A story by Ceramic: ceramic762@yahoo.com

In our previous episode: “Her Mind’s Eye”

Will she? Oh my god! She did! How could she? That’s sick. Thank god she kept her focus. And got the information! But, all for naught, as Van Helsing burns.

Saving Star Spangled Soldier

“You shall pay, New Albion! You shall PAY!!!”, snarled the bone-white, emaciated Rapskullian. Arrayed atop the metro-building in the eastern industrial section of the city, Rapskullian and his Legion of Terror glared into the camera. Behind him, the massive Bonesaw, the deadly Regiscide, the sensual Fishnet, and Mine Canary posed in threatening postures, before the screen froze.

“Shit,” grunted Praetorian looking at the still shot on the forward monitor, “They let out the entirety of the Legion.” The tall leader of the Strange Defenders turned towards his second in command, “I’m sorry, Lilah, but it looks like you’re getting reactivated.”

Lilah Wilder nodded, the heroine known as Wind Raven already expecting this request, her keen eyes meeting Praetorian’s, “I know, Jason. I’m ready.”

“Damn those bastards!” cried out Lightbeam, slamming his fist into the conference table, “They really did let every single villain escape, didn’t they?”

Praetorian nodded grimly. Yes, they did. Ever since the small unknown army of thugs raided the Helsing Maximum Security Prison and set it ablaze earlier that morning, life in New Albion had turned dangerous. From small time criminals to larger threats, crime had gone rampant in the usually safe metropolis. A state of emergency had been called by Mayor Westhale, and everyone was encouraged to keep indoors. Going out was potentially dangerous.

Sighing, Praetorian closed his eyes and held the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t afford a headache at this time, with half of his team out in a futile effort to keep the public safe. With Doc, Bubble Girl, Syrenade, and Troll on the streets, all that was left was a skeleton crew to take on the Legion of Terror.

He glanced towards Wind Raven, “Nike?”

Wind Raven frowned in concern and gave her head a brief shake. Negative.

“Shit…” muttered Praetorian once again. Damn, damn, damn, he cursed inwardly, as his eyes turned to the last member of his team, the rookie superheroine known as Allure. His gaze lingered over her small frame and her slight shoulders, as she stared at him in return. Why on earth, he wondered perhaps for the hundredth time, did he ever agree to letting her sign on to the team? She was scared, he could tell. But, she had the look. That set of the jaw, the steely determination in her luminous eyes that told him that she was ready. Or at least thought she was. He watched her fold her arms across her impressive bust to give them something to do and not betray her nervousness.

Long blond hair cascaded down her back across her slight frame, and her all to revealing white costume of a curve hugging leotard, white boots, practically transparent mini-skirt, and short cape, she looked about as dangerous as a little toy poodle. Okay, he wasn’t being entirely generous… maybe a little yapping toy poodle. That her training and skills were growing by leaps and bounds every day didn’t help. She was a natural, thinking up new ways to use her powers of telekinesis and empathy during every session. Praetorian tilted his head. That whole flight thing was her idea, come to think of it. He didn’t know if it was going to work, but it did.

Praetorian sighed and for perhaps the hundredth time wished he knew another active psychic, any kind of psychic. The Strange Defenders knew their business, but none of them had the kind of skills that Allure’s kind of power needed, and none of them had any real understanding of the kinds of training she needed. He could only hope that between his and doc’s creative sessions, it might be enough until they found someone. She was getting better, but it wasn’t enough. Not for this.

He finally decided, “Alright Allure, we need someone to keep monitoring the emergency communicator, and you’re it.”

To that, the heroine frowned mulishly. “But-…!” Allure protested.

With a swift chop of his hand, Praetorian cut off her words, “Allure… you’re a valued member of our team now, but we need someone here. You’re our last line of defense. If anything happens while we’re taking on the Legion of Terror, you’re it.” He breathed, “The Invincibles have turned out en-masse, battling on the streets and searching for Sparkle Star and Growltiger, the Midknights were observed out in the light of day, and I have to guess that every lonewolf hero and heroine is up to their neck in it.” His eyes meet Allure’s, “So, we need you here.”

Allure’s lips parted for a moment, her argument caught at her throat. Finally she nodded reluctantly, pressing them firmly closed without a word.

Taking advantage of her silence, he pressed forward, “Nike will… be here with you.”

After finally getting Allure’s assent, Praetorian glanced towards the remainder of his team. This was as dangerous a mission as there ever was, but if he couldn’t do it with these two – Lightbeam and Wind Raven -- his most experienced of teammates, it couldn’t be done at all. “Okay… we’re off,” he announced decisively, before stalking towards the roof access, leaving Allure alone in the cold communications center.

* * *

The Umberholk in Underside. Pariah had the urge to spit the bitter taste from her mouth, but held it back as it would only splatter against the inside of her helmet. And then how awkward would that be? It didn’t change, however, the revulsion she had for the place. If it wasn’t for her duty, she would never have found herself sliding through an access hatch in the roof of the strip club to watch the going-ons below. Her parents, she was sure, would never have agreed to it. Much too rich and refined, it would never have occurred to them that their youngest daughter was using their money to go to University in New Albion, but spending her nights moonlighting as a crime fighter.

She sighed to herself as she leaned against one of the crossbeams over the heads of the gyrating floozies in the dark room below. She would have to tell them about her extracurricular activities one day, but that day was hopefully long in coming. Instead, she had a different mission that afternoon – to track and find the whereabouts of Sparkle Star and her comrade Growltiger.

Pariah couldn’t quite believe that the silly star-studded girl let herself get captured the way she did, during a raid on the prison no less! She had watched as the goons carried a smoldering, fur covered Growltiger from the Prison to the trucks. Following them was the burly, bald Razorjaw. She had decided, at the time, that he looked particularly disgruntled – and she couldn’t help but notice the massive tenting in his red jumpsuit, directly over his crotch. But then, she spied the patriotic suit slung over his shoulder, the lithe frame of Sparkle Star!

My God, she had thought, they caught her too! Stunned, she watched as they all packed into their trucks and vans, including their leader – the yellow haired faun-like fellow named ‘Satyrn’, and then drove off.

It was then that Pariah had to quickly vacate the area as the inmates poured from the prison, many of them extremely dangerous and super-powered. Luckily, she had overheard Razorjaw’s interrogation and had a good idea of where they were headed, but for the first hour it had been particularly dicey, culminating in an encounter between herself and the rather vile Meta-Fly Boy. Thankfully, a quick bola to the throat, and a micro-filament net brought the icky villain down, vomiting and sputtering as he crashed into the rooftop. She had left a beacon taped to his forehead so the police could find him easily.

The Dark Investigator adjusted her night-optics to the dim lighting of the strip club, watching as patrons moved along the floor below, stuffing dollar bills into the g-strings of the tit-waggling dancers. Several of them were malformed patrons, obviously mutants or otherworldly visitors, but the vast majority were average joes – men hiding from their wives, dead-beats, drunks, and ne’er-do-wells blowing what little cash they had. And then the dancers! Green-skinned women, women with four arms, and the usual standard variety held the attention of all who wandered through, moving to the pounding of high-octane music that reverberated through oversized speakers. Pariah had to resort to communicating to Sunwitch with a series of electronic beeps, her voice having been drown out by the ambient sound.

A group of college students, laughing their way through the front door, caught Pariah’s eye, one of them looking rather familiar. Who was he? Someone in her World Business class? She focused in upon his face with her optics – a good looking kid, blond, with a buzz-cut and a cocky smirk on his lips. He and three of his friends were talking to one of the bouncers, who was holding out a hand surreptitiously. She frowned and tried to read the young man’s lips.

“ --‘s the money, Rumble… now you said that me and my franks could get in on some good rake action. “

The burly bouncer flipped through a wad of bills that was passed to him. “ It was a gay a piece, dip-shit… I only see two-thousand here, and there’re four of you. “

The student winced. “ Come on, man… we only have five-hundred a piece. Can’t you cut us a break? We want to flick a girl in a superheroine costume. “

“ I don’t think so, them’s the rules. “ The bouncer paused and leaned in to whisper into the student’s ear, “ But I can let you watch, for this amount. Today we gots ourselves a runny superhomerism that we’re going to make beg… “

“ Oh my god… really? Who? “

“ Snorkle Star. “

The student looked at his friends, and then they all grinned wolfishly. “ Alright… you’re on. “ The bouncer signaled the student and his friends to follow him along the floor to a set of stairs leading down into the bowels of the building’s basement.

Pariah hissed into her mike, cursing her inability to talk directly to Sunwitch. There was no way she could confront them down there by herself. She saw how many goons they had. She had to find a way down there, though. And she needed help… curse the villains.

Quickly, she triggered her electronic communicator and sent a series of coded instructions beeping to Sunwitch.

* * *

Allure sighed heavily as she paced about the lonely communications room. She hadn’t realized just how cold the building was when she was the only one there. Well, no… Nike was there, but sequestered in her room as she was, she might as well have been the only one in the building. She folded her hands and inspected at the slick fabric of her gloves, before resuming her pacing.

She wished there was something she could do for Nike, even though all of her inquiries had been rebuffed. Nike was never rude about them, and as much as Allure could tell, she was in good health with flushed cheeks. And it wasn’t like she was being unfriendly. But… still, there was little that she could do. Wind Raven said that eventually, Nike would come out of her shell.

Allure nodded to herself and clenched her fists tightly. And she would be there for her friend when she decided to do so.

Suddenly, the lights began to blink around her and the massive holographic monitor in the center of the room flared to life. Allure’s heart pounded in anticipation. What now?

“Incoming message, Allure,” crooned the cool voice of the computer that ran virtually all of the Strange Defender’s systems. She, Allure couldn’t help but think that the Strange Defender’s AI was a woman, had the refined voice of a European noblewoman… British perhaps, Allure wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, it struck Allure that Central would have been as cold as a fish in bed.

Allure glanced up towards the blinking lights, acknowledging the room’s AI, “Please put it through, Central.”

“Certainly,” Central crooned once more, before the holo-projector brightened.

Striding to the center of the room, Allure lifted her chin and folded her arms as the projection came into focus, summoning what authority she could muster. Whoever she would be dealing with, they were more likely to respond better to an exterior of quiet calm, rather than an interior of shrieking nerves.

Sunwitch blinked up at her computer screen at the lithe, blonde young woman in the white body-suit and cape that stood with calm self-possession. She had expected maybe Wind Raven, or Praetorian, or (blush) Lightbeam to answer the call… not, whoever this was. Frowning, she checked the communicator number to make sure she called the right place…

“This is Allure of the Strange Defenders,” came the young woman’s voice as she stared straight into the call.

Allure really wasn’t sure what to expect on her first call like this. Some costumed superhero, perhaps, or a threatening villain. Instead, all she saw through the holo-projector was the unadorned face of a young, bespectacled woman, her black hair pulled back into a pony tail, and her throat and shoulders showing what appeared to be the top of a rather comfy looking knit cardigan. Behind her, lights from various machines blinked coldly.

To the woman’s surprised expression, Allure repeated, “This is Allure of the Strange Defenders,” before pausing awkwardly, “… How may I help you?”

Finally, the woman overcame her initial startlement and straightened her shoulders, “I apologize, I was expecting another one of the Strange Defenders to answer. I am Sunwitch… and I’m calling for your help.”

Allure frowned. Sunwitch? “Are you in league with one of the other supergroups, Sunwitch?”

Snorting with some impatience, Sunwitch shook her head, “No. I work with Pariah, and I think we’ve found where Growltiger and Sparkle Star have been taken. Pariah will need help.”

The newest Strange Defender stiffened upon hearing those names, “Yes, we were hoping that someone would find them. Tell me.”

Sunwitch exhaled in relief, before another thought crossed her mind, “Where is Praetorian? Why are you answering this call, Allure?”

It was Allure’s turn to frown in irritation, “Because all the rest are out keeping the city safe. I know you don’t know who I am, but I… and… Nike… are the only ones available to assist you right now.”

The young woman through the holo-projector sighed and looked with worry, “I… don’t know if that will be enough, Allure. Pariah is in a tough place.”

“It is all we have left, Sunwitch.”

Finally, Sunwitch sighed heavily, her face growing dark. Suddenly, it occurred to Allure that Sunwitch was not as young as she appeared to be, or else she was far more experienced than her appearance let on. Exhaling once more, Sunwitch continued, “We would be grateful for any assistance you can render, Allure. They can be found at the Umberholk in Underside.”

Allure’s booted feet pounded down the hallway, her breath heaving as she slammed the bottom of her small fist into the oaken door. “Deb! Deb…! Open the door!” Her eyes wide, Allure stared at the quiet door. Just as she feared, Nike was not coming out. She pounded on the door again, “Damn it, Deb! I need your help! People are in trouble!” Still nothing.

Oh god, she couldn’t do this alone. Allure frowned and stepped back away from the door. Her eyes glittering, angrily, she lifted her hand and grasped the heavy door with her mind. Yes, it was easy now. Although she couldn’t claim she was nearly as confident as people told her she looked, tearing out doors were easy as pie. Clenching her fist, she wrapped her will around the portal, and then with a snort, she tore the wooden door from the hinges and tossed it aside. Shrieking and crashing as it sailed through the air and clattered against the wall, drywall ruptured and misted in its wake leaving a nasty film in the air.

“Come on, Deb! This is it! People are counting on you!” She shouted as she rushed through the now-open doorway.

Only to stop in bewilderment to see Nike standing there, facing her calmly, already dressed in her heroine costume – the blue and red suit, her long brown hair pulled back, and her red goggles resting smartly in place. The only thing that was not exactly right was the drawn expression that seemed to be permanently fixed across her face.

“Deb!” Allure cried out in shock, “You’re… ready?! I thought I would have to hold you down and dress you myself.”

Nike blinked and raised her eyes to Allure, meeting them wearily. “I… no… I dressed myself, Sam. I’ve been dressed for a while. I thought… I thought that Praet might call.” She turned away, looking at her bed, and the fine drywall mist that seemed to settle across it’s covered surface as if seeing the damage for the first time. Allure noted that it looked like the bed had not been slept in for weeks.

“I see that. Then, let’s go!”

“I… I can’t!” Nike cried out suddenly, lifting her hands to cover her face.

Allure frowned, not quite understanding, as she crossed the room to reach a comforting hand out to her friend, “What? What do you mean you can’t? You got yourself dressed, now… we just go out the door.”

“No!” Nike cried out once more, yanking her arm away from Allure, “I… I just can’t. I haven’t been able to… to think straight since… since…” Her voice faded.

“Since what? What are you talking about, Deb?” Allure asked, quietly, reaching out once more to grasp Nike’s arm, this time, in concern. As she grasped Deb’s upper arm, she gasped with shock as wave after wave of… what… desire?… assaulted her senses. No, lust! Intense… lust! Oh god. She couldn’t be imagining that could she? Her lips twisting slightly in chagrin, Allure felt herself unconsciously rub her thighs together as she grew undesirably moist. She had to get control of herself. What on earth was going on here?!

“I…” breathed Nike quietly, “I don’t know. I… just don’t know.”

Grimacing, Allure closed her eyes to gain firm control over her… sympathetic emotions before gazing with concern at her friend. She finally nodded, “Deb… if you don’t want to go, I won’t force you to. I thought… I thought you were just letting yourself get down, but I see now that it is something else.” She took a deep, shaky breath, “I’ll go alone.”

Nike blinked quietly, staring hard at Allure, her mind working furiously – defiantly against the hot, needy thoughts that trampled through her mind. Allure could see the physical argument she was growing through, and kept wisely quiet. Finally, the heroine cried out, “I… no… damn it, Sam! I’m not ready… but, neither are you.” Her gaze had a touch of wildness as she choked out, “You’ll be… slaughtered out there, Sam. Destroyed. I… can’t let them…”

The rookie heroine took Nike’s arm, “Don’t go, if you’re not up for this, Deb.”

“No!” Nike practically shouted, “No! I… have to be! I will be, Sam.” Her voice quieted, “I must be.” Swallowing hard, Nike held her chin high and stalked out the door with such sudden speed that Allure was forced to hurry to catch up, a bit tarnished and unbalanced perhaps, but Mistress of Victory once more.

* * *

The powerful fingers turned her jaw towards the massive, angry red cock, its blunt tip mere fractions of an inch away from her lips.

“Let us see about finishing what we started, girlie,” the voice chuckled.

Sparkle Star blinked into the light, her eyes tearing up from the awful pain that wracked through her body. She tried to wipe them, but she found that her arms were immobilized, drawn up and pinned together behind her head in a set of military-grade cuffs that engulfed her hands like mitts. Trying to turn her head once more away from the hands, she found that she couldn’t move much more of her body than that. She was hung, suspended from the ceiling by a chain attached to the cuffs, while her ankles were shackled to the cold concrete floor. An uncomfortable position, even made more so by the fact that her body was lowered forward so her weight was resting on her knees – and her face was right about the height of Razorjaw’s massive prick.

Angrily, Sparkle Star pulled her face away from his hand again, determined not to give him satisfaction. It was as ugly a situation as she had ever faced. At least they let her keep her costume, her mind temporized, but even she was not sure how long that was going to last.

Razorjaw cackled as she struggled, “Oh come now, Sparkle Star. You were so eager before. You growing shy, girlie, now that you have the attention of a captive audience?”

Sparkle Star snorted and closed her eyes tightly. Indeed, there was an audience – even more incentive to not give him any satisfaction. She was held, bound in a circle of light, surrounded by bleachers filled with spectators. Spectators… like this was some sort of sport. She couldn’t see them clearly, in the dim shadows beyond the bright light, but she could hear them. She knew they were there. The heavy breathing, the movement, the eyes as they bore down on her captured form in it’s blue and red costume. Her body, writhing sinuously, tried again to pull away from the villain before her.

“Oh don’t play coy!” laughed Razorjaw with glee, “Lads, don’t you know, she was slurping on my meat like it was a Popsicle on a hot summer day.”

A rough laugh echoed from the audience, and a teasing jeer in the direction of Razorjaw, “Maybe she found it to be wanting!”

Another laugh, “I think she’ll like mine much better, why don’t you let me give her a try?”

Sparkle Star flushed as she listened to the jeering men. She knew that she couldn’t fight him forever like this. She could try to activate her powers, but… with him this close, and her bound as she was, there was little she could do to defend herself.

Razorjaw’s mood seemed to change, however, as he listened to the jeers, as if swung by some internal accusation. His blunt face darkened, as he bared his razor sharp teeth, “I like women who play hard to get, girlie… but I think this has gone far enough.” His powerful hands clasped on to either side of her head, his fingers running through her hair and gripping it to guide her mouth back to his cock. “Now open your mouth.”

Sparkle Star clenched her eyes and mouth shut as the large tip of his tool pressed against her glistening lips, but slowly and inevitably, the rock-hard cock pushed into her mouth. It was huge… as huge as she remembered it before, its girth forcing her lips and jaw to stretch open to accommodate it. A muffled sob escaped from her as the huge, hot piece of cock meat slid deep into her mouth, nestling in at the back of her throat. Involuntarily, she swallowed.

“Ahhhh…. That’s right, you little whore. Suck my cock…” crooned Razorjaw as he felt her mouth stiffen and clamp helplessly around him. Then with a laugh, he began to pump the gigantic phallus in and out of her pink lips.

The heroine moaned throatily as Razorjaw raped her face, the taste of his cock bringing up unwanted visions in her mind of her man… Doc Burnsides… forcefully taking her mouth. And of all the audience, watching as her lips were used thoroughly as a sex hole. The smell of Razorjaw’s excitement assaulted her senses as her tongue unconsciously ran itself along the flanks of his meat, sending shivers of pleasure along the villain’s shaft.

As the wet sound of her mouth being used by the brutal villain echoed within the chamber, another sound came to Sparkle Star’s ears. The gentle, clopping sound of hoofs against cement as a presence loomed behind her. And then a thin, reedy laugh cackled, mixing with the softly excited exhales and vicious chuckles that rumbled from Razorjaw’s chest.

“Satyrn, it’s about time you showed up,” grunted Razorjaw.

“Baphotaur wanted to make sure there were some extra precautions taken… just in case…” wheezed the voice identified as Satyrn. Sparkle Star hummed in distress as a sharp-nailed hand was placed upon the curve of her costumed ass, and slid upwards towards her waist from behind.

Razorjaw grunted and groaned as he probed Sparkle’s mouth deeply, causing the heroine to gag and whimper. “What’d he say?”

“Only that he’ll be along soon,” replied Satyrn, “But, he said for you and I to go along as planned.” Suddenly, Satyrn’s ugly visage loomed off to the side of Sparkle Star’s vision. Bright gold fur, trimmed in a blazing lion’s mane outlined Satyrn’s grinning mouth. Her eyes widening in shock, she could see the tusks jutting from the horrible creature’s face, and stare into the unblinking red eyes. It was the goat-man, in the flesh.

Razorjaw grinned, “Go along as planned?” His hands tightened upon Sparkle Star’s head.

“Of course! To fuck this bitch of a superheroine into a mewling pile of jelly,” laughed Satyrn with a horrible rasp, “And good thing too. Because I’ve been feeling awfully peckish.”

Sparkle Star moaned as she heard her fate, and she tried to beg around the deeply penetrating cock, “Nnnnn… plll…. Nnnn….”

But, the creature known as Satyrn would hear none of it. And in one swift motion, he tore away the bottom half of Sparkle Star’s costume, exposing her ass and sex to the audience. Beautiful round cheeks wagged suggestively as she tried to struggle away from him. “Oh yes,” sneered Satyrn, “You are quite ready. Razorjaw, my friend. It seems that sucking on your meat has gotten this little flag waver all excited.” A claw ran along the lips of her cunt, cool with moisture in the air, causing her to shiver helplessly. “That’s right… one heroine fucked into jelly, coming up…”

Razorjaw laughed and slide his huge pole deep into her throat.

Sparkle Star tried to scream as a second massive cock entered her body. She could feel it, thick and hard ramming into her unprotected pussy. Whatever he was, Satyrn was no gentleman. Just an angry, rutting stag. With the ferocity of a bezerk, his gigantic penis stretched her dripping, aroused slit, her vaginal lips gaping around the massive head and veined cock as he began to jack-hammer it in and out of her bound body. Pound… pound… pound… pound… her body exploded damply with each stroke, her pussy churning wetly and echoing off of the walls of the room.

Oh god… her mind whimpered, her eyes screwing tight as she tried to will the offending penetrations away into a dark corner of her mind. Razorjaw, encouraged by Satyrn’s enthusiastic pounding, began increasing the speed and violence of his mouth fuck, and it was all that Sparkle could do to keep her mind from falling apart. They’re so deep… she sobbed… and so hard… And suddenly, to her horror, she began to lose control.

In and out and in and out, the cocks raped Sparkle Star’s athletic body, thumping her from both ends relentlessly and without mercy. The two villains, using her bulk like a cheap doll, grunted and drooled as they strained to force their cocks to meet somewhere in the middle of the heroine’s mass. Her breasts, still bound by her costume, swayed with each thrust… providing an enticing accessory for her spectators to watch.

“Take it,” hissed Razorjaw, warming to his mantra, “Take it all…. Take it.” She mewled helplessly as she did, again and again. Her eyes began to roll to the back of her head, as her mind began to weaken and fracture.

Meanwhile, behind her, Satyrns’ wheezy voice encouraged the shudders that ran unwillingly through her body, “That’s right… little Sparkle Star… let it come. You’ll be in the jealous eye of every nymph and woodsprite for having the honor of being fucked into a jibbering slut by a satyr of my stature.”

Nnn… nooo… Sparkle’s mind pleaded to her body. She could feel each thrust, each penetration, as her body was used heartlessly by the villains. The cruel shape of the hot and hard cock, curving deep within her core. And with each breach into her center, her body shook all the harder with erotic fire. She was losing. Can’t… can’t let them…

But, deep in her mind, she knew her body was already lost. She could feel each contour of the thick cock, stretching the lips of her snatch, rubbing devastatingly against her sensitive nub, and stroking in deep… running along each fold and curve of her sex. A devious finger nail had slid beneath her, tickling the thick patch of blond hair that rested above her tender slot – and then down to tease her defiant clit. She could feel her juices drop and dribble messily down her thigh, splattering after each plunge into her body, each sloshing splash an audible betrayal of her body. The sloppy sound of a heroine surrendering to relentless defeat.

And the cock, in the back of her throat, thrusting… dragging out drool and rubbing the salty taste of Razorjaw’s precum about her mouth. She could feel him, throbbing… wanting to release itself…

And then… Nnnn…. No… please… can’t… can’t stop…! But it was too late. She had no will left. And then suddenly, she broke. The defeated heroine came like the roaring surf. Her body seized as overpowering pleasure crashed through her nerves and mind, sending forced delight by the thunderbolt through the helpless heroine’s body. “Ahhhhhh… nnnn….” She screamed around Razorjaw’s cock as her body exploded with juice.

“Ah yes…” laughed Razorjaw as she practically swallowed his prick, “That’s right you little super cunt.”

His partner in rape, Satyrn laughed and clacked his hoofs happily upon the concrete floor. He surveyed the cum-twisting heroine, “And now the real fun begins.”

All Sparkle Star could do was moan as the villain’s hands tightened on her body, and truly began to fuck her shuddering love-orifices without reservation. She had no will left to fight off a second impending orgasm that began to grow on the tail end of its brutal predecessor. Their purpose was obvious, to completely destroy the heroine by making her cum to death. And there was nothing that Sparkle Star to do about it, except enjoy the ride. It was with that thought in her mind that seconds later she came again, choking out in blinding orgasm and hot burning, thick cum as Razorjaw lost his wad deep into the back of her throat. This mind melting orgasm caused her body to seize and seize in mindless bliss around the invading men.

Grabbing her head with both hands, the vicious villain buried his cock and filled her throat with strand after explosive strand of his jism, “That’s right, you little bitch of a heroine… swallow it all.”

* * *

Allure pulled the car to a stop outside of the seedy looking, one-story building before turning off the ignition. The parking lot was rather full and was poorly lit, but for the blazing neon sign in blood red that blinked on and off in syncopated rhythm: “Umber” & “Holk”. The Umberholk.

Beside her, Nike sat very quietly. Normally, she would have been in the driver-seat, as it was her car – a modified Lamborghini Diablo, kitted out in her trademark blue and red with racing stripes and a wicked spoiler. The (wince) Victorymobile.

Allure gazed towards the entrance, a heavy door guarded by two burly bouncers. “What now?”

Wincing, Nike sighed, “Well… there’s nothing to it.”

“Oh my god… you think we should…?”

“Yes. Go through the front door! How else are we going to get to the stairway down to the basement?”

Allure sighed, “I was hoping you weren’t going to say that.”

Tugging on the door handle, Nike grit her teeth and took a deep breath as she climbed out of the car. Watching Nike move so smoothly, Allure could not shake the feeling that she was the one that was completely outclassed.

Well… she thought… nothing to it. And she climbed out herself.

As the Lamborghini was locked, the beep that echoed from its hood sounded far more sorrowful than she would have liked. Almost as if… it were saying Goodbye.

* * *

“Hah… hah… HAH! AaaaaaAAAHHH!!” cried the heroine as the two massive cocks penetrated her body deeply again and again and again. Sparkle Star lost count of how many times her body had peaked, only that she knew that it was coming more frequently now, practically right on top of each other ever since Razorjaw forced her to choke down all of his spunk. She could still feel the searing cum dribbling from her nose and her mouth, staining the front of her suit, he shot so much into her.

But the vile man had hardly been done with her, after filling her belly with his burning seed, he withdrew his cock from her bruised lips and wiped the sticky mess on her face. “What?” he grinned to her whimpering protest, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like that. Aw… that’s too bad.”

Behind her, Satyrn had grunted, ramming his prick home with a squeal, “No… she likes it. I can feel her snatch clawing its way around my cock.”

“Heh, I bet she does, the slut…” sneered Razorjaw as he grabbed hold of the chain to yank Sparkle Star’s body up higher a bit. “Move over, buddy… there’s still a hole that hasn’t been explored.”

“Nnnn…” choked Sparkle Star as Satyrn backed his cum-marbled dick from her dripping slit.

With a laugh, Satyrn slipped beneath the slender heroine, maneuvering her hips above his still granite-hard cock. Behind her, she felt Razorjaw reposition himself – “And now, babe, it’s time for BOTH barrels.”

Sparkle Star cried out desperately, “Nnn… no!”, globs of cum spittling from her lips.

“You, girlie,” chortled Razorjaw, “Have absolutely no say.”

Crying and sobbing as she felt the heat of the two, gigantic cocks press against her aching nether-region, she could hear the chants of the spectators, “Spike her! Spike her! Spike her! Spike her!”

“Please… Not both of you…” she heard herself beg, “You’re… t-too big… you’ll split me in half…!”

Razorjaw smiled toothily as he leaned into her, his thick head pressing against the puckered ass. At her ear, he murmered, “There is something you could do about that, lass…”

“Wha- what?” she sobbed, “Please, don’t hurt me…”

“I asked you about it before, girlie… don’t you remember? Here’s your chance, you tight little twat. Say it…”

“No… no! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she begged.

“Yes you do. Say it,” ordered the villain.

“I… I can’t!”

“Then your innards will be torn in two,” the man rasped.

Sparkle Star could feel tears running down her cheeks, “No… no… don’t make me, please!”

“Fine then, you’ll never walk again after we’re through with you, you little cunt…” Snarled Razorjaw as he surged forward.

“No!” screamed Sparkle Star, “Please!”

Beneath her, Satyrn chortled with delight as he grasped her hips, pulling her down.

“No!” Sparkle Star’s voice wailed, before crying out in defeat, finally sobbing out, “F-for Justice… and Virtue!”

She immediately wished she hadn’t said it… but it was too late. She felt the power flowing through her veins then, the strength, the constitution, the invulnerability brought on by the power of Patriotism. And then she was impaled, brutally, again and again and again. Then, to her shame, she came harder than she had ever came before, her body tightening uncontrollably around the unyielding men that ravished her cunt and ass, finally able to take the super-powered thrusts that they unleashed into her sensitive interior. Each plundering drive bottoming out, slapping sticky cum filled sacks of balls against her invulnerable skin over and over. Her body shook as her pussy exploded, dripping her precious nectar down the thick shaft that buried itself completely in to her. She was no longer a superheroine, but a quivering receptacle for cock and cum. She was broken.

“That’s right…” urged Razorjaw through her raw screams of pleasure, “Take it all. Take it like a good little soldier.”

* * *

Allure never knew that such screams of terror could come from men. But they did, especially as they were thrown through the air and into the massive plasma screen televisions that papered the wall, crashing into them and then slumping like sacks of shit as they puddled to the floor. Certainly, such high pitched cries did not come from that bald bouncer…

… or maybe it was the other men, dodging out of the way, ducking beneath tables and flattening against the floor, some pointing at the destruction of the beloved large televisions… others rushing towards the exits in which the bare-breasted beauties in thongs had disappeared into when the fight started. Either way, it gave Allure a certain thrill to trash the place.

“Allure!” cried out Nike, “What are you doing… come on! Over here!” Somehow the Mistress of Victory’s voice managed to cut above the mayhem.

Allure nodded, ducking beneath the overhand blow from another burly bouncer, before rabbit-punching the man in the hard belly. Usually, it wouldn’t have done any good, and she would have probably hurt herself more than him by doing that, for his belly was as hard as a washboard… but with the added force of her telekinesis shielding her fist, her punch generated far more power than she could have ever produced herself, causing the man to double up and over, collapsing to the ground. “Coming!”

All around them, patrons were heading for the exits fleeing the two women as they made their way to the basement staircase. “Is it always this loud in these places?” shouted Nike.

“What?!”

“I SAID… is it always so loud in these places?!”

‘How would *I* know? I can’t hear a damn thing!”

Nike rolled her eyes and gestured to the stairs, “Come on!”

Charging down the stairs, Nike and Allure made their way into the labyrinth that was the basement of the Umberholk. As they turned corner after corner moving away from the staircase and the health hazard that was the floor above, the sound of shrieking men faded away in the distance… only to be replaced by the faint sounds of chanting. It was an ominous sounding chant, like college undergrads hooting and hollering during a football game.

“Oh god, I can hear now… sorta…” grumbled Allure.

Nike nodded as they walked briskly along the hallways, kicking in each door, and passing storage rooms filled with food, alcohol, and… a personal sort of dungeon? Both heroines stopped abruptly as they looked into the grisly looking room, with whips and chains, and tables of torture and excess.

Painted in black, it was like no dungeon that Allure had ever imagined – no stone walls, no iron maidens, no thumb screws. Just places for people to be whipped, bound, tied, and… dominated. Allure tilted her head, listening through the ringing in her ears.

“Nike! I think someone’s in there… I heard a groan,” murmured Allure.

Nike frowned and took a few cautious steps into the room, listening intently. There was definitely someone in there. Sliding behind a vertical leaning table, Nike peered at the far end of the dungeon… and there she saw him.

Coming up behind her, Allure peered around Nike’s arm, “Is… is that?”

Nodding, Nike’s lips tightened together as she moved through the room quickly. “Yes, it’s Growltiger.”

Indeed, it was the Lieutenant of the Invicibles, the massive bipedal cat… a giant man of fur and claws, hanging limply against the far wall by his wrists. His once fine orange fur was mottled brown and crusty with what Nike could only assume was blood. And where his coat lay close to his skin, all along his chest where fur was ripped out or shaved, long slash marks of whips criss-crossed his flesh. How they had managed to capture him, Nike hadn’t a clue. He was tall and very strong… and…

“… so big…” whispered Allure in an astonished voice that carried through the otherwise empty dungeon.

Nike blinked. Those that did this to him had taken the colossal cat’s loincloth, leaving his entire body exposed. Allure… her mind whined… why’d you have to say that?! Up until the point that Allure had pointed it out, Nike had adamantly been looking at the rest of the muscular hero, knowing full well that the sight of Growltiger’s… shaved… thick… monstrous… animal cock would get her mind going again… going where she couldn’t stop it, where she had been trying to get away from for the last week.

But, Allure was right… he was big. So immense! As Allure hurried by with burning cheeks to strike the switch that lowered the substantial hero to the ground, allowing him to crumple to the floor like a marionette that’s lost it’s strings, Nike’s hand reached out like that of an automaton… gloved fingers extending to brush along the shaved fur that ran along his limp, but very lengthy penis. As her hand touched the organ, she could swear she felt the warmth glowing from it. Alive… so alive. Her hand closed around the girth of his cock.

Suddenly, Growltiger’s eyes flew open --- panting, wild, crazed… “No… no! You bastards… you stinking bastards!”

Immediately, Nike’s hand flew away, her eyes moving to meet the hero’s, “Growltiger! It’s Nike… of the Strange Defenders!”

Growltiger’s breath came in heaves, a peculiar whining hissing forth from the back of his throat, as if he were bringing up a messy hairball. “No… get away from her, don’t… don’t!” his eyes were bloodshot red, and dilated, his voice rasping… panicked.

Allure glanced to Nike once, “Is it Sparkle Star? Where is she, Growltiger? We’re here to save you… and her!”

Suddenly, Growltiger’s face lifted and seemed to focus… his eyes flew from Allure, and then honed in on Nike’s intent expression, “Nike…?” he whispered in recognition, “D-damn… they got us, in the Prison… they caught us like rats in… in a cage.”

“She’s here then?” asked Nike.

Tiredly, and wincing from pain, Growltiger nodded his head slowly, “I… I think so. They planned… planned to display her like… like a show!”

Nike and Allure looked at each other. “A show?…” the Mistress of Victory whispered. Both heroines could only think of one kind of show that might be in a place such as this.

Allure’s gaze turned back towards the doorway to the hall, “That faint chanting we heard…”

“Help her…” hissed Growltiger, his eyes growing heavy, weary from his wounds. “Help… her…!” before falling unconscious on the cold floor.

Swiftly, Allure rose to her feet and moved to the door, listening again. Yes, there it was, that chanting once again.

“That’s what he must be talking about, Nike,” Allure said, “Which direction are they though? I can’t hear…”

Nike, after gingerly arranging Growltiger’s unconscious form, followed Allure to the doorway. “This way, I think.,” she sighed, glancing back lingeringly towards Growltiger’s body before moving off down the hallway.

Allure scrunched her nose as she watched her friend move without the normal fluid, confident motions that she was used to. Nike paused at each doorway to listen, to breathe, and then move a few steps further. Sighing, Allure bit her lip, and then followed her friend into the shadowed hall.

* * *

“AH! AH! AHHH! AH! AHHHH!” screamed Sparkle Star through panting, saliva slobbering lips. Her eyes were now wide with mindless sensation as the two villains rammed and pounded and fucked her helpless body into shock.

Deep… so deep… so deep…. Cumming… hard… too hard… again… again… again… her mind yammered between vicious thrusts, her conscious mind reduced to repeating itself numbly. Both of her assailants taking her tight, sex slots as deep and fast as they could, their ragged cries animal in their viciousness. C-can’t stop… can’t stop… again… again… nn…. Nnnn….. ‘NNNNAANNAAAHAHAH!!!!”

*REAM*… *REAM* … *REAM* … *REAM* …

She orgasmed again, her pussy constricting around the base of the harsh man meat, begging for it to stay fulfillingly within her body. But to no avail, as she couldn’t prevent it from dragging itself out along her clit and plowing fully back into her abused sheath with unchecked violence. “AHHHHH! Huh…huh… AAAAHAAAHAHAHAHHA!!!!!” Hard orgasm on top of hard orgasm destroyed her over and over again.

Heedless of her mindless pleasure, the two villains plunged their bloated probes deep within her orifices uncaringly. Relishing her helpless, desperate cries, they made sure the drooling heroine could feel each rough drag, each undefended stretch, each blazing hot exploration of her crevices as fast and powerfully as they could. And together, as one, the two virile supervillians filled her body with their thick, hot cum… coating her innards with their burning messes.

“Nnnn…Nnnn….NNnnnnnn…” she moaned and sobbed as she felt burst after burst of their vile strands flooding her innards, soaking into her raped holes and blasting along every wall and every crease. A detached part of her ruined mind weighed and marveled at the amount of cum that filled her center, an endless river that packed her belly and then overflowed out and around the thick cocks to pour into a sticky pool of oppressive white.

Breathing hard, Sparkle Star hung limply in her chains as the two villains slowly recovered, buried balls deep into her body. “Nnn-noo…” she moaned helpless, “So… so much cum… in me… hot…”

Hissing between his teeth, Satyr blinked in astonishment, “How is it possible for you to form words still?”

Razorjaw grinned, “She’s more game than I thought.” Powerful villainous hands tightened about Sparkle Star’s narrow waist.

Gasping… heaving, her ample bosom shook with effort, “H-how…? No… please… you’re still hard…! How c-can you still be so big… hard…?”

Grinning, Razorjaw began to drag his monster cock out of her ass… then with a grunt, shoved it all the way back in, forcing thick jism to explode all over her abused anus to the floor. Sparkle Star screamed…. “N-no more…! I beg of you… n-no moreeeeeaaaaaaahahaAAAHAHAHHHHHH!”

The powerful pistons began again, relentlessly plunging in and out of her body, drawing tortured, pleasure laden scream after scream, even as they churned and ferociously forced their deposited seed out of her body. They won’t stop… she sobbed… they’re fucking me to death!

“Oh my god…” hissed Allure, looking down upon the tableau below them. Emerging onto a metal landing from the warren like hallways they had crept through, with stairs leading down into a large amphitheater, the two superheroines found out that they were too late. The vile ones had already begun to abuse Sparkle Star, and by the amount of cum pooling all around them and dripping from her bound body, they had been at it for some time.

Next to her, Nike’s lips pressed tightly, wordlessly. What must she be thinking, wondered Allure? Her cheeks, so red. Anger? Or that strange, powerful desire she felt earlier.

Allure frowned and returned her narrowed gaze to the boisterous crowd, “We can’t let them do this, Nike! We can’t! There’s so many of them, though…”

Nike looked away, unable to watch as the villains took the busty Invincible again and again and again. “No, Allure,” she replied angrily, “We can’t.”

Allure nodded, taking a deep breath, “We’ll stop the two abusers first.”

Nike nodded, making a clear effort to put her game face on, “Good idea. Take out the two bastards first and… and… make them stop. It should cow the crowd.”

“Right,” agreed the rookie heroine, before hesitating, “A-are you sure it’ll intimidate them?”

“Yep… We’ve done it before.”

“Alright,” Allure exhaled. Steeling herself and drawing herself to her full height, the white clad heroine folded her arms. “Lets get on with it, I can’t listen to this much longer.”

“Right,” Nike nodded, gripping the metal railing, preparing herself to leap over the side and drop down into the center of the stage. “On three… One…”

“Two…”

“Three…”

More cum… so much cum… no… I’m coming again! Cumming again…! Sparkle Star shook helplessly as she was blinded by overloading bliss. Once more, the spurting, spraying seed filled her thoroughly again and exploded out of her spilling sex.

“Ah! Ah! AAAAH!!” roared Satyrn as he jammed his meat into her oversensitive quim, forcing load after load of his potent maleness into her plastered womb. “Oh yeah…! There’s more where that came from… I’ve got at least three more balls full for yo- AARRRGH!!”

Through his squinting eyes, the last thing the cumming villain expected was a powerful, red boot smashing down into his face, crashing it back into the cold concrete floor. The impact so powerful, that the concrete cracked and starred away from the back of his furry-maned head as if struck by a massive mallet.

“What th-“ snarled Razorjaw, backing his penetrating cock out of Sparkle Star’s gaping ass. There, like a bolt of lightning leaping onto Satyrn’s face, was that nasty athletic cunt Nike, with her stupid track-suit and her red, “ray-charles” goggles! “You! How’d you get here--!” he bellowed, pulling his rock hard tool free, when suddenly he was hit from the side by a semi-truck and sent sliding headfirst towards a scattering group of onlookers. The bleachers that the spectators scattered off of crashed and flew apart from the powerful villain’s impact.

Shaken, and vaguely wondering what hit him, Razorjaw rose to his feet and gnashed his teeth, a bull with blood in his eye, “Who hit me? Who HIT ME?!” Rising to his feet, he clenched his fist, searching for his opponent, only to see a slender, voluptuous figure alighting delicately to the ground a few feet away from the bound Sparkle Star.

“Ahm…” she murmured sexily, “That was me.” And then she smiled, “And if you have to know, we came through the front door.”

Razorjaw grunted, rubbing the side of his head. What had this hot little piece of bitch-meat, with the slip of a nothing skirt, and the tit-tight white leotard hit him with? Whatever… “Wait… I sort of recognize you…” he muttered, as a memory of a metal door being ripped off of its tracks came to mind. “You were with that chicken-shit Praetorian!”

“Chicken-shit?” snorted the petite heroine, folding her arms, “If I recall, he beat you one on one… fair and square.” As if to accentuate her point, on the other side of the bound Sparkle Star, the sickening thunks of flesh meeting flesh meeting concrete could be heard, causing the white-clad heroine to wince slightly. Nike was taking advantage of Satyrn’s orgasm stunning to pound the creepy mythological dick-on-legs even further into the concrete.

The villain snarled angrily as his fists clenched into powerful hamfists. Advancing quickly to a trot and then a run, Razorjaw flew straight towards the taunting heroine, “We’ll see how you remember things after I pound that face of yours and use your pretty mouth to tickle my balls!”

Allure started in surprise at how quickly that Razorjaw built up speed, the massive villain nearly upon her before she even thought to raise her hands in defense. Fists the size of irons pulled back, ready to knock her back into the last century. Flinching and ducking, Allure threw her mind to shield herself from the charging villain – and instead of smashing into a frail looking heroine, Razorjaw smashed painfully into an unyielding telekinetic wall.

“ARRGH!” cried out Razorjaw as his face smashed into an invisible force field, flattening with the impact. And then, to his astonishment, his momentum shifted as the powerful force field grabbed him and threw him tumbling passed the little girl superheroine and into the wall behind.

The whole room seemed to shake with Razorjaw’s impact as Allure swung around, once again poised for battle with a pointed index finger extended towards the upside-down villain – pinning him forcefully and crushing his indestructible form against the crumbling wall. Frowning, the rookie heroine narrowed her eyes and focused her will to immobilize the struggling villain, beads of sweat forming on her brow and soaking into the fabric mask about her eyes. Suddenly, however, the sound of a meaty impact jarred Allure from her concentration.

Punch after punch rained down upon Satyrn’s face, splattering the weird yellow pus that passed for his blood into the pulls of jism that surrounded Sparkle Star. Nike, her face a mask, raised her fist again and again, knowing that if she ever lost the upper hand against this foe, she might not get it back. But as much as she pounded him into paste, his hatefully glowing red eyes blinked back at her, fighting to recover from the blows. Emerging from around Sparkle Star’s body, a clawed hand grasped and blocked, deflecting a punch. Another one, reaching around from the other side, groping for Nike’s wrist, and then catching it as it connected with his nose.

“Let go!” Nike snarled, bunching her legs beneath her to ram her knee into his chin… but the villainous goat-man was strong as he pulled her struggling form down towards him by the wrist. “Crap!” she gasped, swinging again to get him to release her, when suddenly, his own fist rocketed onto her chin, knocking her back and away in a painful cloud of stars and lightning.

Allure shouted as she saw the vertically punching arm connect into the face of her friend, and send the Mistress of Victory careening over the hanging, bound Sparkle Star, grasping for a handhold, but slipping on her cum-slick costume.

With a huffing wheeze, Satyrn rolled from beneath the helpless Sparkle Star to his feet, pulling himself to a better defensive position. He had struck the Mistress of Victory good and hard, but he himself was not in the best condition either. For all the damage that his formidable body could take, Nike had pulped his face quite well, leaving it bleeding and lumpy with bruises. “I’ll git yoo,” he burbled. Curling his clawed hands, ready to scratch and tear at Nike, Satyrn gathered himself to spring.

Climbing to her feet, slipping only slightly in a pool of man essence, Nike smiled briefly, something like her old self once more, “Not if I get you first.” Her fists balled and rose defiantly.

Allure glanced once more over her shoulder, hoping that her friend had the dirty goat-man taken care of. Razorjaw was proving difficult to pin, his immense strength forcing her to use more and more of her energy reserve to keep him pinned.

“You know it’s useless, don’t you?” chuckled Razorjaw, straining against his bonds.

Allure transferred her glare back to the bald criminal, her one finger pointing at him turning in to two as she forced more of her will against him. “I don’t think so, Razorjaw. You’re out of this fight, and your ugly friend is going to get beat up by a girl,” she replied breathlessly.

Gasping at the amount of pressure Allure pressed into him, Razorjaw nevertheless grinned viciously, his sharpened teeth glinting in the light. “That… may be the case,” he admitted, for indeed it felt like he was being crushed by a cement truck, “But you forget one thing.”

The rookie heroine sniffed, “And what is that?”

“You forget that we… Satyrn and I… are not your only opponents.”

Allure frowned. And it was only then, that she heard the hubbub of men gathering at the edge of the darkness. Turning, she glanced around her to find that a sizable group of men had gathered together, slowly inching their way towards herself and Nike. Damn! She had assumed, like those cowards on the main floor, that the spectators had fled. And to be truthful, some of them did! But the rest, a good fifteen or so, were vicious looking toughs not so easily scared.

Raising her other hand, Allure splayed her fingers towards the advancing group, “Stray back! Don’t make me hurt you.”

The room seemed to grind to a halt from her threat, as thugs looked from Allure to Razorjaw, from Razorjaw to Nike, and finally from Nike to the battered Satyrn. Allure knew she probably couldn’t take them all… but she hoped, prayed, that they didn’t know that.

But Razorjaw, who never took his eyes from the rookie heroine’s face knew… and smiled… and began to chuckle. His chuckle turned into a laugh, which turned into a full bellied guffaw, inviting the thugs to join in. And soon, the room was filled with the laughter of the superheroine’s enemies.

Allure gritted her teeth, even as Nike tried to free the sex-addled Sparkle Star from her bonds with one hand, and keep her guard up with the other. As the laughter continued on and on, it only seemed to grow louder, as if more voices joined the chorus, ringing from the ceiling. It was only then, that Allure noticed that it all wasn’t just in her imagination… indeed there were more voices in the room than she could account for. Raising her eyes, she followed a particularly deep booming chortle up the stairs to the doorway that both she and Nike had entered the room with. And the sight there caught her breath.

There, lining the stairs and crowding the landing overlooking the amphitheater, another massive group of thugs looked down upon them, their confident smiles knowing that they had the three superheroines vastly outnumbered. And even worse, the deep, deep, belly full laughter that resonated from the shadowy figure in the doorway exit. A massive creature, with soulless black eyes and powerful, bulging muscles. It pushed through the crowded landing with its bulk alone to stare balefully down upon Allure.

Allure gasped. Who… what… was it? She knew what it was, but she never figured they were real, or that she would ever see one. Sharp horns protruded from its head, and steam rushed from its damp snout. Pushing to the railing, it laughed again, overpowering the combined voices of the thugs and the two villains below. It was a minotaur! Bigger than Satyrn, bigger than Razorjaw. Bigger than any creature she’s ever seen!

Clacking its teeth as it clamped its mouth together, the massive minotaur growled as it surveyed the scene below. Under the black glare, the thugs quailed slightly, moving away from his direct gaze as it took in the room. Here was a demigod, a child of almighty Zeus! Who were they, mere mortals, to be worthy of his attention?

Nike’s lips pressed together as she finally worked Sparkle Star from her hanging chain, letting the softly moaning superheroine slowly to the floor. Turning now to face the mythical horned demigod, Nike folded her arms. “So,” she asked casually, “Who let all the farm animals out?”

There was a collective intake of breath as the thugs looked from Nike up to the massive mountain of muscle that was the minotaur. But the minotaur laughed, “Impudent female. You should be more submissive. Obviously, you haven’t been mounted enough by your bull.” Apprehensive laughter tittered about the room, as the thugs tried to make something of the minotaur’s words, but weren’t sure if it was a joke or not. Ignoring his minions, the minotaur continued on, “You shall regret your sharp words, little female, for you bask in the glory of a Demigod. I am Baphotaur! And you will be my slaves!” His last words rang loudly, angrily in the room.

Allure glanced towards her friend and watched nervously as Nike reached up to tighten her goggles at the back of her head. How Nike could be so calm at a time like this, she wasn’t sure, but it was clear to Allure, that when Nike looked back up, her friend was not at all impressed by the creature’s – Baphotaur’s – threats.

Folding her arms once more, Nike inspected the minotaur as if she were inspecting a piece of meat, “So… you are Baphotaur. And you are supposed to be a Demigod? Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing but a mutant with delusions of grandeur.”

The thugs gasped, and Baphotaur bellowed in affront. But Nike cut across the roar, her voice mocking acid, sizzling across the creature’s ego, “One of those bulls that got his balls fried and ate after he was neutered.”

Baphotaur’s roar was deafening, “You shall not speak to me with disrespect!”

But Nike’s voice rose, matching the angry shouts, “I shall speak to you as a barnyard reject deserves!”

“I am Baphotaur!! Be afraid!” roared the minotaur, pounding on the railing and shaking the room with the thunder of his voice. The ground seemed to shake, and Allure paled along with the other thugs in the room. Even Razorjaw and Satyrn ceased their wheezing chuckles to stare at the angry Demigod.

Only then did Nike smile, clearly in her element, her arms unfolding and her fists clenching defiantly. Her clear voice carried in the vacuum of silence that was left in the wake of Baphotaur’s shout: “And I, oh bovine-brained Demigod, am Nike! Mistress of Victory!” The ritual exchange of names having been satisfied, her teeth flashed in challenge, “And if you choose to come down here, you shall find out why it is you who should fear ME!”

Again, the room was silent and still. Moments ticked away. Finally, the landing creaked, and the metal railing shrieked as the minotaur leaned over and leapt in an eerie echo of the heroines before him, to the concrete below. Crashing to the ground between Allure and Nike, Baphotaur huffed, “So be it. We shall see.”

“Yes,” agreed Nike, falling back into her fighting stance, “We shall see.”

End Chapter