Victorygirl

 

By L’Espion

 

Priya Rai slowly caressed her full breasts, her fingers lingering on the dark erect nipples.  She took a long shuddering breath as her loins contracted.  “God I’m horny,” she breathed.  She moaned aloud, moving her hands over the cinnamon velvet of her skin to the tight cleft between her thighs.

 

Sweat beaded her panting body.  It was always like this after the drug wore off, but this time it was especially bad.  “I must have taken too strong a concentration,” she muttered.  It was not wise to do that.  The drug that enabled her superpowers had a powerful aphrodisiac after affect.  Taking too much of it would lead to her acting like an uncontrollable nymphomaniac, and she had no wish to wake up exhausted and stinking of sex in some sleazy hotel after she had engaged in a gang bang with a dozen strangers.  That had almost happened once and only the timely intervention of one of her friends had saved her from completely disgracing herself. 

 

She moaned again, as her fingers found her sex.  “God, do I ever need a man,” she groaned.  She looked at image in the full length mirror, trying to focus on what she was and not how she felt.  What she saw was a vision of East Indian beauty. 

 

She was quite petite, standing only five-feet-three-inches and weighing less than a hundred pounds.  Her hair was midnight black and hung past her slender shoulders.  Her body was a perfect hourglass, highlighted by large round breasts that were so firm they scarcely quivered when she moved. 

 

“God, I’m beautiful,” she gasped.  She gritted her teeth.  It wasn’t working.  If anything she was becoming more aroused just looking at herself.  She turned suddenly and strode across the thick area rug covering the marble floor and entered her luxury bathroom.  Grabbing the handle of the shower door she jerked it open.  Her hands turned the gold-plated faucets, directing a shower of frigid water over her panting body. 

 

She almost screamed, but bit back her cry as the water dampened her ardour.  If she made too much noise one of her maids would come running to see what was wrong and above all she couldn’t afford that.  She had dumped her costume in plain sight on the middle of the bedroom floor.  It would not do if her superheroine identity was revealed.  Despite the fact that she revelled in publicity, the last thing she wanted was to be constantly subjected to the twenty four hour attentions of the paparazzi. 

 

She stayed under the cold water until she was numb.  Barely able to move, she staggered from the shower and wrapped a thick towel about herself.  Shivering violently she left the bathroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the luxury carpets and dropped onto the bed.  She breathed  a sigh of relief.  The sexual cravings were still with her , but they were not nearly as bad as they had been. 

 

“I’ve got to be more careful,” she said aloud.  “What if that happened while I was out in public?”  Speaking of public, she just remembered that she had a meeting with the media in an hour.  Her unexpected arousal had temporarily driven the appointment from her mind. 

 

“I’ll just take a small dose of the drug,” she thought.  “Enough to get me through the meeting and not much else.” 

 

The thought of not meeting with the media was something that never crossed her mind.  This was publicity.  And she never missed a chance to show off before her adoring public. 

 

She slid off the bed and kicked her costume into the air, catching it in her right hand.  She noted a slight smear of dirt on the shining white fabric.  “Damn,” she would have to wash it.  She had a spare, but she didn’t want to leave herself without a clean costume and the other one was just as likely to get dirty when she was engaged in one of her missions, so she might as well get the job over with. 

 

She hated any sort of household task, even one as small as washing her miniscule costume.  It made her feel like one of her servants, but she could trust the task to no one else.  Fortunately, there wasn’t much material to wash; the entire costume consisted of only a few square inches of Lycra.  She marched into the bathroom and took out the small bottle of detergent she kept under the sink.

 

As she ran the water she stared into the mirror admiring her dark eyes, high cheekbones, small nose, and pouting lips that characterised her classically beautiful Indo-Aryan features.  She couldn’t help stepping back a little and letting her eyes drift over her high perfect breasts, dark erect nipples, and milk chocolate skin.  It really seemed a shame to cover up such exquisite beauty, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that her costume really didn’t cover very much of her body anyway. 

 

To her annoyance, the spot proved more stubborn than she had hoped.  “Piece of shit,” she muttered.  “I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste any more time doing the work of a house maid.  Wringing the wet material out she muttered another curse and tossed it into the bathroom garbage.  She made a mental note to head down to Harrold’s right after the meeting and pick up several more so she wouldn’t be faced with this irritation, meanwhile she would make do with her spare. 

 

A costume from Harrold’s would cost a small fortune, but the price was of little importance.  The wealth from her inheritance could buy the city’s most exclusive and expensive clothing store many times over.  Money was the least of her concerns and paled into insignificance compared with the importance of maintaining her image.

 

She exited the bathroom, strode past her enormous walk-in closet and yanked open the drawer on her wardrobe.  She touched a concealed catch and a panel slid aside revealing her costume. 

 

It took her only a few seconds to stretch the V-string bikini over her sylphlike body.  It consisted of little more than a thin piece of almost transparent fabric that looped about her slender neck and swept down over her breasts in two widely separated bands that converged at her loins.  It left her buttocks completely exposed and barely covered her mound of Venus and the succulent treasure between her thighs.  Had her globular breasts not been so firm the slightest movement would have dislodged them, but Priya was not the least concerned.  With her, the greater sensation she could create the better.  After all, what was the point in being a superheroine if she could not show off her considerable assets to full advantage.

 

 

She preened for several minutes in front of the bank of mirrors that allowed her to study her body from every angle.  Everything looked good, now there was just one more detail.  She reached into the wardrobe cubby hole one more time and took out a small vial containing a dark blue liquid.  “Just a couple of CCs this time,” she murmured.  “Enough to get me through the interview and back.”  She raised the vial to her lips and drank.

 

She was immediately taken by the drug.  The taste was horrid and she had to fight off her gag reflex to keep it down.  Then its effects swept over her, beginning with a powerful series of cramps that doubled her over and had her using gasping in agony. She had to use all of her strength of will to keep from screaming. 

 

She staggered over to the bed and gripped the ornate art deco bedpost until she thought the wood would splinter under her grip, and then the pain passed, replaced by a wave of euphoria and a sexual surge that left her breathless.  For a few seconds she would have fucked anything male that came through the doorway, but then the feeling passed, replaced by the sense of power and invulnerability that she always associated with the drug. 

 

Priya felt that nothing on the face of the earth could possibly harm her, something that she knew was patently untrue.  The drug gave her immense strength; the ability to fly; tremendous endurance; the ability to heal minor injuries almost instantly; the power to cool objects to below freezing with her breath; and special vision that enabled her to deliver hammer blows with her eyes.  However, she was not invulnerable.  If she was stabbed or hit by a bullet it could kill her if the damage was severe enough.  Nevertheless, any minor injuries she could shrug off, and the fact that her tremendous speed and reflexes placed all criminals at her mercy gave her tremendous confidence. 

 

She paused one more time in front of the mirror.  She so enjoyed looking at herself, but it was more than that.  She enjoyed it even more when people looked at her.  For her adoring public nothing less than perfection would do.  It never hurt to give herself one more careful check.  She frowned, focusing on her image.  Was she showing a little bit too much tit; or not enough?  Her nipples were barely concealed and she didn’t want to become a victim of the Janet Jackson Syndrome. 

 

“I’ll do,” she thought.  Stepping to the balcony of her luxury townhouse she launched herself into the air.  She rose straight up, gaining altitude in order to prevent anyone on the ground from seeing where she had come from and then levelled off. 

 

The flight across town to the interview would normally have taken only minutes, but halfway there she picked up a message on the police band micro-receiver she carried inside her ear. 

 

“Hostage-taking in progress,” the message crackled.  “Bank robbers holed up in Central City Bank.  Send for SWAT.”

 

“SWAT,” Priya sneered.  They’d be most likely to kill the hostages by mistake.  This was a job for Victorygirl and one that would make her meeting with the media even more impressive.  She changed course and swept down on the bank.

 

She frowned as she circled the thirty story building.  The police were there in force, but where were the television news vehicles?  This was a prime time event.  There seemed little point in charging in to the rescue unless there was someone there to film it.  Hoping that she hadn’t been seen, she circled the building and came to a landing on its roof.  Damn this was irritating.  Did she have to do everything herself?  For a few brief seconds she considered phoning Central City TV and giving the production manager a piece of her mind, but then she remembered that she could probably do that during the in depth interview this afternoon.  She would just wait until the cameras turned up and then go into action

 

She didn’t have to wait long.  Several news vans pulled up behind the police barricades and a dozen reporters and cameramen piled out.  “Slackers,” she muttered.  “Probably covering some story about a kid falling into a well instead of doing their jobs.”  She moved to the edge of the building and plummeted dramatically into the developing media scrum.

 

“Victorygirl!” shouted one of the reporters.  “You going to save the day?” 

 

She turned in the direction the questioner, arching her body slightly to emphasize her impressive breasts.  She had landed on the roof of one of the TV vans in order to stand taller than the surrounding police officers and members of the media.   Acutely conscious of the fact that she stood only a few inches over five feet, she tried to make sure that she positioned herself to look down on anyone in her presence.  Whenever she couldn’t her four inch spike heels helped to give her those extra inches she needed to make up the difference. 

 

She gave the reporter, a good looking man she knew very well, her most dazzling smile.  “Hi Bill.  I certainly intend to once the police have explained the situation.”

 

“Victorygirl.”  This time the voice was not quite so welcoming.  Pushing his way through the circle of reporters and cameramen was the Central City Police chief.  She and Chief Meyers had often locked horns over her intervention in what he considered “police matters.”  In private he had even had the bad manners to accuse her of being nothing more than a glory hunting exhibitionist who was turned on by showing off her tits and tight ass in front of the cameras. 

 

“Chief Meyers,” she answered with false enthusiasm.  “How nice to see you again.  You and your men come up against something you can’t handle again?”

 

“There is no ‘again,’” the Chief answered, his face turning beet red.  “The police have the situation under control and don’t need the help of an interfering amateur.”

 

Priya ignored the insult.  She was secure in her position as the darling of the media.  No matter how much they might dislike her the police didn’t dare ignore her or try to prevent her from helping.  She had saved the lives of too many citizens and broken up too many brazen robberies not to be taken seriously.  And her popularity with the media and average citizen gave her a position of influence that could not be disregarded.  

 

“And just what is the situation, Chief?” she asked.

 

The members of the media and the assembled onlookers looked at the Chief expectantly.  His face turning scarlet, he shrugged and then answered.  “I’d rather not discuss it in public.  The situation is rather delicate.”

 

“Perhaps we could speak privately,” Priya suggested sweetly.  She knew she had won the confrontation.  The Chief would be forced to explain what was going on which was the same as including her in the operation.  He would not be able to object when she took matters into her own hands and pulled off a spectacular rescue.

 

“Over here,” the Chief said, motioning toward a small command centre that had been set up just across the from the bank.  He motioned the police officers that were there to move away so that he could speak to the superheroine.

 

Lightly, Priya leapt from the roof of the van and landed next to the fuming police chief.  He was in her face before her feet even touched the ground.  “Look you little twat.  We don’t need your help.  There are innocent people trapped in that bank and I don’t want you crashing in and placing their lives in danger.  You’ve got no idea just how lucky you’ve been that so far your show-off style of law enforcement hasn’t gotten anyone killed.”

 

“Why, Chief,” Priya answered pleasantly.  “I do believe you’re jealous.  Are you afraid you’ll lose your job if I deal with too many dangerous situations?  Well, don’t worry.  I’m sure there will be lots of parking tickets you can issue and any number of drunks you can haul off to the slammer.  You just leave the realy difficult cases to me.  Or would you rather I go on TV and tell everyone that the only superheroine in the city has been forbidden to save any lives by the Chief of Police?

 

The Chief ground his teeth.  The police were already under heavy criticism following a round of scandals involving police brutality, corruption, and plain incompetence.  It would not go down well with the Police Commission if Victorygirl was excluded from her crimefighting endeavours. 

 

“Go ahead then, you little whore.  Just try not to get anyone killed.”

 

“Oh no, Chief,” Priya responded.  “I think that’s more your department.”

 

The Chief turned an even darker shade of red.  They both knew that Priya was referring to a horrendous shootout in which the police had accidentally killed and wounded a half dozen innocent bystanders. 

 

“Fuck you,” the Chief swore.

 

“Not today,” Priya laughed.  “You’re a bit too old for me.”  Without waiting for an answer she rose into the air and after describing a slow circle in front of the cameras, she headed straight for the bank.

 

Speed in a hostage situation was critical.  She was relying on the fact that the thugs inside the bank could not react fast enough to harm anyone before she was on top of them.  It was a good bet.   At full speed her body was just a blur and she was helped by the fact that the bank stood in a relatively open area.  She had determined when she arrived that the sun would be behind her when she made her move.  She doubted that anyone in the bank would even see her until it was too late. 

 

She also didn’t take the obvious route into the bank.  They would be excepting her to take the front door or one of the windows.  Instead she headed straight for one of the top floors and burst in through an upper window. 

 

She found herself in a rather plush executive suite, but she didn’t bother to chat with the startled businessmen or admire the plush furniture.  She headed straight for the elevator shaft.  As she wrenched open the door she smiled to herself.  There was more than one way to gain the main floor.  The hostage takers were in for a real surprise. 

 

She dropped twenty stories straight down.  As she expected the elevator itself was on the bottom floor, but she knew that the hostage takers had probably disabled it by pushing the emergency button.  She could hear the bells ringing all the way down the shaft. 

 

She smashed through the access hatch in the top of the elevator without stopping and rushed through the open doors.  As she entered the main floor of the bank her eyes swept the room, taking in everything in less than a split second.  There were about thirty people in the bank, six robbers and two dozen hostages. 

 

The hostages were lying face down on the floor, two men with guns standing over them.  Another two were standing at the windows, watching the police outside, and the last two were behind the customer service area.  One of them was holding a phone.  No doubt he had been talking to the police. 

 

She didn’t even pause to make a decision.  She might be vain and attention seeking, but Priya was good at what she did.  Without hesitation she headed straight for the two men guarding the hostages.

 

To her superheroine senses everything seemed to happen in slow motion.  The men by the hostages began to turn their heads in the direction of her attack, but they never finished before she was on top of them.  She didn’t hit them hard.  She had never forgotten the sickening smack when her fist had smashed through the skull of a hold-up man early in her career, but her fists hit them hard enough that both men were unconscious before they hit the floor. 

 

Even as they were falling she was moving toward the two men at the windows.  They just had time to turn before she took out each of them, slamming their bodies hard into the thick glass of the bank’s windows.  The entire attack had lasted less than a couple of seconds and she was already heading toward the last two robbers.  And then everything seemed to speed up.

 

Priya knew at once what had happened.  The Victorygirl drug had worn off.  She had taken only enough to get her to the interview and back, a period of about two hours.  She had completely forgotten that any extra exertion of her superheroine powers used up the drug at several times the normal rate.  

 

“Shit,” she thought.  “What a time for this to happen.”  The last two robbers were over thirty feet away, but without her super speed there was no way of reaching them before they reacted and no way of dealing with them in any case without her super powers.  For all intents and purposes she was nothing more than an extraordinarily attractive young female in a V-string bikini facing two heavily armed men.  There was only one thing she could do.

 

She came to a complete halt in the middle of the bank and placed her hands on her hips.  Thrusting out her chest, she stared calmly at the two remaining robbers who were staring at her in stunned amazement from behind the customer service counter. 

 

“Well boys,” she asked in her loudest and (she hoped) most confident voice.  “Are you going to come quietly or do I have to give you the same treatment as your four friends received?” 

 

The two men looked at her with a mixture of fear, curiosity, and finally lust.  Priya was used to all three reactions, but she hoped that the first emotion was the dominant one.  She could imagine what must be running through the minds of the two remaining bank robbers.  They had just seen an incredibly beautiful and deadly young woman disable four men without effort in less than two seconds.  They must have known that they would be next and must be wondering why she had stopped. 

 

Priya moved slowly toward the hostages, placing herself between the two remaining men and the people lying on the floor as if she was protecting them.  She had to gamble that the two last two robbers would think she was attempting to protect the hostages and not call her bluff.  At the same time she was desperately hoping that one of the hostages would have the intelligence to get to his or her feet and go for the police. 

 

“You’re finished you know,” she continued.  “Lay down your guns and I won’t have to kick your backsides from one end of the bank to the other.”

 

One of the robbers slowly stepped forward.  He was still holding his gun.  Behind her Priya could hear movement as several of the hostages did what she had hoped and took advantage of the situation to escape.  The robber who was moving seemed not to notice.  His eyes were fixed on her and there was something in them that made Priya distinctly uneasy.

 

“I don’t think so,” said the robber slowly.  “I don’t know what just happened, but there is something funny going on here.  You had us completely at your mercy, but decided not to finish the job.  I think that is because you had no choice.  Something’s happened to your powers hasn’t it?”

 

Priya continued to bluff, but she had broken out in a cold sweat.  Part of it was from the reaction that always followed when the drug wore off, but a good deal of it was fear.  In all of her career as a superheroine she had never faced any criminals without her powers.  The man facing her was over six feet tall and powerfully built.  In addition, he was still armed.  If he was any kind of shot he could bring her down before she took a single step. 

 

She held her ground.  “You know nothing of my powers.  I can take you any time.  Save yourself a lot of pain and lay down your guns.”

 

The other robber spoke up.  “She’s faking it, Brett.  Look at her.  You can see the sweat pouring off her.”  Rather than lowering his gun he raised it, drawing a bead on Priya’s chest.

 

Behind her Priya could hear more hostages making a break for it.  The robber who had spoken to Brett noticed it as well.  “Hey, the fucking hostages are getting away.”

 

“Let ‘em go, Mike.  We don’t need them.  I think we’ve got ourselves a superheroine instead.”  Brett placed a hand on the counter and vaulted over it.  He crossed the space to Priya in four strides.  He loomed over her.  “That’s right isn’t it, bitch?  We’ve got you and if we’ve got you we don’t need any other hostages.”

 

“You haven’t got me yet,” Priya retorted.  As part of her training and as a way to keep in shape Priya had studied several forms of martial arts.  As Brett stood in front of her she aimed what she hoped was a disabling blow at his crotch. 

 

The only problem was that Brett seemed to have done a bit of studying himself, or perhaps it was that she telegraphed her blow.  In any case, as her knee came up he stepped back and then moving forward he clipped the side of her head with the barrel of his gun. 

 

Stunned by the cowardly blow, the petite heroine fell to her knees.  Somehow she managed to remain conscious, but that only made it all the more mortifying as Brett pushed her to the floor, jerked her arms behind her, and then bound her securely. 

 

Priya yelped in pain as the thug grabbed her hair and yanked her to her feet.  “Now you know what you’re up against don’t you bitch?  He leered into her face.  “You and I are going to have some fun before we’re through.”

 

Priya stared back at him in confusion.  How could she have let this happen?  She was Central City’s most powerful heroine, and she had been brought to her knees by a couple of common thugs.  How could she have been so stupid as to forget that she had taken only a small amount of the drug that enabled her superheroine powers? 

 

“Not so self assured now are you heroine?  I’m not sure what happened to you, but it’s nothing compare to what’s going to happen.”

 

“You, son-of-a-bitch.  Let me go or I’ll make to sorry you ever laid eyes on me.”  Priya glowered at the thug who had captured her.  Her response was part anger, part fear, and part lust.  What would this humiliating turn of events do to her carefully nurtured heroine image?  It would make her a laughingstock.  Who ever heard of a superheroine being captured by a couple of lowlife gangsters? 

 

“Laying my eyes on you is the least of what I plan to do,” Brett replied.  He slid his had under the thin band of cloth that partially covered her left breast.  Priya winced as he closed his hand hard over the soft flesh, but at the same time she almost moaned in pleasure. 

 

“Get your hands off me you prick!” Priya cried.  She was more afraid of responding to his fondling than she was of what he was doing, but at the same time she was outraged that he would dare treat any woman that way.

 

In reply the robber boss pinched her nipple.  Priya clenched her teeth.  That hurt.  And it drove home just how vulnerable she was.  If Brett chose he could do anything he wanted to her, including subjecting her to the most depraved of sexual tortures.  She had watched his face as he hurt her and there was nothing of normal pleasure in his eyes.  He was enjoying hurting her.  It sent cold thrill of fear through her. 

 

“You bastard,” she grunted.  “You get your jollies out of hurting women?  You’re nothing but a gutless coward.”

 

“Before I’m finished with you bitch you’re going to be crying in pain.  I’m going to hurt you like you’ve never been hurt before.”  He slid his hands lower, going to the mound that hid her sex.  “Jesus,” he crowed, “I see you’re well prepared.”  He slid his hands over her vulva stroking her and then inserted a finger between her nether lips.

 

Priya experienced two reactions, one of shame and one of arousal.  He had discovered her carefully depilated pussy.  It had cost small fortune to have the hair permanently removed, but she thought it had been worth it.  She had, however, never counted on some small-time criminal fondling her there.

 

She bit back a moan.  Christ, if he touched her one more time she wouldn’t be able to control herself, but just then Brett’s accomplice yelled at him. 

 

“Stop fucking with the heroine and give me a hand.  The police could stage a rush at any time.  They don’t know we’ve got her hostage.”

 

Reluctantly, Brett withdrew his hand and Priya breathed more easily.  “Later, bitch,” Brett commented.  “I’ll be looking forward to fucking your tight little ass.”

 

The horror of her situation almost drove away her lust.  She was in the hands of a sadistic thug.  If there was a worse scenario she couldn’t think of one.  “What would that gain you? Priya asked.  “That sort of brutality will simply get you a longer jail sentence.”

 

“With all the crimes I’ve committed I’ll be in for life anyhow,” Bret replied.  “Might as well add rape and torture to the list.  They can’t give me any more for that.  Besides, it’s not every day that I get to work over a superheroine.”

 

Priya gasped in pain as Brett roughly propelled her toward the door.  He had used a lamp cord to bind her elbows together so that they were pinched into the middle of her back.  It was incredibly painful, making it very hard to breathe while at the same time forcing her to arch her back and thrust her prominent breasts forward.  She began to sweat in fear and apprehension.  Suddenly she felt her sexual desire returning.  Somehow her very helplessness had her incredibly aroused. 

 

“Oh God,” she thought.  “I’m completely at their mercy.  They can do anything they want with me.”  Suddenly, she was very very frightened.  So frightened that her terror drove all thoughts of sex out of her mind.  For a few seconds she had found her situation sexually stimulating, but that was gone, replaced by a leaden weight in her guts that would not go away.    

 

Holding her by the arms, Brett marched her across the room to the front entrance of the bank.  Holding her by the cord that bound her arms he pushed her into the open, but stayed directly behind her, using her as a human shield. 

 

Brett shouted over her head to the waiting SWAT team.  “I’ve got your heroine.  If you want her to live another five minutes you’ll listen very carefully to what I have to say.”

 

It was her worst nightmare.  Not only had she failed to apprehend the bank robbers, but she had been taken hostage herself.  She could see the news cameras trained on her and knew that she would be on every six o’clock newscast.  It was not the type of publicity she had been hoping for.  To be captured by such low level criminals was the ultimate humiliation.  She wanted to shrink into the concrete and disappear as Brett made his demands.

 

Had it been up to Chief Meyers she doubted that any of the demands would have been met.  He would have welcomed her demise, but even his intense dislike did not blind him to the fact that he had to at least give the appearances of being on her side.  He gave Brett everything he asked for.  It was only as the powerful SUV was speeding away from the bank with her tied in the back seat that she realized giving Brett and the other bank robbers what they demanded was the perfect way for the police chief to be rid of her.  One of Brett’s demands was that he and his gang not be followed.  If that demand was carried out there would be little hope of rescue.

 

It was only then that Priya’s fear exceeded her state of arousal.  Suddenly she was scared stiff.  What if Brett and his men had their way with her and then …

 

“No,” she thought.  The idea was unthinkable.  Superheroines were not kidnapped and murdered.  Were they?  She had never heard of such a thing.  But she came to the sudden understanding that it was the perfect way to dispose of her.  However, she decided to brazen it out.  As the car sped into the tunnel beneath the East River, she opened her mouth and voiced her displeasure.

 

“You’ll never get away with this.  You better let me go.  I’m a superheroine.  I’ve got powerful friends.”  She felt foolish making such threats.  The robbers had tied her ankles together and bent her knees up and secured them to the cord binding her elbows.  She could hardly move and could barely draw a breath.  Her only consolation was the fact that no one had made the least effort to remove her costume.  But then there really was no need.  The V-string bikini was so brief that it hid very little of her body and quite possibly the robbers preferred to let her keep her clothing for the time being.

 

Her protests gained Brett’s attention.  It was clear that he was the leader of the bank robbers.  When he gave orders everyone carried them out.  “Never get away with it? Brett asked.  “I’d say we’re doing pretty well so far.”

 

“You must be crazy,”Priya continued.  “Do you really think the police won’t follow you.  No doubt the car is bugged and there is a police helicopter somewhere overhead.”

 

“I thought about that,” Brett answered smugly.  “That’s why we’re taking the tunnel.  A copter can’t see us in here.”

 

“But you have to come out,” Priya insisted.  “You’ll be spotted as soon as you do.”

 

Brett only smiled.  Priya soon saw why a few minutes later. 

 

The SUV came to a halt halfway through the tunnel.  Priya wondered what that was all about until her feet were loosened and she was pulled out of the vehicle.  She saw that they had stopped by a door in the wall of the tunnel.  All at once she understood.  “Shit,” she thought.  “They’re going to try to escape through one of the maintenance tunnels.”

 

Brett grinned at her expression.  “Not so stupid now am I?  And don’t worry I haven’t forgotten about you.  When we get to where we’re going you and I are going to have a nice long session.”

 

The after-effects of the superheroine drug had worn off.  Priya now felt only fear at Bretts’s suggestion.  There were a total of six bank robbers.  What if every one of them decided to have a turn?  Several of them had openly threatened her when they had regained consciousness.  A few of the threats had been extremely graphic in their brutality.   Suddenly the thought of being at the mercy of a band of criminals was not quite so appealing, but she was given no further chance to object. 

 

Before she could protest Brett suddenly stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth and tied it in place.  “Don’t want you giving us away,” he grinned.  Taking her by the arm he directed her through the open doorway.  With a loud clang it closed behind her.

 

Priya didn’t have much time to take in her surroundings.  She was force marched through the tunnel as the robbers hurried in their attempt to escape.  She noticed only that she was in a long concrete tunnel.  Here and there a door opened to one side or the other, but the robbers ignored them, moving through the semidarkness as fast as they could.

 

Within minutes, Priya’s chest was heaving.  She simply couldn’t enough air through her nose and the gag prevented her from breathing through her mouth.  Her captors, however, ignored her distress and moved on without paying her any attention, except to jerk her roughly by the arms when she moved too slowly.  By the time their frantic pace slowed, she was ready to collapse. 

 

“It looks all clear, boss,” said one of the men.  Priya had heard him called Fred.  Apparently the gang members all used first names when they were on a job.  Probably none of them were real.  It mattered very little to Priya what they called one another, but she had particular reason to remember Fred.  He was a huge man, probably weighing well over three hundred pounds and during the ride in the SUV he had made a point of telling her in graphic detail everything he was going to do to her.

 

“Right,” Brett answered.  “Is the van there?”

 

“Right where we parked it,” Fred answered.

 

“Alright, let’s go, but keep a tight hold on the heroine just in case.”

 

“No problems about that,” Fred grinned.  He placed his hand on Priya’s right breast as he manhandled her forward. 

 

Priya grunted in pain as Fred’s huge hand crushed her breast.  It gave her an idea of what to look forward to, and she was filled with an almost overwhelming sense of panic.  Her knees almost buckled in fear and she would have fallen had Fred not held her up.

 

“Come on, bitch,” the huge man growled.  “I can’t fuck you here.  Wait until we get to the hideout.”  He helped her to the van, opened the back door and literally threw her inside. 

 

Priya found herself in a walled off area in the back of the van.  It was empty except for her and sealed off from the rest of the van by a metal grill.  It made the perfect place to keep her as the van started up and drove off.  Any thoughts about somehow getting the door open and jumping out of the moving vehicle were banished when she heard the click of the doors locking.  She was trapped until her captors let her out.

 

The drive to wherever they were going was uneventful.  There were no windows in the van so she could only see through the front windshield and that view was obscured by the grill and the heads of the gang members.  Several times one of them turned around in his seat to stare at her.  She didn’t like the way any of them looked at her. 

 

“What am I going to do?” she wondered.  She had sometimes fantasized about being captured and forced to submit to the attentions of a bunch of criminals, but the reality was horribly different.  Except for Brett, who was sort of cute, none of the gang members were the sort she would normally have slept with. 

 

There was Mike, who had been with Brett when she had been taken prisoner.  He was heavyset, with several days’ growth of beard and a slight beer-belly.  Next there was Tony.  He was thin, pimply-faced and had teeth that looked as if they had never been anywhere near a toothbrush.  The forth member of the band was Phil.  He was older than the others, probably in his forties, and looked as if his life had been pretty rough.  He had a fairly long beard and a nose that was heavily veined, possibly from too close an acquaintance with the bottle.  Then there was George.  He was a scowling thug in his mid-thirties.  She thought that there was something very strange about him.  He never smiled and when he turned his cold blue eyes on her it sent shudders down her spine.  And finally there was Fred.  He had already made his intentions more than clear.  She felt complete helplessness and dread as the van slowed and then drove into what seemed to be a large industrial building.

 

Brett got out of the driver’s seat and marched around to the rear doors.  He opened them, and taking Priya by the arm pulled her out of the vehicle.  “Home sweet home,” he grinned. 

 

Priya looked around her.  She was inside what appeared to be a warehouse.  The van was parked next to a loading dock with a flight of concrete stairs at one end.  Brett led her toward the stairs and then up them onto the loading dock.  From there he moved her toward a door.  Fred was already there.  The big thug produced a key and unlocked the door.  With a knowing sneer he motioned for Brett and Priya to precede him into the room.

 

It was not what she had expected.  She was picturing the inside of a warehouse with rows of industrial shelving and stacks of cardboard boxes; instead what she walked into was a large and rather comfortable living area, complete with a widescreen HD TV; several comfortable couches; and a bar and refrigerator.  It was obvious that no members of the gang were into cleaning.  The room stank of tobacco smoke and contained several ashtrays filled to overflowing.  Numerous empty bottles and cans littered the room, standing on almost every level surface.  Plates of partly eaten food and empty pizza boxes were scattered about.

 

Brett made no apologies for the mess.  He pushed her forward until she was standing in the middle of the room.  All the gang members filed in and stood in a circle around her.  Priya almost wet herself.  It was everything she could do not to sink to the floor and curl up into a ball.  Her heart was beating so rapidly that she felt like a rabbit surrounded by hungry wolves.

 

“What do you think she’s worth?” Mike asked.  “Think we could get a couple hundred grand for her?”

 

“We’ll have to see,” answered Brett.  Who knows how much the city will pay to get its superheroine back.  But if we start high we can’t go too wrong.”

 

“A couple of hundred thousand?” Priya thought.  She spent that much in a couple of months of casual shopping.  But she couldn’t ransom herself.  It would give away her secret identity.  But on the other hand if paying her own ransom was the difference between being set free or remaining a prisoner, then what choice did she have?

 

“What’s all this talk about ransom?” someone said.  It was the first time Priya had heard that voice and she turned her head in the direction of the speaker.  It was George, and his tone was distinctly menacing. 

 

“Since when did we become kidnappers?” he continued.  “We’re bank robbers.  I say we fuck her, beat her up, and then get rid of her.  Ransoming her is too risky.”

 

“Well,” Brett answered, “I think it’s too late to worry about being kidnappers.  We’ve already got her.  I agree about the fucking, but bumping her off seems like a hell of a waste.  We could get more for her than in ten bank jobs.  I expect a few million wouldn’t be out of range.”

 

“Why don’t we try her out now?” Tony suggested.  “Who knows?  It might be weeks before we can arrange a ransom.  We might as well find out if she’s worth keeping.”

 

“An excellent idea,” Brett agreed.  “I’m sure our heroine won’t mind if we find out if she’s worth keeping alive.” 

 

As he finished speaking he removed the gag, allowing Priya to draw a proper breath for the first time in over an hour.  She sucked in several lungfuls of air and then gasped out a protest.  “You can’t do this,” she said, when she was able to catch her breath.  I’m a superheroine.  You’ve got to treat me with respect.” 

 

Brett laughed for a good thirty seconds as did the men around her.  All but George.  “You’re really something,” the gang leader finally said.  “You dress like a whore at a bachelor party and talk about respect.  I’ll give you respect.  Without warning he backhanded her across the face. 

 

The blow sent Priya spinning across the room.  She would have hit the floor had she not been knocked across the back of one of the couches.  Before she could fall Brett arched her across the back of the couch and then separated the straps of her bikini, revealing her flawless breasts.  He gave a quick jerk on the material and tore the flimsy costume from her body.  “Hold her there,” he ordered.  “It’s time to get started.”

 

“No,” Priya whimpered as Brett dropped his pants.  He was already sporting an erection large enough to bulge out the front of his undershorts.  When he slid them down his member stood up at an angle of forty five degrees.  Someone (she thought it was Mike), held her from behind, keeping her arched over the couch.  When Brett spread her legs, she almost lost her composure. 

 

“You fucking bastard,” she raged.  “You’ll pay for this.  You’ll wish you’d never laid eyes on me.”

 

Brett chuckled.  “I’m a fucking bastard alright. But it’s you I’m going to be fucking.  Enjoy.”

 

As he spoke the last word he entered her.  Priya grunted in pain and screamed in rage.  “You cocksucker!  You fucking asshole!  I’ll kill you!” 

 

Her next words were lost in a cry of pain as Brett penetrated her to the full length of his shaft and one of the men around her squeezed her left breast.  “No,” she whimpered.  “No.  Stop.  You’re hurting me.”

 

“That the whole idea, you little slut.”  Brett withdrew a little and then drove into her again.  He then began to pump into her rapidly, bringing himself to a level of excitement that was so extreme that he ejaculated into her inside of a minute.

 

“What a man,” jeered Mike.  “You sure know how to pleasure a woman.”

 

“It‘s not her pleasure I’m concerned about.  Besides, I don’t plan to fuck her only once.  The next time I’ll give her something more to remember me by.”

 

Brett stepped aside and Mike took his place.  There seemed to be a well defined pecking order in the gang.  Priya wondered who would be after Mike even as he took her.

 

Mike’s initial thrust was not nearly as painful as Brett’s had been.  But that was because Priya was now well lubricated by Brett’s semen.  However, the second-in-command took a good deal longer than Brett before he was satisfied.

 

“You…won’t…get…away…with…this,” Priya gasped as Mike thrust rhythmically into her.  “I’ll…get…even.”

 

“She sure talks a good fight,” George commented as he squeezed Priya’s breast yet again.  “But without her superpowers she's nothing but another helpless slut.”

 

Priya tired to hide her pain and humiliation.  Her breasts hurt like blazes from George’s cruel mauling; her face was bruised from where Brett had slapped her; her head ached from the blow from Brett’s gun; and her vagina was beginning to feel as if it was being sandpapered.  Brett’s initial penetration had come without any preparation and although she was slipperier the second time, she was far from properly lubricated.  The rape hurt, and it was going to get worse.

 

That prediction was proven true when the next man took her.  It was George and the huge man had a phallus to match his size.  She could not help letting out a cry of pain as he entered her.  It was like being raped by a jackhammer and was made worse by the fact that George placed his full weight on top of her.  The huge man squeezed the breath from her lungs and put so much weight on her pelvis that she was sure it was going to break. 

 

She screamed in pain.  “St….Stop!  You’re…crushing…Agghhhh!”  She could not hold back her scream of agony as Fred slammed the full length of his phallus into her.  He was incredibly big and normal intercourse with him would have had to be very gradual.  To be spiked like a railroad tie was agonizing.  Physically and mentally exhausted, Priya could no longer play the part of the brave heroine.  She screamed and pleaded like a frightened girl.

 

Tony took her next and then George.  Phil had his turn last.  He was mercifully quick, but by then Priya was almost past caring.  However, her ordeal was far from over.  It was Brett’s turn again.

 

“You’ve got a nice tight cunt,” the gang leader commented.  “At least it was.  Now let’s see what your ass is like.”

 

Priya cried out in protest.  “No, please don’t.”  Her pleasure garden felt as if it was on fire after the sextuple rape and her breasts throbbed with pain due to George’s mauling.  The thought of anal rape was terrifying.  She had only tried anal sex once with a boyfriend who was not particularly well endowed.  Even that had been painful.  Brett’s member was at least double the size.

 

“Please,” she cried again as Brett pried her legs apart.  She was looking face down into the cushions of the couch, her heavy breasts winging back and forth as she struggled.  She contracted her sphincter in an attempt to keep him out, but he pushed his finger into her anus, smearing it with some sort of cool jelly.  Then he parted her buttocks and began to press into her.

 

He grunted at the effort it took.  “That’s it, bitch,” he grunted.  “Fight.  It makes the victory all the more pleasurable.”

 

Priya let out a whimper as Brett slid slowly into her.  It was a real battle.  Her powerful buttocks were so tight that he could penetrate her only a millimetre at a time.  But he gradually had his way, forcing his thick phallus into her until with a sudden thrust he was inside her.

 

“Eeeaagghh!”  Priya’s scream told clearly of her defeat.  But she wasn’t finished.  As Brett enjoyed her she screamed again and again, her resistance broken. 

 

“Might as well put that mouth to some use,” Mike commented.  He was standing facing her, his pants around his ankles and his male member at the ready.  While Priya screamed he grabbed her by the hair, bent her head back and forced his cock between her pouting lips.  Priya’s screams were muffled as he forced the head of his shaft to the back of her throat.  Priya did not cooperate, but Mike seemed not to care.  He fucked her mouth while Brett fucked her ass, both men pumping in and out of her with complete disregard for anything but their own pleasure.

 

After that the other members of the gang became a little more inventive.  It was Fred’s turn next, but he teamed up with Tony and George to make it a foursome.  Priya moaned as Tony and George manhandled her onto George’s thick phallus.  He was lying on his back on the couch and they lifted her so that she was suspended above him and then lowered her onto him. 

 

To Priya’s now tender cunt, it was as if she was being impaled.  She cried out and begged for mercy as the three men forced the throbbing member into her.  Then while Fred pulled her to him, Tony climbed onto the couch and took her from behind. 

 

Her will to resist broken, Priya screamed for them to let her go, but of course that did not happen.  Instead George forced his way into her mouth and then the three gangsters spent the next hour enjoying themselves at her expense.  The triple rape left her too beaten and exhausted to even notice when Phil finally took his turn.  The violation turned into one long drawn out ordeal as she was repeated raped in as many ways as her captors could devise.  When Priya was finally left alone she was too beaten to even notice. 

 

They let her sleep; or rather her captors took a few hours off from fucking her.  They were, however, far from finished with her. 

 

She awoke in a haze of pain.  The pain in her loins and breasts was sheer agony, and small wonder.  She was bruised from her thighs to her waist and her tender breasts were covered with bruises and bite marks.  She was still bound, her arms still twisted so painfully behind her that she could hardly breath.  She had no feeling in her arms below the elbow and she feared that her circulation was completely cut off. 

 

She also stank abominably.  She was caked in sweat and semen and her thighs were stained to her knees with dried blood.  As she opened her eyes she moaned loudly, alerting the men around her.

 

Brett stood in front of her.  “God you stink,” the gang leader sneered.  “Not much of a heroine now are you?”

 

Priya bowed her head, but some spark of resistance flared in her.  “You’re scum,” she replied.  Her voice was thick from lack of water and hoarse from screaming, but her tone was completely defiant.  “You think that taking a helpless woman makes you a man, but it doesn’t.  It simply shows how weak and pathetic you are, that you have to prove your manhood by violating someone who can’t fight back.  You’re nothing but a gutless coward.”

 

Brett turned bright red and his face twisted in anger.  Priya couldn’t resist sticking the knife a little deeper.  “You know it don’t you?   You’re just a little man, hiding behind your guns and knives.  Taking people hostage because it gives you a sense of power.  But really you’re nothing.  You’re not even good at what you do.  No self-respecting bank robber would have botched the job so badly he got himself trapped in the bank.  You can fuck me all you like, but it still won’t make you a man.  A real man.”

 

She stopped speaking, and stared straight into his eyes, daring him to do something to her.  Brett’s mouth twisted as if he was about to reply, but apparently her could think of nothing to say.  Priya sneered in contempt.  She had put the thug in his place.  It was probably not the smartest thing she had ever done, but she would not have taken back a single word.  Trapped and helpless, beaten and brutalized she had stood up to the gang leader and defied him in his own lair.  Somehow, it made her feel like a heroine again. 

 

“You fucking little whore,” Brett said, finally finding his voice.  “We’ll see just how brave you are after I’ve finished with you.”  He turned to the other gang members.  “Spread her.  I’m going to give her a fucking she’ll remember for the rest of her life.”

 

Priya resigned herself to another round of rape and brutality.  She bit back the cry of pain that tried to force its way past her lips as her legs were yanked apart, but to her surprise Brett made no move to drop his pants.  Instead he picked up an empty wine bottle.  Priya suddenly had second thoughts about her outburst.  “No,” she thought.  She tried to hide her fear.  “No, he can’t be going to do that.”

 

“Don’t worry, bitch,” Brett leered.  “I’ll make sure it’s well lubricated.  He took out a tube of KY jelly and began to smear it over the neck of the bottle. 

 

“What’s the matter, you little whore?  Cat got your tongue?  Not so smart mouthed now, are you?  He knelt between her legs and with the precision of a gynaecologist inserted the top of the bottle into her vagina. 

 

It went in smoothly for the first few inches.  But Priya almost wept in fear.  “It’ll never fit,” she thought.  “It’s too big.  Too big.”

 

She began to breathe heavily, her bruised breasts quivering as she began to twist her body in a pathetic attempt to avoid the terrible pain she knew was coming.  Her eyes were stung by the sweat that poured into them, but she could not tear her eyes away as Brett worked the bottle ever deeper.  And then it began to hurt. 

 

Other than her heavy breathing she made no other sound and then a whimper escaped her lips.  The wine bottle was halfway into her, forcing apart her pelvic bones and stretching her in a way intended only in childbirth.  The corresponding pain was greater than anything she could have imagined and there was no respite as the gang leader forced the huge glass dildo deeper and deeper.  Priya’s whimper turned into a sob, and then a cry of pain, and finally a scream of agony. 

 

“Stop,” she screamed.  “You’ll ruin me.  It’s too big.  It won’t fit.”

 

Brett proved the last statement false by forcing the bottle in until only its base was showing.  By that time, Priya was screaming and crying incoherently. 

 

Brett let her scream, and then black spots swirled in front of Priya’s eyes.  The world seamed to fade and then she fainted. 

 

She didn’t stay unconscious long.  The excruciating pain between her legs told her that.  But the bottle was gone, tossed among the numerous others littering the room.  The couch cushions between her thighs were stained with her blood.  Brett stood over her, his entire posture threatening.  “That will do for a start.  But it’s time to get you cleaned up.  If I’m going to fuck you again I don’t want you smelling like the inside of a used condom.”

 

There was no way that Priya could stand on her own, But Brett rolled her over, untied the cords binding her arms and hauled her to her feet.  Priya sobbed in pain at the returning circulation.  It felt as if her arms were on fire, but at least she had feeling.  She had feared that the circulation had been cut off so long that permanent damage might have been done.  Still, she cried out at the agonizing rush of blood back into her forearms.  She cried even more when the brutal gang elder forced her to stand then marched her across the room, twisting her right arm behind her to make sure she stayed on her feet.

 

Somehow Priya found the strength to do it and found herself being taken through a door into a hallway that opened on a well appointed bathroom.  In spite of the fact that the hideout was obviously occupied by a bunch of slobs it appeared that they didn’t mind spending money on things that mattered.  Although it couldn’t compare with Priya’s own luxury bathroom, it had everything it needed.  Brett kicked aside the towels that littered the floor and pushed Priya into the shower.  “Get yourself cleaned up.  I’ll be coming for you in half an hour and if you’re not clean I’m going to shove that bottle up your ass.”

 

Priya had no doubt that he would do it, but she needed no urging to settle herself into the shower, but first she went to the sink and downed a half dozen glasses of water.  She was completely dehydrated.  During her ordeal her captors had given her nothing to eat or drink. 

 

Her thirst slaked, she went to the shower and opened the door.  Fortunately it was a fully modern installation, complete with a fold-down seat.  She turned on the water, sat down, and let the water play over her battered body.  It was the most wonderful and relaxing shower she had ever had.  As the stink of her ordeal was washed from her body a feeling stole over her that was almost euphoric.  For a few minutes the horror and degradation of her ordeal was literally washed away and it was several minutes before she could lift a hand to apply the soap and shampoo. 

 

The warm water seemed her help restore her circulation and she was able to move her fingers well enough to lather her velvet skin and shampoo her silken hair.  In the back of her mind, however, was Brett’s parting threat.  He would call for her in only half an hour.  The sudden surge of fear that thought created had her finishing her shower faster than she would have liked. 

 

“I’ve got to get out of here,” she muttered.  “Perhaps they’ve left the door unguarded.”

 

She now lamented the fact that her time in the shower had robbed her of the opportunity to escape.  However, she knew that had she attempted to escape earlier she would have lacked the strength.  The short time in the shower seemed to have somehow revived her.  Was it possible that she still retained a little bit of her superheroine powers?  She had no time to analyse the situation.  Dripping water from her velvet brown skin she crossed the bathroom and opened the door a crack.  To her surprise the corridor outside was completely deserted.  Was it possible that the bank robbers were actually that incompetent?  And then she heard a sound that explained everything. 

 

It was unmistakable.  The hoarse shouts of police officers as they ordered the bank robbers to surrender left no doubt about what was going on.  “I’ve been saved,” she thought.  She could hardly believe her good fortune.  The sense of relief that swept over her was almost orgasmic.  In just a few seconds her fate had changed 180 degrees.  She was free.  She could go back to her adoring public and fight crime again.

 

“But I can’t go looking like this,” she thought.  She was naked, dripping wet, and her hair was a mess.  Not only that, but her body was covered in the brutal evidence of her ordeal.  She was bruised and battered, her body displaying bite-marks and the ugly abrasions corresponding to being gang raped.  To be rescued in that condition was unthinkable.  She looked around for something to put on her nude body.  If she could just delay rescue a few minutes she could make herself presentable and perhaps even make her way home undetected, although she hadn’t thought that last problem out very well. 

 

She spotted a large bath towel.  It would hide her body well enough if she wrapped it about her.  She was just reaching for it when the door to the bathroom burst open.

 

“Chief Meyers!”  Priya stood with her arm outstretched, her naked body completely on display.  For a few seconds the Police Chief just stared at her; then he slowly nodded, a small smile playing about his lips. 

 

“Well,” he murmured.  “Fancy meeting you here.” 

 

For one of the few times in her life Priya could think of nothing to say.  She simply stood in mid-stride, staring back at the Chief.  Then he did something very strange.  Slowly he closed one eye in an obvious wink and without a word tossed something toward her.  Then he closed the bathroom door.  Outside Priya could hear the sound of his voice.  “Nothing in there.  Take that scum out to the paddy wagon.  “I’ll check over the rest of the joint.”

 

Priya breathed a sigh of relief.  The man she had least expected to help her had done something completely astonishing.  In disbelief she looked at her costume.  It was torn, the bikini straps snapped when Brett had torn it off, but she could easily tie them together.  As quickly as she could she dressed.  Just having her costume on made her feel immeasurably better.  Already her mind was buzzing with some way of getting out of the mess she had gotten herself into and preserving her reputation.  But first she had to find her way home and restore her superheroine powers.  It was imperative that she appear before her fans as soon as possible to quiet any wild rumours. 

 

She waited until the uproar outside the bathroom died down before she made her move.  Slipping silently from the bathroom she listened carefully outside the living room before peering into the room.  It was a shambles; furniture smashed and the numerous liquor bottles and ashtrays scattered over the floor.  On the carpet was a dark stain that did not appear to be alcoholic.  It appeared that some of the gang members had not gone quietly. 

 

She found it strange that the hideout was seemed completely deserted.  Why had no one stayed to collect evidence?  However, she was not about to question her good fortune.  She was free, now she only had to figure out some way to get home.  Perhaps if she was incredibly lucky there might still be a vehicle in the garage, although the chances that Brett had obligingly left the keys in it really would be too good to be true. 

 

She headed for the door, still alert for any sound that the police might still be there when she heard a slight sound behind her.  She whirled in surprise and found Chief Meyers standing in the doorway she had just come through.  He must have been further in the hideout checking for any evidence.

 

“Chief Meyers,” she said again.  For a second she hesitated and then blurted out a thank you.  “You saved me,” she continued.  “I know I shouldn’t have expected it, but it shows that you are a true professional, putting your work before your feelings.  I can’t thank you enough.”

 

“I think you can,” the Chief replied.  He had moved across the room so that he was standing just three feet from her.  He hardly had to move to plant his fist in her stomach. 

 

“Whufff!”  The air whooshed out of Priya’s lungs like a punctured balloon.  The blow picked up her petite body and hurled it over a coffee table where she lay gasping desperately for breath. 

 

Chief Meyers didn’t give her a chance to recover.  He snapped a pair of handcuffs over her wrists, securing her hands in front of her and then picking her up carried her from the room and down the hall.  He bypassed the bathroom and kicked open the door to another room.  “I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said as he tossed Priya onto the four poster  bed. 

 

Forcing her arms over her head he unlocked the cuffs and then relocked them around one of the bars of the bedstead to that her arms were over her head.  Then she stood up and looked her over.  “Looks like that bunch of assholes really worked you over.  I hope you’re up to what I’m going to do.”

 

Priya yanked at the handcuffs, rattling the bed, but she was completely helpless.  “You can’t do this,” she protested.  “You’re an officer of the law.  You’re sworn to protect women not…”

 

“Not fuck them?” Meyers finished for her.  “You’re right about that.  But in your case I’m going to make an exception.  After all what are you going to do?  Go to the media and tell them everything that happened to you?  Not bloody likely.  That would ruin your reputation.  You’re nothing but a glory hunting whore and I’m going to treat you like one.”

 

“Fuck you,” Priya replied.

 

Meyers smiled.  “No, it going to be you who gets fucked and its going to be the fucking of your life.”

 

Priya already thought she had received the fucking of her life, but she was not so sure when Meyers undressed.  Although in his forties, the Chief was in good shape, with just a hint of a paunch and he was hung better than any man she had ever seen except George.  To her considerable chagrin she felt a strange sensation come over her as he climbed onto the bed, parted her bikini and took her left nipple into his mouth.

 

“Oh no,” she thought.  “This can’t be happening to me.  Not with him.  Not after the number of times I’ve already been screwed.”  But there was no denying the hardening of her nipples nor the feeling of warmth that spread through her loins. 

 

“No,” she thought .  “No, please make it stop.”

 

But her body wasn’t listening.  It was everything she could do not to arch her back in anticipation as Meyers' lips explored her body.  She felt so helpless, so vulnerable, so open, so aroused.

 

Unlike Brett and the other men who had raped her, Meyers did not brutalize her.  Instead he slowly caressed her body with his lips and hands until she let out an undisguised  moan of pleasure.  Meyers stopped for a few seconds.  “You really are a little slut.  That gang of thugs fucked you black and blue and now I’m about to do the same and yet you’re moaning in desire.”

 

“You bastard,” Priya replied.  “You’re making me do this.  It’s not my fault.”

 

“Really?” Meyers replied.  “Do you want me to stop?”  As he asked the question he slid his hand down over her taut belly and cupped her mound of Venus.

 

“Yes,” Priya gasped.  “Please stop.” 

 

“I don’t think so,” Meyers replied.  He took the straps of her bikini and for the second time snapped them in two and then he pulled the costume from her body.

 

“Oh god,” Priya thought.  “I can’t stop him.  He’s going to fuck me and I’m utterly helpless.”

 

The bondage had her completely aroused.  As the Police Chief spread her legs she tugged half-heartedly at the handcuffs for the sake of appearances if nothing else, but she couldn’t hide her state of arousal as he kissed and fondled his way down her body.  The very fact that he was not trying to hurt her was such a change from the way the gang had treated her that she was moaning in pleasure even before he entered her.  As his cock slid home she arched her body into him and cried out in ecstasy.  She changed her tone a little as he penetrated her more deeply.  Now her pleasure was tinged with pain as Meyers’ impressive organ sank into her tiny body. 

 

“Oh God,” she cried.  “Oh, oh!”

 

“You want me to stop, slut?”  Myers asked again.  This time Priya’s reply was to arch herself into to him so that he could penetrate her to the full length of his shaft.  She cried out as he entered her fully, but the pain was bearable and the pleasure so intense she that her vagina contracted, gripping Meyers in a warm fleshy vise.  He grunted in pleasure, his breathing heavy as he approached orgasm and then he exploded with in her, filling her with his thick cream. 

 

Priya let out a little moan of disappointment as he pulled out of her.  He had not fucked her nearly long enough.  “I thought you were going to give me the fucking of my life,” she complained.  “You hardly lasted half an hour.”

 

“I’m sorry that I’m not up to your sluttish standards,” Meyers replied.  “But I’m satisfied and that’s all I care about.”

 

“A real man would care more about his partner,” Priya pouted. 

 

“Then I guess I’m not a real man then, am I?” Meyers replied as he pulled on his clothes.  “However, I am quite satisfied.”

 

“You lazy fucker,” Priya cursed.  “How about unlocking these handcuffs?”

 

“You just don’t get it do you, slut?  Didn’t that punch in the gut make it clear how I feel about you?  You’re not going anywhere until I’ve finished with you.”

 

“Finished with me?”  Priya did not like the sound of that.  “What are you going to do?’

 

“Have a little more fun,” Meyers replied.  He was finished dressing.  His uniform was a little rumpled, but there was no other sign that he had just fucked a superheroine.  He leaned across the bed and unlocked the handcuffs.

 

“About time,” Priya said, attempting to sit up and rubbing her wrists.  But her relief was short lived.  Meyers gave her a forehand slap across the face that sent her sprawling.  Then before she could recover he snapped the cuffs back on her, dragged her from the bed and lifting her slender body hung her from one of the posts. 

 

Her lip bleeding from the blow and her head reeling Priya hung helplessly from the post, her feet a foot off the floor and her slender body exposed to whatever Meyers was planning.  “You son-of-a-bitch,” she raged.  “Why did you do that?  Let me down you goddamn copper.”

 

“After I’ve finished with you,” Meyers replied.  Priya was given no time to ask what he meant by that before her hit her.  Her struck her just below her left breast.  The punch drove the air out of her a second time.  Before she could recover he proceeded to give her the beating of her life.

 

He was very professional.  He avoided her face and took care not to damage her too severely, but he made sure that he hit as many vulnerable and sensitive parts of her anatomy as he could.  At the end of half an hour, Priya was barely conscious, her once-gorgeous body a mass of pain. 

 

“I feel a lot better now,” Meyers said, rubbing his knuckles.  “Much much better.  But I doubt you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

 

Priya did not reply.  She was having difficulty breathing.  It felt like one of the punches had cracked a rib and she was in so much pain she couldn’t imagine trying to speak. 

 

“Now you little bitch it’s time to say good by.  I hope you’re good at swimming.”

 

Priya had no idea what Meyers meant by the last comment.  She was so badly battered that her brain wasn’t working.  All she knew was that every part of her body hurt.  When Meyers lifted her from the post and tossed her over his shoulder she moaned in agony.  She was only vaguely aware of where he was taking her and didn’t react when he tossed her into the trunk.  Nor did she notice how long she was in there before the trunk was opened.

 

The sudden light striking her eyes temporarily blinded her, but she was aware of a strange surging sound.  At first she could not place it then she realized that it was the sound of waves breaking on the shore.  Wherever the Chief had taken her it was close to the ocean.

 

“You like the seaside?” Meyers asked.  “I hope so.  You’ll be spending a bit of time here.”

 

Priya was still in no condition to talk.  She let out another whimper as he dragged her from the trunk and then lifted her to his shoulder once more.  Through the haze of pain she could hear the sound of the waves breaking on the shore getting louder and louder.  Somehow that worried her; that and the strange clanking sound that accompanied her and Meyers as he carried her. 

 

It was only when Meyers set her down that Priya bothered to look around.  She was sitting surrounded by several large barnacle encrusted rocks in an area of damp sand.  Just a few feet away the waves were lapping at the base of the rocks.  She noted that sometime in the past someone had secured a heavy iron ring into one of the rocks.  What purpose it might have had once she had no idea, but she suddenly had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen.

 

“Sorry to leave you here,” Meyers said.  “But the tide will be in shortly and I have an aversion to getting my clothes wet.” 

 

There was no question as to what Meyers was going to do.  Priya’s wrists were still handcuffed and while she watched he snapped a second pair around her ankles.  He then ran a length of heavy chain through the cuffs on her ankles and wrists and then completed the circle by looping the chain through the large iron ring and locking them together with still a third set of cuffs. 

 

“You can’t leave me here,” Priya whined.  “If the tide comes in I’ll drown.”

 

“It’s not if the tide comes in,” Meyers answered.  “It’s when it comes in, and I guess you have about an hour before it is three feet over your head.”

 

Priya was fully conscious now, her danger finally penetrating her clouded mind.  “You can’t do this.  It’s murder.  You’re a police officer.”

 

“Yes,” Meyers said.  “And a damned good one until you came along and fucked things up.  People started comparing the police to you and decided that we weren’t doing a very good job.  With you out of the way things will return to normal.”

 

“You’ll never get away with it,” Priya protested, jerking the chain that linked her to the boulder.  “It’s cold blooded murder.”

 

“You know the really great thing about this is that it will never be connected to me.  The last time you were seen alive by anyone except those thugs was when you were taken hostage.  Your disappearance will be blamed on the bank robbers.  And if your soggy body is ever found they’ll get the blame for your murder.”

 

“Why don’t you just hit me over the head?” Priya asked.  “It would be so much easier.”

 

“It would wouldn’t it?” Meyers said.  “But not nearly as satisfying.  Can you imagine what it’s going to be like when the water slowly rises around you, getting deeper and deeper as it creeps up your body.  Then it will finally reach your head and mouth.”

 

“You sadistic bastard.  You’re not a cop.  You’re nothing but a low life thug.”

 

“I wish I could stay,” Meyers said, ending the conversation.  “But it is probably best if I wasn’t seen here.  Oh, by the way.  Feel free to scream all you want.  The closest house is about five miles away.”

 

Priya opened her mouth to complain, but Meyers was finished talking.  He was already fifty feet away and within seconds stepped around a large rock and disappeared.

 

“Shit,” Priya swore.  Things just got worse and worse.  She jerked the chain again, but without her super strength there was no chance of breaking the links.  She looked toward the ocean.  Already she could see the waves breaking across the rocks just a few yards away.  In a few more minutes the water would reach her feet and then start to rise toward her head.  She didn’t want to think any farther than that.  She had to get away.  Her life as a superheroine couldn’t end with her drowning on some lonely beach. 

 

She jerked again at the chain.  “Think Priya,” she muttered.  “There must be something you can do.”

 

Unfortunately, nothing came to mind.  She could only sit and watch as the water reached her feet and then began to rise up her body.  She knelt in front of the rising tide and within a few minutes it had reached her thighs and then her crotch.  She was startled at how cold it was even in the height of summer. 

 

Priya fought back panic.  Her mind was perfectly clear now and the situation looked hopeless.  She jerked at the chains again.  It was a completely useless action, but it brought to mind something that she should have noticed earlier had she not been so preoccupied with her plight.  The pain of her injuries was gone.  Under different circumstances that would not have surprised her.  When she took the drug she had enhanced powers of healing.  The brutal beating Meyers had given her would have healed almost immediately.  However, she no longer had her powers.  Why then was she still not suffering from the brutal ordeal she had endured both at the hands of her kidnappers and Meyers?   She remembered wondering about the same thing earlier and it now seemed confirmed that all of the effects of the superheroine drug did not wear off right away.  Her powers of healing, although diminished, still seemed to be working.  Had they not been she would still be completely incapacitated. 

 

The discovery, although interesting did not help her now.  What she was facing could not be dealt with through her powers of healing.  In a short time she would be drowning and the water had already reached her waist.  She shivered as the cold water surged higher.  It was fortunate that it was the middle of summer or she would be suffering severely from hypothermia. 

 

She stretched as high as she could.  But no matter how she tried she could not raise herself more than a few inches higher. 

 

The water surged up to her breasts, lapping against her nipples.  She was shivering now, and not just from the cold.  Fear gripped her.  The mighty Victorygirl was going to drown, chained helplessly. 

 

“I can’t die like this,” she whimpered as the water lapped at her neck.  “I’m only eighteen.”  The water seemed surprisingly cold, or perhaps it was her fear that made it so.  It seemed a pathetic way to die after all she had been through, and all that she had yet to do.

 

The water was now up to her mouth.  She coughed, spitting salt water as a slight surge sent the water up to her eyes.  She tilted her head, trying to keep her mouth and nose above water.  During all this time she had not called for help, believing what Meyers had told her.  But now, faced with drowning, she opened her mouth wide and screamed with all her might.

 

The sound wailed away, disappearing among the louder sound of the waves crashing on the rocks around her.  Another surge sent more water into her open mouth and she coughed again desperately trying to keep from ducking her head. 

 

The water was over her mouth now and she could no longer scream.  Another wave rolled in, covering her head.  She kicked frantically at her fetters, but there was no escape, she succeeded only in removing the skin from her wrists and ankles, a pain she scarcely noticed as the water covered her nose. 

 

She took a deep breath as the water closed over her.  She was doomed, but she would not give up.  She held it as long as she could, unconsciously counting off the seconds.  Ten…, twenty…, thirty.   How long could she hold her breath?  A minute?  Two minutes?  Perhaps three.  No matter, she was going to drown.

 

Sixty seconds.  A minute and a half.  Her lungs were straining, but she refused to release her breath.  Two minutes.  There was a pounding in her ears and her lungs felt like they were on fire.  Two and a half minutes.  Three.  Her vision began to dim, black spots dancing before her eyes once again. 

 

Then she detected a movement in the water.  Some vague form swimming beside her.  The vision blurred, dancing, perhaps treading water.  Her lungs were going to explode.  And then there was a face in front of her.  A man’s face, pushing toward her.  What the hell?  Was he trying to kiss her?  It made no sense.  And then his mouth was on hers and she understood.

 

Air from his mouth was pushed into hers.  But she already had a lungful of air.  She turned her head and released the air from her lungs only to find that the man was gone when she turned her head back.

 

Now she was suffocating, her lungs empty; living on the small amount of oxygen that remained in her blood.  And then he was back, his face pressed to hers.  This time she sucked greedily, taking all he had to give her.  Air.  Second hand air, but still air.  Vaguely she remembered that human lungs did not remove all the oxygen from the air that was inhaled.  There was still enough in the air the man breathed into her to keep her alive

 

He was gone again, rising to the surface.  She saw that he was not so very far above her.  Probably just a few feet.  She couldn’t see his head and realized that he must be drawing another breath.  And then he dove back down.  As he approached she was able to see that he was fully dressed, wearing cut-offs and a T-shirt.  He was still wearing his shoes. 

 

He pressed his lips against hers, giving her the kiss of life.  Then he was gone again, returning to the surface to refill his lungs.  He dove down again and Priya wondered how long he could keep it up.  Had someone else been with him and perhaps gone for help or was he alone? 

 

He was back again.  How many times had he breathed air into her lungs?  Five?  And how long could he keep it up?  His mouth was on hers again, and once more she greedily took the life-giving air from his lungs. 

 

He had to be tiring.  Six dives already.  And then seven.  Finally ten.  Each dive giving her a few more seconds of life.  But she doubted her heroic rescuer could keep it up much longer. 

 

Fifteen dives, now, but she noted that the interval between each was increasing.  The man was definitely tiring and she was exhausted as well.  The cold water was sapping her strength and she had not been in particularly good shape to begin with. 

 

He dove down again.  More slowly this time.  He was fighting his way through the water as his strength waned.  But she noticed something else.  Was it her imagination or was the distance from the surface to where she was slightly less than it had been?  Perhaps there was a chance.  If the tide had turned, and if her life-saver had enough endurance, and if she did not succumb to hypothermia…  It was a lot of ifs, but there was no alternative if she was to live. 

 

Five more dives, but she could definitely see that he did not have to travel as far.  The tide was going out.  Just a little longer…

 

Another five dives or maybe it was six.  The top of her head broke water.  She could almost survive on her own now. 

 

Air!  She had survived to the turn of the tide.  But she was still trapped.  Her rescuer seemed exhausted.  Barely about to move, he splashed through the surf to the shore and then staggered farther up the beach. 

 

She was surprised that he did not wait.  He must be almost ready to collapse.  Surely he would want to wait a few minutes just to keep an eye on her if nothing else. 

 

If her rescuer was exhausted, then Priya was doubly so.  How long had she been in the numbingly cold water?  An hour?  Two hours?  She had no idea.  She only knew that as the water receded she lacked the strength to stand.  Slowly she sank into the wet sand, sprawling almost full length in total collapse. 

 

A sound made her turn her head and Priya saw, somewhat to her surprise that the man who had saved her was back.  She could get a better look at him now and saw that he was not much older than she was, probably in his early twenties.  He was tall and broad-shouldered; his arms well-muscled like those of an Olympic swimmer.  His hair was the colour of the wet sand, and he studied her with a pair of bright blue eyes. 

 

He blushed when she caught him looking at her.  Priya realized that she was, of course, completely nude.  She was not the slightest bit embarrassed.  She was too much of an exhibitionist for that, but the same did not hold true for the young man.  He desperately tried to look somewhere that did not light upon a sensitive portion of her anatomy. 

 

“I… I thought I’d try to get you loose,” he stammered.  He waved a hammer and a tire iron as he spoke. 

 

Priya did not reply, but a slight smile played about her lips.  More than anything she wanted to get somewhere warm and dry, but she was not blind to the humour of the situation. 

 

“Always carry a few tools,” the young man mumbled as he knelt beside her.  He took a chisel out of his pocket and placed it against the chain linking the handcuffs on her wrists.  Using a rock as an anvil he slammed it hard several times.  With a small “clink” the links parted and Priya’s wrists were free, although she still wore the bracelets.

 

He repeated the process with the cuffs binding her ankles, freeing her from the heavy chain that connected her to the rocks.  Tucking the tire iron and hammer into his pants the young man placed his hands under her and lifted her.  Almost apologetically he explained his purpose.  “I have to get you somewhere warm.  My van is just up by the road.”

 

He lifted her easily, although Priya was sure he must have been very tired from all that swimming and diving.  She was now shivering violently and would not have objected to whatever he was going as long as it was someplace with a source of heat.  She noted that he must be very cold as well.  He was still dressed and his clothing was completely soaked. 

 

A five minute walk brought them to the van.  While he carried her the man talked.  “It’s a good thing for you I came down here.  I was going to go surfing and then I heard you scream.  Perhaps when you’re warmed up you can tell me how you came to be down there and who did this too you.  My name’s Bruce, by the way.  Bruce Wilson.  Maybe you can tell me yours when you are able to talk.”

 

Bruce’s sentences came out one after the other with without a pause or break between them.  Clearly he was a little uncomfortable to be carrying an incredibly beautiful and mysterious nude woman.  Especially one he had found chained to a rock with the tide surging over her head.

 

They reached the van at last.  It was an older model Dodge, spotted with numerous patches of rust, but Priya did not care.  She welcomed any sort of shelter. 

 

Bruce opened the side panel and set her inside.  There were several towels, a blanket, an ice chest, and a surfboard on the floor and he immediately gathered up a couple of the towels and wrapped her in them.  Then he went to the driver’s seat and turned on the engine.  He turned the heat up high and then put the van in gear.  At that point, Priya found her voice.

 

Although her teeth were chattering furiously she managed to stammer out a question.  “Wait!  Where are you going?”

 

“I’ve got to get you to a hospital.  You must be close to collapsing from hypothermia.”

 

“No, please.  Priya replied.  “Just let me rest here awhile.  I don’t want a hospital.  I’ll be alright.”

 

Bruce looked at her doubtfully, but to her relief took the van out of gear.  A hospital was the last place she wanted to be.  She could imagine what the media would make of a superheroine being driven ignominiously to a hospital by some surfer who had found her on the beach.  It would seriously tarnish her image. 

 

As the heat flooded into the van, Priya began to feel a lot better.  She felt some of her strength returning and with it her appetite.  She hadn’t eaten in almost a day.  “You wouldn’t have anything to eat would you?” she asked.  “I think I need food.”

 

“I’ve only got a couple of energy bars,” Bruce replied popping open the glove compartment.  And I’ve got a few cans of Coke in the ice chest.”

 

“That would be perfect,” Priya replied.  She even managed to flash him a smile as he handed her the energy bars and got a can of Coke form the ice chest. 

 

She ate slowly, and was relieved to feel a surge of strength within her.  It was obvious that the superheroine drug lasted a lot longer than she had thought.  She knew very little about the mysterious potion that gave her her superpowers and decided that first chance she got she was going to have to read up on it and find out exactly what it did. 

 

She drank the Coke quickly, enjoying the tang of the bubbles on her throat and then looked at Bruce.  A warm feeling had come over her and it was especially concentrated in her loins.  You must be very uncomfortable,” she said.  Why don’t you get out of those wet things?  There’s a blanket you can wrap yourself in.”

 

Actually I’ve got a change of clothes under the seat.  I always carry them just in case.  But I didn’t want to change in front of you.”

 

“That’s OK,” Priya said.  “I’ll close my eyes.”  She shut her eyes tightly as she finished.  And in a few seconds she heard Bruce’s shoes hit the floor.  She waited for about thirty more seconds and then opened her eyes.

 

“Oh my,” she said.  “Just look at that.”

 

Bruce paused with his foot half out of his boxer shorts.  His fair complexion was crimson with embarrassment.  “You said you would close your eyes,” he said accusingly.

 

“I did,” Priya replied sweetly.  “But now they’re open.”  She made no attempt to alter the direction of her gaze, not even to look at Bruce’s face as he spoke.  Her eyes were firmly fixed on the biggest cock she had ever laid eyes on. 

 

“Well,” she thought.  “Maybe this is not such a bad day after all.”  She dropped the towel covering her breasts and looked at Bruce expectantly. 

 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” he said.  “An hour or so ago you were drowning.  You should be in a hospital emergency ward.”

 

“I’m feeling much better,” Priya smiled.  “But I’m a little chilled.  I just need something to warm me up.”

 

Bruce appeared to be already warmed up.  His impressive phallus quivered and began to swell even as Priya watched. 

 

“I don’t believe this,” Bruce said as he stepped toward her.  “I find the most beautiful and mysterious girl in the world drowning on my surfing beach and now she wants me to fuck her.”

 

“You won't fuck anyone if you don’t stop talking and get over here.”

 

Bruce needed no further invitation.  He wasn’t the most sophisticated lover Priya had ever had, but what he lacked in expertise he more than made up for in youthful enthusiasm. 

 

He began by sucking both her nipples erect.  Priya was so aroused that she didn’t let him get much farther than that.  She dragged him down on top if her, wrapped her powerful legs around him and dragged him into her.

 

She let out a cry that was part ecstasy and part surprise.  He was big.  After being fucked first by George and then by Meyers; plus having a wine bottle shoved into her, Priya thought she could handle anything.  But apparently her powers of recovery extended to restoring her vagina to its original size.  Bruce’s impressive phallus caught her off guard and she had to bite back a yelp of pain as he penetrated her.  But she recovered quickly, arching her body into him and digging her nails into his back as a wave of passion overtook her. 

 

“Oh,” she moaned.  “Give it to me.  Give it all to me.”

 

Bruce accommodated her, driving into her with the force of a truck and pounding her until she writhed in pain and pleasure.  Priya hardly knew what to believe.  One second she was swimming in carnal delight and the next trying hard not to cry out in pain.  Bruce also had one other impressive characteristic.  For the first time in her life Priya met someone who could outlast her.  By the time her surfer lover came she was so sore and exhausted that she could barely move.  When he gathered her into his arms after he had satisfied himself she snuggled into him with an exhausted moan of pleasure.

 

“Was that OK?” Bruce murmured.  His tongue tickled her ear and for a second Priya though he might be ready to start again.  She would have let him, but she was not sure that she would have survived it. 

 

“That was a bit more than OK,” she replied.  “It was fantastic.  She snuggled into him and slept.

 

When she awoke it was dark.  She was very sore, but pleasantly so.  She was warm, sleepy, and still wrapped in the arms of the man who had saved her life.  It was a strange new feeling for her.  Usually it was she who did the saving.  She felt a warm glow of gratitude inside her that went beyond anything she had felt for any other man she had made love to. 

 

“Christ, Priya,” she murmured to herself.  “Snap out of it.  You can’t be falling in love with this guy.  You’re far too selfish, and beside you haven’t known him for more than a few hours.”

 

Fully awake now, her mind turned to her predicament.  How was she going to make a return to Central City and deal with Meyers?  Her capture and abduction had been recorded on live TV.  It was going to be rather difficult to twist that to her advantage.  Also the thugs who had beaten and raped her had all been arrested.  No doubt the story of her degradation was all over the jail by now.  She doubted that anyone who fucked a superheroine would keep it secret for long. 

 

Sadly, no matter how hard she thought about it, she just couldn’t think of anyway of dealing with what had happened to her.  “I’ve been screwed, blued, and tattooed,” she muttered.  “I’m just going to have to face the music.”

 

She sat up as she completed the last thought.  It was time to go home, but first she might as well find out what the world thought of her. 

 

Bruce stirred and awoke.  Bleary eyed he looked at her and then gave her a wide grin.  “You’re so damned beautiful,” he said.  “I can’t believe you slept with me.”

 

“It was my pleasure, believe me,” Priya replied.  “But there is something more I would like you to do for me.”

 

“Anything,” Bruce grinned. 

 

“I want you to take me to this address, but on the way there could we stop by a convenience store?  I would like you to pick up a few newspapers for me.”

 

“Be glad to,” Bruce said.  “But you’re sure you’re alright?  You had quite a workout yesterday.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Priya laughed.  She wrapped the blanket around her and climbed into the passenger seat.  In a few seconds Brad joined her and the van rolled off.

 

The drive didn’t take long.  It turned out that the beach was only about an hour’s drive from the city.  Bruce turned into the parking lot of the first convenience store he spotted and dashed inside.

 

Priya fidgeted while she waited.  Bruce was taking a little longer than she thought he would, however, he returned a few seconds later and she saw what had taken him the extra time. 

 

“Picked up something for you to wear,” he said handing her a T-shirt and a pair of shorts.  “Not much, but they didn’t have much else.  I hope it fits.”

 

“I’ll make them fit,” Priya said.  “Thank you very much.  You’re much more than I expected.”

 

“Glad to be of service, miss….?”

 

Priya hesitated.  How much did she trust this stranger?  Sure, she had let him fuck her, but she really knew nothing about him. 

 

“What the hell,” she sighed.  “What else have I got to lose?”  She turned and faced him squarely.  “I’m Victorygirl.  As you have seen I have had a bit of bad luck.  I need to protect my secret identity so I can’t tell you my real name, but you can really help me by dropping me off where I ask.  If you give me your phone number I promise I’ll contact you at the very first opportunity.” 

 

She saw Bruce’s eyes widen at the revelation.  “So that explains how you recovered so fast,” he said.  “Of course I’ll help you.”  He looked at her with a stare that could only be one of wonder.

 

Priya could guess what else was going through his mind.  He had fucked a superheroine.  It wasn’t every surf bum that could make that boast.  However, she didn’t regret a second of it.  The memory of that huge prick inside her had her getting wet even now.  However, first things first.  How had her crushing defeat affected her image?  She picked up the first paper Bruce had brought her.

 

Her eyes widened when she saw the headlines.  Of all the things she had expected this was not one of them. 

 

Heroic Heroine Saves Hostages

              

She read further, her eyes widening still further as she read parts of the article out loud.  “Incredible display of self-sacrifice…unprecedented heroism… inspiration to the youth of the nation.”

 

“Shit,” she thought.  “I’m a national hero and all I did was get myself captured and fucked.”  She picked up another paper and then another.  They were all the same.  Every one painted her as a noble heroine who had willingly surrendered to a bunch of brutal thugs in order to save the lives of others.

 

“Well,” she thought,  “it was my intention to save the hostages.  “I just didn’t expect to do it the way it happened.  She couldn’t help the huge smile that spread over her face. 

 

“Good news?” Bruce asked. 

 

“The best,” Priya answered.  This changed everything.  She wouldn’t have to go slinking around trying to repair the damage to her image.   She looked at her rescuer.  “Umm, you wouldn’t have any objection if I blindfolded you would you?  I have something I want you to see, but its secret.”

 

“Err,” Bruce hesitated.  “I guess not.  You are a superheroine after all.  I guess you can be trusted. 

 

“Oh there’s no doubt of that,” Priya answered.  “Just take me to this address.”

 

“Right,” Brad grinned.  He put the van in gear.

 

 

Priya stepped out of her marble tiled bathroom.  A shower and a good scrubbing had her feeling marvellously refreshed.  She had also taken the slightest dose of the superheroine drug.  It would help to give her stamina.  She needed something to help her keep up with Bruce.

 

She had decided to leave the matter of Meyers until later.  There really wasn’t much she could do to the Police Chief, but she would never forget what he had done.  Sooner or later she would get even.  In the meantime, her career was intact, and Meyers was no doubt fuming at the fact that she had emerged as an even bigger heroine than before.  Even the rumours circulating about her subjugation and gang rape at the hands of the bank robbers hadn’t hurt her.  Instead they had created a wave of sympathy that enhanced her stature even more. 

 

Bruce was waiting for her in the sitting room.  Her rescuer lounged in one of the comfortable leather chairs scattered about the room, a glass of Germany’s finest beer in his hand.  He was looking around the room in wonder, taking in the expensive furnishings.  Priya had not had time to replace her costume, but she had found something just a good.  It was a Vampirella costume she had worn to her last Halloween party.  It was a bit less revealing than her Victorygirl outfit, but it would do.

 

Her rescuer looked toward her, his eyes drinking in her perfect figure.  He licked his lips suggestively.  There was little doubt what he was thinking. 

 

Priya arched her back slightly.  With the drug in her, she was positively glowing, exuding an air of confidence and sexuality that was overwhelming.  The bulge in Bruce’s pants showed that he had fully received the intended message.

 

Priya held up a set of padded leather cuffs for her wrists and ankles.  “Now,” she smiled, “have you ever played ‘Capture the Heroine?’”

---

WIZARD'S LAIR MAIN PAGE   L'ESPION'S STORY PAGE