Crimson Flare: Apes Grab for Power
The heroine felt the tumult race through her groin.
Nancy watched as Crimson Flare raised and lowered her hips, again and again, trying to drive an imaginary prick ever deeper into her screaming sex. The redhead smiled as she reached out and placed her fingers against the enlarged clit, and began lightly striking at the hypersensitive organ.
OOOoooohhhhhaaaaaagggggghhhhh! Americas Darling cried out as the fantasy reached home.
The girl in denim used the fingers of her left hand to pull the taut spandex of the avengers costume away from her body. She reached the fingers of her right hand underneath, where she found the dampness had actually soaked through the nylon tights that covered her still-quivering sex. At the slightest touch of the redheads fingers, the masked heroines torso leapt upward; the lightest scratch was magnified by her imaginings to be a monstrous probe pressing into her most private area.
As Nancy gazed into the eyes that stared blankly out from behind the black mask, she saw tears forming as the heroines breathing caught again and again. Crimson Flare sobbed heavily as the sensuality gushed again from her, unabashed and unabated.
Crimson Flare quivered with a demonic ecstasy. This was her fullest fantasy. Bound, powerless, helpless, unable to use her great strength to defend herself, yet still very conscious of that great strength; the heroine flexed her muscles and filled her lungsshe felt her strength as her costume tightened against the curvature of her petite form: she felt the spandex as it played against her body. She looked down and saw the glittering uniform in the bright lights of the room; she saw it for the first time as criminals didtightly clinging to her body, showing off every crevice, every detail, from the nodules that capped her round breasts to the small but defined cleft at her groin, showing off the feminine features that she had used to her advantage throughout her crimefighting career. She felt the tactile stimulation of the costume against her skin: the tight-fitting spandex hugged her torso, cupping her breasts, pressing tightly against her flesh from her collar to her groin; she was aware of the coolness of the synthetic fabric as it highlighted her body; the shimmering nylon of her tights, holding her shapely legs in a luminescent grip, showing off both their muscularity and their round softness; even the shiny warmth of her black leather boots. Everything that made her Crimson Flare was exulted in her imagination as it was magnified by her very helplessness against the woman standing over her. The defenseless heroine could feel the tingling inside her as helplessness played its role in her sexual excitement.
Ooohh, dear god. The beautiful masked maiden was breathing heavily. Sweat ran in rivulets from her face and neck. She could still feel the fullness in her groin that indicated that her sexual fever had not yet run its course. She plunged, insofar as she could within the limits imposed by the ropes around her, seeking yet again that imaginary prick that would satisfy her. Slowly, rhythmically, she circled her hips on that illusory probe; she felt it growing within her, reaching out toward her fullest fruit. Then she thrust herself upon the dreamed penis again, hoping that its length would satisfy the lust that was consuming her. She stiffened her back, seeking to press herself against this fantasy.
But no imagined act, no desire, could provide the fulfillment she sought. She sighed deeply, the emptiness of her masturbatory reverie evident in the groan.
Nancys hand again raised the Champions expectations. As the redheads fingers played over her enlarged organs, both on top of and beneath the tight, glittering costume, Crimson Flare sought a final release from the dream that had seized her.
NNnnnngguhh! NNnnnngguhh! NNnnnngguhh! With each stroke, the perspiring Champion of Mitropoulos drove herself upward in a spiral of bliss, only to be frustrated by a failure to reach fulfillment.
Nancy furthered this spiral by playing her lips across the face of the avenger, kissing and licking her. Her expert tongue played across the red lips of the heroine, sensing the cracked dryness arising from Crimsons rapture. Nancy drew the lips into her own mouth, nibbling them lightly, first the lower lip, then the upper. She enjoyed torturing the heroine. It appeared to Nancy thatwhoever she wasshe was relatively inexperienced sexually. This allowed the redhead an opportunity to exploit the willingness of her victim to surrender much for very little.
Nancy stood up. She watched Crimson Flare continue to gyrate on the table in front of her. The avengers body, though petite, was admirable, and its muscularity and suppleness made it enticing as it writhed sensually up and down and in a circular motion in front of her. The girl in denim took up a small, sharp knife and placed her free hand over the crimson-and-gold sequins of the masked avengers groin. Nancy leaned forward and whispered in the heroines ear, trying to soothe her, to slow her motion and reduce her emotion. The redhead gently patted her victims pubis, speaking soft, calming words. Poor baby, she whispered, so much desire, and no one to care for you. She guessed that the heroine was unattached, probably because she was fearful of sharing her secret with others. Trust me, Darling, you can trust me. She kissed her lightly on the temple.
As the heroine relaxed and her movement slowed, Nancy tenderly pulled the uniform aside and reached the knife toward the shiny colourless tights that were revealed. The sharp tip sliced neatly through the nylon fibres, but Nancys expert technique spared what lay beneath. Once a small cut had been made, the tall redhead put the knife aside and put her index finger into the hole she had made.
The tearing of the nylon echoed in the small room. And the intrusion of Nancys finger into the ready sex reawakened the recently quieted sensuality tingling there. Her index finger moved down the entire length of her quivering, sopping vagina and the moan that emerged as soon as those skilled fingers pressed against the captive girl told Nancy that the heroines repressed sexuality was coming to the surface.
Ooooohh, ggggo-oddd! OOOHH, GGOOODDD!
Lynn set aside all the notes she had taken on the police band events of the evening. When Crimson Flare returned, she thought to herself, there would be a full record of how much the heroine was neededneededby the Mitropoulos police. How many people could say they were actually needed?
But she was concerned about all of those calls. One after another, the police calls had told the story: They were being overwhelmed by the rash of burglaries, break-ins, holdups, and other crimes. One after another they had called for reinforcements and pleaded with control to find Crimson Flare.
What if Apeor any other criminalhad heard those calls? He would know that Crimson Flare was not in those areas of Mitropoulos under attack. And sometimes, knowing where your enemy was not was a very important piece of information. She decided that she must communicate these musings to Crimson Flare, to warn her that Ape might be prepared for her investigation at his headquarters, because of the calls that had come over the air.
How she wished there were some way for the heroine to respond! But she and Karen had agreed that anything beyond the simple receiver was either a distraction or too cumbersome. And if the unit were left behind, the frequency might allow for tracking Crimson Flares headquarters.
Ape looked attentively at the small earpiece that Hagood had placed before him on the table. Faintly, he could hear a womans voice warning Crimson Flare of all of the police calls that had been sent out for her. He smiled cruelly as he recognised that the warning came too late.
Whats the frequency? he asked the other man who was in the room. Can we track that he waved his hand to indicate the voice now ending its message to its source?
The young black man wearing the leather jacket smiled as he nodded. No trouble at all, Ape.
Just then, the archway leading to the living room was filled by two more former gang members, wearing their different colours. The smaller one cleared his throat, and then spoke softly to Ape. Ape, Nancy would like you to give hera hand. A smile played around the corner of his mouth.
Ape looked up. What else did she say?
The young man looked at his boss quizzically. Then a light of recognition spread across his face. She said, Shes exactly what you like and for you to bring the kit.
Ape turned back to his technician and said, Find that voice. Then he left with room.
Nancys middle finger deftly moved in, out, and around the dark pink cleft that led to Crimson Flares dripping interior. As she passed her finger over the revealed, swollen lips, the heroine shook and moaned. She moved even more stimulation into the action, flicking the exposed clit with her index finger, then pressed the clit between her thumb and index finger. She listened to the increasing volume and length of the moans that emerged from Americas Darlings throat, as the heroine lost control. The glittering form flopped weakly on the leather pads, twisting and writhing as the rapture seized her.
Americas Darling, Nancy whispered with a chuckle. Youre nothing more than Americas Slut.
And when we get her on tape Nancy started at the sudden voice that came from behind her everyone will know it. Ape took a step and stood next to her, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. He was carrying a small metal box in his other hand.
Perspiration matted Crimson Flares hair to the sides of her head as well as to her black mask. The sexual excitement she had maintained for what seemed to be an hour, but was actually only about half that, was now intensified by the bright lights that stood in the room. The three lights formed a triangle before the Champion, so that no shadow obscured any part of her front. She was still tied in the same position as she had been, but the pads she lay on had been angled so that her full body was exposed to the cameras lenses. Three video cameras had been set up, and their unblinking eyes gazed at the helpless young woman: one with a close-up on her face (Ape wanted a real good shot of her face when her mask came off, he said); one on a tripod in front of her, fixed to give a shot of the heroine from her head to about mid-thigh (Ape said this was the master shot and would show every movement of her body during the sexual torture he anticipated; Crimson Flares hips and thighs, Ape said, were what every guy wanted to see: this would give a perfectly unobstructed and uninterrupted view of their movements); and the third was below her, focused on her sexual areas, now revealed by Apes tearing away of the crimson and gold costume.
Ape walked from one camera to the next checking the focus and angle. In the first, he watched as her masked face swung slowly from side to side, her tongue vainly trying to moisten her dry cracked lips. Crimson Flares cheekbones crossed back and forth through the little focus circle in the center of the recording image and even when she tossed her head she remained fully within the frame. Her eyes revealed only a returning recognition of what was going on around her. Her cracking voice whispered, N-no-oo. Sto-opp.
As Ape moved to the second camera, he spoke to the powerless champion. Not a chance, Crimson Slut. After what you did to me tonight, you owe me big time. And Im going to make you pay. Youre going to pay and youre going to pay off. This video will probably be a huge best seller. How many guys do you think get their rocks off on Americas Darling when he spoke her name the contempt in his voice was dripping just from pictures in the newspaper? Waitll they get a load of what you can do when youre really hot! I wont be able to produce enough of them. Through the second camera, Ape watched her body move up and down, as she tried to remember the fantasy prick that had thrilled her only a short while ago.
Yeah, youre going to be a star, Ape laughed.
Ape checked the focus and angle of the third camera. The image was so sharp, he could even see the glistening residue of her vaginal honey clinging to the hair that peered out from beneath her costume. As he stood up, he removed the black leather belt that supported the baton in its holster at her side. As he glanced at Crimson Flares baton, he pulled it from the leather pocket and felt its lightness in the palm of his hand. As he gripped it, he imagined to what uses this weapon might be put.
Lynn was worried. If everything had gone well at the MacLeod-Slaughter mansion, Crimson Flares night should already be over. She should be back by this time. But if the heroine had merely been delayed by something minor, she didnt want to hover like a nagging mother.
She turned to her workstation and hacked her way into the police computer, something that Stacys program made very easy. She typed in inquiries about the mansion, whether anything had occurred there tonight, or whether there was any significant activity in the neighbourhood. Everything came back negative: there wasnt even any indication that the mansion was currently occupied. No lights, no traffic, no evidence of anyone there: suddenly the theme to Gilligans Island flashed through her mind. (No lights, no phone, no motorcars/Not a single luxury. /Like Robinson Crusoe/Its as primitive as can be.) But she knew it wasnt funny.
She was convinced something had happened to Crimson Flare. Something disastrous.
She left the police computer and went onto CRIMENET, the criminal worlds internet. Again, it was only thanks to Stacys program that she even had access to this engine. It was one of the most closely protected systems in the world, even more tightly guarded than the Pentagon and the CIA.
Lynn pursued the line of inquiry about Apes drug deal and discovered that the destruction of the product was already posted. The criminal world was always very much up-to-the-minute when it came to activities that might affect prices or the status of criminals-on-the-make. Already, word had even got out that Ape was looking for money to make up his losses. Unlike the real-world Internet, CRIMENETs information was rarely treated as obsolete.
So Crimson had been successful! But where was she?
Lynn paused over that question. She looked into reports on Ape Greystooks drug deal. Was there a description of what had happened? Where were the drugs? Why had the deal gone bad?
When she found the answers to these questions, fear for her friend swept over her anew. As she connected to more and more links, pushing the story forward, she felt an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. Crimson had been captured: that was in the story. Ape intended to exact his price for her interference: that was between the lines.
But how to help her?
Crimson Flare fought through the heightened sensuality that she felt throughout her body. The heroine shuddered as she tried to push away the imagined organ that had spiraled her heavenward and had sapped her resistance. She sensed for her bound wrists and recognised that they had been re-bound sometime during her ordeal, that the ropes that took away her strength, were now wrapped around her wrists at a point flat against her hands, within mere centimeters of where the claw could be made effective. She felt her leg muscles quiver uncontrollably, restrained by the ropes that secured her booted ankles to the posts at the base of the slab on which she rested and by the loops that still circled her thighs and waist, securing her to the padded table that was becoming so familiar. She knew that, in this condition, she would have to focus her concentration on her bound wrists. Once they were freed, her returning strength, as always, would allow her to deal with her enemies. Desperately focusing her attention on twisting her wrists and pulling her arms toward her, she felt the ropes, ever so slowly, begin to creep past the upper edge of where the claw lay concealed.
But, in doing so, she released her muscle contraction and control over her still sopping wet sex, still alive and tingling, remembering the delicate and skilled touch of the redhead who was only a few feet away, talking to Ape. The battling heroine felt the residue of her juices drip down her exposed upper thighs until the tattered edge of her shiny tights caught them a few inches below. The sensation of the slowly rolling honey was immaculate, and she responded involuntarily.
Oooohhh, my goo-od!
It caught the attention of her two opponents, who turned toward her simultaneously. While Nancy smiled a small smile, Ape scowled. Why werent the video recorders catching this moment, a moment that would be lost? And where was the guy with the hand-held camera? Why wasnt he set up?
The two figures, dressed in their trademark blue denim with chain belts, approached the writhing figure slowly. Ape was still carrying the metal box that he had had when he arrived. He set it on a table out of camera range, on which was already located a few loose items: spare light bulbs, electrical connectors, wires of various lengths, and so on. He opened the box noisily, attracting the attention of the bound heroine, whose eyes drifted toward the section of the room where he stood. She could see the contents of the box when he flipped the top up, and he said to her, Its showtime, folks!
Inside, Crimson Flare saw the paraphernalia of sexual torture. Although the box was surprisingly small, like a Tardis, it seemed larger inside. The dildos and vibrators were of many colours, most of them appealing. But there were many other items that were of uncertain use, but clearly they were probes, pointed and rounded, clamps, screw-type and alligator, and gags and restraints.
Although the heroine was still distracted by the turmoil she felt raging inside her, she had the presence of mind to focus her attention on the matter of escape. Using the pretext of the sensuality that was still obviously present from her earlier torment, she shifted her full body weight from the supports, so that she was suspended by her bound wrists. The action pulled the ropes still closer to the goal of the claws edge. The action also gained Apes attention, as her body twisted sinuously. He walked, a little too quickly for Nancys taste, over to the Champion and placed his hands on the sides of her chest. He moved them slowly up and down her sides, feeling the mixture of sensations: the coolness of the spandex, covered by the glittering sequins, which stirred at the slightest touch, all of which lay over the warm body of Crimson Flare. Slowly, eventually, Ape moved his large paws to her small breasts.
When the cool smoothness of the spandex pressed down on her sensitive nipples and the perfectly round mounds, Crimson felt a renewal of the feelings she had earlier experienced. Still bound, still powerless, made the plaything of an enemy, the fantasy gripped her fully for a second time. In her mind, she knew she had to cut at her rope bonds, but the reverie gripped her so strongly that all she wanted to do was to find that feeling again, the feeling between her legs, that ran deep into her, the tendrils that looped her breasts, and the images that crashed into her unconscious, that unrolled on her mind like on a movie screen. She felt the tip of the claw seize on the rope binding her wrist, but right now she didnt care. In fact, she desired the bondage. Only the bondage gave her the sense of helplessness that was so necessary.
When Apes hands mashed down on her breasts, she cried out in exquisite pain. Her mind told her that he didnt know how to elicit the most in sexual response from a woman, but her conscious mind wasnt in control now. All she wanted was the powerlessness, the costume, and the mistreatment at his hands. When one of his hands moved from her breast to her exposed pussy, and his middle finger plunged deep inside her, she lost all control.
AAAaaaahhhh-HHHHAAAAGGGHHHH! DEE-AAARR GOO-OOOD! She came again.
When Ape brought his meaty hand in a wide arc to slap her face, she barely noticed. It was simply one more part of the fantasy world she was living in. Pain and pleasure were so mixed that one could not be separated from the other. She was a defeated superheroine, trapped and powerless.
Ape was enraged that he had lost another shot of Crimson Flare cumming. The value of his video was decreasing each time this superslut vented her honeypot. He would have to put off shooting the video until he could have more control over her. He needed to control her; he wanted to set up her sexual response, and film the result. It would be humiliating for the heroine, fulfilling (and profitable) for him, and a great jack-off for anyone watching.
Lynn drove through the wet streets toward downtown Mitropoulos. What she was going to do when she reached the MacLeod-Slaughter mansion, she wasnt sure. But Crimson Flare was in danger, she was sure of it. In the short time they had known one another, that they had been working together, Lynn had realised that Crimson Flare was more than merely a friend. Lynn hadnt been this close to anyone since she had had a best friend when she was a pre-teen, and all of their secrets had been shared during sleepovers. Even her first boyfriend, to whom she had confided everything, was never so trusted.
And now, Lynn was risking her life for her friend.
When she turned onto the Hutson River Parkway, heading for the riverside home, the blue van was almost the only vehicle on the road. As she got to the Theodore Franklin Parkway exit, leading to the row of late-19th-century estates that lined the river along the north end of Mitropoulos, she slowed the van as she realised that she didnt know what she would do once she reached the house.
The mansion was only a mile or so from the exit. She exited onto Pellatonik Road and pulled off the road just beyond the intersection. She concentrated on her breathing, trying to bring herself under control, to push back the panic that she felt rising. After a few moments, she took stock of her surroundings. It was a major intersection on the Parkway, but it was surprisingly ill lit. There was a billboard across the road where she could leave the van, facing the exit if it was necessary for her the make a quick getaway. She made a U-turn and pulled behind the advertisement. Before stepping out of the van she looked through the glove compartment for any kind of a weapon. Buried under her registration, a badly-folded map, and couple of parking tickets was a small knife. It looked like her brothers old Boy Scout knife. It was probably worse than nothing, she thought. A weapon as poor as this might give her false courage, or its mere presence could get her killed. But you never know .
Crimson Flare stumbled from the room, her hands tied behind her back. Ape had placed a black leather collar around her neck and he half-led, half-dragged the heroine from the TV room toward the staircase that led downstairs. The Champion Of Mitropoulos couldnt keep up with the pace the angry criminal set. She staggered after him, striking her left shoulder against the deteriorating brocade on the walls. Soon her legs gave out and she fell to her knees. As she did so, Ape halted mid-stride.
As he turned to look back on her, the criminal leader tugged at her leash. Come on, you super-cunt, he growled. He walked back and watched the masked figure desperately trying to fill her lungs with sustaining breaths.
She was breathing deeply through her mouth, saliva drooling down her face and spindling toward the floor. The glorious green eyes were open and the desperation the heroine felt was visible behind the black vinyl mask. The glittering costume shone brightly in the lights overhanging the foyer. As she breathed deeply, the familiar crimson-and-gold attire clung tightly to her, showing off every facet of her body. Crimson Flare fell back on her haunches, and he could see, between her legs, the torn away section of costume, revealing her wet sex, honey still clinging to the dark brown hair that was there exposed.
An evil smile came across Apes face as he looked down on the small figure. Oh, you poor thing, he said acidly. What kind of superheroine do we have here? Americas Virginal Darling, my ass. If I could have got that footage of you jacking yourself off, everybody would know what kind of slut you are. And you sure aint no virgin no more. Not from what I heard about what happened in that subway station.
He leaned down and grabbed her costume, bunching it in his fist. Who the hell do you think you are? Lording it over everybody else, like youre so perfect, he said quietly, but with clear menace. You act like every bitch with a racket Ive ever run into. You put out the picture that youre everything perfect, when really all you want is to fuck the nearest guy with a big dick. I watched you, you slut. I watched you. You were dreaming of being fucked. You want to be fucked! Well, get ready, babe. Cause youre gonna get your wish!
He pulled her to her feet with ease, and stood the masked heroine against the wall. Come along with me, sweetheart. Lets see just how much you can do. Still holding the leash, Ape now pushed Crimson Flare from behind. He watched as her tight, muscular body faltered as she moved clumsily toward the stairway. Each stride was silent, muffled by the plush carpeting that ran the full length of the hall. The soundlessness of her movement added another otherworldly touch to the vision before him, a vision he had dreamt of making his own. He felt his member rise as he gazed at her ass, lovingly gripped by the spandex, stretched tight to form a curved plane as it faced him, but the cleft between her round, muscular cheeks was all too evident as the glittering costume dove between her legs, revealing the fissures and lines of her all-too-potent femininity. That perfectly sculpted ass, those wonderful thighs, round and firm: Ape stared at them, coveting them. It wouldnt be long.
Crimson Flare stood at the top of the curved staircase, looking down to the main entrance hall below. Vaguely, she could see several of Apes gang milling through the area. They stopped moving when they saw the heroine in her gleaming uniform leaning against the wall.
Who wants to fuck Americas Darling? Apes booming voice came from behind her. Crimson Flare struggled weakly against her freshly-bound wrists. When she had been unceremoniously dragged from the slab in the TV room, her wrists had been briefly freed. But Ape and Nancy hadnt given the dazed, spent superheroine more than a moment of freedom before they were rebinding her wrists, even more tightly, this time behind her back. Once again, she made a desperate effort to position the claw that would allow her to fight back. In her dazed, weakened condition, it was slow going.
Five hundred bucks! Ape released his hold on the leash and pushed his captive, hard.
In the bright light of the staircase and hall, Crimson Flare shimmered brilliantly as her petite body tumbled down the stairs. The high polish of her black leather boots, the radiance of the crimson-and-gold sequins on her costume, even the black vinyl of her mask: all caught the light which filled the entry and reflected it at all of the observers. The remains of the thick carpeting that had once covered the steps reduced her plummet to a few whispered thumps, which accompanied an occasional pained grunt.
When her body came to rest a few feet beyond the bottom step, on the hardwood floor beyond the edge of the faded green carpeting, she was laying on her stomach. She was too beaten to move. Ape walked down the stairs, smiling, playing with the heroines belt and her baton, passing the black leather belt and holster back and forth, one hand to the other. He restated his offer. You can do it right here. Theres a table over there he pointed, or, for those who prefer more comfort, use the sofa. He pointed again. The men in the foyer pressed toward him.
Four men in varicoloured leather jackets, symbolic of the gangs they had belonged to until recruited by Ape, fairly leapt forward. A half dozen others no less enthusiastic but more conspiratorial followed. These latter whispered among themselves as if planning a group endeavor in handling their opportunity with the heroine. Have your money ready, Ape told them. But I get her first. There! He pointed to the former library, the only room on the first floor of the mansion that had doors to close it off from the rest of the floor. It had been Apes quarters since he had moved in.
Do I get to play with her, too? Nancy asked, as she walked down the staircase.
Ape smiled. A grunt was all that emerged from his throat.
Nancy stood over the fallen heroine. She could hear Crimson Flare moaning softly. The redhead reached down and grabbed the leash attached to the collar and roughly pulled the Champion upward.
Ohhh, poor baby, Nancy said soothingly. Dont worry. I wont let you die. Were not through with you. She smiled across at Ape, and then added, Yet. With that she threw the leash back to the floor and let poor Crimson drop to its unyielding surface again.
Get up, you slut.
The glimmering form of the heroine slowly rolled to her side. Her bound hands limited her ability to move as well as her ability to call upon her strength. Painfully, over long minutes, she brought herself to a position where she was almost sitting. She rested on her hip, with her legs drawn up toward her. Her petite torso sat upright, but her head hung down on her chest.
Look at her, boys, Nancy said. This is the woman every criminal in town has wanted to fuck for over a year. The Great Crimson Flare. Victor over the Normans and the Savoyards. Saviour of Mitropoulos. The once-mighty Champion of Right and Justice. She pushed the swaying heroine lightly, dropping her to the floor again, exhausted. Look at her. Americas Darling. Sprawled like a clumsy rag doll. Champion of Women. Beaten to a pulp.
As Nancys denunciation ran on, the sound of mocking laughter emerged from the throats of the men gathered in the entry hall. Crimson Flare heard the contempt and tried to bury her face in the floor under her. Nancy was right, she thought. Who did she think she was? How could she imagine that she could correct the world? All she had done was to put herself in danger, probably get herself killed; probably got Stacy killed. And for what? A few lines in a newspaper. A footnote in some future book about Mitropoulos. She was nothing.
Pl-please. Ssstopp, the beaten heroine whimpered.
It was Ape who answered her, pulling her to her feet with his accustomed ease. Stop? Baby, we have just started. He fairly dragged the shattered Champion across the hallway to the library, pulling her into the dim room. Nancy was close behind. She closed the door behind her.
Lynn was surprised to find no one near the gates to the mansions entrance. The gates, she saw, were new, and, unfortunately, locked. They didnt even rock when she pushed on them. The far side of the driveway was bathed in bright lights, so climbing the gates would avail her little if her goal was to sneak on to the property. Looking around, she saw a wooded hill less than a quarter of a mile to her right. It might just give her the opportunity to clear the decrepit wall that moved off in both directions from the formidable new entrance.
Crimson Flare knew she had to escape. Whether she continued as a heroine was unlikely, especially in light of what was happening, but she had to get away. She had to save her life. Its just that she was so weak, so dazed that she couldnt think clearly enough to formulate a plan or even to make a concerted effort.
As she staggered into Apes room, she pulled desperately on her bonds. There wasnt a centimeter of give in those ropes! And because she had been rebound, she again (what was this?the fifth time she had tried to use it?) had to bring the edge of the claw into play. She leaned her shoulder against the wall, then slid around so that her back rested against the empty bookshelves. The desperate heroine used her body to hide her effort, but because she was working behind her back, she couldnt tell how well she was succeeding.
Ape cleared the detritus of yesterdays activities from the bed linen. Nancy walked to the little breakfast table that had been placed near the window and opened the familiar kit that was waiting when the trio entered the chamber. She pulled out a shiny black vibrator, handling it like an artist maneuvers a tool of his trade. This is my favourite, she smirked at the slumping Champion of Mitropoulos. I hope it will be yours, too.
Ape turned. Not yet, he said. I get her first. Youre going to keep her mouth occupied. And youll entertain me.
Jesus, Ape, cant you be original in any way? Every guy wants to watch two women go at it. Why not be a little daring?
Im daring enough in what I do during the day. When I fuck, I know what works. Besides, when Im finished
Yeah, thatll be about five minutes, Nancy thought aloud.
you can have her for as long as you want. Thats the kind action I could use to get up for seconds.
Crimson Flare had been frightened by the unmanageable sexual response that had seized her earlier. She was not used to giving in to that kind of physical stimulation. She had lost focus, she had failed to continue her escape effort with the claw while under assault, and she had allowed her physical response to overwhelm her mentally. Hearing the tête-à-tête between the two vicious criminals, she was now frightened by what might happen when Ape and Nancy began to work her over in a concerted way. Now, while she was aware of what she was doing; now, when she could think clearly and plan an escape; now had to be the moment of escape.
But Crimson wasnt allowed even the moment she thought she had. Ape and Nancy grabbed her roughly and pulled her toward the large bed that took up almost one entire wall of the large room. She no longer stumbled, but her movement revealed that the avenger was still weak. She pressed her glove-covered hands and forearms hard against her muscular ass, hoping for the welcome sensation of the claw taking a grip on the rope that had taken away her strength. The heroine pulled her arms outward from her bound wrists, trying to push the highest coil over the claw, but this was blocked in the middle of her effort as she was casually tossed onto the outsized bed. As she sank into its embrace, she felt the claw seize. The angel of Mitropoulos heaved a sigh of relief as she began to saw through the thick rope. She knew it would take time, and she knew that the sexual assault she would undergo would try to pull her focus from this desperate effort. She closed her eyes for a moment and centered herself. She needed to find a calmness within her to draw upon to face this ordeal.
But even this was denied the captive Champion. Apes huge hand smashed against the side of her face, twisting her neck painfully and driving her head into the mattress. She opened her green eyes in time to see the hand returning as he backhanded her agonizingly in the other direction.
Youre going to service me and my lady, bitch. Youre going to do what youre told or youre going to be in major pain. Now, come here! Ape pulled the petite form of the heroine upright, once again bunching the sequined costume in his ham fist.
Open it, he told Nancy, who reached behind Crimson Flare, searching for the zipper that was buried beneath the sparkling uniform. Finding it, she unhooked the metal catch at the back of the heroines neck, and then pulled the zipper its full length to the small of her back, just above her rounded buttocks. As she spread the glittering crimson halves, she smiled. Crimson Flare doesnt wear any underwear.
Ape responded, Soon everyone will know. Now pull it down. Show me her titties.
Nancy did as she was told. Crimson Flare reddened beneath her mask, humiliated by the exposure. Nancy leaned in toward her. OOohh, poor baby, she whispered. Not very big, are you? But then, thats not what youre sellin, is it? Its those legs you want them to notice. The girl in blue reached down and slowly rubbed her hand along the heroines thigh. She did so with almost no pressure against the leg, and Crimson felt a shiver run up and down her spine. It was the single most sexually thrilling contact she had ever felt.
Nancy noticed the heroines response. You like that, do you? Well, wait, baby, and youll get a lot more where that came from.
She leaned over and whispered into the uncovered ear of Mitropoulos Champion, Wait until the ape gets his rocks off.
Lynn moved quickly from tree to bush, keeping out of sight as she approached the big house. She saw the patio a mere twenty yards in front of her. Alone behind all the windows on this side of the house, the room off the French doors was dark. As she made the final rush to the safety of the alcove surrounding the terrace, she saw a thin, faint sliver of light lying across the flagstones. As she peered inside, she saw that the doors were held closed by a section of drapery cord. The thin wedge of illumination from inside the house was visible only because the patio was completely cut off from the exterior house lights. The light itself was so faint that only someone actually on the deck would be able to see it.
She reached her hand through the narrow opening and began to undo the knot.
Suddenly she heard a loud shout from inside the house, a group of men laughing, boasting. It seemed to be coming from the lobby on the main floor.
This is not the time to be snooping around in there, Lynn thought. She moved from the patio and, keeping close to the shadows near to the mansion, she began circling toward the rear of the building. Perhaps there would be another way to aid Crimson Flare.
The two criminals fairly covered the body of the heroine entirely. Only her tights, reflecting the light from the several desk lamps scattered around the room, and the black, polished boots were visible as she lay on the bed. The entrancing body of the heroine squirmed ineffectively as the two assailants attacked her. Nancy had her lips firmly planted over the mouth of Mitropoulos sweetheart, with her tongue exploring the full geography of that orifice. Her hands were at the side of Crimsons head, turning and twisting, seeking advantage in her pursuit of oral gratification. Crimson Flare could be heard, muffled, complaining.
Her sequined costume had been pulled down to her waist. The narrow shoulder straps were down around her forearms, themselves still secured behind her back. Ape Greystook was caressing the smooth flawless skin of the beauty, after his fashion. Roughly, he rubbed her shoulders, her chest, her breasts, seeking to stimulate himself as he pressed forward, preparing to penetrate the exposed sex of the Champion of Mitropoulos. This was the way he had dreamed it. With Nancy working wonders with her mouth, and Crimson Flare lying before him, helpless, he sought all of the inspiration that her body would provide. His hands pressed against her flesh, sometimes forcing the heroines complaining moans to increase in volume; he placed first one nipple, then the other, between thumb and forefinger and squeezed, giving rise to a pained protest from beneath Nancys educated lips. Yes, this was almost exactly as he had imagined it would be. Soon he would press him organ home and into the symbol of virtuous womanhood.
Ape had been given his name because of his similarity to the prowess and physique of that creature. He was tall, with a massive, muscled chest; his long arms were well developed and in fact were permanently partially bent at the elbow; likewise his legs were bowed and equally well developed (though, truth be told, they were long, like his arms and unlike the appendages of his namesake). Unfortunately, he also bore a distinct resemblance to the jungle beast in his equipment, which was, to put it delicately, stunted. (Nancy believed that this was evidence of earlier steroid use: Ape denied he had ever used steroids.)
Crimson Flare was in agony. Apes roughhousing of her arms and chest was like being molested by a car wash; and, at the same time, Nancys delicate and perverse tonguing was threatening to seek out new worlds of experience. Her hands and wrists were deeply buried in the soft billows of the mattress and bedspread. She could barely move those extremities, and she had no way of knowing what progress, if any, she was making on freeing herself and unleashing her strength. The masked heroine had felt the blade of the claw catch on the top loop of rope around her wrists; she moved her hands in the familiar way, the means by which she had freed herself on numerous occasions previously; but she could not feel the usual loosening of the rope as the claw made headway.
As Crimson Flare continued to doggedly saw away, she felt Apes big hand on top of her sequin-covered mound. She felt him press his immense body between her thighs (and she felt her legs begin to kick, only to be pressed to the coverlet). Finally, she felt his prick, hard and round, at her entrance, beyond the torn costume and tights. When he pushed himself into her, she responded with a snarl, a snarl muffled by Nancys adventurous mouth, and a groan, a groan cut off in mid-breath.
As Ape pressed himself into the Champion of Women, she wanted to scream, but Nancys ever-stimulating mouth muted her complaint. But when she realised that he was completely into her, and what Ape was, she found herself stifling a laugh. And then she felt Nancys mouth over hers, likewise smirking and whispering a SShhh! Shuush!! The heroine only needed that moment to take in a salient fact about Ape Greystook: Angry, he had less than four inches.
Ape slid easily into the heroine. He looked down on her body, a body that had fascinated him for months. He looked at the tight-fitting costume, glittering in the lights scattered around the room. He enjoyed the feeling as his hand played over the sequins, sensing the coolness of the spandex beneath and the warm silken flesh beyond that. He held her by the hips, so that he could continue to relish the sensuality of the uniform. He felt the hard muscle give under his hands as he pressed himself fully into her. He moved his hips and she followed obediently.
It was always this way. Every woman he had ever been with would admit that his entry was never harsh or painful. He allowed his hands to roam over her hips, her thighs, her calves to her leather boots. He lifted the boots so that they lay against the sides of his face. She lay on her back with her legs reaching upward, the black leather resting against his immense shoulders. Ape allowed the full experience to wash over him, from his fingers, which still held the soft shiny leather, to the tip of his prick.
He looked down at her, loving the sense that the powerful, the virtuous, the virginal Crimson Flare was his for the plucking. He looked towards her face, watching her closed eyes behind that vinyl mask, partially hidden by Nancys mass of red hair. With his left hand, he reached out and pushed the clump of curls aside. He looked at the flawless complexion, the smooth skin, round over her muscles in her arms, silky across her shoulders and breasts. He knew that he would never again have a woman like this one!
He pressed further into her, paining himself in the process, though his victim seemed to suffer little from the pressure. He felt himself on the verge of cumming; wishing to delay the inevitable, he withdrew and breathlessly ordered Nancy, Get out of my way!
I want her to give me a blow job.
But, Ape, Im the only
Get out of the way! Ape was struggling to hold his wad, and the effort sounded in his voice. He pulled violently at Nancy to get at the masked crusader.
Nancy landed on the floor beside the bed. Ape pulled himself from the sequined heroine, and let her legs return to the soft bedspread. Then he straddled her waist and hips. With his huge right hand, he grabbed her uncovered hair and pulled her painfully up from the bed. You do what youre supposed to do, you dont get hurt. You understand? There was an unmistakable threat in Apes voice.
With the help of Apes powerful arm holding onto her dark brown hair, Crimson Flare nodded assent.
All right. On your knees, you bitch. He climbed off her and stood next to the bed.
As the petite heroine slid to the floor, she noticed how the huge gang lord towered over her. She knew that, until she could free her hands, he could easily kill her.
She stood for only a moment. She noticed that, for the first time, she was steady on her feet and didnt sway. She didnt know whether the claw was having any effect on the ropes that removed her strength, but she was regaining her composure and her confidence.
I said, ON YOUR KNEES!
Slowly, reluctantly, wanting to test her new sense of security but knowing it was too soon, the Champion of Mitropoulos dropped to her knees before the towering criminal.
Take it! Suck it!! Goddamn you, you bitch!!
Crimson Flare leaned forward, like she was bobbing for an apple, and plopped the engorged organ in her mouth. If rape was about control, and threatening violence to maintain that control, then this was the ultimate in Apes control over the heroine. Powerless, her costume stripped to her waist, her hands tied behind her back, on her knees in the attitude of a slave: All of this placed the Champion at a humiliating level beneath her conqueror.
Ape was in heaven. He had known that some daysome dayhe was going to bring that high and mighty superbitch down. And now he was doing it. Every other gangland figure in town who had taken her on was dead, in prison, or just disappeared. But he had her on her kneeson her knees!and sucking his cock. He wanted to watch her, to see the fulfillment of his triumph over her. But the thrill that filled first his hips, then raced up his back and down his thighs, and finally touched his whole body made it nothing more than a glance. The feeling racing through him, starting at his groin, which was at this moment the elevated centre of his existenceher mouth circling him felt so soft and the edges of her teeth playing along the top and underside of his prick, just enough to increase the stimulation but not enough to offer any pain or even threat, her tongue lapping, washing against his tipthe feeling that swelled the scale of his victory over this, this mere woman, had him seeking a higher exaltation, his eyes roamed dreamily upward. Unconsciously he raised up on his toes, lifting his body just as his soul was lifted as high as it could go. His grip found her hair, and as he seized the silken tresses, a new sensation seized him. He felt the softness of this woman: her hair, even matted with sweat, was still like so many layers of silk; her skin, as he brushed his knuckles against the side of face, gave easily to the pressure. This new sensation drew down, down toward her. He bent at the waist and, at the same time, bent his knees, seeking to bury his face in that breathtaking hair. As he did so, the thrill in his groin reached a peak, his whole body quaking. He stood erect to bring the shudder under control and the process began again; up on his toes and down, bending; like he was riding the heroine, fucking her, but this was so much better. Her lips sent shivers through his entire body. If this was how she performed, he might keep her.
Crimson Flare felt the degradation throughout her being. She raised and lowed herself, leaned forward and was bent back; all to follow his meandering hips and cock. The Champion was completely dependent on the large criminal she was servicing. In her humiliation, she became concerned about the repercussions of failure; she ceased to be Mitropoulos saviour, and she became Apes whore. The undersized cock threatened to slip from inside of her mouth, so she used tongue and teeth to hold it in place; there was no telling what Ape would do to her if she failed to hold onto that petite organ. If only she knew how effective the claw
Suddenly the heroine felt the bonds holding her loosen, and there was a renewal of her strength. The claw had cut through the rope.
End of Chapter Three
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