The Adventures of the Amazon Avenger - Chapter 2: Chained, Ganged

by Lord Gotwood (lordgotwood@hotmail.com)

The Amazon Avenger stopped at the edge of the Dead Zone and stepped out of the car. Two police cruisers, battered and burned out, marked the border clearly; beyond lay streets disappearing under filth, buildings rotting inside and out, and the worst kind of criminals swaggering in broad daylight.

She glanced over at a couple of hookers leaning against a wall. "You girls know where I can find the Deadriders?"

They stared at her. No one went looking for the Deadriders, the vicious biker gang that owned the Zone. Finally one of them laughed bitterly.

"Girl, you dress like that, they gonna find you," she said. The others laughed. "You best not be sellin’ that on my corner, bitch."

Daria smiled despite herself. Her new costume might be a little more practical than the old one, but it was no less provocative. She wore fingerless black gloves, no longer sheathing her arms to the elbow in sharp chrome spikes. Glossy black combat boots instead of the stiletto-heeled ankle boots she left in the closet. Seamless latex hot pants, out; French-cut strapless black spandex body stocking, in. The same black leather bustier over it, pushing up her flawless natural D-cup breasts and framing them between three straps linked to the Dark Opal’s studded leather choker.

"Not here to compete, honey," she said, handing the hooker a twenty. "Looking for the Deadriders. Know where I could find them?"

"Road Hogs," the hooker said, tucking the money between her breasts. She eyed the Avenger’s more than ample cleavage enviously. "Biker bar, corner of Franklin and Vermont. Two blocks down, take a left. You’ll see it."

"Thanks," Daria said, and climbed into her glossy black Hummer.

"Bitch gonna get fucked up," the hooker said to her friends. "Hardcore."

* * * * *

Daria stopped a block away from the bar. Road Hogs was exactly what she expected. A long, low cinder block building with a corrugated tin roof, surrounded by dozens of choppers. Sooty fires in oil drums cast grim flickering shadows in the parking lot of a long-abandoned strip mall across the street.

If you cross a dive and a dump, and make a shithole they’d both be ashamed of, that shithole would look down on Road Hogs, she thought.

She locked the Hummer and walked up to the door. Deep breath – draw strength from the Opal – and into Road Hogs.

In was worse than out. The air was thick with smoke and sweat. The floor was a disgusting mash of sawdust, spilled beer, and vomit. Cheap speakers blasting hard rock over raucous laughter that turned to hoots and whistles as the Deadriders caught sight of the Amazon Avenger in their doorway.

"Who’s the big dog around here?" she called out.

"We’re all big dogs here, baby," one of them shouted. "You lookin’ for a bone?"

"Cute," she said. "Come on, who’s it? Who’s the man? Not wasting my time with flunkies."

"I’m it," said a voice toward the back. Six and a half feet of red-bearded beer-gutted biker covered in prison tattoos stood up. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I’m the Amazon Avenger," she said. "You get one night to move your gang out of my town. Or else."

"Or else?" Jake snorted. "You better be a good fuck, honey, ‘cause you ain’t good at math. I got fifty of my boys here say we’re stayin’."

A big guy with a shaved head got her in a bear hug and started to lift her off the ground. Daria broke his ribs with her knee and tossed him into the bar like a pillow.

"I can count just fine," she said. "Fifty’s not nearly enough."

"Let’s find out," Jake said. "Get her, boys – you bring her down, you get first ride."

Everyone in the bar rushed her at once. She didn’t wait – she dashed forward, threw her momentum behind a vicious left hook into someone’s gut and shattered the next biker’s jaw with a spinning backfist. Someone broke a pool cue over her forearm; she snatched the fragment from his hand and drove it through his eye.

One of them swept her feet out from under her. The Avenger rolled into her fall, cartwheeled along the wall, and came up behind most of her attackers. She kicked a table onto its side and used it to bulldoze her way through the center of the crowd, smashing several Deadriders against the cinder-block wall. Then she spun around and mowed down another half-dozen using the table as a club.

Something plowed through the table and hammered her gut. The impact rocked her back a step, she dropped the splintered table as another impact drove the breath from her body. Staggering and gasping, the Avenger looked up; Jake had an enormous smoking pistol in each hand.

"Gotta give it to ya," he said. "You’re strong, and you got the moves. But you’re still goin’ down, bitch."

He started emptying his guns into her. The Opal kept the bullets from piercing her, but the combination of heavy slugs, high velocity, and point-blank range made her feel like Mike Tyson’s punching bag. She stumbled backward, tripped over a body, and fell to the ground.

Jake stood over her grinning, both guns aimed at her face. Her eyes were tearing, and she could barely see him past the pain.

"Get her ready, boys. She’s goin’ surfin’."

He fired again. Everything went black.

She came to on her back in the street when one of the Deadriders started pouring a bottle of vodka on her face. They’d pinned her arms to her sides with several turns of heavy steel cable. Jake took the bottle and knocked him down.

"That’s not what I told you, moron," he said. Jake kneeled down beside her head and pinched her nose shut. As the Avenger opened her mouth for air, he crammed the bottle in and forced her to swallow at least half before he let up. A fierce burn rose up in her gut as she struggled to break free.

"That oughta do it," Jake said, tossing away the bottle. "Ready to go for a ride?"

"You can’t hold me like this," she hissed.

"You might be right," he admitted. He slipped a loop of cable over her head and snugged it tight around her neck. "Looks like that cable’s got a little more give than it did. Tell you what – you break loose before we go three laps, we’ll call it even."

Before she could reply, Jake was on his bike and tearing off down the street. The cable around her neck jerked tight – he was dragging her behind him.

Her head swam – the cable cut off her air, and the vodka hit her hard. She struggled to break free, hoping the cable pinning her arms would fray or slip. Jake raced down the street at ninety miles an hour with the Amazon Avenger bouncing and dragging helplessly behind. The rough cracked asphalt tore at her costume, exposing more skin to be scraped raw.

Jake slowed down a little. For an instant she had hope. But it was a turn. At the end of the cable, the Avenger’s helpless body swung wide and slammed hard into a parked car. She should have passed out. But there was only more pain as she tumbled and rolled after her accelerating captor.

Jake made three trips around the block. He slammed her into parked cars, a brick wall, a light pole, and finally a fire hydrant across from Road Hogs. She tumbled to a stop right at the Deadriders’ feet as Jake dismounted and walked over to her.

"Damn, you superbitches are somethin’ else," he said with a grin. "You take all that punishment and not a mark on you. I might just keep you around a while. But we gotta get you cleaned up first. "Bubba, Skullhead, you’re with me."

He unwound the cable that pinned her arms. By now the Avenger was too battered, dazed, and drunk to resist. He stripped what remained of her costume, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her off as the rest of the gang cheered.

The fire hydrant she’d smashed with her head on the last lap sprayed water fifty feet in the air. Jake carried her across the street and through the falling water right to the hydrant. He got her in a bear hug with her back against his chest while Bubba and Skullhead grabbed her ankles and forced her into the splits. The Avenger moaned, knowing what would come next but helpless to fight it.

Jake released his bear hug so that her weight was on her fully extended legs. He slid one hand under her choker, pinned her wrists behind her, and pushed her over the cold high pressure geyser.

The water blasted her mercilessly. Her heavy breasts bounced in the brutal torrent. The Avenger tried to get away, tried to bring her legs together to protect her fiercely battered sex, but the three Deadriders held her immobilized. She wanted to go numb, pass out, die – anything to escape this torture. But it went on.

"Clean enough, boys – let ‘er go," Jake said. All three released her at once, and she fell to the ground. She vomited on the wet sidewalk and lay there gasping. Jake shoved her face and breasts in the water one more time to rinse her off before dragging her away by her choker.

The Avenger struggled weakly, but Jake dropped her in the middle of the street and kicked her in the gut.

"Gimme four long chains," he ordered, looking down at his prisoner with an evil grin. "I got an idea."

While the Deadriders rushed to comply, Jake squatted down beside the Avenger. He looked her over with obvious appreciation, running his hand up her side from her thigh to her breast.

"You are one fine piece of ass," he whispered hoarsely. "We’re gonna ride you long and hard."

He wrapped chains several times around each wrist and ankle before securing them with heavy padlocks. Then he had his men pull each chain tight and tie it to a lamppost, suspending the Amazon Avenger spread-eagled above the street at about waist-height. The tension on her exhausted limbs was nearly unbearable.

Jake grinned at her from between her legs as he opened his fly. "Always wanted to have a flying fuck," he said. The other Deadriders whooped and cheered him on.

He grabbed her hips and drove his thick erection into her with a shout. The Avenger screamed in pain and outrage, but Jake only laughed as he started pumping her with all his strength. His rough meaty hands squeezed her raw, battered breasts like sponges as he drove his prick harder and harder into her painfully sore pussy. She felt herself slipping away, and did not fight.

The next few hours were a haze of darkness, pain, and degradation. At some point they took the Avenger down and put her on a filthy mattress in the alley. She was assaulted by as many men at a time as could find something they wanted to do to her. They were on top of her, under her, all around her: probing, prodding, groping, stroking.

Dawn came. Her mind reeled, slipping in and out of lucidity even as her invulnerable, inexhaustible body suffered brutal abuse. But she could feel her strength beginning to return as the alcohol wore off.

Most of the Deadriders were too tired even to watch anymore. But not Jake. He hauled one of them off her before he could finish and stood over her leering.

"You’ve been a hell of a ride, little lady," he sneered. "I’m gonna take one more ride before I put you away. Fuck me right and maybe I won’t lock you in the dumpster all day with the rats and trash. You got it?"

She nodded. Jake grinned, unzipped, and pounced. She wrapped her legs tight around his waist as they kissed, his hands taking all they could from her breasts, hips, and thighs, She ran her fingers through his hair, sliding her hands under his leather vest to touch his chest and back.

The tip of his cock teased her. She felt him giving into the fantasy; the bitch is into me! She could feel her strength again.

No time like now, the Avenger thought. She pushed him back enough to get her legs between them, then straightened her legs with blinding speed. The only thing that stopped Jake’s flight was the wall of Road Hogs. A couple of the Deadriders rushed her, but she’d already rolled to her feet and snatched up the mattress. She swatted the exhausted bikers with it, and they stayed down.

"Love a good pillow fight," she said hoarsely.

A shot tore through the mattress into her left shoulder, spinning her around. Jake could barely stand, but he had his guns out and aimed at her again.

"Not again," she groaned. A second shot grazed her hip as she dove behind a dumpster.

"You’re mine, cunt," Jake roared. "You’re mine."

He fired again as she dashed into the street, but his reflexes were no match for her superhuman speed. The Avenger made a crude but devastating flail from the chains they’d used for their "flying fuck". The instrument of her pain and humiliation now became an awesome weapon – thirty feet of heavy steel powered by rage and superhuman strength. She mowed down the Deathriders without hesitation or mercy.

The Amazon Avenger wiped them out in seconds. With tremendous effort Jake steadied himself and took aim with both guns at once. He leered at her spectacular body, now splattered with gore.

"Finish it," he bellowed. "I did you before, and I’d-"

The terrible flail flashed. Jake’s head vanished in a spray of blood and shattered bone.

"You won’t," she said.