I am not normally attracted to women. Being a straight-up heterosexual, I never really understood the whole girl-on-girl thing. But even I have to admit that the she-devil facing off with me is something spectacular. She has killer good looks—the kind of face that would be at home on the cover of any glamour magazine. But what really sets her apart is the body. Arms and shoulders that would be the envy of most men. Muscles that are cut as if from stone. Biceps that are forged from steel. Forearms of iron. Chiseled abdominals, hips, and legs, all mounted on a lean, six-foot one-inch frame.
I check her feet to make sure that she is wearing flats. I’m a tall gal but have to look up at this goddess. Wide, emerald-green eyes glare back at me. A long mane of fiery red hair frames a super-model face. Her lips are full and red. She is wearing a bikini bottom and leather chaps—got to love a gal with the gusto to wear chaps—and a tight-fitting halter-top that barely contains a rack of large, perfectly shaped breasts. My body tingles unexpectedly. I know that it is probably just an after-effect of what happened earlier in the day, when I was aroused nearly to the point of climaxing, but I am feeling unfamiliar impulses. Yes, if I were to lust after a woman, I decide, it might be for someone just like Ursula Major.
I can tell that she is feeling it, too, but at least she has an excuse. The super-charged pheromones emitted by my body can affect women as well as men and Ursula is a known lesbian. She is also a damn good bodyguard. Seeing her protecting the men that I have come to capture is not a good sign.
“What’s up, Ursula? Still selling your services to the highest bidder, huh? Even if they are white slaver pieces of trash?”
It is a moonless night but our bodies are bathed in the bright glow of headlamps. Two stretch limousines, one of them white and the other black, are parked at opposing angles on an otherwise deserted city street. It is just past midnight and the meeting has started right on schedule. As far as I can figure, the distinguished-looking Japanese man standing next to the white limo is the buyer. The sleazy looking blonde guy standing next to the black limo is the seller. I assume that the merchandise, the missing girls that I have come to find, is still inside one of the cars.
“All I care about is the money,” Ursula replies while eyeing my lithe figure unabashedly. “But I would have taken the job for free had I known you were going to show up. I have been waiting for a shot at you for a long time, Ms. Marvelous.”
“Really, Ursula?” I ask while trying my best to appear unconcerned. “Why is that?” “Call it a pride thing. I can’t stand the thought of some prissy princess getting all the fame and glory while the real queen freak goes unnoticed. I’m stronger than you, super-girl, and now I am going to prove it.”
Ok, so now I am liking her less. Good looks or not, this girl needs to be taught a lesson. Problem is that she is not alone. Two other girls, smaller in stature but just as anxious for action, stand at her sides. They are oriental and not as big as Ursula. Long dark hair falls straight over slender Asian shoulders. They are wearing full-length leather outfits, not the trashy ones you sometimes see on street corner hookers but the nice, expensive ones that thousand dollar a night call girls like to wear. A hooker is a hooker, though, and the black leather pants and midriff baring tops hug the taught figures of these gals so tightly that they seem painted on.
“Who are your friends?” I ask while glancing at them each in turn.
“These are the Izumi sisters,” Ursula answers. “Excuse them for not speaking to you. They know very little English.”
I can tell that the girls are twins. They are gorgeous, sexy. They are young, younger even than me, and their bodies are like slender blades, sharp and ready to cut. They may not speak English but the amused glint in their eyes warns me that they know who I am. They know my secret. They know my one vulnerability. The unwanted tingle teasing my body grows more insistent. “Oh, geez,” I think to myself. “What might they do to me if given the chance?”
A deep voice barks a harsh order in Japanese and my eyes are drawn past the girls to the man standing behind them. He is a middle-aged gentleman, his hair a mix of silver and black and his face showing the lines of a hard life. He wears an expensive and meticulously tailored suit. His eyes momentarily glance across my athletic figure but he otherwise refuses to acknowledge my presence. Instead, he seems impatient and disturbed that the meeting has been delayed. He wants me removed. He wants me gone. But then the sleazy blonde guy, the flesh-peddler, approaches and whispers in his ear. The Japanese man looks at me more closely. His expression changes and he nods. I know what is going on. I read it in his black eyes. I am no longer considered a problem as much as an opportunity. He no longer wants me gone. He wants me captured. He wants to buy me, to make me his slave. “Suta-to!” he commands.
The dark-haired oriental girls attack without hesitation. I barely avoid a barrage of deadly blows. Ursula stands back, allowing the petite duo to do her dirty work. She watches my moves, watches how I block and parry. She is studying me, I know. Looking for weakness.
But I have other concerns. The Izumi sisters are good. Their karate is almost flawless. Their strength is amplified somehow, greater than it should be. They are not as strong as me, perhaps, but the speed and power that they display with each strike is unnatural.
The first girl finally lands a blow. The knife-edged chop strikes me on the left shoulder and my arm goes numb. Her sister spots my weakness and attacks, driving a kick to the outside of my right thigh. I grimace in pain and am momentarily vulnerable. They grab my wrists and crisscross in front of me. I stand between them, my arms crossed and taught. The girls pull with every bit of strength they have, trying to dislocate both my shoulders.
My face contorts in pain but I am far from finished. I leap off the ground and twist my lithe body like a gymnast dismounting from the balance beam, spinning in mid air so that I am facing the opposite direction when I come down. My arms are no longer crossed. Using my superior strength, I pull the girls together so that their heads collide. I pull my wrists free and back flip out of danger.
The beautiful sisters grimace and rub their smarting foreheads. They seem angry. I have embarrassed them in front of their boss. Unfortunately, I have also left my back turned to Ursula. It is a mistake. She wraps her arms around my stomach and locks her fingers together over my bellybutton. She squeezes. I cannot believe her strength. I groan as my internal organs are crushed in a vice-like grip. She lifts me off the ground and squeezes even harder. I gasp for breath. The pain is numbing. My fingers scrape at her hands.
“Let go!” I croak.
She doesn’t respond. Instead, she rises up onto her toes and lifts my athletic body up and over her shoulder. Pain stabs through my spine as the point of her shoulder bites into the small of my back. She maintains her grip on my waist and begins bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. My back arches like a drawn bow. My arms and legs flop about. My head jerks up and down with each new bounce.
“Gaaaahhhhh!” I cry.
My only salvation is that it is taking all of her concentration and strength to maintain the difficult hold. At last, she flips my body over and dumps me face-first on the asphalt. I lie face down and groan. I feel her strong hands grasping my ankles. My body is weak. She forces my knees to bend and crosses my feet behind me. She presses down on them with a knee, forcing my heels to press into my butt. I am
flexible, but my thighs are burning. A forearm wraps under my neck. I gurgle in protest as she pulls back on my head and arches my back. Pain stabs through my spine. My hands and feet are tingling. I am struggling to catch a breath. A drum is beating inside my head.
I do not want her to know how hurt I am. “Good grip…” I manage to blurt out.
“Stop… struggling…” she replies. I can hear the stress in her voice. She is putting a lot of effort into maintaining the hold. She has never fought someone as strong as me, before. It is testing her. The tingling in my legs is turning to numbness. Nerves at the base of my spinal column are being ruthlessly pinched. But I have no idea how to escape this hold other than through the use of brute strength. My only hope is that she tires before I pass out. I have to outlast her.
Finally, her muscles burning, Ursula relents. She releases the hold, stands, and gives me a sharp kick to the ribs.
“What are you made out of?” she snarls angrily. “I have broken people’s backs with that hold!” I straighten my legs and let out a sigh of relief. I slowly roll onto my aching back and look up at the red-haired goddess standing above me. Her breasts are heaving. I can tell that the effort exhausted her almost as much as it did me.
But it is still three against one, or so I am soon reminded. Japanese girls seem to fall from the sky, crashing down on my prone figure with elbows and fists. Their strikes hurt. They rattle me. But I am a warrior and soon tire of being used as a punching bag. A snap kick sends one of the girls crashing head over heels into the gutter. Her sister joins her a moment later, courtesy of a right cross. I wearily get to my feet and shake off the dust.
“Not bad,” Ursula comments. “For a prissy blonde princess, I mean.”
I acknowledge the remark with a nod, knowing that it was meant as compliment. If nothing else, I have gained the woman’s respect. Her boss, however, is less pleased.
“Holy shit, Ursula!” the blonde guy snaps. “What am I paying your for? You are supposed to be the best! Take the super-bitch down!”
“Who’s the sleazebag?” I ask her. I think I see the hint of a smile on her full red lips. “Benny Truiphant,” she replies. “He is kind of a jerk, but he pays well.”
“Seems like a real jackass, to me.”
Benny scowls at me. “Keep talking, super-whore. We’ll see how brash you are once we get this into you…”
I watch in disgust as the man reaches into his jacket and removes an eight-inch silver-bullet from his pocket. The sleek-looking vibrator causes a quiver of fear to run up my aching spine. At least, I think it is fear. After everything that I have been through on this day—waking up hot and bothered from an erotic dream, being raped and nearly forced to climax by the Serpent Squad, and then wrestling with three extraordinarily beautiful women—it might be something else, something more dangerous to me than fear. In any case, the sight of the vibrator reminds me that I am at less than one hundred percent. I am weak, even vulnerable.
But if the sight of the vibrator causes me to pause, surely the sight of the second toy he pulls from his pocket makes me gasp in virtuous trepidation. It is bigger than the silver-bullet, a fourteen-inch long piece of thick rubber that has been molded on either end to imitate the oversized head of a man’s swollen cock. The rubber is flexible and flops around as he holds it, not stiff like some dildos, but soft so that it can be used by two women at the same time. Lesbians have to find ways to compensate, after all, and a massive rubber sex toy seems like just the thing.
“You have got to be kidding!” I exclaim like an innocent girl seeing a dildo for the first time. “You will never get that thing into me!”
“We’ll see,” he says while tossing the vile device to Ursula. “Do your job, bodyguard.” The tall redhead holds the rubber dildo in her hands and tickles one of the molded heads with the tip of her tongue. “Maybe, you’ll like it,” she says while suggestively rubbing the thick shaft between her large breasts.
My eyes open wide and I instinctively step back. I try not to show fear but things are getting out of hand. The Japanese sisters are back on their feet and standing on either side of me. One of them flicks her tongue at me as if to indicate what she has in mind. The other throws back her long dark hair and strikes a suggestive pose. Her hands slowly caress the tight leather of her outfit, running downward across her breasts, over a bare midriff, and onto her hips. They are planning a lesbian orgy, I think, and I am to be the guest of honor. There are only three of them but I have never felt so outnumbered. Maybe Joel was right. Maybe I am in over my head.
My wide blue eyes glance back toward the black limo. I am sure that the missing women must be in the car. They were abducted the week before from a college campus. Young women forced to experience a nightmare that no one deserves. Their lives turned upside down. They have been brought here to be sold, to be made into slaves and have their futures ruined. It is up to me to save them. Whether I face three opponents or thirty, I will not back down. I have to be victorious.
There is no need for further discussion. Everyone knows what is at stake. I launch myself at Ursula. She is caught off guard by my flying ability and the speed at which I cover the ground between us. My fist crashes off of her skull, just below the hairline. She goes down hard but the dildo somehow
remains clutched in her hand. I pick her up by the shoulders and run her head first into the side of the black limo. Benny howls in anger as a huge dent appears in his driver side door. He comes forward and bitch slaps me across the face. He drives a knee into my gut and backs me against the car. He drives a fist into my stomach. The punches hurt but I am more concerned about the device in his hand. I smack the silver-bullet from his grasp and it skitters across the street. The fates are against me, though, as the thing comes to a rest at the feet of one of the Izumi sisters. She leans over and retrieves it, then gives me a wicked smile.
I am distracted. Benny takes advantage by tackling and taking me down to the street. His legs straddle my hips. His hands go for my breasts. I squeal as he pinches down on my sensitive nipples. I am slow to push him away. I have been through so much. I am so weak. He gets in several good rubs before I take control of his wrists. We struggle and I force him to rise part way off of me. He is tough, though, and determined to get his hands back on my breasts. For a moment, it seems like he might. He has the leverage and uses his weight to supplement his strength. But he is not nearly as strong as I am. I position my knees and shove, sending him toppling backward.
But now it is the Japanese girls on top of me, lifting me up into a sitting position and working together to pull my arms behind my back. I struggle but they have the leverage. I yelp in pain as my wrists are crossed and pushed high between my shoulder blades. One of the girls performs a perfectly executed double-elbow underhook and locks the hold in place. Long legs wrap around my waist. Ankles cross over my stomach. She rocks backward, pulling me with her. My already injured back arches painfully, thrusting my breasts outward. My feet scrape at the ground as hips are lifted off of the ground. I know I am in trouble as the second sister, the one with the vibrator, moves around to the side and forces a hand between my legs.
The feel of her fingers tugging on my costume and exposing my womanhood causes me to thrash in desperation. The sensation of the cool tip of the silver-bullet sliding between my nether lips makes me frantic. But my struggles are cut short as it suddenly slides into me. My body freezes in shock as the vibrator easily penetrates two inches into my love hole. The veins on my neck stand out as the girl patiently slides the device another inch inside me. I gasp as my tight pussy embraces the smooth shaft. Thoughts of how I was nearly defeated by the Serpent Squad enter my mind. The memory of being tentacle-fucked is still fresh. My super-powered body is quickly aroused. The vibrator penetrates another inch.
The girl flicks a switch located on the base of the vile device. The double-A batteries are well charged and it hums merrily, vibrating a hundred times a second and sending shock waves though my lithe figure. I groan in misery. My legs instinctively part and leave me completely vulnerable. The silver bullet slides deep into my quickly moistening pussy and destroys me.
“Please… no…”
The girl flicks the switch off and on a few times to torment me. She pulls the device out of my pussy and lays the vibrating shaft across the top of my clit. My eyes roll into the back of my head. My taught muscles begin to relax. I continue to lie atop the body of the first sister, my arms pinned behind my back and her legs wrapped around my midsection. The pain that I feel in my shoulders and elbows quickly subsides, replaced by an all- encompassing numbness. I am beaten, now. The sisters own me. The vibrator torturing my clit is my master. I am their slave and I will gladly submit to whatever torment they wish to inflict on me.
Vibrator girl leans over my thigh and gently licks the wet folds of pink flesh that surround my love hole. Her tongue darts across my sensitive skin expertly, caressing, stroking, teasing. I moan softly while being ravaged. I whimper helplessly as she folds back the soft skin and exposes my hole. I coo like a baby as she blows gentle puffs of hot breath into my open snatch.
My mind is almost overwhelmed with erotic thoughts of being raped, but somewhere, deep inside, there still exists a super-heroine. I think again of the girls that I am supposed to rescue. They are close, I am sure, in the nearby black limousine, and probably terrified. They are counting on me to save them. How can I let this happen? How can I let myself be beaten? If only for them, I have to overcome my curse. I have to overcome my vulnerability to sensual stimulation.
The sister with the silver-bullet lifts it from my clit and pushes it back into my wet hole. She works it leisurely in and out of me several times, giving me the full length of its vibrating shaft before
slowly and torturously withdrawing it. A bit more of my strength is sapped each time the thing enters me. I know that I have to do something now, immediately, or I will be defeated completely. Ignoring the pain in my back and the sensations throbbing from my pussy, I rock to the left and snap my knee upward. It clips the girl on the point of her jaw and sends her tumbling back into the side of the limo. The silver bullet, still humming, rolls under the car and out of sight. I roll onto my side and then up onto my knees. My arms are still pinned behind my back and the second sister still has her legs wrapped around my waist, but that can be rectified. I stagger to my feet and fall backwards against the side of the car. The girl is stubborn but I bang her a second time against the vehicle. Finally, on the third attempt, the door handle catches her in a sensitive spot and she yelps. Her grip on my wrists loosens just enough. I use all of my strength to rip my arms free. Her legs come loose from around my waist. She plops onto the ground, landing on her butt. I reverse mule kick her square in the middle of her chest. The back of her head bounces off of the car door with a humorous clunking sound.
I nearly collapse but somehow find the strength to remain on my feet. “You girls never give up, do you?” I ask while standing over them.
Benny tries to sneak up on me from behind but I know that he is there. I spin and catch him just as he goes for me. My left hand grabs him by the neck and stops him cold. I nearly lift him off the ground. “You disgusting and vile pig!” I shout. “Release the girls or I will--”
A forearm slams into my lower back. It is Ursula. She spins me around and slams a fist into my chiseled abdominal muscles. The blow catches me directly on the solar plexus and I literally feel like I am about to die. She hoists me over her shoulder, carries me to the front of the car, and body slams me back first across the hood. The car rocks up and down on its springs. My spine feels broken. I lie there, limp, my long body stretched out across the top of the hood like a sacrificial offering on a pagan altar.
“You are the one that should give up,” she snarls while climbing onto the hood and straddling my waist with powerful thighs. “It is all over for you!”
I try to say something witty and heroine-like, but my words are cut short as the red-haired she devil forces something into my mouth. It is the long rubber dildo, I quickly realize. Its thick girth stretches my lips and forces my mouth to form a perfect O. The flexible shaft drops over my chin and falls across my chest. Ursula presses inward on my breasts so that the soft flesh embraces the dire thing. Her thumbs stroke my nipples through the sheer fabric of my costume. She likes the way they respond. She likes the way my buds become hard beneath her knowing touch. She strokes me like only a woman can, caressing my breasts in just the right way and with just the right tempo. I groan, though the sound is barely heard due to the thick dildo filling my mouth.
“So… weak…”
I lie limp beneath her and consider giving up. Part of me wants to surrender. Part of me wants to give in to the erotic sensations tingling through my body. The Izumi sisters have worked me over good. My pussy is hot and trembling. Ursula is pressing down on me with the weight of her gorgeous body. The dildo sits atop my tongue. Its molded tip feels like a real cock. I can almost imagine that it is a real man pinning me down, a real cock filling my mouth. The shaft, squashed between my breasts, titty-fucking me. A fourteen-inch dagger of hot flesh that ravages my body completely. I am being raped and I do not care. I want it to happen. I want—
“No…” I groan inwardly. “… Must not allow it…”
My hands are free. Ursula’s thighs feel powerful beneath the leather of her chaps. The bare skin of her hips is soft and warm. She gyrates on top of me, rubbing her womanhood over my lower abdomen. I can feel the moist spot at the base of her bikini bottom. I know that she is turned on. Seeing me helpless beneath her, a dildo filling my mouth, is exciting her. The feel of my swelling tits filling her hands is getting her hot. The sight of my hard nipples, poking upward from beneath my costume, is making her wet. She is going to turn me into a lesbian, she thinks. She is going to break the will of the great Ms. Marvelous.
But I don’t want to be a lesbian and I am not done, yet. Though my breasts are burning and my mind swimming, I cannot surrender. Too much is at stake. Innocent people are counting on me. My left knee rises off the hood of the car and slams into my foe’s back. My hands clutch her halter-top and pull her forward and off of me. The fabric rips but not before I send her toppling off of the car and onto the
street. I pull the vile dildo from my mouth and take a deep breath. I force my weary body to roll off the hood.
The two of us get to our feet at nearly the same instant. The remains of Ursula’s halter-top are still in my right hand but she seems unconcerned that her tits are exposed. Her breasts are large and firm. Her nipples stand erect. She is almost as aroused as I am. But this is a bad thing for me, I know. Ursula Major has only one thing on her mind. She wants to finish what she started. She wants to rape me.
“Why do you still resist?” she asks with impatience. “You want to use that thing, don’t you?” I follow her gaze and allow my eyes to drift down toward my left hand. To my surprise, I still clutch the long rubber dildo. I throw it to the ground in disgust but not before it reminds me of just how aroused I am. I feel ashamed. “No!” I insist. “I don’t… I mean I…”
She laughs, knowing from the sight of my flushed skin that I am attracted to her. My hard nipples protrude distinctly upward from beneath the sheen surface of my costume, further confirming my vulnerable condition. “Do not worry, child,” she mocks me. “I will be gentle with you!”
She charges forward and tries to get her arms around me. I am slow, sluggish. She lifts me in a bear hug but doesn’t seem interested in crushing my already injured back. Instead, she supports my weight and lifts me higher so that my breasts are at chin level. She likes it when my long legs wrap around her waist. She likes the fact that I barely resist as her lips pucker around my right nipple. She likes the way my head falls back and I whimper as she sucks the bud deep into her mouth.
The thin fabric of my costume provides virtually no protection as Ursula’s tongue laps across my sensitive bud. Never the less, she uses her left hand to pull back the cloth of my tapered costume and expose my breast. She draws my naked nipple into her mouth once more and proceeds to ravish it utterly. I moan uncontrollably. My once powerful body goes limp in her strong arms. “No…” I plead weakly. “Please… don’t…”
She ignores my begging, knowing that I want this. I curse my weakness. I curse my inability to resist. Can it be, I wonder? Can it be that I am really ready to surrender? Is this the end of Ms. Marvelous? Am I finally prepared to leave my crime-fighting career behind and surrender to the sexual desires that have for so long wanted to consume me? I have tried to resist them for so long. Not just tonight, as I battle Ursula and the Izumi sisters, and not just earlier in the day when I fought against the Serpent Squad, but forever, since the night those many months before when I first battled a street gang in a back alley. I was raped that night, introduced to the perils of the Sartak and forced to learn firsthand the nature of my vulnerability to sexual stimulation. And every night after that, when I donned the red and black garb of a super-heroine and risked my virtue and my life against all manner of thugs and criminals, I have tried to resist. I have been forced to fight not only the enemy but also my own urges. I have done my best. I have done my best to resist the sexual passions and desires of my inner demon.
But now, perhaps, it is at an end. As Ursula Major sucks on my tit and nearly brings it to the point of giving up some milk, I consider that I have done very little to prevent her from picking me up and putting me in this compromising position. I am tired, I admit. I am tired of fighting against desires that cannot be beaten. My body is a sexual thing. I am a sexual being. I am a slave to the woman holding me and a slave to the erotic sensations that she is drawing out of me. A sex slave. Ursula’s sex slave.
My breathing is ragged. My chest heaves, thrusting my screaming nipple yet deeper into the mouth of my new mistress. All I can feel is my swollen, burning tit. My arms dangle weakly at my sides. My legs remain wrapped around her waist. My crotch grinds against her stomach. My pussy is wet and ready. I am nearly at my end.
I hear something. Is it laughter? I force my head to turn. It is Benny Truiphant. He is standing at my side. His hand is caressing my thigh. He has a leering, lustful look in his eyes. “Oh, god,” I think. “He wants to rape me, too. Once Ursula is done with me, he will have his turn, as well.”
The guy is such a sleazebag. Having his hand touching my leg would normally make me want to retch. But even in that I am aroused. The thought that I am so helpless that I cannot defend myself from a guy like Benny Truiphant quickens my pulse. His second hand slides downward across the bare skin of my back and under my bikini bottom. He slips a finger into my crack and toys with my anus. I moan loudly as he penetrates me.
I see the Japanese girls standing just behind. They look hungry, as if impatient to have a turn of their own. The sight of their young, lithe bodies fills me with dread anticipation. What might these exotic twins have in mind for me, I wonder? What manner of erotic, oriental tortures await me? “Too many… of them…” I moan. “Too weak…
My nipples are about to explode. Ursula uncovers my left tit and proceeds to torment it with her tongue. Benny’s finger is two inches into my ass and wiggling back and forth. My body is on fire. My strength is gone and I am almost destroyed.
“Mustn’t give up… Must try… to escape…”
There is still some bit of the super-heroine inside me. My mind is almost completely swallowed by the Sartak but I am not finished just yet. I raise my hands and place them on Ursula’s shoulders. I clench my fingers into fists and extend my thumbs. I try my best to ignore the sensations rocking my body. I grit my teeth and force my mind to set aside the sexual imagery that is ravaging it. I focus on one thing. I focus on escape.
I lift my hands and position them at the sides of Ursula’s head. My thumbs dig into the soft indentations behind her ears. She releases my nipple from between her lips and groans in misery. Her head tilts back. Pain is written across her super-model features. Her hands release me and I drop to my feet. I am so wobbly that I can barely stand but I continue to press inward on her head. She gasps and falls backward, slumping to the ground and nearly blacking out.
I am not free yet, though. Benny’s finger is still in my ass. He grabs my arm with his free hand and pulls me close to his body. He can feel how weak I am. He hand cops a feel on my breast, taking a good squeeze and causing me to sigh. I look down and watch as his fingers knead my soft flesh. For a long time I do nothing. I stand there with a pout on my lips and a dull glaze in my eyes and let him have his way with me. At last, almost when I can endure no more, I find the strength to squirm. I grab his wrist and push his hand away from my tit. The finger in my ass wiggles and nearly ends my resistance. But I have come too far. I have come too far to give up, now.
All at once, I thrust an elbow into his throat. He gags in pain and the finger comes out of my ass. The victory is brief, though. I collapse to the ground. I lie on my side and breathe heavily. Erotic sensations are raging through my athletic body. But I have to keep going. I have to win.
Benny is pissed but also turned on. My pheromones have affected him, or maybe it is just the sight of a beautiful and almost helpless super-heroine lying at his feet. Whatever the case, he is bold. He grabs my golden hair by the scalp and lifts me onto my knees. He kneels behind me and wraps his arms around my panting body. His hands smoother my breasts, stroking them roughly and ending my will to resist. I am like a limp noodle in his arms. His fingers are destroying me. They glide over my flushed skin like old pros, touching me in all the right spots. My back presses tight against his chest. My eyes are half closed. My arms dangle at my sides.
Without warning, he releases me. I wobble on shaky knees. But I know that he is still there. He is just behind me. I hear the sound of a zipper being undone. He pushes me forward onto all fours. I gasp as he roughly pulls the fabric of my costume to the side and exposes my womanhood. It only takes a moment for his cock to stiffen. He thrusts it at my wet love hole. I moan miserably as I am impaled. He gives me the full seven inches. He pulls back on my hair, lifting me back onto my knees. His pelvis grinds against my ass.
“Got you!” he whispers into my right ear.
“No…” I mutter weakly. “Won’t… let you…”
The twins join the fun. To my dismay, they kneel in front of me and lean in on my chest. They proceed to kiss and fondle my burning tits. Soft lips caress my sensitive skin. Darting tongues lap across my hard buds. Expert hands gently caress my smooth skin. One of the sisters slides a hand between my legs and patiently strokes my clit. The cock inside me does not seem to mind sharing. The hot spike of man muscle begins to slowly gyrate, dragging in and out of my aching pussy in unison with the fingers rubbing my clit.
“Ooooooohhhhh!” I moan in utter defeat. “Aaaaaahhhhhhh!”
Slowly, for the next several minutes, my once powerful body is gradually destroyed. My mind is overwhelmed by unbearable sensations. My breasts are engorged with blood and scream with every teasing caress of my attackers’ lips and tongues. My clit is swollen to its maximum size and throbbing
with excruciating pleasure. The cock filling my over-taxed pussy is devastating me. I am panting like a dog. A powerful orgasm has nearly reached its zenith within the depths of my body. “Noooooo!” I plead to unsympathetic ears. “Pleeeeeaaaasssseeee!”
The man behind me is nearly ready to blow his wad. The powerful thrusts of his pelvis are no longer slow and patient. He rocks my body time after time, plowing his fat cock deep inside me over and over again. My uninhibited moans fill the cool air of the night. The Oriental girls in front of me are touching me in ways and in places that I had never imagined were possible. Erogenous zones that I did not know exist are being explored and ravaged. I am at my limit. I cannot endure any more—
“Aaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhh!” I scream as the irresistible orgasm explodes across my tortured body. My shoulders shake. My arms stiffen. My hands clench into tight fists. “Uuuunnnngggghhhh!” A second blast of sexual energy explodes from my convulsing figure. Love juices gush across the invading shaft of my male attacker’s weapon. His own reply comes a moment later, five strong streams of hot semen that fire like bullets into my soft depths. We go limp together, my exhausted body falling back onto his, breathing heavily and still locked within his erotic embrace.
The twins torment me for a few minutes more before removing their mouths and hands from my devastated figure. They stand and take me by the arms. They lift me off of Benny and half-carry, half drag my limp body toward the car of their master. The Japanese gentleman steps close in front of me. He adjusts the stretchy fabric of my costume so that my swollen breasts are again covered. He removes an embroidered handkerchief from his shirt pocket and gently wipes the excess fluids from my ravished pussy and inner thighs. I whimper softly as he draws the cloth over my tormented clit. He lifts my chin and stares into my half-closed eyes. He nods but does not say anything. A second rag is pulled from beneath his jacket. I am dimly aware that he is opening a bottle and pouring a clear liquid into the rag. He places it over my mouth and nose. My vision blurs. Consciousness fades…