Blissful Fate: Page 1
The cold air nipped at their bare skin as the two superheroines stood in front of the seedy club in the middle of Pound Town. Pound Town, being the unfortunate but appropriate name for Vanguard City’s red-light district. Everything about the place screamed debauchery and depravity.
Looking around, it wasn’t hard to see how the neighborhood got its name. Prostitutes stood on every corner, closely monitored at a safe distance by pimps of all shapes and sizes. Two pairs of eyes, brown and light blue, watched as people slowly moved along the dirty cracked concrete, window shopping the various array of sex shops, brothels and strip clubs that lined them.
“I hate everything about this place, Victoria…” Sara Morgan muttered under her breath, a soft stream of white breath misting in the cold air in front of her lips.
Brunette locks fluttered as Victoria Pierce turned to her partner and let out a soft sigh. Neither heroine relished coming to this side of the tracks but for entirely different reasons.
Sara’s alter ego Shade avoided all things sexual as much as possible. Her weakness, The Shadow, made her more susceptible to sexual attention than any of her heroine counterparts. She had been pushed further than she’d like on numerous occasions, but the depths of The Shadow’s control over her had yet to be fully experienced.
As for Victoria, the scummy streets of Pound Town reminded her not only of the neighborhood she grew up in, but also of her first mission as the vigilante superheroine Eclipse. A memory she wished she could forget. She suppressed a shudder, forcing the memory from her mind.
“Me too, Sara…” Victoria sighed.
Neither heroine had worked together for an elongated period before, but circumstance had brought them together a week ago. Shade had stumbled upon a drug deal gone bad behind a local night club known as DV8. A club she knew all too well from her own past. Apparently, two young girls wanted to elevate their night by purchasing some illegal narcotics…. a drug Vanguard City had never seen before. Only the scene went bad for them in a hurry when the young gang bangers they were buying from turned on them.
All it took was a pair of tiny capsules, crushed underneath their noses, to reveal how dangerous this drug really was. Only moments after the capsules had been crushed, their eyes seemed to glow purple as the two girls crumpled to their knees with a bellowing moan and began pawing at their own bodies. From a distance, Shade watched in horror as the two girls panted out into the winter air, protesting and crying out for help…even as it appeared they were willing participants in the lewd back alley tryst. Both girls, acting to satiate the needs that their bodies were suddenly crying out for, reached out for the pants of each of the gang bangers and began fishing out their cocks….right there in the middle of the alley.
There was a strange sense of conflict in the young women, as if their minds were screaming “No” but their bodies were crying out “Yes”. The two clubbers went from rich girls looking for a good time to skeezy Pound Town prostitutes in a matter of seconds, desperately seeking only one thing… pleasure.
couldn’t wait any longer. Springing into action, she darted through the
trash-filled alley and charged the half-dozen thugs all having their
way with the helpless young women. Within moments three of the men were
on the ground, unconscious or incapacitated by her unmatched Krav Maga
When she turned to face the other goons, a stunning brunette in a black-and-red leotard dropped out of the sky and into the alleyway. Eclipse moved like a tornado, taking out the other three in half the time it took Shade to dispatch her own.
But just as they turned to face one another, both heroines were suddenly blasted in the face by a thick cloud of purple gas. One of the thugs wasn’t quite out and managed to bring up a tiny spray can. The details were fuzzy in Shade’s memory after that, but she vaguely remembered both of them sucking on the thug’s cock before blacking out and waking up in a dumpster with the two other girls a few hours later, drugged and exhausted, a single word echoing through her mind…
While Shade had no interest in looking for the origin of whatever gas they were sprayed with that put them into a lust-fueled rampage, Eclipse insisted that this drug Bliss, or whatever the hell it was called, was already running rampant through Sentinel City. Reports of rape, burglary and vandalism had skyrocketed in the last week. Even worse, superheroines throughout the city and beyond had gone missing, searching for this mysterious drug… including the only few that Shade could call friends.
Using Daphne McAlester’s unparalleled digital technology, Sara and Victoria managed to track this drug Bliss back to a scummy nightclub in Poundtown called Kismet… ironically named after a goddess of fate. One look and Sara already hated the place.
Running a hand through her purple and brown hair, Sara groaned softly, knowing that the drug, combined with her own weakness to sexual stimulation, was her kryptonite. And in a way she was right, but participating in an investigation was like walking into the lion’s den for Sara.
“It’s going to be o…” Eclipse started to say, placing a hand on Sara’s shoulder only to have the shorter brunette pull away reflexively.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Sara replied tersely, taking a step toward the entrance.
Stepping through the dirty looking metal door, the two heroines began walking down a long set of disgusting stone stairs and down into the subbasement. The dark stone walls and floor were rotted and cracked, and the women’s heels echoed with each step as they made their way deeper into the darkness. It was almost as if they were walking through a horror movie, expecting a killer to jump out of the shadows at any moment. Finally they reached a door at the end of the hallway and pushed it open, crossing the threshold beyond.
The change of scenery was almost abrasive as they stepped into Kismet. Purple spotlights rolled around the massive underground room, lasers cutting though the dim lighting, clearly visible in the smoke that filled the club from the machines on stage.
“What the hell…” Eclipse whispered, her eyes wide as she scanned the room, staring at the “show” in front of them. In the middle of the room was a large stage with a pole in the middle of it, where a brunette with ‘70s Farrah Fawcett stylehair, a green bikini and shimmering golden gloves wasspinning around upside down on the pole as a dozen or so horny men watched her with rapt attention.
“This is disgusting…” Sara muttered as they crept deeper into the club.
Lining the walls were a half dozen smaller stages with other women dancing on them, all wearing different themes of costumes — Cowgirl, Slave Leia, Wonder Woman, cheerleader, police officer and a school girl. At the opposite end of the room was a bar with a busty blue haired woman behind it serving drinks to a couple of waitresses who waited to bring their orders to their clients. The room was absolutely packed with easily 40 or so patrons that couldn’t get a woman if their life depended on it. Obese businessmen, skinny perverts and depraved criminals seemed to be the order of the day as they shelled out thousands of dollars to the women on stage.
As they weaved through the tiny tables, chairs and benches, Sara let out an irritated huff. Her nose wrinkled, assaulted by the strange smells in the club. The pungent aroma of sweat and body odor, cheap perfume and something else she couldn’t identify almost smothered their senses like a glove.
“This is so fucking gross. Are you sure we’ll find anything here?” Sara growled as the heat of the club seemed to climb slightly, sweat prickling on her forehead.
“Daphne is never wrong with her intel, Sara. We need to talk to some of the girls,” Victoria reassured her once more. “This place reeks of sex…” She grimaced slightly.
Sara drew a deep breath, filling her lungs with the strangely thick air. Trying to compose herself and take the bitch level down a notch, she released her held breath and looked up into her partners big doe eyes before giving a soft nod. It was as close as she got to an apology but Victoria didn’t deserve the attitude for trying to make the city a better place. She’d never noticed it before, but Victoria had a very classic beauty to her, her perfectly symmetrical features, long flowing chestnut locks and her bright blue sultry eyes. She had never been interested in women, and maybe it was their set back they had together, but for some reason Sara found her quite fetching at the moment.
“Alright, let’s see what we can find,” she replied in her best almost-considerate tone.
As they ventured around the club, both heroines could feel dozens of eyes undressing them from the darkness. It wasn’t surprising; Victoria had the idea that they should dress a bit more scandalous to fit in with the crowd, and Sara had steered into the curve as much as she could stomach. Her low-cut purple tanktop revealed way more of her breasts than she would have liked, and the pendant around her neck called attention to the swell of her cleavage by hanging right down into the valley between them. Her long legs were covered by the soft lace stockings that came up to her mid thigh. And against her better judgement, Victoria had convinced her to wear a leather skirt that barely covered the lower bits of her ass cheeks.
Sara sighed as she looked back at her partner and felt a warm flush creep over her cheeks. Victoria was wearing a skin-tight leather dress that showed off every bit of her curvaceous body. Her dark eye shadow and her curled locks accented the classic beauty of her features. She could feel that growing heat spread a little more as she watched the swirling purple smoke curling around her body, almost as if she was something out of a wet dream. Without even realizing it, Sara bit down on her lower lip as she felt her nipples harden ever so slightly underneath her top.
What the hell was happening to her? She never thought about other women like this and she certainly didn’t know what Victoria’s sexual orientation was either. But from the looks of it, Victoria was enjoying the show as well. Two tiny little nubs at the tips of her breasts strained against the satin fabric of her dress.
Jesus, Sara. Focus.
Shaking her head to clear her mind, Sara followed Victoria past the main stage, searching for some sort of door or access to anything off of the main floor. The thumping base of the music ceased for a minute as the stripper with the retro hair and green bikini slinked off the stage, collecting the dozens of hundred dollar bills that had been tossed up from horny patrons.
“Okay, we should probably try to sneak backstage and… owww!” Sara exclaimed.
“What is it?” Victoria asked, turning around.
Sara narrowed her eyes. Someone had definitely grabbed her ass. Most of the leering men were too far away, or too drunk to do anything except topple off their barstools. It had to be one of the strippers – a tall, tan blonde dressed in a V-shaped red bikini with matching gloves and thigh-high boots. She flashed Sara a mischievous smile before she turned, disappearing into the crowd.
Sara paused. There was something familiar about her… but what?
“Well it’s about time you two showed up,” said a voice.
Sara and Victoria turned to find the stripper with the Farrah Fawcett-style hair staring back at them, her skin glistening with sweat and her hair matted down from the workout of pole dancing.
“Excuse me?” Victoria asked, her long hair swinging behind her.
“You’re thirty minutes late. Now hurry up and get changed in the dressing room before the Boss sees you,” the stripper said. “Don’t worry, you two are skanky enough…you’ll make good money here. Just stay off my Charlie’s Angels theme.”
“Oh, but we’re not strip…”
Victoria looked back at Sara, whose attention had been drawn to a freckled redheaded stripper who was on her knees in front of a patron that barely looked 18. Head bobbing back and forth, she was giving the young man the most enthusiastic blowjob he’d ever received, either unaware or not caring that dozens of people all around her could see her.
Sara’s jaw tightened in disgust at the lewd act. What kind of woman would willingly do something like that in front of dozens of people?
“…slut…” Sara whispered under her breath.
“Look here miss high and mighty,” the brunette stripper snapped. “We all have to pay the bills around here. You’d better change into something a whole lot sluttier if you want to, too.”
The stripper pushed Sara away as she stormed off towards the dressing room.
Almost instinctively, Victoria wrapped her arms around Sara to keep her from toppling over. Leaning back into her, Sara could feel how warm her friend’s body was, how firm her breasts felt and how her hard nipples dug into Sara’s shoulders from behind. Both women’s breath hitched in the form of an audible gasp when they felt their bodies pressing up against one another.
Sara pushed away first, straightening her skintight skirt.
“Smooth, Sara. Real smooth,” Victoria muttered. “You know, every once in a while it helps when people actually like you… especially when you’re sneaking around a skeevy nightclub.”
“I-…” Sara whispered, her voice cracking slightly as that strange cocktail of scents continued assaulting their nostrils. “Whatever… let’s just check out the dressing room.”
“Try to be nice, okay?” Victoria asked.
Sara growled. “I am nice.”
Blissful Fate: Page 2
Victoria Pierce gestured across the smoky confines of Kismet toward a curtain covered door at the far end of the club.
Sara Morgan turned her head and spotted the door. Covered by a thick, dark purple curtain, it was hard to see through the musty air and the low lighting of the club, probably by design.
Pushing past Victoria, Sara began storming toward the doorway angrily. She knew they were undercover, but this place was pissing her off already. She had been pinched, ogled and gawked at by some of the most lecherous, and undesirable men she could imagine. Men were the worst… always trying to take advantage of her… practically beasts, enslaved to their baser emotions. Sara had no time for them.
“Slow down, Sara…” Victoria whispered at her from behind as she hurried to catch up with her friend. “Just take a sec and breathe.”
A huff of anger escaped Sara’s nostrils as she drew a breath and exhaled sharply, trying to compose herself. Her eyes closed as Victoria squeezed her bare shoulder gently, trying to reassure her that everything was going to be ok.
Gently pushing past her, Victoria slowly walked through the curtains and crossed the threshold leading into the dressing room. As they pushed through into the room beyond, the sight was everything that one could expect from a seedy club such as Kismet. Dozens of girls shuffled around wearing little more than panties, brazen and completely unashamed that their breasts were on display for all to see.
The odd part were their expressions. Each girl was smiling these humongous, nearly painful smiles as they applied their makeup, adjusted their skintight bras or checked their reflections in the mirror. To her left, Sara spotted the stripper with the 70s-style hair and green bikini, staring at her as she brushed her luscious locks. To her right was a platinum blonde girl with a sexy Captain America vibe going on. She wore skimpy red-and-white panties, a blue bra patterned with white stars and shimmering silver gloves and boots.
Sara frowned as she caught the blonde staring at her with an odd, almost hungry expression.
“Uh, Vic?” Sara asked, looking away. “Do the girls look a bit odd to you?”
Victoria swallowed, hard. “You mean like they look like they wanna bone us?”
“No, their eyes,” Sara insisted. “They’re all glazed and glassy and tinted purple. Just like those girls we found all hopped up on Bliss and—AH!”
Sara gasped softly as a tall, bald white man in a cheap pinstripe suit stepped out from her left, making both girls stop dead in their tracks.
Looking between the pair he laughed softly, the smell of cigar smoke heavy on his breath. “Relax sweet thing. Most girls are nervous their first night.” His blue eyes scanned up and down their bodies, making no effort to hide it.
“Big Daddy said we had two new girls starting at my club,” he continued, walking a wide circle around them, appraising them as if they were cattle going up for auction. Almost instinctively the two women pressed against one another, the large man towering over them, his 6’6 height making them feel minuscule.
“Just play along…” Victoria whispered to her friend softly as she heard Sara’s breath quicken in anger.
Sara narrowed her eyes. “Listen, pal. I don’t know who you think you are…”
“Shut up,” the owner snapped back at her, not even bothering to look into her eyes as he tilted his head to the other side, taking in the sight of them. “I am known by many names. But you two… you can call me Lord.”
Reaching down behind her, Victoria squeezed her friend’s hand behind their backs to calm her down.
Sara was absolutely seething with anger, nostrils flared, breath huffing through them noisily. Her fingers closing around Sara’s seemed to calm her purple haired friend, making Sara’s body language soften slightly. Strong hands grabbed each of their shoulders and pulled the pair of cowering women apart from each other, giving them a shove toward the row of desks and vanity mirrors.
“You,” the man barked at Victoria making her head snap back toward him. “You work stage 4…Your tits will drive them crazy,” he said, talking about her breasts as if it was little more than the weather.
Victoria’s cheeks burned bright red as she looked at the vanity in front of her, seeing her own reflection in the mirror above it. Her eyes traveled downward toward the latex outfit folded on the desktop in front of her. It was dark red with a silver trim. Little more than boy shorts and a sports bra to cover up her entire, voluptuous body. Next to it was a pair of the tallest heels that she’d ever seen, making her sure she would break an ankle if she so much as tripped.
“I…uh…sir. I don’t….” She stammered awkwardly as she clumsily began unfolding the outfit in front of her.
“Don’t care, Jugs” the owner replied dismissively.
“You,” He continued, immediately turning away from Victoria and back toward Sara. “Serve drinks. Your ass is so big it might not even fit on stage”
“Listen here assho—” Sara barked back only to have the man turn his back on them and walk toward the other end of the room, leaving them alone among the other women at their so called work stations.
“What a dick,” Victoria muttered under her breath.
Sara began to unfold her own costume on the vanity, her eyes going wide in both fear and rage when she realized what her ‘waitress’ outfit actually was. Made out of satin instead of latex, it looked more like a harem girl’s garb than a waitress. The soft purple bra and panties were smooth to the touch, and there was a thin, MUCH TOO see-through, skirt that she was supposed to wear around her waist made of some sort of ultra thin cashmere or something. Even the footwear was different, thigh high boots with a 6 inch heel that almost made her as tall as Victoria.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Sara groaned.
Whipping around to face Victoria angrily, Sara felt soft hands grabbing her biceps as the taller brunette looked down into her eyes. The soft feeling of her fingers on
Sara’s skin made her blush slightly again. What the hell was going on with her?!
“Let it go, Sara,” Victoria reassured her. “This might actually work out better. I—I’ll distract them on stage…you try and sneak through the crowd and into the back. Get the evidence and we’re out of her within the hour. Then we never have to step foot in this fucking hell-hole again.”
Sara’s breasts were heaving with anger, eyes blazing skeptically, but for some reason she decided that she would follow Victoria’s lead. Drawing a deep breath of the smoky air, she sighed again and released the held breath.
“…fine…” She growled as she grabbed the clothing off the desk and began to get changed. . “But I do NOT have a fat ass.”
Blissful Fate: Page 3
God, this is humiliating.
Victoria Pierce was a superheroine. A masked vigilante trained in over fifteen types of martial arts with an armored super-suit that was outfitted in the latest nanotechnology. She had spent years patrolling the scum-invested streets of her hometown. All the late midnight patrols… the bruised ribs and broken bones… the close calls and death-defying risks… the nameless goons and dogmatic criminal masterminds… Victoria would do almost anything to protect the good citizens of Sentinel City.
But not this.
Standing half-naked onstage in skimpy red and sliver panties and a bra that hardly left anything to the imagination, bathed in hot purple lights smack-dab in some scummy night club called Kismet.
But there was another reason Victoria hated this place. According to Daphne McAlester’s intel, Kismet was secretly funded by the millionaire turned criminal mastermind, Edward Sloane. Even though he was still in jail serving multiple life sentences, Sloane was still financing many of his illegal operations through privately funded accounts with false aliases.
The thought that Victoria was here, dressed like a common hooker in a nightclub funded by the very man who killed her parents…
Get ahold of yourself, Vic, she thought. Sloane’s gone. Just focus on the mission.
A bead of sweat trickled between her bare shoulder blades. The air was almost suffocating, clogged with cheap perfume and rancid body odor. Squinting past the flashing stage lights and tendrils of purple smoke, Victoria could feel a dozen eyes undressing her—perverted old men, repressed business types, horny truckers, a couple jocks who must’ve used a fake ID to get in…
“C’mon, sugar!” shouted a familiar voice. “Shake that ass!”
Victoria could see the faint silhouette of Sara Morgan amongst the crowd, her boots glittering purple as she carried a tray of drinks. Victoria shot her a look like, I’m totally going to punch you in the face when this is all over.
Still, Sara had a point. Everyone in Kismet was staring at her now. She’d even caught the attention of the club’s owner, who was standing near the back of the stage with his burly arms folded impatiently. She had to start dancing, to buy Sara some time to sneak backstage, or this whole operation would be a bust.
Slowly, she turned towards the stripper pole. She felt strangely alone now, trapped in a pool of purple light. The lights started flashing as a synthesized beat reverberated beneath the stage.
Well, it’s now or never.
The pole was cold and slimy to the touch. Victoria recoiled a moment, then touched it again. The pole felt warmer now. Welcoming. Before she knew it, Victoria grabbed hold of the pole and swung herself around, arcing one leg into the air.
“Yeah, baby!” Sara yelled. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”
Victoria’s cheeks burned red with embarrassment. For a moment she
thought about leaving—jumping off the stage and making a beeline for the
But then she heard other voices. Catcalls. Whistles.
“Oh yeah, here we go!”
“Let’s see that ass, babe!”
Victoria wrapped her leg around the pole, this time spinning a full three-sixty.
More catcalls. More whistles.
Her face was burning. Not just with embarrassment… something else, too. Excitement, maybe? Her whole body felt so alive, like every sinew in her body was coursing with adrenaline. She stood up, turning back towards the stripper pole.
And that’s when she saw him.
Past all the dirty, stained chairs and perverted smiles, over back by the bar. Their eyes met, if only for a second.
When she blinked, he was gone.
In his place was a sweaty old trucker, giving her a toothy grin.
Great. Two minutes onstage and I’m already losing my mind.
Victoria turned her attention back towards the stripper pole, already sizing up her next move.
But there he was again. This time lounging on one of the sofa chairs.
She rubbed her eyes and he was gone.
T… that’s impossible.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Victoria knew something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
But she couldn’t stop—her hands, her body wouldn’t obey her mind anymore. She spun around the pole again, spread her legs wide and slapped her ass so hard, it left a handprint.
God, her nipples were already hard as diamonds.
All the while he was watching.
He was everywhere. He was everyone.
His pale eyes seemed to pierce through the smoky haze, boring right into her skull.
And still she couldn’t stop. She pressed her back flat against the poll, grinding it up and down as her hands caressed every inch of her curvaceous body. She was moaning now, deep animal-like sounds as a warm climax was slowly built between her thighs.
Her hands were pale and clammy, gripping the back of the pole.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed low. The music faded into the background.
And a familiar voice echoed through her mind, so close it felt like he was whispering in her ear.
Blissful Fate: Page 4
Sara Morgan frowned as she watched her partner and friend Victoria grind against the pole on center stage, lost amidst a cloud of purple swirling mist, Victoria’s mind awash with perverse sexual fantasies—wanted or not.
Whoa, she’s really getting into it, Sara mused.
In fact, just looking at the statuesque beauty rubbing her ass against the pole made her own nipples stiffen and…
“Yo, toots!” called a voice across the club. “How ‘bout you bring that sexy ass over here?”
Sara gritted her teeth. Her Boss, or Lord as he preferred to be called, had already made it very clear what was expected of her. She was supposed to be out on the floor, a tray of drinks in one hand and teasing the patrons with the other.
“Make them think you want them as much as they want you,” he told her. “Giggle, tease, flirt… but make yourself unobtainable. It will make them want you even more.” His lecherous voice echoed in her ears, just remembering the tone of it made her skin crawl.
Sara had no intention of giving that pig anything he wanted. But then she caught sight of Victoria, who appeared to have the attention of every man, and some women, in the club as she writhed up against the pole amidst the cloying purple smoke.
Despite her sometimes prudish personality, Victoria was definitely holding up her end of the plan. Now was Sara’s chance to hold up hers.
She forced her best brain-dead bimbo smile and approached the businessmen in the corner, who clearly were having trouble standing up.
“Here you go, hon,” Sara managed through clenched teeth, passing three beers to their table.
“Thanks, toots,” one of the businessmen slurred. God, his breath reeked of whiskey and cheap cigarettes.
Sara suppressed a cry of surprise as the man grabbed her purple panties and slid a wad of cash between the thong strap.
“There’s more where that came from if you show us a real good time,” the man said with a crooked smile.
Sara clenched her hands into fists. Chauvinistic pigs like this prick were the worst kind of man—limp-dick assholes who figured they could have any woman just by flinging money around.
She was about two seconds away from imprinting her fist against his face when she caught sight of the club’s boss sitting in a booth with three other strippers, and two large bouncers on either side of him, watching her with interest.
“It’s your lucky day, asshole,” Sara growled as she turned away.
“Oh, baby,” the businessman cried. “I hate to see you go but love to watch you leave!”
Suddenly, the lights started to dim on stage. Victoria was still going at it, squatting on her stiletto heels as she bumped and grinding against the metal pole, her eyes closed in ecstasy. Either she was getting way too into her performance or she knew how to fake it way too well.
But Victoria’s gyrations and moans had even attracted even the attention of Lord Sleazeball himself. Now was her chance.
Pushing through the curtains once more, Sara slinked toward the back rooms where they had changed earlier. Suddenly shrouded in darkness, the smell that hit her nostrils was absolutely pungent and unmistakable. Sex…sex and cum.
Fighting back her gag reflex, Sara forced her way down the hallway toward the rickety wooden door at the end of it. Moving quickly, she pushed it open and slid into the office beyond, closing the door behind her. A flick of the fingers locked the door before she turned around and took in the sight of the manager’s office she found herself in.
Just as she feared, the place was absolutely disgusting. There were used condoms littered amongst the empty beer bottles, used needles and stacks of cash, the chairs and couch stained with God knows what… though she had a few assumptions.
“What a fucking pig…” She growled softly before spotting the computer on the desk in the center of the room. “That was easy…” She chuckled to herself.
Making her way across the office, she silently cringed as the heel of her shoe crushed a condom full of cum underneath it, causing it to squirt out across the floor. Shaking the used rubber off her foot she moved around behind the desk and bent over at the waist, fingers moving instantly to the keyboard.
The computer was locked. Still, Lord what’s-his-name didn’t strike her as someone who gave two shits about an un-hackable password, so she tried the first word that came to mind: Kismet.
No good. The computer blinked red.
Next she tried another obvious answer: Lord.
The computer blinked red again.
One more incorrect guess and she’d be locked out of the computer for good.
Then it hit her. Bliss.
The computer blinked green and welcomed her with a cheery ding!
She didn’t find much at first glance except for a few business receipts and a lot of porn. So, so much porn.
But at last she found something useful. A folder marked: Codename Bliss.
Double clicking the file, Sara opened it up and the sight before her made her throat tighten and her heart skip a beat. On the screen was a three-dimensional diagram of some sort of chemical that apparently came in three forms with three different effects. There was an injection-based form which apparently caused an instantaneous orgasm. A pill form that when ingested caused a slow burn of arousal that was apparently being sold heavily on the club scene. And most insidiously, an aerosol form that smelled of roses…roses…roses…
Suddenly it all made sense. The purple vapor that was being pumped into the club… it was Bliss! The
club patrons… the strippers… even Victoria… they had all been affected
by the drug’s hallucinogenic agents… it would certainly explain why
Victoria was getting into her performance so much…
Then her heart stopped dead in her chest. She spotted a familiar name at the bottom of the file: “Dr Vallen.” The very man who had captured her at such a young age, tortured and nearly broke her. He created Bliss…it was his drug and…it…was…purple.
This… she realized. This is all my fault. All the crime and casualties and assaults from Bliss… all of it came from me. My powers. My pheromones.
Feeling dizzy and lightheaded, Sara was about to close the computer when another file caught her eye. This one was titled: Bliss Subjects.
Inside the folder were dozens of mugshots with a standard picture, biographical information and extensive notes taken by none other than Dr. Vallen himself. All the monitored subjects were female. Superheroines, even. And Shade recognized nearly all of them.
“Name: Star Spangled Girl,” one file read.
“Alias: Michelle Fox.”
She pulled up another.
Alias: Candy Roberts.”
“Name: Ultra Michelle.”
Her worst fears had been realized. Dr. Vallen had lured each heroine into Kismet and slowly brainwashed them through increased exposure to Bliss. Now they were nothing more than mind-controlled strippers, eager to please the club’s customers for a few extra dollars.
Sara’s mind was reeling. Her hands were sweaty. Her heartbeat raced.
She had to stop him.
She had to stop Dr. Vallen, not just for herself but for every superheroine he had kidnapped and molded.
Sara brought up one last mugshot and gasped.
The picture was instantly recognizable.
After all, the two superheroines had gone on so many adventures together. The two of them were close. She was perhaps the only one Sara could truly call a friend.
“No…” she whispered hoarsely. “It can’t be… please… not her…”
Suddenly Sara heard a familiar voice from across the room.
“I heard you were looking for me, Sara.”
Blissful Fate: Page 5
Sara could barely say her name before she was pulled back onto her heels, and a rag of pungent chemicals was forced over her lips. Chloroform! No, wait… this was different. The drug was strangely aromatic, almost like… like… roses.
“Oh, Sara,” a voice whispered in her ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”
Blissful Fate: Page 6
Slowly, Victoria looked over to find Edward Sloane grinning back at her.
As usual, his appearance was impeccable. His trademark pinstriped suit shimmered, almost iridescent in the flashing stage lights. His auburn hair was slicked back, accentuating his raven-like face and piercing jawline. His pale green eyes showed no hint of emotion as he stared back at her. Only cold, deliberate calculation.
To almost everyone in Sentinel City, Edward Sloane was exactly who he appeared to be: a millionaire playboy who inherited his fortune from a massive fossil fuel empire. His good looks and lavish lifestyle were constantly featured in every sleazy tabloid magazine, gossip TV show and high-class charity event throughout the city.
Only Victoria knew the truth. Edward Sloane was a psychopath. A coldblooded mastermind whose family had fallen on hard times, who used his cunning and heartless rationale to secretly build Sentinel City’s most powerful crime syndicate.
Her father knew the truth, too. He used to be a cop, one of the few badges who wasn’t under Sloane’s control. One night, while he was patrolling the seedy downtown district of Sentinel City, Victoria’s father stumbled upon Sloane and his cronies executing a well-known DA in an abandoned parking lot.
The media called it a senseless act of violence. Another cop, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Victoria uncovered what really happened—Sloane tried to convince her father to join him, offering money and power for his allegiance. Her father managed to take down seven of them before he was finally killed.
That was the day Victoria knew she’d never live a normal life. The day she knew she’d never rest until Edward Sloane was behind bars. The day Eclipse was born.
“Y… you’re not real,” Victoria managed.
Sloane rolled his eyes, his slim figure silhouetted by the stage lights. Somehow, above all the thumping bass, the catcalls and whistling, she could hear him clearly—so clearly, it was like he was whispering in her ear.
“Of course I’m not real, Vic,” he said, his voice tinged with a Dutch accent. “I’m still serving time in Sentinel City’s finest penitentiary, remember? Three consecutive life sentences, no thanks to you.”
“Then how…?” Victoria said. She paused, looking around the stage. Her thoughts seemed hazy and unfocused. She tried to focus on peripheral details—the stage, the lights, the crowd, the smoke…
“Shade’s pheromones,” she said. “You’ve been pumping them into the strip club!”
“Ding ding ding! You win the ice crusher!” Sloane answered with a smile. “Although technically we’re not just using Shade’s pheromones. It’s a super-concentrate of her perv-o pheromones, plus some LSD and acid to make things really trippy. People go ape-shit for this stuff.”
“You mean Bliss,” Victoria said.
“It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Sloane replied. “Simple, mysterious, erotic. We’ve already lured eight superheroines to our club already and turned them into panting, obedient slaves. Well, ten if we count you and Sara.”
They know she’s here, Victoria realized. I’ve got to warn her that…
Victoria firmed her jaw.
Now was not the time to panic. She couldn’t jump off-stage
halfway through a song and besides, Sara could handle herself.
“Okay, so I’ve been drugged with Bliss,” Victoria reasoned. “Then why are you here?”
Sloane broke into a smile—that same, swarmy grin that always made her skin crawl.
“You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sloane shifted towards her.
Out of impulse, Victoria flinched and immediately hated
herself for it. He took another step, then another until Victoria backed up
flat against the stripper pole and let out a stifled yelp.
“Mmmm,” Sloane said, stopping just a few inches away. “This seems oddly familiar, doesn’t it?”
Victoria swallowed, hard. Her legs were trembling. Her palms were sweaty. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn away. She was trapped, locked in Sloane’s cold gaze.
“The… the strip club?” Victoria managed.
She bit her lip as Sloane reached toward her, pressing one finger against the cold metal pole.
“This pole,” he murmured playfully. “So sturdy and tall. Almost like the pole you and I used back at the abandoned factory…”
Victoria’s blood ran cold. Ever since she found out the truth behind her father’s murder, Victoria had dedicated her life to vengeance. She trained nonstop for months, in gyms, in alleyways, in rundown buildings, dreaming of the day she would finally bring Edward Sloane to justice.
That dream became possible after she rescued Daphne McAlester from a group of would-be kidnappers. As the new CEO of McAlester Enterprises, Daphne had access to cutting-edge nanotechnology and seemingly unlimited sources of funding. To show her appreciation, Daphne made Victoria a supercharged suit equipped with advanced strength nanotechnology, accelerating healing properties and camouflage stealth equipment.
Then the time finally came. Victoria donned her suit for the very first time, tracking Edward Sloane and his goons to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. She emerged from the warehouse battered and bruised but victorious, handing Sloane off personally to the Sentinel City Police Department.
That was how the world came to know Eclipse, the Sworn Savior of Sentinel City. The masked vigilante who single-handedly brought down Edward Sloane and exposed his criminal enterprise. The media labeled her a hero, a symbol of hope in today’s corrupt society.
But that was only half the story—when Victoria confronted Sloane in that abandoned warehouse, the fight didn’t go as planned. Another goon managed to sneak up behind her, wrenching her arms behind her back while the others beat Victoria unconscious. When she awoke, Victoria found herself bound against a sturdy metal pole, her breasts bared as she was forced to endure hours of hellish sexual torment at the hands of Edward Sloane and his goons. In fact, if it hadn’t been for a few loosely tied knots, Victoria might not have survived at all.
“No,” Victoria insisted, trying to force that memory from her mind. “This time it’s different. I’m different.”
“Oh yes, now I remember,” Sloane said playfully, pacing around the perimeter of the stage. “Your hands were above your head. Tied back against the pole with some awfully thick rope.”
“What are you—”
Victoria gasped. She looked up to find that her arms were already high above her head. The more she struggled, the more she tried to pull away, the more a thick rope began to materialize, binding her hands to the back of the stripper pole.
No! This can’t be happening… not again!
“Now let’s see,” Sloane continued in mock contemplation.
“You were dressed in a sexy little number… a red-and-black leotard if memory
To her horror, Victoria discovered that was suddenly dressed in her superheroine uniform—red-and-black leotard, black gloves, boots, a utility belt and red mask to conceal her identity.
“With those magnificent tits exposed, of course,” Sloane added.
Victoria didn’t need to look to know her breasts were exposed. She should have been repulsed. Disgusted by the man pacing before her. Horrified.
But as she squirmed against the pole, feeling the cold metal caress the back side of her body, the thick rope holding her tight, quite the opposite was happening. Her breathing quickened. Her body was on fire. Her nipples were as hard as diamonds.
Try as she might, she couldn’t break free. She was trapped,
helpless against the perverted desires of Edward Sloane. Just like last time…
“Why?” Victoria murmured in a husky whisper. “Why are you doing this, Sloane?”
Sloane cocked his head. “Me? I’m not doing anything. This is your fucked-up head, baby. I’m just along for the ride.”
Victoria closed her eyes tight. “Then why can’t I make you go away?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Sloane asked. “Maybe it’s because deep down, you just can’t forget me. Can’t forget that night we spent together…”
“Go fuck yours—ahhhh!!!”
Victoria cried out as Sloane reappeared right beside her, so
close she could smell his perfume. His well-toned body pressed up against hers,
pinning her against the pole. Her legs brushed against the growing bulge in his
“Don’t tell me you don’t think about it,” he whispered. “That night at the warehouse. Your first night as a superheroine. We had a good time, didn’t we?”
“You… you’re a monster,” Victoria snapped. “That night… what you did… you disgust me!”
“Then why are your nipples so hard?”
“My nipples aren’t… oooooohhhh.”
A moan escaped her lips as Sloane playfully caressed her engorged nipples. Victoria hated herself for it, hated that her hips were grinding steadily against the pole, hated the arcs of arousal coursing through her veins, hated how she couldn’t take control of her own body.
Sloane leaned in, whispering in her ear. “I know you still dream about it. Being tied up against that pole, my fingers rubbing back and forth… forcing you to cum against your will.”
Victoria bit her lip. She wanted to deny it, to say something that would preserve her once-proud dignity, but she knew it would be a lie. She did dream about it, even years after Sloane had been locked away.
“At first you told yourself they were nightmares,” Sloane continued. “’Recurring trauma’… or some other psychological bullshit. But then you noticed the stains on your bedsheets. The way you’d wake up, sweaty and exhausted, your fingers still sticky and wet. And then you’d wonder…”
What kind of person enjoys reliving something like that, over and over? She thought.
“What kind of person, indeed,” Sloane said. “You may have convinced everyone else with this do-gooder superheroine shtick, but I know the truth. I know the real Victoria… the weak, pathetic little whore who couldn’t defeat me, even after years of preparation and a supercharged suit. You couldn’t even keep yourself from cumming the moment I started rubbing you.”
“No… stop… please don’t….”
The words just spilled out of Victoria’s mouth now. Husky little moans that did nothing but excite her. She writhed against the pole, rubbing her ass against the metal, pulling against her binds as her breasts trembled and shook, a warm orgasm building between her thighs.
“Tell me the truth, Victoria,” Sloane whispered, his fingers gently rubbing her swollen womanhood. “Tell me how you felt and this will all be over…”
“You… you know… the… truth…” Victoria managed.
“I want to hear you say it,” Sloane said.
“No…. I…. can’t….”
Her body was on fire. Sweaty, panting and stiff, Victoria was only seconds away from orgasm. But Sloane seemed to know—he would rub her clit, nibble her breasts, caress between her legs, bringing her to very verge of release, then wait a few moments before starting again. It was sheer torture.
“Say it, Victoria,” Sloane whispered. “Tell me what you’ve been running from all these years.”
“No… never… I’m… I’m a superheroine…”
Sloane hesitated as a certain realization seemed to strike him.
“It was the mask, wasn’t it?” he asked. “That little detail that finally put you over the edge…”
Victoria gasped. The dam had broken. A mind-numbing orgasm was just seconds away, about to explode through her trembling womanhood.
“Ah yes,” Sloane said playfully, raising his free hand to grip the edge of her mask. “I remember. All that writhing and moaning back at the warehouse caused your mask to come loose. I thought it was strange—why would this girl want to protect her identity? Unless she had something to hide…”
Victoria’s body wasn’t hers anymore. It rocked and grinded and quivered, waiting for the inevitable.
“So I took that mask off,” Sloane continued. “And I knew, right then, you were his daughter. Poor, helpless Victoria Pierce, who couldn’t even avenge her father’s death. Couldn’t stop herself from cumming. That final detail, that total defeat was what pushed you over the edge…”
“Say, Victoria!” Sloane shouted. “Tell me the truth!”
“I…. I…. I’m not a superheroine!” she screamed. “I’m a whore!”
Victoria climaxed hard and fast, dark liquids seeping out onto his hands and dripping to the floor. Her knees buckled. She fell down, flat against the stage, her hips twitching from the aftermath.
She’d never cum so hard in her life. Her body had never known such pleasure. Or shame. Even now, as she teetered on the verge of total physical collapse, Victoria realized the horrific implications of what she’d just done. Just like last time.
“And then you wake up,” Sloane said, almost gently. “Sweaty and exhausted and satisfied, you sit up in bed as the dream slowly fades and you wonder—why hasn’t he told anyone the truth? Why hasn’t he told the world about your so-called secret identity?”
Victoria cried out as he lifted her face, forcing her to look into his cold gaze once again.
“This prison will only hold me for so long,” he growled. “I’ve got connections, corrupt prison guards, police officers… it’s only a matter of time before I escape one way or another. And when I do, I’m coming for you, Victoria.
“I will the one to finally break you.”
And then he was gone. Edward Sloane disappeared as quickly as he came, vanishing into the purple smoke.
Victoria was all alone, sitting on stage in a pool of her own feminine liquids, sweaty, defeated and lost, as the patrons of Kismet stared back at her.
Blissful Fate: Page 7
Before Sara even knew what was happening she felt a folded, damp rag pressed over her mouth and nose, stifling her scream of shock. Inhaling sharply in surprise, she accidentally filled her lungs with the insidious fumes. It was unmistakable and yet strangely unfamiliar. She recognized the powerful scent of chloroform, but there was something else mixed in with it, too… light and aromatic, like roses.
The sting of those fumes wafted up from the rag and
made her eyes water, the burn she felt in her lungs as soon as the drug
replaced oxygen in her system and the nausea and dizziness that
“Mmmph?” Little more than a muffled moan of confusion as her eyes cut to the left, where Sara could see the face of Chryseis, The Amazon Arrow, her friend, perched above her bare shoulder.
Only something was different…wrong. Her normally piercing eyes were clouded over and hazy, her hair was messy and what the hell was she wearing?! It was slutty enough to make Sara wonder if she was hallucinating. She could feel Chryseis’ perverse excitement she was feeling as she drugged her own friend. Rock hard nipples dug into Sara’s back, heavy breathing teased her ear and the side of her neck and the smell of sex hung in the air…although that could be the disgusting room she found herself in. Reaching up with her hand, Sara found her grip weakened and her moves sluggish, as Chryseis was able to restrain her with minimal effort.
“Mmmm yes,” Chryseis said in a husky whisper. “This is more like it. Holding your prey tight, feeling them wriggle and thrash against your body, their moans growing weak and desperate… I can see why bad guys like using this stuff so much.”
Summoning all her strength, Sara managed to elbow Chryseis squarely in the gut. The amazon didn’t respond at first, then, grinning back at her, released Sara from her arms.
“Uhhh…” Sara moaned as she staggered away. “Please… stop, Chryseis… this isn’t you…”
The amazon’s laugh was cruel and hollow. “Stop? Why would I want to stop, Sara? We’re gonna have so much fun together.”
“No, you don’t understand… you’ve been drugg—hrrrrppphhh!!!”
Sara didn’t even see her sneaking up behind her. Once more, the rag was forced over her lips, the back of her head pinned against Amazon Arrow. Chryseis had always been strong and agile, but now her grip was like a vice. All Sara could do was kick and wriggle against the amazon’s rock-solid body, rubbing her shapely ass against her thighs and crotch.
“Oh Sara,” Chryseis whispered into her ear. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment? To feel your body pressed up against mine? To smell you, to feel you… to taste you again?”
Chryseis leaned in, so close Sara could feel the hot breath against her skin. “Don’t tell you me you don’t think about it,” she cooed. “The night in Dr. Vallen’s maze. The night we first kissed.”
Sara shuddered. How could she forget? Sara couldn’t remember when she felt a kiss like that…if ever before. They had just defeated the Leviathan after wandering blindly through Dr Vallen’s maze. Pulling the Amazon into her lap, Sara gently tapped her cheeks, trying to revive her unconscious partner. As those beautiful eyes fluttered, both women leaned in and pressed their lips to one another. It was long and passionate…and Sara melted into Chryseis’ touch…so long denying herself from any form of sexual contact.
“For the longest time, I thought it was my fault, you know,” Chryseis whispered. “I knew better than to get involved with another woman… a superheroine, especially. I thought I was weak. Too weak to resist your pheromones. Too weak to resist you. But now…”
Amazon Arrow breathed in sharply. “Now, for the first time in my life, I know the truth,” she said. “It’s you, Sara. It’s always been you.”
“Hmmmpphh!” Sara moaned, crying out in surprise as Chryseis grabbed the left side of her purple bra and pulled down, exposing her swollen, stiff nipple.
“That cold bitch Sara Morgan, with her ice-queen stare and holier-than-thou attitude,” Chryseis snarled. “But touch her in just the right spots and watch as that bitchy ice-queen melts into a quivering, pathetic little whore.”
Ooooohhhhh… Sara moaned helplessly as Chryseis caressed the tip of her engorged nipple.
Fuck, how was she getting so aroused? Breast play had always excited her, but now every movement of Chryseis’ nimble fingers sent electric shocks of arousal coursing through her body. She could feel every muscle, every tendon, every vein in her body suddenly begging for sweet release.
No, I can’t! Sara protested silently. Got to get control of this!
“I suppose the first time I noticed it was on our very first mission together,” Chryseis continued, massaging both her breasts now. “We felt so confident, so powerful together… until the exits sealed off and gas started filling the chamber. We coughed and staggered, trying to find our way out, but the fumes were much too strong. The last thing I remember was your face… your eyes closed and your mouth open in ecstasy, moaning like a whore as you collapsed on the ground.”
No! I was trying to escape!
But her words were muffled against the damp rag. It was a strange feeling—Sara felt unusually clear-headed, but her body didn’t seem to respond anymore. She pressed her ass firmly against the amazon’s crotch, writhing her thighs together as an orgasm was slowly building.
“At first I thought it couldn’t be possible,” Chryseis said. “But then I saw that same look again, when we were battling the Men’s Superiority Movement.”
Again, Sara shuddered. She could still feel those cold steel hands on her bare skin as those heavily armed soldiers restrained her arms behind her back. There was little either Shade or the Amazon Arrow could do against their power armor. Bullets and arrows bounced off of them uselessly and her pheromones were filtered out by the gas masks built into their helmets. It was one of the first times they had teamed up and it was already a spectacular failure. The last thing she remembered was armored fingers opening mere inches in front of her face, a loud hiss, and the feeling of a high-pressured blast of green knockout gas wafting across her face before she collapsed back into the arms holding her from behind.
“But the moment I knew, absolutely knew the truth about you came later, when we were lying naked and bound together in that disgusting alleyway.”
Sara cringed. It was her worst defeat, a day she had tried so hard to forget—not just what happened, but how she felt… what she did…
It was pathetic, really. Shade and the great Amazon Arrow, brought down by little more than alcohol, a few frat boys and Sara’s own pheromones. She could practically smell the man’s cock right now, blending with the scent of chloroform inside her nostrils in some form of erotic cocktail. Her and Chryseis both pleasured the man orally at the same time, like a pair of back alley prostitutes sharing the same cock. It was the most humiliated…and turned on she’d ever been before. And it all culminated with them being bound together, naked, among the trash, and left to be found by the first person to stumble upon them.
“We waited there for hours,” Chryseis whispered. “Tied up, naked, helpless. I was trying to break free. But you… you were actually turned on by all that filth and depravity. You kept rubbing that rope around your crotch back and forth, rubbing mine, too, making us both cum over and over until my mind was about to break…”
Uuuhhhhnn! Sara had to stop herself. Close her eyes to keep from cumming on the spot. Even the mere memory of that night was enough to push her over the edge.
“How many times is it going to take, Sara?” Chryseis continued, delicately massaging her breasts to bring her just close enough to orgasm, but not enough for sweet release. “How many times do you need to be captured, knocked out, stripped, gagged, bound and fondled before you finally realize the truth? You’re not a superheroine, Sara. You never were. You’re nothing but a weak little whore.”
No… Sara moaned. I’m… I’m not a whore…
“And these so-called ‘superpowers’ of yours?” Chryseis asked, moving her hands down further to her quivering thighs. “You say you have no control over how your pheromones affect other people, but that’s not really the truth now, is it? You like losing control. You like turning them into savage, horny animals. Because deep down, that’s exactly how you want them to treat you.”
It was all Sara could do to keep from cumming. Her body wasn’t hers anymore—the combination of the drugs, the humiliation and Chryseis’ curvaceous body pressed up against hers was too much. Her hips rocked back and forth, tensing against the inevitable orgasm.
“You, your pheromones…” Chryseis whispered. “You make people into monsters. You use them to live out your own twisted fantasies…”
Amazon Arrow was panting now, her chest heaving against the flat of her back. Her pale eyes glinted purple in the dim light of the owner’s office. Her red star glowed faintly atop her silver tiara, a cruel reminder of the sense of purity and morals she once represented.
“Look at me, Sara,” Chryseis said. “Look at the monster you’ve created. I am your worst nightmare… and your darkest desire come to life…”
Sara quivered, teetering on the very edge of mind-blowing release.
“Tonight the tables have turned, Sara,” Chryseis whispered. “Tonight it’s my turn to dominate you.”
Replaced: Page 1
Daphne McAlester let out a sharp gasp as she felt the mask adhere to her skin, locking itself in place. The mask felt perfect. So did the red-and-black leotard, the black latex gloves and boots, which caressed every curve, every contour of curvaceous body… almost as though they had been created especially for her.
Especially for me, she mused.
Before her lay the superheroine once known as Eclipse, the so-called Savior of Sentinel City. But she was no heroine now. Just a naked brunette bimbo laying naked on her bed, smoke curling from the chloroform-soaked rag nestled below her lips.
“Oh Victoria,” Daphne whispered as she admired the shimmering moonlight reflected on her gloves. “I had such high hopes for you. You and I… we were going to save the city, together. We could’ve made such a great team. You and I, we could have even been…”
Daphne clenched her fists, recoiling against whatever fond memories they had once shared together.
No. She… she doesn’t deserve you.
At first Daphne thought it was a fluke, the first time Eclipse had been defeated.
Edward Sloane and his goons had ambushed her. Tied her up inside of an abandoned warehouse and molested her for hours, penetrating her again and again. Daphne was listening through her transparent earpiece, too afraid to make a sound.
But the moans Eclipse made. The screams that accompanied every forced orgasm… it was almost too much to bear.
And still Daphne tried to ignore the truth. She went back to work, outfitting Eclipse’s suit with new nanotechnology and an alarm system to warn against unseen attackers. It seemed to work… for the first few missions.
But then Eclipse got her first taste of chloroform at the hands of two no-name thugs. Daphne couldn’t believe how fast she blacked out. Again she moaned, muffled against the cloth, and fell unconscious to the floor. Again Daphne had to hear the aftermath, the brutish thugs feeling up Victoria and her voluptuous body, again tuning out Victoria’s barely disguised moans of pleasure.
Daphne should’ve realized the truth right then and there. But still she persevered, offering Victoria her boundless access to nanotechnology, her father’s vast fortune, her love and support. It only got worse from there… dumpsters, deranged experiment lairs, horny monsters, giving blowjobs to hobos in the scummiest section of town…
Victoria Pierce was no superheroine. She was a whore.
Daphne’s lips twisted into a smile.
Only a whore would enjoy being molested by Edward Sloane and his thugs. Only a whore would moan and squirm against a rag of chloroform, slowly dwindling into unconsciousness. Only a whore would cum time and time again every time she was overpowered and defeated.
“You hear that, whore?” Daphne asked, leering down at Victoria’s motionless body. “You had your chance. You had so many chances… but you failed every time. Now it’s time to pay the price. It’s time for Sentinel City to meet their true savior, a superheroine who will actually make this city a better place. It’s time for them to meet the real Eclipse.”
She stopped short, watching Victoria’s humongous bosom flutter up and down. Victoria didn’t move. She was helpless, defeated, just like so many times before.
“But don’t you worry, Victoria,” Daphne whispered. “I know just what to do with you. I’m going to drop off your cold, naked, unconscious body right next to all those filthy, disgusted hobos you love so much. I’m sure they’ll show you a real good time, slut. It’s more than you deserve…”
Replaced: Page 2
Daphne McAlester hesitated, staring at the motionless body before her.
God she’s beautiful.The way the moonlight reflected off every curve and contour of her thick, voluptuous body. The way her lips were parted ever so softly as she slumbered against the chloroform-soaked cloth. The way her breasts trembled every so slightly with every breath she took.
Daphne clenched her fists. Fucking Victoria. Sweet, perfect Victoria.
Daphne had lost count of the nights she’d fallen asleep, dreaming of the day Victoria would finally notice her as more than just a friend. She’d lost count of all the outfits she’d bought, the skimpy skirts and the sexy pantyhose, the new glasses and hair extensions…
They’d only talked about it once. Daphne was too flustered to speak in coherent sentences, but Victoria made her feelings perfectly clear to her: she didn’t have time for romance. As the Savior of Sentinel City, Victoria couldn’t allow herself to become involved with anyone, especially a close friend who had already done so much to help her. And Daphne believed her.
Poor, shy little Daphne… too afraid to tell Victoria how she really felt. How she laid awake at night staring at her bedroom door, wishing Victoria would appear in the door-frame wearing a sexy semi-transparent nightie. How she convinced herself that it was too dangerous for her and Victoria to ever be together, how getting involved might jeopardize not only their friendship, but the well-being of Sentinel City.
But then there were the missions. The countless times Eclipse had been ambushed, or trapped or defeated in a fair fight. The way she moaned when a rag of chloroform was forced over her lips, twisting and writhing against her attacker’s crotch. How she cried out, panting and sweating, whenever a villain pressed their fingers against her crotch, rubbing her into another forced orgasm. How she came time and time again whenever they penetrated her, sometimes from both sides, her moans of protest giving way to sheer animal-like pleasure.
Daphne gritted her teeth. Fucking hypocrite.
Before she knew it, Daphne was walking towards her. Putting a foot up around the bed. Straddling the once-proud superheroine, wearing her own fucking uniform.
A small part of her expected Victoria to resist. To turn her head and cry out in alarm, fighting against Daphne with what little strength she had left. But Victoria laid perfectly still, her lips still resting against the cloth, her bosom steadily rising up and down.
Daphne reached out with trembling fingers. How many times had she dreamed of being in this position? Of seeing the love of her life completely naked? Of pressing her palms against her bare voluptuous breasts?
Daphne pressed down with reckless abandon, her fingers digging deep within the exposed flesh, her fleeting trepidation giving way to years of suppressed anger and passion.
A moan escaped Victoria’s lips.
Daphne paused, if only momentarily, to see if Victoria would start to move again. She didn’t. She laid there, helpless on her back, her lips parted in an unspoken invitation to continue the assault. Begging her, even. Pleading.
Daphne gripped both her nipples and began massaging them back and forth. Even through her latex gloves, she could feel Victoria’s nipples harden instantly as she let out another moan.
Just like all the times she’d been defeated, or chloroformed unconscious or forced to orgasm against her will. The same guttural moan.
“F… fucking bitch,” Daphne stammered out loud. Anger was taking over now–she grabbed Victoria’s free hand and forced it between her legs, pinning her arms against her waist. “Is this how you like it?”
Daphne already had her answer. Victoria was moaning with every twerk of her nipple, every time she touched her swollen breasts.
“You can’t get involved with me, after all I’ve done for you?” Daphne demanded, working harder and faster. “But you still cum for every two-bit goon who ambushes you with chloroform or takes you into a dirty alley and works you over like a cheap whore?”
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Daphne grunted. “That’s why you’ve always resisted me. Because you’re so fucked up in the head that the only way you get off is if someone dominates you… forces you into submission…”
“Uhhh… uhhhh…. uhhhh….”
Victoria arched her back, still pinned against the bed, her upper body writhing in response to Daphne’s frenzied hands. Daphne could feel the heat from her naked crotch… she was probably dripping wet, oozing feminine liquid onto the satin sheets…
“I’ll bet you get off on it, you fucking whore,” Daphne snarled. “Every time you put on this uniform. Every time you’re about to go on one of your ‘midnight patrols’… the thrill that somebody might ambush you, might overwhelm you, might completely dominate and unmask you…”
Victoria was bucking wildly, on the threshold of released. Daphne twisted her body, looking at Victoria’s swollen, throbbing womanhood and the stained sheets below. All it would take is two fingers… plunge them deep into her pussy and rub back and forth until she orgasmed… how fast would she cum? Probably within seconds, the dirty little whore.
No.All this time, it was Daphne serving Victoria. Daphne was the one who made her this uniform. Daphne was the one who financed her entire operation, who built a secret headquarters deep beneath McAlester Enterprises. Well no more.
Daphne rose up, leering at her writhing friend.
“Not this time, whore,” she grunted. “No… this time, it’s your turn to serve me.”
Replaced: Page 3
Daphne McAlester felt fucking fantastic.
It wasn’t just the years’ worth of anger and frustration, buried beneath feelings of shame and guilt, that was coursing through her veins like wildfire. It wasn’t just seeing the love of her life, Victoria Pierce, on the verge of orgasm between her outstretched thighs. It was the costume—the way the red-and-black leotard seemed to surround her like a shield. It was the gloves, the cape, the boots, the mask… they made her feel free, free from poor, painfully shy Daphne. Free to be someone else entirely.
“Oh no, not yet, Victoria,” Daphne teased as she lifted her pelvis off Victoria’s sweaty body. “I won’t let you cum. Not until you show me what you can do with those luscious lips of yours.”
Daphne inched up Victoria’s slowly—first her stomach, then her heaving chest and finally her voluptuous breasts, where Daphne paused to massage her nipples, eliciting a husky moan from Victoria. She perched her crotch above Victoria’s face and paused momentarily.
“Don’t give me that look,” Daphne snapped. “I know you’ve done this sort of thing before. Back when Madam Slate brought you to her sex dungeon, you ate that bitch out again and again for hours.”
Daphne lowered herself slowly, perching her crotch upon Victoria’s lips and…
“F… fuuuucccckkkk,” Daphne grunted.
The feeling was incredible. Even with the leotard still on, Victoria was working magic. It was like every thought, every sensation Daphne had was focused down there… every lick and nibble from her tongue and lips sent arcs of electric arousal coursing through her body.
“Y…. you fucking hypocrite,” Daphne moaned, her hips grinding back and forth. “I knew you were into girls.”
Daphne could see why Victoria had a hard time ignoring sexual temptation in this suit. One strip of nanobyte-enhanced Teflon was all that separated her attackers from her naked womanhood. Even soft sensations, like fingers rubbing against it, seemed to only intensify her growing arousal.
“Wait, what are you…. Oooooooohhhhh!!!” Daphne cried.
Somehow, Victoria had managed to move that strip of cloth to the side with her teeth and plunged her tongue directly into Daphne’s oozing vagina. The shock of the sensation was so great, Daphne nearly came on the spot; gritting her teeth, she forced herself to stay focused.
“Goddamn, Victoria,” Daphne grunted. “You are way… way too good at this.”
Victoria was starting to come around again. Her hand started to move, off the bed, up towards Daphne’s thigh. At first, Daphne tensed, figuring that Victoria was mounting one last, desperate plot to escape. But her hand passed over Daphne’s body, all the way down the bed and finally towards Victoria’s own crotch.
She… she’s fingering herself. The fucking slut is getting off on this!
Perhaps Daphne should have been disgusted by this vulgar display of arousal. But the idea that her own mentor and role model, Victoria fucking Pierce, was fingering herself as she buried her tongue deeper and deeper into her throbbing vagina only excited Daphne more. The dam had broke. Daphne knew she was about to cum… hard.
“T… that’s it,” she groaned. “Don’t stop, Victoria.”
She didn’t. As her consciousness returned, Victoria intensified her efforts, licking and nudging and rubbing every inch of her womanhood.
“Oh fuck!” Daphne cried. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”
Daphne was unaware that her tone had turned to pleading.
She was panting like a wild animal, her hips bucking towards the mind-numbing orgasm that was building beneath her thighs.
“Don’t stop!” Daphne screamed. “Oh god, I’m…”
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Though she hated to admit it, Victoria Pierce had been in this situation before.
During her first few months as the superheroine Eclipse, battling the demented dominatrix Madam Slate. Victoria had gotten in close enough to inject Madam Slate with a debilitating tranquilizer (strong enough to take down a bull elephant, Daphne said). Victoria could admit it: she got cocky. She should’ve realized that through a life of pain and inflicting pain on others, Madam Slate had already built up a tolerance for even the toughest sedatives. By the time Victoria realized her mistake, Madam Slate had already turned the tables on the naive superheroine.
When she awoke, Victoria found herself strapped spread-eagle to a slab in Madam Slate’s sex dungeon, the leering domantrix standing over her wearing a panty-less harness, forcing Victoria to pleasure her orally. She would never admit this to anyone, but it wasn’t the worst way to wake up. It was kind of thrilling, being so helpless, forced to make Madam Slate cum again and again.
Was it better or worse now that she was in the same situation, burying her tongue deep within her best friend and partner, Daphne McAlester? Victoria couldn’t decide. The haze of chloroform was slowly wearing off; slowly, she started to regain her senses.
Daphne had completely forgotten about it. But how could she reach it?
No way Victoria could grab it without her noticing, even while Daphne was in throes of ecstasy.
Her other free hand was close by her crotch. Victoria couldn’t resist.
“Oooohhh fuccckkk,” Daphne moaned. “You are too good at this….”
Just you wait. Victoria plunged her tongue deeper inside Daphne, using the tip to lick and caress her soft, squishy insides. With her other hand, she pressed her fingers just close enough to her own womanhood without pushing within. Under different circumstances, this might have been pleasurable. Hell, this might’ve been the best night of her life. But Victoria couldn’t allow herself to get distracted.
“Fucking hypocrite,” Daphne grunted. “I knew you were into girls…”
Victoria hesitated, if only momentarily. It wasn’t that she hadn’t imagined it–her and Daphne, both as friends and lovers. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed Daphne, or fantasized about the ways they would make love, but it just couldn’t happen. Victoria had dedicated her life to becoming a superheroine, to protecting Sentinel City. And Daphne had been so kind, providing Victoria will everything she needed to make that dream a reality… Victoria couldn’t jeapordize losing that by adding romance into the mix.
Stay focused. Then you can figure out what happened.Her fingers brushed against the cloth. Daphne didn’t notice–her hips were bucking, her back was arched, her eyes staring towards the ceiling.
“Please, Victoria, don’t stop,” Daphne moaned.
“Don’t stop, I’m…”
Now. In one fluid motion, Victoria wrapped her body around Daphne’s arching frame and spun her around, toppling her across the bed onto her back.
With one hand, she grabbed Daphne’s outstretched arm and pinned it to the bed.
With her other, she planted the chloroform-soaked cloth over Daphne’s lips.
“Mmmmppppphhhh!!!” Daphne moaned.
“That’s rule number 1,” Victoria said as she straddled her former assistant. “Your opponent’s never out until they’re out. Course, if you were a real superheroine, you’d know that, Daph.”
“Mmmnnnffff!” Daphne said, narrowing her eyes.
Maybe it was just her imagination, but Victoria saw an odd purple glint in her eyes… if only for a second and then it was gone.
“You wanna know rule number 2?” Victoria asked. “The bad guys use chloroform for a–uuuuhhhnnn!”The attack caught her off-guard. Daphne brought her fist crashing against her jaw–a crude punch, considering Daphne’s inexperience with hand-to-hand combat, but definitely one with force.
“You bitch….” Daphne growled. “I’ll defeat you. Just like all the others.”
Victoria clenched her fists. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her best friend, but her words had struck a nerve. The fact that all her hard work, all the late nights and death-defying patrols… the fact that Daphne only remembered her defeats, her failures, her losses… it stirred an anger in Victoria she didn’t know she had.
“What’s wrong, whore?” Daphne asked. “Did I hurt you too–mmmrrrrrfffff!!!”
Victoria pounced on her with every ounce of strength she had left. She had the advantage, she realized. Her curvy, volumptuous frame could easily overpower Daphne’s thinner body. Within seconds she was back on top, pinning Daphne against the bed, forcing the rag of chloroform back onto her lips.
“You think it’s easy?” Victoria panted, rage seeping through her. “You think it’s easy being a superheroine in this city? You think it’s easy battling every crook and gangster and mob boss with a shit-ton of cash and nothing left to lose?”
Daphne’s eyes told her all she needed to know. So defiant. So hateful. So wrong.
“You think I want to be defeated?” Victoria demanded. “You think all those times I lost, or was overpowered or tied up… you think I wanted that? Of course I didn’t. But you wanna know something else, Daph? I’m still here. Every single time, I was the one who escaped. While you were sitting at your fucking computer, I was the one trying to untie myself. I was the one waiting for the right moment to ambush my attackers. I was the one nursing broken ribs and broken bones.”
“Nnnnnrrrrrffff!” Daphne moaned in protest.
“You really think you can do a better job than me?” Victoria asked. “You really think you can be the Savior of Sentinel City. Then here’s your chance, Daph. Show me you’re a better superheroine than me. Show me that you can beat one measly, naked little girl.”
Daphne lurched. In an instant, she was kicking and thrashing like a wild animal, using whatever strength she had left to break free. But Victoria was ready for this. She kept one arm pinned against the bed; the other was grabbing at her naked body, trying to pry her other hand loose from the cloth. But Victoria had all the leverage. She kept her nude body flat against her writhing assistant and watched as her movements started to weaken.
She had to admit, it was kind of thrilling to be on other side of a chloroforming. The rush of power, of dominance that came from holding your victim still, keeping the cloth pressed firmly against their lips, holding onto to their thrashing limbs… and listening to their moans of defiance as they grew steadily weaker and weaker.
“Don’t tell me you’re giving up already,” Victoria whispered. “Not after all that grandstanding you just did. C’mon Daph, fight me….”
But Daphne’s eyes were starting to close. Her pupils were hazy and unfocused. Her eyebrows arched into helplessness.
She was finished.
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Daphne McAlester knew what she was up against.
Trichloromethane. A colorless, sweet-smelling organic compound with a tetrahedral molecular geometry with C3 symmetry. A dense liquid so potent, it could not only render a target unconscious, it could even cause respiratory center depression and comas.
Yet nothing could prepare Daphne for the real thing–the cloth pressed firmly against her lips, flooding her senses with a burning antiseptic sweetness that seemed to percolate through her entire body. In a matter of seconds, she felt tired and dizzy, her thoughts suddenly obscured by the chloroform-induced haze.
“You think it’s easy?” Victoria was saying as she leered over Daphne, her curvaceous body silhouetted by the moonlight. “You think it’s easy being a superheroine in this city? You think it’s easy battling every crook and gangster and mob boss with a shit-ton of cash and nothing left to lose?”
Victoria paused and for a moment, Daphne noticed a glint of purple reflected in her eyes. Purple. The thought gave Daphne a certain sense of clarity, of confusion, as her present state slowly began to dawn on her.
Wait a second, she thought. H… how exactly did I get here? Last thing I remember, I was sitting at my computer when a hand grabbed me from behind and…The memory was obscured, lost in the fragments of her mind. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Daphne would have enough time to uncover it.
“You think I want to be defeated?” Victoria demanded. “You think all those times I lost, or was overpowered or tied up… you think I wanted that? Of course I didn’t. But you wanna know something else, Daph? I’m still here. Every single time, I was the one who escaped. While you were sitting at your fucking computer, I was the one trying to untie myself. I was the one waiting for the right moment to ambush my attackers. I was the one nursing broken ribs and broken bones.”
Daphne moaned in protest. The woman hovering above her wasn’t Victoria–her tone was sharp and spiteful, her mouth curled into a sneer, her eyes glimmering with a vicious hate Daphne had never seen before.
“You really think you can do a better job than me?” Victoria asked. “You really think you can be the Savior of Sentinel City? Then here’s your chance, Daph. Show me you’re a better superheroine than me. Show me that you can beat one measly, naked little girl.”
For the first time tonight, Daphne was starting to feel like herself again. She had to stop Victoria, stop whatever cruel game she was playing, just long enough for Daphne to figure out what had happened to her–and if she could develop a cure.
In an instant, Daphne was kicking and thrashing like a wild animal, using whatever strength she had left to break free. But Victoria seemed prepared for this. She kept one arm pinned against the bed; the other was grabbing at her naked body, trying to pry her other hand loose from the cloth. But Victoria had all the leverage. She kept her nude body flat against Daphne, watching as her movements started to weaken.
Nooo, Daphne pleaded. Not like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen… like this… “Don’t tell me you’re giving up already,” Victoria whispered. “Not after all that grandstanding you just did. C’mon Daph, fight me….”
But Daphne’s eyes were starting to close. Her pupils were hazy and unfocused. Her eyebrows arched into helplessness.
She was finished.
And with it… oblivion came to claim her.
Victoria’s voice echoed through her mind.
“It’s not enough, Daphne. Not after what you did to me.”
Daphne was barely conscious. She couldn’t move her limbs, couldn’t speak… she could barely keep her eyes open. Victoria removed the cloth a few inches away, granting Daphne was a few moments to attempt to collect her thoughts.
Must… stop….The world started spinning. Daphne lurched, fighting to stay conscious. Next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her stomach, her head resting near one of Eclipse’s pillows, her arms laying uselessly at her side.
“Is this how you imagined it, Daphne?” Victoria asked, so soft Daphne could almost hear her inside her own head. “All those nights you were listening in on my missions… all the times I was defeated… you were secretly fantasizing it was you instead?”
“N…. nooo….” Daphne moaned. “N… never…”
“Oh really?” Victoria taunted. “Then why are you so wet?”
Daphne didn’t know how it was possible. Ten seconds ago she was on the brink of unconsciousness, but as soon as Victoria said it, Daphne became intensely aware of how dripping wet she was. It only added to the humiliation as Daphne realized her crotch was raised high into the air, quivering and shaking.
“Dirty girl,” Victoria whispered. “I’ll bet you’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”
“Noo… oooooohhhhh,” Daphne groaned.
Victoria plunged her fingers deep inside her, driving Daphne straight towards the edge. Her fingers seemed to caress every inch of her pussy, rubbing, feeling, gripping. It was only a matter of seconds before she’d cum, hard.
“No, please…. mmmmpppphhh!!!” Daphne barely had time to think before the rag was forced over her lips once again, the dizzying chemicals mixed with her own electric currents of arousal.
“I’ll bet that’s why you put on my costume,” Victoria said. “To feel what it’s like to have all this power… and then have that power suddenly taken away from you. To be completely and utterly dominated… it’s thrilling, isn’t it?”
Daphne was too exhausted to fight. The combination of the chloroform and the inevitable orgasm building within her thighs had sapped whatever strength she had left. Again she felt her eyelids start to flutter; again, she started to feel herself fading into black…
Until Victoria removed the cloth again and Daphne collapsed against the pillow, too dizzy and weak.
“Please….” Daphne begged. “Victoria, you don’t under…”
But her fingers had entered her once again. This time Victoria seemed to have found her G-spot, driving Daphne back towards the brink of an orgasm. It wasn’t just the feeling of her fingertips caressing her insides… it was the realization that Victoria was completely dominating her. Whatever Victoria had planned, she was going to have her way with Daphne and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it. That thought was driving her insane.
“No, you don’t understand,” Victoria growled as she pressed the cloth back against Daphne’s lips. “I’m the superheroine around here. I’m the one in charge. And you are my fucking lab assistant. You’re here to get me intel, to update my suit, and you don’t go into my fucking bedroom every again. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
When she removed the cloth, Daphne held no resistance. Her lifeless body flopped back against the bed, raising her dripping crotch even higher into the air.
It was over. Daphne was either going to cum or pass out… she wasn’t sure which.
All she was sure about was one thing: she was done for.
She was hers.
“I said, do I make myself perfectly clear?” Victoria demanded.
“Yesss…..” Daphne moaned.
Daphne tried to look up, to see the woman towering above her as she said it: