Elle Mental hung onto her rope for dear life. Her cramping fingers clutched it tightly as she was dragged through the cool night air. Her long, brown hair whipped behind her. She was doing a pretty good clip—nearly as fast as the automobiles on the highway below.
But looking down at the highway, some two hundred feet below, made her queasy. Better to focus on the rope, she reminded herself. To her relief, Grotto Hill was just up ahead. Othello Manor dominated its summit. As Griffon had said, the massive house was situated at the top of the highest hill in the entire city. Having grown up in Megapolis, the young brunette had often noticed the house. She had just never known that it belonged to the infamous crime lord, Don Refrain. For that matter, she had to admit, until just a couple weeks before, she had never known of Don Refrain at all. How her life had changed.
She had returned to Megapolis for what should have been a wonderful reunion. Instead, she arrived to find her sister dead, murdered by Prince Lomac. Lomac worked for Refrain, she now knew. And it was in his master’s house that he now hid.
The Manor was the only structure on the hill. The property belonged to the Refrains and the Refrains alone—In this over-populated and over-crowded city of almost twenty million people, the nearest neighbor was a mile away. The land surrounding the Manor was a mixture of forest and grass. In the light of the moon, the girl could tell that the grounds were pristine and peaceful. How inappropriate, she thought.
Othello Manor was like a modern day castle, built at the edge of a cliff, standing like a fortress above the city and people below. The house was imposing, to say the least. Built solidly from brick, stone, and mortar, the structure appeared strong enough to survive the mightiest hurricane or earthquake. Massive towers jutted skyward at each corner, their tops adorned with gargoyles and battlements. Within the protective watch of the towers, the main house itself sat like a bastille, it’s thick stone walls impervious to the forces of nature around it. Narrow windows breached the walls here and there, letting only the slightest amount of light peak in or out. In totality, the house was constructed like a stronghold meant to resist the tests of both time and man.
But while the house itself was a massive and ugly thing, the grounds outside were quite the opposite. In stark contrast to the hard brick and stone of the structure, the yard had been designed to be soft and inviting. Exquisite gardens and magnificent flowerbeds stretched along every wall, other than that on the cliff side, and intermixed with beautiful patches of colored rock. Green grass wove about the gardens in intricate patterns. Islands of trees and shrubs sprouted forth in fascinating arrangements. Elle could imagine the pleasure that might be had by wandering through these gardens. She could imagine the wondrous sights and smells that might be had sitting in the shade of a cherry tree on a warm spring day. How out of character, she considered. How out of character with the house and how out of character with the man inside.
Don Refrain was a violent, ruthless, man. He sold drugs to children. He murdered rivals. He bribed and assassinated government officials. To think that one such as he could appreciate the beauty of a cherry tree or the fragrance of a rose was almost absurd. Could this be the right house, she wondered? Could the evil crime lord really live here, in this place of beauty?
But, of course, it was the right house. There could be no other. And who was she, the young brunette chided herself, to judge the things that Don Refrain could and could not appreciate? Perhaps he used his drug money to buy the cherry trees. Maybe he used his extortion money to purchase the roses. It did not matter. She was not here to enjoy the sights and smells of Don Refrain’s gardens. She was not here to critique the architecture of his house. She was here for one reason and one reason alone—To rescue Ms. Marvelous.
The famous super-heroine had been brought here, to Othello Manor, as the defeated and helpless prisoner of Prince Lomac. The Prince meant to give the super-heroine to Refrain as a gift in order
to cement his standing as the crime lord’s second in command. Elle just hoped that she was in time to save the valiant champion.
In truth, she had no idea what she was doing. According to Griffon, the Manor was a fortress in more than just appearance. It was heavily guarded by some of the toughest muscle in the city. Ms. Marvelous was sure to be at the center of a great deal of attention. It would be difficult just to get inside the house, much less complete a rescue.
The young brunette psychically commanded the rope to pull her toward the Manor. Her arms ached from holding on. Her exposed skin was painfully cold. Her mind, its telekinetic power nearly drained, was finding it difficult to focus. Her speed began to dwindle. “Just a little farther,” she said aloud to the rope. “Just a little farther and we will be there.”
Flying was not her specialty. Though she could channel her mutant power through the rope and make it go wherever she wished, it was a mental tribulation that she usually preferred to skip. Walking was just fine with her, thank you very much. Or the bus. Or a taxi. Anything but the stomach churning, mind draining, ordeal of telekinetic flight.
But tonight, there was no other choice. Even had the need not been so immediate, other modes of transportation were out of the question. Her costume had been badly torn in the battle with Griffon and his thugs. Her chest, stomach, and crotch were exposed. The tear extended through her legs and up across her rear, though the loose fabric hung down and provided her with at least a modicum of modesty when viewed from behind. But modesty be damned—There was no time to run home and throw on new clothes. She had to help Ms. Marvelous.
Finally, just as she thought she could go no further, the violet clad warrior found herself above the house. She descended quickly and landed hard on the roof. The young brunette slumped to a knee and took a deep breath. Her head felt as if it might explode.
“Easy, girl,” she whispered to herself. “Steady does it.”
With a minute’s rest to feel better, Elle stood and coiled her rope. She fastened it to a loop of fabric on her right hip. Satisfied that it was attached securely, she peered into the darkness that was her surroundings. The roof rose at a slight angle to her left, cresting some forty feet away. At its peek, several large satellite dishes pointed toward the southern horizon. Metal air vents poked upward here and there. A large chimney rose into the night sky.
Sleeping pigeons crouching on the rain ducts failed to notice the stealthy warrior as she quietly made a path toward the front of the house. She stepped to the edge of the roof and looked over. Yard lamps lit a large cinder drive, below. The drive circled in front of the house before leading off into the darkness beyond. Within the distant shadows, the violet assassin could just make out the silhouette of a gate and guardhouse.
Parked on the drive near the entrance to the house, almost directly below her, sat a large van. Its engine clicked as it cooled in the chill night air. She guessed correctly that it was the same van that had transported Lomac and the captured heroine. Two guards stood next to the van. Each had a dangerous looking sub-machinegun strapped over his shoulder.
“Oh, geez,” Elle muttered to herself. “What am I doing here?”
She considered turning back, of picking up her rope and flying away from this place. What did she care about Ms. Marvelous, after all? She had only just met the woman a few hours before. It had not been a warm and fuzzy introduction, either—They had fought, battled to a stalemate before being interrupted by Lomac and his cronies. She did not owe the red and black clad heroine anything, she reminded herself. Quite the opposite, in fact.
But Elle knew that she could not simply leave. She had to at least try. There was something about the blonde heroine that urged her to give it a shot. The young mutant could not put her finger on it exactly, but there was something. Perhaps it was the memory of the way the heroine had put herself in danger to help her--The way she had come to her aid when it looked like she might be raped by Griffon. Maybe it was the way she had smiled and winked at her while fetching her precious rope and tossing it to her. Whatever it was, Elle knew that she could not simply abandon the woman. She had to at least try to rescue her.
The female mutant decided that a frontal assault would be suicidal. Unlike Ms. Marvelous, she was not bulletproof. The eastern masters had tried to teach her, tried to train her how to use her power
to throw up a telekinetic shield and block projectiles, but she had never finished the training. Her abilities, powerful as they were, were still limited to the rope. So it would be best, she decided, to attack from behind, from an angle the enemy would never expect.
Elle moved silently across the roof until she was at the back of the house. She peered over the edge. The drop over the cliff was completely vertical. The ground below was hidden in dark shadows. It was just as well, she figured. If she knew how high up she was, she would probably chicken out.
She did not dare to try making another flight—Her mind was still drained and her power untrustworthy. She would have to do this the old fashioned way. Making a decision, she dropped over the edge and grabbed onto the rain gutter with her fingers. She hung there for a moment, suspended in the air, trying to decide on her next move.
She began swinging, her feet gaining speed as she moved back and forth. Finally, satisfied that her momentum was sufficient, she let go of the gutter and arched downward toward the house. She set down on a narrow windowsill without making a noise.
Elle looked back over her shoulder to where she had been only a moment before. The leap had crossed fifteen feet—Not bad. Of course, there would be no going back. Even her considerable athletic abilities had limits.
Turning toward the window, the brunette was disappointed to find it locked but pleased to see that it had a simple latch. She raised her hand and motioned at the glass. Slowly, the latch began to move as it was influenced by her mutant power. After the long flight from Apple Hills, even this small effort was draining, but finally she had it. The window popped open and the slender girl crawled through.
Her ability to open windows had often been useful during her life as a thief. It was one of the few telekinetic things she could do without the aid of her rope. Not that she liked stealing from others, but it was sometimes necessary. It was tough being a mutant, even if her skin was not blue. Jobs were hard to find and even harder to hold. Sometimes, out of desperation, a person had to steal to survive.
In any case, her past experiences as a thief had made her particularly adept at the ninja arts. Her masters in the east had been amazed at how quickly she learned. Within no time, she had become their best student. She would need all her skills now, if she were to survive this night.
Prince Lomac stepped through the open double doors that led to Don Refrain’s studio. He walked boldly through the open center area of the room, past the dozens of unfinished paintings and sculptures that littered the spaces near the walls. Most of the works were representations of people. They were exquisitely brushed and magnificently carved, rarely flawed, and always somewhat less than complete. Those portrayed were most often famous figures from history, generals and conquerors, mostly, and rendered in the most realistic and lifelike way. But the Prince paid little attention to the inanimate figures. Instead, his eyes focused unwaveringly on the man at the center of the room.
The man stood quietly, his back to the Prince. White, silk, pajamas covered his large form. White leather slippers adorned his feet. His hair, as white as his clothes, was cropped close to his head. The man held a wood mallet in one hand and a chisel in the other. He seemed not to have noticed the Prince at all. Instead, he studied an untouched block of stone standing in front of him, as if unsure of how to proceed.
“What do you think, Lomac?” the man asked without turning. “At what point on the stone shall I make the first strike?”
“What is it you intend to sculpt?”
“The same thing as always, of course.”
“Another bust? Perhaps you will finish this one, yes?”
“Only if it is perfect,” the man in white replied. “Only if it is perfect.”
The Prince smiled. He was not surprised to find Don Refrain up and working, even despite the late hour. As far as Lomac had been able to determine, the crime boss never slept. If he was not sculpting or painting, then he was running some facet of his multi-billion dollar business. Giving orders, breaking skulls, giving orders to break skulls—Refrain had a job that the Prince admired and envied. Even
in his own country of Riberia, where Prince Lomac’s word had once been law, such an absolute level of power had always eluded him.
“Then perhaps you will put down your hammer and chisel and allow me to entice you with something far more entertaining?”
The crime boss continued to stare at the stone. “Entertaining, you say? Is this why I have you on my payroll, Lomac? To entertain me? I have to admit, I found you to be mildly amusing at first, but lately you have become increasingly boring. You live in my Apple Hills home, distract my men with insignificant tasks, eat my food, drink my wine, soil my carpets and bed sheets with your orgies, and generally make a nuisance of yourself. What is there about you that I could possibly find entertaining?”
The Prince’s smile faded. His eyes burned a hole into the back of Refrain’s head. “I see that you have been listening to that fool, Griffon, yes? I caution you, Mr. Refrain, to pay little heed to his lies. The silver-haired buffoon is jealous of my status within your organization and seeks to gain more power for himself by discrediting me.”
The crime lord sighed. Disputes between his subordinates were common. “I have little patience for such matters, Lomac. Perhaps I should dispose of you both and rid myself of this nuisance?” “Or perhaps you should allow me to prove my worth.”
Refrain snorted. “I have given you a fair chance, have I not? I have given you the resources to strengthen our organization’s presence in the Dark Water. Since the demise of the Reavors, our ownership over that sector of the city has been challenged by other gangs. The Gangrel, in particular, have been an annoyance. Tell me, Prince, have you made any progress in reestablishing our drug operation?”
Lomac hesitated. “Yes, well, progress has been slow, to say the least. The Gangrel are well organized. The resources that you have given me are insufficient to completely--” “I grow tired of your excuses, Lomac! Tell me, why are you not in the Dark Water now, at this very instant, reclaiming what is rightfully mine? Shall I continue to be the laughing stock of the city, held at bay by a bunch of misfit outcasts and mutants? For god’s sake, man, are you not the world’s greatest warrior?”
The Prince knew that he had been mocked, not complimented. Indeed, he realized, the harm done by Griffon’s lies was great. Luckily, and with one fell swoop, he could repair all the damage. “These outcasts and mutants, as you call them, are a powerful enemy. Perhaps if we were to reform the Reavors--”
“The Reavors are disbanded for good, I’m afraid. Without Bullets to lead them, they amount to little more than a rag-tag band of outlaws. Even the police do not fear them, as they once did. Most of the gang is now dead or in jail.”
“A shame, really. I have heard that the flow of drugs out of the River District was a significant source of income for your family.”
Refrain shrugged. “Thirty million dollars a year, more or less. But it’s not just the money. It’s the losing. You know me, Lomac—I hate to lose.”
“And who was it, again?” Lomac asked with a knowing smile. “Who was it that destroyed the Reavors?”
The crime boss turned and glared angrily at his second in command. “You know who it was! It was that bitch, Ms. Marvelous. The same vile creature that put my son in prison. Ms. Marvelous. Ms. Marvelous!”
The name of the famous super-heroine slid off the crime lord’s tongue like venom dripping from a viper’s fangs. “Ms. Marvelous! That bitch! That despicable little twit of a bitch!” Prince Lomac continued to grin. Ah, yes, he thought, this was working out perfectly. “I will visit the Dark Water tomorrow, personally, to see that it is returned to your control, Mr. Refrain. But first, I wish to present you with a gift. Consider it a token of my appreciation for all that you have done for me since my country was overtaken by rebels.”
The crime boss regained his composure. His face, red from anger only a moment before, returned to its normal pasty white. “A gift? What kind of gift? What can you possibly have that would interest me?”
“A gift of the most exquisite beauty, sir. An item that you have cherished for a very long time.”
Don Refrain yawned. “Yes, get on with it. What is this gift?”
The Prince snapped his fingers. His bodyguards, Joey and Mikey, entered through the double doors. Rocko and Smitty followed. They carried a large aluminum rack shaped like the letter X. Don Refrain’s eyes widened as he saw what was attached to the front of the rack.
“Ms. Marvelous?” he asked in astonishment. “Can this be? You bring me Ms. Marvelous?” The four men set the rack on the floor in the center of the studio. They stood it upright so that the powerless heroine could be more easily examined by her new owner. She was held in a spread-eagle position. Her wrists and ankles were tightly bound within titanium clasps. A plastic oxygen mask covered her mouth and nose. A tube ran from the base of the mask to a bottle attached to the side of the rack. Gas seeped from the bottle and mixed with the air she breathed.
The crime boss approached the beautiful blonde. He allowed the hammer and chisel to drop from his hands. He carefully removed the mask from her face and peered into her half-open eyes. He examined her exposed breasts. He gazed at her bare stomach and thighs. “Yes, it is—It is Ms. Marvelous!”
“Of course!” confirmed the enthusiastic Prince. “Do not doubt it—It is, indeed, the one and only Ms. Marvelous. I captured her only tonight. My first thought was to bring her to you.” The crime lord glanced at his second in command dubiously. “I doubt seriously that bringing her to me was your first thought. I have often heard you express your desire to once again rape this woman. Tell me, did you… I mean, did she…”
“Cum?” the Prince asked without shame. “Do you want to know if she was brought to her climax?”
“Yes. Did you rape her? Does she still have her powers?”
Lomac nodded. “She still has her powers, though I assure you, she is quite helpless for the moment. The gas she has been breathing is powerful. She should be weak for some time. But I assure you, Don, no one has touched her. I wished to save that pleasure for you and you alone.”
“Very kind of you, I’m sure,” Refrain acknowledged skeptically. “But what is this? Surely someone has touched her?”
Both men looked toward the bulging fabric at the crotch of the heroine’s costume. “Oh, that,” the Prince laughed. “It’s nothing. Just a dildo meant to keep her under control. There is a vibrator in her ass for further assurance.”
Don Refrain nodded approvingly. “Yes, excellent. You have done well.”
The crime boss moved closer to the captured heroine. “How I have yearned for this,” he whispered to her. “How I have wanted to have my way with you.”
Refrain raised his hands and spread his stubby fingers. He reached for the helpless blonde’s naked breasts. He paused, his fingers mere inches away, and licked his lips lustfully. Finally, after several seconds, he stepped to the side and lowered his hands.
“Lomac,” he said quietly. “If you would… be so kind?”
The Prince did not hesitate. He walked quickly to the front of the rack and cupped the heroine’s breasts in his hands. He stroked her softly, dragging his fingers across her firm flesh in gentle, repetitive patterns. He leaned over and kissed her right nipple. He drew light circles around her small cup with his tongue, then gently pressed the hardening bud between his parsed lips. His right hand continued to massage her left tit, alternating between soft strokes and gentle pinches.
Lomac was pleased at how quickly the heroine’s body reacted to him. Even under the influence of the gas, the beautiful, oversexed, blonde responded to him as if he were the first man, the only man, to have ever touched her fair skin. Her perfect breasts quickly swelled. Her pink buds hardened. A soft moan came forth from her pouting lips.
“Yes, that’s it…” the crime boss whispered. “Show her who’s boss… Show her who her daddy is.” Lomac continued his work, enthusiastically sucking and kneading the bound heroine’s sensitive tits. He buried his face in her cleavage and pressed her engorged boobs together with his hands. He enjoyed the feeling of her warm breasts pressing against his cheeks. He breathed deeply, taking in her scent. Finally, he pulled back, but not before squeezing down on her swollen glands with extra force. “Very good, Prince Lomac,” the crime boss confirmed once again. “You have done well. Though I would have captured her myself, eventually, it is good to have the troublesome woman finally within our
power. She has been a nuisance to the Refrain family for far too long. Now, if you will be so kind, have your men remove her from my studio and take her into the parlor. Wait there for my arrival. There is someone else that I must tell of this. Someone that I am sure will share my enthusiasm for seeing Ms. Marvelous utterly humiliated and destroyed.”
Lomac watched the crime lord depart the room. His smile grew larger. He turned back to the hapless heroine and gently flicked at her left nipple with his finger. “Thank you, Ms. Marvelous,” he whispered into her ear. “Thank you for securing my future.”
Elle Mental stayed in the shadows and proceeded down a darkened hallway. She was cautious but also quick. With the lithe, agile movements of a cat, she quickly traversed the length of the passage and moved deeper into the massive confines of Othello Manor.
She arrived at the fourth floor balcony and peered over the railing. The Manor was a large building, but she discovered that much of the interior was consumed by a single, large, square, atrium. The room occupied the entire center portion of the larger structure and rose from the first floor all the way to the ceiling of the fourth. The enormous open area provided more than enough space to accommodate the four fully-grown Aspen trees that grew within. The trees reached upward, spreading their leafy branches toward a glass paneled ceiling above.
Beneath the Aspens’ white barked bows of wood, on a floor of polished granite, intermixed with exotic shrubs and flowers, sat luxurious pieces of furniture. The chairs, sofas, and tables were spread about and positioned to accommodate multiple groups of people. The room seemed more like the lobby of some luxury hotel than the main living area of a private residence.
On one side of the room were several giant screen televisions. They covered the wall, a dozen in all, each tuned to a different broadcast. World and local news were the favored type of programming. Gigantically rendered faces of anchormen and field reporters projected outward from the wall like the backlit faces of titans. Stock symbols and futures prices scrolled along the bottom of the screens. The harsh, flickering illumination of the screens filled the room with light. The televisions reminded the young brunette of a sports book in a large casino. But oddly, no sound came from the sets. All was quiet in the large room.
Two guards stood in front of the sets, talking softly to one another. They paid the faces of the titans no mind, other than to turn away so that their eyes were not dazzled by the light. The young brunette spotted two additional guards on the second floor balcony. They stood at opposite ends of the walkway and did not appear to be paying much attention to anything. A fifth guard slowly patrolled the perimeter of the third floor and, like the others, seemed more or less disinterested by his mundane task.
Elle silently made her way along the balcony, ignoring the doors that lined the wall. If Ms. Marvelous was here, and there was little doubt that she was, then she would certainly be on one of the lower floors, probably the main one. A stairway leading down was just ahead. As long as she did not run into any guards, she would be—
“Hello! What have we here?”
The voice startled the girl. She had been completely caught by surprise. A figure stepped out of the shadows near the stairs.
“Who might you be?” the man demanded roughly while pointing his pistol at the intruder’s naked chest. “One of Lomac’s whores, I suppose? I saw the Prince come in, but how did you find your way up here?”
She had difficulty understanding the ruffian due to his heavy, Cockney accent. But she understood the word “whore”, and did not particularly care for the way he was eyeing her bare breasts. “I am not one of Lomac’s whores, you fool,” she hissed. “Tell me where the Prince is, however, and I will allow you to live.”
The man’s eyes lit up. “What? Not a whore? Could have fooled me!”
He was looking at her exposed bush, now. The young brunette blushed in embarrassment and anger. She would have to teach this imbecile a lesson. But she needed to do it quietly so as not to alert the others.
“What say you and me pop into one of these rooms and do a quickie?” she asked warmly. “Damn straight,” the man replied. “Now you’re talking. But I ain’t paying. I figure it will be payment enough if I don’t tell the boss on you.”
The ruffian lowered his gun and approached her. He cupped her left breast in his hand and squeezed. She pushed him away. “Not here,” she suggested again. “Let us go inside one of the rooms so that no one sees us.”
“Whatever you say, ho,” he answered with a smile. “This one right here will do just fine.” She followed him inside. The man flicked a light switch. It was a small bedroom. A thin layer of dust covered the bed and nightstand.
“Who sleeps here?” she asked.
“Ah, nobody. The Manor is a big place, after all, and most of the better rooms are down below.” The man dropped his pistol on the nightstand and undid his belt.
“So, where did the Prince go, anyway?” she asked casually.
“What? Don’t you know?”
“Refresh my memory,” she suggested with a sexy smile.
“To the parlor, last I heard. Took the super-bitch with him. Damn, I wish I could be there! That blonde slut kicked the crap out of me last summer. I wish I could be there to see her get screwed.” The ruffian’s pants slid down around his ankles.
“The parlor? Where’s that?”
“You ask too many questions, ho. Come give me some.”
The slender brunette continued to smile as the thug reached for her. He was going for her tit again, but she would be damned if he would ever touch that again. A lightning fast roundhouse kick nearly took his smirking face off.
“I already told you, fool. I am not a whore.”
The ruffian dropped like a sack of grain and did not move. The female warrior figured that he would be unconscious for a long time. She turned off the light and slipped quietly out the door. She looked over the balcony railing. She was happy to see that none of the other guards had budged. They remained blissfully unaware of her presence.
“The parlor, huh?” she mumbled to herself. “Then that is where I must go.”
Ms. Marvelous could feel her strength returning. The gas mask had been removed. Her body was beginning to recover. She tested the shackles that bound her wrists and ankles. She was not yet strong enough to break free, but perhaps with a little more time.
But the dildo and vibrator were still inside her. The Sartak still smoldered. It was a catch-22, she knew. Without the potent gas to numb her body and subdue the sensations, her arousal would increase in intensity and keep her weak. But at least her mind was clearing, she decided. At least she could begin to understand what it was that was happening to her.
She knew that she was in the house of Refrain. It had been like a dream, before, his face so close to hers, leering, gloating, victorious. He was a monster, turning her dream into a nightmare. But while under the influence of the gas it had been just that-- a dream. Now, at least, she could react. She could struggle. She could fight to the last to retain her identity as Ms. Marvelous.
And nothing less was at stake. Her crime-fighting career, her pride, her very existence—It was all on the line. As the four goons carried her inside the parlor, the beautiful blonde heroine knew that there might be no tomorrow.
They set her down in the middle of a circular room. The floor was stainless steel, as was the wall. Ornaments hung from the wall-- trophies of past conquests. It was a familiar place, though she had never been there before.
“I see where your son gets his mental illness, Refrain,” she spoke toward a darkened balcony above. “But I beat Dante. I suppose that I can beat you, as well.”
The sound of harsh laughter, emanating from the balcony, echoed through the metal room. A light came on within, illuminating the occupants. Don Refrain scowled down at her. The bodyguard,
Gravestone, stood next to him. A second blue skinned mutant, this one a woman, sat to his left. Lomac stood slightly behind.
“My son’s arena was but a poor imitation of my own parlor, I assure you. Rest assured that the guests I entertain here are far more than college coeds and the occasional policewoman. You are but the latest in a long line of distinguished visitors.”
Ms. Marvelous looked about the room. Numerous sex toys and instruments of bondage hung from the walls. Different articles of clothing, police uniforms, business suits, and even a few super-hero costumes, were framed and mounted in various locations.
“You do have quite a collection of trophies, Refrain. I bet the police would be very interested to know how they came into your possession.”
Refrain laughed again. “Have you not yet learned that I own the police, silly girl? They dare not touch me lest they feel my wrath. I own Megapolis. I am Megapolis!”
Joey and Mikey stood in front of the captured beauty, beneath the balcony and near the wall. Rocko and Smitty stood behind, out of sight. “Why is it we never meet alone, Refrain? Why must you always bring your lackeys?”
“Ah, good! Full of bravado until the end. It is fitting, I suppose, that you continue to challenge me even in the face of your certain demise. But know this, champion—Tonight, it ends.” “Really?” the heroine asked defiantly. “Shall your lapdog, Lomac, continue to do your dirty work for you? Or Gravestone? Shall you never face me yourself, Refrain? Shall others always take up the fight for you?”
“Bah! I need not dirty my hands by touching you, super-slut. You are beneath me!” “A coward to the last, eh, Refrain? I would have expected more from the man that ‘owns’ Megapolis.”
The crime lord’s face turned red with anger. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the mutant female sitting at his left.
“Allow me to silence her, father,” she hissed. “I will put an end to her insults once and for all.” “You, my dear?” the crime boss asked. “But it seems only right that Lomac be given the opportunity.”
“But the Prince is injured, sire. Though he is usually quite dynamic--” the girl gave Lomac a lustful glance, “—I fear that he is unable to adequately entertain us tonight. Allow me, I beg, to take his place. Don Refrain looked at the Prince. The Warlord of Riberia shrugged in acquiescence. “Very well, my dear, I grant your request. But please, make it something special.”
The blue-skinned girl smiled evilly. “Oh, yes, father. You may count on it.”
Ms. Marvelous watched as the girl vaulted over the side of the balcony and dropped lightly to the stainless steel floor below. The beautiful heroine tried again to break free of the shackles that bound her. But though her strength was returning, she was still not strong enough to rip open the titanium latches.
“Do you wish to be freed?” the mutant asked with a smirk. “Very well, we shall make it so. Rocko! Smitty! Release the wench!”
The two thugs looked at each other and winced. Releasing the blonde tigress didn’t seem like the greatest idea in the world. But they did not dare to countermand the orders of Don Refrain’s adopted daughter.
“Yes, Nev. Right away.”
The two men approached the blonde heroine and looked again at one another. Without speaking, they made a decision and unlatched her ankles, first. They cautiously undid her wrists, then quickly grabbed her by the shoulders as her body slid down from the rack to the floor. They held her between them and looked to Nev for further instructions.
“Strip her,” the mutant female commanded.
Rocko and Smitty began tugging at the super-heroine’s costume in an attempt to remove it. Ms. Marvelous struggled to break free. She wrenched her right arm away and chopped Rocko in the throat. The thug gagged in agony and slumped to the floor. He tried to rise, but a kick to his face dropped him like a sack of potatoes.
Smitty tried to restrain the squirming heroine but she slid away from him. A kick to his groin caused him to howl. A knee lift to his chest drove him off his feet. He fell heavily on his back, out of the fight.
Ms. Marvelous turned to face off with Nev. The adrenaline coursing through her veins quickly faded, though, and her strength with it. The blonde champion moaned in agony as erotic sensations flooded her tortured body. Her movements agitated the sex toys buried inside her aching pussy and ass. She clutched her crotch and dropped to her knees.
“Joey!” the mutant witch commanded. “Strip the slut and remove the devices from her!” Joey did not hesitate. His hard-on had returned as stiff as ever and he wanted desperately to once again get his hands on the beautiful super-heroine. He pounced on her from behind and drove her face first to the floor. His hand groped her ass, jostling the vibrator that penetrated deep within her rectum.
“Do not resist, slut,” he warned. “You’ll only make it harder on yourself.”
The weakening heroine moaned loudly as he pressed his forefinger against her ass, driving the vibrator deeper inside her aching hole. Gradually, her struggles lessened, then stopped altogether. Her arms and legs went limp. Her bare breasts pressed against the cold surface of the stainless steel floor. Her mind was enshrouded in the Sartak. The strength she had regained now vanished. Her body became weak and lifeless.
Joey smiled. Once again, he had defeated the great Ms. Marvelous. She was helpless before him. If he wanted, he could fuck her right here, right now, in front of everyone. To hell with Lomac. To hell with Refrain. This bitch was his.
He stared down at beautiful heroine with a lustful burning in his eyes. The muscles of her back rippled, even in defeat. The graceful curve of her spine enticed him. The gentle slope of her waist and hips invited him. Her gorgeous round ass was in the air, begging him to fuck her. Her long legs lay beneath him, flat against the floor and spread for his convenience. He could not resist the temptation. His dick was about to tear through his pants.
He placed his hands on her slender waist and slowly slid his fingers upward across her smooth back. He guided his hands under the fabric of her costume, near her shoulder blades. The material was strange, sheer and deceivingly delicate, and beyond his ability to tear. But it stretched easily as he lifted it up and over the back of her head. He carefully pulled it clear of her long blonde hair, then pulled it downward toward her waist. The red and black costume peeled away from the heroine’s arms and body seductively. He assisted it over her hands, peeling it first away from her left, then her right. The long red sleeves and black gloves came off reluctantly, turned inside out. He left her arms at her sides, lying flat against the floor.
“Oh, yeah,” Joey muttered to himself as he pulled the costume down over the gorgeous blonde’s hips. Her ass was a thing of beauty. Her reddened hole stretched to accommodate the girth of the vibrator. The device’s stubby end peeked out—Just enough was showing that he could get his fingers around it.
The helpless champion whimpered as Joey ever so slowly extracted the evil toy. Inch by inch, he gradually pulled it farther out until, finally, the tapered tip slid free. The heroine sighed heavily as her agitated hole puckered and closed.
Shifting his position, Joey kneeled over his victim and forced her legs together. He slowly pulled the costume over her thighs and knees. The heroine’s slender, athletic legs seemed to go on forever. Finally he had it over her calves and feet. He dropped the costume on the floor next to the rack. “The dildo, too,” Wanda reminded the thug.
Joey smiled lustfully. He had not forgotten. He took the naked heroine by the arm and gently rolled her onto her back. He grabbed her ankles and forced her legs apart. He kneeled between them. He grabbed the base of the dildo and gently nudged it further inside his helpless victim’s vagina. Ms. Marvelous moaned softly as he plunged the foot long shaft nearly all the way inside her. “Stop…” she pleaded weakly. “Please… don’t…”
Joey was thrilled. The great Ms. Marvelous was begging him for mercy. He ran his left hand across her tight abdominal muscles. As she writhed under him, the intensity of his hard-on increased. God, this woman was hot! He thought he might explode out of his pants.
The blonde heroine’s long legs, bent at the knees, were limp and lifeless. They were spread wide, giving her attacker easy access to her womanhood. The outside of her thighs lay nearly flat on the floor. The inside of her thighs, silky smooth and glistening with a light film of perspiration, invited Joey to come closer. He slowly ran his hands down their length, from her knees to her nether mouth, then once again jostled the dildo deeper inside her.
The heroine’s moans grew louder. The rubber device tormented her. She had taken in nearly its entire twelve-inch length. Her wet pussy sent pangs of erotic pleasure coursing through her body. A massive orgasm was building inside of her. She didn’t know how much more she could take.
Her arms lay flaccidly at her sides. As the dildo was worked around inside of her, the young beauty’s back arched and lifted off the floor. Her swollen breasts jutted toward the ceiling above. She squirmed in exquisite agony as her tormentor brought her close to a climax. Her eyes closed and she bit her lower lip. Her face contorted as she fought against the sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. “Please… Oh, god… please…”
“Joey,” Nev interrupted, “remove the device.”
He ignored the command. He was too caught up in the moment, too absorbed by this woman at his mercy. She writhed beneath him, arching her back as he rammed the dildo deep inside her, then relaxing and falling back to the floor as he partially removed it. He was in total control of the naked blonde, he knew. The great Ms. Marvelous was helpless before him. She was his sex slave. He was her master.
“Joey, remove the device, now!”
Joey looked toward Nev and scowled. Who was this woman that she should give him orders, he wondered? Did she not realize that he had defeated Ms. Marvelous not once, but twice? By right, the heroine belonged to him. Who was this blue-skinned freak that he should give up his prize to her?
The mutant seemed to sense his thoughts. Her eyes flashed in anger. The very air around her seemed to glow. The room began to grow warm. Then hot. In seconds, it was literally sweltering within the parlor.
Joey swallowed hard. Beads of sweat rolled off his face. The scowl on his face turned into a grimace of fear. The mutant was Nev Refrain, a voice inside him answered. She was known as Heatwave. It was a fitting name. Her ability to superheat things made her a powerful force. The fact that she was the adopted daughter of Don Refrain made her all the more imposing. To defy her was to court certain death. No woman, even Ms. Marvelous, was worth risking that.
“Whatever you say, Heatwave. Just pull in the claws.”
Joey quickly returned his attention to the powerless heroine. She lay on her back, unmoving and apparently unaware of what was going on around her. Joey fingered the base of the dildo. The young blonde writhed in torment as he slowly extracted it from her aching pussy. The rubber shaft of the thing slid out easily. It was covered in her juices. As the knobby tip finally came free, a wash of her fluids flowed out of her hole and onto the floor.
The heroine’s body went completely limp. Her eyelids fluttered as she teetered on the edge of a massive orgasm. Her mind was completely swallowed up within the velvety embrace of the Sartak. She lay still, clothed only in her mask and boots, completely at the mercy of her cruel hosts.
“I suggest we extend our pleasure by giving the bitch a moment to recover, Nev,” Don Refrain spoke from the balcony.
“As you wish, father,” the mutant replied. Heatwave turned off her power but continued to glare at Joey. She motioned for him to stand and back away from the defenseless blonde beauty. He obediently did as he was told, returning to his place near the wall. Satisfied that the man would defy her no more, the mutant stepped forward and stood over the heroine known as Ms. Marvelous.
“So, you are the woman that put my brother in prison? You are the woman that defeated the great Gravestone? The woman that destroyed the Reavors? I would have expected more. You are nothing but a girl-- a pink-skinned, slight of build, powerless little girl.”
Heatwave waited for a response and was disappointed when none was forthcoming. The heroine did not seem to hear her at all. What was going on in her blonde head, Nev wondered? What weakness was this that could reduce a super-powerful warrior into the trembling mass of flesh that she now saw before her?
But Heatwave didn’t really care. She had heard the rumors about Ms. Marvelous, of the way she responded to sensual stimulation. Of how sex could be used to defeat her in battle. She had just never really believed it. But seeing was believing. And it did not matter. This way was as good as any other, she supposed, perhaps better. She would humiliate the heroine and make her pay for the damage she had done to the Refrain family.
Heatwave stood tall over the fallen warrior, her toes nearly touching the woman’s left arm. Black, stiletto heeled boots covered her calves and rose high on her thighs. A black bikini bottom exposed most of her hips. A slim tube top covered her chest, but left her midriff and shoulders bare. The costume revealed a lot of skin, but was necessary if she wanted to maximize her mutant power.
She had the ability to radiate heat. Normal clothing would burst into flames when she turned up the heat, so she relied on a special fabric known as Tekskin. Though durable and heat resistant, the Tekskin was a natural insulator that deadened the heat she was radiating, so she preferred to wear as little as possible.
The one exception she made was her boots. It was an allowance for her womanly vanity, she supposed, but the boots made her look good. And even though most of her legs were covered she still radiated more than enough heat from her upper body to make up the difference. The stiletto heels made her three inches taller, which was important since she naturally stood only five foot eight. She didn’t like men towering over her. Especially subordinates like Joey.
Nev lifted her head high in the air and looked at the rebuked man smugly. He stared back boldly, but wisely did not challenge her. A large bulge threatened to tear through his denim pants. “The fool,” she thought. “Allowing himself to be so smitten by the beauty of another.”
She looked down on the blonde heroine jealously. She had seen how the men in her father’s gang responded to her, how they spoke lustfully of raping her, of using her weakness to make her their prisoner. She had always assumed that they spoke of such things because they hated the heroine. Now, while viewing her great beauty for herself, she was not so sure.
Heatwave felt an odd stirring within her. She herself had on occasion enjoyed the pleasures of female flesh. She herself had participated in the games that took place in her father’s parlor. So, she was not completely unsympathetic to the erotic desires of the men under her command. As she looked down on the helpless female warrior, she too felt a stirring of desire. As she took in the sight of the beautiful blonde’s long, lightly tanned legs, spread wide and inviting, she too felt a twinge of excitement. As she scoped out her athletic hips and slender waist, and as she viewed her perfect, firm breasts and her femininely muscled shoulders and arms, she too began to yearn. Ah, to touch her hard nipples, to stroke her sweet womanhood—The blue-skinned mutant could now understand the desires of her insubordinate comrade.
“Joey, shackle the wench.”
The aroused ruffian stepped forward immediately at the command, anxious to again touch the beautiful blonde. He stepped across her motionless form and stood above her for several long seconds. His ankles slipped inside of her arms and straddled her ribs. Sensing his presence, the nearly unconscious woman placed her hands on his calves. Her touch was soft and weak. Through half closed eyes she looked up at him, glancing first at his face and then at the huge bulge protruding from the crotch in his pants.
Joey might have stood there forever, a victorious master over his powerless slave, but for the presence of Nev. He knew that she was already upset with him and did not wish to rankle the mutant further. Figuring that he had already delayed too long, he quickly leaned over and grabbed the blonde heroine under her shoulders. He hoisted her up, pulling her between his legs and rubbing her naked form across his abdomen and chest. Her arms were limp and her legs lifeless, but his strong hands supported her weight easily. He gazed into her glassy eyes for a few seconds, then effortlessly hoisted her over his right shoulder.
Ms. Marvelous lay still, as if little more than a sack of grain thrown over the shoulder of a farmer. She was only somewhat aware of the real world. Most of her mind still lay ensnared within the realm of the Sartak. Her orgasm remained restless inside her, unfulfilled and impatient. Her upper body hung downward across Joey’s back. Her left arm dangled limply. Her blonde hair, tangled and disheveled, fell toward the floor below.
Joey wrapped his right arm around the heroine’s thighs. Her hip pressed against the side of his face. He motioned to Mikey to push the aluminum rack out of the way. He then looked toward the balcony and nodded.
The mutant bodyguard, Gravestone, smiled in acknowledgement. He pressed a button on a small control panel near the balcony railing. An electric wench, mounted in the ceiling, began to hum. It dropped a chain toward the floor below. Attached to the end of the chain were two shackles.
Joey watched the chain lower into position, then gave the big mutant bodyguard the signal to stop. The wench ground to a halt. Joey tested the chain to make sure that it was locked in place, then lowered the heroine from his shoulder.
He raised her right arm and fastened one of the shackles around her wrist. He did the same with her left. Satisfied that she was adequately secured, he released her weight and allowed her stand under her own power.
Ms. Marvelous stood weakly in the center of the room, gripping the chain in her hands. Her wrists were held at chin level, secured inside titanium shackles. She leaned back and pulled at the chain, but didn’t have near the strength to free herself. She looked toward the blue-skinned mutant standing a few feet away. Oh, god, she wondered. What did this woman have in store for her?
Heatwave signaled Joey to return to his position next to the wall. She stepped closer to the weakened heroine and smiled evilly. She stepped around behind her and moved in close so that they were touching. She wrapped her left arm around the young blonde’s waist to prevent her from moving away. She pressed her chest tightly against the heroine’s back. Her hips gyrated against the heroine’s rear. Her right hand slid around the blonde’s body and cupped her breast. She gave it a good squeeze and enjoyed the feeling of the once proud champion squirming inside her arms.
“Your end is at hand, Ms. Marvelous,” she whispered into the young beauty’s ear. You shall not escape. Not this time. Never again shall you defy the Refrain family.”
Ms. Marvelous whimpered softly as the molestation continued. The fingers of her tormentor were strong, yet touched her softly. They danced across her breast in the most delicate manner, touching her in the tender ways that only a woman could understand and in the secret places that only a woman could know. Sensations flooded her tortured body. Once again, her mind began to surrender to the velvety embrace of the Sartak.
“Stop… I beg you… stop…”
The heroine’s pleas fell on deaf ears. Heatwave continued to grind her hips against the supple butt of her prisoner, using her mutant power to add a little heat to the mix. She projected heat through her fingertips, as well, warming up the young blonde’s already aching right breast and further stimulating the flow of blood that rushed into the soft mound. The gland became over stimulated and engorged, swelling until it was noticeably larger than usual. Not wanting to neglect the left breast, Heatwave raised her other hand and began playing with it, as well.
“I’ll not stop until you are destroyed. How many orgasms will it take, I wonder? Two? Three? Five? No matter—I will continue until you are dead. This is your last night on this world, my sweet Ms. Marvelous. Enjoy it, if you can.”
The beautiful heroine moaned softly as she slipped further into the clutches of sensual overload and shock. Her swelling breasts ached. Her hardening nipples felt like they might explode. Her legs were failing her. The chain to which she was shackled now supported most of her weight. Her arms no longer struggled against the restraints. Her head fell backward and her eyes closed. She was tired, so very tired. Tired of fighting her opponents. Tired of resisting the erotic desires that burned within her. She wanted to give in. She wanted to give herself up to the massive orgasm that smoldered within her.
But she couldn’t. The part of her mind that still existed in the real world, the part that was still Ms. Marvelous, screamed that she had to continue the fight, even though it seemed hopeless. She reminded herself that she and Heatwave were not alone. Others watched from the balcony above. Without opening her eyes, she imagined them gloating, imagined them lustfully eyeing her naked body. Gravestone and Prince Lomac-- both old foes that had waited long to see her destruction. And Don Refrain, in particular, his pale white skin flush with the excitement of witnessing the destruction of his greatest foe in his parlor of sadism. The thought that he would mount her beloved costume on his wall as
a trophy frightened and angered her. She would not give him the satisfaction, she decided. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her ravaged.
“I will fight you until the end,” the defiant heroine whispered hoarsely.
Nev, thinking the heroine spoke to her, snickered. “The end will be soon, bitch.” She shifted her position, moving around in front of her powerless opponent and kneeling. She slid her hands between the young woman’s athletic thighs and gently spread her legs. She admired the girl’s gorgeous pussy for several seconds, then leaned in closer and softly blew a warm stream of air against her pink nether lips.
Ms. Marvelous closed her eyes and braced herself for what she knew must be coming. Her pussy was dripping wet and tingling in anticipation. Despite her brave words, she knew that the end was near. There was no preventing it. Her abused body was on fire. She burned with an uncontrollable fever. Her strength was gone. Her legs, lifeless and seemingly no longer under her control, were spread and open. Her womanhood was exposed and vulnerable. Her orgasm was growing more insistent. She would resist and suppress it for as long as she could, but in the end it would overcome her. Like a force of nature, there could be no stopping it.
Her body shuttered as Heatwave’s mouth made contact with her sensitive nether lips. The mutant’s tongue slid slowly along the length of her slit, sending wave after wave of sensations flooding through her tortured body. It found her clit and gently lapped at the swelling bud, causing it to stand at attention. The blonde heroine’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she moaned loudly. The Sartak threatened to swallow her up completely.
Ms. Marvelous realized that it was pointless to resist. Heatwave’s tongue owned her, body and soul. It was her master. It slurped at her most sensitive and vulnerable regions with unrelenting vigor, causing her once powerful body to alternately spasm in ecstasy and go limp in exhaustion. Her orgasm was building to its peak. It could not be held back much longer.
An evil hackle came from the balcony above. Don Refrain’s victorious laughter resounded through the room like a harpy’s cry. “Yes!” he cried out. “Yes, Nev, make her suffer!” Heatwave continued to exercise her mutant power, adding her own heat to that being generated by the defenseless heroine’s own burning arousal. The naked body of her victim glistened with moisture. Her moans came forth uninhibited, filling the parlor and the spectators within with hot desire. Sweat beaded their skin and the room became musky with the odor of their perspiration. The mutant dominatrix slid her forefinger into her tormented victim’s wet pussy. The slender heroine writhed against the chain in exquisite agony. She knew that she could not take much more. Her orgasm was ready to explode. It was close. It was so close. There was nothing she could do. “Yes!” the voice of Don Refrain cried out again. “Yes! Finally, the end of Ms. Marvelous!”