by
marat
Chapter
Two
Wearing civilian clothes, Officer
Bruce Sealing stood in the shadows around the edges of the ballroom, a short
distance behind a small congregation of Fareed Gouyannous men and their
ladies. The men, as Gouyannou required, were richly attired, wearing the
latest fashions in the latest style, and, as was also expected, much in the
way of gold (and faux gold) accoutrements. The dress of the ladies, hired
for the occasion, was much more varied. Leather hot pants and micro minis
were common, but many were attired as fashionably as their escorts.
As the heroine was thrown to
the floor, Sealing felt a surge of excitement through his body. Too often
he had been underestimated, even by his friends; but this time, this
time, he would have the upper hand against those who were smarter than
he was, or who thought they were better than he was, and he would earnno,
he had already earnedthe gratitude of very powerful people. Westbrook
and Paladine had wanted to limit the take from the tapes of Crimson Flares
torture and defeat. Hell, Westbrook hadnt even watched the entire event,
preferring to fast-forward through the conquest of Crimson Flare to see if
what he had found was merely a collection of copies.
But Sealing had watched all of
his tape. And there was plenty there. Plenty for the tabloids, Fox
News, even Entertainment Tonight. And there was stuff for Mitropoulos
underworld, too. Information he had passed onat a priceto Fareed
Gouyannou to allow the drug kingpin to overpower and capture Americas
Darling, information that had brought her to her current
state.
OOOOOOooooohhhhhhh!!
Crimson Flare lay on her back, her bound wrists and ankles preventing
her from getting to her feet and facing her attackers. Her chest rose and
fell as she tried to catch her breath. The masked crimefighters face
took on a determination behind her mask and she turned her shoulders to try
to get onto her stomach. The vision of her flawless thighs and hips captured
the gaze of all who were there, including the Judas who watched more with
rage in his eyes than lust. Many of the men in the crowd smiled as the helpless
heroine ever so slowly twisted her body so that she was now face toward the
floor, resting on her elbows. She pulled her knees up under her, raising
her hips. The womens eyes shot wide as they saw the Champion of Women
struggle to stand, her bound ankles hindering her, the powerless heroine
helpless in the hands of these men. Many of these hired ladies felt fear
grip their insides for this girl who seemed to offer so much promise, a promise
of respect forwell, if not for them, then certainly for their
daughters.
Get her! Get her
now! Bruce Sealing thought to himself. He would get his opportunity
to manhandle the superslut, just as he had long said he could; his new friends
had already promised him that. And his new friends had already paid him well
for the information that had led to her capture.
One especially large man, dressed
in leather and holding a four-foot length of steel pipe, reached down and
roughly grabbed the back of the heroines costume. James Jan
Leathers had encountered Crimson Flare some weeks earlier, while he had worked
for Ape. At that time, she had infiltrated this same mansion in her successful
raid to destroy Ape Greystooks drug buy. Leathers had been
injuredand his best friend Hagood had received injuries to which he
eventually succumbedat the hands of the powerful avenger. He had a
score to settle with her.
As Leathers lifted the
fragile-looking young woman from the floor, her bound arms and legs weakly
flailed about. She swung them ineffectually in an effort to free herself
from Leathers grip. Lifted from the floor by the huge man, she looked
even smaller than she actually was.
He held her a few inches above
the bare wooden boards, and some of the thugs in the crowd giggled as the
trapped heroine stretched her black leather boots downward toward the floor
as part of an effort toto what? Escape? Surrounded by her enemies and
stripped of her power, escape was not in the cards.
Gouyannou stood before his prisoner,
impeccably attired in a silk suit and shirt, and smiled. It is time
to release you, Crimson Flare
, he said.
On hearing this, the crowd in
the room fell into a stunned silence. Did he really mean to free Crimson
Flare? Leathers stared at him fiercely.
from your pain,
he concluded, a smile washing across his face.
He turned toward his follower
who was toting the small black leather case. If you please, Doctor,
he said quietly.
Her bound wrists had stolen her
strength, and Crimson Flare sought desperately to saw through those ropes
that weakened her with her claw. But there wasnt enough time. Already,
Leathers had wrapped one massive arm around her, pinning her left arm to
her torso. With his hand, he reached between the heroines right arm
and her chest, pushing that extremity away from her body. With his free arm,
he took hold of the crimson glove that covered her right arm to the elbow
and pulled it toward her wrist, bunching the satin against the enervating
loops of rope.
The track marks were still visible,
just barely.
The audience nearest the sight
audibly gasped at the evidence of the masked avengers earlier trial
at the hands of the Normans.
Oh, dear god. Oh, no!
a beautiful woman, dressed in a very brief, very red miniskirt, said, clearly
distraught.
Doctor Callahan, if you
please, Gouyannou said.
The redheaded man with close-cropped
hair withdrew a hypodermic needle from the case. Holding it vertically, he
removed the plastic cover which protected the stubby needle. Then he flicked
the side of the syringe with his index finger and noticed as tiny air bubbles
rose to the top of the solution encased therein. Pressing the plunger, he
expelled them easily. The faintest whiff of alcohol seemed to taint the
air.
The doctor then turned toward
his charge. Even through her dizziness and pain, Crimson Flare understood
the danger of her current situation. She pressed against Leathers body
in a desperateand vainattempt to get herself out of the
doctors reach. When another of Gouyannous henchmen grabbed her
arm to hold it still, Crimson Flares resolve
shattered.
Please, she stammered.
P-pl-please, please, dont do this to
me.
The mistake the Normans
made was in making you dependent on drugs only in a weakened state,
the drug kingpin told her, speaking calmly and evenly. What Doctor
Callahan has developed will lead to an addiction even when your wrists are
freed. And when that happens, you will become my most secure
supplier.
Youll be able to
get drugs for me from any source, even the police headquarters drug
locker.
Although Crimson Flare continued
to resist, squirming in the grip now of two men, weakened by the rope around
her wrists, the doctor had no difficulty tightening the wrap around her upper
arm and finding the vein.
No
please,
Crimson Flare pleaded. Please, no.
Dont.
Warmth washed over her body.
Warmth and relaxation. Within a matter of only a few minutes, her eyes glazed
and stared straight ahead, unfocused. Her protests were reduced to incoherent
mumbles.
No. N-n-nnnoo,
d-don
.
*****
Bruce Sealing watched as Crimson
Flare slowly fell limp into the arms of Gouyannous men. Knowing that
he had risen suddenly in the estimation of the drug lord, thanks to the
information his had passed on to Gouyannouinformation gleaned from
simply watching the single tape he had been given by his partnershe
wondered what information might be contained on the other videos. If he could
secure those other tapes from Westbrook and Paladine, who knows what he might
be able to provide his new patron? He needed to get that information. Could
he wrangle the means from Gouyannou without giving his new boss access to
the source, a source which in itself might be lucrative to
him?
Sealings attention was
suddenly drawn to the beautiful captive, whose torment he had anticipated
so ecstatically.
Crimson Flare was struggling
to hold her head up, her eyes behind her shiny black mask becoming unfocused,
the lids drooping. The heroines words, at first only slurred, became
increasingly unintelligible. Her bound wrists dropped into her lap; her legs,
bound at the ankles, no longer supported her weight and her glittering form
fell back against the huge men who had restrained her.
The police officer smiled, as
did most of the men in the ballroom, as the Champion of Women slowly crumpled
to the floor. Crimson Flare lay on her side, knees bent with her gloved hands
lying under her hips. Her body only made small, writhing movements as the
comforting warmth of the aphrodisiac flowed through her and across her
sensibility. Her shiny black leather boots, bound tightly at the ankles by
what seemed to be luminous white ropes, made a soft shuffling sound as they
moved slowly in tandem, up and down along the wooden planks of the ballroom
floor; the prisoner drew her legs toward her chest and then pressed them
downward and away. She did this time and time again.The heroines colourless
tights gave off a brilliant sheen in the ballrooms illumination, a
lustre that, as her legs moved and curled, itself also moved, accentuating
the round musculature of her thighs. The sequins on her crimson costume reflected
that light also, the familiar uniforms dramatic tautness across her
hips serving to underscore the sensual nature of her movements. Though the
movement was only small, the curvature of that flawless erotic posterior
was heightened by the lustre of the glistening reflectors that clung to
Americas Darling like a second skin.
Indeed, both the males and the
females in the audience were attracted by the close-fitting costume that
encased the near-unconscious girl. The men seemed to be pulled toward her,
unconsciously seeking to remove this final protection from this delicate,
apparently fragile, apparently helpless, girl. The women, on the other hand,
were repelled, fearful that once this final line of protection for the Champion
of Women had been breached, her vulnerability would be evident to
all.
Weakly, Crimson Flare gave voice
to the demons that now filled her mind, demons born of Dr. Callahans
special mixture. OOOoooooooooohhhhhhhh, StaSta! cy!!
The final utterance was barely audible.
Fareed Gouyannou walked the ballroom
floor between where his prisoner now lay and his audience. The man
who has made tonights entertainment possiblethe newest member
of my inner circlewhose information led to the capture of Crimson Flare,
has informed me that a special combination of stimulation is all that is
needful to bring this vigilante under our complete control. This combination
of elements will bring her under our complete
control.
Officer Bruce Sealing stepped
back into the shadows as he smiled. There was no need to create unnecessary
enemies at the moment of his triumph. He would allow Mr. Gouyannou to be
the center of attention.
Jan, Gouyannou ordered,
if you would, please, uh
stimulate
her.
As if responding to the unspoken
wish of all of the men in the hall, Leathers reached behind the inert figure
resting at his feet, feeling for the costumes clasp at the back of
her neck. Releasing the hook, he then gripped the metal tongue of the zipper
and slowly opened the glittering costume. As he did so, the brilliant uniform
ballooned slightly across the torso of the defeated champion. When he had
opened the back of the familiar garb completely, Leathers tugged at the
costumes front, just below the chin of the unresisting figure below
him.
Finally, the small perfectly
round mounds of Crimson Flares breasts peeked over the glittering top.
There was a collective withering of spirit among the women packed into the
room, as if this exposure of Crimson Flare was symbolic of a more general
victory over them. Tears formed in the eyes of more than a few who gazed
on the defeated figure. A few others tried to escape by slowly backing toward
the exit, no longer able to endure the humiliation of the Maiden of Mitropoulos.
However, most of the women stood by and watched stoically. The defeat of
Crimson Flare had established their place in this room.
For the men who watched, the sight of Crimson Flares tits was enough
to allow them to give voice to their triumph. A low growl swelled across
the room, a sound that magnified as the costume was pulled down farther.
As the hapless avenger lay, barely conscious, they watched as her chest rose
and fell rhythmically; the two perfectly formed mounds topped by the pale
pink nodules transfixed the collective gaze of her enemies who were gathered
to watch her destruction. And they vented their
appreciation.
Fuck her, Jan! one
voice said loudly.
Yeah, fuck her! other
voices followed. Fuck her! Fuck her!! Fuck
her!!! Each time the cry was louder until the intermingling
of voices became just one undifferentiated roar, urging Leathers to do his
worst with the prisoner.
Settling next to the captive,
Leathers listened to the voices urging him to act; at the same time, he stared
at the heroines movement, her hips sliding slowly, up and down, as
if encouraging someone who had just entered her to enjoy the fantasy that
had begun to grip her.
Fuck her, Leathers!
the voices continued to urge him. But he knew what Gouyannou wanted. And
Gouyannou was his boss.
Gently, but without any apprehension,
he allowed his right hand to float above her right
breast. And ever so gradually,
his middle finger extended downward until the nail, worn long by any male
standard, gingerly poked the pink aureole now standing rigidly upright in
the middle of that delicious mound.
AhAagghhaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! she whispered,
breathily.
Already she is
receptive, Fareed Gouyannou said softly, mostly to himself. The shouting
was replaced by a murmur which gradually filled the room.
Another of the female
guests departed, unable to stand the sight of what she was sure
to follow.
As his nail, barely touching
the pink, perfectly round aureole, brushed against the sensitive receptor,
Crimson Flares legs straightened, quivering visibly in an exultation
that had now taken over her mind and body. Crimson Flares breathing
quickened audibly, great gulps of air drunk greedily as Leathers and Gouyannou
watched with anticipation.
Leathers reached his left hand
toward the other breast. Both mounds were now streaked with sweat. Cupping
it gently, with his little, ring, and middle fingers, he lightly lifted the
firm mammary, allowing it to slide easily toward his palm as he twisted his
wrist in order to receive the firm prize. As it rolled into place, with his
thumb and index fingers, he pinched the hardening nipple.
NNnnnnnnnnnggghhhlll!
NNnnnnnnnnnggghhhlll!
The helpless girl
felt desire rise in her and she pressed her hips down hard onto an imaginary
lover, seeking fulfillment.
Watch as she seeks to satisfy
her lust, Gouyannou said slowly. Watch as the super-slut gives
vent to her desire.
Rubbing the hardening nipple
between his thumb and forefinger, Leathers was surprised with the speed with
which it stiffened. The pink tissue jutting heavenward felt as hard as a
marble in his grasp. When he looked down at the masked heroines face,
he saw sweat streaming from her forehead, rolling across her gleaming black
mask, and down onto her neck and shoulders.
All in a matter of
moments.
What had Gouyannou learned about
this fearsome opponent that had brought her down so
quickly?
*****
Bruce Sealing watched as the
information he had gathered from his video was put to use in defeating and
then humiliating Crimson Flare. The criminals who had earlier captured
Mitropoulos Champion had placed on the tape, which had been taken by
Tim Westbrook from the Conservatory, the close association of capture, drugs,
and sex in the heroines mind.
He didnt understand all
of it, but evidently the red-headed girl who tortured the Maid of Mitropoulos
did. There was some gangbanger named Chan who had started the ball rolling,
months ago. He had determined that Crimson Flare was a virgin, and somehow
this status was tied to her strength. If she could be forced to cum, Chan
and the redhead had concluded, it would have an effect on her strength; maybe
it would destroy it. It was a possible way to eliminate this troublesome
meddler and restore the gangland balance to Mitropoulos.
They had used a drug cocktail
to bring Crimson Flare to her knees and under their control; they had given
her a habit, made her dependent. And while she was in that state, she had
had innumerable sexual escapades with the Normans, as part of her need and
desire to get more drugs. That accounted for the track marks on her
arms.
But
something
GGGoooooooooooddddd!! Oh, god,
please!!
Her shout was both a consummation
and, at the same time, filled with fear. Its raw emotion frightened many
who heard it, but to Sealing it was only more evidence of how correct his
information was. He watched as the heroine pressed her body toward Leathers,
struggling to nuzzle her jaw against the inside of his thigh, trying to press
her mouth between his legs.
The erstwhile policeman returned
to his effort to organise his thinking and his future in Mitropoulos
gang world.
But something had gone wrong
with their plan. Instead of destroying Crimson Flares strength, the
orgasm had made her stronger. And this had somehow allowed her to defeat
the Normans and escape.
That was when Chan had betrayed
the redhead. He had abandoned his relationship with her and taken up with
Crimson Flare. And Chan had been killed. Sealing suspected the redhead was
behind it, but there was no way to prove that.
What followed is unclear. In
part, it was because the tape ended before everything could be spelled out.
That was why the policeman wanted to get the other tapes, the tapes that
his late partners had had. The rest of the story could get him even bigger
rewards. He had to find where Westbrook and Paladine had hid
them.
What he did know was that Crimson
Flares dependence on drugs was overcome when she was restored to full
strength. When her wrists were bound, she was susceptible to their domination.
And the drugs were associated, in the mind of this Champion of Women, with
sexual pleasure and gratification.
The evidence for that was there
for anyone to see. Even from his distant vantage point, he saw the now-half-naked
body of Crimson Flare twisting on the floor, trying to turn her body into
Leathers, desperately trying to find some kind of release for the tension
that had gripped her. Her legs were stretched along the floor, her bound
ankles pushing, weakly it seemed, her torso, angled upward into the lap of
the muscular Leathers. Her hips also rested on the polished wooden planks;
but her body twisted toward the big man so that her exposed chest was only
partly visible to the audience watching in stunned silence. Only her bare
back could be seen clearly.
She had finally pressed her face
now all the way to his crotch, and Sealing could tell from the expressions
crossing Leathers face that she was alternately biting and attempting
to kiss his covered sex organs. There were even moments when the bliss that
became evident reflected the hummer she applied to his enlarged
prick.
Everyone else knew it,
too.
*****
Jan Leathers was
living a dream. With his left hand, he played with Crimson Flares breast,
his thumb flicking a nipple that had hardened even as he amused himself with
it. His right had by now moved from her right breast to beneath her lowered
costume, beneath even the colourless tights that shimmered across her exposed
legs, his fingers searching through the short curly pubic hair for her sex.
Even before he found it, the amount of moisture covering the heroines
muff was indisputable.
Already she was lubricating.
Already she was ready to be entered. Gouyannou had promised that he would
be given the opportunity to have this girl. His tingling organ told him that
that opportunity would have to come soon.
When his hand finally made it
to her already-receptive vagina, he could tell that her clit had flowered,
welcoming his searching fingers. He gently tapped it with two fingers, eliciting
a soft moan from the now-helpless avenger. Her body slumped weakly against
his, her strength now completely gone, her face now staring vacantly up at
him from behind the shiny black mask, sweet-smelling sweat pouring down the
sides of her face from beneath the close-fitting black cowl. Her dry ruby
red lips were pursed, quivering, lying slightly open as she breathed deeply.
Behind the mask, her deep green eyes were unfocused, tears welling up in
them as she responded to the urges that filled her slowly twisting form.
She looked as though she were about to burst out sobbing.
Her neck and the back of her
head rested against his abdomen, her bare shoulders filling the space between
his spread legs as he squatted to support the Champion. She lay, utterly
helpless, totally in his power. With her wrists bound, she moved her arms
only minimally, but what movement there was brought the satin gloves across
his own right hand, buried by her costume and tights. Deep beneath the costume,
Jans fingers were still gently tapping, almost absently, at the rosebud
that only he knew was present. When her unconscious mind realised that this
small motion on her part served to press his fingers against and more deeply
into her sex, and that this touch seemed to encourage him to probe deeper
into her, Crimson Flare, symbol of womanly virtue, pressed her bound wrists
against that hand with greater force.
Her exposed body was soaked with
her sweat. It created a sheen that covered her small breasts. The rising
and falling of her chest allowed those perfect mounds to almost glisten in
the light from the chandeliers suspended from the ballroom ceiling. In her
dazed, confused mind, she saw herself finding him, bringing her lips against
his penis, and then stimulating him so that he would rape her. She wanted
to do all these things; she even saw herself accomplishing them. But in this
room, she was just too weak to do more than merely pressed her bound, gloved
wrists against his enshrouded hand.
As Leathers pressed his finger
into the beaten girls vagina, he could feel her honey fairly gush forth,
pouring over his hand with the sweet-smelling nectar. At that moment, her
body convulsed, gripped by an earthquake of emotion that tore at her mind
and shook her body. She voiced a cry of such pure sexual desire that not
a single man who heard her was unaffected. Officer Bruce Sealing watched,
transfixed like all the others present, as the Maid of Mitropoulos, the
citys protector and avenger, embraced the basest elements of her nature.
He watched and reveled in the moment.
Uh! Uuhh!
UUUuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhh!!
The masked beauty stiffened, stretching her body to her full five feet four
inches from Leathers lap across the floor of the ballroom. After a
brief pause, her desire again filled the room. Barely conscious, she lay
almost completely still, but her tone was filled with an evident sexual
exaltation. OOOhhhhhh! OOOOoooooooogggggghhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmm!!
MMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmnnnnnnngggggllllhhhhhhh!!
As his finger probed the
heroines insides, Leathers recognised the smoothness that was a product
of her lubrication. He could tell she was ready to be entered, and he knew
that Gouyannou had promised him that he would be given that opportunity in
front of this audience. How many more would follow? Only time would
tell.
Although she could do so only
weakly, Crimson Flare pressed her thighs together, trapping his hand at her
entrance and his finger within her. The jolt of pressure, and the attendant
pleasure, that the man had brought inside of her led her to swallow with
difficulty, almost painfully, and she breathed shallowly, with the same
difficulty. And then the hapless heroine pressed her hips downward onto his
hand, pushing him deeper, deeper inside. Americas Darling inhaled deeply,
and Leathers watched as those perfect mounds, topped by the rock-hard nibs,
lifted with her chest.
Bruce Sealing watched, too, smiling
at the destruction of Crimson Flare.
A brief moan, this time small
and weak, elicited from between her slightly open lips, a moan which only
Leathers heard, but which was so filled with pent-up sexuality, and so helpless,
that he felt his prick tingle and erupt to full size in a moment. He almost
came in those mere seconds. Fareed Gouyannou would have to give him the prisoner
soon, or the opportunity would be lost.
Gouyannou walked toward Leathers
and his charge. The squat, stout mans bearded face was very serious.
Dr. Callahans first injection was an aphrodisiac whose strength
would overcome and dominate our
heroines
here he
smiled a little,
sensibilities, he concluded. It
would serve to allow us to contain her great strength while we brought her
under our control. The second part of this process is, shall we say, a little
more, uh, pleasurable, for all who will be involved. He turned
to face his hireling. Mr. Leathers, would you remove Crimson Flares
bonds?
The powerful thug was surprised
by the order, but he had no alternative than to obey.
Now, Doctor, would you
prepare your second dosage? Fareed announced to the assembly. This
little gift is heroin-basedheroin for the heroine, he chuckled,
and a small laugh rolled through the crowd. It will be strong enough
to overcome even her immense strength, particularly as she will be,
uh, he paused for a moment, otherwise occupied
while the immediately subsequent doses are introduced. The drug will take
over her body and create the craving for more. More of everything. More of
the drug. And more of the sex. He was smiling broadly now as
he gazed down at the helpless prisoner.
Yes. Crimson Flare will
be hooked on this drug habit. And she will be insatiable in her demand for
sex to pay for it.
End of Chapter
Two
Comments, questions, suggestions welcome:
contact the author at
marat1793@comcast.net