Chapter 6
“Just so you’re aware, champ, Russ Hughes mentions, “the Convincer here packs quite a wallop with a power source that generates 500 volts and about 15 milliamps of power – the full flow of it connected to these protruding black iron knobs. In normal humans, such electrical current would be nearly fatal. For you, it won’t kill you but it will be surprisingly painful.” The teen gulps noisily at this, drawing a smile from the degenerate pig leaning over the heroine with his cruel taunts.
“What’s more, the glove’s construction has been rigorously tested by Bruno who smashed it into concrete walls, brick planters, and steel drums without losing a single knob or lessening the formidable shock power of the glove. You may experience nausea, confusion and the need to vacate your bladder. Maybe even your bowels.”
The shadow of fear dances across Supergirl’s expression but the grimace and her thin lips show her resolve in the face of this rude threat.
“Now, just to be fair, I’m going to remove your anal dildo, sweetie, to make this fight a tad more even. Don’t worry, ladies, that remaining dildo in her twat is still potent enough to keep the mighty Maid of Steel susceptible to injury. After all, we can’t have Supergirl running out there and using one of you poor ladies for a human shield.”
“…would never…” moans the blonde heroine petulantly at the suggestion even as Russ approaches her from behind and kneels down. The intense orgasm that Bruno had forced out of the defenseless heroine was still reverberating potently through Supergirl’s brain, dulling her ability to plan, to judge, to fight back.
Russ wraps his left arm around the dazed lovely’s waist as she wavers listlessly on her hands and knees. His right hand hikes up the hem of the drained teen’s skirt and then jerks hard on the waistband of Supergirl’s underwear, pulling down the bright red panties to mid-thigh. There’s a gasp from Supergirl but only token resistance. After all, she wants the dildo out of her anus more than anyone in the room!
Firm fingers grasp the end of the dildo and Hughes draws out the devastating glowing green rod from the depths of Supergirl’s butt cheeks. The teen wonder merely groans in relief as her butt drops low, her eyes flutter and her bare-ass cheeks face the audience, showing off the end of the remaining vaginal dildo with its poisonous green glow emanating from within the devastated heroine’s glistening pink pussy.
Rising to his feet, Russ walks over to the podium and lays the dildo down on the stand before walking over to the wobbly blonde until he stands before her. Russ gives the audience a playful wink before shouting out, “Ready or not, blondie, try and defend yourself!” This barely constitutes a warning as the violent young man chops down hard with the glove onto Supergirl’s upraised face. Her head jerks around hard to left and the wide-eyed heroine’s expression reveals total shock to the audience of women watching her. Then her eyes roll up under her lids and Supergirl collapses heavily to the floor in a drooling sprawl.
“Warned you, didn’t I, champ? Told you what to expect and then delivered it. You might try to stand up and fight back, you pathetic wimp!”
Limp arms, a painful throbbing in her cheek and no strength in her legs whatsoever, Supergirl merely lies on the stage and groans. Once more the chant comes from the audience of women, “Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.”
“Oh no. Nope. That window has shut for the moment, ladies. Supergirl needs to learn her lesson now, just like all of you had to, right? That’s only fair, isn’t it? Training regimens must be consistent to reach maximum effectiveness. And as you all know, training at this stage means a brutal beat down.”
The sound of quiet weeping begins to emanate from a few of the women sitting in the padded chairs watching Supergirl’s torment. They’ve all experienced a version of what’s going to happen to the helpless blonde on the stage. They’re aware of the hopelessness of Supergirl’s plight. Some hope for a better outcome than their own. They’re just falling back on the heroine’s reputation, not what they’re actually seeing before them.
Russ grabs the collar of Supergirl’s tunic and yanks her to her knees with a sneer. “Since you seem unable to stand on your own, hero, guess I have to help you up. Now, show a little spine champion! Come on now, try to hit me. Lay one of your ‘super’ punches on me, girl. And send me into next week.”
A pawing feeble swing of Supergirl’s right arm is easily knocked away as is her second pathetic attempt at an uppercut. A harsh backhand from the younger Hughes once again jerks Supergirl’s head to the side, her eyes widening like saucers before they go flat and stupid. Just as the heroine starts to collapse to the stage yet again, Russ snags her collar, holds her up in place and delivers a massive forehand to Supergirl’s opposite cheek that pulls a harsh grunt from the Maid of Steel before knocking her senseless to the floor. Shockingly, a thin split in Supergirl’s cheek leaks a trickle of blood that leaves tiny droplets on the stage.
“…uuhhnnnhh….” The Convincer is living up to its name as Supergirl suddenly pleads for Russ Hughes to stop. “..no…don’t… hit me…agai….GUUNFFF!” The man’s power punch to Supergirl’s lower back, directly to her kidney, has the blonde jerking in place as her palm reaches back to try to soothe the hot stabbing pain there. Before she even can find solace by rubbing her back, the once illustrious Princess of Power is hoisted unceremoniously to wobbly legs before a thundering stomach punch doubles her over with a loud retching sound and a splat of pinkish bile on the stage between Supergirl’s boots.
For an endless fifteen minutes, Supergirl has the crap beat out of her by Russ Hughes’ skilled and relentless battering. Every opening the outmatched heroine allows is met with the devasting power glove delivering bruising blow after blow. Black and blue bruises, welts, cuts and a multitude of split wounds now show all over her face, her arms, her legs and through the ripped fabric of her tunic, on her belly. Lying on her back in a swoon of agony and confusion, Supergirl tries to protect a very nasty purplish bruise the size of a salad plate on her stomach in a futile attempt to cover her belly with her hand. When Russ peels the hand away, the panicked young heroine’s eyes bulge in horror as she sees him drive his fist down into her solar plexus. Rolling on her side, Supergirl pukes up a splatter of vomit and whimpers in place as her cheek presses flat to the floor inches away from the brownish puddle.
“I’m having a little trouble imagining you lifting an Abrams tank, hero. Those babies go 60 tons. Right now, I don’t think you’re capable of holding up a single artillery shell, little lady. Your reputation seems pretty badly overblown to me.”
“…when I …get… free….you’ll see… my…power…”
“When you get free? Yeah, not going to happen, cunt. We’ve got your number now. You’re going to be our number one cocksucker from here on out.”
“…won’t…do that….”
“Like you’ll have a choice, bitch. Anyway, let’s ease up on the kryptonite dosing for now. Can’t have you dying on us. We’ve got big plans for you, sex worker!”
Taking the pussy dildo remote from his pocket, Russ dials back the radiation lens and the agony that the Maid of Steel has endured in this hellish predicament eases up somewhat. She’s still incapable of creating any kind of offense against Hughes as he pulls her to her feet only to knock her down over and over with a variety of kicks, spinning hits to her temples and plain old fashioned belly punches. But slowly, Supergirl’s defense allows her to block more and more of Russ’ formidable attacks.
Finally, in a sudden lunge of desperation, Supergirl launches from a crouch and swings for the fences, trying to land a knockout blow to Hughes’ chin. Unfortunately, she telegraphs the move, allowing the man to dodge away from the left cross while planting a mule kick into that huge bruise just above Supergirl’s yellow belt. The gaping mouth and gasping wheeze tell the story: Supergirl has lost this fight completely. She sags helplessly to the stage and lies there in utter misery.
“Care to go another round, sugar?” Russ asks malevolently of the slumped and beaten figure before him. “Or will you tell me where that communicator is?”
As one now, the audience of young women chants out, “Tell him! Tell him!”
“…go to hell…Russ…” the heroine mumbles.
“Ten points for grit. Minus ten points for stupidity. Anyway, the training continues, correct ladies?”
“No, don’t. NO!” The outcry from the two rows of woman is thunderous. It brings a wide smile to Russ’ face.
“Ah, you all remember what comes next, don’t you? That sweet elixir you’ve all sampled. That powerful potion that I suspect even this young lady here won’t be able to resist. Naturally we tinkered with the formula – adding a pinch of kryptonite to ensure maximum effectiveness. No female we’ve ever tested this solution on has been capable of withstanding its effects. I’m sure you will find our little cocktail devilishly potent as well, Supergirl. A double-dose of Whore will have you bending over backwards to please me, champ.”
Supergirl’s face goes ashen as she cringes in torment from not just the mule kick that brought her so low but the concept of a drugged drink that could mess with her principles.
“You may not know much about me but the ladies out there certainly do, and they know from very upfront and personal experience that I rather enjoy getting blowjobs. And you, little lady, will be giving me the mother of all blowjobs!”
“Stop this, you bastard!” A brunette beauty in the second row rises from her seat and screams in frustration at the stage. “You’ve won. You’ve proven you’re better than her. Let her go.”
“Now, Wendy, you’re letting yourself get all worked up. You know the punishment for getting worked up. Stop now or it won’t go well for you.”
The brunette shuts up and sits down.
“Good girl. You remembered your training. Now just watch while Supergirl learns the beauty and wonder of everything her body can do when it’s properly motivated.”
Having said that, Russ waves Bruno back on stage from the wings. The huge ex-football player carries a generous snifter of thick clear liquid, swirling it slightly in his right hand. It’s imbued with a very faint greenish hue that has actually causes Supergirl to whimper aloud as Bruno walks toward her. The matching smiles on the two men are anything but friendly. Once again, there’s a murmur of weeping in the seats near the stage. The women know what’s coming. Some of the women are not weeping. Some are just watching with cynical resignation. Others with a touch of anticipation. The mighty Maid of Steel is going to be behaving in a very unheroic manner and some of the girls are warming up to that idea…big time!