‘I don’t entirely understand what happened.’ Karen sat in the bathtub, still exhausted, soap bubbles covering her battered form almost to her throat, with her head back. She dabbed her face with a soaked washcloth. The heat from the water was palpable. The heroine hoped it would relieve the physical destruction her body had absorbed at the hands of Ape and his gang, as a mist gave rise to wisps of steam floating upward from the bubble bath. Sweat streamed down the sides of her face, as the recovering Maid of Mitropoulos tried to gather her wits and her vigor to assess how she had come so close to her final defeat. ‘I couldn’t… no, I wouldn’t fight back for some reason.’
‘You were worried about what might happen to me,’ Lynn said, sitting on the edge of the tub, her hand dangling into bubbles, stirring them. ‘I never should have followed you in there.’
‘That wasn’t the problem. I had already been captured and bound. What I discovered….’ And here she sat up and sank her hand back beneath the bubbles, her eyes looking deep into space. Her eyes widened as she seemed to realise the truth she was about to reveal. ‘What I discovered… was….’
Lynn looked anxiously at her friend. Most of the bruises that had been so pronounced on her face only a short while earlier were already faded, and only small reminders of the clash were visible. How was she able to recover physically so quickly? Could a body that eroded evidence of the sort of battering that she had taken tonight fully recover if the scars didn’t linger to remind her of the dangers waiting for her? What was the psychological effect of this kind of recuperation? Would it only make Crimson Flare more reckless?
‘What I discovered… was… that… I liked it.’
‘Liked what?’
‘The sexual violation. The rape. I wanted it to continue. Even before you were captured, I discovered that I liked being tied up. I could feel the strength in me and I liked flexing and pressing against the ropes, knowing that I couldn’t break them. And I didn’t want them to break. I felt a tingling inside as I thought about what the bondage did to me, the powerlessness. My uniform has never felt so sexy as when I felt it press taut against my body—every part of my body—when I was helpless. The uniform, a symbol of my strength, my power became … what? It became just a stimulus for me to enjoy a certain kind of sexuality. I couldn’t believe the feeling. Then, when they caught you, and I was forced to take off my costume, I found that even that—I wasn’t bound but the threat to you forced me to surrender to them—was enough to stir me inside in the same way. I liked being powerless. What kind of heroine enjoys being taken captive and having her best friend held as a hostage? It used to be that the strength was the stimulus; it gave me a kind of euphoria. But this time I felt myself sexually stirred by being powerless.’
Lynn sat open-mouthed, her hand still absently stirring the soap. Karen continued, ‘Nancy said that Chan had….’ Here she paused for a long time, trying to remember what Nancy had whispered to her during the nadir of her defeat.
‘She said that Chan had destroyed me. She said that… she had figured out that I had my strength because I was a virgin and that the way to destroy me was through my first orgasm. So… Chan planned my capture by the Normans; he weakened me by getting me dependent on drugs; and when I finally came during the battle with the Normans at the subway platform….’ Karen began to feel a heaviness in her chest, like she was about to burst into tears as she realised that the dreams she and Stacy had had for Crimson Flare’s role as a defender of Good were in danger. She caught her breath. ‘…When I came, and my strength was finally freed, my body discovered a craving for sex.’
‘I saw that you weren’t fighting back against the gang. I thought that it was because you didn’t want anything to happen to me.’
‘That was why I surrendered,’ Karen said thoughtfully, smiling at her friend, ‘not why I stopped resisting their rapes. But I also saw that you never stopped fighting against Ape—’
‘I hit him with all my strength and didn’t even faze him. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. It was like he could snap my back by flexing his biceps.’
‘That kind of strength made him one of JoJo’s most effective enforcers. I guess, from what he told me, JoJo sent him over on a drug deal that went bad. He said he was in a Colombian prison.
‘But—’ Karen again paused. ‘You fought. You tried to help me. But I didn’t want to be helped. I didn’t….’ Tears started to well up in her eyes. ‘My body enjoyed being raped. Oh, god, I enjoyed it!’
Lynn jumped in, unsure of what she could say that would calm her friend. ‘Wait a minute, Karen. Let’s try to figure this out. You’ve always said that Stacy would look at things rationally and help you—help Crimson Flare—out of whatever bind she was in.
‘Before you came for the first time, you had complete control over your strength and your body, right?’
‘Right.’
‘But now, when you get into a struggle you don’t have the same kind of control?’
‘Well, I managed to help you to escape, and to escape myself. But it took a total concentration of my mind on what I was doing physically. I had to push aside my… urges and… focus on using my strength for the purpose at hand. When that big guy, Hagood, I think they called him, had me on my back, after you had escaped, I couldn’t wait for him to push himself into me. It took an act of conscious will; I had to consciously fight back, rather than just act spontaneously. But, it was strange; I didn’t want to stop him. I just decided to do it and get out of there’
‘If you had let down your guard, what do you think would have happened?’
‘Like I said, I would have let him…’ she paused before she said the word, ‘fuck… me and I would have enjoyed it. They could have all taken me, I wouldn’t have cared.’
Lynn sighed as she thought about this revelation. ‘And Nancy said she figured this out?’
‘Yes. She said she told Chan how to defeat me. I suspect it has to do with a new balance of hormones following my first orgasm, or something like that.’
‘Could it also have to do with the drugs?’
‘I don’t think so. I kicked the habit pretty easily, thanks to my physical strength. But when Chan got me back to my place after the battle, he seemed primed to have non-stop sex. However… since I was pretty upset about Stacy, I shut him out. He seemed angry.’
‘There’s something! He expected you to have sex with him and you rejected him—because… you were emotionally upset about the loss of Stacy. This has to be where the answer is. Let me talk to a couple of my professors over at Hutson University. Maybe they can explain what’s happened.’ She brushed her hand across the soaked shoulders of her friend.
‘Oooohhh, goo-ooodddd, L-lynnn,’ Karen breathed, her quivering body reflected in her voice. Her bare arms rose from the soap and wrapped themselves around her athletic, blonde friend. Karen then pulled her fully clothed ally into the tub. Lynn squealed in surprise, and then her voice gave rise to chuckles of delight.
Nancy knew it would be days before Ape would control the gang again. When the leader of a gang is beaten, he has to prove all over again that he’s superior to all opponents—it’s the rule of the jungle: the Alpha-Male must continuously reassert his supremacy, most especially when he has been challenged. Ape didn’t help things much when he was among the first who disappeared from the library once that Crimson Bitch started manhandling the gang. His flight was the major source of comment for hours afterward, especially when Hagood’s body was carried out, still alive, but obviously seriously injured. If only Ape had also been hurt….
How did that slut escape? All of the signs indicated that she had been beaten. She had stopped fighting back, she seemed to be seeking the sex, the men who were lined up were all bigger than she was. She should have just taken it! Somehow, she had fought back.
It started with Brew’s decision to remove the dildo. Nancy knew that trouble would erupt as soon as Brew decided that he wanted to fuck her in the ass. That dildo was there for a purpose: not for the pain it caused, though Nancy was sure that was considerable. No, it was a distraction. Crimson Flare would not be able to fight back as long as that tool was working on her hips and, by extension, her spine. Even if she wanted to resist, and tried to fight back, the numbers of gang members Ape could draw on would overwhelm her because she would not be able to focus all of her attention on her attackers. But only as long as she was impaled on that thing! Remove it, and she’s as strong as ten of them!
Her eyes wandered across the library’s landscape. Three men had been killed, Hagood, Brew, and one other were injured, Hagood probably out for more than a month. That bitch had kicked his nuts up to his Adam’s Apple and he may be finished with the gang altogether. Ape had been shamed, but he was still stronger than any other contender. She would see to it that he was restored to his position. Her brains and his brawn were an unbeatable team. She’d just have to make it clearer to that poor dope that her brains were indispensable to any success he wanted. And she couldn’t leave him alone again!
She saw something under the folds in the coverlet on the bed, something shining. Highly polished black leather. It was Crimson Flare’s belt! And, still seated in the holster, was that electronic weapon of hers—what was it?—the ‘baton’. Slowly she unsheathed the baton from its seat. It didn’t look like much, a circular rod maybe a foot long, and at most two inches in diameter. It looked like it telescoped.
Nancy whipped her wrist and the ‘baton’ extended to its full two-and-a-half foot length. But as it did so, a small electric charge burnt a hole in the dark green bedspread. Nancy pressed her face close to the spot, examining the effects of the weapon. Then she stood erect. ‘Hhmm-mmh.’ She whipped the device a second time and she saw a spark shoot out from its tip, reaching toward the bedpost.
She fingered Crimson Flare’s ‘baton’. Maybe if I can figure out how this works… she mused.
Karen lay naked in bed, the tension finally relieved. The bout of heavy sex had started in the bathtub as Karen literally tore Lynn’s clothes off, and then their two soaking bodies had moved from the tub to the bathroom floor, the bedroom floor, and finally the bed itself. Lynn had placed a line of towels along the route of ecstasy.
As Lynn stood over her exhausted friend, she smiled and said, ‘I’ll have to remind myself that you were in the grip of an irresistible force.’
‘I have to find some way to control what’s happening to me. I can’t take much more.’ She paused. ‘That’s what Nancy was counting on. She knew about what had happened to me. She expected me to be…’ she still had trouble saying it, ‘fucked to death, not to resist the attacks. That almost happened.’
‘She may figure Crimson Flare is no longer a problem, that the craving will prevent her from being effective. She’s a smart criminal, and that means she’s dangerous.’ Lynn was very serious now. ‘She’s smart and she’s hooked up with Ape Greystook.’
A sudden realisation struck Karen. ‘Ape still has my baton.’
‘Huh?’
‘When I escaped, I left my baton behind. They had taken it from me when they captured me.’
‘But you said that you’re the only one who can control it.’
‘It’s not easy to control, but even JoJo was handling it modestly well after only a short time. He gave me a pretty good shock with it when they caught me at their warehouse on the river. We know that Nancy’s smart. She could figure out how to handle it.’
‘Will the power source run out? Maybe they won’t be able to use it by the time they figure out…’
‘No,’ Karen said, looking very serious. ‘It’s got a renewable source, kind of like a series of solar cells. Even if it runs down, in fifteen minutes it will be back to full power.’
‘Can you get another one? You may have to fight fire with fire to get it back.’
‘That was the one thing Stacy didn’t tell me. I think this was a one-of-a-kind.’
A week later, the first of what would be a series of break-ins showed that Ape’s gang had indeed mastered Crimson Flare’s baton. Mitropoulos’ largest diamond dealer had their delivery entrance, a heavy, reinforced steel door, locked for the night, shattered by a bolt from Crimson Flare’s weapon. The metal door had been singed and the force of the baton’s charge had left a gaping hole where the lock used to be. The weapon’s mark was not unfamiliar, but the police discounted Crimson Flare as a suspect. They believed that a criminal band had somehow secured a copy of the baton and were using it for their own ends.
For the next three nights, the baton was used in three more robberies. In the meantime, Crimson Flare had not been seen. Karen feared taking on any opponent, particularly one who might be working for Nancy and Ape, who might be able to take advantage of her new weakness. For her part, Nancy knew that the heroine was not gone for good. Ape, on the other hand, was convinced they had defeated her. He wanted to become even more reckless in the crime spree.
At the same time, Lynn had spoken with Professors Brayfield and Shea at Hutson University regarding the problem Chan and Nancy had invested on Crimson Flare. Trying to be discrete, Lynn had revealed little about the origins of her inquiry. The Professors, experts in the field of biochemistry and psychology, were curious about the source of their former student’s inquiry. Lynn was known to be working with some of Mitropoulos’ at-risk teenagers in the program she had begun and which the University helped to fund. Lynn convinced them that the source was nothing more than a unique condition she had encountered with a young woman in the program. They offered advice about possible solutions, but they could not offer any guarantees. They also offered warnings about the possible consequences of their solutions. Meanwhile, Karen divided her time between home and her job at the hospital. She discovered that work was a satisfactory distraction.
‘I know where they’ll be tonight,’ Karen said softly to Lynn. ‘They’re taunting me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The targets have been places where Crimson Flare has prevented robberies in the past. The diamond dealer was the first time I became known to the public. The clothing store was the second. They’re hitting stores in the order that I stopped robberies in the past.’
Karen’s face showed deep concern about confronting Ape and Nancy again. Her eyes were downcast as she thought about taking up her role as Crimson Flare. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing became irregular. She chewed her lower lip and, finally, raised her eyes to see her friend walking across the apartment toward her. Lynn embraced the small brunette and felt her quivering. Karen fell against the athletic blonde, no longer able to stand.
When Lynn looked into her face again, tears were rolling down Karen’s cheeks. ‘I’m so frightened, Lynn. I don’t want to go out there,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if I can defend myself, much less prevent the crimes that they’re planning.’ As soon as she had said this, Lynn felt a surge pass through the petite form of her friend. She took a deep breath and pulled herself up straight. ‘But… I can’t just throw away what Stacy and I wanted Crimson Flare to be. She had to be a symbol of courage and strength. I’ve got to take them on. I’ve got to get my baton back. And for the past three nights, I’ve been hiding. I’ve known where they would be and I let them commit their crimes.’ She turned and walked into her bedroom. In a moment, Crimson Flare emerged.
Crimson Flare watched as Ape’s troops moved toward the front door of Venable Furs. She immediately recognised the form of the denim-clad redhead who had tormented her so thoroughly when she had last confronted the criminal gang lord. The petite heroine set her jaw, but was taken briefly aback as she placed her hands on her hips, unconsciously feeling for her belt and baton, only to re-discover their absence. As she watched Nancy walk confidently to the entrance, whipping the two-and-a-half foot baton to its full length, she realised that the criminal had indeed mastered the weapon. The short jabbing stroke unleashed a blast that almost tore the door off its hinges. ‘She’s doing that for my benefit,’ America’s Darling thought to herself.
She saw the four members of the gang move inside, leaving one to guard the entrance. Crimson Flare moved toward the guard, using the shadows of surrounding buildings as shelter. As she watched the blonde sentry, she could tell he was nervous, perhaps even frightened. He had probably been warned that the masked crimefighter would be out tonight and that his responsibilities would be heavy. Perhaps, she thought, as she used her great speed to close the distance between them, so too would his punishment if he didn’t provide a warning to Nancy and her cronies.
A single blow to his temple and the sentinel was removed. There would be no warning.
As she prepared to enter the store, the Champion of Mitropoulos placed a pebble-sized piece of shaped plastic beneath her cowl, into the triangular fossa of her right ear. This was one of the possible solutions offered by the Hutson University professors. Under a set of predetermined circumstances, it was programmed to periodically give off a small electric charge, not enough to harm, but sufficient to distract Crimson Flare’s attention from any sexual attack being made on her, and thus allow her to regain control of her situation.
Quickly, now, she moved to the entrance, opened the door only far enough for her to squeeze her small body through, and disappeared inside.
Outside, the unconscious guard lay motionless.
Inside, it was quiet and still. Emergency lighting allowed the Champion of Women to move quickly to the refrigerator storage areas in the rear, steering clear of crowded counters and displays in the small sales area of Venable’s. When she reached the curtain separating the front from the rear areas, Crimson Flare pressed herself against the wall and warily peered past the divider, seeking her prey.
There was one figure, a muscular gang member with a shaven head and black denim standing a few feet from her, gazing impatiently down the dim hallway; it seemed he might be waiting for his fellows, the way he shifted his weight anxiously from one foot to the other. The Champion of Mitropoulos listened intently for the gang’s return and, hearing nothing, threw aside the curtain and rushed at the shocked figure.
‘Wha--!’ was all he was able to utter before her fist crashed into his abdomen. The wind rushed from him in a Whooosh, his eyes popped from his head, and he silently gagged, desperately trying to find a life-giving breath. A second fist smashed against the side of his face and he dropped to the carpet like a felled tree.
Crimson easily pulled him behind some nearby crates and cartons, then moved carefully in the direction she had seen him gazing. The heroine didn’t hear a sound as she approached the first of the refrigerated storage vaults.
The door was slightly ajar, but it was clear that there was no one inside. From the careless way the handle lay abutting the lock, it appeared that, having summarily glanced inside, the gang decided that there was nothing that interested them there, and they simply pushed the door shut. It had, simply, failed to close all the way.
Just to be on the safe side, Crimson Flare pressed herself against the wall next to the door and eased it open. A rush of very cold air slapped the bare areas of skin, sharpening the heroine’s awareness. Tension made her visibly shiver. But there was neither sound nor shadow of movement inside, and the Champion returned the door to its original condition. Outside the next storage area, about ten yards farther along the hallway, she saw a small stack of furs, crushed, as if whoever had pulled them from their racks had been unconcerned about either their value or their condition on delivery; Crimson could tell that they were only the finest and most expensive. Though the door to the locker was pulled completely shut, the Champion was convinced that she found her quarry. As she turned to face the door, she heard it unlatch and open.
Out came one of Ape’s goons, his arms piled high with more of the costly adornments for the crème de la crème of Mitropoulos’ society. They were stacked so high he could not see over the load, once the locker door had opened and he found himself in the dim hallway. He hummed to himself as he staggered through the door, searching for the pile he had begun earlier. He was happy in his work.
Crimson Flare used her great speed and strength to bring his haul for this night to an end. Smashing a heavy double-ax-handle down on the base of his skull, he collapsed on top of the loot he had gathered, hitting the floor without a sound.
‘Two to go,’ the Champion of Mitropoulos thought to herself. She rolled the unconscious hoodlum beneath the pile of furs, and then peered down the darkened hall.
The red ‘Exit’ sign over the fire door was the only source of illumination. Its glow did little other than provide direction; it was too dim to brighten the darkness over those last dozen-or-so yards to the back wall. Crimson Flare could see no furniture, not even a chair, or a coat rack, or—nothing along the hallway. The dark emptiness looked menacing in the red glow. To the right, the metal door to the third, and last, refrigeration unit waited, in this case, like the first cell, slightly ajar. The crimson-clad Maiden of Mitropoulos moved smoothly to the door, the sequins of her costume flickering in the dim light. Knowing that she faced only two remaining opponents gave her a confidence she had not felt since the evening began. She filled her lungs to prepare for a possible combat with these final adversaries. As she did so, she felt a sexual tingling: the smooth sensation of her costume against her skin raised an awareness of her power and sensuality in her. She felt like a superheroine! The Champion of Mitropoulos!
Again, she pressed her body against the wall next to the door and slipped her gloved hand into the tiny crack provided between door and frame. With a flick of her fingers, the door slipped open, and the brighter light from inside filled the dark space in the hall. The cold air from inside the locker enveloped her body. The Champion of Mitropoulos flexed her muscles, sensing combat was at hand. When she peered inside, she saw the two remaining criminals busily at work.
Nancy glanced up first, and, when she saw the heroine framed by the entry, she smiled. ‘Hello, dear. What kept you?’
The redhead, who seemed perpetually garbed in denim, dropped the ermine stoles she held and stood erect. ‘I really expected you would show up last night. Please don’t tell me you’ve been hiding.’
The words stung Crimson Flare. ‘I’m not afraid of your kind. And now you’re going to jail.’ He formed her gloved hands into fists and nestled them on top of her hips, her legs spread.
Suddenly the second thief reached toward the masked beauty from beyond the doorframe, grabbing her costume just below her shoulder. Crimson immediately seized his wrist and yanked him off the floor and toward her. He smashed into the metal frame and she landed a single blow flush on his jaw. He dropped to the cold floor and did not move.
She returned to her pose. ‘As I was saying, now you’re going to jail.’
Nancy pulled the baton from behind her. She had evidently shoved it into the waistband of her jeans. ‘I don’t think so.’ The tall redhead whipped the weapon out to its full length. When it reached its full span, Nancy gave the baton a twirl, rotating it 360°, and capping the performance with a snap of her wrist that gave off a spark that struck the floor directly in front of Crimson Flare. The small flash striking the cold metal caused the determined heroine to hop away from her opponent and back under the metal frame. She never removed her gaze from the tall redhead, however. ‘I’m going to enjoy making you scream again, Crimson Flare. You may have strength, but you come to the field with too many disadvantages. And I know about all of them.’
‘You had your chance to defeat me the last time we met. I’m ready for you now.’ Crimson could only hope that the small earpiece, coupled with her own knowledge of her weaknesses, would do the job, so her statement was mostly bluff.
‘Are you? Let’s see,’ Nancy smiled. A small whip of her wrist sent another flash toward the Champion. It struck her in the abdomen. Crimson Flare took a step backward, doubled over and holding her stomach: it felt like she had been struck by a body blow from Lennox Lewis. Nancy’s smile widened at the look of vulnerable surprise that flashed behind the vinyl mask of Mitropoulos’ Champion. ‘You handled that well, Crimson Slut, but then that’s not your most vulnerable spot, is it?’ She prepared to whip the weapon again.
In a flash, the heroine was through the doorway and on her opponent. She drove the redhead to the floor with a crash of falling bodies. Crimson Flare held Nancy’s arm outstretched in an effort to knock the baton from her grip. Though the heroine landed on top of her surprised nemesis, she failed to loosen the weapon from her grip. The crimson-clad vigilante reached across with her other hand and wrapped her fingers around Nancy’s wrist and forearm. Then she squeezed for all she was worth, trying to force open the larger woman’s hand. ‘Give it up. I’m stronger than you are. You can’t win,’ the masked beauty said through clenched teeth.
‘That may be,’ Nancy replied, the struggle evident in her voice.
Crimson Flare was concentrating on the fingers of Nancy’s right hand, watching the larger woman’s grip oh-so-slowly weaken and loosen on the dark baton. She had twisted her body on top of her opponent, so that she now lay with her back almost to the larger woman’s abdomen. But just as she thought that the battle was won, she felt the fingers of Nancy’s free hand lift the crotch of her costume and slide inside, seeking the warmth of her sex. The instant contact was made, and Nancy’s middle finger pushed against her colourless tights, seeking to enter her, Crimson Flare felt a loss of focus. She drew a breath in sharply, and felt her own grip weaken. ‘GGgglll-hhhggkk!’ she cried out. So close to victory, she couldn’t weaken now. But her head was spinning.
Crimson Flare’s heart rate increased, her blood pressure rose, and her body temperature began to climb: These were three of the criteria programmed into the electronics of the cell that she had placed in her ear, and the first series of shocks rattled along her nervous system. Each shock greater than the last, and quickly the heroine was able to focus her attention on the matter at hand. Crimson Flare grabbed at her baton, which rolled free and onto the cold floor of the refrigerator.
The petite form of the Champion of Mitropoulos was on her feet in a second. She had regained control of her own weapon, and, though visibly unsteady, the heroine faced Nancy and said, ‘Now you’re going to jail.’ She pressed on the ends of the telescoping baton to return it to its original fourteen-inch size. With each second, Crimson felt her strength and confidence returning. Her gaze had steadied and she kept her eyes focused directly on her antagonist. With a firm tread, she stepped toward the denim-clad figure still lying on the floor. With a single gloved hand, the powerful heroine easily lifted the larger redhead to her feet. There was a hint of a smile at the corner of Crimson Flare’s mouth.
The thick metal pipe smashed heavily against the side of the Champion’s head, driving her sideways across the refrigerated vault. The force of the blow almost felled her; she stumbled clumsily as she tried to remain upright until her body slammed against the rear wall of the locker. Her baton had dropped from her hand and skittered across the floor, unnoticed, and came to rest among a small pile of cuttings from resized clothes. The patchwork of fur was earmarked for decorative uses or for expensive novelty items.
Supported by the hard coldness of the metal wall, Crimson Flare vigorously shook her head, trying to focus her vision. Before she could accomplish that, she felt several pairs of rough, strong hands grab her and pull her back toward the center of the vault. A second blow from the metal pipe drove the air from her, filling her with agonising pain, when it powered into her abdomen just below her ribs. Desperately, the staggered Maiden of Mitropoulos sought to fill her body with a relieving breath of life.
As two pairs of strong hands pulled at each of the masked maid’s arms, stretching them as far as they would go, yet another powerful blow battered the exposed chest of the heroine.
Dazed, pain shooting through her body, the Champion of Mitropoulos planted her feet firmly on the floor, and then easily pulled the two men who were attempting to restrain her before her. Though she was still too stunned by the power and suddenness of the attack to be sure, she thought she recognised the blonde gang member as the outside guard and the other as the one she had encountered just inside the rear hallway. They had recovered very quickly and now they were attempting to use their numerical advantage against the lovely heroine.
She shook one arm free and with it, shoved one black-garbed figure through the entry and into the hall. His body crashed heavily into the far wall and slumped to the floor. But before she could turn on the other muscular gangster attempting to restrain her, her vision was soaked in red as a fourth stroke from the thick, heavy metal pipe, this one against the back of her head. She still had not seen who was wielding the weapon against her. But the power of this blow was undeniable. Her grip on the hoodlum was broken, and the avenger fell against him, her arms across his shoulders as if she were preparing to embrace him. She sighed weakly as she slumped to her knees on the cold refrigerator floor.
The next blow followed quickly. It came from the rear and hit her squarely against the side of her head. The beautiful Champion of Women was almost unconscious as she fell, helpless, to the floor, finally resting on her chest with her head turned awkwardly to the side. If not for her tremendous strength and resilience, she would have been unconscious after the second stroke. The heroine’s eyes glazed over and Nancy, now standing over her, used the toe of her boot to lightly push the Champion, unresisting, onto her back.
The redheaded villainess smiled down on the defeated Maiden of Mitropoulos. Crimson Flare blinked vigorously, concentrating, trying to focus. The figures swam before her eyes, but she saw that Nancy and a man with a shaved head, one who had restrained her a moment earlier, were chatting and laughing together. They were soon joined by the immense figure of Ape Greystook, likewise smiling broadly. Over his shoulder, he was holding a heavy iron pipe. It must have been five feet long and three inches in diameter. Pointing fingers and pointed stares told the struggling heroine that she was the target of their laughing and joking. Gradually, sensations began to return to the barely conscious avenger. A choir of faint, unintelligible, voices flowed over her, undifferentiated noises that reverberated around in her brain until they became a mere jumble. She stared up at the trio and didn’t respond when Ape hefted the pipe again, lifting it above his head, holding it with both hands. But Nancy stopped him. Crimson Flare could see her lips moving, though she didn’t hear the words. The heroine was able to lip read, ‘We don’t want--’ before she lost her concentration. Her head slumped toward the floor and she struggled to return her gaze to the trio above her. Ape laid the weapon aside and dropped his huge frame down toward the helpless heroine. With his left hand he almost gently raised up her chin so that she stared vulnerably at him. Then he drew back his ham fist to a point past his ear. Crimson Flare only watched as he brought it forcefully to a point directly between her eyes.
She sighed weakly. At first, she couldn’t feel anything.
She was lying on her side. The pressure of the floor against her told her that.
As she struggled to open her eyes, that last, frightening image came back to her. Gradually she realised that she was still in the refrigerator. She could feel the cold. The door was closed and the cold metal of the floor pierced her skin all the way to her spine.
Her skin! She was naked! She painfully twisted her head and gazed over her body. What she saw was that her costume had been pulled down off her shoulders and chest. It remained around her hips, crushed and unrecognisable as the symbol of Mitropoulos’ most renowned celebrity.
As more of her senses returned, Crimson Flare became aware that her hands were tied securely behind her back. At first, she tugged vainly at the ropes. But eventually, she brought her claw into play as she finally remembered the tool that had helped her so often.
Shortly, she realised that her hips were gyrating, rubbing back and forth against the cold metal floor, lifting up and down. As her senses continued to flood her consciousness with fresh stimuli, she realised that a large probe had been thrust deep into her, placed there by removing her costume and tights and then replacing them. Her thighs, tied tightly together with a rope circling those round and glorious extremities, held it there securely. Her knees were bent fully back, a short rope connecting her already bound wrists was tied fast to her black-booted ankles. Yet another rope circled the highly polished leather. The tautness of these ropes pressed the offending object deeper into her, and the waves of sensuality passing upward from her groin disoriented the struggling maiden. She pushed her thighs even more tightly together, paradoxically, to try to both relieve and maintain the sensations. The heroine’s mouth was dry and her breathing harsh. She could see the fine mist of her breath hang in the air and she realised that she was getting more and more excited by her predicament. If she were not inside a refrigerated vault she would be sweating profusely by now. Her breath caught as her hogtied form rolled forward, bringing her sensitive nipples into contact with the cold metal floor. The chill raced along her spine, up and down, until she shook vigorously from her shoulders to her knees.
‘Ooooohhhh.’ The cry which escaped her lips was a mixture of agony and delight. Her frosty breath condensed on the floor. When she pressed her face down onto the metal, some of the moisture relieved her cracked lips. She remembered the electronic cell that she wore. Why was it not activated?
‘Aaaaaahhhhhh.’ Her sigh was almost inaudible.
Slowly, slowly, the claw sawed its way through the loops of rope that encircled her wrists. The struggling Champion of Women struggled to maintain her focus on the task of freeing herself. But the slowness of the process wore on her, and she found herself pumping her thighs, tightening and releasing the muscles, pressing them together and releasing them, which made the dildo move inside her, tickling the sensitive interior of her vagina. Her head spun and her senses reeled. She could feel the orgasm forming.
From behind the rear wall, she could hear sirens, police cars entering the alley running behind Venable’s Furs. It briefly snapped Crimson Flare from her reverie. But for only a moment. The sensations running through her, sensations originating from deep within her battered body and her weakened psyche, were too powerful to deny. The miniature apparatus placed in her ear had been shattered by one of Ape’s blows with his iron pipe. Even if the device were still working, it is unlikely it could have reversed the impending orgasm.
‘OO-oo-ooohhh, deeeaarr ggoooddd!’ Masturbation was something new to the young woman. The sexual stimulation provided by the device within, the psychological impetus offered by the tightness of her bonds and helpless condition, and the tactile stimulation of her mask and costume, the cold air and the metal floor beneath her all combined to present her imagination with an uncontrollable sexual frenzy, almost hallucinogenic in its impact. ‘Oooooohh! Ooooh! Oooh! Ooh! Oh!’’ The pitiful, excited moans came ever shorter and ever faster from the bound beauty, as she massaged herself erotically by maneuvering her thighs, causing shifts in the position of the dildo inside her. Even the most minute movements in the device could bring about a cascade of sensations through her erogenous area. As her screams rose both in volume and pitch, she began rocking her body back and forth on the cold metal floor. The Maiden of Mitropoulos became more and more excited, and she enjoyed not only the sensations inside her but also the cold hardness pressing against her petite and very sensitive breasts and nipples. Every sensation stirred her, every single stimulus contributed to the rising level of sensuality she felt inside her. Her mind could focus only on the unrelenting sexual bliss rising inside her. Tears filled her eyes as she felt her vagina explode under the perfect pleasure she had created for herself.
‘OOOOOOOOooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh!!! UUUUuuuuuuuuulllllllggggghhhh!!’ she shrieked as the fullness of her feminine sensuality seized her and held on, remorseless, pulling every last ounce of her strength from her body, tearing open the immense resources of the emotional repository of a superheroine. She lay on the cold floor, her juices soaking her tights and her costume, yet the instrument remained in place, unwavering in its mindless domination of the Champion of Mitropoulos. The orgasm did not sate the heroine, who continued to massage her interior, desperately seeking the bliss she has so recently experienced.
But Nancy had a more thorough vengeance in mind against the woman who had taken her lovers. No sooner had the first orgasm burst from deep within her than the tip of the probe began to create a new volcano inside her. Nancy knew that Crimson Flare’s body could create a multitude of climaxes, each as powerful as the last. The superhuman sexuality that had been unleashed in her body, Nancy knew, would not abate, but would heighten in an ever-growing crescendo.
‘GGGggggggggggaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhHHHHHllllllggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!’ Crimson Flare had been conquered. Tears poured as she wept, the result of utter bliss seizing control of her mind. Her body quaked, trembled, shook, as she experienced the fullness of sexual bliss. She heard only the white noise of a rushing in her ears and she saw only the yellow and red haze that resulted from a total surrender to her sensuality. She came a second time, elevating herself beyond anything she had ever known before. She drove her thighs tighter and tighter together, forcing the now-welcome instrument against her vaginal walls with greater and greater force.
Crimson Flare, the Heroine of Mitropoulos, the Champion of Women, wracked her body violently on the floor of the vault, screaming in sexual ecstasy, twisting and turning herself to achieve yet another orgasm. Her honey soaked her tights and celebrity costume and dripped out onto the cold floor. The heaven of sexual bliss was all she understood at that moment. She was completely unaware when the police opened the door to the vault, followed by the representatives of the press.
End of Chapter Six