DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND IS STRICTLY NON-PROFIT.

Mystique Maiden, Solar Woman, Comet Girl, Ebony Avenger, Crimson Defiler, and L. Rodd "Boss" McSwain are all property of Nightwing316.

Please direct all comments to the-chronicler@hotmail.com

Mystique Maiden:

The Family Business

Chapter 4: McSwain's Revenge

by The Chronicler

Everything happened so fast. For Mystique Maiden, however, time was moving in slow motion. She didn't even hear the helicopter as it lowered to ground level. The only thing she did sense was a brief gleam of metal. It was out of the corner of her eye, and there were certainly more pressing matters at hand. Still, light reflected from an area where it shouldn't have. Nothing should be outside that window but grass and a few trees off in the distance.

She turned her head from the frightening spectacle of what was happening to her friend Chloe, and looked toward the window. It was a black helicopter, and it still wasn't making any noise. A man in a ski mask crouched with something in his hands, something long and cylindrical, the back of it resting on his shoulder. There was a backlash of smoke; it was a weapon and he was firing it at her.

Her stomach felt like it dropped down to her toes. She lost the will to keep up the attack on her friend's rapist. There was no time left. A rocket-powered grenade was coming straight at her. Since he was so near, the blast would surely kill Chief Hamilton too. The horned naked hermaphrodite was leaping out of the crashed skylight overhead, still carrying Isabelle's friend.

"DOME," Maiden bellowed. The Starlight Sceptre she carried was able to turn her thoughts into reality, but it needed a command. It needed her to concentrate the command on the sparkling blue crystal at the tip of the golden sceptre.

A green dome, a half circle, appeared. Inside it stood Maiden and the Chief, who now saw the approaching projectile. He opened his mouth to scream. If he did manage to cry out in terror, the sound was overcome by the immense explosion. Maiden didn't blink; she didn't budge. This was done not out of fear, but according to the strength of her will.

"TWO FOR TRANSPORT," she said quickly. The half circle rose from the floor and became a full circle. It then flew through the opening created by the explosion, carrying Maiden and the Chief. They rounded the corner of the house, and saw an unconscious Solar Woman being hefted into the helicopter. Ebony Avenger was also there, struggling to get to her feet. Holding onto the transport command, Maiden issued another.

"EBONY EYES," she said, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she saw what Ebony saw. There was a some kind of really big gun, with 6 barrels, being aimed at her-which is to say being aimed at the Ebony Avenger. Still holding onto the transport command, she let herself see through her own eyes again. The gatling gun started firing. It tore up the ground in front of Ebony, working its way to her.

"WINDY DAY," she said. An irresistable gust of wind knocked Ebony off her feet. She hit the ground hard. "SHIELD," she said next. A nearly transparent triangular shield covered Ebony's body. The bullets struck against it like a thundering hail storm. "GUNMAN EYES," was the next command. She could now see through the eyes of the man behind the gatling gun. To him it appeared that Ebony was dead. His focus then shifted to the pilot, she saw his finger pointing at the house.

"INTERCEPT," she said grimly. The bubble carrying her and the Chief flew to the front of the house. It lowered until they were directly between the helicopter and the front door. She released the gunman eyes command. The gunman saw her, and smiled.

'This is going to be tricky,' she thought to herself. She saw the smoke backlash as the projectile shot foward. It would be easy to let it collide with the circle that carried her and the Chief. But Ebony was only a few feet away. Maiden grimaced as she felt a piercing, stabbing pain in her temples. Each command required a great deal of focus, not just on what she was doing but also on relaying her thoughts to the Starlight Sceptre. The pain was getting worse. She couldn't hold the protective circle any longer; nor could she erect a shield for Ebony. With no other choice she lowered the circle to the ground and released it.

The rocket-powered grenade was slicing through the air, straight toward her. She had one chance, and there was no margin for error.

"SLIDE," she said. This command constructed a small slide, about 2 feet long and 8 inches wide. It curved into a U shape, with the sides angled outward. At just the precise point the slide and the grenade intersected, so that the projectile shot upwards. Maiden had given the grenade a little nudge, and it sailed harmlessly over their heads. When it was high enough she let go of the slide command and said, "WALL." The grenade rammed into this construct and exploded.

A relieved sigh rushed past her dry red lips and then, seeing the police cars pull up and the copter fly away, she passed out.

"Ugh," grunted Solar Woman, as the Crimson Defiler dropped her. Her eyelids fluttered, but she showed no other sign of regaining consciousness. The concrete floor she had impacted with was cold, hard and unyielding.

The horned, demonic fiend motioned to the several well-armed men in the room. Their eyes shone brightly from behind their black ski masks, and had the same heartless qualities as the concrete floor. They were professionals, mercenaries-for-hire. They placed their various forms of weaponry by their leader--who we will return to later--and made their way to Solar Woman. One of them, his black gloved hands clasping Chloe's drool-enducing 35D's, walked up to the Defiler. He was carrying the teenager's naked and voluptuous form effortlessly. His tight muscles stretched the black fabric on his longsleeve shirt and pants.

"Give her to me, and help the others to bind Solar Woman," the Defiler commanded with a pompous air of superiority.

Boss McSwain flinched at this. What remained of his burnt lips curled into a sneering growl. This was his show. He had recruited this super-powered hermaphrodite to follow his instructions.

"Tie that bitch up. But, and I cannot stress this point enough, do not molest her in any way. These two are mine," the Defiler barked, indicating Solar Woman and her junior partner.

The men in black seemed to have no problem with this. They obeyed without question.

They were all in a large rectangular building with a slightly curved reinforced steel roof. There were two long rows of single beds, with a walkway in between them. The head of each bed was pressed against the concrete walls, and at the foot of each bed there was a locker or trunk.

The Defiler--face to face with Chloe--hugged the tender, glowing, and exposed teen with a flourish of yearning. For whatever reason, she thought of Comet Girl as her real prize. There was something so scrumptious, so lascivious about this brunette. Though she was not nearly as well-endowed as other women the Defiler had taken, she was as soft as butter, delightfully spicy, with a fragrance of purity and innocence. Her loins burned and boiled in anticipation.

Pulling her closer, their nipples began a delicate waltz, spinning and twisting, pushing foward and pulling back. Their tingling, sensitive breasts met and mashed, flesh giving way to flesh. Instantly their areolas darkened from the appetizing relish of sensation. Up and down, around and around, the Defiler guided Chloe's sweltering bosom in a shivering, ecstatic dance of hunger and triumph. Her cold, gold nipple rings provided extra stimulation as they brushed against, and sometimes caught onto, the younger girl's erect little treasures.

"Mmmm, wh..wus..happening," Chloe mumbled. Her head rolled limply on her white and silky shoulders. Her luxurious collar bone called out to the Defiler, 'lick me please'. And so she did, throbbing reptilian tongue seeming to unfold from behind her dark lips. It hung from her gaping mouth for a moment, as they both shuddered and moaned. Saliva dripped from its pointed tip as she prepared to feast on this captured delicacy. Then it was brought down, and dragged across the length of Chloe's delectable collar bone. It left behind an exploratory trail of drool, before then diving to swath the electrifying and irresistible nipples.

"Ohhhh, where..am..I," Chloe stuttered. Her eyelids were gradually unveiling her misty blue eyes. Enraptured staccato pants and gasps rushed past her parted, fluffy lips. She awoke to find herself involuntarily doing these other two things: arching her back so as to thrust foward her perky, tasty breasts into the Defiler's eager mouth; and wrapping her weak and trembling fingers around the white headpiece, that set atop the narrow orange eyes and wanton smirk of a face she knew all too well.

"Welcome back, sweet cakes," the Defiler said as she lifted Chloe by her arms. She was holding her high, like an offering to the gods.

"You," Chloe screamed, with anger and recognition. She balled up her fist, and brought down what would normally be a stunning hammer blow to the top of the Defiler's head. This she immediately followed with a sharp knee thrust to the tall, statuesque woman's sternum. Neither had any effect.

"We were so close before, too close," the Defiler was saying, as she walked casually to one of the beds. "A few more minutes and you would have carried the first of many of my demon seeds."

She gingerly eased Chloe backward onto the bed, while lying on top of her. Both still had on their footwear, but otherwise were completely nude, their bodies blazing with perspiration--desperate for the feast that was to come. Chloe's white tennis shoes, with her cute blue bobby-socks, were kicking and thrashing. The Defiler laid on top of her, pinning the girl with her considerable weight. This left her hands free to lightly caress Chloe's erogenous zones.

"Your partner," the Defiler began, while tracing her fingertips up and down the smooth, shaking arms that were constantly raining punches on her head- "...will be given to our offspring, so that they can grow as powerful as I am. But you," she continued, bending over to whisper into Chloe's ear, while running her fingers through her short brown hair, "will be all mine." She rubbed the head of her foot-long penis against the teen's vaginal lips. The moist, squishing sounds--that resulted from her tracing this monstrous cock length-wise across the shaved slit--comprised a heated overture, to what would become a very long and sweaty symphony.

The men in black, meanwhile, had dumped Solar Woman's buxom, spandex-clad body onto another bed. They retrieved four soft, nylon ropes from the nearby footlocker, and secured her arms and legs to the bed's metal legs. Her dazzling flesh peaked through the many rips on her tight blue leggings and silver bodice. They watched, mesmerized, as her abundant cleavage rose and fell with her steady breathing. Her long, wavy black hair spread out across the pillow before them, like a wide open field on a glorious summer day.

Isabelle Caste awoke like a shot, sitting up in bed and screaming Chloe's name. Her thick, shoulder-length red hair waved to the left and then right, as she looked around for her friend. All she saw was a cramped and rather squalid room. In front of her was an oval mirror atop a small dresser, that reflected her dishevled image. The dresser had various items that could apply makeup: lipstick, blush, eyeliner. These rested on a lacy white cloth that was draped over the top of one of the only three pieces of furniture; the other two were the brass and very comfortable bed, on which Isabelle was resting, and a rickety wooden chair off in the corner.

Her grey-green eyes were wide as dinner plates behind her black eye mask; 40DD breasts heaved and strained her black bikini top, as she fought to slow her breathing. Resting beside her tan supple legs, which were wrapped in black thigh boots, was her Starlight Sceptre. The gold underside of her kneelength cape reflected from the mirror and gave her an almost angelic glow.

She rubbed her temples and groaned. This didn't seem to stop or even have any effect on her pounding headache, so she buried her heart-shaped face in her hands and whimpered a little. Deciding she needed to get control of herself, she shook her head--hoping, in vain, to also shake loose the headache--and then pivoted her sultry, squeezable hips. Her stilleto heels touched the ground tentatively, as if she expected it to explode. When it didn't she rested her hands on her bikini-clad hips and breathed a sigh of relief.

Starlight Sceptre in hand, she crossed the dingy room to get a better look at herself in the mirror. There, amongst the bits of femine makeup, was a note. Atop the note was a small, thin rectangular piece of hard plastic. It looked like the sort of communication device she had seen in spy movies. The note read: "Contact me when you get up." And was signed: "Ebony Avenger".

Moira Jones was having a really bad day. While the makeup crew was clustered around her, preparing her for the 5:30 tv news, one of the cameramen had barged into her dressing room breathless. He said that he had heard from a friend that there was a hostage situation developing at police Chief Hamilton's house. That his young daughter was the one being held.

With a sharp intake of breath, turquoise eyes fighting hard to retain their composure, Moira left the room, jet-black braided hair streaming behind her. She told her incredulous producer--a short, stocky, balding pig of a man who never looked at her without licking his lips--to get a substitute, that she had to go, and mumbled something about an emergency.

She had then been caught in an explosion, shot at--why she wasn't killed was attributed to the sudden appearence of someone whom she initially mistook for an old friend--and had then spent the last two hours interrogating every low life snitch she knew.

None of those informants saw her as the elegant, albeit hip and gorgeous, news reporter. To them she was the deadly champion of the underdogs of Star City, a woman rumored to be faster than lightning. While she did retain her beauty and undeniable charm and charisma, it was altered to fit that of a vigilante, a masked sleek and sexy avenger. They each fell under the spell of her towering, muscular physique, skin the color of the finest fudge--but smooth as a gentle, passing cloud--lips so full and wet, breasts that bounced and jiggled--providing a sultry kind of sign language to her animated interrogations--and her mile long juicy, dark and bare legs.

The cowering, dirty little men would've done anything, said anything if they thought it would make her even the slightest bit happy with them. They so wanted to win her approval, that they rattled off every piece of information they had, but none of it was to her liking. She would toss them aside with disgust and impatience, leaving them lying amidst the strewn trash of Star City's darkest alleyways.

"Ebony, are you there? This is Mystique Maiden," came the welcome voice over the Ebony Avenger's communicator. She breathed an exaggerated and frustrated sigh of relief, and reached into a special compartment on one of her wristbands.

"Yes, are you ok? You've been out for over two hours," she snarled. She released the "talk" button on her communicator and cursed at herself. Normally she was not this terse and rude. When she had regained consciousness at the moment her rescuer had fainted, she realized it was not the Mystique Maiden she knew. This was just a young girl, who was obviously thrust into a life for which she had been little-prepared.

"I'm sorry," Maiden pleaded. "Don't know what's wrong with me. It seems like the more often I use my powers..."

She trailed off into a sad and painful sort of weeping. Something was wrong with her. Ebony had never heard of the former Mystique Maiden having headaches, but maybe she had kept them to herself.

"No, I'm sorry, been a bad day for us both. Stay where you are. I'll be right there."

On the outskirts of Star City, there stood a top secret military base. Beyond it's tall and guarded gates, past a few miles of mine fields, was a long rectangular building. It sometimes served as barracks, but tonight it had an altogether different purpose.

Boss McSwain was having the time of his life. Granted, he had envisioned a much more hands-on scenario. But he still felt his revenge against Solar Woman, and her teenage partner, was proceeding nicely. He kept his horribly burned body hidden in the shadows, watching with rapt attention.

The Crimson Defiler was also having a very good evening. Chloe had already given birth to four demon seeds. These colorful pods, which would hatch a tentacled blob of thriving sexuality, were about twice the size of your standard human baby. Poor Chloe was stretched beyond belief, and this was just the beginning the Defiler told her.

After each one hatched, the horned hermaphrodite would take a few minutes to train them. This gave Chloe a moment to rest, during which time she was wiped clean by one of the men in black, and given some water to drink. The four progeny, after assuming their human forms, were told to watch how it was done. With expert precision the Defiler showed the four dark-skinned women, still in their birthday suits, how to bask in the pleasures of sex.

Finally they were set loose on Solar Woman. They approached her rubbing their hands together greedily and chanting "toy..toy..toy". It was a Defiler kind of X-Mas as they gleefully unwrapped their present. Their sharp fingernails ripped out the crotch of her blue leggings, and yanked down the silver bodice that contained her 42DDs. They clapped their hands and leaned foward to lay claim to the various accessories of this new doll.

As we join the fun, we find Solar Woman has the complete and undivided attention of these newborn demons.

Jessica Armstrong had to fight for every breath she took. It was all she could do just to keep from suffocating. Two of the Defiler's offspring had each immediately grown an astoundingly large penis. As she started to cry out in protest, one of these was plunged into her mouth; while another had worked its way between her legs and penetrated her virtue. To make matters worse the third of these giggling, and sexually ravenous creatures had thrust her tongue into Jessica's already occupied mouth.

So while she was giving a vigorous forced blow job, she was also french kissing a tongue that was licking and stimulating the invasive and thrusting phallus. Her crotch was under a similar two-pronged attack. While the fourth demon hummed a joyous tune, vibrating her lips around Jessica's clitoris, another was fucking the living hell out of her.

The various passionate rhythms the gang bangers established made her feel like a pinball caught in a hurricane. There were clammy grubbing hands all over her breasts, pulling and twisting her nipples. One hand would yank on her hair, pulling her head into a position that they considered more suitable for blowjobs and kisses. Another hand would probe under her bucking globular buttocks, and sweep spiralling circles around her anus.

In preparation of training the offspring that was to be produced by Solar Woman, the Defiler had taken a more relaxed and laid back approach to Chloe. She was sitting on the side of the bed, idly nibbling on one of the exhausted, tamed teen's nipples. Across the room was a show that she did not want to miss, and she watched with bemused satisfaction. One of her hands was squeezing the base of Chloe's breast, forming it into a tower of flesh, on which she lightly licked and chewed. Her other hand, its fingers working like the spindly legs of a spider, walked up and down Chloe's body, pausing to tease and torment each and every erogenous zone.

Poor young Comet Girl had resigned herself to this fate. Indeed, she had come to enjoy the dizzy rapture she felt. It was only a few weeks before that she had her first (conscious) sexual experience at the hands of two perverts [Friends for Life again]. And every night, after being trained by Ebony Avenger, she had stroked and fingered herself to sleep. Orgasm had become her true friend and now it seemed she would dwell in that world of ecstasy forever.

The normally jaded mercenaries-for-hire, dressed in their black outfits, stood transfixed in a state of horror and fascination. They had been all over the world, trained to handle any sight that was presented to them. But this was beyond their ability to understand or accept. They looked to each other, and to their burnt husk of a leader, for guidance. But even Boss McSwain was at a loss for anything to say. He thought he saw a shadow pass between one of the windows and an outside light. This was something he felt should be investigated, but he was rooted to the spot, and could not find his voice.

Jessica paniced as she felt the orgasm building. She tried to suppress it, but there was simply too much simultaneous stimulation going on all over her body. The demon who had fucked her face was withdrawing, and was now kissing and licking her blushing cheeks. This had prompted the one who was french kissing her to grow a penis, which was then shoved into her gasping mouth without hesitation.

The two who were concentrating on her crotch had almost come to violent blows. One wanted the tantalizing vagina all to herself, shouting: "mine...mine...mine." The other, who had been satisfied with occupying her time on Jessica's clitoris, had insisted that her sister share her toys. They finally reached a sort of compromise, in which they began a sword fight inside of her beleaguered pussy.

The double penetration proved to be too much for Solar Woman. While one was thrusting in, the other was sliding out, and so on. They worked her into a frenzy, stretching her vagina, giving constant attention to her G spot and clitoris. She had seen her partner giving birth to these abominations, witnessing her facial expressions of delightful pain. The thought of being fucked for the rest of her days like this finally sent her over the edge.

As the three of them exploded in a violent cataclysm of multiple orgasms, the roof to the barracks shattered. The Defiler's orange eyes shot upward as she leapt to her feet. Support beams came crashing down around the men in black, who braced themselves and raised their weapons. Splinters of wood and chunks of steel and concrete scattered, frightening Solar Woman's rapists--who quickly hid behind and under the beds.

From above, there descended a radiant, blonde haired woman. She was dressed in a white, skin tight bodysuit that conformed to every buxom contour of her incredibly shapely form. Her toes, encased in yellow boots, were pointed in a delicate display of elegance. In the palm of one of her yellow-gloved hands she grasped a shining jewel, which seemed to cleanse a path for her.

What was most impressive, however, was her wingspan. Powerful, forceful white wings were spread out to either side of her shoulder blades. They beat with majesty, and angelic virtue. All those in the room held their breath, taken aback by this gorgeous being of pure white light.

It was during this pause that the door to the barracks was kicked open, flying off its hinges with sudden fury. The demonspawn, cowering a few feet away, looked over their shoulders to see the Ebony Avenger and Mystique Maiden striding purposefully into the room.

For a moment they all judged and assessed each other. And then, with wild howls and battle cries they rushed forward into the tumolt of apocalyptic battle.

To be continued in Chapter 5: All Hell Breaks Loose