Cutlass 5

by Mr. K.

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Cutlass was preparing herself. Cutlass was unprepared, but preparing herself for the next stage of this battle. Cutlass’ muscles ached. Her throat ached. Her cervix was still sore. Cutlass as still preparing herself to face a foe that she did not know could actually be beaten. Cutlass was thinking about what had brought her to this point.

She thought about the mother and daughter magic-users that did such a resounding job of defeating her and her daughter Dagger – Taylor.

She thought about her captured daughter as she pulled on her purple catsuit.

She thought about her broken sisters as she pulled on her purple catsuit.

It wasn’t just the mother and her daughter, she recalled. They had recruited more villains. They had brought in a combatant that she knew only as The Man.

They had battled The Man, the mother, and the daughter. They had fought to get Taylor – Dagger – back from them. He had overwhelmed the three of them, plus a host of other heroines. He had beaten and raped each of them, then set them on a path of almost endless orgasms.

He had drowned her in the toilet.

He knew them well; he timed it so that if her sisters survived, they would be drained. They did survive. They were drained. They were powerless, average women. All of them were left alive and weak.

Foil and Sabre were broken. They had to recharge their magic and rest their bodies. They tried, but their lush bodies still had the aftershocks of the orgasm storm. Cutlass would go it alone.

As Cutlass smoothed her catsuit against her body, there was a a hum in the air. There was a gentle vibration that ran through everything at once, just for a moment. That was when Mother Night materialized from the darkness of her bedroom.

“You could always knock on the door,” said Tina - Cutlass – as she put her mask in place. She smiled. Mother Night was here, and that would make a difference. She hadn’t asked for the magical superheroine to come, but here she was.

Mother Night leaned against the wall. She was built much like Tina – tall and curvy, long lines mixed with sinewy muscle. Athletic. Large breasts and thick thighs. Arms used to doing work. Muscular. Strong. Narrow waists. Thick hair. Thick red hair.

She was a magical witch like Cutlass. She was Dr. Constance Britain in her regular persona – her day-to-day life.

“You know I’m into dramatic entrances. So is your golden girlfriend,” she smiled. She saw the slight blush rise in Tina’s cheeks when she mentioned the “girlfriend.”

“Tracey is coming?” asked Tina. She had not summoned any other heroines, but word gets around. Tracey Hannah was Gold, another powerful witchy woman.

“Sure is.”

“What? Is she parking the car or something?”

The other redhead laughed.

“I’m pretty sure she flew. She’s probably landing on your balcony in a moment or two. Oh! My girl’s coming also.”

Cutlass stood and Mother Night encircled her with lean, muscular arms. There was a moment that Cutlass let her head rest against Mother Night’s shoulder. The redhead in black felt the redhead in purple exhale, relax.

“We’re going to get her back and we’re going to punish them,” she soothed. “Hexx should be here soon.”

Just like Cutlass, Mother Night had a super-powered daughter who went into battle with her.

“Hexx,”said Cutlass. “She’s going ....”

Cutlass’ words were cut short by a doorway of darkness opening in the middle of the room. There was the hiss and sizzle that always accompanied magical doorways. There was the strong scent of ozone that always accompanied a superheroine phasing in and out this reality or that. This is when a superheroine would simply walk through the open door that appeared in the air.

Someone opened a magical doorway and shoved through an unwilling participant.

Dressed in a black catsuit almost identical to Mother Night’s, a tall, lean blond woman fell limply through the doorway. A curvy, blond with pert lips and high, large breasts fell limply through the magical doorway that had opened right in front of Cutlass and Mother Night. She simply toppled through, letting gravity take her . Her head lagged back and her arms hung limply at her sides. Her eyes were half-shuttered and her lush, red mouth hung in a droop.

This was Hexx. This was the daughter of Mother Night. She had similar powers, none of which were on hand right now – someone had done what they wanted with her, then shoved her helpless form through the magical portal.

She fell with the dull thud of defeat on Cutlass’ bedroom floor.

“Mom ...” She gargled the word. She coughed, and the two superheroines heard the rattle in her chest. They saw the splatters and gobs of spunk that clung to her costume and hair.

She moaned. It was a split second after she fell, and lay on face-down on the carpet, that the other heroines realized she had a steady stream of semen pouring from her open mouth. She coughed and she rasped, each time a stream of cum being dislodged from her throat. The musky smell of sperm surrounded her.

“Hang on, hon. Mom’s here,” whispered Mother Night. She grabbed hold of her daughter and gently rolled her on to her side.

“Recovery position,” she whispered.

“They drowned her,” Mother Night said. “They drowned her like the convicts drowned me years ago.”

“In cum,” added Cutlass. She was lifting Hexx’s long, strong legs. She and Mother Night looked at each other.

“They drowned her in cum like they drowned me years ago,” said Mother Night.

“Mom ....” she said, her voice giving in to the fluid in her lungs. The one word – a call to the redheaded woman in black – was little more than a garbled cough. She tried again to speak “They ....”

Her whole body shook as she coughed up another rush of semen. It was still in her lungs.

She planted one palm against the floor and slowly began to work her way up to sitting. With each movement, she labored to breathe. With each struggling breath, streamers of some man’s sperm came up from her lungs and hung like stalactites from her nose and mouth.

Cum was embedded in her hair.

“Don’t try to talk yet, baby,” Mother Night soothed. She knew what had been done to her; she had suffered it herself. When she was taken captive by the criminals on the prison satellite, they drowned her in cum they had collected over years. They drowned her to the point of actual asphyxiation. They drowned her, revived her, and drowned her again. And again. And again. She was Mother Night, suffocated in the cum of 1,000 men. She was Mother Night, tortured.

This was clearly what her daughter had endured.

“They said this ... was a message for both of you. One of them was ... There was a woman I’ve never seen before ... Tall, dirty-blond, and she looked like ...” She coughed and loosed another clot of cum. She started again. “She looked like a trucker.”

The two heroine mothers looked at each other and said the name in unison. “Road Dog.”

Recollections of Road Dog

Tina – Cutla

ss – couldn’t scream. She wanted to. Her whole body wanted to, but her throat was squeezed shut by the other woman’s hand. Her powerful hand. It was her left hand, and it was clamped tightly around Cutlass’ throat. Her right hand was clamped tightly around Cutlass’ right ankle. The woman’s muscles flexed in her white t-shirt, straining it as she forced Cutlass’ long leg away from her.

Cutlass’ other leg – long and muscular-thick in its purple skin sheath – was raised up behind Road Dog. The villain woman in jeans and a white t-shirt sat between Cutlass’ thighs. She choked the heroine and she rotated her denim crotch against the captive vulva of a superheroine.

“Bumping doughnuts, bitch. I love me some bumping doughnuts!”

Cutlass was on her back, on the concrete floor, her legs spread wide in the air, and Road Dog was neatly fit between those wide-spread thighs. She was grunting and she was was choking her and she was rhythmically pumping her mound, in it’s tight denim, against Cutlass’ in its tight super-skin costume. Both women had massive wet spots spreading between their thighs.

Cutlass was suffocating. The tall, powerful woman had a big vulva. Her cunt had long, thick lips that protruded. In her tight jeans, she had pouty distinct camel toe just like Cutlass. She had choked and slapped and beaten the depowered Cutlass, then configured her just right so that she could mash her camel toe cleft into Cutlass’. Her pussy was swathed in tight denim, and Cutlass’ in her sheer second-skin. The two big labia fit together like wet puzzle pieces and she used her cunt to rape Cutlass.

She would bite her lower lip and squeeze Cutlass’ throat tighter every time her clit hit Cutlass’.

A camcorder was catching every detail, recording every sight and sound in the well-lit warehouse studio.

“Come on, bitch! Come on, Piggy! Come on, redhead MILF slut! Cum for Road Dog. You and your friend in black over there ... I zapped your powers, you lost the fucking fight, and now you are helpin’ us make some heroine porn. Ain’t that right, Sully?”

There was a rush of wet heat between them, in the interlocked web of their thick thighs. Cutlass felt the gush of the other woman’s spurt join the force and the rocking waves that came from between her thighs. This was when her clit shuddered, shook, and surrendered. This was when her thick muscles rebelled against her, quaking and convulsing, dragging her down tunnel that rushed with light and hormones and screaming and helplessness.

Road Dog released Cutlass’ throat for a moment, just to hear the desperate gasping screams.

“Good little spandex pig. This is only the first. We gonna’ make some porn outta’ you! Ain’t that right, Sully?”

She called again over her shoulder to the man in the leather jacket. He was tall and strong like his boss. His jeans were more worn and his leather jacket had the cracks of time and wear. His jeans were dirty and tight. It is as if he has chosen then just to show the massive bulge in his crotch.

“Oh, we sure are Lady Road Dog!”

He held one end of a chain. It was a long collection of shiny links, each one connected to the other in a line that ended in a thick metal collar. It gleamed as though someone had polished it over and over again. It was adorned with thick metal studs and a hinge that was held together with the last ring of the chain. The collar was around the neck of Mother Night.

Mother Night was on all fours. She was moving slowly, her head down, her body still bore the pain of the beating she had sustained—still resonated in her body. Road Dog had neutralized her powers and then taken her sweet time beating Mother Night to a pulp in the alley way outside. She beat her until she was unconscious on the dirty concrete. She had dragged her in by her hair, and given her to her henchman so that they could get on with the entertainment for the evening.

She crawled to a dog bowl that had been adorned with her name. MOTHER NIGHT. Road Dog had picked up a trick from the convicts who had defeated Mother Night not long before that moment.

“You got that dog bowl good and full of spunk?” Road Dog called over her shoulder. She let go of Tina’s throat for a moment, just to hear the desperate gasp. Tina – Cutlass took deep pulls of air and worked her mouth as though she were trying to bit off chunks of oxygen and swallow them. She gulped air to the rhythm of her rapist.

Mother Night, on all fours, stared into the bowl of white goo. A camera was pointed at her. Its little red light was on.

The man who held Mother Night’s leash shook it, tugged it, then tugged it harder, making her head rear back. Her eyes squeezed shut for a second. Her lush red mouth turned down at the corners. Mother Night moaned.

“OK, red, go on an’put ‘çher face down and go on and eat that cum. I talked to some of those boys on that prison satellite you tried to take back. Man those boys, really tricked you. They got you all covered in cum. We’re doing the same thing. Keep the theme goin’, you know? Cum. You get nothing but cum and punishment for putting on those tights. Go on now; eat up. Eat up, or we kill that little cutie in purple Road Dog has between her legs over there.”

As if on cue, Cutlass mewled.

Mother Night lowered her face to the acrid ammonia smell of the bowl of semen. Her head swam as she inhaled, but she did as told. Mother Night snaked her tongue out and let it slide into the pool of white-grey scum. It disappeared into the spunk, lingered in a deep dip, then slowly pushed itself forward. Mother Night’s jaw jutted forward as she brought her tongue out of the spume. A thick line of cum drooled a link between the bowl and the clot that clung to her tongue.

She raised her head, closed her eyes, and brought her tongue back to the pink recesses of her mouth. She swallowed. Cutlass was looking to her side and she saw Mother Night’s long, lean body shudder. She watched the line of pearly drool run from the corner of her mouth.

As to punish her for inattentiveness, Road Dog drove her hips forward with a new vigour . She worked her hips in circles now, and she leaned forward. Swathed in second-skin purple, Tina’s thick thigh lingering in front of her.

As Mother Night slipped her tongue back into the cum, Road Dog opened her mouth wide and brought the edges of her teeth up against the thick muscle of Cutlass’ leg. The collared woman captured another gob of semen, letting it slide down her throat like an oyster, as Road Dog closed her jaws. The muscle in Cutlass’ calf was thick and hard, but her skin was nothing more than just that. Road Dog felt her clit shudder and jump as her teeth defeated the costume and buried themselves in the heroine’s flesh.

Cutlass – Tina – slapped the floor and screamed, her body convulsing as Road Dog fucked and bit her. The man holding Mother Night’s leash yanked with a new energy.

“Let me hear you slurp, bitch. Don’t mind your manners!”

Mother Night put her whole face in the bowl.

While her mind recalled the captivity they experienced under Road Dog, Hexx had continued explaining who had held her captive.

“We finally beat her and her little crew. We captured her, which made her extremely miffed,” said Mother Night.

Hexx nodded. “She said that ‘nobody makes Road Dog….’”

“’Their bitch,’” said the two red heads in catsuits. “Yeah, she kept saying that when your mother and I took her into custody,” said Cutlass.

“She hates both of you. So does …”

Hexx paused for a moment. She gathered her thoughts.

“There was woman in white. She said her name was Helen. She … was so elegant. I wondered what her powers were … until she touched me.”

Cutlass tilted her head back as a cold chill ran through her.

“Helen Wheel,”she said.

Mother Night got a distant look in her eyes and said the name herself.

“Helen Wheel. Lady Helen Wheel.

Hexx looked at her and nodded.

“She said she wanted to see both of you again.”