DELTA NIGHTS 04: 

FALL

by Pegasus

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY OFFENDED BY SEXUAL MATERIAL, BONDAGE, DISCIPLINE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OR OTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS. All heroines in this story are the creations of Mr. X. 

A new order rises in Delta as the heroines fight for their lives against an unseen force which has grown more audacious with every victim it converts. Will the united Sisterhood stand a chance against this unstoppable opponent, or will the group shatter and fail? How long can our heroines last before they succumb to their own dark, sexual urges? Find out below... It's going to be a long fall for the superheroines of Delta City. 

Please direct all comments and feedback to benchleyfan01@yahoo.com, or visit my blog at http://writer-pegasus.livejournal.com/.

***

SEPTEMBER

Angela Grear took a swing and connected with the large black punching bag hanging before her. She let out an angry grunt and swung again, then kicked, sending the bag flying backwards. The chain connected to it rattled loudly, and Angela stepped out of the way as the bag came back on its arc. She took off her gloves and threw them to the ground, then snatched up a bottle of water and took a long drink. 

For a moment, she stood still, savoring the feel of her muscles burning, the sweat running across her cocoa-colored skin - down her flushed cheeks and her long graceful neck, trickling over her firmly muscled thighs and down her legs. It weighed down her long, dark ponytail and soaked her tight black workout shorts and her pink sports bra, making the items cling even more forcefully to her hot skin. 

She stood back from the punching bag, which still swung back and forth silently. Grear looked around the sparsely populated gym, then slid her hands down to her full, round, muscular buttocks, squeezing them until she was confident in their tightness. Then she brought her hands up, cupping and lifting her heavy breasts, massaging them to assure herself of their firmness. She ran a hand over her toned abdomen as she caught her breath after a long workout, convincing herself she was as in as good shape as ever. As she picked up her towel and gloves, she rued the fact that her city was not in equally good shape.

In her opinion, Delta City had been going down a dark path in the last few months. Following the passing of LB 244 in March, which legalized prostitution within the city limits of Delta, it had been a long, hot summer. Now it was mid-September. By the time the bill passed, Ms. Americana and Got Gal, the city's two premiere superheroines, had already disappeared. No one had been able to contact them in either their private or public identities. The only views they'd been given of the heroines were in a series of pornographic video tapes that had been mailed out from a mysterious villain known only as Mind Fuck. The remaining Delta heroines had grouped together in an organization they called the Sisterhood, but it had failed to prevent Mind Fuck from easily abducting four of their members in only a matter of days. Their three youngest members - Champion Girl, Amazing Babe, and Specter Girl - had disappeared without a trace and began appearing in pornos of their own, and the hot-headed former diamond thief known as Esha followed suit soon after.

The lack of superheroines within the city led to a severe crime wave which kept the remaining heroines more than busy. Riots and looting were prevalent, with minor robberies and gang activity flourishing. Though the city's biggest crime boss, Erica Sambino, had been sent to prison along with most of her lieutenants, her underlings had split into factions and formed into loosely organized clans that were harder to predict than ever. Angela, in her superheroine guise of Lady Midnight, was at wit's end to stop the crimes. Her friends within the Sisterhood, like Power Lass and Azure Angel, were becoming increasingly violent, though Angela was trying to resist that temptation. Meanwhile, her friend Axanna Morgan, otherwise known as the Green Specter, Specter Girl's mother, had sunk into a deep depression since her daughter's conversion into a young porn star. Crime fighting was no longer one of her passions - she spent most days within her enormous mansion, with a glass of Scotch in her hand.

The Sisterhood had gained two new members over the summer - the environmental advocate Dana McQueen, known to the world as the loincloth-clad Jungle Babe, and Sara Kraft, a British socialite who used her inheritance to fund her tomb-hunting expeditions. Both of the women had been drawn to Delta recently to aid in the fight against rising crime as street-level vigilantes, but neither of them fit well within the group dynamic of the Sisterhood. They were loners, devoted more to their own ideals than to the standards of justice that heroines like Angela stood for. Then again, she thought as she took another  drink from her water bottle.... She wondered if the Sisterhood stood for much of anything anymore.

The main crime problem within Delta City for the last several years had been the empires of influential pimps. But with the legalization of prostitution, the government had stepped in directly to regulate the flesh trade that superheroines had been fighting to abolish. The major pimps had disappeared, died or been brought to justice by a police force that finally devoted all its attention to the red light district of Sugar Town. A new program was then brought into effect, as August saw the first state-run brothels near completion in the very same district, newly cleaned and rejuvenated. A temporary new police headquarters was set up in Sugar Town, and the more unsavory strip clubs and bars were bought out or shut down, transformed into rehab centers for drug-addicted prostitutes without a pimp to support them anymore.

A new day was dawning in Delta, for better or for worse. And the city had one man to thank - Noah Vale. Vale had been the one to propose LB 244 in the State Legislature, the one to push it through, and the one put in charge by the governor of the rehab centers and brothels in the reformed Sugar Town. It was all too much of a coincidence - at the same time that Mind Fuck was bringing down the most powerful heroines in the city, Vale was slowly but surely cementing his spot as a major state official. He had the police and even some federal agents at his beck and call as he reshaped the city to his liking as the virtual dictator of Sugar Town. The Sisterhood suspected he was the face behind Mind Fuck's mask, but surveillance had yielded nothing and his financial records were spotless - he could not be connected to the porno company that now employed some of Angela's oldest and best friends. She felt powerless to do anything. As Delta's district attorney, the situation made her even more disturbed.

Looking up, Angela saw Vale's innocent-looking face in her head as she stared at the now-still punching bag. Growling and gritting her teeth, she stepped forward and struck it once again with her bare fist.

***

On the drive back to her apartment from the gym, Angela felt a familiar feeling, like butterflies in her stomach. She felt light-headed and overheated, though the crisp autumn air was cool on her face. The feeling spread throughout her body and she began to breathe heavily. She knew what was happening. Ever since she had relented one night in early July and begun masturbating to one of the porn videos the villain Mind Fuck had sent her, she had been unable to rid herself of an intense feeling of arousal for more than a few hours at a time. Exercising seemed to help her - she could move her focus to something other than her own hungry cunt and swollen, neglected nipples. She needed a man, but surrendering to the dark desires the porn had engendered in her meant sacrificing her self-control, and it seemed self-control was the only thing she had left nowadays. 

She suspected her fellow heroines felt the same way - it would explain the violent frustration Power Lass was venting on criminals every day and night - but there was nothing they could do for each other. Angela found the idea of a lesbian coupling unappealing... for the time being, that is. She didn't know how long she'd be able to hold out before turning to one of her friends for satisfaction. 

She pulled over to the side of the road hurriedly and put on her blinkers, then at once began molesting her own body, hot with desires. Through her sports bra and the loose white shirt she had thrown on over it, she squeezed her tits angrily, letting out a ragged moan of frustration and muffled pleasure. The feeling of her fingers digging into the firm but soft flesh of her breasts was, as usual, not enough to give her the pleasure required for her to achieve orgasm. She could never give herself that pleasure - she suspected it was part of the curse of her Aphrodite biology. 

Angela was an Aphrodite female - a woman born to attract males, to instill in them a desire to mate with her. Her figure, her breasts, her face, her flawless skin - all of it was a product of nature. Likewise, she was subject to crippling desires, the product of a lifetime spent denying her carnal nature in favor of heroism. And this is where that life had led her, Angela thought to herself darkly as she sat alone in her car, feeling herself up frantically, one hand reaching down to rub her. This is where that life had led her.

***

Across the city, nurse Karen Clark was having the same type of thoughts. In one of the store rooms near the ER at Delta General Hospital, the tall, buxom, blonde woman who was known to the city as the heroine Power Lass backed herself up against a wall, one hand flying out wildly and smashing into some shelves, the other diving under her shirt. Metal instruments and trays clattered to the floor as she began to tear at her own clothes, a day's worth of erotic heat exploding into an embarrassing show of passion.

"Fuck!" she whispered hotly as she began to pull off her clothes, revealing the athletic figure and voluptuous curves of an Aphrodite woman. During the day, Karen's baggy, pastel-colored scrubs did a good job of hiding her enviable figure, and she strapped her breasts down in order to keep them concealed and unassuming. She was the most well-endowed of any of the Delta heroines, and disguising her chest was as important as the pare of wire-framed glasses she wore in her civilian identity. She yanked up her shirt, revealing her glistening, tan abdomen, then began tugging at the medical tape wrapped around her bust. 

Even as she did this, she knew it would not be enough - she would not be able to pleasure herself satisfactorily, and she would have to return home and masturbate furiously to one of the Mind Fuck tapes she'd been mailed, then try to pretend to all her colleagues that she wasn't being affected, that she was just as strong as ever. She had always been the strongest heroine in Delta. That wasn't about to change. She felt her nipples hardening more than ever, poking against the medical tape even as she loosened the constraints. 

She sank to her knees, squirming, head thrown back. Her blonde bob of hair waved from side to side, bangs falling over her eyes, squeezed shut in rapture. "Fuck," she said again.

***

And elsewhere, Axanna Morgan prepared to turn in for the night. The multi-millionaire newspaper heiress shuffled down a long hallway in her vast home, a snifter of burgundy in one hand. She was decidedly calmer than her superheroine associates Karen and Angela - most of her sexual frustration was hidden underneath layers of alcohol haze and a stoic depression that had gripped her the past few months. Ever since the abduction of her daughter Summer, she had not been the same. She had also endured a humiliating defeat and near-rape at the hands of a vicious gang.

Since that night, Axanna had been hesitant to put on the costume of the Green Specter. She decided that such public feats only made her more of a target. She would help her friends in the Sisterhood, but she was beginning to consider official, permanent retirement. 

She found herself at the door to one of the dozens of rooms in her mansion, and hesitated. It was the bedroom of her daughter, missing for months now, taken in the prime of her young life. The walls were decorated with posters of Summer's favorite bands and news clippings about Specter Girl's many exploits, both with her mother and on her own. Summer's computer desk was lined with framed pictures of herself with her mother and friends in their public lives. Axanna paused and looked down into her daughter's smiling face, then sighed and turned away. 

She hadn't changed the room a bit since her daughter disappeared. In fact, she hadn't even righted the computer chair which had been tipped onto its side when the abductees came for the girl. In fact, the only addition to the room was a growing stack of porno DVDs starring the missing girl that had begun appearing in the Morgan residence's mailbox a week after she was taken. Axanna couldn't bear to watch them. She realized everything was crashing down around the heroines' heads since Mind Fuck came onto the scene, but she refused to see her daughter like that. Reduced... to that.

Axanna took a seat on her daughter's pristine bedspread, but only briefly. She took a drink from her glass and stood to go, but then looked down in shock as she felt a surprising tingling on her chest. She was amazed to see two tiny wet spots appearing on the front of her silk blouse, and she realized why. Ever since she'd given birth to Summer, her breasts had lactated unpredictably from time to time, perhaps as a side-effect of her Aphrodite biology interacting with her female hormones. She could not ignore the erotic feeling of milk dripping out of her nipples and brought up one hand to gingerly tweak one breast before regaining her senses and walking from the room.

***

"This is pathetic," Dana McQueen said angrily, throwing the day's newspaper down on the table in front of the Sisterhood. 

It was the next morning, Monday, September 21st. A meeting of the city's heroines had been thrown together to discuss the most recent news out of the reformed Sugar Town: governor Bud Uronner, mayor Lou Segusi, and their friend Noah Vale had released a joint statement announcing the city's decision to pardon a majority of standing charges against imprisoned pimps like Anthony Zurgis, James Rodney, and Wallace Little, also known by their street names Mr. Cock, JJ Rod, and Kid Rotten. If these former lords of Sugar Town agreed to comply with government standards and work under Vale's close supervision, they would be given administrative duties within the community and all former charges would be waived. 

"You think it's repulsive, try being me," Lady Midnight said, sitting back almost bemusedly in her chair and blowing a long strand of hair out of her face. "I have to talk to these creeps and give them their official pardons later this afternoon. That's my job as DA now - to let people I know for a fact should be in jail go scot free."

"This system is a joke," McQueen said. 

"You know, I'm hearing a lot out of you right now," said Power Lass from across the table, arms crossed, "But I don't remember seeing you out on the streets fighting against these guys five years ago, when Ms. Americana and Got Gal were in their prime. I didn't see you coming out against LB 244 a few months ago, when it was most important."

"My place is not in this world of men you've let go to shit," Jungle Babe spat back. "I've lived in the jungles of South America for years. I've made my fight for justice somewhere it might actually count, instead of this corrupt, dying city."

"I actually read all the Sugar Town reforms are bringing economic growth to the city," Azure Angel piped up. As the youngest heroine left in the Sisterhood, she was eager to impress. "It's not really killing the city; it's helping in a way."

"Oh, shut up," said Axanna Morgan, the only one of the heroines not in costume. She stood at the door, a martini in one hand. "These people are criminals. And this Vale is no better - he's just good at fooling everyone. I mean, we've been trying for months to find one single, solitary shred of evidence to use against him, and we've got nothing. The public is blind. They love him. But he's not in this to help the city. He's in it to advance his own career."

"Well, we can hardly go out and arrest a politician for being ambitious, can we?" chuckled Sara Kraft. 

"We'll get him on something," Lady Midnight said quietly but resolutely. "He'll slip up and we'll get him. They always do."

"Do you really believe that?" Jungle Babe asked angrily, picking up the newspaper again and shaking it at her. "How can you have any faith in a system that lets this happen? My God, you see it from the inside - you must know how rotten it all is!"

"You're all talk," Power Lass said. "You've done nothing to -"

"And neither have you!" Dana screeched. "None of you have done anything to fix this! None of you have stopped these people from just taking over! For heaven's sake, the best of you - Ms. Americana and Got Gal - are already working for the enemy! What does that tell you?"

There was silence at the table. When it broke, it was Dana again speaking, albeit quieter.

"These meetings are useless. Coordination of our numbers is useless against a city full of hoods running the streets and power-hungry bureaucrats running city hall. This is too big for us to fight with fists."

"I disagree," said Power Lass, also calm. "It's more important now than ever that we stick together. Strength in numbers. It's that simple."

"We can't fight this--" Dana repeated, but she was interrupted by Axanna.

"So what then? We just wait here, in our hideouts, planning and plotting while he takes us out one by one? If we can't fight this with our fists, then what do we do? Surrender? Retreat?"

"Never," Power Lass growled. "We never stop fighting. This is war, and that's what war is. Once you're in it... you're in it. We've gotta fight. If it's truth, we fight on that truth. If it's a lie, we fight on that lie. But we've gotta fight."

"We're fighting anarchy out there on the streets," Sara said somberly. "I only have so many bullets in my guns. I can't kill every bloody mugger and drug dealer. But there's no boss to take out anymore, so what else can we do? I've never seen anything like it. Not in America."

"Crime is a fact of life in Delta now," Lady Midnight said. "Not crime families, not crime syndicates, not supercrime... just crime. While the cops and the politicians have been polishing Sugar Town, everything else has gone downhill. We all know that. Erica Sambino and her boys aren't around to call the shots, so all the mice have come out to play."

"Well, I think it's like Sara said," Dana interjected. "We can't shoot them all, can't beat them all up, can't throw them all in jail. So what do we do, Miss Superhero?"

"We lead," Lady Midnight said, standing up and staring Dana down. "Just what we've always done. We lead by example. And when the city knows what's right, they'll all follow. And we'll get out of this."

Dana was left with no rebuttal. Power Lass and Axanna nodded approval at their friend's speech, while Azure Angel just watched in awe. 

"You bloody superheroines," Sara Kraft finally laughed after a long silence. "You're all sodding crazy. I love it."

***

Well, that's another bullet dodged, Angela thought as she changed into her civilian outfit and left Axanna's mansion. For the umpteenth time, the Sisterhood had come within inches of collapsing upon itself and splitting apart, and she had managed to save it. She could still inspire the others, though she didn't have the patriotic advantage Ms. Americana had. Hopefully, she wasn't just lying through her teeth. Hopefully, they would eventually be able to turn the tide against anarchy and crime and make the streets safe again. Hopefully, someday, she would get laid.

Angela cursed herself for letting that stray thought through her defenses. She couldn't let herself get weak. Not today, of all days. As she strode outside to her car, she contemplated the fact that in just a few minutes she would be sitting down to chat with some of her worst enemies, the pimps of Delta City. It was embarrassing and infuriating enough that she would be discussing the terms of their pardons. She didn't need her libido running haywire at the same time.

Still, as she made her way across town through the midday traffic, Angela found her right hand continually straying from its place on the steering wheel to tickle and caress the exposed skin of her breasts. She had hidden her superhero outfit in the back of her car, but Angela was dressed sultrily enough anyway. Her short black skirt exposed the smooth length of her stocking-clad legs, and it seemed she had fastened one too few buttons at the top of her white blouse. Her tits would be obvious to the men she had dedicated both her public and private lives to combatting, but instead of worrying about what was proper, she found herself gazing down at her breasts and peeking at her lacy black bra, smiling at the thought that she was as sexy as ever. 

She pulled up outside the county penitentiary and strode in confidently, swaying her hips with gusto as she marched up to the front desk. She submitted to a pat-down and thrilled secretly to the feeling of a man's hand on her body. Perhaps that should have been a sign to her that she should venture no further into the prison. But instead she collected her personal items when they had been deemed secure and moved on.

As she was becoming accustomed to doing, she found Noah Vale outside the private room that had been set aside for the three soon-to-be community administrators. He was always on hand when scumbags like Zurgis, Rodney, and Little were in custody. Just another facet in the mosaic of suspicions she had against him. Still, he greeted her with that warm, innocent smile he had trademarked. He reached forward to shake his hand, and when she denied it he simply slid it into his pocket.

"Beautiful fall day, isn't it Ms. Grear?" he asked. She fought the urge to deck him.

"Let's cut the chit-chat, Senator," she growled in her best intimidating superheroine voice. "I assume you're here as a representative for the three men inside this room?"

"Uh, yes," he replied, still grinning pleasantly. "I won't be around for the proceedings, but someone from your office mailed over the documents to my secretary this morning. I'm aware of everything, and I've agreed."

"You... you won't be around for the... proceedings?" Angela repeated haltingly. 

"No, I'm afraid I have to get going," he said, rubbing the back of his head and smiling bashfully with that gee-shucks attitude he had mastered. "This whole Sugar Town situation requires a lot of oversight. But like I said, I'm aware of everything you'll be telling the boys in there. As their legal counsel, I've signed all the necessary documents, and urged them to do the same. No problems."

"Well, alright, but..."

"Great!" he exclaimed, turning to go before spinning on his heels and walking back to her. "Wait, one last thing. I thought maybe you'd have an opinion on this. Some of the people in my office have been telling me we should think about renaming the neighborhood. Sugar Town, that is. Giving it a different, more official sounding name. Something cleaner, more connotative of, you know, progress instead of... Instead of... Well between you and me, instead of people like them." He jerked his thumb at the room holding the three pimps.

Angela felt a combination of hatred, confusion, anger, and surprise flowing through her. Mixed with the growing arousal she always felt around Vale, these feelings were so potent that she could not formulate a coherent answer. She simply gaped at  him.

"No ideas right now?" he asked. "Okay. That's fair. Well, let me know if anything strikes you. You've got my office's number, right? Right. Okay, gotta go. Bye!"

Angela stood for a moment in the hallway after he'd gone. It was funny - every time she met Noah Vale, she was at the same time more suspicious and angry with him and more positive that he could not possible be Mind Fuck. This charming man? A ruthless villain bent on dominating the city, one woman at a time? No way. He had such a cute butt... 

She shook these thoughts out of her head and turned to enter the room. She expected the three vicious pimps to try to rush her at the door, but instead she found them all seated a the table in the center of the room. They regarded her with nonetheless voracious eyes as she approached them and set her briefcase down on the table and removed her jacket. It was sweltering in the room, and she was glad to be rid of it. She wiped a bead of sweat from her temple and sat down across from the trio of criminals.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said wearily, opening her briefcase and pulling out a few folders and three pens. "Senator Vale assured me you all know why you're here, and have agreed to all the terms the governor has offered you in exchange for full pardons."

"Yes, ma'am," Zurgis said after a short pause. She looked up into his face, saw that he was completely calm on the surface, though she could sense he was probably bursting, ecstatic, overjoyed to be escaping prison on such a ridiculous pretense. She remembered his nickname of Mr. Cock and thought briefly of the massive penis he was renowned for. She wondered how it looked, how heavy it was, how it tasted. "Mr. Vale came and talked to all three of us, ma'am."

"Great," Angela sighed, opening a folder and pulling out a packet of papers for Zurgis to sign. 

"But..." JJ Rod began with only the faintest hint of a smirk. "We don't really trust that muthafucka."

"...So?" Angela paused, papers in hand.

"So we want you to read 'em to us," Kid Rotten said.

"What?" She was dumbfounded.

"We have a hard time trusting Mr. Vale," Mr. Cock said. "He's a big city man. Quick talker. But you... we like to watch you talk. And we know you're obligated to make sure you understand the terms of our contract."

After a long moment, Angela let out a heavy sigh and looked down resignedly. 

"You're right," she admitted. "I am obligated."

"Yeah, we know," JJ Rod smiled.

Almost half an hour of careful dictation later, Angela flipped a page in the packet of papers she held and began reading "Section 12" of their pardon agreement. She trudged forward in a dull monotone, the hot little room making sweat pop out on her brow. She reached down and unfastened a button on her blouse, too tired to be aware that she had already undone most of her shirt - her bra-enclased tits were on full display to the ravenous eyes of the pimps, who due to their incarceration had been without female accompaniment for the last few months, the longest time in their adult lives. All three were fully erect just from watching Angela's plump lips form the words of their release document, much less the added treat of her outstanding cleavage. Angela finished with Section 12 and flipped the page, confident her task was finished and she would soon be leaving the prison.

"And that's... Hey... wait... There's another Section here," she said, drowsy but surprised that there was an amendment to the document she'd okayed the night before.

"That's the section we were unsure about," Mr. Cock's said pleasantly. "Could you read it to us, please, just so we can be sure?"

"M'kay," Angela said. "'Section 13. The aforementioned and designated felons are to be released only after consultation with a representative of the city, who shall acquiesce with all of their demands, be they of a legal, financial, or... sexual... nature...?"

Angela looked up, perplexed, then dropped the paper to the table and slumped. She felt like less than half of the proud woman who had rallied the greatest heroines in the city just a few hours before.

"What is this? I don't even..."

"You read it, bitch," Mr. Cock said confidently, rising from the table. "You gotta do exactly what we say for you to do if you want us to get out of prison."

"And we know you gotta let us out," his compatriot, JJ Rod said, also standing. "Your boss told you so. It's the law now."

"No..." Angela pleaded meekly, not even shying away as the men surrounded her. She felt... defeated. Why? What could make her feel so weak? She was a powerful woman, a strong-willed woman, a hero... "No, no... This doesn't even make any sense..."

"Oh, it makes sense to us," Kid Rotten chuckled, beginning to slowly unzip the front of his tan prison jumpsuit in front her eyes. "Whole lotta sense."

No, Angela thought as the men disrobed before her. It can't end like this. I'm the hero. I'm supposed to be leading the fight against men like this, we're supposed to win the battle. And even if we fall, I should be the last one standing. I shouldn't go down without a fight, I can't be taken out so easily...

But it was with great ease that Mr. Cock scooped Angela Grear out of her chair, pulling her face up to his. 

"Mr. Vale told us you would be this way," he said. "Told us you wouldn't resist or nothin'... But damn, girl, even I didn't think you'd be this weak."

He pressed his lips onto hers, and true to Noah Vale's promise, Angela found she had no resistance left. 

***

Mayor Lou Segusi roared with laughter. Senator Noah Vale sat before him in the mayor's office, hands folded politely on his lap.

"Let... let me get this straight," Segusi said through guffaws and tears of joy, putting down a piece of paper marked 'Section 13.' "You added an extra clause to the pimps' release form... guaranteeing that bitch DA would have to have sex with them before they got released?"

"Correct," Noah said quietly, smiling to himself.

"And... and... and you're telling me that not only is Angela Grear secretly the superheroine Lady Midnight... but you're planning to enslave her at some point in the future and force her into pornography and prostitution... because you're the man called Mind Fuck?"

"Correct," Noah repeated, but his face betrayed no emotion. Segusi exploded with laughter again. The corpulent mayor was a grotesque sight to behold, jiggling violently in his chair, stomping his feet, slamming his fists on his thighs, head back, spittle escaping the corners of his mouth. When he calmed down, he had more questions.

"So... you're the one who's been making all those "Cum-Drunk Super Slut" videos I've been hearing about?" 

"Correct," Noah said for the third time.

"I don't get it," Segusi said, finally calming down to match his guest's demeanor. "How? How did you do all these things?"

"Well, the short answer would be that I'm a high-level psychic. I can impose my will on any subject, bend their minds to my pleasure."

"Huh," Segusi grunted at Noah's simplistic, nonchalant explanation. "Well, then... I guess the next question I would ask is 'Why?'"

"Why?" Noah smiled. "For the same reason I'm here today, Lou: to remove all obstacles from my path. The superheroines stood in the way of my quest for power... so I'm having them eliminated. One by one. And you, Mr. Mayor... You are just one more obstacle."

"What... what..." Segusi stuttered, backing his chair away from the massive oak desk he sat at. "What are you saying? That you want my spot? You want to be mayor?"

"No," Noah said with a derisive snort. "No, I have my sights set a little higher than that, you pathetic little troll. All I want is your compliance. Total and absolute. I don't need to be you. I'm going to own you."

"Now... just... Just watch who you're talking to, young man," Segusi said before collapsing to the floor, hands gripping his head as he was suddenly overcome by agonizing pain. He screamed briefly before the pain abated and he rose to his knees, looking up in fear at Vale from behind his desk.

"I thought about bringing one of my superheroine bitches in here to threaten to pop your skull, little man," the senator said. "But I have all the power I need to destroy you... right here." He tapped his head.

Segusi said nothing - his jaw trembled, tears of joy in his eyes becoming tears of abject terror. Noah stood above him menacingly, eyes blazing.

"You and your cronies have run this city for years now, Lou. And the lot of you haven't done much with it except inflate your wallets. You let superhumans run wild out there in the streets, let hoods and thugs destroy your town with drugs, let pimps and mobsters slice up a piece of the pie that should be all yours. You had the ability to turn this city into your own personal dictatorship, but you did nothing. You had your chance, and you blew it. Well, now the game's up. Delta City is under new management."

"...Okay," Segusi replied. "Okay, I'll do whatever you ask, I swear, I promise, just... don't hurt me. But... I don't know how Governor Uronner's going to take this."

"Oh," Noah said, picking up his coat and preparing to exit. "I'll be paying Bud a visit later today. I expect he'll take it about the same way you did. On his knees."

***

Any number of factors could have given Angela Grear the strength necessary to avoid the coming sexual degradation she would experience at the hands of Delta City's notorious trio of pimps. Had the room been slightly cooler, she may have been a little more level-headed. Had she been wearing her Lady Midnight costume, she may not have allowed herself to so easily fall into the role of prey. She may have taken it upon herself as a symbol of justice to fight the pimps off. Had the long summer not been so stressful, she may have had the resolve and sense of dignity which had slowly been stolen from her during months of sexual frustration. Had she not become so familiar with, and indeed enamored of, the bizarre porn movies Mind Fuck had been sending her, she might have been quick to reject such an absurd premise for her own sexual corruption. 

But as it was, Angela was unwittingly in the perfect position to be taken advantage of. That very morning she had been one of the primary voices of reason and determination at the meeting of the Sisterhood, but the vein of sexual aggravation and weakness that had been flowing under her facade of bravado was easily exploited by the three pimps. Likewise, had these three been any less confident in themselves as masters of seduction, such an audacious plan might not have appealed to the nearly-free prisoners.

And so, Mr. Cock found himself enjoying the warmth and wetness of a lingering kiss with the beautiful District Attorney Angela Grear. He enjoyed a deeper, darker appreciation of her capitulation as she submitted to the kiss and to his hands creeping over her voluptuous body. He had only recently been informed by Noah Vale that this gorgeous woman, a longtime enemy of him and his kind in courtrooms, was also the marauding vigilante known as Lady Midnight, who had for years made his life harder. 

Now the bitch was only making his dick harder as his hands slid down her back, under her loosened shirt, to grasp her firm, large ass through the smooth material of her skirt. Angela was briefly reminded of the feeling of her own hands on her buttocks after her workout the night before as he squeezed, eliciting an involuntary moan from the woman. Her eyes were closed as Mr. Cock's tongue moved over her soft lips and into her mouth, over her teeth and gums. She felt more hands seize the white blouse hanging off her and pull it away sharply, bursting the final fastened buttons as the sleeves were pulled down her limp arms and away from her body, revealing the creamy coffee-colored skin of her torso and the lacy black bra holding her breasts in place high on her chest.

She heard the snickers of the other two pimps as they tossed her shirt aside then reached forward and busied themselves on unfastening her brassiere from behind. She was helpless to do anything to stop them; her mind was too exhausted to fight anymore. She realized as she smelled the musk of the men around her and tasted the mouth of Mr. Cock that she found the experience deeply arousing and a huge relief after months of crippling desire. She felt those feelings of tension and unease that had forced her to pull over her car the previous night melt into something that made her pussy tighten and heat up; her thighs rubbed together of their own volition as Mr. Cock held her close, supporting her weight against his dense, muscled form. His lips and tongue moved across hers and they moaned into each other happily.

Then her bra straps were loose, falling off her shoulders and down to her elbows. The only thing keeping her smooth, full tits covered was the pressure of Mr. Cock holding her against his body. She felt hands on her legs, the other two pimps lifting her legs from behind and beginning to pull her skirt down, followed by her panties and stockings. Her bra fell away as her body was lifted easily and moved over to the table at the center of the room. The pimps knocked her briefcase to the floor and threw down the folders and papers she had presented them with. Her lips at last disconnected from Mr. Cock's, strands of spit hanging between their mouths as she was deposited on the table unceremoniously. She found herself suddenly no longer level with the pimp's face, but instead with his naked crotch. 

It was obvious how Mr. Cock had gotten his name. His triumphant erection hung in front of her face, angry red cockhead glistening in the dim light, veins bulging down its length. And boy, did it have length. Angela gaped stupidly at the sex organ staring her down, blinking, then flinched as she felt unforgiving hands grab her from behind and spread her legs. She allowed it to happen without protest, eyes still locked on the cock that had her full attention. She heard JJ Rod muttering something amusedly about her pussy already being wet, felt fingers probing into her, but it was all far away. Her eyes ran the length of the cock at full mast as if it was challenging her, daring her to try to escape. She felt hypnotized. 

Mr. Cock's hands ran through her smooth, clean hair, tilting her head upwards, demanding her attention. She shifted her gaze up to the man's eyes, and she saw him smile at the look of awe in her own. 

"You might think this is odd," Mr. Cock said gently. "The three of us all ganging up on you like this, fucking you together. But we run trains all the time. This is nothing new to us, even if it is to you."

As he finished speaking, Angela felt the unmistakeable feel of another cock pushing against the outer lips of her pussy, the pressure and then the pleasure as inch after inch of shaft made its way into her cunt. She let out a low, guttural moan, her body quivering as JJ Rod entered her. His hands squeezed and kneaded her spectacular, firm buttocks, and he pulled on them as he pushed his hips further forward. 

Mr. Cock took his opportunity and lifted Angela's face towards his menacing tool, and before she even had a chance to resist, he had slipped his bulbous cockhead past her thick lips. He sighed as his glans slid over her tongue and then continued towards the back of her throat, gripping the sides of her head by the hair and guiding her onto his rod. Her surprise at this disgusting act was surpassed by the sudden jolt of erotic heat as JJ Rod reared back and thrust once, powerfully, into her cunt, the first of many to follow. She yelped around Mr. Cock's length as JJ begin humping against her determinedly, and she choked briefly on the excess saliva developing in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down, noting Mr. Cock's sigh of appreciation at the feeling as her throat muscles closed around his dick. 

Deciding it was best not to risk agitating these men, Angela swallowed again, garnering another sigh of gratification from the brutal pimp. His compatriot picked up the pace of his fucking, causing her own pleasure to skyrocket as his considerably massive pole rubbed against her throbbing clit. She began to enthusiastically lap and suck on the penis in her mouth, slurping around it, humming around it, licking off the extra saliva that drenched it. She ran the tip of her tongue down one of its thick, bulging veins, then around the rim of its head, thrilling at the appreciative sound Mr. Cocks made and the amazing feelings JJ was giving her from behind. For the first time in recent memory, she felt content. Whole. All the stress the summer had put her through, all the worry for her missing friends, all the tension within the Sisterhood, all the frustration with that smarmy rich boy Noah Vale, all the fear of the overarching villainous plan of Mind Fuck... it all evaporated as her body became a fucking machine in harmony with these two pimps and their pleasure-giving tools. 

"Unh! Unh!" she gasped as her body heated up exponentially in the midst of the spit-roasting. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Kid Rotten standing to the side of the table, a sinister grin locked on his face, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, masturbating slowly as he watched. She supposed he would be next. He would have to wait - she wanted desperately to savor the feeling of double penetration while she could.

***

Outside of that sweltering prison, high in the autumn skies above Delta City, Power Lass drifted, cooling off after the tense meeting of the Sisterhood. She felt the warm air of thermal breezes caressing her body through the skintight white latex uniform she wore, over her long, bare legs, rustling her bob of golden hair, and causing her red cape to flap in the breeze. Her large, heavy breasts hung below her, constrained by the tight white outfit that put her impressive cleavage on display. As she drifted lazily, she listened to the city below for any sounds of alarm.

She had passed Delta's highest skyscraper on her way south by the time she heard the sound of police car sirens below her. It sounded like numerous cars heading to a single location, so she began to sink towards the rooftops below her, eyes focusing on the blocks ahead. Eventually she saw the point of interest - a city bus parked across an intersection near the financial district. She increased the speed of her descent until she neared the street level and landed gracefully by the blockade of police cars surrounding the bus.

"What have we got here?" she asked as she landed, looking around to the patrolmen milling around the barricades. They were quiet at first, simply gazing up at this image of a golden goddess descending from on high. Their eyes drifted to her chest first, of course. As always. She repeated her question to them, shaking a few of them out of their daze. Still, some of the officers simply wandered away from her, signaling their own lack of respect towards her. She sighed inwardly - this was a growing trend among the city's police, who had never been outright friendly towards superheroines like her. 

"We got some kinda madman holding a bus full of hostages, Power Chick," said a young policeman. "Says he's got a bomb."

"It's Power Lass," she replied absent-mindedly, eyes turning towards the bus. "Do you need me to intervene?"

"Hey, whatever," he shrugged. "Do what you wanna do."

She turned back to face him, noticed his eyes on her chest, and scoffed. 

"Good to see a policeman so concerned with the safety of the city," she said, then lifted off and floated towards the bus until she was hovering by its doors. She stayed there, arms crossed, waiting. Eventually the doors opened with no word from inside the bus. She stepped inside slowly and found herself face to face with a short, thin man in a ski mask and hockey pads, with an obviously crudely constructed bomb strapped across his chest and waist, a machine pistol in one hand and a detonator in the other. 

"Easy, Power Bitch," he said, leveling his gun at some nearby hostages - a mother and her son. "Don't make any quick moves."

"It's Power Lass," she said through clenched teeth, flexing her blue-gloved fists at her sides. She was already tired with this situation. "What's the problem here?"

"The problem," the terrorist began, and already Power Lass could tell it was going to be a long-winded rant, "is the state of this city. It seems like nowadays everyone forgot what this city used to be. Well, I haven't forgotten. It used to be a city where people made things, a town for people to live in. Now ya got all these politicians trying to control things, trying to make everything go according to their plans. We got a government take over of major neighborhoods, we got a police state out there in the streets... I say enough is enough. Time to introduce a little anarchy--"

He held up the detonator in front of her face, and Power Lass decided the time for negotiation was over. At superhuman speed she reached out and grasped the straps of his hockey pads, then propelled herself upwards, punching a hole through the roof of the bus, dragging the would-be suicide bomber along with her. When she had achieved a satisfactory altitude, she used her super-strength to throw the man into the sky, where in a fit of terror he closed his fist around the detonator and blew himself apart. Power Lass felt the heat from the fireball on her face even from hundreds of feet away, but she smiled as bits of flaming hockey pads rained down around her. 

"Jesus!" she heard a few cops exclaim from below her. Looking down she saw that many had their own guns out and pointed skywards. At her. She growled at the sight, and, disgusted by the weakness and ineffectiveness of the city police, she decided to take her leave. She arced skywards, leaving them to clean up the situation. She was amazed there had been enough spare police to manage a hostage situation anyway - at the rate crime was proliferating in the city, she knew they were spread pretty thin. Though they had been mobilized in record numbers to keep the peace in Sugar Town and citywide, it seemed to Power Lass sometimes that superheroines were the only people left in the city that could be counted on to stand up against corruption and vice in Delta City.

***

"Unh! Unh! Muh! Ah! Ahh! Unh!" Angela Grear cried as she rode Kid Rotten's cock. The pimp sat with a proud expression on his face in the very chair Angela had occupied at the beginning of the meeting, gazing up at the sight of the lovely DA screaming joyously on his lap. Her back was curved, arched to allow her to face skyward and scream her assent to the powerful thrusts he gave her. His hands were on her wide, fleshy hips, and his two pals watched her meaty buttocks bouncing up and down with his rampant thrusts, practically vibrating from the exertion. Her tits flopped invitingly in front of Kid's eyes and he looked up at the debauched woman as she mindlessly humped him.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she yelled, trying desperately to steady herself by placing her hands on Kid's shoulders, lest she get too excited and fall right out of the chair. His cock jack-hammered further and further into her soaked pussy and her cries filled the small, hot room as sweat ran down her body in rivulets. "Unh! Ooohhh... Ohh!"

Kid had just minutes before watched his former competitor JJ Rod empty his ball sack into this hot bitch's cunt, and soon thereafter had seen another former competitor, Mr. Cock, hold her head to his pelvis as he blasted sperm down her throat, forcing her to take his load. Now it was his turn, and he intended to turn this into a marathon fuck. As Angela rode him she could still taste Mr. Cock's sperm, a flavor she shamefully admitted to herself was delicious, despite every lesson in her adult life telling her it was wrong to be treated in such a way. But she had enjoyed it, just as she enjoyed the feeling of JJ's muscles tensing as he slapped her ass viciously and shot his wad. 

"Uhhfuck!" she shouted. "Uugghhfuck! Uggh!!"

Kid only kept thrusting harder, the chair squeaking beneath them on the tile floor, Angela throwing her head back wantonly, her glorious mane of dark hair tossing from side to side as her glorious body let itself be used by him. His hands squeezed her hips, dug into her flesh, slapped her bouncing ass until it was red and hot. Still he kept going, drawing from a seemingly endless well of stamina, pushing her through minute after exhausting minute of the most furious sex of her life. Every frustration and complaint Kid had ever had with the legal system or a superheroine, he was now taking out on this willing tramp's tight, tight pussy. It was brutal and beautiful. A grin was etched on his face as she egged him on.

"Fuck me!" she found herself yelling. Her back arched ever more, and she thrust her tits out into his face. He gladly accepted the mammoth globes and locked his lips and teeth around one nipple, biting and sucking simultaneously. "Uuuurghhfuck me harder!"

Her cunt clung to his rampaging cock, spasming around it as she was driven ever closer to her own orgasm. It was so close, yet so far, and Kid had no intention of giving it to her - he only wanted to drive her crazy and then bust his nut. She breathed in deep, whooping gasps, tears running down her cheeks. 

His strokes became longer, more pronounced, and he began grunting to match her frantic yells and hollers as she rode him. She let go of his shoulders, her arms dangling uselessly at her side as her body shook from the force of his thrusts. Her voice rose to a crescendo, one continuous cry with a staccato rhythm to match the beat of his fucking. 

"Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh," she moaned. "Fuck! Guuhh!! Ahhh!!"

But just as she teetered on the brink of climax, prepared to dive over the edge towards bliss and complete debasement, Kid Rotten suddenly removed Angela from his lap, slipping his cock from her sopping wet snatch and dropping her to the floor.

"C'mere," he growled, standing over her, one hand yanking her by the hair, the other beating his cock furiously.

"I'm gonna fuckin' pass out," Angela murmured in a slurred voice, eyes shut, sweat running down her face. 

"Shh," Kid said. "Shhh."

And then she felt the hot ropes of jism begin to fly over her features, landing on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, on her closed eyelids, on her pursed lips. She opened her mouth to accept the final spurts of Kid Rotten's orgasm as he experienced a pleasure the likes of which she still yearned for. 

But sweet release was not in the cards that day for Angela Grear, only a soul-shattering sexual experience that left her nearly incoherent from heat and exhaustion. She slumped to the floor when Kid released her, her sweaty body slapping to the tile floor. Kid stood above her for a moment then bent down to pick up the papers and folders they had knocked from the table earlier. He and each of his friends signed the required documents, then re-dressed in their tan jumpsuits and left the room.

***

Power Lass had barely soared out of range of the hostage situation when she heard the rumblings of yet another downtown riot. It was midday, hot for this time of the month. She always hoped for peace in the streets on hot days (indeed, on all days), but it seemed she never got her wishes anymore. She shifted direction and angled downwards towards a retail block just a mile ahead of her.

The streets were packed already with rioters, and it seemed they had managed to flip a car already and smashed in numerous storefronts. Power Lass cursed as she descended towards the crowd, noting the complete lack of a police presence on the scene. They had all been drawn to the hostage situation, a far less dangerous job for cops. Hell, they had probably volunteered.

As she soared down over the crowd, Power Lass saw a small, flaming object flying through the air towards her. She easily dodged it, only realizing as it passed what it was: a Molotov cocktail, a bottle of alcohol with a flaming rag stuffed in the top. It crashed against the side of a building as she flew by and exploded into flame. It had been meant for her. Something about that pushed her over the edge.

Screaming in anger, Power Lass dropped straight to the ground feet first, cracking the asphalt in concentric circles around her. The force of her landing caused a small crater and knocked several rioters to the ground. There was a brief, tense moment of silence as the heroine simply stood, upheaved dust settling around her. Then she stepped forward, out of the crater. As she usually did in these situations, she picked a single member of the crowd to be its representative. In this case, it was a middle-aged white man in an undershirt and jeans. 

"You," she said, raising a finger at him. "Return to your home now. All of you-" She raised her voice. "-Return to your homes."

"Hell with that," the man said after a moment, when he realized he was supposed to represent the crowd. "These people ain't just gonna pack up and go home. We're mad as hell!"

Power Lass calmly walked over to the sidewalk and just as calmly seized a parking meter and ripped it out of the pavement like a sapling. She turned and strolled back to face the man, holding the parking meter like a club. Bits of concrete fell from it to the ground.

"Return to your homes," she said once again, through her teeth. "Not a request."

"Fuck you," the man retorted. "Power Cunt."

Before he had gotten the words all the way out of his mouth, the heroine swung the parking meter and connected. With a loud crack, the man lifted off the pavement and hurtled through the air, body broken. He landed sickeningly in a heap twenty yards away and didn't move. 

"It's... Power Lass," she said gravely, tossing the meter into the crowd. "If all of you don't leave right now, you better be prepared for swift and sharp justice. Understand?"

Without waiting for an answer, she lifted off once more and disappeared into the sky.

***

Angela pulled herself off the floor, her head still spinning. In a daze, she stood and hurriedly dressed to the best of her ability, then collected her things and staggered shakily from the room. She did not think to wipe the sperm from her face and so she left the prison that way, traces of cum still dripping off her chin.  Marks denoting her own slutty, wanton behavior. No one stopped this strange, dazed woman as she rushed through the procedures to leave the facility. They simply stared. She wondered: did they know she was a slut?

By the time she reached her car, her head had cleared enough for her to consider what had just transpired more seriously. She threw her briefcase on the passenger seat then sat with her head in her hands. She prepared to wipe the cum from her face but then decided instead to slowly collect it on her fingers, then suck her fingers dry. She shuddered with pleasure as she tasted semen for the second time that day. She told herself it was wrong, but she did not stop until she had swallowed it all.

Perhaps, she thought, some good could come of this. Perhaps the pimps had fucked the frustration out of her system, and she could resume her crime-fighting career with a level head. She could not get back to a normal life.

But as she considered this, she felt a peculiar but familiar tingling in her gut, like butterflies. She shivered and looked down at her own rock-hard nipples poking against the material of her blouse and realized she had not been rid of that lust that now consumed much of her daily life. She had given everything she had to those dirty pimps, but she had gained nothing in return. No peace of mind, and still no merciful orgasm.

Oh, how she yearned for that orgasm. Until she got it, there was no escape from these feelings. No escape. Angela sat in her car and wept.

***

OCTOBER

Noah Vale strode confidently through the chilly autumn air into one of the many waterfront warehouses he owned and operated. At the door, Anita Jackson, formerly the superheroine sidekick known as Got Chic, took his coat from him. He was dressed in an expensive blue business suit - he hardly ever wore the cheesy purple cape that identified him as Mind Fuck anymore, except when on camera. He had taken instead to expensive, executive-style suits that at the same time gave him an impressive air of dignity and showcased his young, innocent face. 

Anita, on the other hand, was dressed in a lacy white negligee and panties, stockings and high heels - the unofficial dress code among his ever-expanding stable of whores. She lowered her head submissively as he stood beside her for a moment, taking in her appearance.

"You've put on a little weight," he said after some consideration.

"Yes, master," she responded in a low voice. "I think it's because I haven't been getting as much exercise since I retired from crime-fighting and moved into my new career."

"Hmm," Noah said. "I would have thought all the constant fucking would keep you toned."

"Yes, well," she smiled. "Sometimes there aren't enough men around to keep us all busy, you know? Your henchmen only have so much stamina, Master, and you can't be expected to fuck us all the time. To take your cock is a special treat, a rarity. A reward."

"I suppose I expected as much," Noah sighed. "Between you and me, those henchmen aren't the best actors either. Sure, there are a lot of them, but sometimes our audience demands a little quality to go with its quantity. Fifty men lining up to violate your old friend Tanya is only exciting so many times."

"That's why you've been hiring professional porn actors to star in our videos, Master?"

The two of them turned to appraise the action taking place in the center of the warehouse. A film set had been constructed there to simulate an indoor parking garage, and one of the actors Anita had been referring to had the former heroine Ms. Americana bent over the tail end of a car. He humped her madly and her wails of joy echoed in the warehouse.

"Yes," he smiled. "I thought we could get some fresh faces in here to mix it up a little bit. You'd be surprised how eager the actors were to star in films with all you heroine-turned-whores. I thought they'd be a bit wary about the whole sex slavery thing, but it's quite the opposite. I'm even getting calls from female porn stars who want roles in our movies."

"It's so exciting, Master," Anita said with a full grin. "I suppose you'll be enslaving those actresses as well?"

"If the mood strikes," he shrugged. "Probably."

They stood for a while, filling the lull in their conversation by watching the woman who had once been considered Delta City's greatest champion getting reamed on a car hood on film. Ms. Americana was hamming it up for her debut with a legitimate pornographic actor - throwing her head from side to side, screaming "Yes" over and over again, spanking herself as his thrusts bucked her against the car - and it was quite a show.

"So," Anita said at last. "I suppose you'll be wanting me to hit the gym a few more times a week from now on in order to lose this weight?"

"Eh, that's okay," Noah said, shrugging again. "Your Aphrodite biology won't let you get too out-of-shape. And in a few months I'll have you working at one of the new brothels down in Sugar Town. You'll be fucking men all day and night once you get in there. Trust me, that'll keep you fit."

"Yes, Master," she nodded, smiling sweetly.

"And besides," he smirked, reaching out to slap her ass playfully. "I like you girls with a little meat on your bones."

She giggled and he smiled at her obvious happiness. He felt proud, in a large way, that he was able to give the heroines such happiness.

"Tell me," he said, lifting his head to peer around the warehouse. "Did that group of Barbie's supermodel friends ever show up for the photo-shoot we arranged?"

"Yes, Master," Anita replied. "They're waiting over in Warehouse 7. It was the only location where we don't currently have crews... filming."

She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the set. The actor now had Ms. Americana fellating him eagerly. Noah could hear the slurps from across the room, and he smiled yet again at the thought of his superheroine bitches all keeping busy.

"Well, I guess I'd better head over to Warehouse 7 and meet the supermodels," he said, taking his coat back from Anita. "I really do like to stay in practice by breaking little minds like theirs. Helps me keep my edge."

"Yes, Master," she said. "Of course, Master."

***

"Sara Kraft is missing," Jungle Babe said. 

"Jesus Christ," Power Lass said, shaking her head ruefully.

"For how long?" asked Angela Grear, leaning forward in her chair. "I haven't spoken to her since last month."

Another meeting of the Sisterhood had commenced with grave news - one more member of their ranks had disappeared without a trace. As usual, Angela sat with Dana, Karen, and Yumi while Axanna stood at the door with a drink in hand. Today Angela had something in common with Axanna - they were the only two not in civilian clothes.

"She and I stay in touch pretty regularly," Dana said, tossing a lock of platinum blonde hair out of her face. "I'm fairly sure she wasn't in the city when it happened. She told me she was going on a trip down to the Amazon on one of her damn fool expeditions. Her plane was supposed to be back by the middle of the month, but it's almost November now and... no sign of Sara."

"So it's possible the expedition is just taking longer than she expected and she's out of cell phone range," Azure Angel suggested.

"Yeah, or it's possible she's a mindless fuckslave by now," Power Lass snorted.

"Easy, Karen, easy," Angela said, but it was a weak attempt at mediation. No longer interested in keeping Power Lass and Jungle Babe from each other's throats, Angela simply sat, staring down at the table as the conversation moved on to problems within the city. She was too busy questioning her own mental stability to debate anyone or inspire them. She heard their voices distantly, as if through a fog.

"It's obvious new gangs are forming and tearing this city apart," Power Lass was saying. "New alliances. We have to be prepared to tackle them head-on."

"And are you suggesting the use of lethal force to do this?" Jungle Babe shot back. "Are we turning this organization into a hit squad? Because that's not what I signed up for."

"I don't know what you're implying," Power Lass began, but Dana cut her off.

"I'm implying that in the last twelve public appearances you've made, there have been over twenty deaths involved. More than fifty serious injuries. You're not responsible for all of them, but you're using questionable methods. I mean, God, Karen, you paralyzed that man in the riot last month from the neck down. What message does that send?"

"Oh, so you're questioning my tactics again. Listen, Dana, I'm the only one who knows what it's like to have this power. I can bend steel in my bare hands. Sorry if I break a few arms while I'm out there protecting the public."

"Protecting? You're frightening more people than you're helping out there! You're turning them all even more against us, and we all know that's not what we need. Breaking arms is one thing, but we all know you're going a little further than that."

As usual, Azure Angel was too nervous and reverent of her heroine idols to add anything into the discussion. Angela too was now silent as her teammates continued to bicker. She didn't have the energy or inclination to raise her voice. She just kept seeing Mr. Cock's massive organ hanging before her face, and she couldn't get rid of the image. And so Power Lass and Jungle Babe let a meeting of the city's protectors devolve into a shouting match until their voices were canceled out by an even louder shriek.

"For God's sake, will you just shut up!" screamed Axanna from the door, dropping her tumbler of Scotch and letting it shatter on the floor. "Can't you see what you're doing?! You're tearing this team apart! Both of you!"

And with that the beautiful blonde millionaire burst into tears and sank to the floor, head in her hands. Karen and Dana at last fell silent and looked awkwardly at Axanna, each other, and their two other teammates. 

"Meeting dismissed," Power Lass said at last in a near whisper. One by one, they left the table and the room, leaving Axanna Morgan to weep silently in her empty home.

***

That night was Halloween, but not many members of the Sisterhood got in the spirit of the night.

Angela Grear finally passed out on her couch after hours of furious, fruitless masturbation that left her exhausted and immensely frustrated. As with nearly every night, she could not achieve orgasm. That didn't stop her from trying, of course. She finally dozed off with four fingers deep in her cunt, which wept but did not offer relief. 

In her other hand she held the remote control for her TV, which blared one of the porn DVDs Mind Fuck had provided her with. She had moaned, screamed, and begged in sync with the film's main actress, the innocent young Jessica Lockhart, aka Amazing Babe, who had disappeared in July. Angela's guilt at watching such a video when she had been so worried for Lockhart's safety after her abduction quickly fell to the wayside as she writhed and groaned along with the well-fucked amateur porn star.

An assortment of sex toys, including dildos, vibrators, anal beads, and nipple clamps sat on the coffee table by Angela's couch. She found she could often get the most pleasure from her fingers as opposed to mechanical devices, but even that was not enough to push her over the edge and give her the climax she sought. So Angela lived day to day with the unending feeling of incompletion, along with the deep shame at the prospect that she was abandoning her superheroine creed of chastity every time she prayed for an orgasm. In her dreams, she was submitting to Mind Fuck or any number of Sugar Town pimps, and receiving climax after climax as a reward, but every morning she woke up to the disappointing reality of her life. Sleep was perhaps her only real escape. So Angela slept.

*

Karen Clark had a similar night planned - she too was plagued by that deep desire for an unattainable orgasm, and though her own erotic frustration was not as severe as Angela's, it was enough to bring the iron-willed woman to tears.

"Fuck it!" the mild-mannered nurse exclaimed as she collapsed to the floor in her apartment, tearing her pants off and thrusting her hand into her pussy, super-powered fingers ripping through her underwear to plunge into the hot wetness between her legs. She had flown home from work in her street clothes after her shift at the hospital instead of taking the subway as usual, such was her hurry. The sexual desire she felt was so commanding and unrelenting that it was beginning to affect her performance at work. Karen found herself fantasizing about every doctor or male nurse she saw, and twice in the last week she had considered stripping down and sucking off one of the comatose male patients she cared for in the late night hours. 

It disturbed Karen to find herself having such thoughts. She had always considered herself the most resilient of her superheroine comrades, the least in need of a man. But now she found that she needed one more than anything else. 

She fell to her knees on the floor in her living room, clad only in her pink nurse's smock, knuckle-deep in her own vagina. 

"Uuuuuhhhgawd," she moaned, then crawled over to her own coffee table and picked up her own remote control, hurriedly flipping on the TV and turning on whatever porn DVD she had left in from the night before. Then she simply sat back against the coffee table and strummed her clit ruthlessly. "Ooooonnnnhhhh."

Unlike Angela, Karen found she could not simply finger-fuck herself into a deep sleep. Her cunt burned for fulfillment but behind that sensation was a burning anger and fury towards the man who had orchestrated the sexual debasement of some of her close friends. When images of Mind Fuck popped into her head, she did not imagine herself fucking him, but rather yearned to beat him to a pulp. 

And so Karen mightily withdrew her fingers from her pussy, dragged herself off the floor, turned off her television, and strode into the bedroom. There, she threw open her closet door and revealed the only costume she would be masquerading in that Halloween night: the uniform of Power Lass. 

Halloween was a prime night for crime and arson, Karen told herself as she squeezed into her uniform and donned her bright red cape. She buckled her belt and pulled on her blue boots and gloves, swearing that she would not return home until those gloves were read with the blood of the scum of the city. Standing at her bedroom window, she adjusted her breasts within her low-cut white outfit a final time, until she was comfortable with the amount of stupendous cleavage she had put on display. Then she opened the window and soared into the night sky. 

*

The Azure Angel decided, like Power Lass, to distract herself from her own growing sexual desire by heading out into the night to fight crime. She did not manage to encounter many criminals, however; she only came upon a group of middle school-aged boys who were spraying graffiti in the Lowdowns. They fled on sight, and Yumi Wong stalked across the city's rooftops for the rest of Halloween night without incident. Though she was disappointed at her own obvious ineffectiveness, Yumi was secretly thrilled that she had managed to get by for another night without being abducted and enslaved. It was a sad state of affairs, she thought privately, when the bottom line was sheer survival.

*

Dana McQueen sat alone in her executive office on the top floor of he McQueen Corporation's downtown offices. She decided to forego any crimefighting activity that night, putting away the loincloth and leopard-print bikini she wore as Jungle Babe and opting for a conservative tan power suit. She sat at her massive desk, poring over documents regarding the financial holdings and personal history of Noah Vale, the man she and the rest of the Sisterhood strongly suspected was truly Mind Fuck. 

Every once in a while she would sit back and contemplate the fate of her old friend Sara Kraft. Finally, late into the night, Dana reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out the stack of porn DVDs she had been provided with by their sneering opponent. She sorted through them, feeling her heart sink as she wondered if Sara would soon be starring in films like these. Still, she couldn't help eliciting a chuckle at the names of some of the films.

"Flag Girl's Anal Extravaganza," she said out loud, shaking her head in disbelief. "Champion Girl Swallows her Fill... Ms. Americana vs. The Climax Bandits... The Best of Mind Fuck Facials, Volume 1... Super-Powered Spit Roast... Jessica Lockhart: Bukkake Babe... Barbie Cummings: Cumming on Cummings"

Just the thought of Sara taking part in one of those monstrosities made Dana sick to her stomach. She couldn't believe the Sisterhood hadn't taken Noah Vale down yet. She hadn't been a member that long, and even she saw clearly what was necessary. Some strong-armed diplomacy, and if that didn't work, then vigilante force was acceptable. There was nothing the legal system could or would do, especially in Delta. And all her teammates in the Sisterhood were either spineless or crazy.

Dana McQueen decided, late that Halloween night, that it was up to her to resolve the situation with Noah Vale. Her and her alone.

*

Every year, Axanna Morgan usually opened up the front gates to her property and allowed trick-or-treaters to come right up to the door of her mansion. Every year, that is, except for this one. The loss of her daughter was enough to sap anything resembling holiday spirit out of her body. So she was understandably surprised when she heard the doorbell chiming at close to midnight on Halloween.

Axanna had been watching old videos of family vacations because she could not bring herself to watch any of the videos she received starring her daughter. She was halfway through a tall bottle of gin when the doorbell rang. She looked over to the door in surprise, then fumbled to pick up the remote and pulled herself off her plush couch. She smoothed her cornflower blue sundress over her heavy breasts and flat stomach as she stumbled to the door.

"I'm afraid - hic - I don't have any candy for you," she said with a drunken smile as she opened the door, but when she looked outside to see who was there, she found herself speechless.

"M-mom," Summer Morgan stuttered, falling forward into her mother's arms. Axanna stood, stiff, a look of profound shock on her face. Her mouth and eyes were wide, face staring straight forward even as her daughter crumpled to her knees below her. Summer wrapped her arms around her mother's legs, sobbing into the cottony softness of her sundress. "Mom..."

A few moments later, the barely-walking Axanna helped her weakened daughter over to the couch, muting the television. She was trying to sober up for the occasion, but she had ingested plenty of alcohol that night and found it difficult to keep a clear head.

"I... I don't understand," Axanna said, eyeing over her daughter. "You're... saying you escaped?"

Summer was dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing when her mother last saw her - a tight, pine green t-shirt that hugged her full young figure, khaki short-shorts, plain sneakers and long athletic socks - but her clothes were tattered and torn, she had scratches and bruises up and down her graceful arms and legs, her face looked weary, and her long brown hair was messy and disheveled. She sat on the couch beside her mother, staring into the distance dully. Axanna felt as if she'd seen a ghost.

"It was horrible, mother," the girl said after a long pause. "They... they touched me... They made me feel..."

Axanna felt tears swelling in her eyes as she watched her daughter shiver before her, watched her relive the horrible treatment she had no doubt received in nearly four months of sexual slavery. She was amazed Summer looked as good as she did.

"It's okay now, darling," Axanna said, leaning forward to hug Summer. "It's okay. You're home now. No one will take you from me ever again."

Summer smelled the booze thick on her mother's breath.

"They d-did things," the girl stuttered. "All of them... Brenda... Lydia... Oh, God!"

"I know, Summer... I've heard about the videos... But I never watched them... Do you hear me? I - hic - never watched one."

Summer pulled away from the hug, wiping her eyes. 

"You... you didn't...?"

"No, dammit - you're my daughter!"

"Oh, Mother," Summer said, raising a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Mother, I thought I'd never see you again!"

With that she collapsed into another weeping fit, burying her tear-soaked face in her mother's bosom. She shook violently with sobs and Axanna brought her arms up cradle Summer's head, rocking back and forth in an alcohol-fueled daze. Though she was doing her best to console Summer, she was having a hard time believing that any of this wasn't a dream or a hallucination.

As Summer pressed her face against her mother's chest, she realized her own tears were not the only thing making the front of the blue sundress damp. Spots of wetness were appearing on her mother's breasts, growing and spreading noticeably with every second. Looking up, the girl saw that Axanna's face was a mask of dull pleasure. All at once, she realized what was happening - her mother was lactating.

Her hands crept around to her mother's back, even as she continued feigning her sobs. Axanna took no notice - she was too concentrated on comforting her frantic daughter, and besides that far too drunk. So it was with relative ease and no protest from her mother that Summer slowly unzipped the back of Axanna's dress, then reached up to her shoulders and pulled down the straps. Bit by bit, she lowered the dress, revealing her mother's gorgeous, swelling breasts. The cups of her mother's silk brassiere were already soaked with traces of the milk that churned within her mammaries.

Summer smiled to herself as she reached around again and unhooked her mother's bra, then repeated the process of lowering straps over Axanna's shoulders, pulling them down to her elbows. Along with the dress' straps, this kept her mom's arms restrained at her side. Still, even as Summer pulled the cups down, revealing her mother's full breasts and puffy, pink nipples, Axanna could muster no resistance - she merely made a low sound, beneath her breath, a soft moan that could have been either refusal or consent.

So Summer pushed her mother back gently but forcefully on the couch, then crawled on top of her and observed her mother's perfect breasts. Before her eyes, two drops of the thick, warm milk she could already smell gathered atop those rigid, erect nipples. Summer's face lit up and she lowered her head, closing her lips around one.

"Hooooonnnhhh," Axanna moaned in a low voice as Summer began a gentle suckling. Even if she had been sober and lucid enough to resist, the pleasure of her daughter's ministrations on her nipple was great enough to put all her concerns to rest. After all, there was nothing more natural than a child nursing from its mother. So Summer nursed, sucking more and more of her mother's engorged nipple and aureola into her mouth, her cheeks concave as her tongue swiped over the tip, drawing a steady stream of tasty Aphrodite milk. She made quiet sucking sounds, eyes closed in concentration as the same liquid she had fed on as an infant filled her mouth. She brought a hand up to massage and squeeze Axanna's soft, malleable tit, manipulating it expertly, earning an ever-increasing flow in return.

"Mmmmm," Summer hummed contentedly, the vibrations sending a sudden rush of excitement through Axanna's body. Goosebumps rose on her arms and her head fell backward, her own eyes shut, face locked in an expression of rapture, eyes shut, lips pursed. Those lips moved slowly, silently, occasionally releasing short gasps or moans as she was nursed from.

Summer's actions became more passionate and insistent - she sucked harder, squeezed harder, teeth grazing over the nipple then clamping down on it, eliciting a strained groan from her mother. Summer smiled as she chewed gently on the nipple, feeling her mother above her tossing her head back and forth in ecstasy. It had been so long since Axanna had felt such careful, loving attention given to her body. So long. Her thoughts were clouded by the alcohol she had consumed and the pleasure her daughter was giving her. As that thought - Dear God, this was her daughter! - threatened to pervade her mind and shake her out of her stupor, Summer's free hand came up to grip Axanna's untouched second breast and began to squeeze, caress, pinch, and rub, adding a new dimension to the pleasure. 

Such was the bliss that Axanna forgot all about the perverse nature of this sexual coupling, bringing up her own hand to hold the back of her daughter's head, pulling Summer from one nipple to the other, where she started all over again. Summer let herself be moved, taking pride in a job well done as she felt her mother's fingers running lovingly through her hair. 

"Oh, baby," Axanna said in a hushed voice, eyes closed, neck craned back. "Oh, I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, Momma," Summer said sweetly with her mouth around a nipple. She swiped her tongue in a circle around the rim of the aureola, then pushed her face hard into the nipple, squashing her mother's firm mammary against her chest. 

"Suck me, baby," Axanna gasped. "Drink from me."

Summer swallowed the milk as it came, nibbling or licking to gain more. Axanna urged her on, more and more enthusiastically, and Summer was always ready to work harder for her momma. 

"Haaaahhh," Axanna hissed, smiling widely. "That's it. That's it, you naughty girl, do it! Bite my nipple! Suck me!"

Summer took this outpouring of emotion as her cue to take the action to the next level. Even as she fiercely sucked one of her mother's nipples, her free hand detached itself from the other tit and dove down, lifting up that cornflower blue dress and reaching inside in a single motion. She felt her mother's body tense as she cupped her pussy under the dress and began a slow rubbing through the lace of her panties. But Axanna relaxed as Summer redoubled her efforts on her teat and the sensations below her waist transformed into liquid heat of pure pleasure. Irresistible pleasure.

Gradually Summer worked her hand inside her mother's panties, enjoying the feeling of skin on skin as her resolute fingers met the soft, yielding flesh of Axanna's cunt. She was reminded of all the times since her enslavement that she'd touched and tasted the cunts of other fallen superheroines, her mother's friends and allies. She remembered how even from the first time, she felt comfortable with other female genitalia, so much like her own. Now it was her mother's cunt she had her hand on. She had perverted the sacred act of nursing and her mother had gone along with it, and now she was taking it further by pushing her fingers into the canal that had given birth to her. Master commanded it. And she could not deny her master.

It was so hot. So wet. So tight, even after all these years. Axanna groaned, shuddered as she spread her legs and adapted to this new development. Summer grew ever more confident, fingering Axanna, her thumb seeking out her mother's clitoris and rubbing it.

"Gnaaaaahhh," Axanna moaned aloud, lifting her hips slightly, pushing her twat against her daughter's hand. "Oh, baby. Oh, baby."

It was all she could say, albeit over and over again as Summer feasted on her tit and fingered her with growing intensity: "Oh, baby. Oh, baby." She was lost now, far over the edge, and she didn't even know it yet. Her surrender had come mercifully and immediately; she was already lost when Summer fell through her front door just fifteen minutes earlier. Her old life was over, and when her head was clear enough to analyze it, she would be grateful. For she would never feel alone again, never again feel the sting of knowing her daughter lived in servitude while she was free. 

Suddenly, though her eyes were closed, Axanna felt the presence of someone else in the room. Her eyes forced themselves open and she blinked in the light. The home videos she had been watching were still playing on the television, but that was not what she noticed. Instead, she noticed the five or so men standing around her, all with video cameras on their shoulders. All but one.

"H-how long have you been here?" she asked nervously, face contorting with worry even as the ecstasy her daughter was giving her shone through.

"Long enough to get all the interesting parts on tape," said the sole man without a camera. He was completely naked, save for a rich purple cape and cowl. She knew immediately who he was and why he had come. It was her turn. She felt an eerie calm fall over her. Summer, meanwhile, never ceased drinking heavily from her mother, never looked up. Axanna could feel her daughter smile against her breast, however, the corners of her lips curling up, drops of precious milk escaping.

Axanna gazed down at Mind Fuck's sizable erection, the tool with which he had dominated so many of her friends. She could imagine it wasn't hard to do with a dick like that. She had never felt such an attraction to a man's penis, even her husband's. But this... this was a beautiful cock. He had fisted it into a state of rigid erection already, and it dripped pre-cum copiously onto her floor. Then Mind Fuck stepped forward and climbed onto the couch, and the pre-coital fluid dripped onto her upholstery. 

She was sitting at an angle, slumped on the couch, legs stretched out onto the ground. She was at a perfect height for Mind Fuck to take hold of her wavy blonde hair and draw her head close to the erection she found herself already adoring. She could not resist. Didn't want to. With her thick, pink lips only a few inches from the bloated head of his rod, she gazed up at him with an odd look - something between hatred, lust, and anticipation.

"Suck me," he said down to Axanna, repeating the words she had only a few minutes earlier spoken to her daughter. "Drink from me."

***

NOVEMBER

Angela Grear stood alone in the lobby of one of the city's newest rehabilitation centers. She was visiting it in an advisory capacity as the city's DA. Though she had questioned the chief doctor thoroughly, she had found nothing to suggest that the Sugar Town Rehabilitation Project was any dirtier than its bright, whitewashed, antiseptic facade its rehab centers presented. She was waiting for the doctor to return from his office with some literature she could look over to learn more about Senator Noah Vale's pet project. The lobby was by far the busiest part of the whole building - men and women with dirty clothes and faces came and went, talking to the large group of receptionists who filled the front office. Phones rang, voices chattered. It was a little disorienting. She looked around nervously, adjusting the collar of her gray sweater, flattening wrinkles out of her tight blue jeans.

"Hey," said a voice amidst the din. She ignored it, but then it repeated itself, louder. "Hey."

She turned around and found herself looking down at an unassuming, unattractive man in a heavy coat which only added to his bulk and thick, black-rimmed glasses. He smiled up at her from behind those glasses. He was scuzzy looking, and she felt a bit of revulsion as she looked over him. 

"I know you," he said, grinning as if he'd won a prize. "I know you."

Angela simply looked down at him in silence. She wasn't sure whether to disregard him and turn away, but he had caught her attention.

"You're the DA," he said, wagging a knowing finger at her. "Foxy Grear."

"Angela Grear," she corrected him. 

"Sure," he said. "Foxy Angela Grear. Shit, I heard about you."

She had an idea where this was going. She gulped once, turned to look for Dr. Sparks. He had yet to return. She had no friends in this room.

"I used to pimp a few girls down by the docks," he said, still grinning proudly. "Nothing much. I stayed far away from Sugar Town, and I was too small for the police to mess with me, even with all the shit going down recently. Then, last week, three men came to me, told me they represented the Sugar Town Rehab Project, that I was a prime candidate for an administrative position if I just came down here and signed up."

Angela had a pretty good idea who those three men were.

"And those three guys, they told me a pretty wild story," the man said, cocking his head. "Told me about how they got out of prison scot free, and got to have a little party with that hot piece-of-ass district attorney while they were at it. They told me she was easy - told me she begged for it."

Angela began to sweat. Even as she grew more nervous and fearful of this man, the erotic feelings that never fully left her body were kicking into overdrive as she remembered that day she had gladly surrendered her body to three disgusting pimps. In comparison, they were royalty compared to this filthy slug. 

"'Zat story true?" he asked, looking up at her, completely serious now. "Sounds too good to be true to me."

Angela realized her dignity was on the line. She could easily lie to this man, shrug him off and turn away, wait for the doctor to return in silence on the opposite side of the room from this disgusting man. But she could not deny her own behavior, behavior which shamed her and degraded her in the eyes of a man who deserved none of her respect.

"Yes," she said, lowering her head, eyes on the floor. "It's all true."

"God damn!" he exclaimed his knee and rocking in his chair with joy. "I knew it! I knew a bitch that looks like you has gotta love getting fucked."

She flinched at this dirty, unforgiving word. Fucked.  

"Listen," he said, standing up to get a better look at her. He moved in close, eyes roving over her face. She could smell his rancid breath. "I got a question for you."

"What do you want," she said, trying to muster some courage even as her body began to betray her. "An autograph?"

"Hell no," he chortled. "I want a piece."

"What?" she said, face twisting in mortification, eyes wide. 

"You heard me. I want a little of what them other guys got. Nothin' much, just a little blowjob. See, those three big-shot pimps told me that before long, they was gonna have you working in one of these shiny new city whorehouses. Suckin' and fuckin' like there's no tomorrow. All I want is a preview."

"Eugh!" Angela replied. "They told you that?!"

"Yes ma'am," he said, nodding. "Now what do you say?"

"I say no," she said immediately, but she was too depressed to be mortified anymore. She simply hung her head, wondering whether the pimps were right. How long would it be before she fell, just like her best friends? If it was inevitable, then nothing mattered anyway.

"C'mon," the man said, reaching out and stroking her arm. "If what them fellas told me is true, you want it just as bad as I do."

She was silent, eyes on the floor. Defeated, yet again. She had no arguments left inside her. No defiance.

"Jus' one lil' BJ," he said gently. "We can go in one of the back rooms. Won't take but a few minutes."

With tears in her eyes, Angela looked one final time to the doorway where she had last seen the doctor before he went back to his office. She wished for him to reappear and gift her with an excuse to leave, to flee this horrid place. But he did not. The pimp's arm crept up her arm, over her back. With a little push, he prodded her forward and then walked with her, arm around her shoulder, towards the entrance to the admission clinic she had been inspecting a few minutes before. She said nothing. 

They left the lobby, and a moment later the doctor re-entered. He looked around quizzically, eyebrows raised, but could not find the woman he had just been speaking with.

"Ms. Grear?" he said, scratching his head.

Angela and the pimp moved swiftly past the hospital beds, then went into the back hallway she had seen earlier. The man checked the doors to the private rooms, but they were locked. So he and Angela walked down the hallway towards the cafeteria. It, like the admission clinic, was spotless and ready for use - tables and chairs lined the room.

"Perfect," the man said, closing and locking the doors behind them. He then stood for a moment, inspecting the place, before removing his jacket, tossing it to the floor, and pulling out a chair which he dropped himself on to. He then looked up at Angela expectantly, eyes and smile both wide.

"What... what's your name?" she asked meekly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"What the fuck's it matter?" he responded, gesturing to his crotch. "Fuckin' get on with it."

"Listen, just... I should at least know your name," she said, fighting back tears. "At least give me that."

"Okay," he said after a moment's consideration. He shrugged. "That's fine. Name's Vinnie. Vinnie Divici. Friends call me Specs."

Knowing this man's name, making him something more than a complete stranger, did little to comfort Angela. She was still disgusted with herself and her situation, but she realized that she was simply no longer strong enough to escape. Sure, she still possessed the uncanny physical powers of an Aphrodite female... but mentally she  had absolutely no fortitude. She stood before him, unsure what to do, practically twiddling her thumbs. She bit her lower lip and hugged herself.

"Well...?" Specs said, gesturing yet again. Her gaze was drawn to his groin - she could just make out the outline of a steadily growing penis. She felt her guts tighten in fear and anticipation, and found herself sinking to her knees, trembling. 

"Take the shirt off," Specs said, holding up his hand. "You look like you got some sweet sweater kittens under there. Gimme a look-see."

Angela hesitated for a moment, then disregarded any remaining feelings of wavering uncertainty and gripped the bottom of her gray sweater. She lifted upwards, exposing her taut, muscular brown abdomen, then peeled the fabric over her generous bust and finally over her head. She knelt before this man she had just met, feeling his ravenous eyes roam over her upper body, her deep cleavage constrained within a pink bra. Beyond the uncertainty, she felt a strong sense of personal pride that her sizable charms could draw such praise from men like Specs. Usually, throughout her superheroine career, she had been content to using her breasts and looks as a distraction, proof that the weaker sex would always be stopped cold by her physical beauty and superiority. Now, she understood that her body was merely a toy, a possession to be used by whatever man wanted it. And Specs wanted her now.

She crawled forward until she found herself between his legs, then looked up and gave him her best sultry look. He sat back, grinning as she reached up and unbuckled his belt.

"That's it," he said, tensing in anticipation. She gained confidence, swiftly undoing his pants, zipping down his fly and spreading it. She reached inside, no longer trembling. Her fingers slipped inside his boxers, wrapped around the shaft of his cock with natural ease, and withdrew it. 

She studied the uncircumcised penis before her. Specs was not a spectacularly well-endowed man, but that didn't matter anymore. Angela's insatiable hunger for cock had pushed her beyond the point of no return. She ran her fingers up and down the shaft, pressing down on its veins, testing its rigidity. She caught the foreskin between her thumb and forefinger then pulled it back, exposing the thick pink glans. The smell of unwashed cock hit her nostrils but she was too far gone. She watched, rapt, as a single drop of pre-cum ran down the length of his slit, gathering on the end of her thumb. She brought her hand to her lips and sucked it off.

"Mmmm," she said, smacking her pouting lips then smiling up at Specs. Once again she wrapped her hand around his length, then leaned forward and swallowed him. The head of his dick passed her lips, slid over her tongue, and hit the back of her throat in the same second, and then she was working her throat muscles, massaging him with her gag reflex. Specs caught his breath. Even he had not expected such enthusiasm from the woman kneeling before him, but as he felt Angela humming against his cock, he lost control and let out a loud guffaw, almost a guttural bark. His hands shot to her head and clutched her hair as his hips thrust involuntarily into her face.

Angela made gagging sounds as his shaft eased further down her throat, her nose pushed deep into his tangle of pubic hair. The taste and the smell was not enough to deter her, strong as it was. She stayed dutifully attached as Specs thrust into her, moaning and groaning from the feeling of outstanding suction.

"Uuuggh," he grunted, sliding sideways in his chair, legs shaking. "Ugh, fuck that's good... Yeah... That's... That's it, baby... Fuck... Fuck. I didn't... didn't expect... never thought..."

Drool escaped from Angela's mouth, dripping down into the folds of fat surrounding his protruding penis. Specs, too, was drooling, humping against this wonderful whore's talented mouth. 

"Uhmygod," he gasped. "Oh. Oh."

Angela was far beyond caring now about her dignity or anything else besides the cock. She slipped back into the routine of slut easily, and Specs was grateful. She pulled his cock out of her throat at last, removing it from her mouth. Strand after strand of thick saliva hung between her smiling lips and his swollen erection as she jacked him with dramatic emphasis, pounding on his dick without remorse. Then, without a word, she leaned down again and drew his glans into her mouth. 

Specs howled in delight as Angela's cheeks went concave and she sucked mightily upon his dickhead, her tongue flicking against it wildly. She knew instinctively how to make him scream. He was, after all, just a normal man. Mr. Cock, JJ Rod, Kid Rotten, they were all masters of their domain. Trained in the art of lovemaking, and beyond that the art of slut-breaking. There were little sexual techniques they were unexposed to. But Specs was little more than a poser. He was much easier to impress.

Angela's pride swelled as she heard Specs crying out in ecstasy, felt him thrashing about above her. His hands lost their hold on her head and went to the edges of his chair - he had to hold himself down or risk sliding onto the cafeteria floor. The large room filled with the sounds of his pleasure, and the determined slurping of Angela on his rod. 

She let him thrust into her mouth over and over, with increasing speed and intensity, and she realized he was nearing an orgasm. She pulled back sharply to avoid this, but it was already too late. His dick slid back over her tongue and her thick lips, and that was enough. Specs groaned deeply as he came, and Angela could only watch as he gripped his saliva-slick cock and aimed downwards, drawing a few white lines of his cum on the rich brown flesh of her cleavage. As his body shook with the last dregs of coitus, he smeared his dick over that soft skin, decorating her with his jism. When he was finished, he tucked his unimpressive, limp length back into his pants and zipped up. He leaned over to get his coat, preparing to go.

"Wait," Angela said, kneeling below him pathetically with the remnants of his orgasm still painted on her bra-clad tits. "I thought... thought you might..."

"What?" he asked irritably, standing up. She stayed kneeling.

Angela looked down in shame.

"I... I need to cum," she admitted. "I hoped you would..."

"Hoped I would what?" he asked with a scoff. "Give you a nice, long fuck? Eat you out? I don't think so - I've got places to be."

"But... I gave you my all! You can't just leave!" she pleaded up at him, tears in her eyes.

"Huh," he grunted. "Welcome to the life of a whore, darlin'."

With that, he stalked off. Angela knelt, listening to the doors slamming and his footsteps fading down the hallway outside. Once again, orgasm had escaped her. She had been foolish to think, even for a second, a man would be so kind as to think of her pleasure. She collected the cum left on her chest and ate it hungrily, but it was a bittersweet taste. The need for an orgasm was driving her insane. That much was obvious. And there was no cure in sight. 

***

The last meeting of the Sisterhood took place a week later. It was a brisk day, and dark. Clouds blotted out the weak November sun, but the city was quiet. They met atop the McQueen Corporation building - it seemed wrong to meet at Axanna's mansion - their good friend had disappeared the month before with no warning, and a search had yielded nothing, as usual. So the four heroines met on a rooftop. Only Power Lass was clad in a superheroine uniform - the rest of them had stayed in their civilian identities. 

"Something's gone wrong," Angela said, shaking her head as they huddled atop the skyscraper. "Something went so horribly wrong, somewhere along the line. I don't even know when it was - I don't know what I could have done to prevent all this."

"Nothing lasts forever," Dana replied wistfully.

"You all sound beaten," Power Lass growled. "I can't stand it."

"Wake up, Karen," Dana said. "You are beaten. You think you can still fight this thing? You think it hasn't already won? Tell that to Axanna."

With a sharp crack, Power Lass slapped Dana across the face and knocked her down. Yumi stepped between them, but Power Lass wasn't looking to beat anyone up. She was simply frustrated. She stood back, arms crossed as Dana wiped blood from her chin.

"You superheroines," Dana said. "You're all fools. You go out there and beat up some muggers, toss around some gang-bangers, and you think you're fighting the good fight. You haven't done anything. You haven't saved this city. He has."

"What are you talking about?" Power Lass asked.

"Whether you like him or not, Noah Vale has cleaned up Sugar Town. He's done it. He's fixed the problem you were ready to devote your whole life to fighting. In less than a year."

"Yeah, by taking it over!" The buxom blonde heroine retorted. 

"Everything is run by someone," Dana replied, pulling herself off the ground. "Why not him? You can't prove he's Mind Fuck - you can't prove anything about him!"

Angela kept quiet. She had heard Mr. Cock refer to Noah Vale in an incriminating way on the day he and his compatriots had fucked her so well. It was clear from the way the pimp had mentioned Vale that the senator was indeed the mastermind behind everything. But Angela no longer had the will to do anything about it.

"And meanwhile," Dana continued, "The riots have stopped. The crime wave is over - crime is at an all time low. And Sugar Town is a safe place to go again. So tell me, 'Power Lass' - why do you even need to exist anymore?"

Karen was obviously crushed. He proud shoulders slumped and she looked at Dana, then Angela, with a defeated face. When it was obvious that Angela would not come to her defense, Power Lass stepped away from the group.

"This city will always need us," the chesty heroine said. "There was a time when we all believed that. All of us; Brenda, Tanya, Axanna... all of us. Just because they're gone, doesn't mean we shouldn't keep trying."

There was no response. Dana simply shook her head.

"And nothing from you, Angela?" Power Lass reached out to her friend. Angela looked away. 

"Yumi?" The young Asian college student, too, looked away.

"Fine," was all Power Lass said, and then she floated away from them, and was gone on the wind.

***

After saying her farewells and wishing the best to Angela and Yumi, Dana McQueen returned to her spacious office. She had a meeting later that morning... with Senator Noah Vale.

"So glad you could make it," the gorgeous environmentalist said as she greeted him at the door, hand outstretched. 

"Pleasure's all mine," he replied with an equally charming smile. She could not help notice his eyes roving over her body as he shook her hand. But she had to admit, she did look stunning. 

The tall, perfect frame and outrageous curves of Dana McQueen's body were squeezed into a bright red power suit that contrasted with her brilliant shock of platinum blonde hair. Her face was made up to perfection with lipstick to match the suit, and rubies hung from her ears. Her blazer was tight across her bust and emphasized her spectacular cleavage, barely hidden by the low-cut black blouse she wore. Pearls decorated her neck, and her red skirt was perhaps a bit too short, showcasing her magnificent stockinged legs. She'd finished the look with glimmering red heels. It made her feel strong to look sexy. It made her feel powerful.

They entered her office and she sat behind her massive desk, offering the senator a seat.

"Mr. Vale, Mr. Vale..." she said, settling into her chair. "My, you certainly have been busy this past year."

"Whew, tell me about it," he said, flashing a confident smile. 

"I find your activities in Sugar Town particularly interesting," she began.

"Please," he interrupted, leaning forward slightly. "Don't call it Sugar Town. We're working on a bit of a re-branding of that particular district. Trying to shed the old image, you know? We're asking that people refer to it as Alpha Town for the time being. Maybe it'll stick, maybe not."

"Okay," she said slowly. "You're aware your actions within Alpha Town will lead to a drastic drop in venereal disease cases within Delta City, a drastic drop in drug abuse, and a drastic drop in crimes against women?"

"Well, those were certainly among my goals," he said, shrugging. 

"I understand you were involved in the recent pardoning of Erica Sambino," Dana said. "Which I can only presume has led to the end of the crime wave we've been through."

"Yes," Noah replied. "I had a little chat with my friend the governor, and he agreed a pardon was in order for Miss Sambino and any of her lieutenants who were ready to step in line with the new order."

"The new order...?" she asked.

"Well, Miss Sambino has taken back the reigns of crime boss in this city, and then some," Noah said. "Most of the other bosses have fizzled out or died, so she's basically running the drug trade in this city and any other form of vice you care to mention. She delegates to her loyal lieutenants, just like I delegate to her."

"Let me get this straight... You're Erica Sambino's boss?"

"Yes. I tell her to keep the streets safe and to work with the police when I say so, and the city runs with Swiss precision."

"How do you know you can trust her?"

"Well... I made her my slave, of course."

"Ah," Dana said. "Now we're getting down to it. So then you are the villain called Mind Fuck."

He laughed out loud. "I wouldn't call myself a villain, Dana. Don't forget all those crime factoids you just read off. But yes, Mind Fuck is my... on-screen identity."

"Uh-huh." She nodded. "Just wanted to clear that up."

"Of course." He showed no sign of nervousness - he kept completely calm, as if they were discussing sports scores. She admired that about him. Plus, he was cute.

"So, let me see," she said, picking up a sheet of paper from her desk. "By my count, that means you're responsible for the sexual enslavement of... nine Delta City heroines."

"Delta heroines?" he asked. "Yeah, give or take. There've been quite a few heroines over the years; I lose count. But at last count I guess it's nine Delta heroines. Not to mention all the supermodels and actresses and the girls at that debutante ball I crashed in the spring... And the entire squad of the Delta City College cheerleaders. Oh, and make sure you're not forgetting Sara Kraft."

Dana froze. She had still been hoping against hope that her longtime friend Sara would be returning from the Amazon sometime soon. She had not known many of the other heroines too well, but Sara was a true friend.

"Did you say... Sara Kraft?" she asked, trying to keep her cool in the face of the cold dread falling over her.

"Yes," he replied, still perfectly calm and nonchalant. "Surely you've noticed she's gone missing as well? I don't credit you Aphrodite women with an abundance of brains, but..."

"Where is she?" Dana interjected.

"I arranged through some back channels to inform Sara of an important expedition down on the Brazilian/Venezuelan border. She jumped at the opportunity without checking all her contacts first. It wouldn't have been obvious to her that I was connected to the ruse, but I organized it. Just like I organized for a group of Amazon tribesmen to greet her when she got off the plane."

"Amazon tribesmen...?" Dana was confused and frustrated with Vale's constant calm.

"Mm-hm," he replied, nodding earnestly. "Some little clan she pissed off a few years ago by stealing a big precious gem from the chieftain's headdress... It's not really the most interesting story. The point is, they captured her and fucked her dumb. Last I heard they're still enjoying her company. She probably isn't having that bad a time herself. When I decide the time is right, I'll send some people down to fetch her and bring her back to Delta. She could sell a few films, I'm sure."

"I... I..." Dana stammered. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Nope," he said. 

"Why... why did you decide to send her to South America to break her? I'm just wondering..."

"Well, you and I both know how trigger-happy she is," he said. "That made me a bit nervous. I really don't care if some tribesman catches a slug in his gut, but I wasn't about to sacrifice any of my own men to take her down. Don't worry. She'll make up for the time she's missed."

"Wow," Dana said, breathing a huge sigh. "You're quite a man, Noah Vale."

"Thanks." He shot her that winning smile again. "I get that a lot."

"Why do you do it?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Why do you do it? Why have you done this? Enslaved, raped, fucked your way through just about every heroine in this town. Why?"

Noah looked at her for a long moment with a strange look on his face, something like bemusement.

"Why does anyone do anything?" he said at last. "Sorry. Maybe that sounds a little too cryptic. Tell me this: why does a spider build its web?"

"Instinct," she replied quickly.

"Exactly," he said. "Because he was born to do it. That spider was born with all the knowledge he needed to get by in life. He was put here for a reason, and he fills that role."

"Catching flies?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't want to push the metaphor too far," he said, always smiling, "I'm just trying to make a point - some people are born to do something. My biology is such that I was born to enslave women. And the most desirable women are women like you, like Sara Kraft. Aphrodites. So you're the ones I'm after. It is my purpose in life to enslave you, and I truly believe it's your purpose to be enslaved. To mate with me. To bear my children. That is your role. I'm speaking in the general sense, of course, this isn't just aimed at you."

"Of course," she said, chilled to the bone by his candor.

"Well, you hardly seem enthusiastic about the whole concept," he said, grinning.

"You're talking about the subversion of free will, Mr. Vale," she responded.

"Free will is an illusion, Dana," he said, suddenly serious. "Go talk to that spider about free will, I'm sure he thinks he's a rogue in his own way. Better yet, go talk to Brenda Wade, or Tanya O'Donnel, or Anita Jackson. They've never been happier, and they're all slaves. Just as you will be."

"I brought you here to discuss your role in the city, Mr. Vale," Dana said nervously. "I don't wish to push our encounter beyond that."

"Yes, well, I don't think what you had in mind really matters anymore, darling." He rose from his chair, undoing his tie. 

"If - If you think this is about your secret identity," she stammered, "it's safe with me. You don't have to worry."

"Oh, I'm not worried," he chuckled, shuffling off his jacket. "I don't give a fuck who knows I'm Mind Fuck anymore. I run this whole state anyway. What difference does it make?"

"Alright, then, little man," Dana said, growing suddenly furious and forceful, standing to face him across the desk. "If that's the way you want to play it. I was prepared to offer you a truth, but it seems instead I'll have to beat you to a pulp."

She hit a button on her desk and suddenly panels opened in the walls of her office and a herd of wild, very angry animals flooded into the room. Hyenas, chimpanzees, babboons, tropical birds, even a cheetah and a tiger. Noah froze in place and looked around as the animals surrounded him, growling or whooping threateningly.

"A few friends from my time in the rainforests," Dana said, stepping forward and climbing onto her desk, looking down at Noah just as threateningly as any of her animal cohorts. "I think they'd like to talk to you about instinct."

Noah smirked. "Well played, Dana. Never underestimate a Jungle Babe. I can see I'm going to have some trouble getting into your mind as well."

"Yes indeed," she smirked, tapping her head. "When I found out my heroine compatriots were up against a psychic enemy, I spent weeks in meditation learning to control my mind, teaching myself how to guard it from even the most powerful psychic attack. You aren't welcome inside my head."

"I guess I'll just have to use them, then," Noah shrugged. Before Dana could question his meaning, one of the chimpanzees by her desk reached out, grabbed her ankle, and yanked it forward. Dana lost her balance quickly and fell backwards, smashing her head and back on the edge of her desk before crashing to the ground, knocking over her own huge desk chair. Her glimmering red heels flew into the air above her as she landed. She groaned, dazed, as Noah calmly walked around her desk and peered down on her, their roles now reversed.

"Animal minds are pure simplicity to control," he said. "One of the first ways I learned to control my psychic powers was by telling the family dog what to do. The second thing I did was fuck my best friend's mom and four sisters... all at once. But that's a story for another time."

Dana looked up at Noah with hatred etched on her face, but it soon shifted to fear as a group of chimps approached her and held her arms and legs down. Their brute animal strength was enough to overpower her Aphrodite physiology, and she squirmed and twisted uselessly as they began tearing her clothing from her. The blazer was torn apart at the seams, the black blouse underneath shredded in seconds. Her pearl necklace was snapped off and scattered. Dana cried for help, but she knew as well as anyone that her office was soundproof. Tears streamed down her face as her upper body was exposed in all its glory. Noah smiled as he saw that under her business clothes, she still wore the costume of Jungle Babe.

The tropical birds around the room squawked in glee as the cheetah tore Dana's skirt apart with his teeth and slobbered over her naked upper thighs. Small monkeys clawed at her stockings with their tiny digits until her hose were adequately shredded. Then they set about ridding Dana of her loin cloth, removing the leopard-skin bikini that kept her tits in place, and stealing her ruby earrings. Soon Noah was looking down on a (practically) naked Dana McQueen. She looked at him with fiery, if tear-filled, eyes and spat in contempt. 

"So what now, Noah? Just going to fuck me and get it over with? Huh?"

"Hardly," he said, putting back on his tie and jacket. "Why fuck you like an animal if the animals are already here?"

Dana made a questioning face that turned to one of horror as a hyena sauntered up beside Noah. 

"No!" she cried, beginning with renewed vigor to attempt an escape. "Jesus, no!"

"What's the matter?" Noah chided her. "I thought Jungle Babe was a friend to all animals. Why don't you show them just how good a friend you can be?"

"Nnnnooooo!! Nnnnnnaaaahhh!!! Nnnaaaooooo!!!!" Dana screamed as the chimps dragged her body over to her tipped chair and slung her body over its frame, holding her wrists and ankles tightly as the hyena advanced. They parted her legs by force and situated her so that her smooth, white ass was prominently on display. The mischievous monkeys that had torn her costume from her ran forward to jump on her hanging tits, nipping and biting on them, squeezing with all ten digits, wrapping their prehensile tails around her nipples.

The hyena put two massive paws on either side of Dana's hips and the woman turned back to look into its ghastly,  demonic face before gazing down at its dangerous-looking genitalia. 

"No," she pleaded to Noah, tears streaming down her flushed face. "Please."

"Maybe this will drive my point about instinct home," Noah said simply, and Dana felt the tip of the hyena's penis pressing against the outer folds of her vagina. She knew that Noah controlled the animal's every movement, but as she felt its drool spilling onto her back and ass, she knew that did not make a difference. She was about to fucked by a dog.

It pressed into her and she could do nothing to resist, weeping loudly instead of cursing Noah's name. She felt its weight hanging over her, heard and felt its hot breath on her neck. The little monkeys grabbed her by her mane of platinum hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to watch with red eyes as the hyena tested her, shifted slightly on its haunches, changed its angle, and then lunged forward, piercing fully into her in one stroke.

She expected to scream but instead only grunted, eyes crossed, as the animal entered her. After a few more long, piercing strokes, the hyena began a rapid fucking motion that rocked her back and forth on the overturned chair. With all the might of its thick, muscular hind legs, the hyena slammed into her again and again, savagely. Though Noah controlled its motivations, there was no doubt Dana was being fucked by an animal, not a man.

"Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh," she grunted with every thrust, making sounds like a starting motorboat as the hyena laughed above her with pleasure, more thick drool landing on her back. Soon its front paws came up and positioned themselves on that back, scratching her with passion, though never too deep. The pain added a new level to the experience.

By now Dana was in a state of shock anyway. The chimps had no more need to hold her down, and the hyena adjusted her position with its powerful front limbs, mounting the gorgeous bitch for optimal penetration and pleasure. Dana felt almost nothing, just a happy numbness as she was broken down. Her mind snapped under the pressure of this horror and the look on her face became one of ecstasy.

"Guh," she grunted as she was fucked, ever harder, ever faster. "Guh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh!" 

Noah noted her growing involvement in the bestiality and decided to press her further. 

"I wish I was getting all this on tape," he said, signaling to the second hyena in the room to move in front of Dana. "Oh well. I guess we can always just recreate it later." The second hyena stood over Dana's head as she was rocked by thrusts, and once again the small monkeys had to pull her by her hair to draw her attention to something. The massive, grotesque, hanging cock and balls of another hyena were inches in front of her face. 

"Muh," she simply grunted as a chimp guided the cock to her mouth. She took it readily and began sucking on it with relish, knowing no better anymore. She slurped noisily as she continued being pounded. Her free hands came up to cradle the balls, so thick with sharp, wiry hairs, and to jack on the shaft. Her expert method brought the hyena to a quick climax, and Dana was rewarded by a rush of animal semen in her mouth. She pulled the penis from between her red lips and coughed up the thick jism even as more was deposited on her forehead, where it dripped down into her eye sockets.

Exhausted, she collapsed after this hosing and let the first hyena finish his business. When he came deep inside her, Dana squealed, raising her cum-covered face to the ceiling and pushing back with her big, soft ass against his final, angry thrusts. Torrents of cum flooded her pussy and exploded out of the sides, and then at last the hyena backed away, sated. It curled up on the floor as Noah stepped forward, then crouched beside her. In just a few minutes, Dana had been transformed from a proud, confident, powerful businesswoman to this: a picture of submission, bent over a chair, back scratched and raw, cum draining down her thighs and adorning her beatific face. Sweat and small scratches covered her. The monkeys still danced over her back and played with her tits. Noah shooed them away before reaching forward and grasping Dana's face.

He squeezed her cheeks and pulled her head up. Her eyes, barely open, looked out dimly into a world she no longer understood. Her mind had been savagely broken. But it was not beyond repair. He would begin fixing her, nay, improving her, building her mind from the ground up until he had created a perfect slave where once there was Dana McQueen. For now, he simply gazed into her glossy, unfocusing eyes and watched the cum slowly drip from her red, red lips. He smiled.

"We're all animals, Dana," he said at last. "Some of us just realize it before others."

***

Angela Grear and Karen Clark didn't see each other again until Thanksgiving, when they met up to have a few laughs and a few drinks. Mostly it was to make sure neither of them had disappeared yet. From the moment Karen answered the door to her apartment, she knew something was wrong.

Angela stood before her, clad in drably colored clothes, head down. Karen opened the door and took a glance at her, and noticed from the black mascara streaks on her friend's face that Angela had been crying.

"My God, Angie, what is it?" Karen asked, ushering her friend inside and closing the door behind them. Angela didn't answer at first as she was led to a couch and sat down, then suddenly she burst into a hysterical crying fit.

"I lost my job," she managed to get out between deep sobs.

Karen sat down beside her, running her hands over the weeping woman's shoulders in attempt to calm her. 

"How?" she asked. "Why? You've been the best DA this city's ever had, Angie. How could they fire you?"

Angela sniffled and coughed as she tried to hold back her sobs. She wiped her nose and trembled, then looked up at Karen with red, wet eyes. 

"I guess... it all started a few months ago," she said finally. "I was negotiating the release of Kid Rotten, JJ Rod, and Mr. Cock from prison."

"Those snakes," Karen said instinctively. "They'll pay for what they've done to this city."

"Anyway," Angela said, "I was going over their release documents, and there was a section that said I had to let them have sex with me."

"What!?" Karen was taken aback, and momentarily stopped rubbing her friend's shoulders out of shock. "And you did?"

"I was so confused, Karen," Angela said, sobbing anew. "I still am. I don't know who I am anymore. These feelings we've all been having the last few months, since summer, since we've been getting those porn videos... I just snapped. I lost it."

"I can't believe you got away without being enslaved," Karen said.

"Sometimes I wish I had," Angela said pathetically. 

"So how did you lose your job?" Karen asked, ignoring the last statement.

"Well... a few weeks ago I ran into this guy at the rehab center in Sugar... I mean, Alpha Town. And he told me he'd been talking to those three pimps, and they told him what I did, and he asked me for a blowjob..."

Angela lost the ability to speak as more tears overwhelmed her. She sat and shook with sadness for a long minute before continuing.

"I just have this need, Karen. This deep need. I'm sure you feel it to. And I can't ignore it anymore. I have no resolve around men any more. If they proposition me... I'm so weak."

Karen had no reply. She knew exactly how Angela felt, of course. 

"So this guy took me in the other room, and he... and I... I... I didn't know they had security cameras in the cafeteria, but they did, and they caught me on film, and they showed it to my boss, and now I lost my job and oh my God I don't know what I'm going to do, Karen!"

Angela broke down again, fresh mascara streaks staining her cheeks. Karen stayed silent, and for a while they just sat together as Angela poured out her emotions. As she cried the last of her tears, she looked up at Karen with a half-smile.

"You know my boss actually offered to let me keep the job if I slept with him?" she said. "Dirty bastard. At least I wasn't that weak."

"Hey," Karen said, reaching out to hold Angela's chin. "You are not weak. You are one of the strongest, smartest, most beautiful women I've ever met. You're so far above these bastards, they don't even know it."

And then, as one, the two heroines moved in and kissed each other. They embraced each other and each moaned with burning passion as their lips were crushed by the force of the kiss. Each savored the taste of the other's mouth, the soft feel of lips and tongue meeting. It was a long, smoldering kiss, but it was not to last. Each woman knew that they could never give each other the proper pleasure they deserved. Orgasm would still be unattainable, and any lesbian sex would only frustrate them further. So, again as one, they detached from the kiss and simply held each other for a long time.

"Mr. Cock told me Noah Vale was behind it all," Angela said after a while, her head resting on Karen's shoulder. "He mentioned it and I never had the strength to act on it. But we were right, of course. Noah Vale is the man behind everything."

"Son of a bitch," Karen said, tensing. Her hands balled into fists even as she held her friend gently. Then, slowly, she pulled away from Angela until they were face-to-face. Karen had a new look of determination on her beautiful face.

"Enough is enough," she said. "No more reason for hiding. No more reasons not to fight. It's time for Noah Vale to take a fall."

To be Concluded

~~~~~~