I am face to face with man that I have been hunting. He is the leader of the Syndicate, a white slavery operation that has been kidnapping young women and selling them to overseas buyers. His dirty blonde hair is greased back. Hollow cheeks and a bad complexion hint that he is a drug user, probably heroine and coke. A cigarette dangles from the corner of a wide, lopsided mouth. He is wearing a retro style white sports jacket, the sleeves rolled up and a pastel-blue t-shirt underneath. Bright yellow slacks have sharp creases down the front of each leg. Polished, white leather shoes sport small gold buckles. A small entourage of strikingly attractive girls surrounds him. A stretch limousine with oversize chrome rims is parked just behind. The guy is a pimp, I think. A sleazy pimp that needs to be brought to justice and I am just the girl to do it.
“Benny Truiphant!” I exclaim while almost bumping into the man.
The door to the club slams closed behind me. The alley is dark but for the flashing of a purple neon sign and the limo’s bright headlamps. His face is partially covered in shadow but I can see his surprise. He stammers, not knowing what to say. The Purring Kitten is his base of operations. He never expected to see me greeting him at the door.
“Ms. Marvelous?”
“I was wondering when you would show up!” I say while striking a pose. I try to sound confident, like I planned for this meeting to happen. In truth, I am as surprised as he is. It has been a long night. I am weak. My genetically enhanced body trembles with sexual arousal. Benny’s sex club was nearly the end of me. I was lucky to escape the gang of gigolos, prostitutes and nymphomaniacs inside. They pushed me to my limit and nearly bested me. Had it not been for Joel Steiner and a bit of luck, I would have been utterly defeated.
He is a cocky little man and recovers quickly. The cigarette bounces up and down as he says my name again, this time with a sharp edge cutting through his voice. The look of surprise is gone, replaced by something more sinister. He removes Mafioso sunglasses and slowly runs beady eyes across my slender figure. I blush as he immodestly scans my long legs, slender waist, and round breasts. A red and black costume hugs my athletic body like a second skin and reveals every curve and bump with intimate detail. He takes his time, getting a good look. He is like a pubescent teenager drooling over the centerfold of an adult magazine. His thin lips twist into a lurid smile and I can tell that he is remembering our first encounter, several weeks before. He is remembering how he raped me. He is remembering how great it felt to fuck a super-heroine.
The problem is, I am remembering it, too. The Sartak, my weakness to sexual stimulation, makes me vulnerable to men that have raped me before. Despite my best effort to put the memory out of my mind, I cannot help but visualize the way he took me, gripping me from behind and forcing me to my knees, his hands wrapped around my defenseless body and squeezing my breasts, his chest pressing down against my back and his thick cock penetrating deep inside of my tight pussy. I remember the sound of his pelvis slapping against my ass as he savagely screwed me. My breathing quickens as I imagine him doing it to me again, as I fantasize about him impaling me over and over again, bringing me to the point of my climax and—
“You should surrender peacefully, Benny!” I sputter. “The police are on their way. The Purring Kitten and your white slavery operation are about to be closed down!”
He continues to stare at my oversexed body. His voice drips with desire as he answers me. “I don’t know how you got away from Mr. Nagayasu, beautiful, but the Syndicate does not tolerate escaped slaves. Rest assured, we will send you back, though not before we have had some fun with you.” And then he adds, “Shit, if you only knew the number of wet dreams you’ve starred in…”
He arrogantly reaches out and touches me. His fingers softly stroke my left breast like they own it and I allow it to go on for far too long. It is like I am dazed. I look down and pout. I see my nipple harden, a bump pressing upward from beneath the thin fabric of my costume and growing larger with each new caress. He sees it too and his thumb flicks across it like an old pro, touching me in just the right way. He reads my mind, knows that I am thinking about our first encounter, knows that I am thinking
about his cock being inside of me. I am wet, my pussy tingling. My entire body is reacting to him, growing even more aroused than it already was. I hear him chuckle. At last, after what seems like a long time, I come to my senses and slap his hand away.
“Masaharu… gave me back my freedom,” I stammer, “not that it was ever his to possess. I am no man’s property!”
But my swollen nipples tell a different story. He knows that I am not as confident as I am trying to sound. “We’ll see about that,” he answers. “I have a number of buyers that are sure to be interested in a woman of your beauty and ability. Some, like Mr. Nagayasu, may want you to serve them as a warrior. Others may want you as a whore. Some may want both. And then there are those that will simply want you, not for combat or for sex, but simply because you have wronged them at some time in the past, and simply for the sake of revenge. But regardless of who it is, we will find someone to be your new master. You can count on that. You will fetch a good price, I am sure!”
“You conceited bastard! I will never again be made a slave! I am not a piece of property that you can sell!”
He sneers as if nothing that I say is of any importance. “The problem with you, Ms. Marvelous, is that you have too much spirit for your own good. But I’ll fix that. My girls and I will fuck the spirit out of you. Rest assured, you’ll be a good little bitch when we get done with you.”
Fury builds inside me. I quickly glance at the three young women surrounding Benny. They are not like the girls inside the club. They have the bodies of amazons and wear tight-fitting bodysuits of various colors. One is dressed in green. One is dressed in red. The last is decked out in gold. I do not know who they are but I will gladly go through them all if that is what it takes to get to their boss and redeem my honor.
“Allow me to introduce my battle angels,” Benny says after noticing that I am looking at the three girls. “After our last encounter, in which the Izumi sisters helped me to defeat you, the benefit of having female warriors on the payroll became apparent to me. They may not yet be as talented as Mr. Nagayasu’s vixen twins, but they have been specially trained to deal with the likes of you. I can assure you that they are quite capable.”
“I defeated the Izumi twins in Japan!” I say more for my benefit than his. “I will defeat these girls, as well!”
He motions with his hand and Green Angel steps forward. Her lithe body is like a coiled spring, taught and ready to explode. She snaps a crescent kick at my head and I barely deflect it. A heel kick almost breeches my defense. A spear hand thrust almost gets through. She is good, I admit, but I have seen it all before. I have been trained by the best and quickly spot a weakness in her style. She is too aggressive and counting on her strikes to get through. When they don’t, she is left open to a counterattack. I deflect her next blow and switch onto the offensive. I grab her arm and wrench the elbow. She lets out a little scream, like a child experiencing pain for the first time. I drive my left knee into the middle of her right thigh, numbing her entire leg. I pivot and turn, lifting her off of the ground with a judo throw and depositing her in a disheveled heap of arms and legs on the ground at my feet. “Anyone else want to try?” I ask brazenly.
Red Angel answers my challenge with a series of lightning fast kicks. She is slim and athletic, a fluid wave of furious action that catches me off-guard. I block the first four kicks but a fifth impacts with my stomach and slams me back against the door to the club. Ok, I think, she can fight. She has had some serious training. But I have gone up against better fighters than this. I rebound off of the door and catch her next kick in my hands. I lift her foot high into the air. She comes off the ground and I drive a kick of my own into her inner thigh. Her slender body flies backward and bounces off the ground.
Unfortunately for me, Green Angel still has some fight left in her. From her position on the ground, she pulls my feet out from under me and drops me onto the pavement next to her. I land on my butt with a thud and she is on top of me in an instant, hands wrestling with mine, trying to pin me to the ground. We struggle and I am reminded that I am at far less than full strength. To my surprise, it is all that I can do just to get her off of me. At last, I wrench my right wrist out of her grasp and drive an open palm strike into the point of her chin. Her head snaps back and her body goes slack. I roll away and quickly leap to my feet.
Gold Angel enters the fray, joining Red to strike at me as a team. Kicks and punches rain down on me from two directions. An elbow clips me on the temple and I see stars. A fist slams into my gut and I am bent over. I feel them wrapping my arms behind my back and turning me around. They slam me head first into the steel door of the club and release me. I slump to my knees and groan.
“How do you like that, super-bitch?” one of them asks while slapping me across the back of my head.
My skull is throbbing and I have to admit that Benny’s battle angels are a lot tougher than I figured. Using the door to steady myself, I slowly stagger to my feet. A fist slams into my kidney. Another clubs me on the back of my neck. I spin and am lucky to catch one of the girls with a backhanded chop across the face. Her friend drives another blow into my gut. I return the favor by slamming a knee into her stomach. An uppercut turns her head around and sends a long stream of saliva and blood spraying through the air. I grab her limp body and use it first as a shield-- absorbing the impact of a roundhouse kick delivered by her partner-- and then as a weapon to drive the other girl back.
The three girls rise from the ground and brush themselves off. They glance at each other and nod, apparently having a plan. I do not care. Even in my weakened condition, I know that I am more than a match for them. I strike a fighting pose and wait. I motion with the fingers of an outstretched hand, indicating that I wish them to attack.
“Your angels need more training, Benny!” I state boldly.
“We’ll see,” he answers. “We’ll see.”
The girls spread out and corral me against the wall of building. It is three against one and difficult for me to watch them all. They jump me like a well-oiled machine, the two at my sides going low and grabbing my legs while the third goes high and leaps on top of me from the front. The coordination of their attack surprises me and I am quickly enveloped within a web of svelte arms and long legs.
“What are you doing?” I exclaim as the three young women wrap nubile bodies around mine and force me to the ground. I feel like I am being smothered. My legs are pinned. My wrists held tight. They are pressing themselves against me, latching on and wrapping arms and legs around mine. Groping hands explore my body, sliding across my flesh with enticing caresses and rubs. Soft lips find my protruding nipples and attach themselves to my breasts. Flicking tongues dance across the surface of my sheer costume and over bare skin. Graceful fingers slide beneath my bikini bottom and work their way between my legs. I writhe atop the asphalt like a stricken serpent. Panic overtakes me. I cannot escape. My knees come apart. My thighs spread. I moan helplessly as waves of unwanted but undeniable sensations electrify my trembling figure.
“Do you see?” Benny says from above me. “My battle angels know just how to beat you!” Red Angel grips my face between her hands and lays a passionate, suffocating kiss on me. Her lips are soft and smothering and I can do little but endure a long and uninterrupted make-out session. Green Angel is playing games with my tits. My right nipple is sucked deep into her mouth. My left is pinched softly between her fingers. Gold Angel has a hand inside of my costume and is rubbing my clit. Thirty seconds go by and I am wet. Sixty seconds pass and love juices are dripping from my hole. “Must… fight back…” I pant. “Must… not surrender…”
I work my left hand free of Red’s grasp. She is so involved in kissing me that she does not even notice. And… oh god… she is a good kisser. Her lips are like warm velvet. Her breath is peppermint. Hands caress my face tenderly. Sexual fantasies, of being completely ravaged by this beautiful girl, slip into my thoughts. I almost forget that she is an enemy. I almost forget that she is working for Benny.
But the thought of Benny, standing above me and enjoying the show, makes me angry. I reach around Red’s shoulders and grab her by the back of the scalp. I pull on her hair, forcing her head back and her lips away from mine. She protests and I need to use every bit of my failing strength to shove her off of me. I rip my right hand away from Green. I club her across the top of the head with my elbow and am relieved when my tortured tit pops out of her mouth. Thank god she did not fold back the taper of my costume, I think. My nipple is so sensitive and swollen that skin on skin contact might have finished me. As it is, it takes every bit of my remaining willpower to rise up into a sitting position and push her svelte body away.
Gold Angel is furiously rubbing my clit but has forgotten to keep a good hold on my legs. Still, her fingers are destroying me. I moan loudly and am nearly overcome by the sensations erupting from my
tiny but swollen bud. I squirm on the ground in desperation and somehow manage to line her up for a knee to the chops. Her hand comes away from my snatch and she falls backward, cursing. The three girls are reaching for me again, trying to subdue me, but I have come too far to be stopped, now. I roll backward, a reverse somersault that leaves me crouched and ready for more action.
“Unnnggghhh…” I groan as a lightheaded feeling nearly overwhelms me, “…so weak…” Part of me wants to give up, to surrender to the sexual fantasies racing through my head. I know that if Benny’s battle angels manage to get me down again I will not be strong enough to fight them off a second time. My body is on fire. An orgasm is building inside of me. It will not take much to bring me off. And if I climax, I will lose my powers and be unable to defend myself. Benny will win. I figure I might as well go for broke. I launch myself into the fray, a spinning dervish of kicks and punches that catch my young foes completely off guard. They try to restrain me, try to latch onto my body, but I beat them away. Hands reach for my sensitive spots—a quick caress of my breasts, a momentary rub between my legs—but the new found adrenaline coursing through my veins keeps me going. Somehow, almost impossibly, I fight through sensations that threaten to drown me. I valiantly battle on despite the odds arrayed against me. And, finally, when I am nearly exhausted, victory is mine. Red, Green, and Gold have fallen. They sleep at my feet, nubile beauties beaten by a better warrior. “Damnit!” Benny shouts. “I cannot believe you beat my battle angels!”
It pleases me that he is upset. “Will you surrender, now, Benny? Will you give up this madness?” He is looking at my oversexed body the way a parched man looks at a tall glass of cool water. I can tell by the far away look in his eyes that he is fantasizing about me. A noticeable bulge appears in the crotch of his yellow slacks. I try to ignore it. I try to ignore the memory of his cock ravishing my wet pussy, a memory that is still all too vivid in my mind.
The lurid fantasy playing out in his head seems to calm him. “Yes, you have beaten my battle angels,” he eventually says. “But I wonder if will you fare as well against their beautiful teacher?” “Teacher?”
Benny snaps his fingers and the back door to the limousine opens. A stunning figure emerges. She is tall, a full four inches taller than me. A mane of long red hair smolders atop her head. Emerald green eyes flare. She has the face of a glamour model and the body of an Olympic athlete. Her shoulders are strong. Arms are chiseled as if from marble. Large breasts are barely contained within a tight-fitting halter-top. Abdominal muscles are like steel. A revealing bikini bottom shows off the round curve of perfect hips and a magnificent ass. Long legs are wrapped within leather chaps. Rattlesnake boots cover her feet.
She greets me with a sultry voice. “Hello, Ms. Marvelous. Back from Japan so soon?” I swallow hard. I am not a lesbian but something about this woman gives me goose bumps. Maybe it is her gorgeous face. Maybe it is the tanned glow of her perfect skin. Whatever it is, I am reminded again of just how sexually aroused I am.
“Hello, Ursula. Still working for Mr. White Trash, I see.”
She shrugs and walks to Benny’s side. “Someone has to keep him out of trouble.” “But you know what he does for a living! You know that he sells young women into slavery!” Full red lips form an uncaring smile. Green eyes devour my body and leave no doubt that she is
just as turned on by the sight of me as I am by the sight of her. It is well known that Ursula Major prefers women. Her desire to rape me is not a secret. “It pays the bills,” she replies casually. “And believe me, I have some big bills!”
“Then you are as evil as he is!”
At this remark, smoldering eyes seem to ignite. She flicks her tongue in my direction. “I was disappointed with the way our last battle ended,” she says while striding boldly toward me. “I did not want to give you up to Masaharu and the Izumi twins. I wanted to keep you for myself!”
She moves like a cat, springing at me with unexpected grace and power. Her right hand grips my neck. Fingers tighten around my throat and lift my slender figure off of the ground. She slams me back first against the entrance to the Purring Kitten with such force that we crash through the steel door and into the club. I land on the floor with her on top of me, once again the center of attention for the club’s patrons. But this time it is not so much a fight as it is a beating. Knuckles crash against my jaw. More
punches follow. A knee falls across my throat. My windpipe is closed off and I gag helplessly for air. I try to push her off but she is too strong for me. Stars cloud my vision. I am passing out. “What’s the matter?” she asks with genuine surprise. “Why are you so weak? Surely, the battle angels did not tire you out so quickly?”
I try to reply but manage little more than a pathetic gurgle. Ursula does not know all that I have been through. She does not know that Darriz, the magnificent ebony gigolo, fucked me until I purred like a sex kitten. She does not know that Pete, the gorgeous bare-chested bartender, drugged me with poisoned ginger ale. She does not know that two prostitutes sucked on my nipples, tortured my clit, and nearly broke my willpower. She does not know that a young stud penetrated my anus with his finger and tormented me to the point that I was ready to pass out. She does not know any of these things. All she knows is that I am pinned and helpless. All she knows is that she is finally going to get the chance to prove that she is better than Ms. Marvelous.
She rises off of me, allowing me to inhale some much needed oxygen. I cough and sputter, sure that I am near to death. The bar patrons gather in a wide circle in the hope of seeing my demise. But there is still a little strength left in my incredible, genetically enhanced body. The sight of Ursula standing above me and basking in the cheers of the crowd ignites the warrior spirit within my heart. My right leg snaps upward as I drive a kick into the top of her thigh. She grimaces and staggers backward, giving me the space I need to get back to my feet.
The people surrounding us snarl in disapproval. I look at them fearfully, worried that they might join in, that they might gangbang me, but for some reason they hold back. It is not me that they fear, I realize. It is Ursula. No one wants to tick off the big gal by interfering with her fun.
She seems pleased that I am back on my feet. The bruise on her thigh is nothing. She has been hit harder in training sessions with the battle angels. But she wants the fight to go on a bit longer. It has long been her dream to beat the great Ms. Marvelous and she does not want it to prove too easy. She wants it to be a difficult battle. Only then can the fruits of her victory be truly enjoyed. I know that Ursula has always wanted to fuck me. She wants to beat me into submission and then ravish my body. And she wants everyone to see her do it. Only then can she claim to be the city’s real alpha female.
But I am not going to just roll over and give up. I raise my hands and wait for her to attack. I know that Ursula is primarily a wrestler. She likes to twist the bodies of her opponents into little knots and force them to submit. But if she cannot catch me then she cannot beat me. I have to use my speed. I have to use my karate and kick boxing. I have to keep her off balance and then, when the time is right, deliver the blow that will finish her.
There is a smile on her face as she lunges for me. I meet her charge with a flying knee and connect solidly against her head. She crashes backward through the hostess station and lands in the middle of a pile of rubble. She gets up and brushes herself off. The smile is gone. “A point for you, super-girl!” she spits in disgust.
“Bring it on!” I reply.
She approaches again, though this time more cautiously. I am surprised when she drives a stiff jab into my face. I answer with a mule kick to her gut. She grunts but holds her ground. I poke her with a couple of quick lefts. She tries to grab my wrist but I wrench it away and deliver a hard sidekick to her ribs. I bounce away, putting some distance between us and thinking that I might have a chance to win this thing.
The audience is unhappy. They want to see me get raped. Indeed, some of them are so horny for me that they want to get in on the action whether Ursula likes it or not. I feel a hand copping a squeeze on my ass. Fingers slide into my butt-crack and get a good feel. I spin and slap the hand away. It belongs to Rocket, the gigolo that I earlier kicked in the nuts. A look of mock innocence is painted on his face. I ram my fist into his solar plexus and he folds like the legs on a cheap card table. I smile, pleased with myself. Too late, I realize that it was a mistake for me to take my eyes off of Ursula.
The big red head is waiting for me when I turn around. She drives a knee into my stomach and bends me over. Her right arm wraps under my chin, pinning my head against her side. Her right hand interlocks with the left as she applies massive torque to my neck. She leans backward and falls to the floor, pulling me down on top of her. Everything goes dark. My head is trapped under her armpit, the right side of my face pressed tightly against the side of her halter-top. I can feel the vertebrae of my neck
stretching. A dull, numbing pain racks my body. My left arm is pinned to floor beneath the weight of my body. My right arm lies across her stomach, limp. My right leg is entangled with hers, immobile. My left leg is free but useless. The toe of my boot scrapes at the floor for a few moments and then goes still. I no longer have the strength to struggle. I am still conscious but the fight is as good as over.
Finally, after what seems an eternity, Ursula releases the hold. She slides out from under me, allowing my limp body to lie facedown on the floor. She stands and poses for the crowd, lording over me. Tiring of that, she leans over and I feel her hand clutching my hair. She pulls me up onto my knees and then lifts me onto my feet. She places her right hand in the small of my back and lifts me high into the air. She holds me there like a trophy, above her head, my weight supported by one hand, my arms, legs, and head dangling limply toward the floor. My spine arches like a bow. Swollen breasts jut upward into the air. Reams of golden hair droop downward. A super-heroine has been defeated. Ursula Major’s dream has come true.
But beating me is only half of the dream. She still wants to rape me. With my body still held high in the air, she walks to the center of the club, near to the edge of the pillow pit. She winks at Benny and tosses me in. I land on my back, amid surprising softness, my downward momentum driving me into the pillows and half burying my slender figure. I groan and push against the cushions in an effort to right myself. But the pit is deep and the pillows plush. My struggles seem only to bury me deeper. I lie there, exhausted and dazed, and decide that maybe the pit is not so bad. I close my eyes and consider going to sleep.
“So tired…” I mutter. “Can’t fight… anymore…”
The pile of pillows momentarily heaves as Ursula jumps in near my feet. She clears away some of the cushions, exposing my crotch. My legs are nicely spread for her, bent at the knees. She lies down and positions her head. I tense as her lips draw slowly across the soft skin of my inner thigh. My spine arches as she patiently pulls back the fabric of my costume. I whimper as she blows a puff of warm air on my exposed labia.
“So wet!” she says only loud enough that I can hear. “So ready!”
I sigh in resignation as a practiced tongue makes first contact with my nether lips. It separates soft folds of pink flesh and teases the secret bulb hiding underneath. It traces the edges of delicate skin and sends shivers of excitement racing though my body. My hands, buried beneath the pillows, clench. Toes curl. Breathing becomes ragged. Swollen breasts heave upward and ache with longing. Hard nipples burn with desire. An orgasm stirs passionately, uncontrollably, within my loins. “Oh god…” I moan. “Please god… uuunnnggghhh… no… stop…”
I am dimly aware that the gang of club patrons and employees has gathered around the edge of the pit. They stare down at my helpless body with fascination, their own passions burning and their own desires nearly more than they can withstand. Many climb down into the pit and engage one another in their own sordid activities, men and women stripping off clothes and having raw, animalistic sex. Soon, the pit is full of sex-craved nymphomaniacs, vile people wanting only to satisfy their own perverse needs. They are addicts, all of them, and sex is their drug. Many choose to turn their attentions toward me. Hands and lips and tongues roam across my flesh freely, teasing flushed skin with soft caresses and delicate kisses. The tapers of my costume are pulled back. My breasts are stroked. Nipples are suckled. A neck is fondled. Lips are kissed. Every part of my body is explored. Every part is violated. I am at the center of an orgy and helpless to defend myself!
Rocket jumps into the pit and eagerly lies beside me. I have caused him pain and now it is time for payback. He pounces on my tits, not caring that they are already wet with the saliva of so many others. His mouth is like nothing I have ever experienced before, so gentle yet so firm, so slow and yet so immediate. He is a stern lover, punishing me when I protest and rewarding me when I do not. Yet, in the end, it is all the same. He sucks on my left nipple like a man drawing ice cream through a straw. His tongue wraps around my swollen bud and tortures it without mercy. His fingers stroke the underside of my breast and cause me to gasp in erotic anguish. He does the same to my right nipple and then it happens, milk spurting from my abused tits like water from a fountain, streams of whitish fluid that fleck his ruggedly handsome features with the tiny droplets of my shame. I stare at him with disbelieving eyes, the veins on my neck sticking out, pleading with him to stop. He squeezes my breasts between strong
fingers, forcing more fluid from the engorged mounds, watching in sick satisfaction as the flow increases and as little rivers of milk trickle down and over my flushed skin.
And yet, through it all, it is the tongue of Ursula that devastates me most. It flicks across my swollen clit rapidly, lapping at it like a cat drinking cream. My eyes roll into the back of my head. The features of my face twist in torment. I moan loudly, sure that I am about to die. “Unnngggghhhh… god, no… aaaagggghhhh…”
Suddenly, I sense a new presence kneeling beside me. I force my eyes open and see that it is Benny. He takes my head in his hands and turns it to the side. The tip of his cock slaps across my pouting lips. It is so warm, so soft. He forces it into my waiting mouth, giving me the entire head. My lips instinctively embrace it. My tongue licks away the salty spot of moisture on its tip. I cannot help myself. I know that I should be repulsed at the idea of having this sleazebag’s cock in my mouth, but I suck on it like a lollypop. I have surrendered completely to the Sartak. I am no longer a super-heroine. Now, I am little more than a helpless sex kitten.
The club is rocking. Loud pop music vibrates through my tortured body. Overhead lights, like those in a disco, strobe across my flushed skin. The sounds of people enjoying sex surround me. And then I hear something else, a voice calling down to Benny from the edge of the pillow pit. It is the transvestite hostess, trying to get his attention.
“What is it?” he replies while forcing the swollen head of his cock deeper into my mouth. “The police!” she says again. “They are on the way!”
He looks down at me, frustrated. “It appears that you were not lying about the cops, Ms. Marvelous. I guess it is time to leave.” He pulls away from me and motions to Ursula. “Finish it!” he says. She slides two fingers into my primed pussy. My body stiffens. More milk streams from engorged breasts. A tremendous orgasm explodes, arching my back and causing my legs to jerk. My entire body spasms, rising up off the pillows for several long seconds. When it is done and my body collapses back into the plush depths, the merciful touch of unconsciousness closes off my ears and prevents me from hearing the mocking laughter of my enemies. I have been defeated. Ms. Marvelous is doomed.