-----------
The Danger Depot, as Nightfall had insisted on naming it, wasn’t
exactly the ideal superhero base - which, she’d often argued, was what
made it the ideal superhero base. Sure, she could’ve sprung for some
fifty-story crystalline monolith decorated with titanic marble statues
of herself (and maybe a few of her teammates), but a place like that was
just begging to be attacked by supervillains, and she wasn’t interested
in shelling out hundreds of millions of dollars every time they needed
to repair some battle damage.
Instead, she’d purchased a modest two-story office building in downtown Vista City, recently renovated and modified to include some basic living facilities. It was hardly glamorous - hell, most of the repair budget went toward painting over the insulting graffiti people kept spray-painting on the side of the building - but it didn’t need to be. Besides, as the only member of the Danger Dancers who didn’t operate out of Vista City, Nightfall herself rarely used the place. The only time she ever set foot inside the Danger Depot was when one of the other Dancers called a team meeting.
Unfortunately, Ultimaid had requested a team meeting this morning, which meant instead of leaping from rooftop to rooftop putting the fear of God into Harken City’s criminal underbelly, Nightfall was stuck sitting in an uncomfortable office chair while seven other heroes and heroines crowded into a cramped conference room with her. Well, technically six heroes and heroines and one robotic superweapon-turned-secretary, but that wasn’t relevant right now.
Once everyone was situated, Ultimaid rose to her feet. “All right, I’m just going to cut to the chase,” the blue and white-clad blonde began. “Who here has actually defeated a supervillain in the last week?”
Absolutely no one at the table raised their hands.
“Next question: who here has gotten tied up in the last week?”
Everyone at the table raised their hands, Ultimaid included. After a few moments of awkward silence, Ultimaid cleared her throat.
“Okay, if no one else wants to tell their stories first, I’ll start. Doctor Despoiler managed to lure me into a trap and duct-tape me into one of his tantric engines. Again.”
“Which he then used to power the robotic tentacles he used on me when I went to rescue you,” Hellbite grumbled. “So thanks for that.”
“Bah! At least you only had to deal with robotic tentacles!” Fantasmique scoffed. “Some amateur sorceress tried to summon a fleshtaster inside her ex-boyfriend’s bedroom, but she bungled the dimensional anchoring and dumped the bloody thing in my kitchen instead!”
‘We went undercover at one of Sovereign’s slave auctions, but he caught us and decided to subject us to ‘remedial training,’” Pestilence added. “We’ve undone most of the brainwashing and conditioning since our escape, but we still feel a slight ache in our jaw whenever we speak without first being addressed by a man.”
“Fortressa and I were kidnapped by the Humiliatrix and forced to compete against each other in one of her depraved games!” Pulsarette announced, her cheerful tone at odds with her words. “It was a close battle, but Fortressa’s skill and determination surpassed mine, and as the loser, I was subjected to a truly degrading punishment!”
“I’ve already scheduled the appointment with the laser removal clinic,” Fortressa cut in harshly, causing Pulsarette to slump in her chair. “Our reputation is bad enough without one of our headliners walking around with ‘CUM DUMPSTER’ tattooed across her backside.”
“General Winter stopped by a few days ago to retrieve the Frostbite Engine we confiscated from her lair,” Omnis said with his usual unflappable calm. “When she learned that we disassembled it and used its components to build a slushie machine for the break room, she was rather annoyed. Luckily, I was able to knock a pair of scissors off my desk and saw through the zip-ties in time to disarm the snowstorm bomb she left behind.”
Seeing the rest of her teammates looking expectantly at her, Nightfall sighed. “I tracked down another of Pratfall’s lairs, but she and Creepervine double-teamed me - and yes, I mean that in both senses of the word. However, thanks to my impeccable mental discipline, I was able to fight off the effects of Creepervine’s pheromones long enough to gather valuable intel on their next heist. I’m closing the net around them, and it’s only a matter of time before I -”
“- charge headfirst into another trap, get beaten down again, and spend the evening with your face in your arch-enemy’s crotch while her boyfriend pumps you full of ‘pollen’?” Hellbite snarked.
“Sometimes, in order to outmaneuver a master criminal, you have to allow them to believe they have the upper hand,” Nightfall said stoically. “Now, Ultimaid, was there an actual reason for this meeting, or did you just want everyone to recap the worst parts of their week for your amusement?”
“The reason I called this meeting,” Ultimaid explained with a hint of annoyance, “is because we’re in an all-time slump - and by our standards, that’s saying something. We haven’t arrested a single supervillain in over a month, not even by turning the tables on them after escaping like we usually do! At this rate, our reputation will… well, I’m not sure if our reputation actually can get any worse, but I’d rather not find out.”
“So, what exactly do you suppose we should do?” Pestilence asked. “And if your suggestion involves creating a fake villain for us to ‘defeat’ to bolster our reputations, count us out. That plan always backfires.”
“No, nothing like that! I was thinking a change of scenery might do us some good,” Ultimaid said, holding up a stack of airplane tickets. “We’ll take a week’s vacation to visit a new city, meet new superheroes - and best of all, fight new villains who don’t know all of our powers and weaknesses by heart! What do you think?”
“Out of the question,” Nightfall snapped. “Harken City will eat itself alive if I’m off-duty for that long. Besides, I’ve told you time and time again: I do my best work alone. If I have to share a city with all of you and whatever heroes already live there, I’ll be too busy cleaning up everyone else’s messes to get anything done.”
“I thought you’d say something like that,” Ultimaid smiled, taking one of the tickets from the stack and passing it to Nightfall, “so I made sure to buy you a ticket for one of the neighboring cities instead. There’s a few heroes operating there - mainly a mother-daughter pair - but you should still have plenty of space. And despite our… differences of opinion with the Pantheon -”
Mutters of disgust filled the room. The Danger Dancers had never gotten along well with the world-famous hero team that operated just north of them.
“- I’m sure they can keep things under control while we’re gone.”
Nightfall considered that for a moment. On one hand, protecting Harken City was her sworn duty as a superheroine. On the other hand, Iron Maiden would probably get assigned to Harken City if she took a leave of absence, and the idea of making that smug, self-centered bitch deal with the likes of Pratfall, Moaning Lisa, and Leaderboard satisfied her in a way she’d never thought possible.
“...Fine, I’m in.”
“Well, if even Gloomy Gertrude over there is willing to give it a try, I’m not going to be the one to say no,” Fortressa quipped, before looking at her bracelet and frowning. “Though I’m not sure how I’m going to get this thing through airport security...”
“You can count me in as well!” Fantasmique declared. “Just imagine: an entire new city of eager fans, waiting to be dazzled by my brilliant feats of sorcery!” Beside her, Hellbite nodded quietly, a gleam in his eyes at the prospect of gaining fame and recognition in a new locale.
As the other Dancers chimed in with their support for Ultimaid’s plan, Nightfall realized that one key detail had been left unaddressed. “Ultimaid? Where, exactly, did you buy us tickets to?”
“Huh? Well, you’ll be going to Steelboro, but the rest of us are going to New Plymouth. Apparently it has one of the largest superhuman populations of any city in North America! With that many supervillains to choose from, there has to be someone we can beat without getting tied up, right?”
-----------
One week later…
There was an almost tangible cloud of gloom in the air as the Danger Dancers crowded one after another into Ultimaid’s dingy hotel room. Fantasmique was muttering angrily to herself, Hellbite looked like he wanted to tear someone’s throat out more than usual, and Ultimaid herself bore an expression typically reserved for death row inmates on their way to the chair. Even Pulsarette, normally the most upbeat member of the team, looked like she was ready to cry at any moment. The only exceptions were Omnis, who seemed as calm and collected as ever, and Nightfall, who had a smug smirk a mile wide plastered across her face.
Finally, Ultimaid worked up the courage to speak. “Well, I think it’s safe to say our vacation didn’t quite go as planned…”
“You don’t say,” Fortressa grumbled, leaning against the wall. For some reason, she was the only member of the team who had opted to remain standing for the meeting.
“With that many supervillains to choose from, there has to be someone we can beat without getting tied up!” Pestilence snarked, mimicking Ultimaid’s previous words in the whiniest tone she could muster.
“Okay, maybe I should’ve done a bit more research,” Ultimaid admitted, crossing her arms. “In my defense, I didn’t think any city could possibly have as many bondage-obsessed supervillains as Vista City. But we’re going back home in a few hours anyway, so we might as well go over our week. I don’t think I need to ask, but who here got tied up this week?”
Every hand in the hotel room went up - including Omnis’s, much to Ultimaid’s surprise.
“Really? Omnis, I thought you said you were just going to stay in your hotel room and work your way through some paperwork. How did you get yourself captured by a supervillain?”
“Actually, I was not captured by a supervillain,” Omnis explained. “It seems that there was a slight clerical error regarding my current employment. I received some strange looks while I was checking in at the front desk, but I simply assumed people were curious about my costume. Unfortunately, I failed to realize anything was wrong until I opened my door for room service and was greeted with a high-intensity sonic blast…”
-----------
“Come on, come on, just how long can these people keep me on - oh thank God, finally a real person!” Gold Gryphon breathed a sigh of relief, pacing a hole in the hotel carpet as she unmuted her cell phone and held it back up to her ear. “Hello, Pantheon Headquarters? This is Gold Gryphon of the New Plymouth Guardians. I’m calling to report that I’ve apprehended the supervillain Omnis and need to arrange a prisoner pickup.”
“Ymm mrr wmmfhng ymmr tmmm,” Omnis tried to warn her through his gag. After being blasted across the hotel room, the android had recovered quickly, but not quickly enough to stop his assailant from slapping a strip of duct tape over his mouth. Thanks to his copied Masocan DNA, that had been more than enough to render him completely powerless, allowing Gold Gryphon to easily tape him to a chair with the rest of the roll. His arms were stuck to the armrests, his back to the chair’s back, and his legs to the chair’s legs. Just to be safe, she’d finished by wrapping both of his fists in tape, then wrapping the last few feet of the roll around his mouth to reinforce the gag.
“What do you mean, acquitted? He blew up half of Vista City! He has an active warrant out for his arrest nationwide!”
Though Omnis couldn’t hear the other end of Gold Gryphon’s phone call, he had a fairly good idea of what was being said. His creators had programmed him with all of their collective knowledge of the Pantheon, and based on that knowledge, the most probable cause for his outstanding warrant was-
“It never crossed your mind?” Gold Gryphon shouted into the receiver. “You never actually bothered to have the warrant cancelled in the last six months because it never crossed your mind? Of all the lazy, irresponsible - did those assholes just hang up on me?”
“Smmnds hbmmt rmmmt.”
Angrily, Gold Gryphon shoved her phone back in her pocket and began unwinding the tape from around Omnis’s head. “Sorry about this, sir, but it seems like there was a bit of a misunderstanding. The Guardians received a call from a witness who claimed ‘that killer robot from the news’ was staying in her hotel, and apparently the Pantheon never thought to tell anyone outside Vista City that you’ve reformed.”
“They do tend to be rather self-absorbed,” Omnis mused as the gag was removed. “Still, they did remove those irritating loyalty subroutines from my code, so I suppose I should not be too ungrateful.”
As Gold Gryphon began peeling the tape away from Omnis’s torso, a question seemed to occur to her. “...So, you’re a robot, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Then what’s with… well, you know… that?” she asked, blushing a little as she motioned at the large bulge in Omnis’s yellow spandex pants.
“Well, before my power replication system was damaged, I copied Ultimaid’s Masocan DNA, along with all of the accompanying weaknesses,” Omnis explained. “As a result, any skin contact with pressure-sensitive adhesive causes my skin to become much more sensitive, especially with regards to erogenous zones.”
“No, I meant why did your creators even give you… that?” Gold Gryphon asked uncomfortably. “Why even give you a sex drive at all?”
“Most of their instructions have been long since wiped from my databanks, but I suspect they wished for me to publicly ‘display my dominance’ over the Pantheon once I defeated them. A moot point, since I was defeated before I could even face them and I have no intention to do so in the future.”
“That’s - “
Before Gold Gryphon could express her disgust, she was interrupted by a loud buzz from her communicator, forcing her to pause and take the call.
“Gold Gryphon here… What? The airfield? I’ll be right there!” She pocketed her communicator and turned to Omnis. “Sorry, but I just got an urgent distress call from Snow Angel. Looks like you’ll have to finish untying yourself.”
“Not a problem, I’ve -” Omnis was cut off by a backblast of wind as Gold Gryphon flew out the door at top speed. “Well, she was certainly in a hurry. Now, where did I leave those scissors?”
-----------
“Of course, since my hands were taped and my only means of locomotion was to carefully rock my chair back and forth, it took longer than I first estimated to locate my scissors, wedge them in an appropriate location, and saw my way free,” Omnis explained. “Still, I was able to complete my paperwork backlog on schedule, so I consider this vacation a success. I do hope Miss Gryphon was able to resolve the situation with her friend, though.”
“I thought she handled it very well,” Fortressa said absently, only to freeze when she noticed the other Dancers staring at her. “...is what I would probably say if I knew what happened?”
“Fortressa,” Ultimaid said uneasily, “please tell me you didn’t get one of the New Plymouth Guardians captured along with you.”
“It wasn’t my fault this time!” Fortressa insisted. “I kept a tighter hold on that damned bracelet than I ever have, and he just snapped the tether and yanked it off my wrist anyway!”
“Back up a second,” Pestilence interrupted. “Who, exactly, took your bracelet this time?”
“Some speedster in an orange suit. I saw him fighting Snow Angel at an old airfield, and thought I’d drop in and help. But I think after the first few times I put up a wall in his path while he was trying to run away, he figured out where my projections were coming from, and things went downhill from there…”
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“You know, this is a really cool gadget you’ve got here,” Express said, appraising the oversized golden bracelet that now adorned his wrist. “My old record for trussing up a do-gooder is about four seconds, but with this baby, all I have to do is think about it and I can take anyone I want from hero to helpless in the blink of an eye!”
“GHFF HT BAHH!” Fortressa yelled, her words garbled by the shimmering silver bit gag between her teeth. She wasn’t sure what she was more embarrassed by: her bracelet being stolen yet again, the speed at which the villain had figured out how to operate it, or the position he’d put her in shortly after that. Her head and hands were trapped in a large silver stockade, forcing her to keep her upper body bent forward at a 90-degree angle. Her legs were spread out to either side of her in a wide stance, and her feet were trapped inside immovable silver boxes, preventing her from assuming a more comfortable position.
“It’s too bad I can’t just keep this thing for myself,” Express mused, rubbing his backside. The first thing he’d tried to do after stealing the bracelet was flee the fight, but the spatial locking function had activated the moment he had moved five yards from Fortressa, jerking him off his feet as the bracelet stopped itself in midair and refused to move any further. If he’d been just a few seconds slower getting his bearings after that fall, Snow Angel would have frozen him solid. Unfortunately for her, Express been just a little quicker on the draw.
“I mean, it’s like this thing was made for me!” he taunted, waving the arm with the bracelet a few inches from Fortressa’s nose. “If I can bundle up Frosty over there like it was nothing, can you imagine what I could do to the other Guardians?”
“HMMFFF!” Snow Angel cried, staying as still as she could as she tried to come up with a way to warn the other Guardians about this new threat. Her entire body had been mummified from the neck down in flexible silver bandages, and a silver ball gag was wedged between her lips. The more she struggled, the tighter the bandages seemed to constrict around her breasts until she stopped. To add insult to injury, Express had stuffed her inside a cramped silver cage, forcing her to keep her knees pressed up against her chest in a fetal position.
“Oh well, guess I’ll have to settle for delivering that experimental engine to White Ibis and adding a few extra zeroes to my bank account,” Express smirked. “Hmm.. I wonder how much of a bonus I can squeeze out of her if I offer to throw in a pair of tied-up super-cuties?”
“DHNN HFFN THNNG HBHHT H-YYYRRRRRGGHH!” Fortressa screamed as a pair of silver crocodile clamps latched onto her nipples through the spandex of her costume.
“But before I do anything like that, I think I’m owed a little payback for all those barriers you kept dropping in front of me,” Express said, zipping behind her so quickly she couldn’t even see him move. “When you run as fast as I do, hitting an unbreakable wall at top speed hurts like a bitch. And you know what else hurts like a bitch at top speed?”
In the time it took Fortressa to realize what Express was about to do, her ass was already rippling from the first spank. He was able to squeeze in three more spanks before the sound waves from her screaming got far enough for Snow Angel to hear them. As a flurry of supersonic swats pelted Fortressa’s rear like a machine gun, Snow Angel could only wince in sympathy.
“Poor rookie, getting into a situation like this on her first day of heroism. I hope one of the other Guardians gets here soon, or she probably won’t be able to sit down for the next month…”
-----------
“After the little bastard had his fun tanning my hide, Gold Gryphon finally showed up just in time to stop him from carrying us off to whoever he was working for,” Fortressa grumbled. “She had some trouble dealing with my bracelet at first, but it turns out Speedy didn’t have quite enough focus to keep two heroines bound while fighting a third, and he dropped Snow Angel’s restraints by accident. The two of them knocked him flat, and I got my bracelet back - and a talking-to from Snow Angel about jumping into battles too dangerous for ‘rookie heroes’, which I did not appreciate.”
“That’s an understatement if we ever heard one,” Pestilence said, the corners of her black lips curling up in a teasing smile. “Last time we checked, the security camera footage of your response had over 300,000 views on MetaTube. We’re pretty sure most of the things you told her to do are anatomically impossible, and at least two of them are illegal in this state.”
“Great, just great,” Ultimaid groaned, letting herself fall backwards onto the bed she was sitting on. “The whole point of us coming here was to fix our bad reputation, and now there’s a viral video of one of our founding members calling one of the city’s most beloved heroes a ‘triple-scoop ice cream cu-’”
“Might want to watch where you throw stones,” Hellbite said, stifling a chuckle as he pulled a crumpled-up newspaper page out of his keikogi and unfolded it for the other Dancers to see. “While I was on my way here, I noticed this on a newsstand and thought the picture looked like someone I knew - the parts that weren’t blurred out, anyway.”
Ultimaid picked herself off the bed just long enough to glimpse the headline, then groaned and flopped back onto the bed, clamping both hands over her eyes.
“NEW PLYMOUTH GUARDIANS FOIL MUSEUM HEIST! AMATEUR HEROINE RESCUED FROM HUMILIATING PREDICAMENT!”
“All right, I’ll admit it: I’m curious,” Nightfall said dryly. “How did that girl with the floating rock get the drop on you? She’s only a couple inches taller than me, so somehow I’m guessing she didn’t overpower you with brute strength.”
“In hindsight, I should have guessed her powers when I noticed every guard in the museum was asleep,” Ultimaid admitted. “When I moved in to arrest her, she held that rock of hers up like she was trying to shield herself with it, and then all I can remember is purple waves followed by a whole lot of nothing…”
-----------
“Wakey wakey, blondie! We need to have a little talk.”
“Grrggghh…” Ultimaid groaned, shaking herself awake. She didn’t bother trying to stretch her arms; after all the times she’d woken up in bondage, she’d learned to quickly recognize the feeling of tape on her skin.
This time, she was chained to a medieval rack she’d spotted on her way through the museum - part of an exhibit on historical torture devices, if she recalled correctly. Her wrists and ankles had been manacled to the rollers, which her captor had cranked just far enough apart to make her limbs ache and leave her with no slack whatsoever.
Normally, her inhuman strength would have allowed her to turn the ancient, rusty chains to dust with a brief flex of her muscles, but evidently her captor knew about her hated weakness. Her costume had been taken off in her sleep, and two broad strips of white masking tape had been pressed over each of her nipples in an X shape, robbing her of her power. To add insult to injury, her panties had been balled up and stuffed into her mouth, and another few feet of masking tape had been wound around her head to silence her.
“What happened this time? Let’s see… my super-senses picked up suspicious movement in the museum, I snuck in to investigate, and then that girl in the blue suit-”
“Oh good, you’re finally awake!” A teasing voice interrupted Ultimaid’s thoughts, and her bleary eyes finally took notice of the supervillain standing in front of her. She didn’t look particularly intimidating at first glance, aside from the lavender glow shrouding her eyes and the strange purple rock floating a few inches above her outstretched hand.
“Whm mrr ymm?” Ultimaid demanded, her manacles rattling above her head as she tested her bonds.
“You can call me Dreamcatcher, sweetie,” the woman said, running her fingers along Ultimaid’s stomach. “At least, that’s what you can call me when you aren’t sucking on a mouthful of your own panties.”
“Ghhnnnn….” Ultimaid groaned, shivers running down her spine as Dreamcatcher's fingertips traced up and down her abs. Even with the relatively small amount of tape covering her mouth and nipples, her skin was almost twice as sensitive as normal.
“I bet you’re wondering why I’m sitting around here playing with you instead of finishing my robbery,” Dreamcatcher said, raising her voice to be heard over the shrieks of arousal as her fingers moved up to tease Ultimaid’s breasts. “Sorry to say, I was never going to steal anything from here in the first place. I was hoping to lure one of the New Plymouth Guardians in, but things panned out even better than I expected! The chance to pick an out-of-town heroine’s brain doesn’t come along all that often, you know!”
She’d moved from teasing to outright groping now, and Ultimaid had to struggle to focus on her words through the heady fog of arousal. “You know how a lot of boring people collect things like stamps and rocks? I prefer to collect secrets. All I have to do is put people to sleep, and I can go through their minds and learn aaaaaaall the dirty little secrets they don’t want anyone else to ever find out!”
Suddenly, she gave Ultimaid’s nipples a sharp tweak through the tape, making the blonde heroine scream and snapping her out of her daze. “But I couldn’t do that with you! When I tried to go after your secrets, you somehow kept pushing me back, even while you were asleep! No one’s ever kept me out before!”
A smug grin crept onto Ultimaid’s face under the tape. After a particularly rough encounter with Sovereign, she’d searched through her collection of Masocan holodrives until she’d found a training video on how to protect her mind from telepathic intrusions. It wasn’t a perfect defense by any means and it had taken her a while to learn, but in the long run, it was quicker than spending a week or two de-conditioning her mind every time the sadistic slaver got his hands on her. And if her mental barriers were solid enough to inconvenience one of the world’s most powerful telepaths, this Dreamcatcher didn’t stand a chance.
“But I was able to get one secret out of your mind before you forced me out,” Dreamcatcher smirked, sending Ultimaid into another moaning fit as she started groping her boobs once again. “Tape is your biggest weakness, isn’t it? For any other hero, a few flimsy strips of masking tape wouldn’t be a problem. But stick a few strips on you, and not only does all your power go bye-bye, but you start dripping like a leaky faucet!”
Ultimaid grimaced at the observation. She was so used to fighting villains who already knew her weakness, she’d forgotten to put any mental defenses around that particular bit of info.
That grimace turned into a squeal as Dreamcatcher illustrated her point by dragging a fingertip along the soaking wet folds of Ultimaid’s bare pussy. “So since I didn’t succeed at first, I just need to try, try again! Only this time, before I put you under, I’m going to make sure you’re so exhausted that I can plow straight through your barriers!”
A second and third finger joined the first in stroking Ultimaid’s snatch, and she had to bite down hard on her panties to stop herself from screaming. Her resistance only lasted a few seconds before all three fingers slid inside her at once, sending shockwaves of pleasure racing through her, amplifying with each thrust into her womanhood.
“I’m thinking five - no, better make it six, just to be safe!” Dreamcatcher decided. “Six orgasms, then I’ll put you back under and search around until I know every little detail about you and all your pretty superheroine friends. And from the way you’re looking now, I think orgasm number one is just around the corner…”
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“Luckily for us, she got a little too carried away playing with me and lost count of how many times I came,” Ultimaid sighed. “I was somewhere around orgasm number eight when Pneuma and Magnitude showed up and drove her off. I just wish she hadn’t taken my costume with her when she escaped - I had to borrow a blanket until I could get back to my room and change into one of my backup costumes.”
She forced herself to smile a little, reaching down to the cooler by her bedside and cracking open a can of soda. “On the bright side, it turns out Dreamcatcher is a new villain the Guardians didn’t know about yet, so they had no clue what she was capable of until I told them. If she’d caught one of them instead of me, there’s no telling what she might have learned - access codes, safehouse locations, secret identities…”
“Careful there, sweetie,” Fantasmique teased. “This team already has one bumbling heroine who keeps obsessively insisting all her failures are actually successes. Is a second one really necessary?”
“Your failure to understand my methods doesn’t make them any less effective,” Nightfall cut in. “And since I seem to be the only one in this room who’s arrested a supervillain this week, I’d say my methods wo-”
Nightfall was interrupted by a spray of cola across her visor, courtesy of a coughing Ultimaid. “Wait, you mean you actually captured a villain? Not a ‘moral victory’ or a ‘deliberate tactical loss’ or anything like that?”
“My scanners are not picking up any recognizable hallucinogens or mind-altering substances in the air,” Omnis piped up, cocking his head in confusion. “Perhaps I should run further tests, just to be sure?”
“Of course I did,” Nightfall said bluntly, paying no heed to the dumbfounded stares of her fellow vigilantes, or the way Hellbite and Fantasmique were huddling together and muttering fearfully about signs of the apocalypse. “Since I only had a week to make an impact on crime in Steelboro, I couldn’t afford to waste a moment. I had to take risks I wouldn’t normally take and directly challenge the deadliest supervillain in the city. It took me a few days to catch her in the act, but soon enough I was squaring off with a ruthless behemoth made of solid steel…”
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“That ought to do it,” Alloy said to herself, sweeping another shelf of computer components into a bulging canvas bag. “Wasn’t easy finding a computer store that had everything on the doc’s shopping list, but with this stuff, he shouldn’t have any problem building that ‘polarity scrambler’ or whatever the hell he called it.”
“Yhh whnn gh hwhh whff thff!”
“That just leaves the question of what to do with you,” Alloy said, turning away from the shelf and looking down on the bound, drooling form of Harken City’s greatest (and only) superheroine. “Gotta admit, girl, you’ve got balls. No brains and no skills, but balls. I’ve been doing this supervillain thing for a while, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen someone knock themselves out by headbutting me!”
“Ht lhhkkd lhhk a sfft spht!” Nightfall argued, trying and failing to slip free of the assortment of spare parts Alloy had bound her with. Her arms had been pinned together behind her back with five large plastic zip-ties, with a smaller tie fastening her thumbs together, hindering her escape attempts even further. The remainder of the pack of zip-ties had been used to bind her legs together, and her wrists and ankles were lashed together with an extension cord in a back-straining hogtie. Several microfiber cloths meant for cleaning computer monitors were balled up and packed into her mouth, tied in place with a thin cable Alloy had torn from a spare keyboard. Even her visor had been wrapped from top to bottom in thin black electrical tape, effectively blindfolding her.
“Well, count yourself lucky, girl,” Alloy chuckled. “After all the times I’ve gotten launched through buildings by a brat whose age hasn’t even hit double digits yet, wiping the floor with you was a nice change of pace, so I’ll just leave you here for the cops instead of taking you with me. I’m keeping that belt of yours, though - the doc always loves getting his hands on new superhero gadgets.”
“Hhy! Hnndf hff!” Nightfall yelled, trying to squirm away. Unfortunately, she wasn’t going anywhere fast in her current position, and Alloy barely had to take a single step forward before reaching down, unclasping Nightfall’s utility belt, and mockingly holding it in front of her own waist.
“It’s too bad this thing’s too small to fit me,” Alloy said with a laugh. “If you ask me, it looks way better on me than it does on you!”
If Alloy had been paying a bit less attention to Nightfall and a bit more attention to her stolen belt, she might have noticed a soft click as her metallic thumb brushed against a black disk hanging from the side of the belt. Not that it mattered - even if she’d heard the click, she wouldn’t have expected the disk to explode into a twirling mess of tangled metal cables.
“Gah! What the hell?” Alloy cursed as the cables wrapped around her body in the blink of an eye, lashing her legs together, yanking her arms into a boxtie position, and twisting into a very attractive (if highly uncomfortable) breast harness around her torso. “What kind of shibari bullshi-MMFFF!”
Nightfall’s utility belt clattered to the ground, followed shortly by Alloy herself. The former boxer gnashed her teeth furiously against the knotted tangle of cables wedged between her lips, but Nightfall was never one to skimp on materials when designing her gadgets, and whatever the cables were made of was far too resilient for even a super-strong metahuman like Alloy to break.
Ignoring the bite of the tightly-wound cord chafing against the corners of her mouth, Nightfall smirked at her fallen opponent as she thrashed around on the linoleum, searching for any weakness in the cables. It was a weakness she’d never find - Nightfall’s cable traps were built to hold far stronger metahumans without breaking. She’d designed this particular booby-trap as a last-ditch countermeasure in case a criminal somehow managed to steal her trusty utility belt, and it had paid off in spades.
Her victory secured, Nightfall slowly began to scoot herself down the aisle toward the storeroom in the back of the shop, searching for a box cutter or something similar she could use to slice through the zip-ties…
-----------
“And that was that,” Nightfall concluded. “After I freed myself, I called the police to come pick up Alloy, then disappeared into the night. Just another day’s work for the Shadow of Justice.”
An awkward silence pervaded the room. All of the Danger Dancers were intimately familiar with Nightfall’s haphazard approach to gadget design, and none of them believed for a second Nightfall had intentionally constructed a booby trap that worked exactly as intended. The more likely explanation was that the “trap” had simply been another of her malfunctioning gadgets, and it was only by the whims of chance that Alloy had activated it before Nightfall could set it off herself.
However, they were also familiar with Nightfall’s unshakable delusions of competence. No matter how badly she was defeated, captured, and humiliated by any criminal she faced, she would always insist her loss was simply a small part of a larger gambit that would eventually lead to her victory. Now that one of her “plans” had actually worked out in her favor for a change, there was no way in hell she would ever admit it had been an accident, not even to herself.
“...Great work, Nightfall!” Ultimaid finally spoke, breaking the silence. “See, guys? Some of us might have had a bit of a rough time, but our overall success rate is way higher than it was last week! This vacation was a great idea after all!”
“Oh, please!” Famtasmique laughed. “I hardly think trapping a single incompetent supervillain by accident is a victory. If you want to outshine me, you’ll have to try harder than that.”
“So how’d your week go then?” Fortressa asked casually.
Suddenly, the blood seemed to drain from Fantasmique’s face. “I… ah… that is to say…”
“Well? We’re waiting,” Ultimaid teased. Even as hard as she tried to be the mature and upbeat leader of the Danger Dancers, some part of her always enjoyed seeing the arrogant magician taken down a peg. “Go ahead, dazzle us with tales of your unparalleled sorcerous might!”
“If you must know, I spent my week matching wits with one of this city’s most cunning criminal masterminds!” Fantasmique huffed, crossing her arms. “All it took me was a single scrying spell to track down a villain the famed New Plymouth Guardians have been hunting for years! My magic sent those pathetic chess-masked minions of hers flying away like leaves on an autumn breeze, and if she hadn’t cheated, I would have done the same to her!”
“What do you mean, cheated?” Hellbite interjected, rolling his eyes. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re crimefighters, not shogi players. What did she do, attack before you were ready instead of sitting around and waiting her turn?”
Fantasmique’s blush was visible even through her veil. “W-well, funny you should say that…”
-----------
“For all your power, you may just be the most incompetent interloper I’ve ever had to waste my time with,” Caissa said, irritation evident in her voice. “You barge into my lair alone, cast my henchmen aside like broken toys, and then have the nerve to think I’ll wait for you to finish your speech about how feeble and outmatched I am before striking back at you?”
“Rllmmph mh, ymm bmmph!” Fantasmique demanded, clawing at the edges of the bent plate of metal wrapped around the lower half of her face. Her legs kicked helplessly in the air beneath her as the makeshift gag, enveloped in the black glow of Caissa’s spatial manipulation powers, carried her across the room until she was face to face with the masked villainess.
“Tell me, do you think reality obeys the same laws as one of those insipid Japanese cartoons?” Caissa asked, leaning back on her throne as one of her Pawns approached with an armful of ropes. “Or are you simply so self-absorbed that you never considered I’d dare to interrupt you?”
She gestured lazily with one hand, and Fantasmique’s costume took on the same black glow as her gag before twisting and tearing itself into shreds. Her cry of indignation went unheeded, as Caissa simply gestured again, causing the rope in her minion’s arms to dart forth like a horde of snakes and wind its way around Fantasmique’s body.
“However, despite your breathtaking stupidity, you somehow managed to track down my current base of operations,” Caissa observed, casting an appraising eye over Fantasmique’s lithe body as she was expertly bound into a wriggling bundle. Her arms were cruelly yanked behind her back into an agonizing reverse prayer tie, which was joined with a crushingly tight breast harness to make her already impressive chest stand out even more than usual. Her legs, in turn, were bound with an inescapable frogtie, and a pair of ropes looped around her big toes and stretched up to her wrists, forcing her to keep her feet in an en pointe position.
“I obviously can’t have you running back to those accursed Guardians - or anyone else, for that matter - and telling them where I’ve been hiding out,” Caissa explained. “Normally I’d solve this problem in a rather... permanent fashion, but killing a heroine as laughable as you seems a bit much. It would be almost like shooting a puppy - a particularly dumb puppy, at that. But as it happens, I have a more palatable solution at hand.”
Another Pawn approached from the throne’s other side, and Fantasmique’s heart dropped into her stomach as she saw the items they were carrying. “DMM’T YMM DMMR! GMT THMT MWMM FRMM MM!” she screamed, her body jiggling against her restraints. But it was no use - with her mouth covered, Fantasmique was as powerless as any normal woman, and Caissa’s complete control over the ropes she was suspended in, she couldn’t move a muscle.
“Since you clearly don’t have anything of value to contribute to my organization besides your body, you can repay the damages you caused to my base by serving as my personal toy,” Caissa said, her mocking tone betraying the smirk she wore behind her mask. She gestured once more, and Fantasmique’s muffled groans filled the room as a chastity belt with a prominent pair of internal dildos slid its way inside of her and locked itself around her hips. The metal plate unbent and fell away from her lips, but before she could even think of uttering an incantation, her veil was torn away to join the other scraps of her costume, clearing the way for a massive dildo gag to force itself into her mouth.
All at once, Caissa released her hold on the ropes, and Fantasmique cried out as she hit the ground with a thud. “Perhaps if you amuse me enough in the days to come, I’ll replace your current gag with a ring gag and permit you to pleasure me, though I doubt you’re competent enough for even that simple a task. Until then, you’ll simply have to entertain me through your suffering!”
With a snap of Caissa’s fingers, a smaller, almost invisible bit of spatial manipulation flipped a pair of switches deep within Fantasmique’s chastity belt, sending her into a moaning spasm as they sprung to life. Thanks to the experience she’d gained over her dubious hero career, Fantasmique could already tell the vibration wasn’t quite strong enough for her to actually cum, but it was more than enough to leave her writhing and groaning on the concrete floor.
“I think a few hours of edging will do for a start,” Caissa said, leaning her head on one arm as she savored Fantasmique’s futile struggles and muted pleas for mercy. “After that, if you’re still feeling willful, I’ll see about whipping some obedience into that miniscule brain of yours myself…”
-----------
“I swear, that infernal woman was better suited to be a dominatrix than a criminal mastermind!” Fantasmique fumed. “There wasn’t a waking moment that passed where she wasn’t edging me, flogging me, shocking me, or indulging whatever other sadistic whims crossed her mind!”
For the first time since the start of the meeting, Pulsarette’s head perked up. “Did you overhear any clues about where her other bases might be?” she abruptly blurted out. “You know, so we can hunt her down and bring her to justice or whatever.”
“As if I had any intentions of dealing with that witch any longer than I had to!” Fantasmique snarled, causing Pulsarette to slump back down. “If it hadn’t been for that network outage, I’d still be in her clutches, and I have no desire to go back and try my luck again!”
“Network outage?” Omnis asked, confused. “To the best of my knowledge, none of New Plymouth’s primary internet providers reported any sort of outage this week.”
“Well, something must have happened, because one moment I was being levitated into the air by my crotch rope, and the next I was lying on the ground while she screamed something about wi-fi and started barking orders to her minions. Needless to say, I took that opportunity to hop my way out of her lair while she was distracted, and I have no plans to return.”
Pestilence couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “So not only were you humiliated by a supervillain yet again, but Nightfall outperformed you this week? We wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now.”
“Well, if you’re so confident you did better, let’s hear how your week went!” Fantasmique retorted. “Unless you of all people managed to capture a supervillain for a change, you have no room to talk!”
Pestilence smirked. “As a matter of fact, we did capture a supervillain this week. In fact, we terrified her so badly she turned herself in to escape us!”
“How the hell did you manage that?” Hellbite asked, his jaw dropping. “Did she watch one of your attempts at martial arts and mistake you for an escaped mental patient?”
“While our reputation in Vista City is…” Pestilence seemed to argue with herself for several seconds before deciding on the proper word choice. “...regrettably tainted due to a rough start, we have no such handicap here. And what better way to defeat a telepath than through mental warfare?”
-----------
“You’re absolutely sure this is the place, Blue?” Officer Gloria Lozano asked, looking skeptically at the abandoned shipping center currently surrounded by SWAT officers. Armored vans lined the streets around the building, and several trained snipers had taken up positions on the surrounding rooftops - all taking great care to stay at least a hundred feet away from any given part of the building.
“Da. Wi-Fi glimpsed her while searching through the traffic camera footage you provided, and I was able to tail her here,” Russian Blue said, watching the shipping center windows for any sign of movement inside. “However, my power is a poor match-up for hers, so unfortunately I couldn’t rescue the Mayor myself.”
“Well, if you can’t sneak in, we’ll just have to take her down the old-fashioned way, won’t we?” Gloria grinned, spinning a pair of handcuffs on one finger.
“Don’t let your guard down,” Russian Blue chided. “Psychopomp is no common criminal. Even with all this preparation, she may still slip through our fingers.”
“R-right, sorry!” Gloria stammered, pulling a walkie-talkie off her belt and speaking into it. “Is everyone in position?”
“All clear.”
“Ready and waiting.”
“On your command.”
Trembling with anticipation, Gloria put her walkie-talkie away and grabbed a megaphone off the seat of her squad car. “Psychopomp!” she announced. “This is the New Plymouth Police Department! We have you surrounded, and backup from the New Plymouth Guardians is standing by! Release Mayor Sweet and exit the building with your hands behind your head!”
In that moment, Russian Blue was prepared for anything. An explosion to draw their attention from an escape attempt, a furious head-on counterattack, or even a tense hostage negotiation.
He wasn’t prepared for the bound and gagged form of Mayor Sweet to be literally thrown through the shipping center’s front door. The curvy older woman yelped into the ball gag between her lips as she hit the ground, the padded blue-and-yellow sleepsack she was encased in from the neck down thankfully protecting her from any harm the impact might have caused. Seconds later, Psychopomp herself walked through the door, holding her arms behind her head in a gesture of surrender.
Gloria’s face brightened, but Russian Blue held out an arm in front of her. “Could be a trap. Keep a safe distance.”
Cautiously, Russian Blue approached the alien, sliding a pair of handcuffs across the ground to her once he was close enough. “Put those on, and we’ll talk about your surrender.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Psychopomp muttered, scooping up the handcuffs and quickly cuffing her wrists behind her back. “I’ll happily go along to whatever detention facility you Earthlings believe is advanced enough to hold me. I may even stay there for a while before escaping, so long as you keep them as far away from me as possible.”
“Them? You mean you’re keeping someone besides the Mayor in there?” Russian Blue asked, surprised.
“The Mayor has nothing to do with it - in fact, savoring her fear was almost enough to make this whole ordeal worth my while,” Psychopomp said, a brief flicker of a smirk crossing her face before her scowl returned. “It’s the other two that are the problem! They tried to rescue the Mayor themselves, but even after I defeated them, I couldn’t get the slightest hint of fear out of them - and what’s worse, they refuse to stop their insipid bickering for even a moment!”
That was enough to pique Russian Blue’s curiosity. Hoisting Psychopomp over his shoulder, he made his way inside the shipping center.
“Just what do you think you’re doing, Earthling?” Psychopomp demanded, kicking furiously at him as she was carried deeper into her abandoned lair. “I specifically told you to take me away from here!”
“Just a bit of insurance, in case you left any traps,” Russian Blue said coolly. Soon, he found what he could only assume to be one of the captives: a blue-haired girl wearing a creepy-looking red and black latex bodysuit, tied in a far more stringent position than Mayor Sweet had been subjected to. Her wrists and elbows were bound behind her back with metal bands and suspended from the ceiling with a pair of tractor beams, forcing her to bend forward and raise her arms up until her elbows were behind her head. Two metal bands were clasped around her ankles, and a telescoping metal rod was extended to its fullest length between them, keeping her legs spread far apart. An enormous black bit gag and a black leather blindfold were both locked onto her head, as well as a thick metal collar that seemed to be sparking with electricity.
“And aside from everything else you did wrong, why did you think taking a telepath on in a fair fight was a good idea in the first place? If you’d just taken my suggestion and set the building on fire before going in, we could have kept her on the back foot long enough to defeat her!”
“Yeah, and we would’ve roasted the Mayor, too! You know, the whole reason we went after her in the first place?”
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. Back when I had a competent host, we could’ve torched the place, gutted that alien like a fish, and hauled Mayor Butterball out of the flames before she got anything worse than a few measly second-degree burns!”
“Well, we’re supposed to be heroes now, Chimmy! So that means no setting buildings on fire, no endangering innocent people, and definitely no gutting people like fish!”
“And apparently, it also means we get our hindquarters kicked and strung up from the ceiling by a weirdly attractive telepathic alien.”
“Now that you mention it, she actually was pretty good-looking, wasn’t she? Aside from the stupid-looking costume with all the weird holes.”
“Oh dear sweet Source, they’re still going,” Psychopomp groaned, trying to bury her head in the fabric of Russian Blue’s costume. “I thought you Earthlings considered torture a barbaric practice these days?”
“I’m… not sure what you’re talking about,” Russian Blue admitted, scratching his head as he looked at the bound, wiggling captive. “There’s clearly only a single person here, and she isn’t saying anything.”
“I’m telepathic, you incompetent sack of organs! That suit of hers has a mind of its own, and she never stops arguing with it! I was ready to beat myself into unconsciousness with my own staff by the time your pathetic law enforcement team arrived!”
“Oh hey, I just heard some guy with a Russian accent out there! Do you think it’s Russian Blue? I’ve always wanted to meet him! I should totally ask him for his autograph!”
“Miley, if you even think of debasing our reputation even further by fangirling over some spandex-clad piece of eye candy while wearing me, the first thing I’m going to do once we get this shock collar off is give you a wedgie so hard it’ll make your grandparents flinch!”
“Come on, don’t get all high and mighty with me about fangirling! Do you really think I didn’t pick up on that dirty dream you were having about Orbweaver on the flight over here?”
“Please, someone just put me out of my misery already…”
-----------
“After Russian Blue untied us, he thanked us for our help in saving the Mayor and offered us a position in the Guardians as a trainee hero,” Pestilence finished, her tone an odd mix of worshipful and deeply insulted. “We had to explain to him we were already part of a different team from out of town.”
“So those are our success stories for the week?” Hellbite snarked. “One villain gift-wrapping herself for us, and another one giving herself up out of sheer annoyance?”
“When you have our reputation problems, you have to take what you can get,” Pestilence shot back. “And besides, we’re currently the only team member besides Nightfall with something to show for our efforts. Since you’ve been talking so much trash, we’re sure you’d be happy to share your own supervillain success story!”
“For your information, there’s more to fighting crime than simply taking down supervillains,” Hellbite said with a none-too-subtle hint of irritation. “Just because one lucky metahuman interrupted my winning streak doesn’t mean I-”
“You went after that Apex guy, didn’t you?” Fortressa said with a knowing smirk.
“Despite what you humans seem to think, I’m not an idiot,” Hellbite growled, clenching his fists. “Even if I wanted to test whether his control over animals extends to inugami, picking a fight with the man who probably owns more collars than anyone else in the state would go about as well for me as Ultimaid trying to thwart a robbery at a duct tape factory.”
“I only did that once!” Ultimaid protested. “And it was only because I was the closest team member and I thought they were getting away!”
“So instead, I decided to stick to the streets and build my reputation the old-fashioned way: through fear,” Hellbite continued as if the Dancers’ leader had never spoken. “I prowled the slums and alleys day and night, leaving thieves, muggers, and drug pushers lying in broken heaps in the gutter wherever I went. And when they woke, they spread tales of a boogeyman, an unstoppable predator capable of - WILL YOU STOP DOING THAT?!”
“We regret nothing,” Pestilence snickered, reluctantly ceasing the jerking-off hand motions she’d started making during Hellbite’s speech.
“Thank you,” Hellbite grumbled before continuing his story. “Unfortunately, there are always those humans who hear tales of the boogeyman and treat them as a challenge instead of a warning - and some of them are irritatingly good at subterfuge. I showed up at a condemned flat to investigate a tip-off about a drug deal, and the next thing I knew the entire building was coming down on my head! I had to push my luck manipulation to its limit to get out of there without anything worse than a few bruises - and naturally, it burned out right before some girl with a ridiculous haircut attacked me…”
-----------
“So, you’re the big, scary new vigilante everyone keeps blabbing on about?” Ripple taunted, slowly pacing circles around her quarry like a vulture. “Nah, it can’t be you. When I was breaking a bunch of my pals out of the slammer, they said the guy who beat the shit out of them was a bona-fide, grade-A badass, not some lightweight bitch who goes down after a couple good punches.”
“H’M NAH A BIHFF! YUH DRRPFD A FUHHNNG BHLLDNNG ON MH!” Hellbite growled around the bone-shaped bit gag wedged tightly between his lips. After waking up from the beatdown Ripple had given him in his exhausted state, he’d found himself tied to a metal chair in an apartment that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the last presidential administration. His arms were lashed together and pinned uncomfortably between the chair and his back, and his legs had been similarly tied and tucked into the gap between the seat and front support bar, allowing a short hogtie rope to run between his wrists and ankles for added security.
But his restraints weren’t nearly as much of a concern as the cheap plastic dog collar around his neck. He didn’t have to be told to figure out that the crazy delinquent had been the one to put it on him - which meant that until it was removed, not only would he be unable to use any of his demonic abilities, but he’d be forced to obey any order she gave him.
“You sure about that?” Ripple asked. “Cause it looks to me like everything about you just screams ‘bitch’. You look like a bitch, you got your ass kicked like a bitch, you’ve got a collar on your neck and a bone in your mouth like a bitch, and you’re even getting off on all this like a bitch!”
“H’M NAH GEHHING - AAHHHHGGHH!” Hellbite groaned as Ripple suddenly reached in and pressed the palm of her hand against his crotch, using her power to make it vibrate intensely. His member went from soft to rock-hard in an instant, straining against the tight, stretchy fabric of his tights until it was plainly visible.
“What did I tell you?” Ripple said with a cruel laugh, using both hands to tear open the front of Hellbite’s pants so his cock could stand tall. He only had a moment’s respite before her vibrating hand closed around his shaft once more, roughly stroking him up and down.
“You’re supposed to be this badass fucking crimefighter, and here you are, tied to a chair by the girl who knocked your ass flat, bucking into her hand like a horny loser! You know what that makes you in my books? A weak, pathetic little bitch! That’s B, I, T, C, H!” With each letter, she cranked up the vibrations pulsing through her hand more and more, raising the pitch of Hellbite’s humiliated moans higher and higher.
Unfortunately for him, that was when Ripple took notice of the trickle of precum dripping down her glove. “Ughh, you’re already leaking? Don’t you fucking dare cum until I say you can, bitch! If you get my costume dirty with your loser jizz, I’ve got a strap-on with your name on it!”
Ripple had no way of knowing that Hellbite’s groan of despair wasn’t because of her threat, but because of the way she’d worded it. He could already feel the order clamping down around his very being like an iron band, rendering him completely incapable of climaxing until she gave him explicit permission.
Even more unfortunately for him, a sadistic grin slid across Ripple’s face. “Huh… Now that I think about it, fucking your ass raw doggy-style would be a great way to drive home the whole ‘bitch’ thing home, wouldn’t it? Maybe I should make this a bit harder on you - no pun intended!”
Hellbite wasn’t given any opportunity to protest before Ripple released his cock and took a seat on his lap - not that she would have listened to any protest, obviously. As soon as her costume-covered crotch was pressed up nicely against his erection, it began to vibrate the same way her hand had, sending his arousal into overdrive! Before he could so much as scream, Ripple grabbed the back of his head and yanked his face deep into her cleavage, stifling his cries.
“Some boogeyman you are!” Ripple mocked, laughing as Hellbite groaned and gasped for air. She released the back of his head just long enough for him to get a good gulp in before forcing his face back between her tits. “If you’re such a big, bad crimefighting badass, shouldn’t you be throwing me in the slammer instead of sitting there moaning and grinding on me with your nose in my titties? Fuck, I wish I’d brought a camera with me so I could show all those punks you beat up what a horny, worthless bitch you are!”
Even as he started to thrust his hips mindlessly, caught in a trance of his own overpowering arousal, Ripple’s next words sent a chill down Hellbite’s spine.
“Oh right, I did!”
CLICK!
-----------
“I spent nearly two hours with her crawling all over me trying to make me cum before she finally gave up and ordered me to,” Hellbite said with a grimace. “On the bright side, she wasn’t able to figure out how much control she had over me before some girl with the same fashion sense as her showed up and punched her through the wall.”
“And on the not-so-bright side, I’m guessing that rescue didn’t happen until nearly a full day later, and she took lots of photos and videos before then?” Ultimaid said wearily, looking closely at her phone.
“W-well, yes, but how did you-” Hellbite’s eyes widened in realization, and his lips twisted into a furious snarl as he leapt for the door. Fortressa and Pestilence managed to grab his arms as he passed them, using all of their combined might to overcome his demonic strength and hold him back.
“THAT INTOLERABLE WRETCH OF A HUMAN! When I get my hands on her, I’ll pour fire down her throat until she’s nothing but charcoal!”
“Come now, look on the bright side!” Fantasmique taunted, always one to drive the boot in when her teammates were down. “You spent the whole flight down here rattling on and on about how you’d finally have the fame you deserve, and now you do! Though I must say, starring in the month’s most popular amateur video on MetaPorn isn’t the type of fame I’d choose!”
“Okay, I think we’ve heard more than enough about how Hellbite’s week went for now!” Ultimaid blurted quickly, trying to defuse the situation before the two egotistical heroes started a fight that would cost her the deposit on her hotel room. “By my count, that’s everyone accounted for, except for… uh…”
Every head in the room turned to Pulsarette, who was curled up in the corner, quietly sobbing.
“Uh, Pulsarette, are you doing okay?” Ultimaid asked hesitantly, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Normally you’d be congratulating us all on a successful week, or asking for more details on how our ‘sessions’ went, or something like that. But this whole time, you’ve been… weirdly quiet.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Pulsarette sniffled, “but I really wasn’t in the mood to hear all these stories. Not after the week I had…”
That was enough to get the other Dancers’ complete attention. Hellbite stopped straining against the heroines holding him back from strangling Fantasmique, and even the normally emotionless Omnis seemed deeply concerned. Pulsarette’s masochistic tendencies were the stuff of legend, and for her to be upset by her teammates’ tales of bondage and humiliation seemed completely unthinkable. Just what could have happened to her since they last saw her?
“If only I’d gone after any other villain in the city!” she moaned, pulling Ultimaid close and burying her tear-soaked face in the other heroine’s shoulder. “Professor Medusa, Optica, the Faerie Queene - even that one weird guy dressed like a peanut! Anyone but him…”
-----------
“And so, our duel ends exactly as I said it would from the start: with myself the victor, and you as my captive prize,” Dominion boasted, staring scornfully down at the redheaded beauty who had dared to assault his underground base alone. She had put up an impressive fight; indeed, it was a wonder his throne room was still standing with all the craters they’d left in their wake as they matched blows.
But in the end, there had only ever been one possible outcome. Dominion was conquest incarnate, destined by his very nature to crush those who stood in his path and claim whatever he desired as his own. To think any living being, no matter their strength, could challenge him alone was the height of arrogance - arrogance that carried a steep price.
“Leh mh guh rihhf nah!” the defeated heroine demanded, still willful despite her crushing defeat - something that would soon be corrected. Her wrists and elbows were strapped behind her back with leather belts, imbued with a portion of the strength he’d stolen from her during their battle to make them effectively unbreakable. That same strengthening effect had been applied to the other belts frogtying her legs beneath her, the shackles chaining her ankles to the floor in front of his throne to force her to kneel, the bulky golden collar locked around her neck, and the chain linked to the armrest of his throne.
In addition to the restraints, Dominion taken the liberty of adding some additional “accessories” to his new captive’s bondage to help make her more pliable. An extra-large gilded ring gag was strapped tightly between her jaws, keeping her soft red lips parted as wide as they could go. Her bountiful breasts, exposed to the world after he’d ripped open the top half of her costume, were wrapped tightly at the bases with loops of coarse rope to make them bulge out, and a pair of jingling golden clamps connected loosely by a chain swung from her nipples. A similarly rough rope belt was tied around her waist, connected to a knotted crotch rope that dug into her pussy through the sheer fabric of her costume.
“I’ll give you credit where credit is due,” Dominion said, pacing slowly around her. “For you to have even found this place is no small feat, and you gave me far more of a challenge than I’ve had in a long time. I find myself in the unique position of wanting to reward you for your prowess, even as I know I must punish you for your defiance.”
He bent down and cupped her chin with one hand, forcing her to stare up into the glowing red eye-slits of his helmet. “And so - Pulsarette, was it? Rather than decide whether to reward or punish you, I shall do both. As your reward, I grant you the prestige of being my personal slave, serving me at the foot of my throne as I crush this world’s superheroes and the nations they defend beneath my boots. And as your punishment, I shall personally break your will until you’re submissive and obedient enough to be worthy of your new title.”
“Ah’l nehfr summih tuh yuh!” Pulsarette swore, scowling up at him. There seemed to be something odd about her expression, though. Some sort of glimmer in her eyes he couldn’t quite place.
“I think you’ll find you have no say in the matter,” Dominion growled, releasing her chin and letting her head droop back down. “I have centuries of experience grinding down the wills of unruly slaves until nothing remains but the desire to serve. Until you submit, every waking moment of your existence will be pain. Whips, canes, crops, hot wax - you’ll grow closely acquainted with every implement of torture under the sun, all while bound in strict, unyielding positions that will push you to the limits of your flexibility and endurance.”
“Brhng ht ahn!” she declared, such passionate rebellion in her voice that she almost sounded eager to face the worst tortures devised by generations of conquerors.
“And it goes without saying that I’ll be satisfying myself with your body whenever the mood strikes me during your training,” he leered, savoring her reluctant moans as he reached down and roughly groped her bound, clamped tits with his gloved hands. “In fact, I think I’ll make a point of filling both your mouth and ass with my seed at least twice a day - and only those holes. Only once you’ve submitted yourself to me in body, mind, and soul will I allow you to experience true pleasure.”
“Oh gah yeff - ah meehm, ah’l nehfr gihf hn!” Pulsarette panted, pulling with all her might against the belts confining her voluptuous form, but finding no give. As she struggled, Dominion couldn’t help noticing the crotch of her costume was already completely soaked though despite the short amount of time she’d been wearing the crotch rope. Perhaps increased sensitivity was a side-effect of her powers?
“But first,” he concluded mockingly, placing a hand on Pulsarette’s forehead, “I’m going to finish draining you of the rest of your power.”
“Efhn hf yuh vihllht mh a hunnred tahms, h’ll nehfr - waih, wahh?” she gasped, her eyes widening in true fear for the first time since her defeat.
“Oh, yes, did you think I didn’t notice you were only pretending to be out of energy?” Dominion taunted, draining her strength into himself once more. “It was a clever ploy, but from the moment I laid my hand on you, I could tell you weren’t as helpless as you’ve been pretending to be. You can consider your little surprise attack plan over before it could even begin.”
“Nh, nh, nh, stahh!” Pulsarette begged, clearly realizing just how badly she’d miscalculated now that her ace in the hole had been turned against her. “Yuh duhn wahn tuh dh thff!”
“Yes, yes, YES!” Dominion mocked her, laughing as he felt his already unstoppable might growing by the second. “You will be my greatest tool of conquest! With such immense power at my disposal, those foolish Guardians will be unable to so much as scuff my armor! The world - no, nothing so trivial! All of creation shall belong to -”
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“And that,” Pulsarette finished sullenly, “was when he exploded.”
Seeing the horrified expressions of her friends, she quickly elaborated. “No, not like ‘blood and guts and organs everywhere’ exploded! He just started screaming, and then there was this big blast of energy from his chest that blew up his whole lair! Next thing I know, he’s unconscious and the place is collapsing on top of me! I didn’t have any choice but to break my restraints and carry him out of there before he could get squished!”
She sighed sadly. “After that, the moment was pretty much dead. I dropped him off at a police station - did you know he’s a lot shorter without the armor on, by the way? - and tried to find another supervillain to finish what he started. But no matter who I went after, they all kept running away from me instead of fighting for some reason!”
After a moment of dumbfounded silence, Fantasmique spoke up with a noticeable twitch in her eyelid. “You’re telling us you hunted down arguably the most dangerous supervillain in the entire state, defeated and arrested him by accident, and the reason you’ve been bawling like a baby is because he blue-balled you?”
“I know, right?” Pulsarette pouted. “What kind of villain ties up a sexy superheroine and doesn’t ravish her the first chance he gets? I bet Lady Libertine would’ve spent at least a few hours playing with my helpless body before leaving to go do something evil! I just wish I could’ve found her before it was time to head back home...”
“Speaking of which, we’re supposed to be checking out and on our way to the airport right about now,” Nightfall interjected, checking her watch. “We should get moving; just because I have a majority share in the airline doesn’t mean I’m going to delay a commercial flight so we can stick around here.”
“Not that I’d want to stick around,” Hellbite grumbled. “If I have to choose between two cities that refuse to give me the respect and reverence I deserve, I may as well stick with the one I’m more familiar with.”
“It’s probably better if I don’t stay here any longer than I have to either,” Fortressa said with a shiver. “Apparently some of Snow Angel’s more… devoted fans have been making suggestions online about what they’d like to do if they got ahold of me, and I think I’d rather deal with whatever the Humiliatrix has cooked up since we left.”
“I should go see about fighting Doctor Despoiler again!” Pulsarette said with a smile, her usual chipper attitude gradually returning. “He never ignores me to focus on his evil plans! Mainly because tying me up and doing lewd things to me is usually part of his evil plan…”
“We have a story to brag about on our blog, and some photos of us with Russian Blue and Psychopomp to back it up,” Pestilence smirked. “As far as we’re concerned, our work here is done.”
“Come to think of it, I suppose escaping from under the nose of New Plymouth’s most brilliant criminal mastermind is a feat worth boasting of,” Fantasmique mused, stroking her chin. “A few modifications to the position she bound me in, an assistant to dress as her and tie me up, perhaps a grand finale where the lights flicker and we swap places… yes, that could work marvelously in my next performance!”
“I have no complaints about my vacation,” Omnis added, feeling obliged to share his opinion as well. “I was able to clear my paperwork backlog to my satisfaction, establish connections with the leader of the New Plymouth Guardians, and resolve an outstanding issue I was unaware of until now.”
“See, guys?” Ultimaid chirped, smiling broadly. “I told you all this vacation would be a great idea! We made some new friends, put some criminals behind bars, and best of all, now we’re refreshed and ready to get back to protecting Vista City!”
“And Harken City,” Nightfall bluntly interrupted. “I can only hope Iron Maiden didn’t foul things up too badly while she was covering for me.”
“That too! Come on, everyone, let’s catch that flight back home - and then make some supervillains wish we’d missed it!”
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“As you can see, Mayor Pokhwat, there are simply no other options available to you,” the cloaked man said, the stage lights glinting off the wrought-iron mask covering the upper half of his face as he addressed the camera. “As we speak, the Attracto-Beacon steadily approaches its maximum power output, its tantric engines fueled by the overflowing arousal of the only heroines capable of stopping it! Soon, a meteor storm of biblical proportions will rain down on your beloved Vista City, destroying it utterly!”
“Of course, all this can be avoided if DOCTOR DESPOILER’S meager demands are met. A scant ten billion dollars - which is far less than the cost of rebuilding a major metropolis from the ground up, DOCTOR DESPOILER would like to point out - an anatomically correct golden statue of DOCTOR DESPOILER in front of City Hall measuring no less than twenty feet in height, the cancellation of several clearly fraudulent parking tickets issued by your city’s incompetent police force…”
On the other side of the backdrop behind the mad doctor, Ultimaid, Pulsarette, and Fortressa struggled in vain to escape the insidious devices they were trapped in - well, Ultimaid and Fortressa did, anyway. The three heroines had been stripped naked and suspended spreadeagle inside a trio of spinning metal rings, held in place by magnetically-locking bracelets on their wrists and ankles and gagged with identical green rubber ball gags. Each of them had been equipped with a pair of vibrating eggs on each nipple and a chastity belt with a pair of internally-mounted vibrating dildos, designed to extract the tantric energy of their orgasms and channel it into power for the enormous energy beam firing constantly into the sky between them.
Obviously, knowing that their continued climaxes would sooner or later bring about the destruction of Vista City gave the captive heroines plenty of reason to resist - which was why Doctor Despoiler had taken steps to counteract that resistance. Every time one heroine’s belt registered an orgasm, it would emit a signal that would be picked up by the vibrators worn by the other two, causing them to pick up speed. And between Ultimaid having her entire body wrapped in duct tape aside from her head, chest, and hips, Pulsarette being Pulsarette, and the cocktail of aphrodisiacs Fortressa had been injected with to “keep things fair”, they were quickly dragging each other down into an inescapable chain of climaxes.
“Wuhh.. wuf thah... abuh mahhnng vihlhnns… wihf wh… dihhnn… cahsh… hrr flhht?” Fortressa panted, trying to use her irritation as a focus to keep yet another orgasm at bay.
“Ohh… shuh hp…”
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