Chapter Five
Crimson Flare fought her way through the pain and despair trying to become more aware of her condition. She lay naked and defeated on the bed, only the tatters of her colourless tights still clinging to her lower body, her booted legs hanging down over the edge toward the floor. Her attacker stood between her unmoving legs. He was pressed hard against her, his member pushed deep into the humbled heroine. She felt throbbing in her sex as a result of the engorged prick that had penetrated her. She felt the pain, but the heroine was not conscious of the man who was responsible. The exhausted girl felt another, a different, pain running up her spine like a lightning bolt from the dildo Nancy had pressed into her ass. Overwhelmed by the grimness of her situation, her head rolled from side to side as she tried to clear her mind. Her dry raspy voice was barely audible, and all she could squeak out was a repeated ‘No,’ a ‘No’ that signaled both her failing attempt to prevent her rape and a denial of the event. Her petite form glistened with sweat in the poorly lit room and her hips squirmed and writhed against the mixture of pain and desire that was all she could feel. Her arms stretched out from her shoulders across the dark bedspread in a grim crucifix, and her satin gloves brushed against the coverlet, giving a faint aural element to the violence that played out before the audience that watched her degradation.
Her assailant looked down on his victim. ‘Do you remember what JoJo did?’ he asked again, this time the viciousness evident in his voice, as he sawed his member into his victim. ‘I remember what JoJo did to you.’ He shifted his weight as he spread his feet further apart, but he stumbled over the trousers that were lying around his ankles. ‘He fucked you, bitch,’ he shouted, enraged by his embarrassment, striking her across the face. ‘I was there, I know he fucked you.’ The vision of the desirable form of Mitropoulos’ Champion spread-eagle and helpless before him, penetrated by him, sent him into an orgy of spasms as he struggled to sustain the moment. Then he pulled himself up to his full height as he reached the sexual fulfillment he had sought. He arched his back and stood up on his toes as he shuddered in a mixture of bliss and exhilaration. And with each paroxysm, he gave voice to his triumph. Again and again he shouted out his victory, heaping scorn on his victim: ‘Cunt! Slut! Bitch!’
Still dazed, Crimson Flare suffered under his violence, struggling to find some means to escape this unending humiliation. As she gazed across the room, the captive heroine watched Lynn struggle to free herself from Ape’s grip. The athletic blonde girl kicked and twisted in his arms, her muffled screams buried in the crook of the huge criminal’s elbow. Lynn’s eyes alternated between squeezed tightly shut and hugely open. Tears poured down the sides of her face, a result of both her frustration at her inability to free herself and of her despair at her friend’s treatment. Ape stared, goggle-eyed, at the conquest of Crimson Flare. His strength was such that, even with the strenuous effort that Lynn, athletic as she was, put into her thrashing, he was able to maintain control over her merely by pressing his arms almost effortlessly closer to his body. This was sufficient demonstration of the heroine’s dilemma: if she should attempt to resist or to free Lynn, Lynn’s life could be forfeit. Ape’s mouth hung partly open and America’s Darling could see his tongue working around behind his teeth, like he was himself vicariously enjoying the captive heroine.
Still sitting on the bed, Nancy gloried in her triumph. The defeat of Crimson Flare was only the first step in her plan for riding with Ape Greystook to the pinnacle of power in Mitropoulos. She glanced at Ape, who was staring at the heroine with that same glazed expression that she had seen on so many faces. Why was this girl so appealing to so many men? she wondered. What was her power over them? Her gaze traveled back to the writhing form of the heroine as she struggled against her attacker and against the pain. The Champion’s small form looked totally helpless. Nancy remembered how Chan had abandoned her and how she felt when he approached Crimson Flare after the struggle against the Normans on the subway platform. She remembered when he reached out his hand to her, and gently placed his arm around her, just as he had done so many times with the redhead. Now Chan was dead and she was again in position to take power in Mitropoulos. All she had to do was control Ape. ‘Who’s next?’ she asked.
Hagood and another large fellow stepped forward.
‘No two-fer’s,’ she cautioned. ‘Five hundred each.’
Without a complaint, each handed over a wad of bills to Nancy, who took the money, rubbing her fingertips against the print, savouring the sensation of victory. She stared at Crimson Flare. How could this small, powerless figure have evoked such fear only a few weeks ago? Nancy smiled inwardly. Crimson Flare would surely die tonight. She would have her revenge. And with the end of Crimson Flare, there was nothing to stop Ape—and her!
Hagood stepped to the bed and ogled the sinuously writhing form of the masked Champion. He felt himself getting hard already. Quickly, he grabbed her dark brown hair and lifted first her head and then her body from the green coverlet. Crimson Flare moaned as her body hung loosely from Hagood’s fistful of hair. Her arms thrashed weakly, seeking the attacker. The probe shoved up her ass sent sheets of pain up her spine and the Champion of Mitropoulos visibly stiffened in his grip. Her moan was reduced to a throaty growl.
Watching the heroine dangle by her hair gave rise to a laugh from the gathered criminals. Whether it was a laugh of relief at the defeat of a hated adversary or a laugh of mockery at the indignity of an enemy was not clear. But the uproar that eventually arose sounded like a bar during a hockey game. Already, the gang noticed evidence of the first rapist’s orgasm slowly rolling down the inside of her tanned, round thigh. Dried white blotches around her mouth reminded the viewers of Ape’s degradation of America’s Darling. And the black stump protruding from her ass was all that was needed to harken back to Nancy’s toying with their victim. Crimson Flare had ceased to be a heroine; she had become their whore.
Lynn fought with all her strength to break free of Ape’s grip, but it was no use. She had struck at his arms, kicked him in the shins, wriggled and jerked her body every which way, and had failed to even loosen his hold. As she watched the unresisting Champion dangle in Hagood’s grip, Lynn again tried to scream out, but her cries were stifled by Ape’s huge arm. She wanted to urge Crimson Flare to resist her tormentors, to stand up and fight these—these men, to do the things that Lynn remembered seeing and hearing about, the things that had led her to resist the naysayers she had encountered in her own career, the things that had encouraged her to fight back, to go her own way, and trust herself. Why wasn’t Crimson Flare fighting?
Hagood easily tossed the broken Champion to the floor, near the feet of Ape, who was watching developments closely, and Lynn, who continued her struggles. Crimson Flare lay on her stomach, the black rubbery dildo protruding obscenely from her. Rolling slowly to her side, she drew her knees up slightly, in an effort to ease the pain from that penetration. But before she could complete this effort, Hagood was on her again, seizing the Dorothy Hamill-hairstyle at the back of her head and pulling the Champion up again. She was in too much pain to scream; she gave out with a weak, shocked grunt.
He dragged her to her knees and, as her arms swung uselessly at her sides, he deposited Mitropoulos’ Champion on all fours. Then he began to unzip his trousers. His friend took up a position behind her at the same time that the immense Hagood stepped in front of the heroine. ‘She won’t have a hole left,’ he said. As the trousers crumpled to the floor, the group gathered around the violated Champion sniggered once again.
Crimson’s face was toward the floor as she tried to push the pain out of her mind. Her insides raged with an unending, searing pain that began at her hips and raced, screaming, up her spine. She could barely breathe. Once again, that hand, that hand that was becoming so recognizable, grabbed a fistful of her hair. Unresisting, her masked face turned upward. Inches in front of her bloodshot green eyes, was the largest prick she had ever seen. It must be fourteen inches! Against the white noise of the pain, she vaguely heard still more laughter.
Now a slap crashed across the side of her face. Knowing what she had to do, she obediently opened her mouth to receive the massive organ.
Lynn screeched in fury, struggling anew against the bulk of her captor. She could no longer bear this treatment of the heroine. She must get free; she must somehow help her friend, her idol. The men who were attacking Crimson Flare now were generously endowed, the rapist behind her wielding an upward-curving tool that seemed wide enough to prop up a window. And the one in front of her! She had never seen anything like it! She paused involuntarily to gape at the weapons about to penetrate the Champion, then kicked and pounded in a furious flurry, all to no avail.
Ape leaned forward, staring. His own attack on Crimson Flare, it seems, had only been a prelude. What was happening now could only be described as a fully blown destruction. Hagood and his partner would, he was sure, devastate the naked warrior, end her reign of terror over Mitropoulos’ gangs, and make him the King of the Underworld. He decided that he would be the one to finish Crimson Flare. For the moment, however, he would just enjoy the spectacle. He smiled, sat back, and felt Lynn’s chest.
Nancy watched in ecstasy at what she now expected to be the end of Crimson Flare. The grin that spread across her face revealed her yellowed, uneven teeth as much as it revealed her joy. These two men would, she was sure, bring down that oh-so-perfect bitch! And they had paid her for the opportunity to do it! Ms. Heroine would pay dearly for taking Chan! It was almost a sexual thrill for the moll and she took the money and rubbed her now-receptive crotch with it. It felt like power!
Unable to resist, Crimson Flare opened her mouth and Hagood pressed his enormous organ as fully into that orifice as he could. Choking, the heroine gurgled a complaint, but resting on all fours, she sounded like a pitiable beast of burden. And even before that protest had finished, a new intrusion, this time from behind, cut her off in mid-breath. The gurgle was replaced by a weary, defeated sigh.
Hagood and his fellow both grabbed the weary warrior. Hagood found purchase with his favourite target, her short Hamill-style hair. He firmly gripped her head on either side, his left hand also enveloping her partially-buried ear. The large man who pushed his prick into her soaked and ready sex held on to the front of her hips, pulling the Champion to him firmly, her bent waist securing his hands to her.
Hagood almost came as soon as those warm lips wrapped themselves around his manhood! He had never felt any thing so soft, so exciting! When he grabbed her head and began maneuvering the helpless heroine, the stimulation increased and he knew he was already dribbling his translucent pre-cum. Crimson Flare involuntarily opened her mouth as she choked on the fluid slithing down the back of her throat. But Hagood forcefully pulled her against his hips to prevent her from expelling him. His fists, full of her dark brown tresses, tightened, sending the knuckles to white. Fighting the urge to cum too soon, he involuntarily lifted the petite form of the heroine from the floor. For five full minutes, as he held her against himself, Hagood’s ecstasy spiraled further upward by the tactile stimulation of her lips, tongue, and teeth surrounding his organ, as well as the brushing of her vinyl mask against his sweaty abdomen. Yet he continued to resist cumming, vocalising his agony and his bliss. He held her head firmly against his hips, alternately bending his knees and straightening his back, jerking her unresisting form up and down. He couldn’t believe the warmth, the sensations born of her tongue alternately pressing against and lapping the underside of his manhood and her teeth pressing down dangerously at the base of his prick. Every once in a while, he was sent even higher when her satin gloves grabbed desperately at his thighs, her fingers weakly attempting to hold him as she dangled from his grip. Once her hand grasped the back of his thigh high up into his crotch, so that the crimson satin pressed briefly against his balls from beneath and behind. At that instant he screamed and surrendered to this unbelievable range of stimuli. He came again and again, shooting his white streams directly down her throat. Her choking began almost immediately and she pushed at him, trying to avoid strangulation.
Hagood’s friend, known as Leathers, pressed himself fully into the heroine trapped between the two massive men. As he did so, his abdomen pushed the soft rubbery dildo just that much further into her pained ass. Only Hagood heard the weak grunts that emerged from the heroine as a result of this raised threshold of pain, but these sounds only further excited him as they rumbled along and through his prick, from its head to its base. Leathers heard almost nothing as his own bliss seized him. Trying to make the heroine his alone, he pulled her hips toward him, tightening his hands on her hips, pushing the dildo fully into her, tightening his prick in her, and increasing her vaginal stimulation against the head on his manhood. Oh, he had never felt anything so hot and tight against his prick! Possessing her, he began to rise from his knees taking the unresisting heroine with him. He felt the leather of her boots glide along the sides of his thighs and calves, as her reflexes responded to the multitude of sexual assaults overwhelming her, and as she sought support as she hung between the giants. Leathers felt her cunt seemingly grab and hold him as he moved the naked girl as he wished. Her twisting sex perversely gripped him, rubbing the sensitive tip all around, shooting electric bolts down the organ. For five minutes Leathers shuddered and resisted, and at the same time pressed himself deep into his victim and twisted her sex on his pole, finding new ways to magnify the charges crackling along his cock. He bent over his captive, pressing his cheek against her sweating, muscular back. He turned his head and licked the sweat and bit the soft flesh. Then, her legs shot straight out as she arched her back in response, and her soft thighs pressed against his own. No longer able to restrain himself, Leathers took a deep breath and came, long and deep, giving voice to his climax.
The men watching the spectacle saw the formerly terrifying figure of Crimson Flare, held aloft between their two comrades, lifted from the floor, alternately twisted, turned, squeezed and stretched, all the while unable to do other than accept the sexual assault in all her holes. Some laughed uproariously; even Ape and Nancy smiled at the humiliation heaped upon the ‘Champion of Mitropoulos’, who had become nothing more than a toy in their hands. Crimson Flare’s apparent helplessness encouraged even more hands to reach for wallets and pocket money. Gang members stumbled over one another to try to offer their cash to Nancy, who enjoyed the spectacle more than any other present.
Hagood and Leathers finished with their plaything, but, still trying to sustain the moment, held her, suspended, between them. Her gloved hands pawed at Hagood’s thighs, trying to find something to hold, and, failing to do so, finally simply hung toward the floor, her curled fingers brushing the carpeting. Her masked face was pushed fully into his crotch, his massive organ fully engulfed. Her body angled downward toward Leathers. The small form was wracked by a seizure of coughing and choking as she tried to expel the seed. When Hagood lifted her away from his now-reduced cock, white fluid poured from her mouth, and flowed in an unending river down her chin. Leathers lifted her from his organ and briefly held her there; Crimson Flare pulled her knees slowly up to her torso and she tried to draw herself into a ball. The black rubber dildo again became visible. Hagood and Leathers briefly looked at one another, and then simply dropped her to the floor, the carpet muffling the thud! of the beaten heroine.
As she stared at the floor directly in front of her, Crimson Flare, choking on the mass of semen that had been forced down her gullet, watched a pool of white fluid form. She felt the sticky substance drip from her chin into the puddle. She hacked, trying to expel not only the residue from her throat, but also the acrid taste of the man’s seed. The heroine felt her stomach turn, like she was on the verge of vomiting, but her body fought off the impulse. Finally, recovering, she slowly turned her head. She came face-to-face with Ape and the still-struggling Lynn. From behind her mask, she saw Lynn pounding futilely against Ape’s arms, kicking at his shins. Lynn had not given up, and continued to fight even though it was her life that Crimson Flare was trying to protect by this disgrace. But Lynn was struggling to protect her.
‘Who’s next?’ she heard Nancy say, laughter in her voice. The redhead in denim was thoroughly enjoying these moments. Here she was, on her way to her coronation as Mitropoulos’ Queen of Crime, and who should provide the last stepping stones on her way to the throne? Why that little heroine-slut, Crimson Flare! For months, every guy in every gang she had been associated with had had the hots for her. Once, during sex, one of her partners had inadvertently called her ‘Crimson’. That was back in her days banging the Savoyards, where she had first met Ape. When she had told JoJo about it, he said he understood. He understood!! That was when she had abandoned them altogether and sought out Chan. She gave Chan the best sex he had ever had; he even told her so. She had given him the idea of how to get rid of her. She had helped to set up the trap. And yet, when this goddamn slut shows up at the subway, he couldn’t wait to get next to her. Well, Chan, you’re dead, and now look at the slut! Naked, spitting up cum, beaten and degraded on the floor in front of her! She smiled broadly across the small space to Ape. ‘Who’s next?’
Crimson Flare knew that her strength, which was unimpaired, would allow her to endure this violence, that it would preserve her for more and more assaults. Her strength was a curse in that way: it allowed her to endure beatings and batterings that would have killed a normal human being. But even she, she knew, had her limits. And, looking across the room, she saw the fury and the fear in Lynn’s eyes, and the heroine understood that Lynn would be lost unless she acted. Crimson Flare must put an end to this; she must find it in herself to fight; she must restore Lynn’s sense of rectitude, that right would triumph and wrong would be punished. The humiliation of the heroine was tearing away that sense and, once lost, nothing could repair it. She also realised that she could no longer bear, unresisting, this humiliation by allowing herself to be degraded. She had had to accept this dishonour to protect Lynn; Ape and Nancy had made it very clear, that Lynn would die unless Crimson Flare surrendered herself to their wishes. And she now suffered at their hands as a result. But Lynn had not stopped fighting for her; now she would need to fight for herself. She shook her head slowly as she finally realised that this destruction of the heroine might not even save Lynn, but rather merely delay her death.
Ape’s gaze went back and forth between the broadly smiling Nancy, who waggled a fistful of cash at him, and the small unmoving figure of Crimson Flare, struggling upward from the floor almost directly in front of him. He smiled back at the girl who had set him up to be King of Mitropoulos’ Underworld. God, she was smart! She knew how to plan a heist and set a trap with equal ability. That was how Crimson Flare had got where she was. And when Nancy had grabbed blondie here—he squeezed Lynn’s breast as the thought crossed his mind—he had put the avenger at a disadvantage and forced her to surrender. Yes, Nancy was indispensable to any power he would get.
The heroine’s spine was reeling from the effects of the probe that expanded to painfully fill her ass. She straightened her legs with great effort, and she felt the searing pain shoot from the base of her spine toward her neck. America’s Darling was soaked with sweat; sweat that rolled off her toward the plush carpeting, creating a damp pool around her petite body. Crimson Flare sought to place her hands beneath her so that she could push herself upward. But pain and rape had disoriented her and she had to feel about her for the floor, which seemed to be in continual motion under her. When she finally managed to press herself into an upright position, the sheet of pain that enveloped her forced an exhausted shriek from her. The dildo was now fully pressed into her, tearing at the insides of the Champion.
The scream of pain brought Ape’s attention back to the small figure on the floor. God, he wanted her again! He remembered how it felt to be inside her, how she looked when he had her down on her knees in front of him—Man, he had Crimson Flare giving him head, on her knees! That’s what real power looks like! Well, he’d wait for one more before he took her again, and this time he’d make sure everybody knew that she was his bitch! His kit had all the things necessary for that. He pictured the masked Champion wearing his collar, his brand, and spending her time just waiting for him. God, that was heaven! That unbelievable bitch as his slut-in-waiting. With her under control, he would have all the power, and he didn’t need to share it. Sharing was for suckers! Why should he? With this slut doing what he wanted, why did he need Nancy any more?
The masked Champion of Women drew two quick, deep breaths, and felt strength return to her body. Blinking the sweat and tears from her eyes, Crimson Flare saw yet another gang member approaching her, his hands forward, as if he were about to pick up a wandering baby. Looking past him she saw Nancy, staring at Ape with a wide grin across her face. Nearby, Ape also grinned, but his was marked by a combination of lust and nervousness. They were thoroughly enjoying her defeat. As she tensed her muscles to finally resist and respond, currents of pain again coursed up her spine. However much she wished to show these criminals the power she and Stacy had marshaled for Good, she couldn’t fight them in her current condition! The pain, the pain, was simply too great. She turned inward, seeking solace, but the heroine was quickly reminded of her predicament when a new pair of hands grabbed her and pulled her upward. As her body unfolded, the pain, waiting like an alert wolf, fell over her again. She moaned in agony.
Her new antagonist was younger than the others who had raped the heroine. But behind his baby face, she saw the eyes of a killer. She saw his mouth moving as he pulled her toward him, but the words were indistinct. Teeth bared like a vicious animal, he appeared ready to tear her limb from limb in a sadistic frenzy.
Nancy had taken the money from Seeley, called Brew by the others at the frequent keggers; his high capacity for alcohol was the main reason for the nickname, and he was everyone’s friend, but the redhead knew that his child-like appearance and ready, empty-headed grin belied a cruelty that was rarely matched. Crimson Flare’s groans were weaker and less frequent now, she thought, and she wouldn’t last more than one or two more assaults. It might be wiser to choose some of the men who were less rough at this point, so that she would last longer, and more money might be made. Brew probably should wait until he only had the dead body to play with, for he was notorious, even among his fellows, for his destructive lovemaking. But many of the gang wanted to see him handle the masked beauty. They all knew of his fixation on her, how he cut photos of the crimefighter out of the paper and would lie in bed at night pawing the pictures. Even this modest perversity would raise an erection, they could tell, but the kidding had stopped immediately after he had hurled one jokester through the second-floor window.
Crimson made no attempt to defend herself as Brew easily picked her up. Her body fell against his like a puppet with its strings cut, and, even in her numbed state, the heroine could tell he was already responding. As her head rested on his shoulder, she turned her face slowly, painfully, to him, breathing into his ear, ‘Take… it out. Take me… there.’ Brew straightened up and lifted her from his chest. He stared at her for a moment, his mouth hanging open, and dropped his eyes toward her hips, where he stared at her thighs writhing erotically. She moaned weakly.
Before anyone could stop him, Brew plopped Crimson Flare on the floor on her stomach. The intense pain that was audible in her groan clearly told everyone of her helplessness. He lifted her hips, so that her ass was directly in front of him, and then plucked at the tip of the soft black tool that protruded from inside her, seeking a fingerhold on the implement.
When Nancy saw Brew begin to pull the dildo from inside the heroine, she rose from the bed. ‘Wait. No, you can’t…’ she sputtered.
‘I paid,’ he said simply. ‘I can do whatever I want.’
The watching gang members, and even Ape, raised their voices in support of Brew’s desire. They knew that Crimson Flare was beaten, that she would die while servicing them. Why not have all of her holes available? Nancy looked around, concerned. When she saw the unanimity of sentiment to remove the dildo, to allow Brew to fuck her in the ass, she backed off; as if trying to soothe the anger aroused by her temerity she simply said, ‘OK, OK!’ and tried to soothe their anger by slowly moving her hands, palms downward, as if patting a large imaginary sheep.
But, instead of returning to her seat on the bed, she edged toward the door, still holding the wad of cash.
Crimson Flare could feel Brew beginning to find success in removing the dildo. She could feel its rough surface pull slowly from her ass; she felt the pressure it had created inside her lessen as it emerged, bit by tiny bit at first, from her; when enough of the grotesque implement was available for the gang member to get a good grasp on it, she felt it ripped from her insides, replacing the steady, throbbing pain with a shaper, briefer blindness. Released from the confines of the heroine’s anus, the soft rubber stretched to its original sixteen-inch length, wobbling and drooping in Brew’s hand like a stick of Jell-O. As the pain slowly diminished, the Champion of Mitropoulos involuntarily dropped her hips to the floor, partly in relief. But Brew was just starting with her.
He sidled up next to the prone heroine, his heroine, and wrapped his arm around her naked shoulders, as if seeking to calm the quivering that had taken over her body. Easily, almost gently (a surprise after the tearing withdrawal of the dildo), he rolled her onto her back, even as he gazed at the contours of her body, a body he had longed to touch for as long as he could remember. He brushed his hand across her chest, and he squeezed the pink nipples that crowned her pert breasts. With the constant pain inside her now gone, the sexual part of her ordeal became more pronounced.
‘Aaaaahhhhh—ggghhhh!’ she breathed, almost inaudibly.
With her eyes closed, she imagined herself somewhere else, somewhere away from this Hell. But escape was quickly closed off when Crimson felt the rubbery shaft that had recently impaled her flopping, rubbing, back and forth, beneath her nose. The odor—her odor—wafted up, penetrating her dream of freedom.
In her ear, Brew whispered, ‘Open your mouth, baby!’
The removal of the dildo had taken with it the agony that had prevented Crimson Flare from effectively resisting her attackers. She had been forced to surrender because she feared for what might happen to Lynn, and she knew that, impaled as she was, she would be unable to fight back or to rescue her friend. As a result she had been repeatedly raped and assaulted by members of the gang that Ape was creating. The heroine hoped to turn the tables on her enemies, to use her speed and strength to save her friend and remove both of them from their captivity. But the repeated attacks had taken their toll. She needed time to recuperate from the penetrations, the brutality, and the beatings she had absorbed. Now, lying on her back, her chest rose and fell spastically. The man next to her was already trying to stimulate her again, playing with her breasts and nipples, and to continue her degradation, ordering her to suck the dildo removed from her anus. Her ragged breathing combined with a retching from her stomach at the same time as the desire to fight back rose in the battered young woman. But, still too weak to resist, Crimson Flare complied with Brew’s order and she felt the harsh taste of her own body press down on her tongue. She puffed out her cheeks in an effort to lessen the intensity, but Brew quickly used the thumb and fingers of his other hand to compress the bellows and to wrap her mouth unwillingly around the awful instrument.
As he drew the dildo like a saw in and out of her mouth, she heard the laughter and cheers that this inspired in the audience watching her continuing humiliation. The heroine shut her eyes in an effort to close out the vile, distorted faces she could see ranging behind her attacker. ‘Give the slut a reaming she’ll never forget,’ she heard one watcher say. Another shouted, ‘Kill the fuckin’ bitch!’ ‘Give the superbitch a cum chaser, Brew!’ All of the faces that she could see were fixed on hers, enjoying the Champion’s disgrace.
Brew looked around at the wide-eyed faces as they urged him to continue Crimson Flare’s shame. A wide, stupid grin stretched across his own countenance, and he pushed the dildo ever deeper into the heroine’s mouth. With his free hand, his fingers traced the contours of Crimson Flare’s breast, tweaking the nipple, forcing it to become harder under his ministrations; but as he became more excited at the touch, he began to mash the small tit against her chest, lessening her stimulation, much to his chagrin. Brew swung his leg over her supine form, so that he was now straddling the poor girl, forcing the bitter, choking dildo in and out of her mouth, faster and faster. Her breathing, still ragged, accelerated as he sawed in and out; at the same time, he bounced up and down on his haunches as he sat on her stomach. The lusty cheers of the men gathered ’round became louder and louder. They cheered as their colleague ‘rode’ the heroine, drawing faint grunts from her each time her rebounded onto her midsection.
As he became more excited, Brew finally released the dildo and turned his attention to his waist, where he tore at his belt in a supreme effort to remove his pants as quickly as he could. He fell to the floor and onto his back with a heavy thunk! and raised his legs as he wriggled, twisted, and cursed trying to remove his tight-fitting jeans. As they passed over his knees, he seemed to get even more excited and his aroused manhood came clearly into view. But his heavy boots blocked an easy removal and he fought anew to get the heavy cloth over the dull leather. He rolled from side to side, squirming and tugging. The laughter that had been aimed at the heroine found a new target, and the gang guffawed at Brew who, frustrated, seemed on the verge of cumming even before he had penetrated America’s Darling.
Crimson Flare pulled the foul-tasting implement from her mouth and tossed it aside. As her stomach heaved, she saw three gang members rush for the corner to retrieve the dildo. Whether it would be used again on the heroine or if it were intended only as a souvenir, only time would tell. Slowly, she pulled herself upward into a position where she was supported on her elbows, her lower body and legs extended. She was conspicuously aware of her nakedness, and she glanced down at the bush of dark brown hair covering her private parts, with the torn and tattered tights hanging on by mere threads around her lower body. She felt herself flush as she thought of all these men who had been gazing at her. But, just then, the heroine felt another rush of strength and knew that she was almost fully rejuvenated. Her breathing was steady and even, her eyes were clear; the muscle spasms that had resulted from the rapes and battering she had undergone had all but disappeared. She saw Lynn, still struggling, weaker now, against Ape’s grip that held her against his chest.
Brew was still struggling with his jeans, somewhere between sitting upright and sprawling across the floor, but his body had placed itself almost next to the Champion’s powerful legs. And the audience watched him—not her—with rapt attention.
Her kick knocked Brew out with a single blow. Twisting at the waist, and using the floor to provide leverage, Crimson Flare brought a powerful boot against the side of his head. The sound of her polished leather striking his thick skull echoed through the library. In a single graceful movement, her svelte body followed the arc of that movement, and she was on her feet in less time than it takes to tell. Glistening with sweat, her naked form rushed at the next nearest gang member, whose surprise at the attack would be all he could remember. The powerful heroine seized his near leg and she pulled, dropping him on his back. Crimson Flare then easily lifted him by the same leg, she whirled once, and sent his insensate form into a small circle of gang members; the force of his body scattered the men, throwing two of them violently against the wall behind them, and knocking two more to the floor, one of them pinned under the dead weight of the projectile.
The residue of pain was almost completely forgotten when the transformed heroine launched her attack. She sensed herself growing stronger with each exertion, for she now turned on Ape himself and, seeing that he was staring wide-eyed at the speed and strength the Champion now manifested and continued to only absent-mindedly hold Lynn in front of him, Crimson flashed across the space and pulled the athletic blonde from Ape’s loose grip.
You have to get out of here,’ Crimson Flare told her friend. ‘Get home as quickly as you can. I’ll meet you there.’
‘My van is parked behind the Dairy Queen sign at the highway. I’ll wait a few minutes for you.’
‘No! Go! Don’t--’
At that instant Crimson Flare was grabbed by several pairs of hands as the criminals mounted a counterattack. Lynn realised that she indeed had to flee before she could again be used as a hostage against the Champion of Mitropoulos. Protected by the fighting heroine, in a flash she was out the same window through which she had entered the room. But she paused before heading for her van. Through the glass she saw Crimson Flare, almost effortlessly, tossing aside the bodies of her enemies. Secure in the knowledge of the heroine’s eventual escape, she turned and raced as fast as she could for the gated entry.
Crimson Flare stole a few glances as her friend disappeared into the darkness behind the house. The distraction worked against her as yet another band of gang members fell on her, this time knocking her form to the library carpet. Clutching hands grabbed at her sweating body, tearing away the last remnants of the already ragged tights that had failed to cover her in any effective way. She rolled, kicking one gang member off her only to have another man hook her throat in the crook of his arm, pulling her upward from behind as she lay on her back struggling against the small mound of attackers.
He was strong, and as the heroine broke free of one gang member after another, she felt the pressure on the sides of her throat increasing. Finally, freed from all of her enemies except the single attacker from behind, Crimson Flare pushed herself the remaining way to her feet; then, before her attacker could set his own legs under him, the athletic Champion bent at the waist, lifting him onto her back, and she simultaneously twisted her shoulders. The force of the movement threw the leather-clad gang member across her shoulders and he smashed to the floor in front of her. Crimson Flare straightened herself and looked down at the dazed attacker as well as the rest of the bodies strewn on the carpet around her. She smiled. Almost unaware of her nakedness, she rolled her shoulders and flexed the muscles in her upper arms, which incidentally also led her breasts to sit more erect on her chest, the nipples protruding noticeably. It was this unconscious sort of flexing that had made her the sexual ideal of so many males in Mitropoulos.
Now to gather up my uniform and get out of here! she thought. She quickly covered the short distance to the torn sequined costume lying on the floor. Surveying the mass of moving and unmoving bodies, she bent to pick it up. At that instant, the room disappeared in a flash of red and yellow light, and Crimson Flare dropped to the floor, still trying to grasp her tattered uniform. She felt her body unceremoniously yanked to a standing position and her arms pinned behind her back in a double chicken wing. Bright, coloured dots of light flashed in front of her eyes; everything else seemed to be covered in a dark mist and she could only discern vague shapes moving in front of her.
The flashes disappeared as a heavy blow smashed against the side of Crimson Flare’s jaw, twisting her head violently to the right. But even before she could focus on what was happening, another powerful blow sapped her strength when it crashed into her diaphragm. Desperately trying to get her breath, she heard a sinister hissed laughter coming from behind her.
Another punch smashed directly into her jaw. The Champion of Mitropoulos could taste blood in her mouth. Through unfocussed eyes, she could not see her attacker, but she knew that his strength would eventually wear down her might. She felt a second pair of hands, and then a third, grab her from behind, restraining the powerful heroine.
‘Super-bitch!’ shouted a voice in front of her, just before still another crashing blow twisted her head on her neck. Her arms were held straight outward from her shoulders now, with several opponents trying to secure the powerful Champion from behind.
Her vision was clearing. She could now see that it was Hagood who stood in front of her. His lips curled into a menacing smile. ‘America’s Darling, my ass,’ she heard him say. ‘When we’re finished with you, there ain’t gonna be no guy who’ll want to look at you.’ He unleashed a series of hard blows against Crimson Flare’s tight stomach, each one powerful enough to rip through to her spine. By the fifth blow, her muscles had softened enough to drag a dry, desperate gasp from the restrained heroine. Two more and her knees buckled under her.
‘Ullllgggh!’ she groaned.
Her head hung down toward her chest, and she felt him grab her short hair once more, just as he had done during his rape. Helpless, she watched as he drew back his massive fist. He stopped it just short of his ear and, as he looked down on the petite Champion of Mitropoulos, he whispered, ‘Nighty-night, cunt!’ The blow struck her squarely between the eyes and practically lifted her off the floor.
The gang members who were holding her let Crimson Flare fall to the carpet. She lay there, still conscious, trying to move. Her naked body seemed totally vulnerable to their attack. The helpless heroine rolled onto her back, her perfectly round thighs spreading invitingly to the men who had beaten her. Hagood took a step forward, standing now between her legs. Slowly, he undid his belt in anticipation of satisfying his lust again. His erect manhood announced his readiness.
Crimson Flare’s black leather boot smashed into Hagood’s crotch. He squealed like a barnyard animal and dropped heavily to his knees, tears rolling down his cheeks. He stared wide-eyed at the beautiful girl who had brought him down, his mouth agape, as if he could not believe that she would do this to him. His knees had just touched the library carpet when a side swipe by her other boot smashed against the side of his head, sending his insensate tumbling form across the room.
America’s Darling was on her feet in no time. Her vision was blurred by her most recent beating, and she could not yet focus on any of the remaining gang members who were beyond a relatively small radius. But her strength and readiness intimidated those who remained there.
Shaking her head to clear away the fog, she was surprised to find herself alone. Even Ape had deserted the scene of battle. When she looked at her left hand, she noticed that she still held her sequined, tattered uniform.
Well, she thought, it’s better than nothing at all.
She pulled it over her petite form, the ragged cuts at her crotch exposing her most private area to the draft coming from the open window through which Lynn had fled moments earlier. Her colourless tights had disappeared from around her fabulous legs, the bare skin shining, sweaty, in the room’s dim light.
In a moment she followed Lynn’s path through the darkness and toward the gate.
Nancy walked into the library and stared, almost unbelieving, at the unconscious figures still scattered around the floor. One girl had done this! One little girl! That slut, Crimson Flare! What do I have to do--?
Never again, she told herself. How many times had Crimson Flare blocked her path to the power that was rightfully hers? Now she had humiliated Ape—and her! Ape would have to be rehabilitated and the gang made his again, of course. But she knew that she would meet that superbitch again.
‘Next time I’ll kill you,’ Nancy said quietly.
End of Chapter Five