"Incominnggggg!" one of them yelled, and they all scattered.

Leaving the stunned and whipped Scarlet Dragon sprawled on the wet grass, right in the oncoming juggernaut’s path!

"Shit!" Fury thought. The Chain Gang was the first thing she’d seen when she finally managed to roll the crushing mass of the tree off her aching back (her boulderous boobs throbbed horribly from being smashed beneath her), and after the way they’d humiliated her the last time (not the first but one of the worst) that was all she needed.

She hadn’t even thought about ….

"Shit!" she said aloud, and squatted down for about the biggest leap she could manage at this point, on legs that felt like overcooked pasta. It carried her over the rolling tree trunk to the sumptuously sprawled Scarlet Dragon, but when she landed those magnificent thighbooted gams buckled and she stumbled to her knees.

Right in the path of the oncoming tree!

Normally she could’ve shot-putted that steamroller half a mile, but between all the drinking, all the fucking (both kinds), the gas and the constant battering by the tree, this was a long way from normally.

At that moment Dragon stirred and opened her eyes. "Wha— Fury?"

Only to have her whole head buried once again in 20 pounds of titfat as Savage Fury threw herself onto the prone powergirl.

That was when the enormous tree trunk hit them like a wooden tidal wave crushing both superheroines beneath its multi-ton mass and literally driving them into the soft ground. It rumbled on another few yards then came to a halt against one of its vertical brethren.

For a moment the only sound in the clearing were a few birds and some moans from a crater filled with half-buried scantily-costumed pulchritude. Then another sound drowned out the birds:

Applause.

A few whistles.

And the Chain Gang came forth—cautiously at first then, when the two fabulous female forms didn’t move in their muddy crater, more boldly. The applause swelled.

"Encore! Encore!"

"Now that," Chain Gang 1 grinned, "is what I call taking care of business."

"Let she who is without sin cast the first tree," Gang 3 quipped.

"Totally inappropriate," critiqued CG4. "No Biblical context here at all."

"I am open to suggestions."

Debating the fine points, they gathered around the stunned superheroines.

"Damned nice of Fury to bring along a friend this time."

"She’s always been considerate."

CG1 sighed. "Well, let’s get to it."

"Oh yes, let’s do!" the rest chimed in eagerly. A few were jumping up and down in joyous anticipation.

CG1 wound Savage Fury’s scarlet ponytail around his fist. "Up you get, darlin’." He lifted the double-dirigibled dynamo from the crater by her hair, a groan sluicing through clenched teeth.

"Nice teeth," CG3 commented, and smashed a chain-wrapped fist across the Savage Sensation’s jaw that sent her flying back with a grunt to skid over the grass and fetch up against the trunk of the fallen tree. The crack her cowled head made against the wood sounded like a gunshot.

Four of the Gang went after her while the rest gathered around Scarlet Dragon at their feet. CG1 reached down and hoisted her up by one mammoth milkbag, stretching it out over a foot and wrenching a squeal of agony from the dazed Dragon. Which squeal rose an octave when CG1 squeezed her gigantic jug till his brutal fingers disappeared in all its doughy boobfat.

He held the overblown Oriental up, hanging from that titanic distended udder, to present his beautiful mega-busty and battered trophy for the crowd’s approval like the catch of the day.

"Wonderful!"

"A masterpiece!"

"Needs blood."

By her bangs CG1 turned the Oriental bombshell to inspect her slack masked visage. "Think so? Wouldn’t that mar the basic purity of the concept?"

"You’re right," CG1 said.

He jerked the moaning Mammazon up, chin and lips now covered with blood.

"Now that’s art!" Polite but sincere applause.

"Okay guys," CG1 said. "Time to earn our pay."

Their cheers filled the clearing.

And was hauled back once more, wailing in frustration and rage (which bought another explosion of electricity that clashed her teeth and bit her tongue), spun around in a big circle tottering on her 6-inch spikes to the accompaniment of rodeo-style hoots and cheers from the Chain Gang

Finally slammed into the soft boulderous bumpers of another super-statuesque body that had likewise been thrown into hers. Obviously after being caromed off her own set of trees, from the blackened eye behind the mask and sundry other bruises. Their two pairs of chest-pumpkins meshed doughily.

"Dragon!" she grunted.

"Fury! What the fuck—"

"Ah ah girls," CG1 said, "No hen parties. You are after all cows."

As though to underline his statement, he lashed out a chain that wrapped around the dazed Amazons’ enmeshed jiggling enormities from their sides and bound the stupendous superheroines face-to-face by those titanic tits. Before they could do more than react in shock, one of the Gangers stepped up behind Fury and brought his leg up between her boot-sheathed limps. Both awesome-bodied Amazons screamed as his knee smashed into Fury’s still-sensitive cunt and his toe burrowed into Dragon’s gaping snatch!

"A double!" CG1 yelled, and a cheer went up from all around. "I told you guys some soccer training would come in handy."

Tears leaking from under her mask, Fury worked at the chains binding her gloved wrists but they were just as unbreakable as before. Dragon was worse off—between straining at her own chains and trying like hell not to burst into tears, she looked like a little girl with a magnificent mammoth-titted body.

Suddenly half a dozen chains lashed Fury’s lavish bare buttcheeks from all angles, startling a shrill wide-eyed squeal from the Cowled Crusader that brought merry laughter from the assemblage.

"Let’s have ‘em sing a duet!" a Ganger yelled, and more chains sang out to whip Scarlet Dragon’s awesome tight-toned ass, eliciting a howl of indignant pain from that scantclad superwoman.

"Aw, her ass isn’t any fun," another complained. "Doesn’t quiver and quake like Fury’s fat can."

"Bet her hole’s tighter though," CG1 said.

"Hey, mine’s still plenty tight!" Fury snapped angrily. "No thanks to you creeps!"

The general hilarity was instant and explosive. Within moments tears were spilling down cheeks from under helmets and some had to lean on others for support.

Fury added indignantly: "Well, it is!"

Several rolled about on the ground, helpless, redfaced from trying to catch a breath. It was hard to tell whether they were laughing or crying.

All Dragon could do was glare furiously at her.

"What??" Fury demanded.

"Pepsi challenge!" one managed to choke out between gales of mirth, and the cry was taken up by those that could still speak coherently. Hiccups had rendered many of the Gang unintelligible. They’d even lost their erections (a world-class FIRST when fighting this toothsome twosome).

All but two of the Gang, that is—CG1 and CG3. Not even smiling—well, CG1 wore a big ugly sneer of contempt—they moved up behind the helpless tit-bound superbeauties, pressing buttons on wrist-panels that opened the crotches of their armor allowing enormous erections to spring out.

Dragon glared at Fury like this was all her fault.

The two scumbags smiled at each other.

Fury leaned close to her pissed-off partner and whispered "Lift your legs."

"Wha—?" Dragon started to say, when the Cowled Crusader suddenly leaned back from the waist yanking the Asian Amazon into the air with a startled cry both of surprise and pain (since she was being jerked up by her awesome chain-wrapped mega-melons). But she caught on instantly and as her powerful thighbooted legs swung up kicked out them behind her, slamming into CG1’s chest and hurling him back.

And while CG3 gawked in surprise, Fury spun Dragon around (both boulder-busted bombshells clenching their teeth in agony). Her flailing spikeheels took him upside the head, laying him out in the cold wet grass.

"Goddammit!" CG1 yelled, trying to get to his feet and dropping to his knees. "One of you morons GRAB THE TIT-CHAINS!"

Which lay on the ground, dropped then forgotten amid all the laughter.

Several Gangers scrambled for the fallen links but they were out of breath and weak. Fury and Dragon squatted together.

"This’s gonna hurt," the Asian supergirl muttered.

"Less than staying," Fury said.

"I’m just glad you’re not as dumb as you look."

As CG4 lunged for one of the chains, the two titan-titted goddesses leaped up and jerked it from his trembling hand. They hurtled skyward like tandem missiles, the rising sun gleaming off smooth opulent bodies and the chains that still bound their gigantic boobs between them and gloved wrists at those incredible asses.

"NOOOOOOOOO!!" he bellowed, and raised supplicating fists to the uncaring dawn.

"No more ‘Simpsons’ for you, Art," CG1 growled.

"Okay, ready?"

"Godddd yes! Hurrryyyyyyyyyyyy …."

Unable to break the chains binding their gloved wrists, the mega-bodacious bombshells finally managed to free their massive enchained and aching mammaries by the simple—and incredibly painful—expedient of backing away from each other and pulling those stupendous soft milkbags through the chain loops that bound them together. At roughly three feet apart, the two monstrous pairs of chain-wrapped pontoons strreeetttched out like stupendous sausages through the nooses. The gorgeous glamazons’ teeth were fused together in a single grimace of agony and sweat beaded their straining masked faces,.

"I … dunno about … yours," Dragon gritted, her words blurred by pain, "but mine … are about to … come off."

"Use your chi!" Fury grunted. "Keep … pulling …."

Dragon was already funneling most of her chi into her boulderous distended boobs—damn things were so big they took almost all she’d managed to recover. The "flight" over the forest had been bad enough but the crash had hurt more than any beating her gigantic jugs had ever had to endure—and that covered a lot of territory!

And now THIS …!

The monstrously stretched jellobags were strained deepest red by now and slick with sweat. "Just … a little …." Fury lifted a thighbooted leg and jammed its knee into Dragon’s rigid gut

But that had left them with the problem of the unbreakable bonds at their gloved wrists.

So now, the sun well up and both heroines more or less restored to full power, they stood back to back and set themselves for one great effort. If Fury couldn’t break her chains, Dragon knew she had no chance at all. But working together on one set at a time ….

Fury was on her back with her boot-sheathed legs drawn up as far as they could go—and with Dragon’s help a little farther; as big as she was, the Cowled Crusader wasn’t especially limber. Together, they’d managed to position her feet against the chains wrapped around her hands. Fury’s knees were jammed so hard against her ribcage that she couldn’t breathe and her meaty shoulders felt like they were about to be pulled from their sockets and she knew she couldn’t keep this pressure up for long.

"Better … do it … now!" Fury’s muscular legs, built for power instead of flexibility, were starting to cramp.

"Okay … NOW!"

Fury pushed with her mighty legs and Dragon pulled with her chained hands and for a moment the links resisted even that incredible force.

As one: "NNNGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!"

Then one of the links stretched—just a bit—Dragon found another bit of chi hiding in a dark corner—Fury pushed and pushed till the muscles of her mighty legs seemed about to burst through their skin—

SPRUNGGG!

Fury’s legs shot out straight into Scarlet Dragon’s big bare ass sending her slamming into a tree with a surprised squawk. Her head and broad shoulders smashed through the yard-thick trunk and, teetering, the 60 foot oak began to topple onto her. The Cowled Crusader saw her partner’s danger and lunged at the tree as it shifted onto Dragon’s back. She hit it like a linebacker and sent it tumbling the other way with a mighty crash.

After that it was just a matter of unwinding the chain about the Asian Avenger’s gloved wrists—they weren’t self-tightening like some the Chain Gang used.

"Thanks," Dragon murmured, dreamily using her freed hands to massage her aching chest-mountains. "But isn’t this where we came in?"

"I still don’t get it," Fury said back in Silk Stalker’s office.

"What’s to get?" Scarlet Dragon asked, yawning. "They’re the Chain Gang. They attacked us. It’s what they do."

"Yeah, but they said they were being paid. By who?"

"By whoever! Does it matter?"

"Well, yeah. It might’ve been the same bunch that hired that chopper pilot."

"Both were kinda out-of-the-blue, alright. When’s Silk getting back?"

"A few more days, I think."

"Let’s hold tight till then and let her look into it."

Fury was almost relieved to hear Dragon say that. It meant it was okay for her to concentrate on more immediate concerns. If her ponderous-pontooned partner had wanted to look into it right away she’d have had to go along, and maybe screwed everything up by being distracted.

"So, ah, what say we finish what we started in the limo?" Dragon suggested ever-so-casually (but a shiver ran up her scantclad super-statuesque body and her big teats poked out against her top). "I could sure use some relaxation."

"N-no, I’d better not." It was a decision she would later regret, like so many that seemed right at the time. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel like it, see, or that she wasn’t attracted to Scarlet Dragon (quite the opposite!). The Masked Mammazon just didn’t think she deserved the pleasure (ignoring the guilt that would follow), or that she could enjoy it with What She Had To Do Next hanging over her head.

Talk about guilt!

Scarlet Dragon watched the Thighbooted Thunderbolt leap away into the early morning. She knew Walt was out on one of those sales trips he took and she hoped that he’d be gone long enough for Fury to think it over before he got back. Trouble was, she had the feeling that wasn’t the only decision her oh-so-upright (and uptight, for all her beauty and incredible body and the way she flaunted it and had it abused and violated) partner had arrived at.

-10-

Savage Fury waited nervously in the mansion’s foyer. You'd never have guessed a reasonably wild bash had ended here just a few hours ago. It was barely past noon and the place was already spotlessly clean again.

She took a deep calming breath that lifted her gigantic strapped tits like helium-filled blimps and didn’t calm her one bit. Wished she’d worn the cloak but had been in too much of a hurry to stop back at Silk’s office to pick it up.

The Amazon Avenger wished even more that she’d lingered a bit with Scarlet Dragon. She couldn’t stop trembling as she waited, and it wasn’t nerves. Her pussy felt swollen and hot and her gigantic breasts weighed a ton each and sometimes she had to clasp her hands behind her to keep from touching it or them. She knew where that would lead, even here in this lavish mansion. Her entire superbody felt like one awesomely overblown erogenous zone.

Wasn’t that butler taking an awful long time to fetch Jennifer Hard?

But he suuure was taking his sweet li’l ol’ time.

Fury shifted from foot to spikeheeled foot, heard herself humming, stopped. She clasped her armgloved hands behind her, felt the warm leather against her naked ass. Resisted the urge to ease the strap between those lavish soft cheeks. It tended to chafe whenever she was nervous

(and horny.)

She resisted the damn-near-overwhelming urge to just get the hell out of there. Did her costume still smell of all that sex? She’d cleaned the leather thoroughly before leaving the house—didn’t want to confront the wife of the man who’d fucked her brains out smelling like it.

Fury yawned. Wished along with everything else that she’d at least taken a nap or something, but this whole crazy affair (well, not quite—at least, not yet) had bothered her too much. And sleep simply had not been an option once she’d decided to fess up to Jennifer Hard.

What was worse, she didn’t have the faintest idea of what she would say. Had rehearsed speeches all the way over here and rejected them all. At least the 60 mph run in the cool morning had cleared her mind a bit, though it hadn’t helped that Other Problem at all.

Come striding regally down the spiral staircase like a queen, dressed in gleaming powder-blue lycra workout togs that displayed without flaunting every spectacular totally-toned and tight inch of her world-famous figure.

The term "supermodel" had been coined for Jennifer Jordan before her marriage to Jonathan Hard, and 10 years later she was still one of the world’s most beautiful women. Her line of workout tapes would have made her mega-rich even without her husband’s billions.

Watching the gorgeous blonde approach, moving sinuously and easily like a panther, Savage Fury couldn’t help but admire Jennifer’s arms and shoulders, left bare by the skintight suit. Her latest tapes were about women pumping iron, and those tan lithe-muscled limbs showed it. Nut-brown, powerful yet feminine, they rippled with trim tight sinew, and the broad muscular shoulders perfectly set off big solid double-D jugs that strained against the sheer lycra. Last night she’d been spectacular in a strapless gown.

Despite her nervousness (or maybe because of it) Savage Fury felt herself moisten and her pussylips soften even more. She prayed they’d stay inside their scant concealment, and not simply swell up and swallow her V-bottom as they had a way of doing at the worst possible moments.

This was going to be hard enough without all that.

"Savage Fury, what a pleasant surprise," the blonde beauty said in the well-modulated finishing school voice that had egged Paige Powers on through so many sweaty workouts before the VCR and TV. "I love surprises."

Jennifer was toweling the golden mane that had been her trademark before she went to work on her body. She gleamed with sweat and that musk (with everything else) made Fury lick her lips. The sweet-sour taste of Scarlet Dragon’s pussy was still on them, despite a liberal use of toothpaste and brush.

Jennifer held out a slim exquisitely-manicured hand. Each lustrous nail had a tiny diamond embedded in it. "Excuse my mess, I’ve been working off last night’s champagne and caviar."

Up close and barefoot, the ex-model was a full head below The Cowled Crusader. It was the long long legs and short waist that made her look taller. But next to this svelte elegant bombshell Fury felt oafish and overblown, like the flashy oversexed megaslut her foes were always calling her.

Acutely conscious of the enormous chest-pumpkins swaying at her hostess’s chin, Fury took the proffered fingers. She could feel their strength and heat right through her glove.

Holding that leatherclad hand (Fury let her), Jennifer led the super-statuesque super-bombshell into one of the mansion’s numerous salons, where museum quality furniture was scattered about in small conversation groups. Sunlight flooded the room from a wall of windows. Fury remembered 69ing with Jonathan in this room just a few hours before: his magnificent cock filling her mouth, his tongue striking sparks deep in her cunt as his hands milked the monstrous tits that engulfed his waist.

Without any thought of wives or husbands or anything ….

They sat. Later, the details of what came next were hazy—up to a point. A maid brought some kind of fruit-energy drink and the Thighbooted Thunderbolt managed to get some down despite the tightening in her throat and stomach. They made small talk and Fury thanked Jennifer for the great party and Jennifer said it was nothing, she loved to throw big bashes, and so on and so on, blah blah blah.

All the titan-titted superheroine remembered specifically was the way the blonde goddess’s sweat-soaked bodysuit clung to her nipples and heavy cuntlips and outlined the furrow between them.

The point at which everything leaped into focus was during a moment of silence when Fury took a deep breath and said, "Your husband and I made love last night after the party. There’s no excuse except that I wanted to which isn’t any excuse at all and it was a horrid way to thank you for your kindness and I’m very, very sorry."

Jennifer Hard was silent for what felt like forever. And still—very very still. The only sound was the pounding of Savage Fury’s heart in her ears.

"I see," the trimly muscular knockout finally said in a carefully level voice. "Here. In this house. Last night."

"Well, actually, it was more like this morning …." God that was lame!

"I see." The finely modeled face had gone white and rigid with—what? Rage? Humiliation? Both and more, probably. The small perfect hands on her lap curled into trembling fists, clenched so tightly the cords stood out on their wrists.

"I really am sorry," Fury repeated in a small voice. It didn’t sound any better the second time.

She fervently wished the gorgeous blonde would say something like, "I appreciate your coming here like this, woman to woman." Or, "I can’t say I blame you, he is an extraordinarily attractive man. That wonderful dick of his is hard to resist."

But this wasn’t some silly romantic fantasy, and it was woman to woman. She wondered what a high-class socialite like Jennifer Hard did in situations like this. Divorce? Separation? Take a lover of her own? Maybe she already had …

The worst thing, the ponderous-pontooned paladin thought, would be if she showed her breeding by just swallowing it bravely and moving on, and leave Fury’s punishment to her own relentless conscience.

Till she saw the tears that had begun to trickle down the beautiful blonde’s cheeks.

As frazzled and edged-out as she was from residual horniness and left-over aches from the action earlier that morning and lack of sleep and guilt and tension and just everything, Savage Fury felt sympathetic tears well up in her own masked eyes. Impulsively, she moved to the divan next to the quietly weeping woman. When Jennifer didn’t slide away, Fury put a shoulder-gloved arm around her broad trim-muscled shoulders and pulled her close. She resisted at first, but The Cowled Crusader was much too strong—and then the tall elegant heartbroken blonde just melted against her, sobbing openly now. Like a little girl, she pillowed her head on one of Fury’s gigantic soft chest-pumpkins and cried. Her golden mane’s steamy fragrance filled the Savage Sensation’s nostrils.

She felt her nipples harden and saw them extend, till they pointed through the narrow straps like fingers. And her pussy blossomed all around its scant V-bottom like an opulent pink flower.

It took her a moment to realize Jennifer was saying something amidst her sobs—and it was a real effort to focus on the broken words as they poured forth.

"It—it’s so hard sometimes! We’re supposed to, to have this perfect marriage, that’s what everyone th-thinks, but—but I’m just a, a showpiece for him!"

Fury stroked the fine blonde hair. "It’s all right," she murmured, shivering, squirming a little and fighting the need to reach down between her legs. "I’m so sorry."

"Oh, it isn’t y-your fault, it’s mine, I can’t g-give him what he wants, what he needs."

"What do you—"

The gorgeous workout queen answered the question before Fury could finish it. She reached down between the awesome-bodied Amazon’s thighbooted legs to cup her swollen wet cunt! Fury stiffened with a sharp intake of breath, then groaned when two manicured fingers slid all the way to the webbing between those distended fucklips.

As she began to gently finger-fuck the astonished Savage Fury, Jennifer Hard turned moist appealing (in both senses of the word) eyes up to her. Lush wet lips parted, tongue poised at her perfect teeth. Totally still, except for those pussy-probing fingers—and then a sister. A fourth digit joined them, sloshing around in Fury’s snatch like kids in a swimming pool, and a thumb began to massage a pearl of a clit that was stiff as a diving board,

And the dam gates broke.

The Thighbooted Thunderbolt’s lusting mouth dove down to meet Jennifer’s rising up. The two women kissed open-mouthed, their tongues touching, twining—

and then the gorgeous socialite squeaked into Fury’s passionately grinding mouth and jerked back.

"I’m sorry," Fury gasped, concerned, "did I hurt you? Oh, Christ—"

Jennifer put a hasty hand over her mouth. "No, no it’s all right, I just—didn’t expect you to be so strong."

"It’s great for super-villains, but it sucks with lovers."

"I like it." In a husky Mae West accent: "Treat me rough, you big strong bitch."

With a mock growl, Savage Fury glommed onto Jennifer’s eager upturned mouth again, their tongues wrestling wetly. The hand that wasn’t trying to plunge bodily into the boulder-busted bombshell’s gaping boiling pussy sank into voluminous tit-flesh. One of Fury’s armgloved hands tore away the bottom of the moaning blonde goddess’s workout suit and found her clit easily—the size and hardness of a marble!

"Ohhhh GODDDDD!" Jennifer Hard groaned, squeezing up great blubbery rolls of the super-Mammazon’s immense breast.

"You can fuck me if you like," Fury panted, amazed at her own words and even more amazed at her need.

She flashed a feverish smile.

"Let’s hit the workout room." Jennifer got to her feet, held out a hand that Savage Fury took eagerly as she stood. Hot flashes were hitting her like lightning bolts. "It’ll be better down there anyway. There’re all kinds of toys to play with."

Gazing up at the towering titan-titted superwoman, Jennifer flicked her warm tongue over a swollen sensitive nipple. A shiver rocketed from Fury’s spikeheels to her scarlet ponytail.

"I’ve always been a sucker for boobs bigger than my head," the muscular blonde murmured.

"What about—"

"He won’t care." Almost a sneer: "He never goes there anyway."

-11-

"See? I (unnhhh!!) told you it would (oooooo!!) fit."

"I take it this isn’t your first dildo enema."

"Oh (aaaaa!) no. Some of the dicks I’ve taken back there were even b-b-bigger!"

The two bombshells were in the middle of a full-sized boxing ring which dominated one of many "workout rooms" that were part of a full complex extending a couple of levels below the mansion. Paige Powers worked out constantly—with elephantine boobs like hers she had to, just to keep them from sagging to her knees or ruining her back—but this place went way beyond the best-equipped professional gym she’d ever been in.

Jennifer knelt behind Savage Fury, the jelly-coated strap-on buried to the hilt between her great upturned buttcheeks. On all fours, Fury strained a shuddering groan of pure lust through clenched teeth as the golden goddess pushed the awesome appliance further into her bowels.

"OHGODDDD, I’m CUMMING ALREADYYY!!"

As juices gushed down Fury’s brawny loins into the tops of her thighboots, Jennifer pulled the hogleg from the ponderous-pontooned paladin’s gapingly stretched asshole.

"No … no, it’s alright," she gasped, "there’s plenty more where that came from."

"I’m surprised Jonathan didn’t satisfy you better," Jennifer remarked.

"Oh, it—it wasn’t that, I’ll explain later. Now my pussy."

Teasingly: "You’re sure?"

"Hurryyyyy!"

With a smile, Jennifer gripped the enormous dildo strapped to her waist. "Raise this magnificent ass of yours a little, darling. And spread your cheeks."

Moaning and squirming with the uncontrollable urgency of her need, Fury reached back to splay gloved fingers over her lavish bare netherpillows and separate them. Another orgasm gouted forth when the great appliance’s tennis ball-sized head just touched her slack slopping pussylips. A puddle was forming at her leather-sheathed knees.

"Nnnnnnggghhh!"

"My, you are hot!"

"One of the … things about being a superwoman is … you get super turned-on sometimes. Come on, ram it in me!"

The huge hogleg poked between the Savage Sensation’s lust-bloated labia, slid in maybe an inch. More hot juice dripped to the floor.

"More! All the way!"

"Say ‘please’."

"Please! Ogod pleeease!"

So the blonde fitness queen rammed the great horn all the way home, sheathed it to the hilt in Fury’s squelching snatch. Fury threw her cowled head back and wailed.

"I can’t believe you took the whole thing," Jennifer marveled, staring down at the 4-inch thick cum-smeared dildo projecting from the Thighbooted Thunderbolt’s gaping gash.

"Believe me," Fury gasped, "Try 2 or 3 the, the same size. Pounded in with hammers!"

"Wow." Jennifer licked her lips.

"Now fuck me! Fuck me harddd!"

"My pleasure." As powerfully as she could, the muscular blonde began to pump her massive member into the ponderous-pontooned paladin’s sloshing cunt. No slow build-up, no sensual probing, just a sledgehammer pussy-pounding that would have ruptured a normal woman. She slammed the gigantic joint in as far as it would go and hauled it out and plunged it in again, each battering stroke drawing forth more femoil as though it was a pump. The pool of cum at Fury’s thighbooted knees was becoming a lake.

Fucked and punished, pleasured and pained at the same time, Savage Fury loved it. One small part of her mind wondered how getting banged by the wife made up for being banged by the husband, but the rest just went with the banging.

She wanted to be humiliated, she needed to be shamed, it was what she deserved, it would cleanse and purify her to be degraded by the woman she had wronged ….

Slumped to leather-sheathed elbows with her cowled head between her fists, the stupendous superbombshell made sounds into the floor that were half-grunt, half-squeal. A puddle of drool spread around her slack passion-twisted mouth over the ring’s floor. Gargantuan milkbags spread vastly beneath her till Jennifer, grunting almost as passionately as Fury with her dildo-hammering effort, grabbed ahold of them and lifted them out to her sides like watermelon-sized waterwings.

"Oh God yes …. Hurt my tits! …. OGodyesss …."

"What the fuck??"

It took a moment for the two lustily engrossed women to register the startled voice, another to look up.

Jonathan Hard stood at ringside staring, both hands clenched on the ropes. Savage Fury gasped in shock and involuntarily tightened her vaginal muscles—crushing the deeply-buried dildo to pulp.

Jennifer Hard, grinning triumphantly at her husband, didn’t notice at first.

"Jesus Christ," he said. To the Cowled Crusader: "You told her, didn’t you? You fucking told her!"

In a singsong voice his wife taunted, "Anyone you can fuck, I can fuck better—I can fuck anyone better than you." She pulled the crushed dildo out of Fury’s snatch and stood. So excited she didn’t notice its condition.

On all fours all but lost in her own daze of sex and humiliation, Fury shivered. She was still so turned-on it was hard to focus. "I’m, I’m sorry Jonathan, I had to, see it was—"

He leaped the ropes and in two strides was upon her, kicking her beautiful cowled face. She yelped, more in surprise than pain, and scrambled to her feet.

Fury was astonished to hear Jennifer snort, "Don’t try to make up for it now. You know how I feel about her and this whole ludicrous thing!"

"Hon—" He turned to her.

"I don’t know what hurts more: you fucking this elephant-uddered bimbo in my own house …."

"Jen—"

"Now wait a minute," Fury began.

The gorgeous blonde stuck her face right in her husband’s. "… Or that you didn’t tell me so I could watch!"

Savage Fury blinked. "What?"

-12-

Jonathan spread placating hands. "Look, babe—"

"We won’t even go into not letting me join in!" Jennifer turned away petulantly, sinewy arms folded under her big solid boobs.

"I didn’t think you'd want to, darling! Why do you think I arranged—you know."

"Oh, so the Jap bitch was just a consolation prize, huh?"

"Now wait a darned minute—" But the Cowled Crusader, still shaky on her spikeheeled feet (and still ragingly horny), couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Jonathan gave his wife a measuring look. "You seemed to enjoy yourself. Both times."

"Not last night, I was busy." An impersonal nod towards the thoroughly flustered Thighbooted Thunderbolt. "What do you think I’ve been doing this morning while you worked out? Watching the tapes."

"You have?" Suddenly coy, Jennifer made a moue. "Did you enjoy them? How was I?"

"You were magnificent, as always! No one sits a face like you. The big bitch’s mask just made it more tantalizing."

Acidly, but softening: "What about quid pro quo? I don’t suppose you—"

"Cara mia, but of course!" Fury suddenly had the weird feeling she was in the middle of an ‘Addams Family’ rerun. "I had the cameras on in all the rooms!"

Savage Fury was about to inject herself forcibly into the argument but froze. She gaped at him. "You—you taped us making love??"

The glance he shot her way was so cold and contemptuous it made her feel like some kind of specimen under glass. "Hardly. I taped us fucking."

"You—you—" Her bewilderment exploded into wounded rage. The ponderous-pontooned paladin whipped out a shoulder-gloved arm and snatched him up like a misbehaving puppy. Held him at arm’s length overhead.

But despite turning red in the face he just smiled down at her! "You don’t want to pursue this, Fury." Even choked off, his voice gloated.

"Why the fuck not??" she demanded, shaking him. "I’ll smash this whole house!" She was almost in tears and hated it, hated even more the feelings of betrayal and shame.

"You—you’re nothing but a, a—GGGHHH!!"

Suddenly what felt like fire raked the Thighbooted Thunderbolt’s left leg! She grunted and stumbled to one leather-sheathed knee, dropping her intended victim.

"She does feel pain," Jennifer said behind her.

"I told you—her skin’s impenetrable but she isn’t armor-plated." Jonathan picked himself up, straightened his collar and bent over to slap some invisible dust from his pants.

"I’m going to make the big cow wish she was."

Fury, kneeling and massaging her throbbing hipbooted leg, realized what the blonde beauty was getting at.

"No way." The Savage Sensation shook her head. "Uh uh."

"I see." Jennifer was donning what looked like rollerskater’s gear: knee and elbow pads, reinforced fingerless gloves and heavy shoes. "You’ll fuck my husband but you won’t fight for him."

"Jennifer, I don’t want your husband!"

"You wanted him last night."

Fury flapped a leather-sheathed arm. "Last night was … last night. Champagne and a, well, a lot of other things. Besides …."

"Besides what?"

"Well, isn’t it obvious? I’m a superheroine. No offense, I mean you’re in great shape but—"

"No match for your super-strength?"

Fury let that one stand.

"I could tear this whole place down without breaking a sweat!"

"That’s what’s going to make this so sweet." Jennifer moved towards her, eagerly but warily. "You want to do it here in the ring?"

The incredulous Cowled Crusader stared down at the smaller beauty. "Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? You’re just a normal woman, there’s nothing you can do to make meOOOOGGH!!"

As a gloved hand struck at her like a rattlesnake and seemed to just touch her muscular midsection—but exploded pain as though a cannonball had plowed into her gut!

Leatherclad hand at her aching belly, suddenly the wary one, the shocked Fury backed away.

"My wonderful wife," Jonathan Hard explained with a smile, "is even more expert at pain than pleasure. She knows every nerve in the human body, and how to make it scream the loudest."

He climbed out of the ring. "I’d rather be the one to make you pay for spoiling my surprise, but since she’s dressed for it I’ll let her. Make it part of my gift."

"Gift?" Jennifer turned to him. "Surprise?? Oh, Jonathan …."

"Darling, you didn’t think I’d forget your birthday, did you?"

"Well, you haven’t even mentioned it—"

While these two loonies gabbed, Savage Fury decided it was time to leave. She had no intention of indulging Jennifer Hard in any insane macho fantasies, she’d apologized and that was enough. Besides, what if she accidentally killed this crazy bitch??

"Now what kind of surprise would it be if I told you?"

Neither paid Fury any attention when she started for the corner of the ring nearest the door.

Jennifer Hard didn’t even look around as Savage Fury passed behind her. At the ring corner the furious Fury paused, wondering whether to hop over the post or just rip it up.

She didn’t hear the blonde Amazon sneak up behind her. Jonathan’s half of the conversation continued over her left shoulder but she was too proud and angry to notice his wife wasn’t saying anything in reply.

She had just gripped the corner post to pluck it up like a weed when, from behind with all the strength in her muscular legs, Jennifer kicked Fury squarely on her still-swollen, very turned-on and supersensitive cunt. The steel toe made an impact like a smashed melon on the distended pendent lovemound bulging between Fury’s floppy-cuffed thighs and with a gassy porcine squeal the Cowled Crusader bowed forward over the post she’d been about to uproot, eyes screwed tightly shut behind their mask. Clutching her agonized pussy (juices flowing copiously between her gloved fingers), she didn’t see but definitely felt the follow-up kick that slammed into the back of a leather-sheathed knee, numbed that leg and dropped the Thighbooted Thunderbolt with a groan to kneel against the post.

Fury tried to leap to her feet again and knock this presumptuous bitch into next week

but only one of her legs was working, and that not very well. She had to push herself up with her gloved arms—and as she turned to face her attacker, defiance on her plush lips, a meteoric steel-shod foot lashed out in a savage kick to her throat.

But didn’t even make her shuffle her spikeheeled feet.

When Jennifer rebounded and rolled to her feet again, she was limping.

"It’s like kicking a marble statue padded with foam," the beautiful Amazon winced. "About two tons of it."

"I told you to be careful," Jonathan said.

Gasping and struggling for breath, Fury had it worse. Even a superwoman needed to breathe, and there seemed to be an iron collar strangling her. Plus her cunt throbbed horribly. And her gigantic jugs felt like they’d been smashed against a concrete slab—her own superstrong body!

But she’d been seduced and set up perfectly, with unknowing help from Scarlet Dragon.

Fury’s head spun and her masked eyes kept blurring, but she couldn’t wait for them to clear. Kicked brutally out of her, the overwhelming sexual craving had receded and left behind something worse: an ultra-sensitivity that tingled all over, especially her boobs and nipples and clit. Her thighboots’ heels feeling more like five feet than five inches, the awesome-bodied Mammazon Manhunter growled and lurched out into the ring toward Jennifer.

An insolent and infuriatingly impatient smile on her luscious (and tasty) lips, the blonde bombshell waited.

With a grunt of effort, Savage Fury swung an armgloved fist that could hole concrete, but all it holed was air. Jennifer Hard moved so fast she seemed to disappear from before the angry Amazon and rematerialize behind to pull the thong buried between Fury’s lavish globes till it cut into her sensitive pussy, then let it go with a cheek-shimmying (and asshole-twinging) snap!

"Soft," she tsked. "We’ll have to work some of this blubber off you, Savage Fatty."

The Cowled Crusader snarled and spun, swinging an arm like a leather-sheathed wrecking crane—and again her lithe-muscled opponent was gone as if by magic. But as she dodged around the staggering stupendous superheroine, she gave each of Fury’s big hard nipples a painful twisting jerk that made her squeal girlishly.

And when the ponderous-pontooned paladin turned that way swinging another artillery shell of a fist, Jennifer ducked under it with ease—and while she was down there snaked out a hand to yank on Fury’s protruding pearl of a clit!

The Savage Sensation shrieked in humiliated agony and clutched her agonized twat with both gloved hands, couldn’t help bowing her great thighs in a bit. For all her towering height and stupendous body, she managed to look like a little girl who had to go to the bathroom in the worst way!

Jonathan Hard applauded from a console he was adjusting.

Jennifer taunted her: "C’mon, Savage Fatty, I thought you were going to knock me into next week or something."

Tears of pain and frustration and rage burning her masked eyes, Fury gritted, "One punch, that’s all it’d take."

Jennifer slapped her cowled face—once, teasingly—then danced away. She grinned when Fury didn’t move after her, just stood there massaging her dripping pussy. "But it has to connect, doesn’t it?"

Somewhere inside Fury knew she was out of control, but that had ceased to matter. All that did matter was wiping that brazen arrogant smile off the face of this—normal woman!!

With an enraged bellow the Thighbooted Thunderbolt charged. As long as Jennifer had room to maneuver, she was too fast to touch.

Like a matador with a bull, the lithe-muscled blonde stepped aside and as she rushed past rifled a steel-fingered chop to Fury’s leather-sheathed elbow, numbing that entire arm to the shoulder. Frantically, Fury flailed out with that limb

and connected.

The arm was too deadened from the nerve punch to feel the impact but with a scream Jennifer hurtled back into the ropes, only to be flung forward again like an arrow from a bow and sprawl face down on the mat.

And lie there.

Still.

The broad sinewy back didn’t move.

"Oh Jesus," Jonathan gasped, "you’ve killed her!"

Fury came out of the rage instantly. As though inundated with ice water, her whole monumentally voluptuous body went as numb and cold as her arm.

"You murdering bitch!" he yelled.

"I—I …." Her mind wouldn’t make the words. She’d killed this woman. Whether provoked or not, she’d killed her!

"Jen …." The millionaire sobbed as he climbed into the ring and knelt at his wife’s side. "Oh Jen …."

Fury stood there, turned to stone. Her career, her life crashed about her. She sank to her booted knees and began to weep.

Then Jonathan stood. "I think that’s enough."

JENNIFER OPENED HER EYES! "You got it all?"

HE HELPED HER UP! "On all 4 cameras, once I figured out what you were aiming for. It’ll look great."

"What?" Fury was startled by her own voice. She sounded like a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

The couple turned to her. The coldly triumphant looks on their faces were so similar they could have been twins. Jonathan gloated, "What else? A tape of the great and wonderful Savage Fury abusing her super-powers by almost killing my wife in a jealous rage!"

The Fabulous Female stared. Feeling was coming back to her arm, but she didn’t notice. The sexual super-sensitivity was fading, but she didn’t notice.

Just then, the world could have ended and she wouldn’t have noticed.

"I was a stuntgirl before I got into modeling," Jennifer smiled. "Nice to see I can still fool ‘em."

"Well, it wasn’t like this one was a challenge," her husband put in.

She gave him a look but Savage Fury didn’t notice. She was a million miles away.

"W-why?" Fury managed to gasp.

"I told you," the millionaire sneered, "it’s my darling’s birthday. I was going to surprise her with a complete story on videotape of the humiliation and subjugation of the elephant-uddered superbitch she’s always hated most. But since you spoiled that, we’ve had a better idea."

"You’re my present!" Jennifer crowed.

Savage Fury stared at them both. Numb with shock and despair. All her immense strength, her powers—useless. She could tear these two sadists to pieces, bring down this entire house. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t react.

"N-no, oh no." Did that plaintive moan come from her? "P-please, no."

Jonathan came towards her. "But ‘please’ is what you’re going to do, Supertits. ‘Please’ us both."

He reached out to brazenly heft and fondle Fury’s gargantuan milkbags. She let him, could only watch tearfully as his hands groped and kneaded those titanic doughy pumpkins. The muscular glove-sheathed arms hung limp at her sides that could toss cars about like basketballs and tie inch-thick steel bars into knots as easily as pulling taffy.

Useless as taffy themselves.

They didn’t even twitch when he took her hard thumb-sized teats in his fingers and pinched them (Fury winced), pulled them out and let them snap back again (Fury bit her luscious lower lip). The mammoth soft globes sloshed heavily.

Jennifer knelt before her. Hidden beneath the gigantic jugs that Jonathan mauled with increasing cruelty (sinking his fingers to the second knuckle in all that heaving jiggling boob blubber), the helpless overwhelmed Thighbooted Thunderbolt couldn’t see but felt the blonde beauty open her still-dangling pussylips. She pulled them wide and gave them a pinch that made Fury stiffen with a gasp.

"What d’you think?" Jonathan asked, smiling pleasantly into Fury’s pain-etched masked face as he took her monstrous mamms by their nipples and swung them from side to side like a hulking pair of hammocks, slapping them meatily into one another.

"She’s beautiful inside, the bitch!" came from below. A soft feathery breath on her clit made the ponderous-pontooned paladin shiver. "Look at that—it’s the size of my little finger!"

"I was amazed at how tight she is. Her asshole too."

"Yes, considering the truckloads of meat the cow’s taken in from both ends."

"She’s a regular butcher shop."

Laughter from below. Fingers probed the Masked Mammazon’s delicate fuckfolds. Cowled face burning with her miserable shame, Fury sucked air through clenched teeth.

"She’s already lubing up again!"

Then something else—something cold looped around her clit as though it had been lasso’d. Fury reached for her crotch, but Jonathan twisted her nipples hard and she froze.

"Ah ahh."

Jennifer straightened, showed the hapless humiliated heroine one end of a strand of fishing line. She didn’t have to say what precious pearl the other end held captive.

"Looks like we caught us a big one, darling."

"Is it secure?" Jonathan asked, eyes never leaving Fury’s, her sensitive finger-teats clamped in his fingers.

"If she so much as tries to touch her twat—"

Fury screamed as Jennifer yanked the line loop tight around her tender clit. She dropped to her thighbooted knees before the two sadists and bawled.

They gazed impassively down at the wailing stupendously scantclad superwoman who knelt before them. Even on her knees, Fury’s cowled head was level with Jennifer’s tits.

Jelloblimps jiggling vastly with her sobs, she was a vision of wretched blubbering misery.

"Magnificent!" Jonathan breathed.

Jennifer gave the line a slight tug and Fury scrambled to her feet again. Stared down at the pair, sniffling. Though she was standing and a full head taller than either, she might as well have still been on her knees.

"The best birthday present ever. Thank you, darling!" Jennifer Hard gave her husband a light peck on the cheek.

-13-

It was right in the middle of it all (and as usual so was she) when Savage Fury realized she’d had Enough.

No, more like

Jonathan was fucking her masked face, sliding his mammoth dick between Fury’s opulent lips till she choked on it, then pulling out and pushing in again—mechanically, like he was using a machine of some kind, even though he was big as a house in her widestretched mouth. And Jennifer was cramming an even bigger strap-on hogleg into the Savage Sensation’s raw no-longer-puckered asshole. The curving appliance was so big that even with Fury’s well-reamed anus the blonde sadist had to pound it in with a hammer the first time before strapping it (and the sobbing abjectly hunkered super-Amazon) on.

The only sounds in the room were Fury’s grunts and gasps of pain and the juicy sucking sounds her drooling lips made around the well-lubed bull dork Jonathan pumped into her mouth. She sucked the great rigid dong earnestly because every time she slowed down or so much as paused to take a breath, Jennifer would give the clit line a tug and the Thighbooted Thunderbolt hated the way they chuckled and giggled at her shrill bleats even more than the humiliating way they were doing her. Every so often her tormentors would pause to slap a high five over her broad bare back, usually after yet another tortured groaning orgasm and flood of cum down the gargantuan-globed Glamazon’s thighs into her boots.

It was about the 4^th or 5^th time that happened (could’ve as easily been the 6^th or 10^th) and Jonathan was stirring his huge cock around in her mouth with his balls bouncing against her chin making her gag on all that rampant gristle and Jennifer had finally managed to force the massive faux member all the way to its fake balls between the Thighbooted Thunderbolt’s lavish sweaty buttcheeks (to her upper intestine, or so it felt), and Fury thought (in a small distant place where she could still think) that she knew now how a shishkabob felt

when the latest jubilant slap of palms over her cowled head Did Something that hadn’t been Done before. Or maybe reached Something that had been hiding beyond Reach for the past (how long? hours? days?). Something the despairing degraded double-dirigibled ex-dominatrix wasn’t sure could be done any more.

Suddenly the Cowled Crusader pulled her mouth off the huge organ before her—a second too late to avoid the spurt of thick gooey sperm that splashed her mask and cheeks (but at least you didn’t have to swallow this load too). Blinded, Fury jumped to her spikeheeled feet and, without pausing to wipe the sticky goop from her face,

fled wildly, madly from the room! Got about five steps before the wire looped about her clit and wound about Jennifer’s hand pulled taut.

Later, Paige Powers reflected that if she’d known how much it would hurt, how utterly paralyzing the pain would be, she wouldn’t have had the nerve to try it—that was how far down the two sadists had pushed her.

The Thighbooted Thunderbolt stumbled to her knees at the blinding flash of purest excruciating agony from her pussy

just a momentary burst, but enough to numb her from the waist down

before the tiny noose, thoroughly lubricated by Fury’s continuous climaxes (or you might have blacked out), slipped free.

The hapless howling heroine smashed through the steel door as though it was cardboard, stumbled blindly up the stairs

and would have shattered all the doors between her and the outside like a cannonball, except that, magically, each and every one of them was wide open for her.

As she raced down the driveway Fury stumbled and, picking herself up, glanced behind to see the butler sedately close the front doors from within.

The sobbing stupendous superwoman didn’t slow down until she got home. Thank God it was Monday and the neighborhood was deserted, because she was way past caring who saw her almost jerk her own front door off its hinges then slam it behind her, so hard the impact echoed like a cannon shot and the whole house shook.

It was when she was stripping off her costume that she noticed Jennifer Hard’s enormous dildo still jammed to the balls up her great ass. She hadn’t even felt it in there, all the way home. Fury pulled it out with a grunt and crumpled it to a wad of plastic the size of a marble—a pea—a grain of sand.

Then showered till the hot water ran out. Sat crumpled in a corner of the stall whimpering but still didn’t feel clean. Wondered if she ever would again. At full power, dry and undrugged, Savage Fury had never been beaten by non-super villains before. And not just beaten, but humiliated and degraded.

No, it was a lot more. She’d been slow and stupid and gullible and helpless before her own weird sex drive. Jennifer had told the truth about catching "a big one." They’d played her like an Amazonian fish, reeled her in and boated her, and done what they wanted with her.

And so she did.