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http://www.superheroinecentral.com/~wiz ... s_2015.htm
The deadline approaches for The 2015 Wizard's Lair Short Story Contest, and sometimes it helps to draw inspiration from other great works.
So I ask the forum viewers what their favorite erotic super heroine short stories have been over the decades. What stories inspire you?
For me, one of the top ones would be Mr. X's "The Domination of Wonder Woman". It was the first story I encountered dealing with a heroine in peril. I had been interested in the genre earlier, but the story may have been the one that introduced me to a community of like-minded individuals for the first time.
I also love Dr. Dominator's "Supergirl Captured by the Mob" series. The capture itself was emotional and riveting.
What else? Oh, I guess I'd be lying if I didn't say I get inspired by my own stories. I think it's very important for writers to reread their own material when possible.
Wow, I'm now realizing just how difficult it is to spotlight my favorite stories. As I think more and more about it, more stories pop into my head from some great authors. But I'm more interested in hearing from you. What are your favorite short stories? Please include the author if you can so that we might be able to located the story easier.
Zeta
Favorite Heroine Short Stories
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Zeta Clark
- Sargeant
- Posts: 143
- Joined: 10 years ago
- Location: The Wizard's Library
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Oh boy! A chance to overshare!
Hmm... my Ground Zero was probably Superstories' "Wonder Woman vs. Poison Ivy", though now I'm old and seasoned enough to tell that it's an objectively terrible story, but it's still mighty arousing.
I've also got a soft spot for Wedgeyman's "Invisible Woman: Puppet", which is slightly more competently written, though that might just be because it doesn't really pretend to have a plot.
And I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before, but I read almost anything Dark One writes religiously. True, not all of them are winners, and the similarities in subject matter plus the sheer volume of his work tends to make them run together in my head, but there's something about his style that's just so captivating...
Hmm... my Ground Zero was probably Superstories' "Wonder Woman vs. Poison Ivy", though now I'm old and seasoned enough to tell that it's an objectively terrible story, but it's still mighty arousing.
I've also got a soft spot for Wedgeyman's "Invisible Woman: Puppet", which is slightly more competently written, though that might just be because it doesn't really pretend to have a plot.
And I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before, but I read almost anything Dark One writes religiously. True, not all of them are winners, and the similarities in subject matter plus the sheer volume of his work tends to make them run together in my head, but there's something about his style that's just so captivating...
I love Doctor Doms stuff, but I'm not sure you can call 'Sg Captured by the mob' a 'short story' 
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
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DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Zeta Clark wrote:http://www.superheroinecentral.com/~wiz ... s_2015.htm
I also love Dr. Dominator's "Supergirl Captured by the Mob" series. The capture itself was emotional and riveting.
Thanks, Zeta. Your support and that of Vladi and Scarlet Witch at the Wizard's Lair has meant the world to me over the years. May your site be the continuing bastion of superheroine fiction and art and role play for many years to come. However, I think I'd have to agree with Tallyho below about my story being "short."
Technically it's about two novel's worth at this point. Fortunately it will be concluding at last over the next month and then I will be writing short stories from here on out. Even some that will be suitable here for the non-dungeon section. 
Thou speaketh the truth, verily, you vile knave. And if your stories weren't so important in my lexicon of heroine peril adventures I'd have at you with my broadsword. But since they are, I'll lay it down and humbly toast to your skills, sir knight.tallyho wrote:I love Doctor Doms stuff, but I'm not sure you can call 'Sg Captured by the mob' a 'short story'
* * *
As for the primary writer who so deeply inspired me initially, that would be RW and his classic "Missions of Supergirl" series. It opened my eyes to the world of heroine peril and echoed the writing I had already begun but not yet published. I saw that my interests were shared by others and it set my on the path I still tread today.
Last edited by DrDominator9 8 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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girlofsteel
- Henchman
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- Location: Phantom Zone
I love reading these kind of posts - they're the reason I joined the forum. It's always good to discover new writers and like minded people. And it's why I'm also excited for this contest. Not sure if I'm going to make it by this year's deadline but I want to start contributing my ideas. I've been working on a story for a while now and look forward to sharing it in the near future. In my case I'm a Supergirl fan and there are three stories that have primarily influenced me:
North Sea Domination by Sgirl911 http://www.superheroineforum.com/viewtopic.php?t=19811
BioWeapon by Nemesis9 & Sharon Best http://www.infinitybridge.net/othervoices/nemesis1.htm
Supergirl vs. 681 by Munich http://www.superheroineforum.com/viewtopic.php?t=19737
I recommend their work to anyone with an interest in the Maid of Might or in heroine peril with good action.
One question regarding the story contest: If we contribute a story can we also post it here on the forum or can it only go up on the Wizard's Lair?
North Sea Domination by Sgirl911 http://www.superheroineforum.com/viewtopic.php?t=19811
BioWeapon by Nemesis9 & Sharon Best http://www.infinitybridge.net/othervoices/nemesis1.htm
Supergirl vs. 681 by Munich http://www.superheroineforum.com/viewtopic.php?t=19737
I recommend their work to anyone with an interest in the Maid of Might or in heroine peril with good action.
One question regarding the story contest: If we contribute a story can we also post it here on the forum or can it only go up on the Wizard's Lair?
Echoes of Destruction - https://bit.ly/36InC8N
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
Alert Station - https://bit.ly/3iQyHaf
Lost in the Swarm - https://bit.ly/3uMcgZg
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Zeta Clark
- Sargeant
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- Joined: 10 years ago
- Location: The Wizard's Library
- Contact:
We request that you use all submitted stories strictly for the contest. By offering a prize reward, The Wizard's Lair considers itself having acquired sole "hosting rights" for all entries submitted, even on stories not selected as the contest winner. That said, we believe that ownership of art should remain with the original artist. So if you wish to post your contest story elsewhere, I would encourage you to write a new story from the original instead. You could create a sequel for example, or maybe write the same story told through a different point of view or through the eyes of a different character. I'd be willing to assist you, if you wish.girlofsteel wrote:One question regarding the story contest: If we contribute a story can we also post it here on the forum or can it only go up on the Wizard's Lair?
I look forward to reading your stories. Even if you don't make this year's contest, you can always contribute a story for consideration into one of our many other spotlight galleries. Note that spotlight galleries are not like the short story contest. You can post those stories (or artwork) elsewhere. But please don't post EVERYWHERE. Hehe. Otherwise, our post for you loses any value as a spotlight for your work. =Dgirlofsteel wrote:And it's why I'm also excited for this contest. Not sure if I'm going to make it by this year's deadline but I want to start contributing my ideas. I've been working on a story for a while now and look forward to sharing it in the near future.
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nicholasng
- Neophyte Lvl 2
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fav being POWER FAILURE a bdsm story of POISON IVY VS POWER GIRL
by spectre who used t o run THE TOMB later known as DANGERZONE
he has a profile here going by name of FEMFAN1
i was 15 when i used to read it on 1998.good times then.i remember not a day passed without me revelling and jerking off to power slut plight
enjoy
******************************** STORY BEGINS AS FOLLOWS BELOW
Power Failure 1998
by Femfan1, Oct 14, 2014, 10:12:52 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Horror / Short Stories
*** WARNING: THIS IS A PURELY FICTIONAL STORY WHICH DEPICTS EXTREME, NON-CONSENSUAL VIOLENCE. IT INCLUDES DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE AND SEXUAL VIOLATION, AND IS AMBIGUOUS REGARDING WHETHER THE HEROINE SURVIVES HER PERIL. IF YOU ARE NOT AN ADULT, OR IF SUCH MATERIAL OFFENDS YOU, DO NOT READ THIS STORY!***
***Power Girl, Poison Ivy, and Black Canary are copyrighted by DC Comics. This story is written for the sole purpose of entertainment and is not written for profit and cannot be transmitted, reproduced or otherwise traded for profit.***
POWER FAILURE
by Spectre
Power Girl landed on a tree-covered hillside overlooking the Atlantic Ocean and gazed down at the waves rippling along the shoreline. Over the last few days, she had concluded that there were strange things going on in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The AP wire had reported several women missing from the town over the last week and just this morning she had read a small piece about body parts washing to shore along the Carolina coast. The latest article had concluded, "The as yet unidentified victim of a shark attack is believed to have worked as a waitress or cigarette girl in a local club. Pieces of dark blue velvet have been seen drifting in the waves off the coast and a local fisherman has recovered several pieces of what is believed to be a black fishnet stocking. Police have not yet ruled out foul play as the circumstances leading to the shark attack are still unknown." While the news reports did not indicate any connection between the suspected shark attack and the missing women, Power Girl had decided that it couldn't hurt for her to investigate and determine whether something sinister was happening in Myrtle Beach. Launching herself back into the air, she headed for police headquarters.
A short flight later, Power Girl strode through the door of the Myrtle Beach Police Department. Unsurprisingly, she received the full cooperation of the boys in blue. They had little information on the suspected shark attack because it had apparently occurred north of Myrtle Beach. Nevertheless, as part of their ongoing missing persons investigation they had been in contact with local police up the coast toward Wilmington, North Carolina, and they had been informed that the body parts appeared to be those of a male. However, the shredded clothes were clearly from garments that might be worn by a female and strands of hair on the clothing were long and blonde. They had, as yet, been unable to determine whether the strands of hair were a DNA match with any of their missing persons. Regarding the missing women in Myrtle Beach, Power Girl was informed that six women had been reported missing by employers or friends. Several of the missing girls worked in popular Myrtle Beach nightspots as beer tub girls or selling shooters. Preliminary interviews suggested that a few of them might have been acquainted with each other, but there were no close friendships and no other evident connections between the women. Power Girl thanked the detective in charge for his time and headed for the establishments where the women had been employed.
Her first stop was a place called the Beach Club. The manager looked like he was just out of college and all the waitresses in the place were dressed in fluorescent bikinis which accentuated their ample curves. Despite being surrounded every night by gorgeous beach babes, he was still clearly impressed by the sight of Power Girl. Shooing away his male wait staff, who were all trying to get autographs, he escorted the blonde bombshell to his office. "How can I help you?"
"I was hoping you could tell me a little about Michelle Davis."
"Well, I told the police everything I know."
"Yeah, actually I was wondering if you'd ever seen her wearing fishnet stockings or a velvet outfit? Blue?"
"No, not Michelle. She was strictly cut-off jeans and tank tops. I think all her money went toward her breast job. The doctor did nice work though. Those puppies made her one of the most popular beer tub girls in this joint."
Power Girl struggled to keep her composure despite the fact that she was clearly dealing with a sexist pig. "Is that a fact? Well, could she have been moonlighting on the side?"
"In a job wearing fishnet stockings and velvet? No, not Michelle. She could never pull it off like the blonde that was in here the other night."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, the other night, this blonde comes in, asking questions about Michelle, just like you are, except different questions of course. I told her what I told the police and she left."
"Can you describe this blonde?"
"Are you kidding? She was hot! She had blue, almost grey, eyes, and shoulder length blonde hair. She was wearing like a dark blue satin one-piece with a half-sleeve, midriff-cut blue velvet jacket, black fishnet stockings, and black leather ankle boots. Probably late-20's in age. Great set! The way her outfit was designed I could have watched her breathe for days."
"Do you talk this way in front of all women, or am I getting special treatment?! Someday you're going to have to learn discretion because the only thing stopping me from pounding you is my own conscience."
Power Girl left the Beach Club more worried than ever. She knew the outfit described by the manager as being the one worn by the Black Canary and the manager's description of the woman's physical characteristics also described the friend of Green Arrow. It was not hard to draw a line from the Black Canary asking questions about the disappearance of a woman in Myrtle Beach to fishnet and pieces of blue velvet fabric washing up on a beach less than a 1/2-hour's drive to the north.
With a greater sense of urgency, Power Girl began talking to friends and employers of the other women who had disappeared. A mutual friend of several of the women told Power Girl that they had all met sunbathing. Apparently, the women didn't like going to the public beaches because of all the pervs and gawkers. An old lady just north of North Myrtle Beach had allowed them to use her property, which had an isolated private beach without public access. Power Girl flew north, landing in the backyard of the property just in front of the steps down to the beach. She could see why the beach didn't have public access as rocky shoals and a reef formed natural barriers. Turning around, she admired the grounds. The lawn was well-manicured and full of beautiful flowering plants. To her left, a lovely white trestle was surrounded by creeping vines and a nearby fountain soothingly cascaded water into a small stream. Sitting on a bench near the trestle was an older woman, perhaps in her late 70's. "Hello, ma'am. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"
"Do I know you, dear?"
"No, but you've probably heard of me, I'm Power Girl and I'm investigating the disappearance of several women. I understand that you let some of them use your private beach to sunbathe?"
"You want to use my beach to sunbathe? Sure, go ahead. I let young ladies use my beach all the time. As beautiful as you are, I can understand why you wouldn't want to wear a bikini to one of the crowded public beaches south of here."
"No, ma'am. I don't want to use your beach to sunbathe. I'd just like to ask you some questions about the women who've used your beach. How much can you tell me about them? Did you get to know any of them very well?"
"I'm having a little trouble hearing you, dear. Would you mind talking into my left ear, Doc Pritchard says I'm going deaf in my right."
"Certainly." Power Girl approached the woman and, casually leaning against the left side of the bench, began to continue her questioning. The old woman didn't hear much better in her left ear and the conversation kept getting sidetracked by problems in communication. A frustrated Power Girl soon began to wonder if the old woman wasn't intentionally delaying answering questions. Leaning forward more closely, Power Girl found to her surprise that she had vastly overestimated the woman's age. She couldn't be more than 50, no 40 years old. Suddenly, Power Girl was shocked to feel herself being grabbed around her upper arms and lower legs and pulled backwards toward the trestle. Power Girl's eyes opened in wonder when the old woman stood up from the bench and casting her robe aside revealed herself to be a long-legged, twenty-something, redhead wearing some costume out of Peter Pan. "You may be the dumbest cow that ever lived, Power Girl."
Power Girl struggled against the vines that continued to pull her backward. More vines had now grabbed her at her right elbow and on her right leg in the area of her crotch. She felt something slither across her diaphragm area and looking down she saw another vine encircling her body just below her massive chest. Power Girl's perplexed gaze returned to the woman in green. "The name you're struggling to remember is Poison Ivy, 'dear.' You might say I'm branching out from battling the Bat family. It was a tiny step to the Black Canary, but I never would have dreamed of tackling you until I heard that you've developed a vulnerability to unprocessed material. How convenient for me! I happen to be able to do great things with the stuff that Mother Nature provides.
Power Girl had solid footing on the ground and was able to put up great resistance to the efforts of the vines to move her backward. Straining forward, she lashed out at Poison Ivy; barely missing, with a blow that would have knocked her attacker senseless if it had connected. "These vines may be able to slow me down, but they're not going to stop me from cleaning your clock!"
"Of course, they are." Poison Ivy was almost laughing. The extra power of each additional vine encircling Power Girl's body kept pulling the powerhouse back one step at a time. "I'm well out of your reach and I think you'll find that the combined strength of all the vines I have at my disposal will be more than enough to restrain your violent impulses."
Poison Ivy's words had barely escaped her lips, when Power Girl felt more vines grabbing hold of her body and inexorably drawing her backwards until at last her back came in contact with the trestle. Almost immediately, vines from the trestle began pulling her up off the ground and suspending her in the air. Bereft of any footing, Power Girl now had no support for her efforts to pull away from her leafy predicament. "You witch! I swear, I'm going to tear these vines in two, piece by piece, and when I'm done you're next!!!"
Power Girl grabbed one of the vines that had encircled her thigh and ripped it from her leg. Then she grabbed another, and another. Reaching for a vine that had snaked it's way across her chest, she felt her arm come up short. The vines around her arms began restraining her ability to grab the vines on her body. Calling up further reserves of energy, Power Girl pulled her hand back towards the vine around her chest and snatched at it just before her arms were again violently yanked away. To her chagrin, her clutching fingers had missed the vine and found, instead, the low-cut collar of her uniform top. Power Girl looked with frustration at the piece of shredded white fabric which she now held in her blue-gloved hand. Glancing down she could see that all her efforts had only resulted in embarrassing her. Her collar in tatters, the stretchy white fabric of her leotard top had pulled away from her chest leaving her breasts partially exposed.
A throaty laugh escaped from Poison Ivy's throat as she saw the mortified look on Power Girl's face. "What's the matter 'Blonde Blunder,' too modest to show me your tits? I find that a little hard to believe given your choice of costume. Besides, there's no reason to get embarrassed. From what I can see, they're quite impressive. Are they real? You'll forgive me for asking, but not one of those wenches I sold into white slavery was without breast implants and your tits are far superior to the ones they paid to have. Maybe you should've been a stripper. I'm sorry an 'exotic dancer.' All I know is you're not going to survive as a hero. In fact, this is going to be your last day on the job!"
Power Girl's irritation level was at a peak. This red-haired Poison what's her name's attitude was getting on the superheroine's last nerve. Even worse, Power Girl had been totally ineffectual starting with how easily she fell into the woman's trap and culminating in the uniform tearing debacle. "When I get out of this, and I will, it's going to feel so good to stick my boot so far up your scrawny little ass that you'll taste shoe leather."
"You're a riot, Power Girl. Haven't you figured it out yet? Hasn't it gotten into that thick skull of yours that you're not going to 'get out of this?' When you were fresh and rested, you couldn't escape my vines. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be pleading for mercy."
"Fat chance, Stick Woman." Even as the words hissed across her lips, Power Girl admitted to herself that she wasn't as fresh now as when she had first been encircled by the vines and without a foothold escape would be even more difficult. However, she remained confident that she would prevail in the end.
"Stick Woman? Oooh, that hurts. You know, I don't think we've gotten off on the right foot. I had planned to kill you and be done with it, but let's have a little fun. It's clear to me that you have some anger management issues that really should be addressed before I send you off into the great hereafter. You also have a poor self-image which you overcompensate for with arrogance. I, on the other hand, will derive sadistic pleasure out of 'helping' you. Particularly, since I'm sure what I have in mind is going to leave you begging to die."
"Screw you, you psycho!"
"Good guess! Very close to being correct. You're just a little off!"
Power Girl clenched her teeth as Poison Ivy erupted in maniacal laughter. If Poison Ivy was going to sexually assault her, she'd have to come closer and once she was well within range Power Girl could easily unleash a blow that would knock the woman unconscious. It was all Power Girl could do to keep the thought from crossing her face and tipping Poison Ivy to her plan. For the last minute or so she had relaxed as much as possible, allowing Poison Ivy's vines to support the bulk of her weight and trying to build up her energy reserves. Now, as she watched the red-haired woman move closer, Power Girl tried to look as defeated as possible. Almost in range, the red-haired woman stopped and a smile played across her lips. Power Girl felt more vines grab her arms and legs and a vine lightly encircled her neck. To the heroine's shock, Poison Ivy started laughing again and took a step backward as a vine snaked it's way under Power Girl's costume near the bombshell's crotch. Two more vines dove under her uniform top at her cleavage to horseshoe around each breast. In despair, Power Girl realized that Poison Ivy had no intention of coming anywhere near her and that the molestation was to be accomplished by the vines themselves.
Immediately, Power Girl renewed her struggle to free herself from the vines. The desperation of her situation soon became clear to the blonde powerhouse. Powerful kicks and chopping arm movements looked like an obscene slow motion dance as the grip of the vines on her arms and legs tightened and her movements were restricted. Every muscle in her body showed the strain of her exertion, but she appeared to be awkwardly running in place, suspended above the ground. Worse, the vines restraining her arms and legs had closed around her body so tightly in order to hold back her powerful efforts that the circulation of blood to her lower extremities had been cut off. Her hands and feet began to lose feeling as needed oxygen in her blood no longer provided energy to her muscles.
Adding to her predicament, the vines at her crotch and around her breasts began to slowly maneuver over and into highly sensitive areas. The leafy strand between her legs was oddly pleasurable as its' touch set off involuntary reactions in Power Girl's body. The vines around her breasts, massaging, squeezing, and pinching her tits also resulted in sensations at odds with the pain and weariness she was otherwise experiencing. The combination of pleasure and pain wracked Power Girl's body which shook from the overwhelming and uncontrollable feelings that she was experiencing. More desperate than ever, Power Girl somehow managed to increase her efforts to rip herself free from the vines. Sweat rolled down her body, drenching her white costume so thoroughly that it became almost transparent with every tensed muscle on her body clearly defined.
Poison Ivy could only marvel at the intensity of the effort Power Girl was making and the awesome power of the heroine's body which was now on full display. Power Girl's rock hard body, her skin glistening in the late afternoon sunlight, revealed every cut and striation of every muscle. Yet, Poison Ivy could see that despite the blonde powerhouse's efforts, she was no closer to escaping Poison Ivy's trap. Poison Ivy giggled with the realization that Power Girl had given it her best shot and Poison Ivy had won. With each passing moment, Power Girl's ability to escape diminished. Now the Green Goddess decided it was time to really get nasty.
Power Girl continued to struggle mightily, but she began to sense that she no longer had the power to escape from Poison Ivy's trap. Doubt crept into her mind and fleetingly she wondered if she was going to die. She tried to redouble her efforts, but she felt the vine around her neck begin to close around her throat cutting off her windpipe. At the same time, the vines manipulating her sexually sensitive areas began to increase the intensity of their activities. A moan of pleasure was stifled in Power Girl's throat as her mouth opened and her eyes widened in erotic bliss. Seconds passed before the vine around her throat relaxed it's grip and a tired groan passed from Power Girl's lips. The vine between her legs began moving around again, first slowly and then more quickly, brushing up against Power Girl's pleasure center until the powerhouse was on the verge of orgasm. Again, the vine around her throat constricted and the sound of her passion could not be heard even as her head tilted back and her eyes rolled skyward. After a few more seconds the vine around her throat again relaxed and a high-pitched gasp exited Power Girl's mouth.
Poison Ivy's vines went to work a third time. Tugging against Power Girl's nipples, the vines manipulated the blonde bombshell's breasts in and out, and the vine down below continued to stimulate the powerhouse in a way she had never experienced. She felt the orgasm coming and her moans of pleasure increased in length and volume as her hips thrust forward and her body shook. Just before her orgasm was complete, the vine around her throat tightened again and her final shriek of pleasure was cut off in mid-note. The effect was to prolong the length of her orgasm as the vines continued to furiously manipulate her sexually sensitive areas. Power Girl felt that she had to climax or she would explode. Her muscles were tensed leaving her motionless as a statue with her body arched backward and her head tilted back on her shoulders. Her eyes were open wide but her pupils had rolled back into her head, and her red lips formed a huge circle which silently screamed in ecstasy. For an eternity, she was locked in this pose before the vine around her neck relaxed it's grip for a final time and her groan of release was followed by the feeling of moisture running down her inner thighs.
Gasping for air, Power Girl hung limply suspended from the trellis. Her exposed breasts swayed back and forth across her chest, jiggling with each labored breath. Perspiration ran down her face, dripping from her lips. Exhausted, she could barely raise her head or open her eyelids to gaze at Poison Ivy standing a few feet away. In a barely audible whisper she said, "No more."
"What?"
"No more."
"Ask nicely."
"Please."
"Please, what?"
"Please, no more."
"So you're ready to die?"
Power Girl felt as though she could cry. Her voice cracked. "No."
"Well, that's the way it works. After the torture, I kill you. Are you sure you've had enough torture?"
Power Girl weakly nodded affirmatively.
"Then it's time to die. Do you want me to end this or not?"
The vine around Power Girl's throat pressed up against the bottom of Power Girl's chin lifting her jaw off her chest. Tears streamed down the blonde powerhouse's face. Shaking her head back and forth she said, "I don't want to die!"
"Okay, we'll continue with the torture." Poison Ivy's vines once again began to caress Power Girl's breasts and rub against her crotch. Power Girl gasped, "No, please, no!"
"So you want me to end this?"
"Yes!"
"That's what I wanted to hear. You got it babe!"
Power Girl's eyes widened as the vine around her neck once again constricted around her throat cutting off her wind and she realized that she had just inadvertently asked Poison Ivy to kill her. She wanted to scream that she had meant that she wanted Poison Ivy to end the torture, but she knew Poison Ivy's phrasing had been deliberately tricky and that, in any event, Poison Ivy was planning to kill her all along. Besides, the vine throttling her prevented any sound from passing between her lips, and, as if to add insult to injury, another vine slithered around her open mouth like a leafy gag.
As every vine encircling her body tightened around her, cutting off her circulation, a depleted Power Girl valiantly struggled for life. Fingers which had long ago lost all feeling clutched for the vine at her throat to relieve the unyielding pressure on her windpipe. Time and time again her hands were pulled away at the last second. Similarly, her legs flailed wildly seeking some kind of foothold on the trellis at her back only to be pulled away whenever her boot managed to locate the wooden post. Her chest was heaving as her lungs burned from the need for air and her torn top was straining at the seams from the shaking of her breasts which were augmented by the adrenaline pumping through her chest muscles.
"Oh, come on Power Girl, give in! You're only making it harder on yourself. Case in point. Black Canary. She came here just like you did, making a pest of herself, asking questions. She didn't catch on until I thoughtfully gave her a flower which released a noxious gas when she sought to inhale its' aroma. Knocked her out cold. As you may have figured out, she woke up on a small fishing vessel a few miles out to sea just north of here. Her feet had already been chained together, an anchor had been chained to her neck, and her mouth had been taped shut. Some of the white slavers in my employ were even ready to sexually violate her while she was unconscious. In fact, they'd come close to ripping her costume top almost in half before I stopped them. I just won't abide sexual violence against women. Unless, of course, it's on my orders. Anyway, I made an example of one of them by using his body to chum the water for sharks. Then just before she regained consciousness, I had my boys lift her up by her feet and dangle her over the water while I removed the tape and covered her mouth and nose with my hand. When her eyes fluttered open, I told her she had a choice to make. I let her know that in a few seconds she would be head over heels in shark infested waters. She could either elect to draw water into her lungs and die relatively painlessly without ever feeling the sharks' teeth shredding her skin and bones, or she could try to hold her breath and escape her watery grave at which point she would feel great pain and would still die.
Of course, by the time I explained this, she was almost spasming from the need for oxygen. She'd have just enough time when we released the anchor and I removed my hand for one intake of breath before she sank under the waves. You can understand wanting air can't you, Power Girl?" Power Girl's eyes were so wide they seemed to bulge out of their sockets and her mouth strained to open further than possible in a quest for breath. Her body was taut with concentrated effort as her arms strained against the vines and her fingers clutched toward her throat. The strain on her body was evident. Her buttocks were tight and her legs rock hard as they extended straight down to the ground as if to gain needed footing. Her entire body was quivering from the stress she was under. "I see you can."
"Anyway, the anchor was dropped, my hand was removed, she took a breath, and under she went. Straight down. Almost to the bottom. About 20 feet below the surface, where waiting for her were a lot of hungry sharks. She should've taken the easy way out. Instead we could see her struggling to hold her breath, trying to pull herself up enough to undo the chain around her feet when she had an anchor tied like an albatross to her neck. She just wasn't strong enough, or she needed longer arms. I can only imagine the burning sensation in her chest as her lungs cried for air, and I don't even want to think about the pain of the first bite. I could see the first one, you know. She was losing a little bit of air out of her mouth here and there and then this shark comes in from behind and takes a huge hunk out of the side of her abdomen. You'd be surprised at how much air is ordinarily trapped inside the body. I never really thought about it but when the shark's teeth punctured her skin hundreds of air bubbles headed for the surface. Then there was blood in the water and after a few more nibbles and scrapes here and there by a variety of nature's best killing machines...well, I couldn't see anything more from the amount of blood clouding the water but I'm pretty sure it was a feeding frenzy. So there you have it, a cautionary tale about the pain that comes from resisting the inevitable. Make it easy on yourself, Power Girl. Just relax and stop resisting and my vines will make the ending short and sweet.
Her face drained of all color, Power Girl's struggles had slowed. The vines holding her arms and legs no longer offered her resistance but her exhausted body could not take advantage as her fingers slowly fumbled against the vines around her neck which continued to restrict her air flow. As her fingers failed to gain her relief, her legs slowly began kicking uncontrollably. First her right, then her left leg, kicked forward, back, and side to side, randomly. Her tits, which had been quivering from strain, were now shaking uncontrollably and her eyes began to roll back in her head. Power Girl's vision was going black. When her eyes first began to lose focus she had shaken her head and concentrated on the image of Poison Ivy. She was vaguely aware that Poison Ivy was describing the details of Black Canary's death. When her eyes began to lose focus again, she was barely aware it was happening as her gaze centered on a piece of the sky at dusk and blackness ever encroached upon the center of her vision. Her body began to spasm. Her legs twitched in small kicks. Her arms, which had fallen loosely by her side, jerked violently away from her body. Her head, and even her tits, shook.
Poison Ivy watched the blonde powerhouse in front of her. The violent strenuous movements of only moments ago had seemingly been replaced by spasmodic twitching. She knew that a mental command to her vines now would be accompanied almost simultaneously by a loud crack as Power Girl would no longer be able to keep her neck from breaking. The woman's muscles, which were tense as coiled springs, would relax, and she would slump, dangling loosely from the side of the trestle. Only the vines around her body would offer any support for her weight. The blonde powerhouse's tits, now straining massively, would jiggle loosely, like mounds of jello sloshing to and fro across her chest. Power Girl's end would be humiliatingly complete and Poison Ivy would forever be remembered in the Rogue's Gallery for her accomplishment.
Power Girl's vision was almost black. Horrified, she realized that if she couldn't break free in the next few seconds she was going to die. Through clouded vision she could see Poison Ivy pointing at her, as if the woman's index fingers were pistols, and laughing before blowing away imaginary smoke and walking away across the yard. Expending all that remained of her power and energy, the blonde bombshell ripped her body away from the vines, her relieved ears clearly hearing them snap as she pulled away and sank into euphoric unconsciousness.
The End?
by spectre who used t o run THE TOMB later known as DANGERZONE
he has a profile here going by name of FEMFAN1
i was 15 when i used to read it on 1998.good times then.i remember not a day passed without me revelling and jerking off to power slut plight
enjoy
******************************** STORY BEGINS AS FOLLOWS BELOW
Power Failure 1998
by Femfan1, Oct 14, 2014, 10:12:52 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Horror / Short Stories
*** WARNING: THIS IS A PURELY FICTIONAL STORY WHICH DEPICTS EXTREME, NON-CONSENSUAL VIOLENCE. IT INCLUDES DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE AND SEXUAL VIOLATION, AND IS AMBIGUOUS REGARDING WHETHER THE HEROINE SURVIVES HER PERIL. IF YOU ARE NOT AN ADULT, OR IF SUCH MATERIAL OFFENDS YOU, DO NOT READ THIS STORY!***
***Power Girl, Poison Ivy, and Black Canary are copyrighted by DC Comics. This story is written for the sole purpose of entertainment and is not written for profit and cannot be transmitted, reproduced or otherwise traded for profit.***
POWER FAILURE
by Spectre
Power Girl landed on a tree-covered hillside overlooking the Atlantic Ocean and gazed down at the waves rippling along the shoreline. Over the last few days, she had concluded that there were strange things going on in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The AP wire had reported several women missing from the town over the last week and just this morning she had read a small piece about body parts washing to shore along the Carolina coast. The latest article had concluded, "The as yet unidentified victim of a shark attack is believed to have worked as a waitress or cigarette girl in a local club. Pieces of dark blue velvet have been seen drifting in the waves off the coast and a local fisherman has recovered several pieces of what is believed to be a black fishnet stocking. Police have not yet ruled out foul play as the circumstances leading to the shark attack are still unknown." While the news reports did not indicate any connection between the suspected shark attack and the missing women, Power Girl had decided that it couldn't hurt for her to investigate and determine whether something sinister was happening in Myrtle Beach. Launching herself back into the air, she headed for police headquarters.
A short flight later, Power Girl strode through the door of the Myrtle Beach Police Department. Unsurprisingly, she received the full cooperation of the boys in blue. They had little information on the suspected shark attack because it had apparently occurred north of Myrtle Beach. Nevertheless, as part of their ongoing missing persons investigation they had been in contact with local police up the coast toward Wilmington, North Carolina, and they had been informed that the body parts appeared to be those of a male. However, the shredded clothes were clearly from garments that might be worn by a female and strands of hair on the clothing were long and blonde. They had, as yet, been unable to determine whether the strands of hair were a DNA match with any of their missing persons. Regarding the missing women in Myrtle Beach, Power Girl was informed that six women had been reported missing by employers or friends. Several of the missing girls worked in popular Myrtle Beach nightspots as beer tub girls or selling shooters. Preliminary interviews suggested that a few of them might have been acquainted with each other, but there were no close friendships and no other evident connections between the women. Power Girl thanked the detective in charge for his time and headed for the establishments where the women had been employed.
Her first stop was a place called the Beach Club. The manager looked like he was just out of college and all the waitresses in the place were dressed in fluorescent bikinis which accentuated their ample curves. Despite being surrounded every night by gorgeous beach babes, he was still clearly impressed by the sight of Power Girl. Shooing away his male wait staff, who were all trying to get autographs, he escorted the blonde bombshell to his office. "How can I help you?"
"I was hoping you could tell me a little about Michelle Davis."
"Well, I told the police everything I know."
"Yeah, actually I was wondering if you'd ever seen her wearing fishnet stockings or a velvet outfit? Blue?"
"No, not Michelle. She was strictly cut-off jeans and tank tops. I think all her money went toward her breast job. The doctor did nice work though. Those puppies made her one of the most popular beer tub girls in this joint."
Power Girl struggled to keep her composure despite the fact that she was clearly dealing with a sexist pig. "Is that a fact? Well, could she have been moonlighting on the side?"
"In a job wearing fishnet stockings and velvet? No, not Michelle. She could never pull it off like the blonde that was in here the other night."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, the other night, this blonde comes in, asking questions about Michelle, just like you are, except different questions of course. I told her what I told the police and she left."
"Can you describe this blonde?"
"Are you kidding? She was hot! She had blue, almost grey, eyes, and shoulder length blonde hair. She was wearing like a dark blue satin one-piece with a half-sleeve, midriff-cut blue velvet jacket, black fishnet stockings, and black leather ankle boots. Probably late-20's in age. Great set! The way her outfit was designed I could have watched her breathe for days."
"Do you talk this way in front of all women, or am I getting special treatment?! Someday you're going to have to learn discretion because the only thing stopping me from pounding you is my own conscience."
Power Girl left the Beach Club more worried than ever. She knew the outfit described by the manager as being the one worn by the Black Canary and the manager's description of the woman's physical characteristics also described the friend of Green Arrow. It was not hard to draw a line from the Black Canary asking questions about the disappearance of a woman in Myrtle Beach to fishnet and pieces of blue velvet fabric washing up on a beach less than a 1/2-hour's drive to the north.
With a greater sense of urgency, Power Girl began talking to friends and employers of the other women who had disappeared. A mutual friend of several of the women told Power Girl that they had all met sunbathing. Apparently, the women didn't like going to the public beaches because of all the pervs and gawkers. An old lady just north of North Myrtle Beach had allowed them to use her property, which had an isolated private beach without public access. Power Girl flew north, landing in the backyard of the property just in front of the steps down to the beach. She could see why the beach didn't have public access as rocky shoals and a reef formed natural barriers. Turning around, she admired the grounds. The lawn was well-manicured and full of beautiful flowering plants. To her left, a lovely white trestle was surrounded by creeping vines and a nearby fountain soothingly cascaded water into a small stream. Sitting on a bench near the trestle was an older woman, perhaps in her late 70's. "Hello, ma'am. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"
"Do I know you, dear?"
"No, but you've probably heard of me, I'm Power Girl and I'm investigating the disappearance of several women. I understand that you let some of them use your private beach to sunbathe?"
"You want to use my beach to sunbathe? Sure, go ahead. I let young ladies use my beach all the time. As beautiful as you are, I can understand why you wouldn't want to wear a bikini to one of the crowded public beaches south of here."
"No, ma'am. I don't want to use your beach to sunbathe. I'd just like to ask you some questions about the women who've used your beach. How much can you tell me about them? Did you get to know any of them very well?"
"I'm having a little trouble hearing you, dear. Would you mind talking into my left ear, Doc Pritchard says I'm going deaf in my right."
"Certainly." Power Girl approached the woman and, casually leaning against the left side of the bench, began to continue her questioning. The old woman didn't hear much better in her left ear and the conversation kept getting sidetracked by problems in communication. A frustrated Power Girl soon began to wonder if the old woman wasn't intentionally delaying answering questions. Leaning forward more closely, Power Girl found to her surprise that she had vastly overestimated the woman's age. She couldn't be more than 50, no 40 years old. Suddenly, Power Girl was shocked to feel herself being grabbed around her upper arms and lower legs and pulled backwards toward the trestle. Power Girl's eyes opened in wonder when the old woman stood up from the bench and casting her robe aside revealed herself to be a long-legged, twenty-something, redhead wearing some costume out of Peter Pan. "You may be the dumbest cow that ever lived, Power Girl."
Power Girl struggled against the vines that continued to pull her backward. More vines had now grabbed her at her right elbow and on her right leg in the area of her crotch. She felt something slither across her diaphragm area and looking down she saw another vine encircling her body just below her massive chest. Power Girl's perplexed gaze returned to the woman in green. "The name you're struggling to remember is Poison Ivy, 'dear.' You might say I'm branching out from battling the Bat family. It was a tiny step to the Black Canary, but I never would have dreamed of tackling you until I heard that you've developed a vulnerability to unprocessed material. How convenient for me! I happen to be able to do great things with the stuff that Mother Nature provides.
Power Girl had solid footing on the ground and was able to put up great resistance to the efforts of the vines to move her backward. Straining forward, she lashed out at Poison Ivy; barely missing, with a blow that would have knocked her attacker senseless if it had connected. "These vines may be able to slow me down, but they're not going to stop me from cleaning your clock!"
"Of course, they are." Poison Ivy was almost laughing. The extra power of each additional vine encircling Power Girl's body kept pulling the powerhouse back one step at a time. "I'm well out of your reach and I think you'll find that the combined strength of all the vines I have at my disposal will be more than enough to restrain your violent impulses."
Poison Ivy's words had barely escaped her lips, when Power Girl felt more vines grabbing hold of her body and inexorably drawing her backwards until at last her back came in contact with the trestle. Almost immediately, vines from the trestle began pulling her up off the ground and suspending her in the air. Bereft of any footing, Power Girl now had no support for her efforts to pull away from her leafy predicament. "You witch! I swear, I'm going to tear these vines in two, piece by piece, and when I'm done you're next!!!"
Power Girl grabbed one of the vines that had encircled her thigh and ripped it from her leg. Then she grabbed another, and another. Reaching for a vine that had snaked it's way across her chest, she felt her arm come up short. The vines around her arms began restraining her ability to grab the vines on her body. Calling up further reserves of energy, Power Girl pulled her hand back towards the vine around her chest and snatched at it just before her arms were again violently yanked away. To her chagrin, her clutching fingers had missed the vine and found, instead, the low-cut collar of her uniform top. Power Girl looked with frustration at the piece of shredded white fabric which she now held in her blue-gloved hand. Glancing down she could see that all her efforts had only resulted in embarrassing her. Her collar in tatters, the stretchy white fabric of her leotard top had pulled away from her chest leaving her breasts partially exposed.
A throaty laugh escaped from Poison Ivy's throat as she saw the mortified look on Power Girl's face. "What's the matter 'Blonde Blunder,' too modest to show me your tits? I find that a little hard to believe given your choice of costume. Besides, there's no reason to get embarrassed. From what I can see, they're quite impressive. Are they real? You'll forgive me for asking, but not one of those wenches I sold into white slavery was without breast implants and your tits are far superior to the ones they paid to have. Maybe you should've been a stripper. I'm sorry an 'exotic dancer.' All I know is you're not going to survive as a hero. In fact, this is going to be your last day on the job!"
Power Girl's irritation level was at a peak. This red-haired Poison what's her name's attitude was getting on the superheroine's last nerve. Even worse, Power Girl had been totally ineffectual starting with how easily she fell into the woman's trap and culminating in the uniform tearing debacle. "When I get out of this, and I will, it's going to feel so good to stick my boot so far up your scrawny little ass that you'll taste shoe leather."
"You're a riot, Power Girl. Haven't you figured it out yet? Hasn't it gotten into that thick skull of yours that you're not going to 'get out of this?' When you were fresh and rested, you couldn't escape my vines. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be pleading for mercy."
"Fat chance, Stick Woman." Even as the words hissed across her lips, Power Girl admitted to herself that she wasn't as fresh now as when she had first been encircled by the vines and without a foothold escape would be even more difficult. However, she remained confident that she would prevail in the end.
"Stick Woman? Oooh, that hurts. You know, I don't think we've gotten off on the right foot. I had planned to kill you and be done with it, but let's have a little fun. It's clear to me that you have some anger management issues that really should be addressed before I send you off into the great hereafter. You also have a poor self-image which you overcompensate for with arrogance. I, on the other hand, will derive sadistic pleasure out of 'helping' you. Particularly, since I'm sure what I have in mind is going to leave you begging to die."
"Screw you, you psycho!"
"Good guess! Very close to being correct. You're just a little off!"
Power Girl clenched her teeth as Poison Ivy erupted in maniacal laughter. If Poison Ivy was going to sexually assault her, she'd have to come closer and once she was well within range Power Girl could easily unleash a blow that would knock the woman unconscious. It was all Power Girl could do to keep the thought from crossing her face and tipping Poison Ivy to her plan. For the last minute or so she had relaxed as much as possible, allowing Poison Ivy's vines to support the bulk of her weight and trying to build up her energy reserves. Now, as she watched the red-haired woman move closer, Power Girl tried to look as defeated as possible. Almost in range, the red-haired woman stopped and a smile played across her lips. Power Girl felt more vines grab her arms and legs and a vine lightly encircled her neck. To the heroine's shock, Poison Ivy started laughing again and took a step backward as a vine snaked it's way under Power Girl's costume near the bombshell's crotch. Two more vines dove under her uniform top at her cleavage to horseshoe around each breast. In despair, Power Girl realized that Poison Ivy had no intention of coming anywhere near her and that the molestation was to be accomplished by the vines themselves.
Immediately, Power Girl renewed her struggle to free herself from the vines. The desperation of her situation soon became clear to the blonde powerhouse. Powerful kicks and chopping arm movements looked like an obscene slow motion dance as the grip of the vines on her arms and legs tightened and her movements were restricted. Every muscle in her body showed the strain of her exertion, but she appeared to be awkwardly running in place, suspended above the ground. Worse, the vines restraining her arms and legs had closed around her body so tightly in order to hold back her powerful efforts that the circulation of blood to her lower extremities had been cut off. Her hands and feet began to lose feeling as needed oxygen in her blood no longer provided energy to her muscles.
Adding to her predicament, the vines at her crotch and around her breasts began to slowly maneuver over and into highly sensitive areas. The leafy strand between her legs was oddly pleasurable as its' touch set off involuntary reactions in Power Girl's body. The vines around her breasts, massaging, squeezing, and pinching her tits also resulted in sensations at odds with the pain and weariness she was otherwise experiencing. The combination of pleasure and pain wracked Power Girl's body which shook from the overwhelming and uncontrollable feelings that she was experiencing. More desperate than ever, Power Girl somehow managed to increase her efforts to rip herself free from the vines. Sweat rolled down her body, drenching her white costume so thoroughly that it became almost transparent with every tensed muscle on her body clearly defined.
Poison Ivy could only marvel at the intensity of the effort Power Girl was making and the awesome power of the heroine's body which was now on full display. Power Girl's rock hard body, her skin glistening in the late afternoon sunlight, revealed every cut and striation of every muscle. Yet, Poison Ivy could see that despite the blonde powerhouse's efforts, she was no closer to escaping Poison Ivy's trap. Poison Ivy giggled with the realization that Power Girl had given it her best shot and Poison Ivy had won. With each passing moment, Power Girl's ability to escape diminished. Now the Green Goddess decided it was time to really get nasty.
Power Girl continued to struggle mightily, but she began to sense that she no longer had the power to escape from Poison Ivy's trap. Doubt crept into her mind and fleetingly she wondered if she was going to die. She tried to redouble her efforts, but she felt the vine around her neck begin to close around her throat cutting off her windpipe. At the same time, the vines manipulating her sexually sensitive areas began to increase the intensity of their activities. A moan of pleasure was stifled in Power Girl's throat as her mouth opened and her eyes widened in erotic bliss. Seconds passed before the vine around her throat relaxed it's grip and a tired groan passed from Power Girl's lips. The vine between her legs began moving around again, first slowly and then more quickly, brushing up against Power Girl's pleasure center until the powerhouse was on the verge of orgasm. Again, the vine around her throat constricted and the sound of her passion could not be heard even as her head tilted back and her eyes rolled skyward. After a few more seconds the vine around her throat again relaxed and a high-pitched gasp exited Power Girl's mouth.
Poison Ivy's vines went to work a third time. Tugging against Power Girl's nipples, the vines manipulated the blonde bombshell's breasts in and out, and the vine down below continued to stimulate the powerhouse in a way she had never experienced. She felt the orgasm coming and her moans of pleasure increased in length and volume as her hips thrust forward and her body shook. Just before her orgasm was complete, the vine around her throat tightened again and her final shriek of pleasure was cut off in mid-note. The effect was to prolong the length of her orgasm as the vines continued to furiously manipulate her sexually sensitive areas. Power Girl felt that she had to climax or she would explode. Her muscles were tensed leaving her motionless as a statue with her body arched backward and her head tilted back on her shoulders. Her eyes were open wide but her pupils had rolled back into her head, and her red lips formed a huge circle which silently screamed in ecstasy. For an eternity, she was locked in this pose before the vine around her neck relaxed it's grip for a final time and her groan of release was followed by the feeling of moisture running down her inner thighs.
Gasping for air, Power Girl hung limply suspended from the trellis. Her exposed breasts swayed back and forth across her chest, jiggling with each labored breath. Perspiration ran down her face, dripping from her lips. Exhausted, she could barely raise her head or open her eyelids to gaze at Poison Ivy standing a few feet away. In a barely audible whisper she said, "No more."
"What?"
"No more."
"Ask nicely."
"Please."
"Please, what?"
"Please, no more."
"So you're ready to die?"
Power Girl felt as though she could cry. Her voice cracked. "No."
"Well, that's the way it works. After the torture, I kill you. Are you sure you've had enough torture?"
Power Girl weakly nodded affirmatively.
"Then it's time to die. Do you want me to end this or not?"
The vine around Power Girl's throat pressed up against the bottom of Power Girl's chin lifting her jaw off her chest. Tears streamed down the blonde powerhouse's face. Shaking her head back and forth she said, "I don't want to die!"
"Okay, we'll continue with the torture." Poison Ivy's vines once again began to caress Power Girl's breasts and rub against her crotch. Power Girl gasped, "No, please, no!"
"So you want me to end this?"
"Yes!"
"That's what I wanted to hear. You got it babe!"
Power Girl's eyes widened as the vine around her neck once again constricted around her throat cutting off her wind and she realized that she had just inadvertently asked Poison Ivy to kill her. She wanted to scream that she had meant that she wanted Poison Ivy to end the torture, but she knew Poison Ivy's phrasing had been deliberately tricky and that, in any event, Poison Ivy was planning to kill her all along. Besides, the vine throttling her prevented any sound from passing between her lips, and, as if to add insult to injury, another vine slithered around her open mouth like a leafy gag.
As every vine encircling her body tightened around her, cutting off her circulation, a depleted Power Girl valiantly struggled for life. Fingers which had long ago lost all feeling clutched for the vine at her throat to relieve the unyielding pressure on her windpipe. Time and time again her hands were pulled away at the last second. Similarly, her legs flailed wildly seeking some kind of foothold on the trellis at her back only to be pulled away whenever her boot managed to locate the wooden post. Her chest was heaving as her lungs burned from the need for air and her torn top was straining at the seams from the shaking of her breasts which were augmented by the adrenaline pumping through her chest muscles.
"Oh, come on Power Girl, give in! You're only making it harder on yourself. Case in point. Black Canary. She came here just like you did, making a pest of herself, asking questions. She didn't catch on until I thoughtfully gave her a flower which released a noxious gas when she sought to inhale its' aroma. Knocked her out cold. As you may have figured out, she woke up on a small fishing vessel a few miles out to sea just north of here. Her feet had already been chained together, an anchor had been chained to her neck, and her mouth had been taped shut. Some of the white slavers in my employ were even ready to sexually violate her while she was unconscious. In fact, they'd come close to ripping her costume top almost in half before I stopped them. I just won't abide sexual violence against women. Unless, of course, it's on my orders. Anyway, I made an example of one of them by using his body to chum the water for sharks. Then just before she regained consciousness, I had my boys lift her up by her feet and dangle her over the water while I removed the tape and covered her mouth and nose with my hand. When her eyes fluttered open, I told her she had a choice to make. I let her know that in a few seconds she would be head over heels in shark infested waters. She could either elect to draw water into her lungs and die relatively painlessly without ever feeling the sharks' teeth shredding her skin and bones, or she could try to hold her breath and escape her watery grave at which point she would feel great pain and would still die.
Of course, by the time I explained this, she was almost spasming from the need for oxygen. She'd have just enough time when we released the anchor and I removed my hand for one intake of breath before she sank under the waves. You can understand wanting air can't you, Power Girl?" Power Girl's eyes were so wide they seemed to bulge out of their sockets and her mouth strained to open further than possible in a quest for breath. Her body was taut with concentrated effort as her arms strained against the vines and her fingers clutched toward her throat. The strain on her body was evident. Her buttocks were tight and her legs rock hard as they extended straight down to the ground as if to gain needed footing. Her entire body was quivering from the stress she was under. "I see you can."
"Anyway, the anchor was dropped, my hand was removed, she took a breath, and under she went. Straight down. Almost to the bottom. About 20 feet below the surface, where waiting for her were a lot of hungry sharks. She should've taken the easy way out. Instead we could see her struggling to hold her breath, trying to pull herself up enough to undo the chain around her feet when she had an anchor tied like an albatross to her neck. She just wasn't strong enough, or she needed longer arms. I can only imagine the burning sensation in her chest as her lungs cried for air, and I don't even want to think about the pain of the first bite. I could see the first one, you know. She was losing a little bit of air out of her mouth here and there and then this shark comes in from behind and takes a huge hunk out of the side of her abdomen. You'd be surprised at how much air is ordinarily trapped inside the body. I never really thought about it but when the shark's teeth punctured her skin hundreds of air bubbles headed for the surface. Then there was blood in the water and after a few more nibbles and scrapes here and there by a variety of nature's best killing machines...well, I couldn't see anything more from the amount of blood clouding the water but I'm pretty sure it was a feeding frenzy. So there you have it, a cautionary tale about the pain that comes from resisting the inevitable. Make it easy on yourself, Power Girl. Just relax and stop resisting and my vines will make the ending short and sweet.
Her face drained of all color, Power Girl's struggles had slowed. The vines holding her arms and legs no longer offered her resistance but her exhausted body could not take advantage as her fingers slowly fumbled against the vines around her neck which continued to restrict her air flow. As her fingers failed to gain her relief, her legs slowly began kicking uncontrollably. First her right, then her left leg, kicked forward, back, and side to side, randomly. Her tits, which had been quivering from strain, were now shaking uncontrollably and her eyes began to roll back in her head. Power Girl's vision was going black. When her eyes first began to lose focus she had shaken her head and concentrated on the image of Poison Ivy. She was vaguely aware that Poison Ivy was describing the details of Black Canary's death. When her eyes began to lose focus again, she was barely aware it was happening as her gaze centered on a piece of the sky at dusk and blackness ever encroached upon the center of her vision. Her body began to spasm. Her legs twitched in small kicks. Her arms, which had fallen loosely by her side, jerked violently away from her body. Her head, and even her tits, shook.
Poison Ivy watched the blonde powerhouse in front of her. The violent strenuous movements of only moments ago had seemingly been replaced by spasmodic twitching. She knew that a mental command to her vines now would be accompanied almost simultaneously by a loud crack as Power Girl would no longer be able to keep her neck from breaking. The woman's muscles, which were tense as coiled springs, would relax, and she would slump, dangling loosely from the side of the trestle. Only the vines around her body would offer any support for her weight. The blonde powerhouse's tits, now straining massively, would jiggle loosely, like mounds of jello sloshing to and fro across her chest. Power Girl's end would be humiliatingly complete and Poison Ivy would forever be remembered in the Rogue's Gallery for her accomplishment.
Power Girl's vision was almost black. Horrified, she realized that if she couldn't break free in the next few seconds she was going to die. Through clouded vision she could see Poison Ivy pointing at her, as if the woman's index fingers were pistols, and laughing before blowing away imaginary smoke and walking away across the yard. Expending all that remained of her power and energy, the blonde bombshell ripped her body away from the vines, her relieved ears clearly hearing them snap as she pulled away and sank into euphoric unconsciousness.
The End?