could hardly contain himself. 

 

Licking his lips, and fingering an erection of impressive proportions, he stepped toward her.  And then stopped.  With an effort he controlled himself.  No, she was not quite ready.  He would wait a little longer. 

 

It did not take as long as he thought it might.  Apparently, the effects of the chocolate did not last as long with repeated use.  Like many drugs it took a larger and larger dose to achieve the same effect.  Soon the heroine was once more begging for her fix. 

 

He let her wait until she was screaming in desperation, her words so garbled that they were incoherent.  Only then did he give her a taste, enough to quiet her for a few seconds, but not remotely enough to satisfy the cravings that wracked her system.

 

“I…I…need more,” she said plaintively.  “Please, you’ve got to give me more!”

 

“And I will, bitch.  But there is something you must do for me first.”

 

Naked, helpless, and trembling from her addiction, Star Eagle looked into the merciless eyes of her captor.  “What more do you want?  Please give me the zentoc.  I’ll do anything.”

 

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Kemper said.  He unzipped his fly, taking out his more than eager organ.  “Take this in your mouth and give it a good bath.  I’ll give you a quarter of a Venus Bud, and the rest when you finish.”

 

“Not that!” Star Eagle, wailed in protest.  The very idea horrified her.  Now she better understood the fear of sexual degradation that faced every heroine.  But her addiction to zentoc was stronger than her will.  Already the insidious drug had her completely in its power as the agony of withdrawal wrenched at her guts.  With a moan she gave in.  “I don’t know how,” she moaned.

 

“I’ll show you,” Kemper replied.  He placed a quarter of the Venus Bud on her tongue, watching the strange golden glow in her eyes as the drug surged through her system. 

 

“Open wide,” Kemper promised, and do as you’re told.  Or I go away and leave you alone for a few hours.”

 

Swept up in the power of the drug, Star Eagle hardly knew what she was doing.  She only knew that she had to do as she was told, but she almost gagged as Kemper shoved the tip of his swollen phallus between her soft lips.

 

Kemper moaned as the warmth of her mouth surrounded his organ.  “That’s it, bitch.  Now close your lips around it.”  As the dazed heroine complied, he began to move slowly in and out of her mouth.  Star Eagle’s humiliation, was complete.  What more could happen to her?  Through overconfidence, and her own weakness she had placed herself at the mercy of her enemies and now she was paying the price of for her failure.

 

“Now use your tongue, bitch,” demanded Kemper.  “Swirl it around the tip.”  Almost sobbing over the vile acts that were being forced on her, Star Eagle touched her tongue to Kemper’s throbbing member. 

 

The thug groaned.  “Almost like a pro,” he gasped.  “Now suck.” 

 

The hideous ordeal lasted for hours.  She was forced to stimulate first Kemper and then Darrell.  And then Kemper again; and again Darrell.  Then Kemper brought in his other henchmen. 

 

Plied with ever increasing doses of zentoc the heroine willingly did whatever she was told, until finally her jaw aching, and covered with the filth of a score of ejaculations, Kemper ordered her cut down.

 

Her wrists bound behind her, she was marched to a storage room at the back of the warehouse.  Kemper went with her, making sure that she did not attempt to escape.  But he needn’t have worried.  The zentoc had reduced her strength to less than that of a normal woman.  In spite of her splendid musculature and perfectly conditioned body she could offer no resistance when under the influence of the drug.  Even worse was the effect the drug had on her will. 

 

She was completely addicted now, requiring the drug at frequent intervals in ever increasing amounts merely to able to function at close to normal.  Her demand for the drug made her completely dependent on her captors.  In her befuddled state of mind it never occurred to her that zentoc was freely available at any corner store or gas station.  Kemper and his men served as her providers and she was bound to them the way a breast feeding infant is bound to its mother. 

 

Kemper accompanied her into the storage room.  Untying her hands he shoved her into the centre of the room.  It was completely bare, lacking even a mattress to sleep on and devoid of a lavatory or a sink.  Kemper had removed the medallion containing her uniform from her neck and she had no way of covering her body.  Naked, humiliated, and at the complete mercy of her captors she stood in the centre of the cell, her head bowed and trembling with the first signs of withdrawal while Kemper gloated.

 

“Not so high and mighty now are you bitch?”  Where is the great Star Eagle, posing with her hands on her hips?  You’re nothing more than a cheap slut willing to suck the cock of any man who asks.”  Kemper slowly, tantalizingly unwrapped a Venus bar, watching the heroine’s eyes as he peeled back the wrapper.

 

“You want this don’t you, bitch?  Can’t take your eyes off it can you?  What a ridiculous weakness.  Reduced to a whore because of a desire for a chocolate bar.  Tomorrow me and the boys are going to have a bit more fun with you.  Then we’ve got a special treat.  Seems you’ve been real annoying to the Russian mafia.   You busted up one of their brothels and they’ve offered ten million dollars for you.  My old buddy Dmitri Vlasov has a special interest in you.  He’s the one that put up the cash.  Well, it’s time for a nap.  Have to make a few phone calls tomorrow to arrange your exchange.  And then there’s our little session as I promised.”  He tossed the bar on the floor.  “I suggest you ration this.  It’s all you’re going to get for a few hours.”

 

Star Eagle pounced on the zentoc even before Kemper was out of the room.  His mocking laugh as he locked the door emphasized her weakness and helplessness.  Suppressing a sob, she stared at the melting confection that she held in her hand.  It was enough to last her several hours if she rationed it, but the urge to consume the entire bar was almost overwhelming.  Slowly she raised it to her lips and bit off just enough to satisfy her.  With a gasp she sank to the cold concrete floor.  A single naked bulb illuminated the room.  High in the ceiling, it offered the only source of heat in the room.  Already she could feel the cold eating into her.  Wrapping her arms about her she tried to keep warm. 

 

But more severe that the chill air was the longing for zentoc.  The small amount she had taken lasted only a few minutes, but she feared to take much more of the drug.  If she used it up right away there was no way of getting more.  Exerting every gram of willpower, she set the bar on the floor and backed away from it.  She would try to last as long as possible.

 

The cramps hit her a few minutes later, accompanied by the sweating and trembling of her limbs that signaled zentoc withdrawal.  Within minutes she was consumed by the overwhelming desire to satiate her hunger for the drug.  She stood it as long as she could and then picked up the bar.  By that time she could barely walk, and her actions in retrieving the bar were frantic.  Before she could stop herself she had stuffed half the bar into her mouth. 

 

A golden glow suffused her eyes as the zentoc took hold, along with a euphoric sensation that was almost sexual in nature.  Indeed, her all too human body exhibited all the characteristics of a woman experiencing an orgasm, an effect unknown to Traxtronians, but all too real to Star Eagle.  Gasping, she fell to her knees, the remainder of the bar dropping from her fingers.  There she remained for several minutes in a position resembling that of the most devout worshipper in a church. 

 

Gradually, however, the zentoc wore off.  At first the only effect of the weakening of the drug was that she was able to operate normally.  Getting to her feet, she shivered in the chill air and wondered just how long it would be until the pangs of withdrawal returned.  She doubted that it would be very long.  She was now consuming almost ten times the original dose that Kemper had given her and each time she took the drug its effect was more fleeting. 

 

This time was no exception.  All too soon she felt the dreaded symptoms of withdrawal returning.  At her feet lay the last of the Venus Bar.  There was only a fraction of it left, not enough to last her more than a few minutes.  This time she would have little choice.  She had to fight the agony of withdrawal for as long as possible, resorting to the last of the zentoc only when she could last no longer.

 

She was on her knees, her body racked with pain so violent that she was sure death was only seconds away before she took the last piece of zentoc.  As before, she was swept up in the drug’s power.  But as before it wore off, and this time more rapidly than before.  After that she was pulled into a nightmare so frightening and painful that she had no recollection of her actions.  She only remembered waking up in the same room with Kemper cradling her in his arms.

 

“Almost left you too long, doll,” he said.  “Thought you were dead, but I guess I got here just in time.”

 

Star Eagle managed to raise herself into a sitting position.  She was still in the storage room, but the interior was now spattered with blood.  Her blood she realized. Caught up in the frenzy of her withdrawal from zentoc, she must have thrown herself at the concrete walls and steel door.  Her body was covered with gore and she could hardly move.  But the weakness was caused by zentoc.  Kemper must have forced some between her lips, thus reviving her, but leaving her helpless. 

 

“Time to get you cleaned up,” Kemper, said letting go of her.  His expression told it all.  She stank of blood, vomit, sweat, and semen. 

 

“On your feet, heroine,” he ordered.  “You’ve got a busy day ahead of you.” 

 

Obediently Star Eagle stood up.  This time Kemper did not even bother to bind her, but simply looped a length of cord about her throat and hauled her after him like a dog on a leash.  A short distance from the storage room was a rather Spartan washroom equipped with a shower.  Kemper shoved her through the door.  “I’ll be back in half an hour.  Make yourself look beautiful.  You can’t expect us to screw you looking like that.  And just remember.  The chocolate will wear off quickly.  If you want more you better not waste time.”

 

Miserably, Star Eagle entered the shower.  The warmth of the water stopped the shaking in her limbs and as the filth was washed from her body her spirits revived slightly.  But the shadow of her captivity and her addiction hung over her.  And then there was Kemper’s obscure comment.  What did he mean by “screw?”  Whatever it was it did not sound pleasant, although no form of physical torture could be any more degrading and humiliating than what had been done to her yesterday. 

 

A comb and other toiletry articles had been left by the sink.  Star Eagle combed her hair and brushed her teeth, finishing just as Kemper returned. 

 

“Well, you cleaned up real good,” the thug beamed.  “Come with me.”

 

Star Eagle thought fleetingly of resisting.  She was not completely broken, and the improvement in her appearance had enhanced her confidence.  But she was already feeling the first twinges of zentoc withdrawal.  A few minutes without a fix she would be writhing in anguish.  She was at the mercy of her captors no matter what they might do.  Kemper led her to a small room.  Star Eagle’s mouth began to water as she entered.  Spread out on a table was a wide array of foodstuffs, from scrambled eggs and bacon, to several types of fruit, a couple of loaves of bread, and a number of sweet rolls. 

 

“Eat up,” Kemper ordered, pushing her down into a chair.  “You’ll need your strength if you are to survive what I have in store for you.”

 

In spite of the misgivings aroused by Kemper’s veiled threat, Star Eagle ate ravenously.  She had used up a lot of her resources due to the ordeal she had been put through.  Even her alien-designed body required fuel to function and without food she would soon run out of energy.  Kemper did not hurry her as she ate, but waited patiently, chewing on a few strips of bacon.  When she was satiated he ordered her to her feet and led her from the room.

 

She followed Kemper through the warehouse, finally arriving at a room near where she had been imprisoned.  Kemper opened the door and ushered her in.  Inside was a large bed and not much else, except for an apparatus over the bed resembling a trapeze. 

 

“Brought this in especially for you, sweet cheeks,” he said, patting her backside. 

 

After what had happened to her the day before, Star Eagle did not bother to object to a mere fondling of her buttocks.  Besides, Kemper had the zentoc and he had not yet given her any. 

 

“On the bed,” Kemper ordered, interrupting her thoughts. 

 

“Please,” replied Star Eagle as she carried out his order, “could I have some more zentoc?  I’m not feeling well.”

 

“In a minute,” Kemper said.  “First I want to make sure that you are comfortable.”  Turning her around, he positioned her so that the trapeze-like object was in the small of her back.  Then he hooked each of her arms over it and pulled them forward tying both wrists across her belly.  Next he tied each of her ankles to one corner of the head of the bed.  Moving to the wall he turned a small crank raising the trapeze.

 

Star Eagle felt her body being lifted from the bed, but with her ankles secured to the corners she could do nothing as her weight was thrown onto her arms and her body pitched forward.  Kemper continued to turn the crank until her body was almost horizontal, her elbows pulled painfully up behind her as they took her entire weight.  She gasped in pain and discomfort, but did not cry out.  She still had some spark of resistance left.  What Kemper was doing to her was degrading and painful, but not disabling. 

 

Kemper could barely restrain himself as he watched the heroine’s body arch, her full breasts dangling invitingly and her hairless vulva fully exposed, but he continued to tighten the winch until he had her painfully arched.  By this time she was gasping with pain, her breathing forced and laboured.  She was also beginning to sweat as her hunger for zentoc increased. 

 

“Please,” she said, her voice more frantic, now, edged with the pain of zentoc withdrawal.  “Please, I need the zentoc.  I need it now.”

 

Zentoc, huh?” Kemper said.  “I’ll give you some zentoc.  I got you some high quality stuff.  Purest baker’s chocolate.  No sugar, no milk, no nuts, no filler.  Just good old pure chocolate.  It will be interesting to see what it does.”  Breaking off a single square he thrust it into the heroine’s eager mouth.

 

Aaaahhh!” gasped Star Eagle.  It was the most incredible sensation she had ever felt, sending her to heights of passion she had never dreamed possible.  The golden radiance in her eyes seemed to beam out like headlights and her body was suffused with a rosy glow.  Her breasts lifted, her nipples swelling and standing tightly erect.  Her vulva parted, the lips becoming visibly redder and her tiny clitoris swelling to several times its normal size. 

 

“Christ!” exclaimed Kemper.  He had never seen anything so amazing.  His fingers shook as he wrenched his clothes off.  “OK, bitch,” he crowed.  “It’s time to make a woman out of you.” 

 

Star Eagle panted under the effects of zentoc and the pain of her bondage. Eyes wide she watched Kemper strip, suddenly understanding what “screwing” was all about.

 

“Oh no,” she protested. “You can’t do that.  Taking a woman by force is against the law.”

 

Kemper laughed, as he climbed on the bed behind her.  He had never had an erection so hard and so big.  It was almost as if the zentoc worked on him too. 

 

“No,” Star Eagle cried.  “No, don’t do this.  I’m not ready for it.” 

 

“The hell you’re not,” Kemper said.  He knelt on the bed behind her.  He had raised her just enough that her swollen vulva was level with his erection.  Reaching forward, he placed his hands on her hips and steadied her.  Then he thrust forward.

 

“Oh no,” she cried.  “No!  Nooooh!”

 

Kemper entered her smoothly, her well lubricated vagina offering no opposition.  She was tight.  Tighter than any woman he had ever had, and her scream of rage as he deflowered her bounced off the walls. 

 

Nooo!  You’ll pay for this!”  She screamed.  Then she burst into tears.

 

Kemper grunted as he drove into her.  He was fucking a heroine and she was bucking like a bronco as he pounded into her.  She screamed again, this time quite incoherently.  “Like that do you, bitch?” Kemper gasped.  It took all of his self control not to blow his load right there.  He wanted this fuck to last. 

 

Star Eagle wept as she was defiled.  Heroines were not supposed to be treated like this.  How could she win the admiration of the Earth’s people if she was subjected to such a brutal and degrading ordeal?  But she was helpless to stop the vicious defilement of her body.  Again and again, Kemper hammered into her, making no attempt to be gentle.  As her body shuddered from each thrust he shifted his hands and clamped them over her quivering breasts, compressing the soft tissue between his fingers and pinching down hard on her nipples.  Every action hurt.  The zentoc took away her power to heal, and soon her breasts were covered with bruises and her vagina was raw and bleeding. 

 

Kemper raped her for well over an hour.  It seemed many times longer that that to Star Eagle, but when he finally spurted deep within her ordeal was far from over.  While Kemper pumped into her a crowd had gathered in the doorway.  Darrell and several other thugs looked on with obvious lascivious amusement, much to Star Eagle’s further mortification.  But even more humiliating was the fact that one of them was holding a camcorder, recording her sexual degradation for posterity. 

 

Kemper finally pulled out of her.  “Did you get all of that?” he asked.

 

“Got it boss,” answered the thug.  “Should be worth a pretty penny on the illegal porn market.  Especially with the additional footage we’re going to take.”

 

“Right,” agreed Kemper.  “Keep on filming.  It’s time for everyone else to take a turn.”

 

“Oh, please no,” Star Eagle wept.  “You can’t do that.  It will ruin me.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, bitch,” said Kemper.  “The video is the least of your worries.  Now that we know how to control you, you’re gonna spend the rest of your life as a sex slave.”

 

Star Eagle sobbed as Darrell and the rest of Kemper’s gang swarmed around her.  The next six hours were the most tormented of her life.  Darrell took her next, followed by each of the thugs in turn, but the waiting thugs were not idle.  Her mouth offered an inviting target, and one after the other they pleasured themselves orally.  While waiting for her mouth and vagina to become available, several of the men masturbated and fondled whatever parts of her body they could reach, especially her swaying breasts. 

 

Periodically, Kemper supplied her with more zentoc.  Even using the drug in its purest form she needed more and more of it.  By the end of her ordeal she was up to two squares.  She was also absolutely devastated.  She had been brutally ravished and every second of it recorded for future sale.  She hung limply from the trapeze, her thighs bloody from repeated violations.  Almost every part of her body was covered with bruises and scratches, especially in the region of her breasts, which were throbbing with pain. 

 

“Hope you enjoyed that, bitch,” said Kemper.  “I know I did.  Tomorrow your new owner is going to take possession.” 

 

“You are evil,” Star Eagle whispered.  She was too weak to speak any louder. 

 

“Thanks for the compliment,” sneered.  Then turning to his men he ordered, “Take her to the cell.  Give her one more square of chocolate.  That should hold her until morning.”

 

As she was dragged away, Star Eagle hung her head.  Beaten physically and mentally and addicted to the most dreaded substance known to exist, she was helpless in the hands of her captors.  She could not escape, and tomorrow she faced a life of bondage and sexual servitude.  A sense of hopelessness pervaded every fibre of her being.  As the cell door closed behind her, she lay on the floor and wept.  Now at last she knew what it was to be truly human.  Now at last she knew what it was to be truly helpless.


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