Dagger 

 

 

by Mr. K. 

 

 

Click on images to enlarge.

 

"Make sure to cum on my stepmother's face first. She desrves gallons of cum. When you capture my stepmother, utterly drown her in cum. Make Cutlass Cum Lass."

They all lauged at that but none of them could deny how serious the young woman was.

"Capture all of them, and let the men have all of them, but make sure you hurt my step mom with cocks and cum. When the men cum on her, make sure it gets in her eyes. That will burn, and she will scream. I want to hear Cutlass scream. Make sure you make a show of it. Every heroine that you capture tonight must have bukkake and must have her cum-cooking time, but make sure my step-mommy has a face full of cum."

Taylor paced as she spoke. She was clearly going over a list in her mind. She was tapping one fingertip after the other in the palm of of her nylon-covered hand. She paused, smiled, and returned to the image.

"When you do it, do it right in front of me. Let me mock her. She will feel true humiliation. Make sure she sees me seeing her covered in all of that jizz. Now, there will be at least three other heroines with her, and you need to bukakae them in the same way as well. She is comimg here with Mother Night and with Gold. Both of them need a dousing and a cooking in front of that special someone."

Taylor paced. Taylor spoke.

"Mother Night may have her daugher, Hexx, with her. Make sure she watches. Make sure Hexx sees her mother beaten, humiliated, and utterly doused in cum. Make sure that my stepmother whore, Cutlass - Tina - sees Gold utterly dripping in cum. I want her to see the pain, but, especially, to see the humiliation of Gold. They eat each other's pussies whenever they get the chance. They are a cute little couple in spandex. Make sure it is the villian that she hates the most that brutalizes each woman."

She shook her head for a moment.

"That is what they call freedom fighters like us -'villains.' Make sure Mr. Thorn beats and cums on Gold. Make sure that for each costumed whore, the person that they hate the most, and that they love get to see the humiliation."

The family that watched her was in wrapped attention.

The older magic-using woman, her daughter, and The Man that she treated like a son all listened. They sat. She stood. She paced slowly in front of them, talking with her hands. When she wanted to emphasize a point, she would slap one palm into the other. Her voice was gentle, but her words were sharp edged and direct. Newly washed and dried blond hair swept her nylon-covered back as she explained how to destroy Cutlass, Gold, and Mother Night.

"You've completed the first part of what we will need to destroy my stepmother and her magical whore friends. You gathered what I asked. Now, you must understand that Mother Night wields a power called The Darkness. Her magic is more powerful than my step mother's. Don't be intimidated. You have The Stillness. You have ýour 'light-as-a-feather' spell . Make sure to make statues out of them. Make sure to beat then. Make sure to fuck them. Rape all of them, but be sure to go hard on my stepmother. Make sure to cum in and on Cutlass as many times as you can."

She paused, then her family smiled.

"Taylor," said the older woman. Her voice seemed small and fragile next to the words of the nylon-swathed Taylor. It was a mother's voice. "You are a wonder. You are a beautiful wonder. Where would we be without you?"

The young man reached out and touched Taylor's hands. It was the same strength that she felt when he took possession of her body upon her capture. She felt herself grow moist at the strength of the hands that had choked her and tossed her about during her endless rape sessions. She smiled. "We've got this! We love you and we've got this. They are coming to our house and we are going to rock their world," he said.

They all laughed. She loved it when he anyone called it their "house." It was a castle, wasn't it?

"Go get some rest before they get here," he said. She paused for a moment. She spent a moment looking at her new family, loving her new family. She silently smiled, kissed each one, and padded back out to her room.

She walked silently down the hallway, her stocking feet not even making a gentle shushing as they contacted the smooth marble of the floor. Normally, there would be clicking as the high-heels of her boots beat a rhythm against the floor. That was when she was still Dagger, and still fighting beside her stepmother, Cutlass. That was before she was captured into this family. That was before she was freed. It could be called torture and breaking, but she surly saw it as coming to "finally understanding."

When she was Dagger, she wore a costume similar to her stepmother's - a purple and black catsuit with high -heeled boots. Like her stepmother's, it was super skintight. Like her stepmother's, it combined stockings, and a latex body suit.

Now, as she stood in the trophy hallway of the castle, she looked at that old costume. It was secured in a glass case labeled DAGGER.

It was no longer hers. It was a trophy case.

"Good riddance."

Now, she wore a simple catsuit of what appered to be - what felt like - pantyhose nylon. It was flesh-colored. It didn't cover her head, her face. It did encase every inch of her from her neck down. It formed mits. It showed her dark aureola. This was her new costume. They called her SEX TOY or GOOD GIRL, now.

She remembered the day they handed her this new costume - this encasement of nylon - that she now wore. She was kneeling, naked, in her cell that day. She was kneeling as she had so often since the day that they captured her. She was kneeling with a heart full of absolute joy.

They had used magic to torture her up to that moment. From the day that they had brought her as a captive to their home, they had asked her one simple question. They kept her in her costume and they asked her "How do we break them?"

She only glared at them, that first day.

The magical mother brought out a board. The board was covered in three-dimensional shapes. She sat it in front of Dagger, as the blond heroine sat trapped to a chair with energy bands.

You will truly suffer, I’m afraid.”

She moved a shape – a pyramid – from block to another. Something a vast as time and as exact as a razor, burned through her mind. She wrenched and shook in her bonds. Her hair cast itself about in a blond cascade. The thick muscles in her thighs flexed and her big breasts shook.

They tortured her over and over, moving the three dimensional shapes around on a board that projected some sort of gut-wrenching magical force through her body. She could feel her consciousness splitting apart, putting her in two, three, four places at the same time. Each one was a soul-burning agony. She wasn't sure how much time went by, she just remembered how calm and pleasant she felt as she finally stripped away her costume, her boots, and stood naked in front of her captors.

Then she was naked.

Then she was in her nylon encasement.

She stood there, now, looking at her costume in the glass case and smiling. She was proud to see it as a part of their museum of heroine defeat.

"Good night, Dagger," she whispered.

She walked past costumes and masks in cases and on mounts. She smiled as she passed each one.

She stopped in her walk to the room to look and laugh at one of the prize artifacts. Now, this was perfect. She looked closer at the prize in the case. The captive woman in the case had empty eyes. Hypno eyes. They had that vacant stare that a person gets when the true hypno power has seized them. For all this woman knew, she was somewhere else doing something else, and only seconds had gone by since they confronted her. Her body was relaxed but rigid as it sat in a chair. In her case, in her chair, she stared straight ahead.

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"Hello, Mother Flame. Some old friends are coming to join you," she whispered to the woman in the cube. Of course, the woman could not hear her. The woman sat peacefully in her captivity, with no voice from the outside pouring in. Peaceful. Taylor knew that the capture of Mother Flame had been anything but peaceful.

She remembered when Mother Flame attacked the home in hopes of rescuing her- Dagger- with just one other heroine with her. Only two heroines flew out to the rocky protrusion that jutted up from the ocean, and the castle that rested on it. Taylor loved to call it her "home," and her "house," but it is truly a castle. She lived in a castle with magic users and witches.

Mother Frost and Mother Flame must have thought that surprise and using their magical powers would be enough. "You were wrong, weren't you?" she laughed to the deaf ears of the woman in the clear cube. Just as she leaned back from saying that, The Man was beside her. As usual, he was shirtless and his massive erection fought to literally tear itself through the confines of his jeans. He smiled along with her. She spoke to him without looking over.

"When my mother and her friends get here, rape them like you raped me and raped her," she giggled. "Rape her like you raped me.”

He smiled, looking at Mother Flame, trapped and displayed. "We can trick them the way we tricked her," he laughed. They held hands and recounted how, as the battle of frost and fire was going on, they created a tableau to trap one of both of the heroines.

Taylor, dressed in her nylon catsuit that day, got on her knees. She opened her mouth wide, then a bit wider, to accept the massive girth of The Man. They worked together, stuffing his massive tool to the back of her throat. They worked together as he gave her his load.

This was the cock of the man who had defeated her mother and aunts; she was thrilled to have it shoved down her throat. As she recounted the moment that she and The Man captured Mother Flame, she remembered the excitement she felt as the veiny girth stretched her mouth and blocked her throat.

The day that they captured the blond woman in the cube, Taylor had overflowed with cum. When Mother Flame blazed her way around the corner, she found them like: She saw the captive younger woman, in her new costume, being sexually tortured. Talking to The Man now, Taylor remembered how fun and exciting it was to hear the blond heroine's Southern accent as she demanded "Let her go!"

"Gladly!" said The Man. He let the massive cock slide out of her mouth.

Taylor and The Man, now looking at the captive blond, recalled, together, how he raised his hands and slowly drew himself back. He showed fear, and Taylor did her best to show the relief of having been rescued. She recalled running to Mother Flame, her mouth full. She laughed as she remembered how their eyes met.

"She knew something was wrong just before I did it," she laughed, recalling the day they captured Mother Flame.

That day, at that moment Taylor spat cum in Mother Flame's face. She shot it as a thick, gooey wad that made a smacking noise as it crashed into her skin. The older, blond woman recoiled, closed one eye, then opened them both in shock. Mother Flame's burning hands went out. Her glow went out. With her mouth gaping, and cum running down her face, her arms fell to her sides and her muscles became rigid. With her eyes wide, you both recall, Mother Flame stood in captivity. The Man's semen was more than just cum. It held the magic of this place, and it now ran through the heroine's system.

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Taylor looked at the woman now, still in her brilliant red catsuit, still with her shocking blond hair looking as brilliant and as the moment that she was captured. She remembered how she reached out and smeared it all over the woman's face. She made sure to smear it across her full lips as she said "Hey, Auntie Theresa. How are you? Thought you'd come and rescue me yourself since my step mom is so beaten and weakened. So sweet of you. You're a little late though."

The cum poison was turning her into piece of art. Taylor laughed as she remembered it. She laughed that day, as she smeared cum across the mature woman's full, red lips.

"Do you remember how she stood there like a statue and I played with her pussy? She had that nice thick camel toe like my step mom’s and, in that red catsuit, it spoke to me."

They both mused over how she sank two fingers up into the puffy wedge of Mother Flame's vulva. She spread those fingers, pushing the thick labia apart. She then squashed them together, then spread them again. She recounted how she pinched them, the jammed her thumb up against the thick bud of her clit.

"She couldn't moan, or scream or anything. Her nipples were hard and I sucked them. Remember that? I pinched them and I sucked them through her costume." She smiled at The Man.

"You fucked her and made her cum through her costume. Remember?"

He nodded and smiled.

"I do."

"You raped her as hard as you raped me when I was first a captive here," she said, trilling a bit.

"I did." He spoke with true joy.

"When Cutlass gets here, rape her the same way. Please."

"I'll be happy to," he smiled. He remembered what a joy it was. He remembered, first off, what a joy it was to beat Mother Flame, the heroine that sat captive in front of them right now. She had burned through a wall and engulfed some of the servants, the henchmen, in a fireball. She was a blonde blur in red, using super speed and flame power to wreck their home until he and Taylor had stopped her.

 

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It was as though a war had suddenly ended. Where there had been explosions and fire there was silence, or the crackle of fire. There was wreckage, a captive women in red, and Taylor fingering the woman’s cunt. Then Taylor tortured the helpless woman's nipples with her mouth, biting and sucking through the red second skin. Then the mother and daughter entered the room. They wasted not a moment.

"Light as a feather! Stiff as a board! Light as a feather! Stiff as a board! Light as a feather! Stiff as a board!"

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Mother Flame levitated. Smeared in cum, hypnotized, the blond woman called Mother Flame - the woman who had known Tayor since her earliest years - floated helplessly in midair.

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The woman, who was now in the capture block, levitated that day. The heroine in the skintight, red catsuit lifted into the air as a helpless object.

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"Float her down the hall and into the bedroom."

Taylor got wet, that day, at the sight of the long body, the blond hair, the sinewy muscle and long limbs, being dragged through the air.

'"Of course," he laughed.

"Fuck her," said looking at The Man.

First, they lowered her to a bed - a plush, ornate four poster bed that looked as though it belonged on the cover of a romance novel. Taylor and the other young woman crawled on to the bed, both of them on all fours. Each of them grabbed an arm, pinning it to the mattress.

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The removed the spell so that she could scream.

He remembered how Taylor and her new sister held the fire woman's arms down once they had thrown her on the bed. He had unleashed his cock, pulled her muscular legs apart, and rammed his tool into the outline of her sex. He recalled how soft and juicy she was - how she spurted and screamed as his thick head rode the red crease of her sex.

She wet the bed with her cunt spume,” Taylor recalled.

Now, Mother Flame was in a clear capture cube.

Make my mommy spurt like that when you get her.”

Bonus Images

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