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Angela was awakened by a ray of sunlight leaking through window blinds. Her hair was in her face; she pushed it back over her ears as she sat up. She had lost her dress. The broken g-string wrapped around one thigh; she yanked it off and dropped it behind the couch. Her stockings had been ruined by last night's activities. Her head began to clear; she'd screwed Josh silly three times, each time avoiding a blowjob. She had no idea she could be so creatively seductive. Or maybe it was just Josh's youthful enthusiasm that couldn't say 'no' to a hot willing young woman begging him to fill her...
Angela peeled off the laddered stockings in disgust. There went $25. She felt sticky. Where was her dress? Over there in a puddle next to the fake tree in the corner.
Where were her shoes? She remembered... "in the morning, if you're good" Josh had promised before she'd coaxed him inside her for the third time.
Josh was snoring loudly. Maybe she could take a shower and wash off some of the sex, if not the shame that went with it.
The water felt good, but she dared not stay too long on the chance that Josh woke up and decided to join her. He'd had his fun, now it was time to get her shoes and go.
Angela returned to the living room to fetch her dress.
Josh yawned and stretched.
"Wow, Angela, that was really fuckin' great." Josh was such a romantic. Angela just gritted her teeth, mentally focusing on the image Ricky had drawn of Sapphire. That's why you were here, she told herself. You're almost through this.
"Yeah, Josh. Can I have my shoes now?"
"Oh, you didn't think we were done, did you?"
Angela's heart sank. She felt light-headed. She needed to sit down...
"Hey, I've got an idea. You're a girl, I bet you like trying stuff on, different outfits I mean, right?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "I know my mom has all kinds of cool outfits -- she's quite the clothes horse." Angela recalled with horror the closet full of trashy lingerie in his sister's old closet -- clothes whore is more like it. "I bet you'd just look dynamite in them. What do you say?" He stood up and reached out to help her up. "Come on, let's go look." When she didn't immediately respond he reached down, grabbed her hand, and yanked her to her feet, dragging her naked down the hall. Just like the last time she was here, she remembered shamefully.
Some of her dread lifted when Josh went right past his sister's old room. At least I won't have to wear any of that humiliating stuff, she thought. But as Josh guided her into his parents' room and nudged her to sit down on the bed her anxiety grew. What did his mom have in her own closet? Maybe that other stuff was just leftovers, stuff she didn't wear anymore. Maybe the stuff in this closet was worse!
Josh made a big production of throwing open the mirrored double doors. "Ta-da!" he said with a sweep of his arm. "Now that's a *closet*!"
Through her dread Angela had to agree with him. The walk-in closet looked huge, with two long rows of clothes, and an endless grid of shoes above. In the aisle was a stepladder. The near half of one side was obviously his dad's stuff -- conservative-looking business suits, dark dress shoes, and probably half of this year's Polo collection of slacks, shirts, and sweaters. The near half of the other side was his mom's business attire, distinguished by the brighter variety of colors and much smaller size of each garment. Beyond that on both sides was a sea of women's clothing that would put a Hollywood prima donna to shame. Josh went to the back of the closet, fiddling with something in the back for a minute. She just sat on the bed until he came back to the clothes-room's entrance.
Josh motioned to the huddled naked form on his parents' bed. "Come here, I'll get you a robe." That was nice of him. Ha. As she crossed the huge bedroom toward him, one arm over her chest, the other in front of her groin, she checked out his body as he stood there in his Ralph Lauren bikini underwear. He's cute, I guess, but he's no hunk.
Josh pulled out a satin shortie robe and started to hand it to Angela, but he paused as he looked her up and down, appraising how it would look on her, and noticed Angela's worried look as it occurred to her it would barely cover her privates. He withdrew the suggestion and returned it to the rod and pulled out a soft-looking red floor-length robe. Not her color, but certainly more discreet. She stepped into the shadowed area at the door of the closet where neither the bedroom wall sconces nor the interior closet light quite reached and slipped it on. It was a very lightweight material; the robe was obviously meant for modesty, not warmth. The hem just touched the floor -- odd, she thought Josh's mom was shorter than her. The bodice drew tight around her more ample chest, coverage parting between her breasts to show considerable cleavage.
"Don't just stand there, come on in. See anything you like?"
Despite the circumstances Angela had to admit she did. Losing her timidness in resignation that if she didn't start browsing, Josh would probably zero in on the most outrageous and humiliating thing he could find, Angela began thumbing through the rack like she was shopping.
Standing to her side, Josh admired Angela's form. The robe he'd handed her was quite see-through, just a shadow of red over her supple skin. Angela had no idea how exposed she was, since she'd taken the garment and put it on in the shadow of the doorway. (Josh had intentionally unscrewed the bulb in the front of the closet hoping for just this result. And now he stood between Angela and the full-length mirrors at the back of the closet, obscuring them from view.) He watched as she pulled out an item, regarded it carefully, then rehung it and pulled out another. Occasionally she would turn and hold an outfit at arm's length, giving him a fantastic view of her backside. He could see Angela was focusing on his mom's designer suits. While he'd like to see her 5'4" of curves stuffed into his smaller-framed mom's short-skirted business attire, he had loftier aspirations. But first to complete the picture already before him. He stepped behind her, toward the darker front of the closet.
"Hey, before you try anything on, here's some underwear; we don't want to stain anything." He held out a little wad of fabric, just out of her reach. Angela took a step toward him to retrieve it; as uncomfortable as she was with the idea of him dressing her up like a doll, she was even less keen on prancing about in his mom's clothes without any underwear, especially if the length of the skirts she'd seen so far was any indication of his mom's tastes.
Her fingers found the little tag and oriented the garment properly. She knew Josh was up to something; he was always up to something. Great, a g-string. They don't feel like they'd stop much; they're as thin as the robe. Angela didn't notice the article's translucence shielded in her own shadow.
Angela eyed Josh suspiciously, her eyes never leaving his as she bent down to step into the g-string. She knew he was waiting for the robe to part; he was already getting a great view of her cleavage in the too-small robe but she was more concerned about not making it open up completely. She had no idea just how much he could see.
Josh tried to keep a straight face, or at least keep his grin from breaking into a lustful drooling gape. What perfect tits! Granted, they weren't nearly as big as that cheerleader Judy's -- he gave both her chest size and her blowjob technique a solid D -- but they were perfectly formed, fleshy but firm as Angela bent down to step into the offered underwear. And the gauzy robe drawn tightly over her did little more than give her flesh a rosy hue. Her little nipples poked out like erasers. Her eyes bored into him with a barely-controlled hateful resignation.
Angela drew up the g-string slowly, trying to keep the robe from parting too far up, gently gathering and spilling it forward like theater curtains. She could feel her ass exposed behind her but he wouldn't be able to see that; a tiny flash of victory sparked in her eyes. Once it was in place, she pulled her hands out from under the robe which poured back down around her to her bare feet. She made adjustments by picking with her fingers through the robe, again being careful not to pull it open. There was just no making the unfamiliar strip running between her cheeks comfortable enough to forget what she was wearing, which she figured was just another little facet of Josh's smiling torture.
"Marvelous," Josh said. And was it ever! The g-string didn't really hide anything, just gave her clean-shaven mons a slightly darker shadow of red than the rest of her body.
"Come over here and put on these slippers so you don't drag the hem." Josh pointed to the floor just inside the closet doors; as she stepped into the shadows -- somebody should replace that light bulb -- she slipped into a pair of high-heeled mules, feeling a feather-like tickling as she did so. Despite the poor lighting conditions she knew exactly what the "slippers" were... straight out of a Frederick's of Hollywood catalog or any cheesy boudior fantasy. Or her own closet.
Josh watched her posture change as she stepped up into the high-heeled slippers. Ass stuck out, calves shaped, back arched. He admired the way they exaggerated every move she made, made her more sultry, more feminine, more helpless.
"Okay, let's pick out something for you to wear," he said, motioning her back into the closet.
The shoes elevated her stature considerably; Josh could almost see eye-to-eye with his fantasy date. The thick platform soles and six-inch heels probably made her feel like she was on stilts. She glared at him as she sclomp-ticked sclomp-ticked her way into the bowels of the closet.
"How about this?" Josh dramatically removed a hanger with a sweep of his arm. Angela couldn't help recoiling in horror at the see-through red lace cocktail dress. Josh suppressed a laugh; she didn't realize she was already far more exposed in the sheer robe. The minidress would be modest by comparison... and yet sluttier at the same time. This was fun.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Josh mocked. "Tell you what, why don't you go out to the bar and fix us each a *stiff* drink," he said, adolescently emphasizing the word 'stiff' with a quick hip-thrust, "while I find you something cute."
Angela sighed. She had to remember why she was here... "Okay, luv, but try to pick out something that goes with those sexy high heels of mine that you're holding, hmm?" She forced herself to trace her hand up his body, grazing his stiff member on the way to tickling behind his ear.
"You can be very persuasive when you want to, Angie," Josh said with closed eyes, reveling in his own power as much as her touch. "But there's plenty of time for that later. Now off to the kitchen!" he ordered playfully, smacking her sharply on the rear to get her going. The surprise of the blow launched her forward with a flurry of half-steps; she stabilized herself and looked over her shoulder at Josh as she retreated. "I'll be right back," she winked, "don't pick out anything *too* naughty!"
"That's impossible, baby!" Josh called back as she disappeared from sight. He waited to hear the click-clack of her heels against the tile floor of the entryway before diving back into the closet. He didn't need to browse, he knew exactly what he wanted.
Angela strutted down the hallway with purpose, head held high. She was going to outdo this little prick. He wanted nothing more than to humiliate her completely, and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing that again. At least not for real. She'd put that time spent in drama class to good use.
Silently, a pair of cameras captured Angela's oscillating form as she headed back down the hall, a highball in each hand.
Angela found Josh leaning against the back wall of the closet. If he doesn't stop grinning like that his face will stick that way, she thought. She handed him the drink.
"Bottoms up!" Josh toasted. His grin was stretched by a sour reaction to the strong liquor. Angela took small pleasure from his momentary loss of cool. She sipped at her own watered-down bourbon. "So what did you pick for me, honey?" she said with all the false charm she could muster.
Josh stepped toward her, taking the drink from her hand and retreating to the back of the closet. "Why don't you pick something?" Angela reached for a business suit at the front of the closet. "No, no, back here more where the fun stuff is. Anything past that support beam there."
Angela extracted the first hanger to the right of the beam, hoping that somehow the woman's sex costumes were arranged with the most-normal and least-humiliating ones up front.
A leather catsuit emerged, a multitude of pieces held together by stitches, zippers, and buckles.
Well that won't do, Josh thought. Let's remember who's in charge here. Good thing she didn't notice the whip. "No, that's no good. We'd be here for hours trying to stuff you into it. Besides, it's too butch for you."
Next hanger: a pink dress, puffy sleeves, crinoline skirting, huge white satin bow in back -- an obvious charicature of a little girl's Sunday outfit. Angela had little doubt that Josh's mom had shoes to go with it, some torturous fetish take on Maryjanes.
"No, that one's not quite right either. It's just *too* feminine. I like my women with a little less powderpuff, a little more spunk." As Angela put the little-girl outfit away and silently thanked the heavens for the tiniest bit of mercy, Josh rummaged back in the corner behind her.
"Ahh, now THAT'S what I'm talkin' 'bout!" He held something up on a hanger, his evil sneer only partially masked by showy ebullience.
And Angela was overcome with horror as Josh turned the hanger around.
The red satin cape and bright red-and-yellow "S" shield instantly identified it as a Super Girl costume. Oh, God, did Josh know? Had she told him she was Sapphire? Was this his way of torturing her? If he knew, did that mean he wouldn't give her back her shoes? It had to, didn't it? Why would he make her do all these horrible things if he had any intention of giving her back her power? No, he couldn't know. He never saw Sapphire's powers. He couldn't know. This had to be a coincidence. A sickening coincidence. Josh harbored a superheroine fetish.
But looking past the immediate recognition of the unknowingly-ironic icon of the costume to its actual composition revealed far more than a standard cape-tights-and-boots fantasy, figuratively and literally.
First, the cape was a mockery. She'd seen bibs larger than that at the local rib joint.
Worse, there were no boots. Josh held up a pair of bright red fuck-me stiletto pumps in his other hand; red stockings draped loosely over his wrist.
Worse still, the red skirt looked like it might be only slightly larger than a rubber band. It reminded Angela of Sapphire's plastic skirt she'd tried that night she wound up subduing Dirk. Angela presumed the stringy blue scrap hanging from the neck of the hanger was a g-string.
But the top was the worst of all. The "super" symbol wasn't on the top, it WAS the top, with strings dangling from the widest part on either side.
Josh tossed the hanger at her. "Go put it on." His eyes had a steely glare which belied his warm smile.
Angela took the humiliating change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. "Don't worry, I won't peek," Josh called around the corner. He didn't have to; one of the cameras hidden in the corners of the room would catch everything. There were benefits to having such perverted parents...
The girl in the full-length mirror took Angela by surprise; reflexively she dropped the clothes and shoes and covered herself with her arms. Josh could see everything through this robe! Her cheeks flushed red, matching the hue of her skin under the gauzy wrap. She turned away from the mirror so she didn't have to see herself in such a risque pose. For some reason she thought about being caught by her own mom on the couch; she hadn't been wearing much different then.
"Let's get this over with," Angela steeled herself to the task at hand...
The robe slipped off her shoulders and pooled at her feet. As she tugged the red g-string down her thighs she noticed it was as transparent as the robe; could she be any more shamed?
She could.
"How's it coming, Super Girl?"
Angela snapped the g-string into place and wiggled into the tight skirt. The top had really long strings on the sides just above really short ones; after trying unsuccessfully to tie it off at the small of her back, she figured out that the long ones were supposed to tie to the short ones on each side. The top was of course stretched tightly over Angela's breasts, having been designed for a smaller bust. The outer corners of the shield-shaped fabric didn't completely cover the outer curvature of her breasts; the shiny spandex material stretched in ripples between them. The tapered bottom hung away from her tummy. Looking down Angela could see the floor through her cleavage. She distracted herself for a moment with the thought that Josh's mom didn't have breast implants; considering the huge sums of money spent on her sexual wardrobe, Angela was surprised that she hadn't bought some big boobs too.
The stockings smoothed up her thighs, Angela pulled on the red pumps. Finally, the cape was tied around her neck.
Angela turned around. Oh, God. She was Super Slut.
"My mom's makeup is on the counter there next to the sink. Put some on. Don't skimp."
Angela did as she was told.
She heard his voice closer as she leaned over the sink, her face close to the mirror to add more mascara. "Are you dressed yet? Oh, good," Josh said from the doorway. He'd put on a white lab coat, which looked ridiculous with his bare legs and feet. The lower part of the coat was tented by his erection which seemed to grow as he ogled her, stretched out and bent over the edge of the sink counter, just begging to be taken from behind. But Josh had more elaborate ideas.
"Okay, so listen, we're gonna do a little roleplaying here. You're Super Girl, and I'm The Chemist, a supervillain with plans for world domination. I'm gonna go stand over by the dresser -- that's my lab, where I mix the potions that will allow me to control people's minds." As Josh continued to lay out his script, Angela's head fell to her chest, her cheeks burning bright red; she blinked away a tear.
Josh had no idea what line he'd crossed here.
"Make it convincing, and when we're done I'll go get your shoes."
"Hold it right there, Chemist," Angela said flatly.
Josh turned to face her as she stood in the doorway. He threw up his hands and leaned back in vaudeville surprise. "Why, it's Super Girl! How did you find my secret laboratory?"
"Never mind that," Angela replied with little enthusiasm, "I've come to stop you."
"...from poisoning the world," Josh prompted.
"I've come to stop you from poisoning the world," she repeated.
"Before you do that, take a whiff of this." Josh held something up in front of her. She felt a blast of cold stinging vapor hit her face; she recoiled, bringing her hands up to her face. Another shot hit her neck, then another on her chest. Her nose breathed in a strong, sweet, spicy scent. Obsession. She backpedaled a step but lost her balance. Josh quickly reached out and caught her by the wrist, then pulled her toward him and spun her onto the bed.
Angela sputtered as she pushed herself up on her hands and knees; one leg dangled off the side of the bed in search of the floor.
"What do you think, Super Girl?"
"I think it HURTS LIKE HELL when you squirt it RIGHT IN MY FACE!"
Josh didn't break character. "Of course it stings a little. It's my latest formula. It's Sensualia-X, mixed with just enough liquid Kryptonite to get past your defenses." He smacked her on the ass just as she was pushing herself up off the bed; she wobbled back onto her hands and knees.
"And I can see it's already taking its toll. You're not even strong enough to stand!" He let out a terrible fake supervillain laugh.
She stood and faced him, looking up at him even in the tall heels.
"I am a superheroine and you will show me some respect." Angela was only half delivering a line; a part of her was deadly serious.
"You're no superheroine. You're nothing but a slut." The words cut, more deeply than Josh could know.
Furious, Angela slapped him across the face. The impact was loud; her hand hurt. Josh was stunned. She moved to slap him with the other hand, but he snatched her wrist just before impact. His eyes betrayed a surprised anger at her petulence, but this gave way to a devilish look of enjoyment as she struggled against his grip. This was even better than he'd hoped for. Her anger faded as she remembered who had the power here, in more ways than one.
If only she'd had her gems...
Of course, that was the point of this whole charade.
"So much for your super powers," Josh taunted. Angela tried to pull her arm away from him, but he held it fast. She tugged harder, bending her knees and throwing her weight back; he held on for a moment, then just as she tugged again he let go; she went spilling to the floor hard on her ass, arms and legs flailing. Josh caught a flash of her little g-string under the tight skirt.
Angela simply lay there on her back; this was humiliating. Her expression of helpless anger only fueled Josh's fire. He reached for something on the dresser, then bent down and grabbed at her ankles. Before she could pull away, he had them both looped in white cloth ties and was pulling her along the floor back toward the bed. He spun the ties around his forearm several times, effectively tying her feet together to his arm. She could probably kick free but it would hurt him and she couldn't afford to do that; she lay there compliantly.
Josh pulled her feet up toward her ass, turning her on her side. What an ass! The bottom half of her cheeks stuck out lewdly from the too-short skirt. He squatted down next to her. With his free hand he looped a tie around one wrist, then quickly repeated the task on her other wrist. He wrapped these around his forearm and lifted her up. She dangled awkwardly like a fish caught on two hooks.
"These Kryptonite restraints will hold you, Super Slut."
Angela found herself thrown on the bed. Her tormentor quickly unwrapped the ties from his forearms and began fastening her extremeties down to the bedposts.
Angela broke character. "Isn't Criptoe-night supposed to be green?" Anything to knock him down a peg.
"Don't worry, we'll fix that in post," Josh said as he bent down to tie off.
"What?" Angela hadn't quite heard him.
"Uhh... we'll fix you to that post," he recovered. He didn't want Angela knowing about the cameras.
"Now I have you! Oh, Super Girl, you have no idea how long I have waited for this moment! All the times I've seen you flying around the city, supposedly helping people, I knew the truth! I knew the real reason you went running around in your skimpy costume. You just want to show off that hot bod of yours. You just want all the men in the city to lust after your perky tits and your tight ass and your long legs. You want them to make them hard just thinking about you. You want to control them all by letting them see what they can't have. You're just a big tease! But no more. Soon The Chemist will be the one controlling this city, and the world!"
The Chemist / Josh shot her with another whiff of perfume.
"Even now, the Kryptonite combines with my sexual serum, breaking down your resistance and bonding you to me. You can't help but be aroused by my scent. My touch excites you, makes you long for me, makes you *wet* for me." His hand cupped her pussy, the palm of his hand squishing back and forth, grinding against her clit. His fingers stroked up and down her distended lips; she moaned despite herself.
"You will do anything to please me." He grabbed her breast roughly through the "S" top, squeezing with a gentle rhythm.
"You want to feel my cock inside you."
Josh climbed up on the bed. He trembled with excitement.
Damn, he hadn't really thought about how she was going to give him a blowjob tied up like this. The King-sized bed and the short silk ties had her arms spread wide and her head too close to the headboard for him to lean over her. He should have tied her feet with the short ones and her arms with the long ones...
He straddled her as best he could, knees under her armpits, leaning forward with his hands against the wall above the headboard.
Angela's eyes went wide with terror. Oh, no! He was going to force her to...
Josh reached down, bending his prick toward her mouth. It was an awkward position. Maybe he should re-tie her after all... but it was right there...
His meat bounced against her lips as he pushed it down and swiveled his hips.
"Suck it," he commanded.
He traced her lips with the head; it smelled pungent, it felt hot against her skin. It twitched when she exhaled. She felt wispy hairs tickling the underside of her chin.
A tear slid down the side of her face as she opened her mouth.
"Oh, ffucckhh, yeah..." Josh was barely coherent as his prick slid in and out of Angela's lips. Her technique was lousy, but rubbing the head of his dick against the top of her mouth he didn't care.
But as marvelous as it felt to be mouth-fucking his ex-girlfriend dressed up as Super Girl, his back and stomach muscles were getting sore. The position was just too awkward. And the cameras weren't capturing any of the action. He didn't need to see a ten minute video of his own ass on top of her hot body. He should have thought about this more, he could have planned this better.
And she was starting to whimper and struggle a little. Maybe she couldn't breathe. Dammit, this wasn't working out. If he kept thinking about it he was gonna lose his wood. He pulled out and rolled off.
He regarded his captive playmate. Struggling weakly against her bonds. Calves and thighs well-defined underneath red stockings. Short skirt inched up to expose the scant g-string painted on the junction of her sex. Tits spilling out the sides of the small straining top. Cartoonishly-short cape providing a bright-red backdrop for the creamy-smooth skin of her bare shoulders. It was... perfect.
Angela looked up at her image in the ceiling mirror, staring at the "S" emblazoned across her chest. Super. She was anything but.
Blackmailed, powerless, humiliated, demeaned, defiled... tied up here before this boy -- this sinister *man* -- wearing a symbol of feminine strength and righteousness that was the polar opposite of her present condition...
It made her wet.
And there were no magical gems she could blame it on, no external force artificially stimulating her carnal lust. It wasn't Sapphire succombing to the dark side of her power. It was Angela revelling in the weakness of her own flesh. And the more ashamed she became, the more inflamed was her body's response.
"Please fuck me." The words were little more than a whisper.
Josh leaped on top of her; she didn't have to ask twice.