A story by Ceramic: ceramic762@yahoo.com

In our previous episode: “Saving Star Spangled Soldier”

Cock and jizz. More cock and jizz. Even MORE cock and jizz. Will it never end?

Slick and Sweat

… *Seep* …

… *Seep* …

… *Seep* …

Thick globs of cum trickled and splattered to the cement floor, pooling where she lay, face down with her thighs spread wide. She could feel her overly tender slit shuddering and quavering uncontrollably as her used pelvic muscles clenched and clenched, begging for the penetrating cock that was suddenly denied to her. Whimpering softly, she scrunched and stretched her bound hands, begging and pleading for the curved probe to return. But, it never came. Instead, her slowly returning senses began to hear other sounds… deep, masculine grunting, virile smacks of flesh on flesh, and an occasional bellow. There were other things going on around her, but she could barely focus. The smell of man filled her nostrils.

Oh… god… she trembled, so sensitive… must… must have…

Spreading her legs wider, she pressed her pelvis into the thick pool of hot man-jism, the same hot cream that still poured thickly from her ravished sex, and tried to rub the lips of her well used pussy on the rough floor, plaintively… desperately. No, no use. Her wrists! She had to free herself.

With a burst of strength, she yanked her wrists apart, the metal braces exploding in a shower of steel and parts, spilling and clattering to the cement before. Immediately, her hands sped down between her legs, rubbing furiously at her aching nub, her fingers plunging and curling deeply into her abused pussy… pumping frantically. Please… please… please…

Even as her body began to buck and shake, rapidly building to her peak, her cheek pushed into a sticky pool of juices to prop up her furiously fingering body. F-faster… must… must… she mind whimpered… must cum! Please cum!

And then suddenly, her fingers pressed into a most delicate spot, and her eyes flew open wide as hot, molten pleasure exploded from every nerve in her body, blasting through her again and again and again as her own hands mercilessly coaxed each blinding orgasm from her abused form. Her wordless, desire-filled scream echoed amongst the crashing and shouting that reverberated about the room. Filled with a fiery seizure, she opened her mouth wide, lapping at the cum-stained floor, taking up heavy splotches of the salty sex between her lips.

Several eternities passed, as she shook and spasmed uncontrollably, her eyes staring sightlessly at the back of a great two-legged beast in the distance as it swung and moved and capered about, as if caught up in an intricate dance; And then stomping and crashing to the side as if thrown from a catapult, roaring in fury. Even as her fingers began working again and she rolled to her side to arched her back in frustration, her eyes fastened upon the red and blue blur that charged and leapt after the falling beast-man with flying pony-tail and flashing fists.

Her sigh caught in her chest as she wished her own hands could move so quickly… But it didn’t matter as she arched again, her feminine nectar discharged between her sticky penetrating digits, mixing with the thick man-plaster that coated her inner thighs. Although much slower, her own fingers were plenty effective. But then, the fingers of the superheroine known as Sparkle Star would be powerful indeed, even if she could not remember that that was who she was.

* * *

“Ugh… heavy…” muttered Nike as she caught Baphotaur’s huge arm beneath a clumsy haymaker. Her muscles straining, she used his awkward momentum and hurled the supposed demigod over her shoulder to send him crashing upon his back some feet away. As he landed, the whole room seemed to shake.

Snorting with the exertion, Nike wanted to stop for a moment and catch her breath, or rub out the ache in her shoulder where the massive, brown, bull-man had landed a lucky blow that drove her face first into the ground. She didn’t think she broke anything, but she wasn’t sure as something grated painfully when she rolled the joint. But she didn’t dare, as the Demigod was powerful, and if she let up any advantage that she had, she would be the one reeling away. The Mistress of Victory glanced over to her battling companion, before leaping into a flying knee-drop upon Baphotaur’s face. True, Nike had the tougher of the three villains – but could Allure take on the other two along with the mob of thugs that eddied about the edges of the battle?

It had all happened so quickly. First, the strange Satyrn creature summoned his massive, cone-tipped spear out of thin air. Then, Allure scarecely had time to dodge as he used it to blast bright bolts of energy towards her, barely grazing her arm and leaving her numb with shock. As if that was bad enough, the pain from the attack caused her mind to lose focus, and suddenly the bald headed villain Razorjaw was released from his telekinetic prison against the wall.

Scrambling away from Razorjaw, Allure blinked away the pain in her arm, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Razorjaw sneered, letting his muscles bunch as he stalked menacingly towards her, knowing that he had the advantage now. Powerful fists clenched, and he lept! “I’m going to squash you like a bug, chickadee, and then shove my cock so far into your cunt that it’ll reach your brain!” he hollered.

Limping, Allure threw herself to the side and away from Razorjaw’s outreaching hands. “That’s,” she retorted raggedly, “If you have a cock left when we’re through with you!” And then, with an angry stab into the air, she threw her good arm up and pointed towards the long metal bleachers that lay tangled and torn from the battle along the wall of the amphitheater. Grabbing a bundle, she hurled the steel beams towards the attacking Razorjaw.

Razorjaw grunted as he turned to see what the little heroine in white was doing, when suddenly, a long steel bar crashed into his throat and began to bend itself about his neck. “Damn you, bit--!” he snarled out, before his voice was suddenly cut short by the crushing, tightening bar about his windpipe. With his eyes bulging, his large powerful hands reached up to pull away the strangling steel, when another bar wrapped itself about his upper arms and chest… and then another around his hips and wrists.

Black dots spun in Allure’s eyes as she pushed her telekinetic strength beyond her usual stamina, wrapping bar after bar around Razorjaw, immobilizing him in permanent steel instead of relying upon her own powers to keep him down. Tighter and tighter, she spun the steel about the villain… her ears growing deaf, but for the sound of pounding blood in her temples.

Through the battle haze, though, a voice penetrated – insistent, adrenaline laced: “Allure! Allure!! Watch out!!!”

“Huh?” muttered Allure to herself, as the voice began to register as her friend, Nike. Reflexively, she threw up a thin telekinetic shield about herself, all the strength left in her mind that she had, as she had done a thousand times in training. It was a weak barrier, but still some sort of protection between herself and unexpected harm. And just in time too as suddenly, she was enveloped in a bright flash as a powerful energy bolt crashed straight into her, knocking her bodily off of her feet and smashing into the floor in immense pain a dozen feet away. “Oh my god,” she gasped, writhing and clawing at the cement floor, her nerves aflame. All she could think of was the pain that raced through every inch of her body.

“’ow wub dat, ya stooped twat!?!” shouted Satyrn with glee, pointing his spear across the room at the prone and smoldering Allure.

Nike winced and backpedaled furiously away from a pulverizing overhand smash from Baphotaur that crashed into the ground like an earthquake. Quickly and worriedly, she tried to see if Allure was okay… but by the way her friend rolled, the Mistress of Victory feared the worst. Allure… are you all right?

But she didn’t have time to dwell upon her friend’s status too long, as she had an opening before her. The last massive attack had left Baphotaur totally open. With a blur of blue and red, she lashed out with the heel of her palm and struck the demigod straight in his snout. In any other creature, she knew, it would have sent his nose straight into his brain, killing him in one blow… but for a mythical creature such as himself, it was nothing but pain. Star addled, tear gushing pain. Bellowing, the minotaur covered his face, his eyes watering, demigod blood pouring from his snout. Nike might as well have torn the ring from his nose.

As the demigod reeled back, staggering from a type of strike he had not received since he was a calf, Nike smiled and struck again and again and again. Her fists and feet blurred with motion as she smashed him in the belly, kicked out his left knee, and… then crushed his balls with a swift kick, if they were there at all underneath the leather loincloth he used to cover his dick.

Bellowing, Baphotaur staggered back step after step, desperately trying to ward himself with his hands from the vicious attacks of the little Nike-girl in front of him. “I shall not be defeated!!! Not like this!” he shouted, “Satyrn! Do something!!!”

Nike gasped as she knew what was coming. One of Satyrn’s energy bolts! Checking her last kick, the Mistress of Victory threw herself to the side, knowing deep down that it was too late. Satyrn, the creepy goat-man, had plenty of time to maneuver and aim, and she knew he would not miss. He would strike some part of her, and if he did not killing her outright, then he would knocking her flat. Baphotaur would recover, and then… it would be over.

“Destroy her!!!” screamed Baphotaur to his subordinate. And suddenly, Nike was illuminated with light.

Cringing, Nike tried to protect herself the best she could with her arms, but she had seen his powerful attacks in action before. The beam was wider than her entire body, there was no way she could protect herself from all of it. Satyrn’s attack was a steady focused blast. He was going to turn Nike into a smearing puddle of pain, and he knew it by the sound of his gleeful cackles. She was surrounded in a field of blinding light.

Moments passed as time seemed to slow about her, and a detached part of Nike’s mind realized that it really didn’t hurt. Not at all like she had expected. She wondered if it was because her nerves were being seared off, or perhaps that she was dying already… and that she no longer had a physical body. No, not quite. She still could feel the bruises that Baphotaur had dealt to her in her fight. What was happening?

And then suddenly, a deep, guttural, wrenching scream that echoed through the amphitheater registered to her ears. For a panic-stricken microsecond, she thought it was herself… but no, it couldn’t be. It wasn’t her voice that she heard, but the scream of a man in colossal pain. It was then that she raised her eyes and stared with surprise into the broad back of the steel bound Razorjaw’s body, white hot light blazing about his edges like the photosphere of the sun. “STOP!!!” he screamed, his face turned to the side, his eyes bugged out wildly in shock and pain, “NO!!! NO!!! STOP!!!”

Stop what? Nike’s bleary mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening. And then she saw her. Nike’s eyes flashed towards her prone friend across the room, to see Allure, battered and in great pain, lifting her hand and crooking her finger towards the floating Razorjaw. The rookie heroine had hurled the bound Razorjaw between Nike and certain doom, using the mighty invulnerable villain as an unwilling shield!

Allure’s eyes burned and tears soaked her mask, mingling with her sweat. It was all she could do to keep the heavy Razorjaw up, shielding Nike from Satyrn’s attack. Even as the last of her strength drained, she could feel Razorjaw’s struggles slowly subsiding, his ragged screaming voice turning into a whimper. And as her arm turned to lead, she knew she couldn’t leave it at that. With a twitch of her finger, she hurled the blasted villain towards Satyr with the force of a steaming locomotive!

And then suddenly she felt something in her mind pop, and all went white and then black.

Satyrn snarled as he blasted all of his hate towards that twiggy Nike. He hated the little twat. The little bitch mashed up his face! She broke his nose! Only Zeus’ balls knew if he still had all of his teeth left. Now, he was going to smear her body all over the amphitheater. When he was through with her, there would be nothing left of that smug smile. And so he blazed away, his hatred turning his attacks into a blinding white that even he could not see his target any longer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his master, Baphotaur, staggering up the stairs towards the exit… trailed by those hanger-oners that kept with him that had not fled the terrible fight. Satyrn cackled loudly, for he knew he would be rewarded well by the demigod for destroying the woman. He could hear her scream.

However something was wrong… that wasn’t the scream of a woman. It was a man. It sounded… remarkably like Razorjaw! And as the body flew towards him, a man-sized brick aimed at his chest, Satyrn’s eyes widened. It WAS Razorjaw!

Razorjaw crashed into Satyrn like a wrecking ball. As Satyrn was thrown bodily back into the concrete wall behind him and crushed, he could hear his bones breaking beneath the impact, his long spear snapping in half across his chest. Air rushed from his lungs as he slid to the floor, feebly trying to push the unconscious body of Razorjaw off of him. What had just happened?

Satyrn’s eyes went bleary for a moment in the pain. All about him, the thugs and onlookers were fleeing the scene, rushing up the stairs, trampling each other in their mad dash to get away. He shook his head, and then stared across the room at the athletic figure, moving not away, but straight towards him. Damn her, it was Nike! Bruised, battered, but… for the most part, in excellent health. And she was looking straight at him, the mocking light of victory dancing in her eyes beyond her goggles. That damned smug smirk. Her fists were balled up, and he knew that she knew that he was dead meat…

Dead meat… the nymphs of the woodlands would cry great rivers for the few seconds that they would remember him by, before another took his place…

Dead meat… that is… if… his gaze narrowed and moved to the left of Nike, towards her feet… and to the puddle of fuck flesh he had left there not too long ago.

More… her mind shuddered. More… must have…

But then, a new voice entered her mind... deep and seductive. It whispered in her ear...

Must have...

Must have... pussy... the voice finished for her. And suddenly, the heroine that was once known as Sparkle Star's eyes flashed open. Standing before her, rising tall like a goddess, the smell of woman flesh contained itself in the a costume of blue and red.

Smiling, Nike stalked towards the crumbled Satyrn, her hands balled into fists. "You are going to jail," she promised.

Satyrn was a hardly fearsome creature he was before, his face brutally crushed, and his body broken, the pieces of his staff scattered all about him. "Dat wut yoo tink..." he burbled, spitting blood.

"What was that? Say that again."

"I SEEEYD, dat wut yoo tink...!!!" shouted Satyrn in frustration.

"Oh," chuckled Nike, placing her fists upon her hips. "Well, maybe they'll be kind enough to fix your nose ther-" Unexpectedly, Nike found her self tackled from behind and slammed painfully to the ground. "What?" she cried out, struggling to pull herself from the grips of her ambusher. Powerful hands grabbed Nike by the hips and hurled her headfirst into a pillar, sending shooting stars and lightning across her eyes.

"Yeees..." crooned Satyrn, his voice growing further away as he made his way towards the stairs and the exit. "Get her my pet..."

"Who?" hissed Nike, dragging herself to her side, only to be struck again in the face, sending her body reeling and sliding along the cold cement floor. Nike blinked away her tears and ripped off her goggles, which had fractured in a cascade of stars like a windshield in a collision. As the goggles skittered away along the concrete, Nike was against a thick concrete pillar.

"Pussy..." hissed Sparkle Star... blearily, as if staggeringly drunk.

"Sparkle Star! What are you doing?!" shrieked Nike as she felt herself turned about once again, her cheek pressed against the cold pillar, her arm wrenched painfully behind her back. "Let go! The fights over!!"

Nike shuddered as she was subdued by Sparkle Star, the cum-layered heroine's surprising strength overpowering her. "Pussy..." the heroine whispered again as she leaned into Nike's back, hands lowering and gliding around the curve of Nike's bottom.

"N-no!" stammered Nike, in shock as she felt Sparkle Star's hands. "No! Snap out of it, Sparkle! He's getting away! That bastard's getting away! He's --" Her words were cut off by an unwanted moan. Sparkle Star had found there way beneath the full cheeks of Nike's ass to the thin covering of material that covered her sex. Powerful fingers, fueled by Patriotism, probed and pressed against Nike's slit, causing her to groan helplessly.

"Pussy..." repeated Sparkle Star... her breath hot against Nike's ear.

"Nuh..." gasped Nike, struggling feebly. No... this couldn't be happening! Goddess! No! Unbidden lust poured into her body as Sparkle Star's strong fingers began to rub the lips of her pussy through her costume. Her mind whirled and the heavy, panting, mind shuddering desire that had plagued her for the last few weeks... begging for cock, dreaming of overwhelming gang-fucks. She had barely been able to keep it all locked away during the battle, but now it crowed and leapt through her. Helplessly she writhed against Sparkle's hand. "Please..." she begged, softly, huskily, "Don't..." Mistress of Vagina... hadn't she been called that before? By who? She couldn't remember.

Fingers spread her steaming twat wide through the fabric, and began to probe into her body. The thin and stretchy cloth straining against rock hard digits like the inadequate latex of a cheap condom over a knobby piece of man-meat, causing Nike to gasp and lean her face into the column. Sweat wet her cheeks as she felt the powerful digits slide to the first knuckle, her costume tearing...

"No," she gasped, struggling... she was going to be finger-raped... fucked hard by the young woman she had come here to save! Her thighs trembled and parting of their own volition at the thought.

Suddenly, her costume gave way... and like seed bursting from the cheap condom, Sparkle Star's two powerful fingers slid deep into Nike's ready, dripping slit.

Nike screamed and bucked against the hand as it slid in deep, curling and penetrating her like the huge dicks that her body dreamed about, begged for, demanded but denied of, for so long. The lips of her pussy stretched as she backed her body up against Sparkle Star, pleading for more, even as she implored, "No! Noooo!"

Sparkle Star whispered, "Pussy..." once more, and curled her invading fingers knowingly, striking Nike's most sensitive spot, deep within her body.

Arching, Nike shrieked and shuddered wordlessly.

Nike didn't know how long she was pinned and finger fucked by Sparkle Star, only after the first orgasm, all she could do was whimper and feel the long, super-powered strokes, and the streams of her sap drip to the floor. Gradually, the super-strength in Sparkle Star's fingers faded... but Nike was too exhausted and pleasured to struggle away from the young woman.

And as suddenly as it began, it was over. The whistle of a whip spinning through the air signaled the end of Sparkle Star's dominant position as a leather bola wrapped itself about her head and slammed her into the same pillar that she pinned Nike to. Long and snake-like, the bola continued to encircle Sparkle Star and the pillar, tying her down neatly, until the ends met and clunked together at the small of her back. Limply, she leaned, wrapped and blinded by the entrapping weapon. "Pussy..."

Freed from Sparkle's grip, Nike sank to the ground, trembling. A dark, shadowy figure rushed up to her.

"Nike... wake up," came a voice, and a gloved hand slapped her cheeks.

"Wha-?"

"It's Pariah!"

"Who...?!" Nike swallowed, her mouth dry. "Pariah?"

"Yes!" came the cultured voice again, impatient... worried... "She was... was... raping you!"

"Yeah..."

"My god! I... I had to stop her!"

"Th-thanks..." Nike covered her eyes and rubbed them hard. She hurt... all over, but there was a needy, tingling sensation coursing through her body... and she wanted more. More sex... more. No... clear your head, girl... "Allure?" she croaked, abruptly remembering her friend. She tried to lift herself up to look.

"Who? The girl in the white? I... I don't know," replied Pariah worriedly. Nike could see the Dark Investigator clearly now: the long black hair, the mirrored, faceless helmet, and purple cape.

"Razorjaw?"

"Fried... like... er... chicken," replied Pariah, hesitantly. The Dark Investigator peered at the steaming, cracked, motionless form of Razorjaw where he lay against the wall. She would have thought him dead, were it not for the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. That man was hard to kill. Pariah shuddered and looked back to Nike, "He's out of the fight, for sure."

"Good..." Finally Nike lifted her head, "And the bull and the... goat?"

"Gone."

Nike sighed, turning to look back at Sparkle Star, partially mummified by Pariah's bola against the pillar. "What made her... do it?"

Pariah shook her head and shivered, quietly listening to a voice in her ear. "Sunwitch says... it's the... s-sea..." She didn't want to say it. "The sem..."

"The cum?"

The Dark Investigator nodded and turned away. Nike could almost imagine the young woman's flush through her mask. "Yes... in her p-pussy. She says that's how fauns control their... harems."

"How does she know that? No... don't answer." Nike swallowed and looked back at the jism soaked Sparkle Star, her eyes running over the cum that covered her ass and her thighs as thick as paint. "There's only one thing to do," whispered Nike, almost to herself.

"What?"

Nike glanced back up to Pariah, a guilty pink touching her cheeks, before jerking her head towards her fallen friend. "Get Allure upstairs," she ordered, her voice stronger than she felt. "Call for back-up, for an ambulance.

"Yes!" Pariah nodded and turned towards the fallen Allure. Sizing her up briefly, Pariah did not think the girl would be that heavy. "What are you going to do?"

The Mistress of Victory looked back to Sparkle Star, "Clean her up."

Pariah noted the catch in Nike's voice, but ignored it as she lifted Allure up into her arms. The Dark Investigator wasn't really much taller than the voluptuous heroine in white, but she was very strong and wiry from the hours of martial arts training she subjected herself to. Only stumbling slightly from the awkwardness of the package in her arms, she climbed the stairs towards the amphitheater exit.

Glancing briefly over her shoulder towards the departing Pariah, Nike turned back towards the still, cum dripping form of Sparkle Star. With her power gone until it was reactivated Sparkle Star was a normal girl, no match for one of Nike's caliber if she decided to resist. Breathing heavily, Nike began to unwind the long bola from around the heroine until she was free and slumped heavily to the ground.

But the Mistress of Victory did not stop, and her hands shook as she propped Sparkle Star against the column, splaying her legs out wide where she sat. Taking up the bola, she secured the patriotic heroine back against the pillar, lifting her arms and tying them above her head to prevent her from struggling. Sparkle Star's head lolled against her chest, unresisting.

Nike shuddered as she crouched down and kneeled before Sparkle's splayed legs. She inhaled the strong scent of man musk that exploded from Sparkle Star's exposed, thoroughly ruined sex. Questions rushed through her mind, unbidden. What was she going to do? There was so much. Why... why had she tied up the poor girl? She was in no condition to resist...

Reaching forward, she slid her finger along the lips of Sparkle's gushing snatch, letting Satyrn's thick cum ooze along the tip. Unthinkingly, Nike drew it to her lips and tasted the sperm... the delicious salt... the essence of man that she had swallowed so much of when she was raped, gang-banged, and used like a cheap, alleyway whore back at the New Albion Museum.

And then all restraint was abandoned. Nike swooped down upon the apex of Sparkle Star's thighs, digging into the gaping cunt with her fingers, scooping out the thick cream and lapping it greedily... hungrily... starved. Her mind was gone, replaced for a time with the fuck-toy that sat alone and unused in her room for the last few weeks. It was this piece of filth's turn now. She would get hers back.

Sparkle Star's hips began to buck and grind, and her eyes fluttered open as Nike's fingers were replaced by her tongue. The villain-fucked superheroine began to gasp and shudder as she lifted her slutty slit to Nike's face, and cried out helplessly as her pink innards were forcibly cleaned by Nike's cum-famished mouth.

Pariah didn't have to hear Sparkle Star's scream of orgasmic bliss as she carried Allure down the hall. She had seen it in Nike's eyes, her hunger... not for revenge, but for the drug that sated her cravings. And of Sparkle Star's too, who had heard every word that was spoken between Pariah and Nike, but sat quietly... demurely, waiting for her punishment at the hands, and mouth, of Nike. Oh yes, Sparkle Star had been awake through their conversation.

Silently, Pariah wondered how long it would take for the two heroines to recover completely: one from the mind controlling semen that plastered the inside of her body, the other from her addiction to cum from repeated gang-rapes and uses. Pariah mentally shrugged. There was little she could do about that... and she wasn't sure she was comfortable enough with the subject to explore that thought further. She had a hurt heroine to get to the hospital.

End Chapter

Author's Note: It has been a long time since I have visited Allure and the Strange Defenders. Other projects, other needs, had called me away. But still, in the back of my mind, a guilty voice reminded me that the story had not been finished. I hope to do so. Thank you for your patience.