Supergirl Captured by the Mob-Story

A darker, full bodied blend.
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DrDominator9
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TaliaAlGhul,

That sounds about right, two months or so. But far be it for me to try to stop anyone from rereading certain favorite sections. Heck, I do it myself sometimes. :yes:
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Hmm that means that Clark has been in Luthor's 'tender loving care' for that long as well. Poor guy lol. I don't know why i had it in my head that aside from Supergirl, the other two had been in captivity for less than a month. Yeah i'll go back and re-read from Diana's ambush onward to see what else i might have accidentally missed.
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DrDominator9
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Fun and Games
Part 59-C



The world renowned Supergirl is poised on her hands and knees before the line of five mafia hoodlums breathing heavily as the AssMaster 2000 continuously cycles through its variety of stimulation algorithms. The belt is set on slow mode and right now it’s playing “Love is Blue” from the 70s. The calm soothing music has the balls in the blonde teen’s rear end slowly expanding and contracting in unison along the full length of the bladder. It draws a pleased sigh from the Maid of Mush as the mafia hoods stand there waiting for the famous beauty to begin sucking their cocks in order. Off behind her, Don Lupenzo sits on the long sofa quietly sipping a scotch, waiting his turn and appreciating the view from the rear as the naked-assed heroine crawls up to the first man. She gets up on her haunches, looks up into his eyes and says, “How do you like it, Tino?”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“Fast? Slow? What?”

“I don’t know. Just suck my cock the way you do all your other customers, whore. Why do I have to do the work here? You’re the super slut. You figure it out.”

Rocked back on her heels at Tino’s nasty barb, Supergirl’s face reddens at the presumption of her being so accustomed to this behavior. Then she realizes ‘Why wouldn’t he think that?” After all, she’d behaving like a skank ever since Gino had taken her hostage.

Basso jolts Tino with a shot to his ribs with an elbow. “Now look what you did, Tino. You went and made Supergirl self-conscious. Apologize to the lady.”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you for thinking you were a regular whore,” Tino says. “I know you’re better than that. You’re Super Whore.”

Basso laughs at the Maid of Steel’s scowling discomfort at this raw humiliation. “Yeah, that helped, Tino. Now she feels all better.”

All the men laugh at the Maid of Steel as she sits back on her heels and hangs her head.

This is the way a crack whore gets treated. What did I expect?

“Fine,” she finally spits out. “The usual it is.”

“Actually,” Basso interjects, “before you get started, if Tino don’t mind, I’d like you to do both of us together, Supergirl.” Tino nods his approval. “You see, we’re Gino’s personal bodyguards. This will be something we can discuss on long hours on the job over the years. The day Supergirl sucked us both off at the same time. A special memory, ya know. So, just go back and forth from him to me. Keep us both hard until we cum. Oh yeah, and start off with some nice handjob action. That sound good to you, Tino?”

“Sounds great, Basso. Good idea.”

“I...I...never did anything like that before,” stammers the frowning blonde heroine.

“How hard can it be?” Tino says crossly.

“I believe you meant to say how hard can we be,” Basso chimes in, the wiseass. Once again all the men laugh at this as well as the face of a flustered Supergirl.

“Just work it out as you go, Supergirl. It’ll come to you,” Gino calls from the couch.

“Or cum on you,” Basso jabs verbally. More laughter all around as the scowling Maid of Steel reaches over to the flies of each man’s pants and pulls out their weighty schlongs.

With her delicate young hands wrapped around each man’s penis, the teenage champion of truth, justice and the American way begins submissively jerking off the two mafia thugs simultaneously. Slowly at first, her hands slide up and down the hard love muscles in unison, stroking from head to base, up and down, again and again in a lazy rhythm that has both men grinning broadly. They both look down to see an oiled-up Supergirl with her tits wobbling in her near transparent blouse willingly whacking them off. Off to the side, Sal brings out his cell phone once again and snaps the scandalous scene for posterity. A series of clicking cell phones ensues as everyone realizes the historic nature of this raunchy event. Even Tino and Basso shoot down at their own junk, catching the Maid of Steel as her palms smooth over the heads of their respective cocks. It’s doubtful those shots will be in focus with both men jerking with joy at Supergirl’s accomplished handwork.

“How about some music that’s got a faster beat as you beat us off, Supergirl,” Basso says. “Gino, what other tunes you got over there?”


Scanning the instruction booklet, Gino calls out, “You got plenty to choose from. Let’s see, how about “Bennie and the Jets, that Elton John thing. That’s fast.”

“Poifect!” Tino says. “I love that one.”

“You got it, boys,” Gino says heartily, punching up the code on the remote.

The steady thumping rhythm of Elton’s keyboard tune issues out of the small speakers on the belt around Supergirl’s waist. It’s like a synthesized elevator version but it has much more drive than anything Muzak would provide. And the bladder within Supergirl’s rear end generates a steady pumping assortment of inflating rubber spheres that draws a hearty grunt from the aroused blonde.

“Ghhunnhh!”

As the song continues it progressive driving beat, Supergirl’s hands speed up their pace, stroking the two hoodlums with flying fists that bring their rods to sharp upward angles of pure pleasure.

“...whuuhhhh....mouth....now...” Basso commands the blonde. “And..uhhnnn... slow it down some.”

Supergirl immediately complies. She ambles forward a bit on shaky knees and puts her mouth around Basso’s prick, holding it tight in hand as she sucks on its tip with her warm vibrating lips. At the same time, she slows down the handjob she’s giving Tino. Both men give out long happy moans. After a moment, the Maid of Might switches off, mouthing Tino’s penis with her tight warm mouth and slowly jerking off Basso.

When “Bennie and the Jets” begins to reach its crescendo, so does Kara. She puts both dicks into the sides of her mouth simultaneously and works them over with her tongue and lips, squeezing, licking and sucking, all the time stroking their cocks with her hands with a frenzied speed that the two gangsters can’t hope to hold out against.

Timing it with the surprising precision of a long time street whore, Supergirl squeezes down on Basso’s cock at the very moment she gives Tino’s prick a triple head bob that overwhelms him with ecstacy. The big bruiser shoots his load into Supergirl’s mouth with a jerk of his hips as his hands reach for her head. She swallows it all without the hint of a gag reflex. All three thick spurts of his cum flow down the young teen heroine’s throat and there’s no leakage out of her mouth whatsoever. She pulls away from Tino’s weak hold of her head. Switching over, the able blonde girl puts her mouth over Basso’s rock hard cock while gently squeezing down on Tino’s deflating member. An oozing dribble of leftover cum drains over Supergirl’s fist even as she gives Basso the fast, jerking head bobs that pull her tight mouth up and down against his hot pulsing rod. It takes five or six gulping draws on Basso to bring him off but he does cum on the sixth hot sliding motion of Kara’s mouth against the skin of his prick. He goes off with the intense pressure of a man well satisfied. Supergirl swallows the ropey jets of cum in stride here as well. There’s a lot of it but she’s quite prepared this time and the whole clumpy load of Basso’s jism goes down Supergirl’s gullet into her stomach.

Two loads of ball juice done and four to go. She continues to hold onto the two men’s penises as they shrivel in her fists, their remaining cum leaking out and dribbling over her fists. Reluctantly, she lets them go. The feeling of control was a powerful rush to the surprised Kara. But after being a victim for over three hours, at least she felt she had the upper hand, so to speak, against these two, at least for a moment anyway.

The two bodyguards tuck their junk back into their pants and stumble off toward the kitchen to get some refreshment.

“Very nice, Supergirl,” Gino declares from the couch. “You have a knack for this work it seems. You’re not quite the shy young thing I took you for.”

“That’s just the belt’s doing,” Supergirl replies, trying to justify her thin pretense of overstimulation by the AssMaster 2000 rather than admit to the obvious fact that she had just jerked off and blown two guys to perfection in less than four minutes.

“If that’s the way you want it understood, I can accept that. Shall we proceed. I believe Sal is next.”

“Welcome back, Super Slut. Ready to suck on some real man-sized prick!”

“You’re a man-sized prick, all right,” Supergirl snaps back angrily and everyone laughs at Sal’s expense. “And as I recall, a tad over-anxious the last time we were in this position.” More laugher erupts, bringing an angry sneer to Sal’s face.

“As I remember, Super Skank, I was so big you were chokin’ on me.”

“I’ve choked on peanuts, too, Sal. Doesn’t mean they’re big. They just went down the wrong way.”

“The way I see it, there’s no wrong way for Supergirl to go down,” Sal comes back smartly and this elicits laughter at Kara’s expense. She frowns, with no ready response at hand. “Now blow me, whore, or no crack for you!”

Taunted and bested verbally and psychologically, Kara pouts as she reaches through the already unbuttoned fly of Sal’s navy blue sweatpants and pulls out his half-aroused cock. Poised on her knees before the sartorially-challenged thug, ready to begin another blowjob, Supergirl feels a firm hand caress her head and she flinches badly.

“Hold up there a second, princess. I want a tune of my own for you to suck me by. What else ya’ got, Don Lupenzo?”

“Hmm. There’s ‘Rock Around The Clock.’”

“Much too old school. What else,” Sal asks.

“We Didn’t Start the Fire, that Billy Joel number.”

“Hey, yeah. That’s nice and fast. Let’s do that.”

“Done,” Gino calls out and taps in the three digit code.

Supergirl turns her head to scowl at Gino. “Aren’t there any slow...NUUUHHHNNN!”

The second that the fast-paced tune blares out of the speaker on her belt, the balls inside her rear have instantly cycled through a stunning sequence of inflations and deflations that have the Maid of Steel reeling on her haunches. She pants in place and then is pulled close to Sal’s bobbing joint by a firm pull of his two palms on her head. Aroused and ready, Supergirl begins another blowjob.

And so it went for another twenty minutes of non-stop oral sex from Supergirl to Gino’s crew. She was fast and they were easy cum spigots in her mouth. Because, with a selection of fast-paced music in your ears, the vision of the famous, all-powerful Supergirl herself kneeling between your legs with her tits shaking through her semi-transparent costume, her bare ass greased to an exotic sheen poking out below, and her warm mouth treating you to unrelenting slippery lips and an imaginative, twisting tongue, how long would you last before you blew your wad in the pretty teen’s mouth. Exactly! And that’s what happens with Sal and the remaining members of Gino’s crew, including the ecstatic don himself.

Everybody came in the beautiful heroine’s pie-hole and she swallowed it all with not a drop of cum lost or gagged on in the least. Supergirl did her work happily, even greedily, as the music wafted its charms through the air and the belt and rubber sleeve did its thing. When the BJs for Crack Marathon ended, the world renowned Maid of Might had a fat bellyful of cum and a fresh pipe filled with crack. With it drooping dangerously from her rubber-lipped mouth, she got very, very high yet again. And everyone was smiling with idiotic delight.



* * *



Don Tony Bonano and his four-man mafia extraction team quietly search the ground floor of the Lupenzo headquarters in hopes of pulling Supergirl out of the building with a minimum of violence. They were all ready to handle, hell, even a firefight if need be, but everyone preferred a nice quiet extraction if it could be managed.

Tony walks around the slushy carpet in the library near the front of the building. Some sort of rocket had been fired into this room. The fish tank was a broken vessel with barely an inch of water in it. Beautiful but dead flat fish were scattered all around the room, as well as stray pieces of beautiful dead flat fish. The place also looked like a confetti factory had exploded. Scraps of paper were scattered everywhere from the books that had taken the brunt of the explosion.

“This is to be looking like a bazooka grade weapon went off in here,” Sergei notes, holding up a dead fish and eyeing it. “Peruvian angel fish. Very rare.”

“Very dead,” Tony answers. “Let’s pick up the pace, fellas. Wonder Woman’s coming down from the top and I want to make sure we all meet in the middle if possible. No stragglers, no risk. Gilberto, anything through that way?”

“Looks like a billiards room, Mr. Bonano. No significant damage except for powdered plaster all over the pool table. No bodies. No signs of life in there.”

“Fine,” Tony says, let’s see what’s on the other side of this ground floor.”

After a thorough search of the ground floor revealing no hidden bodies and very little destruction beyond the library, the five Mafia hoodlums head up the cracked marble stairway to the second floor.

“Man, somebody did a number on these stairs,” whispers Ricco to Mario. “This is one inch thick marble and every step is cracked like an angry elephant stomped up this stairway.”

“Or a young blonde girl with a lot of attitude,” Tony softly adds with a wide smile. He is very pleased at the level of destruction he has seen so far. Supergirl obviously came in with a vengeance before whatever happened to her took her down. There were blood spots in a couple of locations, including one at the bottom of the grand stairway. He hadn’t expected her to be this violent, assuming it wasn’t her blood. “Keep it on the down low, guys,” Tony adds in the softest voice possible. “This place is quiet and I don’t want to give away our position.”

Just then he hears soft moderate voices coming from the far end of the hallway that led to the top of the second floor landing. Putting his forefinger to his lips for silence he motions everyone to the left edge of the stairs and then waves his palm down to get everyone hidden by the large marble banister. He nudges Sergei to the lead followed by Gilberto.

“... if Gino would give us a promotion for capturing Wonder Woman?” One voice says.

“Possibly,” the second voice, pitched slightly higher, answers.

“But possibly not,” Sergei says softly, brandishing his knife before the stunned bookkeepers as he appears seemingly out of nowhere. Before either money man has a chance to think, Sergei jerks Graybeard off balance, spins him around and has a knife at the man’s throat facing his red-headed companion. Both men’s eyes are wide and frightened.

“Ssshhhh, now,” Sergei says, pressing the flat edge of the blade against Graybeard’s throat a little tighter as he begins to whimper. “I won’t hurt you. But you must tell us where Wonder Woman is to be found. Now.”

“...uh...uhp...upstairs. Fourth floor, Communications room. She’s unconscious.”

“If you hurt her badly, you will be receiving ten times the pain,” Sergei hisses.

“I just hit her with a lamp. She was still breathing. I could see those huge tits of her rising and falling,” Graybeard says, oddly defiant with a knife to his throat. Sergei admires this in the small man but a point must be made here about who’s in control.

The knife tightens against Graybeard’s neck once again. “You touched those tits, yes? Fondled them,” Sergei whispers. “Made her moan?”

“What? No. Not at all. I just looked. We just looked,” Graybeard protests. “How can you not, right, Joe?”

“Uh, yeah. They’re big alright. But...but we didn’t touch them. Like James said.”

“Couple of nancy boys, eh? Okay, let’s go upstairs and you will show me to Wonder Woman,” Sergei commands. He then looks at Tony. “What do you say, Tony? You think I can handle these two dangerous Mafioso strongmen on my own while you and the others check out the second floor?”

“I don’t know, Serg, they look pretty nasty,” Tony says, hiding a smile behind his hand.

“You! You’re Tony The Wire!” Joe says in shock. Tony Bonano is sneaking around Lupenzo headquarters. This is not good.

Tony gets serious instantly and coolly looks Joe straight in the eye. “Only my closest friends call me that. And I don’t know you from dog puke, fella. Sergei, take him and find Wonder Woman, then ice him.” Tony draws his finger across his throat and turns back to Ricco, Mario and Gilberto. “Let’s check down that way,” he says, indicating the hallway where the two bookkeepers had just come from.

“God, I’m sorry Mr...uh..Don Bonano. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just....WHEGHN!”

Sergei’s short hard jab to his solar plexus stops Joe’s whining before it gets any louder.

“Zip it, scum. Don Bonano don’t want to hear it. You disrespect him it’s the last time you do it to anyone. Let’s go.” Sergei motions to the two men to march forward. With his friend’s life hanging in the balance by having a knife held to his neck by an obviously angry Russian, James stays with Sergei as they head toward the back stairs leading to the upper floors. While the threesome climbs upward in a silent procession, Tony and the three young men stay on the second floor to search the rest of the far wing for Don Lupenzo and Supergirl. Little did he know that if he’d turned right instead of left, Tony would have come upon the lost superheroine and her captors immediately. But he did turn left and that choice will cost a man his life.


* * *


“Well, aren’t we all having a good time,” Don Lupenzo beams broadly at his men who have all congregated on the large sofa in the center of the room. Supergirl sits in a separate stuffed armchair, her legs are splayed out before her, her knees flopped apart, her crotch on full display under her oily skirt. Her panties have been replaced and the AssMaster 2000 has been removed, re-boxed and put away. The Maid of Steel is in the midst of another powerful crack high, her nodding head resting on her palm, her elbow propped up by the arm of the chair.

“...ahl....say....” Supergirl mumbles. “...whuz...nest...”


“Next, my dear? Well, what would you like to do? We’re open to suggestion,” Gino says.

“....more...azz...masta...while you....fuck...me....”

“Jeeze, this cunt is unbelievable,” Knuckles sneers. “She’s got no limits.” The big man takes a hefty swig from a half-empty 40-ounce bottle of Budweiser then wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

“...you!” Supergirl points at Knuckles with her finger, stabbing the air. “...yur my....limit!” She slurs her words badly, the cocaine blocking her mental skills like a glass partition. “Yur duh..biggest ...I can....take....”

“She’s giving you quite a compliment, Knuckles,” grins Gino Lupenzo. This girl was a hoot when high. Even when not high, her killer body and willingness to delve into the dirty pool of sexual depravity was a wonderful yet shocking development. She must have really gone off the deep end when he left the room to get that olive oil. Possibly she had some kind of psychotic break because from the time he returned with that oil, she seemingly had lost all her spirit and sense of self-esteem. Now she was willing to do anything for crack. Anything it seemed just to forget herself, including any mind-numbing sex act they, or apparently she, could think of. Well, who was he to discourage a heroine from exploring her inner slut.

“Great,” Knuckles says with obvious scorn. “I can satisfy a slack-holed whore of a heroine because I’m so big. My mother would be proud.”

“...probably....screwed....your...slack-holed.....muther...too...yuh....bas...turd....”

If it was Kara’s idea to be punished for her weakness, she could not have picked a faster more efficient way to get it done. Everyone is stunned into silence by her shocking insult.

And that insult is way too much for Knuckles to tolerate. He jumps up and rushes straight to Supergirl sprawled in her chair. The dazed girl doesn’t know what hit her. Before she realizes it, the chair is tipped back onto the floor with her in it on her back. Her throat is pinned in Knuckles’ meaty paw and her left boot is grabbed at the ankle with her leg hoisted high in the air and slapped over Knuckles back to stay there as he thrusts his weapon of choice deep into Supergirl.

When the neck of the large cold beer bottle is thrust past the hastily pulled-aside crotch of her panties and into her vagina, Supergirl’s eyes go wide in shock and pain. The neck of the forced bottle spreads her pussy lips so wide it causes the teen’s eyes to tear up instantly.

“OW! OHHH!” Suddenly, the feel of the ice cold beer emptying into her pussy completely disorients the drugged champion. For a moment she thinks it’s her blood.

“...huhh...uhhh....whats zat....?...blood..?..” The foamy brew floods her vagina and spills out in torrents onto the chair cushions around her in an icy river. Supergirl is upended like a helpless turtle, her mind dulled by the freshly-smoked crack and searing ribbons of pain as her legs flop against Knuckles shoulders. She is totally unable to comprehend what to do.

“You fuckin’ bitch! Nobody talks about my mother that way!” Knuckles is screaming in Supergirl’s face now. With a powerful shove of his elbow, the flaring six-inch wide base of the bottle rams against her opening while the thinner bottle necks drives up into the blonde beauty’s vagina, bruising it badly in the process.


“AAIEEEYEOWWW!” The Last Daughter of Krypton screams in pain and breaks down in heavy wracking sobs at the incredible agony in her groin. This is a level of pain that Kara has never quite experienced and she tries to curl up in a fetal position to get away from Knuckles. With the bottle held firmly in her vagina, Knuckles’ hands are now free. He grabs a wad of Supergirl’s blouse and pulls her up off the carpet. The raging behemoth delivers a powerful bitch slap to the weeping, terrified blonde heroine that blasts her head sideways. He delivers another slap to the other cheek and then once more for both sides of her face.

WHAP! SLAP! WHACK! SMACK!

“OWW! ..OHH....please....make him...stop....ohhhhhhh...” When the Maid of Steel slips out of Knuckles’ grip thanks to the oily film of her costume blouse, the terrified teen immediately curls up in a cringing, weeping ball. The oversized beer bottle is still jammed tightly into her snatch as she lies there in shock, blubbering and begging in mindless fear.

“Teach you to talk smack about my mom!” Knuckles is almost foaming at the mouth when Tino, Basso, Sal and Arturo all gang up on him and yank the 305-pound guy off the weeping, impaled 118-pound blonde girl.

“...get him...away....help me....please...I’m hurt...badly...please someone....”

“Come on, Knuckles, that’s enough,” Tino says. “You punished her.”

“Yeah, big fella. She got all she deserved,” Basso chimes in. “Let her go now.”

Slowly, the four brawny men, not weak or small in their own right, pull the crazed enforcer away from the crying blonde beauty, but it’s not easy. They’re all having to strain hard on his arms and torso.

“Teach you, bitch. Teach you,” Knuckles says again and again, still trying to swing slaps at the cringing heroine over the base of the tipped chair.

“Knuckles!!” Don Lupenzo shouts and everything gets deathly silent. The huge brawler stops fighting his four mob brothers and goes still. Then he turns to face Gino. Knuckles’ demeanor is cold and angry but it calms quickly as he sees the fury in Lupenzo’s own eyes. “I just hope you haven’t done permanent damage to this girl,” spits the livid don. “Get up on the roof and keep a lookout for anyone. Synchronize it with Vinnie out front. Get going.”

The big man rubs the back of his neck but doesn’t move right away. He bows his head and mumbles, “She started it.” Like a little child brought to task.

“The roof, Donny,” says Gino, using Knuckles’ given name. “Now!”

As soon as the big man leaves the room, everyone crowds around the wailing blonde curled up on the carpet. Arturo pulls out the 40-ounce beer bottle as gently as he can.

“....oh...Rao..(sob)....am I dying....?..(sob, sob).....feels like it....am I....?..(sob)....”

A thin streak of blood traces a line along Supergirl’s inner thigh. It mixes with the beer on her greenish flesh and turns the gold liquid a ruddy pink. Arturo has crouched the closest to Supergirl and shakes his head as he turns to look at Gino.

“I don’t know boss. It don’t look great, but there’s not that much blood.”

“Arturo, take the kryptonite necklace off her,” says Gino solemnly. “We’ve got to give her a chance to recuperate. I don’t like it but we don’t have a choice, I’m not letting this lovely prize die on me.”

“If she gets too powerful, boss, she could put us all away for good.”

Leaning over the crying, snot-dripping blonde wreck, Gino caresses her face which brings the stoned out, pain-wracked girl’s attention and focus to the elderly don’s eyes; but not much understanding. “If I take off the kryptonite necklace, Supergirl, will you promise me not to take us to jail or get the cops or do anything other than flying away?”

“....oww.....whut....?....”

Gino repeats himself, twice more in fact, until the blonde beauty finally understands what he’s asking. She agrees to his terms in heavy sobs as the pain continues to wrack her groin and her blood continues to drain slowly from between her thighs.

Arturo removes the pendant and starts to take it into the next room.

“No, wait!” Gino stops him with a sharp command that turns the loyal hoodlum around in quiet expectation. “Give me the pendant. I have a place for it.” When Arturo hands over the glowing green jewelry, Gino puts it back in the secret compartment in the red box and puts it on a nearby shelf. It was close enough to bring back into play when he needed it.

Once again, Supergirl is escorted to the couch, this time under her own power although with a man on each arm as she takes wincing steps over to the sofa and is gently guided down onto the plush cushion. She lays back, deep into the couch, whimpering softly with a steady drip of salty tears trailing down her face.

Finally, after eight minutes, the weeping, distraught Maid of Steel calms down as she begins to feel better. The greenish tint disappears from her earlobes and eyelids and cuticles. The blood from her vagina ceases its steady trickle. Supergirl’s breathing improves as does her color. She is still very weak but she’s drinking spring water from a bottle and is talking quietly and softly to Don Lupenzo as the rest of the crew looks on from various positions on the long sofa.

“Yes, I feel better now, Gino. Thank you for sending Knuckles away. I don’t know... .wh..what I would have done if you guys didn’t stop him.”

“We just want you to get your strength back, Supergirl. Again, it was never our intention to hurt you like that. But why did you goad Knuckles like that, so cruelly and deliberately. Didn’t you know what would happen?”

“...i...don’t..know...” Supergirl gets very quiet and hesitant now. “... guess...it was...you know...the crack talking....”

“I don’t,” Gino states with quiet authority. “I think you were asking for it, Supergirl. I think you wanted to be killed. I think you feel it’s the ultimate punishment you think you deserve.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Supergirl snaps back vehemently. “It was the drugs. That’s all.”

“Really?” Gino looks skeptical. “You don’t feel guilty in the least about all the sex you’ve agreed to here?”

“What...uh...no. No, not at all,” Supergirl replies all too quickly. “It was...all a barter thing. You know, sex for crack. We agreed and I stuck to my word.”

“You agreed pretty fast. Sure surprised me,” Gino says earnestly.

“I don’t think so. Not at all. I weighed the options and ...you know, felt it was the only way to make the best of a bad situation,” Supergirl looks at the carpet at this, avoiding Gino’s eyes.

“The only way out, huh?”

“Yes, of course. I’d like to go now. You’re going to let me go now, right?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t believe I can trust you, Supergirl.”

“A superheroine never lies. Never goes back on her word. When I say something, you can believe it’s true.” Kara sticks her jaw out and holds her head high at this.

“That’s pure bullshit. You lied to me just now.”

“About what?” Kara’s eyes glare at Gino. She is getting some of her strength back now and it feels damn good. She is going to live through this night. “I’m not going to take you to jail or get the police. I’m keeping my part of the bargain. Just the way I did with the sex for crack bargain. No difference.”


“Oh, there’s a big difference, my dear. This bargain you struck just now was due to a true, real fear of death. The earlier bargain you struck was due to an uncontrollable need for crack, a devastating failure of nerve and a deep and permanent self-hate, in that order.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know superheroines don’t quickly agree to humiliating, degrading sex unless they’ve sold their soul to crack. And even then, they might have some pride. But you, you went far past that. You couldn’t handle that you’d sold your soul and so you tried everything you could think of to deny you even had a soul. And that meant the famous Supergirl was going to be the Fuck Queen of New York just to prove she wasn’t worth spit. Well, in my book, someone like that isn’t worth spit, Supergirl. And their word is complete bullshit. You’d sell your soul for crack at the drop of a hat and if it’s Tony who provides it, you’d turn us over to the cops on his say so at the drop of a hat. No sorry, Supergirl. You’re staying with us from now on. You’re going to be Don Lupenzo’s whore, not Don Bonano’s. Those are my rules and they’re the ones that count!”

“Get out of my way, Gino. I’m leaving now!” Supergirl stands up quickly and when Gino stands up as well and goes to grab her arm, she slaps it away so hard it spins the elderly don in place until he sprawls gracelessly on the couch.

Tino and Basso react to this like attack dogs, leaping across the couch from opposite directions with surprising quickness. They tackle Supergirl like a well-coached pair of linebackers, taking her high on the chest and low at the legs. The Maid of Might is crushed into the sofa and held there by Tino and Basso, her powers at a mere fraction of their normal strength.

“Sal, the red box!” Gino rasps out weakly, feeling faint from all the exertion.

Sal grabs the box, opens the secret chamber and rushes over to the couch where Supergirl is trying desperately to get some leverage against Tino and Basso so she can extricate herself from the depths of the cushy leather sofa. Arturo has rushed over and stands in front of Supergirl, trying to grab her flailing boots while she waves them at the lunging man to keep him at bay. That’s one reason she can’t get any leverage against Gino’s two burly bodyguards.

“Damn you, Lupenzo, tell your men to let me go,” Supergirl growls as she wrestles against the two strong men who are now struggling harder and harder to keep Supergirl pinned on the couch. “I’m getting stronger every minute and I don’t want to hurt them. Let me fly away and nobody gets hurt.”

“If I could trust you I would,” replies a tired Gino as he teeters over to the now righted armchair that Supergirl had been assaulted in by Knuckles. The elderly don sits down, ignoring the wet beer stain and the minute traces of blood. He’s getting his wind back.

“Sal, put that green rock in her mouth and hold it there. I’ll shoot her up with the crack. Tino, Basso, you still got her?”

“For now, boss, but she’s strong as an ox and getting stronger,” Basso shouts over a straining, angry Supergirl.

“Let me go, you bastards.” The blonde champion aims a vicious kick at Arturo who just manages to sidestep it. He grabs her boot but Supergirl easily wrenches it away from his grasp.

From behind her, Sal grabs a major clump of Supergirl’s hair and yanks her head back until her neck arches and her hair hangs over the back of the couch.

“Aaaghh...damn you, you mob cretins! Let go!” Supergirl shouts, then suddenly clamps her mouth shut tight when she sees Sal bring the kryptonite pendant up to her mouth. She’s clamped it so tight, he can’t get it past her white, tightly thin lips.


“Open up, bitch!” Sal grinds the rock against Kara’s lips and her eyes fill with tears at the pain but her mouth doesn’t slacken one little bit.

However, even though Supergirl’s legs still flail wildly to try to prevent Arturo from seizing them and compromising her position even further, with her head yanked back by Sal, she can’t see where the smaller thug is at this point. So when he grabs her right ankle once again, she pulls her leg sharply to right, pulling it out of his grasp yet again. This is exactly what Arturo was hoping for. With her legs splayed far apart, her open crotch is an easy target for Arturo’s pile-driving fist. Her barely healed crotch sparkles with sudden pain and Supergirl helplessly yelps in torment.

“AIEEE....ELGKK!” The tiny sliver of kryptonite is jammed into the blonde teen’s mouth and her jaw is snapped shut and held tightly in place by a grimacing Sal. Even this bitch’s jaw is strong. He can barely hold it shut with one hand on the top of her head and the other clamped under Supergirl’s chin. But the balance of power has now shifted away from the Maid of Might. Her once increasing powers are held in check, but not diminished by the small glowing rock. Her angry eyes blaze up at Sal but he holds on for dear life, hoping the kryptonite works. But it’s so small, how can it?

And then Gino Lupenzo walks over behind the couch with a syringe in hand. He pushes a tiny spray of liquified crack out of the needle to clear any air bubbles and jabs the needle into an exposed patch of skin on Supergirl’s neck. With her powers at a fraction of their normal levels, the needle is just able to penetrate her resistant skin and the crack is pumped into her body by a deeply exhaling Don Lupenzo.

Success!

“HNGH!. Prck!” Supergirl growls though her tightly held jaw. “Prmsd!”

“Promised?” Gino repeats the word he’s sure he’s heard. “Well, I guess we just can’t trust each other, Supergirl. It’s a shame. I wanted to, really.”

With the kryptonite in her mouth, Supergirl can’t fight the powerful effects of the crack now circling through her brain. Her body goes slack in the hold of Tino and Basso who slowly release the Maid of Steel as her body goes limp on the couch and her knees flop open.

Sal releases his hold on the teenage heroine’s jaw and it drops open in slack, doped, senselessness. Sal carefully pulls the kryptonite pendant out of the dazed blonde’s mouth, pulls open her blouse and lets the rock and its chain drop between Supergirl’s breasts once again.

The famous Maid of Steel is back where she started. But this time, Gino is extremely pissed at her.

“Get me that black leg spreader bar from the bottom shelf of the panty, Tino,” Gino snaps out angrily. “I’m done being nice to this ignorant cunt. It’s now open season on Supergirl’s twat, gentlemen. Who wants to join me?”

The look of serious menace flies between all the mafia men standing around the splay-legged Supergirl. With her panties showing beneath her oily skirt, the heavily-drugged famous Maid of Steel is a sitting duck.
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DrDominator9
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Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Extracting the Goods
Part 60


By the time it finally finished up, the gang bang of Supergirl in Don Gino Lupenzo’s headquarters was a endless, grueling exhibition of desperation and degradation. But even as the spreader bar was being cuffed to the ankles of the drugged-up heroine’s slick red boots and her legs were spread helplessly apart by three feet of inflexible black iron, the blonde teen felt no fear for herself. It wasn’t just the crack keeping her calm. She dazedly came to the realization that she was simply back to square one: she was high on crack, weak from kryptonite and expected to perform like a whore. And so, helped on by the drugs and the programmed behavior that Tony so adeptly ingrained within her, she fuzzily concluded that she should simply continue comply to the men’s desires and commands. Why not? She had shown herself to be little more than a crack whore after all, hadn’t she?

Within her, a deep-seated sense of cosmic justice filled her head as her body was abused and defiled again and again and again. Throughout every heinous act of sexual debauchery, the dazed, drugged and defenseless blonde champion repeated to herself the phrase that allowed unspeakable humiliations to be committed against her without any complaint. In fact, even beyond conscious consent, the famed champion offered more than eager assistance at times, always phrasing the same thought.

I am a worthless, gutless sack of shit who deserves this.

So, when her asshole was deeply invaded by a frosty wine bottle that Sal had been drinking from, even as the strong-bodied hoodlum pressed her thigh to the carpet and jolted his hips against her pelvis in a hard-core fucking, the blonde heroine took it all without complaint. In fact, she even complemented the thug afterward on his technique of turning the bottle just so for the maximum angle of pleasure that allowed the teenage beauty to orgasm in shivering, panting delight from the combined sensations of the bottle and his hard, pumping cock.

When Arturo gently uncuffed and removed her boot and had the dizzy blonde continually swivel her dainty foot around and around in slow, steady circles and in firm caressing sweeps of his stiff cock until he ultimately splooged his cum all over her naked toes, her ticklish sole, and her comely instep, the famous Last Daughter of Krypton merely threw her head back and giggled and grinned in foolish, moronic glee.

When Tino pulled up her blouse, sat on her stomach, plopped his swollen rod between her full breasts and pushed and pulled his dick to a frenzy back and forth between her pillowed tits until he blew his wad all over Supergirl’s pretty young face, the compliant blonde had gladly held her breasts together to ensure her oily cleavage was deep enough and slippery enough for the grunting hoodlum’s penis to get so excited that it jetted its salty spew up her nose and onto her forehead with room to spare.

And still she repeated to herself, I am a worthless, gutless sack of shit who deserves this.

When Basso pinned her to the carpet with his hand thrust firmly up under her breasts and slowly fingered the famous Maid of Steel’s pussy until her eyes fluttered, her body jerked in place and her cum ran out between her thighs in tiny rivulets, the writhing teenage girl merely oohed and aahed her satisfaction. Even when the big bodyguard turned her over so she was face down on the carpet with her ankles and wrists securely shackled to the iron bar and her butt in the air, the blonde beauty merely shivered and climaxed like some brainless barfly while Basso endlessly fucked the shackled Guardian of Good doggy-style. Truth be told, Supergirl was more than willing to serve her part in his pleasure and her shame.

But then it got very nasty. After Basso completed his energetic fucking of the famous Maid of Steel and she was lying face down on the carpet in a purring, dreamy daze from the relentless exertion and the floaty sexual satisfaction, Don Lupenzo angrily swiped two items off the counter that he’d placed there for when he was ready for a turn. This dumb cunt was enjoying herself far too much, he concluded. She had destroyed his headquarters and, as much fun as it was to jam a dick into this famous heroine turned crack whore and pump away, she deserved considerable pain and payback as well for all the trouble she’d caused not just today but over the past few years.

So he went at her with a brown, long-neck beer bottle in one hand and a massive dildo in the other. He shoved the bottle into her already dripping cooze and the huge dildo into her greasy pink asshole. And he punished her mercilessly with both tools, pressing them with a hot vengeance far deeper than her cavities would readily accept. She screamed and cried and struggled and howled for the duration of his abuse but with her wrists and ankles securely bound to a three-foot bar of unyielding iron and the small kryptonite crystal eliminating her powers, there was simply nothing she could do to prevent the abuse. So, deserving or not, Supergirl broke down and sobbed for mercy, begged for forgiveness for any and all actions past and present and even those in the future, and ultimately, simply pleaded in raspy, hoarse whispers for him to end his punishment. She had been tortured enough. Nobody deserved this, no matter what.

But Gino went on with it for another five minutes and Supergirl’s spirit shattered like a plate glass window in a tornado. Snot drained from her nose into her mouth and she didn’t care. A small circle of urine puddled beneath her hips as she lied on the carpet a broken and defeated wreck and she was completely unaware of it. A splattering of blood from her orifices striped the carpet, too. And Supergirl’s tears mixed with the blood as she begged for release with her last choking sob.

Finally Gino stopped. The implements were withdrawn and he knelt down beside Supergirl. His blurry face swam through the curtain of her tears to look directly into her taut and haggard face as her hands and boots laid limp in their leather cuffs and her wet cheek pressed into the carpet.

“You’re never interfering with my business again, are you, Supergirl?”

“...no...never..(sob)....never....ever...”

“You see me, you fly in the other direction, right?”

“...away....yes..(weep)....always...fly away...away from you..(sob)....always..always....”

“And you don’t even know my name or what I look like, do you, whore?”


“....don’t....know you...(whimper)....never knew you...(sob)... wouldn’t recognize.. ...you..if.. i...even...bumped...into you....(weep)... not you...never you...never....never....”

“Good, then we understand each other. Let’s get you some more crack, my dear.”

“...pleez...rao...yes...pleeze...more..crack....stop the...pain...”

After she raggedly drew on the smoke from pipe gently held by Tino, Supergirl dropped into a silent funk of mere dopey withdrawal. At least for a few minutes. Then the crew started in on her again and the famous Maid of Steel cried and begged to be let alone. But she was forced to suck every man’s cock yet again. Her mouth was stretched painfully wide, her lips bruised and battered, her tongue grown swollen and sore, her throat scraped raw by penises of great width and length And with all that, Supergirl’s nodding head was gripped in place and she was forced to swallow thick jetting streams of pasty white cum again and again and again until her belly gurgled and she was weak with indigestion.

And her sore vagina and ass were assaulted over and over by these same men with their toys and their lust and their heat and their anger. Pricks from every direction in every possible combination were thrust at her and into her, jammed though any crevice her body would provide, be it natural like her vagina or rectum or unnatural like her armpit or the nape of her neck, harshly bent and sticky with dried olive oil, as someone came on her upper chest and all down over her exposed tits. Her sore vagina and tender asshole gave her no further pleasure as they were violated repeatedly by Gino’s men. It was all harsh grimaces and yelps of pain.

The final disgrace was the circle jerk. The dazed, broken and whimpering heroine was laid out on her back, arms thrown wide, her sticky costume roughly pulled back onto her sprawled body in wrinkled, slovenly disarray. Her cape was reattached and her ankles were securely re-cuffed to the spreader bar. Inertly posed in a confused, disoriented state, with her face gone green with deadly kryptonite radiation once again, the mighty Maid of Steel suffered her last indignity.

It had been discussed among them earlier and each man played his part, carefully timing his climax for the very same release point when Gino gave the signal. High arcing ropey streams of pungent semen rained down on the cuffed blonde heroine with all the venom that gravity and male domination could provide. It splattered over her figure everywhere, smacking her in the face, dropping into her gasping mouth, coating her heaving costumed chest, her bare trembling legs, her twitching shiny red boots. It clung to her famous uniform in hanging drapes of dripping white jizz that glistened on her body like the devil’s own wrapping paper itself.

And then they were all done. Each man staggered to a spot, exhausted and pleased beyond measure. They swooned like girls, and fell to the carpet in exhausted sleep. Vanquishing heroes all. Except for Gino who had the presence of mind to head for his secret panic room and collapse in there. Quiet and safe and satisfied.

Supergirl was encased by pain and shame, and sick with radiation poisoning from the pendant that still clung between her breasts. In the end, she drifted away into a slowly blackening void of her own, repeating her mantra to herself as she did. I am a worthless, gutless sack of shit who deserved this.

But she didn’t. No one deserved treatment like that. And maybe one day in the future, she would come to accept that fact. Maybe.



* * *



“...ake up, Princess. You, dog breath, help me to be getting her to her feet.”

That’s Sergei’s voice. Sergei patting my face.

People on both sides of Diana are pulling her up off the floor by her arms. She slowly brings her drooping head off her chest with great effort. Her blurry vision gradually begins to clear as she is set down onto a hastily retrieved rolling secretary chair. She looks to her left to see Sergei’s blonde goatee swim into view and then his piercing blue eyes, now anxious with concern.

He actually look like he cares!

She slumps against the thinly cushioned chair back with a sigh then a groan as the tenderness of her wounded head flares with a sharp stab of pain.

“Ohhhh! You get the license number of the truck that hit me?”

“Was no truck. Was this hump here,” Sergei nods towards a man in a brown suit. Diana looks to her right and sees a redhead in brown standing next to a gray-haired man in blue, both nodding at her with terse, humbled anxiety, fearful about how she will react. She vaguely remembers the guy in blue popping up behind a desk but the redhead is unfamiliar. Of course, he’d clocked her from behind with some kind of blunt object, why would she recognize him.

“You the one who hit me. From behind. Like a cowardly ball-less eunuch?”

“...I...uhhm....I guess so...yes.”

“You’re not sure it was you or that you’re a cowardly eunuch?”

“Hey,” Joe blurts, “you’re the one who came sneaking into our place, lady. I was just, you know, trying to protect what’s ours. Anybody would.”

Suddenly furious, Wonder Woman stands up rapidly to grab at his lapel but doesn’t make it. Instead, instantly dizzy and nauseous from her injury, she awkwardly lurches forward with both hands out and clings to the man in brown, her knees sagging against him, her hands clutching at the crooks of his elbows, her forehead butting into his chest as she tries desperately not to faint dead away. The man manages to hold her up, his hands gripping her smooth bare upper arms to keep her from falling to the floor in a heap. He’s surprised how light the raven-haired beauty is. Slipping lower against him, Wonder Woman’s large, soft breasts push against his crotch and he feels his groin throb and himself stiffen as he holds the limp figure tightly in his sweaty hands.

“...uuhhhhhh....” Wonder Woman groans miserably, unused to such weakness.

Sergei bolts forward and helps Diana ease back down onto the chair. Reluctantly, the red-headed Joe guides her there as well and lets her go. Fuckin’ Wonder Woman! And he’s already stiff as a board. He backs up suddenly since her nodding head is about a foot from his tented pants. James, his gray-bearded associate in blue, noticing the bulging fabric, shakes his head with a mix of envy and amusement.

“Relax, Princess. You are not at your best,” advises Sergei. “You need time to recover before you can be dispensing justice to these vermin. If you’d like I can kill them for you.”

The color in both men’s faces instantly drains away to ghostly white as they look at each other in wide-eyed horror.

“..wait...” Diana grunts with quiet urgency “...thanks... anyway, Sergei. I...I just have to take an extra moment here, I guess.”

“Wonder Woman,” says the red-head, horrified about even the prospect of Sergei killing him. He verbally backpedals from his earlier statement about protecting his turf. This is his life in the balance here after all. “I’m so, so sorry. I..I...lost my head. I was scared and I...”

“SHUTTHEFUCKUP!” Sergei screams and clocks Joe a good one with the butt of his rapidly pulled, hard-swinging pistol. The red-head staggers, his eyes roll up and he drops to the floor on his knees, his arms dangling limp at his sides. And then he lurches forward onto his face, completely out.


“Joe!” James shouts and leans over to give aid to his friend. Sergei gives graybeard a hardy knock all his own on the back of his noggin and the second man falls to a heap on top of his accountant friend.

“Why I should not be putting a bullet into these two men’s skulls is beyond me, Wonder Woman, but if that’s what you are wanting, then fine.”

“Let’s just get Kara and get out of here,” the now recuperated Themysciran sighs.

“You sure you can walk?”

“I’ll be fine, Sergei. And by the way, is it my imagination or are you actually starting to care about me?”

“Nyet. You are too valuable to lose. I am merely to be protecting my interest,” Sergei blusters.

“That’s good. We wouldn’t want Tony to think his enforcer was getting all mushy now, would we?”

“Not mushy. Resolute.”

“Right,” Diana smiles at the grim-faced Russian, with her power belt on, she’s back to a better measure of her traditional strength once again. “Resolute. The word of the day. Let’s go find Kara and put this place in our rearview mirror!” The gorgeous Amazon stalks out of the room and Sergei follows her quickly, admiring her shapely, bouncing white-starred ass every step of the way.



* * *



Tony, Gilberto, Mario and Ricco carefully search the rooms at the opposite end of the second floor hallway from where the roomful of mob thugs and Supergirl lay sleeping in near comatose condition. Office doors are jerked open with guns drawn at the ready. Here there is no damage. Apparently Supergirl hadn’t made it into this wing of the building. But there’s also no one else around. Maybe everyone had come running when the commotion started and left their offices on the run. Several half-eaten doughnuts and cardboard cups of cold coffee seem to indicate that was the case.

One final office is left before they will head back in the other direction to check the other wing and Ricco, being nearest, takes a quick look inside. Once again there is one of Gino’s crew waiting behind the door to surprise the searching foe but there’s no lamp this time, merely an old-fashioned gray stapler. It comes swinging down towards Ricco’s head but the young hood’s awareness is tuned higher than Wonder Woman’s was and he feels the breeze and senses the shadows shift in time to duck his head, reflexively spin around and come up with his switchblade in a harsh upward thrust directly into his assailant’s sternum.

“UUNGH!”


The slight young man with oversized black round glasses and wide owlish brown eyes who stands before Ricco with a knife sticking out of his chest is a surprised as a person can be. And at a mere 20 years old, the curly haired mafioso stares in wonder as the blood seeps out around the wound and stains his shirt in an ever-expanding wet red ring. How can his life be over? It was just starting. He was actually making the first good money of his life as a fast young bagman for the Lupenzo family. He was going out on a date next week with that sexy little coffee shop waitress. Was it Patty? He can’t remember. He’s so tired all of a sudden. He drops the useless stapler. What a dumb weapon he’d chosen. He has to sit down and rest. And the young man who had stuck this knife in his chest so suddenly and so meanly is now nice enough to help him sit. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. It’s just that there’s this real bad stain on his shirt and he’s so tired. As he slumps against the wall, his head falls sideways on to his shoulder. He just has to rest, he thinks as he stares into the growing blackness. Just has to rest.

Ricco takes a step back in shock at his first kill. It was self-defense but he feels a little nauseous and shocky. The young man before him stares into the void, his head slumped sideways, his shirt doused with blood. His time over.

“Ricco, everything good in there? You coming,” Tony says in a loud stage whisper.

“There’s a guy in here,” he replies.

Tony strides over to the office in four quick paces and steps inside to see Ricco standing before some dead young kid. The others enter the room and crowd around the scene.

“Whoa! You do that?” Tony is stunned at the scene before him.

“He was gonna brain me with that stapler.”

The young don looks into the eyes of Carmine’s stepson. The redhead is pale and shaky and his eyes are wide, deep and filled with a knowledge he doesn’t want to possess. Tony puts his hand on Ricco’s shoulder and squeezes gently.

“It was him or you, Ricco. He would have bashed your brains in with that heavy thing. Keep that thought in mind. It will help through the years.”

It takes all he has for Ricco to look away from the slouching figure into Tony’s eyes and he registers the advice dimly as he finds a kinship in the young don’s eyes. This man has killed too. He knows the stories. He sees that shared knowledge in Tony’s eyes. Ricco knows it wasn’t always self-defense either. And he sees this man has made his peace with his knowledge of what it is to take everything possible away from another human being. Ricco’s not sure if he can find that kind of peace.

“We’ve got to go,” Tony urges. “We’ve got to find Supergirl and get out of this building. You going to be okay?”

“Sure,” Ricco says softly, very unsurely. He takes a final look at the body and sees his switchblade. He bends down and tries to pull his knife out of the dead man. It won’t release and he doesn’t want to put his hand against that bloody shirt to yank it out. But his fingerprints are all over the switchblade and he sure as hell knows he doesn’t want to go to jail for this. So he puts his hand against the body’s neck and yanks hard. The blood spurts out as the blade jerks away and Ricco is fast enough to dance out of the way. He’s always been fast enough in his life. It’s what has helped him stay one step ahead of trouble. He hopes it will last, he thinks, as he wipes the bloody blade against the body’s chinos and stands up to follow Tony out the door and away from the grisly scene.

Behind him Gilberto is scowling, shaking his head as he gives the body a final glance. He’s angry that he didn’t get a chance to kill anybody himself. Some guys have all the luck.

Out in the hall, as Tony and the three young hoods head toward the other wing, Sergei and Wonder Woman come down the back stairs. Sergei has led the Amazon to where he figured Tony would most likely be found.

“You okay, Diana?” Tony asks softly, seeing the troubled blue eyes and the slight tremor of the heroin addiction building in the woman.

“Fine. You didn’t find Kara yet?” Wonder Woman replies in a loud whisper of her own. She is totally focused on the mission, trying to block out her burgeoning need.

“We were just going to search in there.” Tony indicates the door to the right of the main stairway.

“Let’s go then,” Diana says fiercely, taking a long stride forward before she feels a grip on her upper arm and her body being jerked back.

“Let the men do this, Wonder Woman,” Sergei hisses, his fingertips pressing white dots into Diana’s flesh. “You are too brash.”

“She’s my friend,” Diana hisses right back at the Russian.

“This is exactly my point,” Sergei doesn’t relent in his attitude or his grip. Tony moves on ahead followed by the three young men. Sergei follows holding onto Diana who walks angrily at his side.

When Tony and company push stealthily through the door at the top of the smashed and broken marble stairway, they are all shocked at the sight before them. Four unconscious hoods lie around the room in slouched piles of human debris. They don’t seem dead, but they’re certainly deeply asleep. Two of them are snoring softly. In the middle of the room is Supergirl and what a fucking mess she is! She clearly looks like she’s been fucked half to death with that spreader bar cuffed to her ankles and her legs spread apart like that. Her entire body, besides being drenched in cum, is a pure emerald green that Tony knows is very, very bad. He can see that her naked breasts are rising and falling in slow, uneven jerks. She’s alive!

Wonder Woman gasps aloud and Tony spins on her vehemently. He glares at her and motions everyone to be quiet and to stay in place in the doorway. He then strides over with silent speed to Supergirl’s limp form. None of the four figures on the floor even stirs. Tony begins searching her body for the glowing green element he knows is there somewhere. Ruthlessly he explores her orifices with his fingers for any foreign objects. Scowling with disgust at the draining cum he has to push through, the mob boss is angry and scared at the same time.

Where the fuck is the kryptonite? The color is too bright for it not to be on her person. She’d either be dead and permanently green, he expected, or the color would have faded if the element had been removed to a safe distance. Not in the mouth. Not in her pussy or shoved up her rear. So where? He rustles through the skimpy uniform, feeling for lumps in the fabric and getting nothing. He reaches underneath her and feels along her yellow belt but there are no bulges there either. That only leaves...Of course, her boot! He pulls it off the limp eye-fluttering blonde with a jerk and up-ends it. Out of the recesses of the toe falls a silver pendant with a small glowing green jewel. At last! But it is so small. How could this little thing possibly have effected Supergirl quickly enough to incapacitate her? Tony doesn’t know but he doesn’t want to stay here any longer to find the answers. The foot he is holding is actually glowing with green blood poisoning. He flips the pendant over to Mario who snatches it in midair and slips it into his pants pocket.

Tony picks up the wheezy blonde champion, spreader bar and all, and quietly walks over to the doorway. With four large, dozing thugs strewn around, Tony doesn’t want to push his luck. When Tony reaches the doorway with the unconscious Kryptonian hero sagging in his arms, Wonder Woman frowns deeply at the horrific sight of her friend’s limp, cum-soaked body.

“Great Hera. Is she alive?” Diana is pale with terror. Supergirl is between breaths, her body deathly still.

“Barely! We’ve got to get her back to the Dome and see what we can do for her,” Tony whispers his orders. “Diana, her panties and other boot are over by the couch. I don’t know where Gino’s gone off to but the four guys in there aren’t dead, just asleep. Be quiet as you can and get her stuff so we can get out of here.”

“Done. I just wish I could visit justice on these heartless pricks!”

Sergei’s eyebrows go up. He’s never heard Diana use such language with such deep anger before. At least not at anyone else besides himself. “Not to worry, Wonder Woman. They will all to be paying one day if Sergei has anything to say about it.”

Diana turns to the tall bearded blond Russian mobster and actually puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes it gently. “Thank you, Sergei. With you on their case, I know it will get done. That gives me a bit of consolation.” She goes over quietly to retrieve Kara’s things while Sergei stands there momentarily, glowing with pride.

After Wonder Woman silently retrieves Kara’s things, the small group softly pads down the main stairway and out of the building. It’s a two-minute walk back to the Escalade and a twenty minute ride back to the South Bronx and the haven of the Pleasure Dome. On the ride home, Supergirl’s skin color slowly shifts away from the Kelly green that had Diana scared to death. The Maid of Steel’s breathing steadies up as her soft warm body lies across the laps of the three young men, and her head in Wonder Woman’s lap as the Amazon softly strokes the Kryptonian’s fevered brow.

Ricco, Mario and Gilberto all have raging boners.


* * *


Gino turns onto his back and slowly comes awake in his queen-sized bed. It takes a moment for the old don to orient himself. He glances at the clock by the bed and notes it says 4:30. Is that a.m. or p.m.? He sees the stacked shelf of canned goods and realizes he’s not at home but rather in the bed set in the back corner of his impenetrable panic room. What the hell had happened? Oh yes, he had captured and fucked Supergirl to a fare-thee-well. He and his crew. Exhausted, he had staggered in here to sleep. But that was two and a half hours ago! Unless it was over fourteen hours, but he doubted that. Where was the girl? Where were his men?

Groggily Don Lupenzo swings his legs off the bed and smooths out his shirt and then tucks it into his suit pants. There’s one camera pointing out to the corridor just outside the room, the only camera in the building. Unlike Tony Bonano, Gino hates cameras, dislikes the frozen images they capture that can ruin a man in court as incontrovertible evidence. The only reason he abides this one is so he can see what’s outside the room’s door. He pushes the on switch for the monitor and sees the empty corridor so he unlocks the door and steps out to see what’s going on.

Walking into the kitchen down the hall from his main office where all the action had taken place, Gino sees Basso sitting at the table eating a prosciuto and swiss sandwich.

“Where’s Supergirl?” Gino looks at the big bodyguard who has frozen in mid-chew.

“Whaddaya mean? I thought she was inside that room with you.”

“WHAT! NO, SHE FUCKING WASN’T IN WITH ME!” Gino is screaming at the big brown-haired bodyguard who drops his sandwich and stands up for the lack of anything better to do. This was bad.

After fifteen minutes and a thorough search of the devastated building, Gino has discovered the famous blonde is nowhere to be found. It’s not quite clear what exactly happened. When he wandered off to the panic room, she’d been bright green and barely conscious. Now she was gone. And there’s a lot more to concern him as well. Down the hall, his young bagman Joey is dead, a deep stab wound in his chest, the front of his torso completely red, his eyes open. In the downstairs library, Vinnie is dead on the sopping wet carpet, dragged among his prized Peruvian angel fish, his throat with a hole in it. Up on the roof, Knuckles is a twisted heap of broken bones, dead from a broken neck.

And now beside him his two accountants are suddenly mumbling that Wonder Woman had knocked them out and probably had taken the blonde heroine with her. After further rigorous questioning and gaps in their stories, Gino discovers that not only was Wonder Woman there but Tony Bonano and apparently a whole crew to help him, including some big blond Russian guy. Right there in his own headquarters! Gino is furious. He’s shouting at everyone about incompetence and stupidity and ramifications but then he goes quiet. Because he knows he’s as much to blame as everyone else. He’d left the blonde lying there trussed up thinking someone else would take care of watching her. However, everyone had dropped off to sleep after the circle jerk and Tony “The Wire” had just waltzed in with his people, grabbed the girl and left, after killing at least three of his people. All of Gino’s men from the building are now gathered in his office, collected as he swept through the building in his search.

“Okay, everyone is gonna have to move to my building in the Village,” announces Gino, calmer now, taking control and directing his troops. His fun is over. He has to regroup and figure out his next step. Despite his admiration for Tony’s control of Supergirl and Wonder Woman, he now wants the brazen young don dead again, now more than ever. Nobody was going to come into his own headquarters and steal from him. No one!

He’s jotting down a list on a scrap of paper of things he’s got to do immediately.

Cleaning crew. Call insurance guy. New computers. More phones. Hit team. The last entry in the list, Call Luthor, is the second thing he’ll actually handle, right after he gets his specialty cleaning crew to handle the bodies and get them to the funeral home on the quiet. He doesn’t want to involve the police in any of this. Too many explanations.

It’s going to be a busy couple of days.


* * *


“Mr. Lupenzo, I appreciate your taking the time to inform me of the results of our little experiment,” Lex Luthor says from the comfort of his high-backed executive chair at his command console. “That’s a bit disappointing but not completely unexpected.”

“Yeah well, I’m sorry, Mr. Luthor. The bitch looked like she was going to suck my dick but at the last moment she got strong enough to resist that lipstick somehow. It was close, she was all dreamy-eyed and dopey-acting but when I mentioned your name, her spine stiffened and she said she wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

“I see,” Luthor says, pondering the information.

“The kryptonite worked just like you said though, sir. Big enough to let the crack do its job and small enough not to make her violently sick. She did get green when we left it on for about three and a half hours. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for your help and advice.”

“My pleasure, Don Lupenzo. And where is the little minx now?”

“Er, she’s not with us anymore. Tony Bonano’s got her back.”

“Really?” Lex smiles. The old fool had somehow let the Cunt from Krypton get away or get taken away from him. Such incompetence made him impatient. Luthor cuts the call off quickly. “Well, call me if you need any more consultation. Goodbye.”

Luthor shakes his head with a touch of anger. He would have offered quite a lot of money to take the blonde off of Gino’s hands. He knows Tony won’t give her up, but the old fool might have been swayed. Frowning, Lex looks at the monitor showing a close-up of Superman’s face as he lies helplessly in the kryptonite slime tub. The big guy looked bad. Even with the regular extractions from the tub, the long term effect on Superman was obviously undermining his health. His eyes are deep hollows and his breathing is rough and uneven. Even with longer times out of the deadly green glop, the famous Man of Steel was a pathetic mess.

Yesterday, the famous champion from the stars had actually soiled himself right as he was being hoisted by crane over to his dinner table. The sudden stinking bulge in those red costume shorts and the draining dark liquid splattering on the cement floor three feet below was a shocking surprise to Lex. He’d had to re-figure the equations for the slime immersion/extraction process. It was apparently an unstable situation that he’d need to track closely. He didn’t want the big fella’ dying on him. There were so many more things to try with the dumb slab of beef.

Two hours later, at the start of a brisk Iowan evening, Roxie is back at Lex’s fortress at his beck and call, ready to do what she loves to do best: get guys off. But this isn’t just any guy. It’s Superman and that is always plenty of fun for her.

Dressed in a close-fitting gold spandex tube top and skin-tight black vinyl hotpants that show off her large bobbing breasts and flawlessly shaped ass, Roxie walks up to the big stud who’s been strapped to a large steel X-frame bondage rack. From both sides of the X-frame, an array of blazing yellow heat lamps shines directly at Superman’s tightly shackled body. For now he is wearing his blue and red uniform but Roxie has directions to peel down his shorts and tights and pull up his shirt so she can squeegee as much of Superman’s sweat off his glistening body as she possibly can. The fact that Lexie needs Superman’s sweat is gross and stupid but she’s getting another bag of diamonds for her work tonight so she could care less if he drinks the stuff. She’s going to be able to put money down on her own luxury condo in the middle of Debuque. And if that’s not the high life, she doesn’t know what is. Which is true.

Slinking up beside the strapping male physique bound with arms and legs spread wide, Roxie whispers in Superman’s ear.

“Hi, lover. Did you miss me?”

“No,” The blue eyed champion turns his head and stares at the whore with a mix of cold anger and remembered shame. She’d jerked him off to perfection the last time she was here and he expected no less from her again. And he felt even weaker now than at the previous time.

“Now be nice, stud muffin. I only want to give you a good time,” Roxie leans close so her silky spandex-clad tits brush up against Superman’s famous insignia even as she drags her fingernails lightly up and down the length of the penis pouched in his costume shorts. “And I know you like a good time. See, you’re proving it to me already.”

Indeed, Superman’s penis grows rapidly in his shorts as the fingernails dance and tickle along the length of the fast-swelling rod. The Man of Steel hangs his head, not wanting the blonde whore to see the helpless pleasure in his face. Leaning down, Roxie breathes heavily on the bulge in the Kryptonian’s pants, then cups his balls and gives his firm shaft a firm shake.

Looking up at Superman’s face, Roxie winks at the hero who’s face is grimacing, the tendons in his neck stretched tight. “Just relax, Supie and let little Roxie handle....What the fuck?”

A dark wet spot suddenly spreads all over the front of Superman’s red costume shorts.

“GHUNHH!” The famous Man of Steel has prematurely ejaculated into his underpants in less than thirty seconds of sexual arousal.

Over the loudspeaker comes a deep guttural laugh from Lex Luthor even as Roxie calls out in fear.

“I’m sorry Lexie! I didn’t mean to do that. He just got too excited out a’ nowhere.” She’s afraid of losing her night’s pay.

“It’s not your fault, Roxie,” Luthor’s chuckle is long and humiliating as the Last Son of Krypton hangs helplessly on the X-frame and feels the thick wet stickiness in his shorts spread across the front of his crotch. “After all,” Lex says, “Superman can’t help it if he blows his wad like a virgin schoolboy. He’s really not much of a man anymore. We’ll just have to give noodle dick a few minutes to compose himself so we can start again. Just scrape out his jism there into the sample dish there and stick that pacifier in his mouth, the big baby.”

Roxie does as she’s told, pulling open his costume shorts, reaching in and scooping the jism off his dick with a smooth warm hand. This extra stimulation causes an extra fat surge of white gluey semen spreading over the girl’s fist. She scrapes the pasty cum into a small petrie dish and then takes an oversized pacifier resting beside the dish. Had Luthor expected this result. In any case he was prepared. When Roxie grasps Superman’s face and squeezes down on his jaw with her hard fingernails, he helpless opens his mouth in pain and the large bulbous end of the huge oversized pacifier is thrust into his mouth. Like a ball gag, it is kept in place by his teeth, the fluted baby blue ring blocking Superman’s face and humiliating him to the core as a rapid-fire series of flash pictures captures his endless shame for the Internet.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Wow Kara was certainly put through the ringer these past 2 chapters. If she wasn't already fully broken before, this latest brutal ordeal will have certainly done the job or at the very least pushed her further down that murky road both mentally and physically. Interesting interactions between Diana and Sergei considering what he has put her through and once the rescue is done will go back to doing to her. Small bonding moment with her seeming to momentarily regard him as a somewhat comrade, at least in the knowledge that he will visit some punishment on the ones who hurt Kara and him showing a bit of pride and maybe even concern for her. Don't really expect it too last after they get back to the dome though lol. More like a momentary heat of the moment kind of thing.

And more humiliation being heaped on Superman courtesy of Lex and Roxie. Being exposed for so long to all that Kryptonite and Luthors various forms of torture with no end in site is certainly doing a number on poor Kal.
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DrDominator9
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Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Wet Work
Part 61




The elevator doors to the penthouse suite in the Pleasure Dome slide open and Wonder Woman walks out backwards. She is carrying Supergirl with a firm grip on her wrists as Sergei follows her out, holding the blonde beauty’s limp dangling legs by the backs of her knees. They rapidly carry the moaning superheroine over to the couch and lay her down on the soft cushions that huff loudly as if in protest as she settles into a gentle encompassing valley of cool leather.

Tony strides rapidly over to the bar and reaches into the middle of three drawers and pulls out a syringe. Quickly he fills it with the contents of a small brown bottle and then walks over to the couch and kneels down beside the groaning teenager. Her eyes are shut and her lips are fluttering as she breathes roughly through them.

“I had this special serum made up for emergencies. It’s a mix of vitamins, amphetamines, and painkillers. It should revive her and ease any pain she’s feeling. It’ll help her body fight the shock she’s experiencing”

“....nuh...more....pleeze....” The Maid of Might softly whimpers.

When the group had pulled into the Pleasure Dome’s garage, Supergirl wasn’t even close to being able to walk. In fact, she could barely be roused awake. As Wonder Woman and Sergei lifted her sagging body out of the Escalade, Tony sent off the three young mafia lads with his heartfelt thanks and promises of extra work and extra pay for their help in the afternoon’s rescue efforts. Carmine, who had greeted them all in the garage when they arrived, gave his stepson Ricco a surprising kiss on his head and a palm stroke of his face before bidding the boy goodbye. He barely made it back to the elevator before the doors thumped shut.

Now Sergei, Wonder Woman and Carmine stand in a circle looking down at the famous Maid of Steel, their faces taut with worry.

“Her color is better at least,” says Tony as he puts the needle against her inner elbow and prepares to inject her.

“Hey,” blurts Carmine, “shouldn’t you swab her with alcohol or something so she don’t get infected?”

“Infection’s the least of her worries,” Tony replies calmly. “Damn it! The needle broke. I can’t inject her. She’s gotten her invulnerability back.”

“If that’s the case, she may be in the clear already,” Diana says hopefully, looking down at her friend with deep concern.

“And she is not to be breathing as badly as before,” adds Sergei. “There is no whistle in it now. Less wheezing.”

“Kara’s a fighter. She’ll pull through this,” Wonder Woman says, stepping forward and kneeling by the couch after Tony stands up and backs off. Diana takes Kara’s hand in one of her own as she strokes it slowly with her other.

“You guys gonna tell me what the fuck happened over there?” Carmine is asking this for the third time since he’d met them in the garage. No one had answered him during the rush to get her upstairs. Everyone was tense and staring at Supergirl’s gaunt face and trembling body with deep anxiety as the elevator seemed to take forever to reach the fourth floor. Tony had merely waved Carmine off when he’d asked what had gone on.

Even now, as Carmine looks down at the teenage champion nestled in the couch, he can’t believe it’s even the same person who flew off so determinedly that very morning to attack Don Lupenzo’s headquarters. She was a vision of confidence and beauty then in her famous red and blue uniform. Her long lean legs propelled her upward into the air like some gorgeous tropical bird taking flight. That lucky glimpse of her beautiful ass under her flapping skirt was a bonus as the famous heroine turned away and gained speed and altitude.

But the blonde lying here before him is a mess. Her costume is stiff everywhere with dried crusty white cum. Her cheeks are pale white with the merest hint of green in the hollows under her eyes and between the fingers splayed across her slowly rising and falling stomach. He’d never seen the girl look so beat down before, even during all her early training. If she looks better to these people, Carmine can’t imagine what she looked like when they found her.

“Supergirl had been abused by Gino and at least four of his men,” Tony finally answers Carmine. “When we found her she was bright green and nearly comatose. We walked into Gino’s office and there were four huge goons lying around the room, sleeping, if you can believe it. Supergirl had been cuffed to a leg spreader bar. I can only imagine what she was subjected to. She’s still leaking their stinking jism out of her crotch.”

“Did you kill Gino?” Carmine’s eyebrows are peaked as he looks at Tony with trepidation. Killing Gino would have major consequences with the families. Not many of them good.

“Gino wasn’t even there.” Tony is frowning. “I don’t know where he was. We searched the place but we were moving fast. Could’ve missed him. I didn’t go upstairs. Wonder Woman did but she didn’t see him before she ran into her own trouble.”

“Trouble?” Carmine looks at Tony.

“I’ll fill you in on everything later, Carm.” Tony looks down at his blonde prize with deep worry. Carmine sees a bond there that probably isn’t healthy for any of them.

“Kara. Wake up, sweetie. It’s Diana. Come on, Kara, open your eyes.”

“....yes...i...will....suck that....fur you..” the blonde cries softly, “...just don’t...hurt me...again...” The slurred, terrified words drop out of the delirious teen’s mouth like fat beads from a broken necklace. Wonder Woman’s quiet squeak of pity and horror at her friend’s condition and what she must have been forced to do draws worried glances between Sergei and Tony. The Amazon is starting to shake very badly herself. The symptoms of heroin addiction have been manifesting more and more since they first loaded Supergirl into the Escalade back in midtown Manhattan.

“I can’t give Supergirl a shot,” Tony says from behind the kneeling brunette, “but I can give you one if you’d like Wonder Woman.”

“I don’t need any of your special serum right now,” She replies brusquely.

“I wasn’t talking about that. I can hook you up with some heroin to ease you out a little.”

“While my friend is lying here near death, you would suggest this!” Diana snaps her head around and gives Tony a cold stare. “Don’t you care about her at all? Or are you too concerned with keeping your property in line?”

“I care about both of you, believe it or not, Princess!” Tony growls back. “You look like you need the stuff. I offered. No judgements. No sinister plan.”

“...fighting...’bout me...?” The blonde champion’s murmurs from the depths of the couch.

Wonder Woman snaps her head back around to see Supergirl’s blue irises staring back at her with true awareness since they had first seen her in laid out on the floor in Don Lupenzo’s office. She is obviously strained and tired but that’s Kara’s personality coming through at her.

“Kara, you’re back!” Wonder Woman bends her head and kisses Supergirl’s forehead and holds that kiss as a series of salty tears drain down her face onto the blonde’s cheeks. “You’re all right!”

“...that’s....up for....debate...I am...awake...at least....” Supergirl’s attempt at a smile turns into a wince as a number of pains bark at her from her strained thighs to her beleaguered vagina and ass to her angry stomach. “But...I feel...like 200 miles of bad road...”

“What can we be getting for you, davooshka?”

“A month’s vacation in Kandor would be a start.”

“I am not to be knowing this place. Is it near here?”

“Not even close, blondie,” Kara smiles. “Uhhh, Di, you’re drowning me here. And could you stop squeezing my head?” The joyously weeping Wonder Woman finally releases her crushing headlock on Kara and backs off a bit, her face a twisted grin of embarrassment and delight, her cheeks wet with happiness.

“I’m sorry, Kara. I just thought we’d lost you,” Wonder Woman kisses the back of Supergirl’s hand and pours love from her red-rimmed blue eyes into the blonde’s own blue ones.

“Hey, I’m tougher than I look,” Supergirl says with a pained smile..

“That’s for sure,” Tony jokes from three feet away. “I’m glad I don’t have to pay for the repairs on Don Lupenzo’s headquarters. Probably have to knock the whole thing down and start from the foundation up. You sure put a hurt on his operation, young lady.”

“Yeah, well, he paid me back in spades. He and his men. But I guess I deserved it.”

Everybody freezes at this comment. Wonder Woman’s mouth is actually agape with shock. Tony, Carmine and Sergei exchange puzzled looks.

“Deserved it?” Diana is aghast at the very thought. “Why on earth would you think that, Kara?”

Suddenly realizing she probably said too much, Supergirl tosses her head so her hair swirls in a circle around her face, hiding her expression. “Oh, nothing. I’m just, you know, tired. I could use a little quiet time and shower, definitely a shower. And a nap in the bedroom, I think. If that’s okay with you, Tony?” Kara looks up at Bonano with bright eyes filled with imploring youth.

“Uh, sure. Whatever you need, Supergirl.”

“Thank you, Tony. Diana, why don’t you join me. You look pretty beat, too.”

“Well I, uh, am a bit tired.”

“Great.”. Kara sits up and starts to stand when Carmine reaches his hand down and helps her up.

“Why thank you, Mr. Vega. Always the gentleman. It’s nice to be back among....friends... again.”

“Ditto, Supergirl,” Carmine says with a warm smile.

“Come on, Di,” Supergirl says, taking Wonder Woman’s hand and pulling her toward the hallway that leads to the sleeping quarters. Halfway to the bathroom, Kara half turns her head and calls out, “And Mr. Bonano, please send Sergei in with hits of your finest crack and heroin for me and my friend.”

Tony is the one who looks shocked now as he and Sergei share wide-eyed amazed stares with each other. Carmine simply stands alone looking down the hallway at the two beautiful retreating figures.

“What the fuck happened to her over there at Gino’s?” Carmine asks the question but neither of his associates can give him an answer.



* * *



Dressed in a tight-fitting gold spandex tube top that barely contains the ample curves of her bobbing breasts, Roxie moves in close to the sagging Man of Steel. He hangs helplessly on the metal X-frame, his head drooping on his chest, his breathing labored through the small gap between his lips and the oversized baby blue pacifier jammed into his mouth. Roxie’s hard nipples poke through the stretchy fabric in a way that advertises sex with the showy eagerness of political buttons.

Over 20 minutes has elapsed since Superman’s humiliating premature ejaculation. During that time, the blonde hussy quietly talked with Lex in the control room about the varied techniques she planned to use on the tall muscled man. Now the bottle blonde is back in the main room and ready to start the process anew of milking Superman of his cum and his sweat. Six bright heat lamps, three on either side of the blue-and-red clad captive, snap on, startling a weak and dazed Superman momentarily and throwing shimmering waves of heated air at him.

Roxie sidles up close to the dark-haired hero securely cuffed with titanium manacles. She efficiently removes the humiliating oversized pacifier from his mouth. Not only had Lex Luthor emailed the flash pictures of Superman strapped to an X-frame with the ridiculous wavy-ringed pacifier to the news desks of every major media outlet around the world, but the criminal genius also sent out a viral mini-video of the famous Man of Steel prematurely cumming in his shorts and then having the infantalizing pacifier crammed in his mouth. That three-minute video had circulated through the Internet via a YouTube video. It garnered 285,000 hits in 16 minutes. The famous Kryptonian hero’s lofty reputation had taken the nastiest hit since his capture at Bryant Park months and months ago.

Pulling up on his chin, the buxom whore firmly presses her soft lips against Superman’s pouting mouth as she presses her curvy figure against his slouching physique. After half a minute of her tongue overwhelming the dizzy hero’s own tongue with twisting dominating maneuvers, Roxie finally breaks the kiss off and softly murmurs into the champion’s ear, “Is the pitiful overeager spunk-sprayer ready for another attempt at being a real man?”

The dull-eyed champion answers her in a raspy whisper, “It’s hard to get excited when your breath smells like low tide, bitch.” If he makes her mad, maybe she’ll lose her concentration or do something stupid or just not care about getting him off again.

“By my reckoning, getting you excited is way too easy for anybody with a pussy and about 70 seconds of free time, you dumb crotch-staining cum-puddler. Here, let me demonstrate.”


Roxie lightly drags her fingernails up and down the length of Superman’s pouched bulge in the front of his famous red shorts and in less than fourteen seconds, the Man of Steel has nearly a foot of hard wood in his pants and a sulky frown on his face. Roxie turns around and rubs the cleft of her ass up and down against the massive hard-on. Her slick, skin-tight black vinyl hot pants create a warm friction that draws a low moan from the helplessly aroused Man of Steel.

Turning her head around, Roxie flashes a waxy, superior smile at the blue-eyed hero, her eyes showing triumph. Superman tries to keep his gaze on her, acting as if her movements don’t affect him but she continues to rub her ass in slow sultry strokes against his hard muscle until he looks down in mortified disgrace. He’s hard as a steel rivet and already close again to reaching an orgasm. He has no stamina of any kind: sexual, mental or physical after all the kryptonite-based captivity, experiments and tortures that Lex Luthor has put him through.

“See what I mean, you pathetic excuse for a hero,” Roxie purrs as she turns back around and gently, slowly and sensually caresses her palms across the junk in his trunks. “You’re already rock hard and ready to gush after less than 30 seconds, Superman. I think we both know just how pathetic your charade at male bravado is, don’t we? ”

“..get your hands...off me...you....sleazy....whore...” Superman growls as his forehead begins to drip with sweat from the heat lamps glowing a bright orange a mere four feet away.

“What’s the matter, are you getting a little overheated, stud?” Roxie asks as she slowly pulls the tightly tucked costume shirt out of Superman’s trunks and pulls it up to reveal his abdominal muscles slick with a sheen of sweat. His armpits are equally damp with dark rings of sweat spreading through his costume.

Roxie lets her fingertips trace over the soft ridges of his six pack, still impressively defined even with all the torment the mighty hero has endured. Her fingers leave an empty trail through the beads of sweat clinging to Superman’s abs.

“Well, if my breath is so bad, let’s see if it bothers your cock, big guy.” The bleached blonde undoes Superman’s belt with quick, eager hands and pushes the waistband of his trunks down just enough so that the bulging mushroom tip of his penis pokes up out of his shorts. Leaning in, Roxie blows a soft stream of warm breath over the tip of Superman’s cock. The mighty muscle shifts in his trunks slightly, the head extending up a bit more. Superman’s head turns up, his eyes looking off into the distance as he grimaces and moans slightly with helpless pleasure.

“...errrrrgghhh....”

“Your penis doesn’t seem to mind my breath at all, Supie baby. But maybe my mouth isn’t close enough. Let’s try this.” Roxie puts her lips directly against the top of the Man of Steel’s cock and slowly begins to encompass the tip with her lips until the whole large cap is hidden within her mouth. Then she gradually pulls back, leaving the head glistening with her carefully drizzled drool.

“...ohhh..ohhh....uuhhhhhhhh....” Superman clenches his eyes tight and tries to fight the arousal. For now, he succeeds, pushing down the wave of spontaneous joy creeping up from his groin.

“Nope. Your super schlong doesn’t seem to mind my breath in the least, Superman. Guess you were wrong about that.” Roxie’s hand takes a firm grasp of the throbbing pole through the fabric of Superman’s trunks and squeezes lightly along his full length, hardening him up even more so the head of his cock pokes further out of his trunks like a prairie dog checking the weather. She moves her palm up and down in rapid breath-quickening strokes until her hand slides between his thighs and Roxie grabs his nuts from outside the hero’s trunks. She cups his nads and gently fondles them as she smiles up into his now drooping face.

“...guuuhhhh.....don’t....” he moans.

“You’re so fucking easy,” she chuckles, massaging him more and more. He moans ecstatically from her hand work. Then she clamps down hard.

“EEYAAGHH!!” The groggy champion yelps in sudden pain from her sudden violent crushing of his balls. He strains against the manacles, jerking them with his wrists with all his strength but Superman is far too weak to even flex the titanium one little bit. Rivulets of sweat run down Superman’s face and his abs. His teeth are clenched as a wave of nausea sweeps through him from Roxie’s ball-busting squeeze.

“We don’t want you getting overly excited again, you faggot jizz-pumper, do we. Not before we get what we need, beefy boy!”

“...ow...ow..ow...ow....” Superman whimpers as he tries to recover his breath, his pride and his manhood. He fails miserably as he whines in a falsetto. “...it...hurts....”

Roxie reaches over to the tray beside the X-frame and picks up a thin square of blue and red cotton imprinted with the famed “S” logo on it. “Yeah, well, suck it up hero. We’ve got more work to do here. Look, see, Superman, you’ve got your own special wash cloth, with your famous emblem on it.”

Roxie sees that the dark-haired heroes eyes are drifting lazily from the pain. She slaps his face hard and he looks dully at her, his eyes tired and glazed. “Hey! Focus douche-wad. Lex went to all the trouble to make this wash cloth especially for you, just to soak up all that sweat pouring off you from those damn heat lamps. Why don’t you say thank you to the man.”

Roxie waits but Superman says nothing, just tries to gather himself. So the trollop puts her hands over the once mighty champion’s balls again and squeezes them just enough to make her point.

“Say it, douche bag. Say ‘Thank you, Lex, for making me my own special washcloth to soak up my special super sweat.’”

Still nothing from the rawly panting Superman.

“Say it NOW, beeatch!” Roxie applies even firmer pressure on the hero’s ball sack and the Man of Steel relents.

Choking with shame, Superman complies haltingly. “...thank you... Lex.... for making..a special....washcloth to soak up....my....super...sweat...’

“That’s a good boy.” Roxie gently pats Superman’s nads like he’s some kind of pet and then picks up the washcloth and swabs his face and stomach with it. She then wrings the cloth out over a large bowl, filling the bottom surface with pale greenish liquid. Superman has been subjected to so much kryptonite over so long that his pores now exude the deadly element in trace amounts. The Last Son of Krypton has been out of the slime tub now for over 35 minutes and he still is weak and helpless from the constant barrage of radiation he’s been forced to endure since Lex first brought him to his headquarters. Lex figures at this point he’s good for an hour before his strength begins to be close to an issue. He’s got a timer set on his control board so he doesn’t forget. Watching on the monitor from the control room and checking the recording equipment, Lex couldn’t be more thrilled with how Roxie is handling herself and the big dumb lummox.

Roxie rolls up Superman’s shirt higher and higher until it forms a ring around his upper chest armpit to armpit.

“Boy those lamps sure are throwing out a lot of heat, aren’t they, guy? You as hot as I am?”

Roxie’s own costume is drenched with her perspiration, the tube top showing her breasts more clearly than ever with large sweat stains below and around her tits. Her face shines with her own moisture. Superman just stares at the floor saying nothing.

“Oh, what’s the matter, guy. Feeling blue? No more snappy chatter from the super hero?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Me?” Roxie’s eyebrows go up at this ridiculous question. “For money, shithead. And, frankly, ‘cause I like fuckin’ over goody two-boots like you who think they’re better than everyone. But when it comes down to your pecker, Superman, you’re no different than the lonely businessman who pays me to fuck him in some hotel room because his wife doesn’t get him hard anymore. You’re like all men. Driven by what their cocks need and let the world be damned. Even you can’t stop yourself from getting hard, stupid and sleepy once a woman gets her hands on you. Your equipment may be bigger but it works the same way as any other man’s and that’s why I can lead you around like fuckin’ pony ride, Superman. That answer your question, dimwit?”

“Who made you so angry....at men?”

“Pricks like you did, Superman. People who think the world owes them gratitude just for gracing us with their presence. You know what I’m grateful for, Superman? The size of your cock. That’s all. Nothing else. Not your mind. Not your heroism. Not your goodness. Just the size of your 13-inch cock and the nice expanse of your sweaty chest to rub against. Let’s get to it, super rod!”

Roxie reaches over to Superman’s waist and pulls down his trunks and tights until they can go no lower. They stretch between his spread legs, tight around his thighs. His penis, shocked by the abuse to his nuts, now sags between his legs like a dead chicken. But Roxie knows how to fix that. She’s been doing it for six years now. She’s a pro. She takes Superman in her palm and begins to pulse her hand slowly until the large muscle begins to expand. Leaning in, she takes the growing rod into her mouth drools on it, then uses her pink flat tongue to slather the wetness all over the glistening head of Superman’s penis. She licks him like an ice cream cone in every possible direction until the Rod of Steel is back to its proper attitude, flag pole straight and pointing to the heavens.

“See there,” Roxie says as she pulls her head back. “Just like Old Faithful and ready to spew.”

“...ohhhh.....” Back to the sexual tension he can’t withstand, Superman groans with pleasure yet again. His dick is in this bitch’s total command. Why is Lex doing this? Why does he need my semen and my sweat? Why this humiliating torture?

“...why...is...Lex..doing this..?..”

“Like I fucking care!” Roxie wraps her palm around his shaft and wiggles her tongue against the penis tip. The rod jerks in her hand like a live snake. “I’d say you’re ready.”

Reaching over to the tray once more, Roxie picks up a small foil condom packet and tears it open. She pulls out the condom, positions it on the head of Superman’s cock and unrolls it down the long length of his pecker as she holds his cock still with her other hand. Even constrained, Superman’s prick bolts and shakes in Roxie’s fist.

“We don’t want to lose any of your super syrup there, boy scout,” Roxie smiles as she steps onto a step stool. “Now let old Roxie mount this pole of yours and have herself a ride, eh?” The bleached blonde unbuttons the fly on her black vinyl hot pants and spreads the fabric apart. With no underwear on, it’s obvious that Roxie is actually a brunette. She twiddles herself a bit but she’s already pretty wet from all the foreplay with the stud of steel. Her pussy shines with a combination of her own lubrication and her sweat.

Slowly, the leering whore carefully guides her body onto the angled muscle stretched out before her. She puts both palms over Superman’s shoulders and lowers herself inch by delightful inch onto his trusty sword. At seven inches, she has to take a break. She leans her head forward and kisses Superman on the neck, tasting the salty sweat there. Apparently she has found an erogenous spot on the Man of Steel who’s neck tightens up as he cringes with sudden pleasure and moans loudly. His penis jerks within Roxie and she savors this for five seconds before she resumes impaling her wet cunny onto the endlessly satisfying pole.

“Super size me, you gorgeous stud muffin!” She lowers another few inches and then, with a quick squeeze of her own nipples and then Superman’s Roxie finally reaches maximum penetration, her twat is completely plugged by the thrumming, wonderfully veined muscle and the buxom whore settles her body against Superman’s splayed physique and sighs contentedly.

“Tooooo gooood,” she moans, enjoying the feel of this giant member filling her orifice to full capacity. Every inch of her tunnel throbs with the heat of him. Her back feels like it’s getting burnt from the heat lamps though and Roxie calls out, “Lex, the lamps are toasting me, dammit. Take them down a notch, would ya’ please!”

“Sorry Roxie.” Lex twists a dial and Roxie immediately feels the singeing heat lower. She’s still sweating heavily but she feels better as she begins to gyrate her body against Superman’s hard physique. She glistens in the light, with her long slick legs, tight vinyl over a gorgeous bubble butt and a shining tube of sweat-drenched gold latex wrapped around her jiggling tits. And all this sexual pleasure is clinging to Superman’s body, moving against it, sweaty slick flesh against flesh. And flesh within flesh, clinging to every inch of him, absorbing his essence, gyrating around him like some insatiable succubus of pleasure.

“....ohhhhh.....stop....” he pleads helplessly.

“Don’t think so, beefcake,” Roxie replies with a purr as she begins to rock against him, her hands holding behind his neck as she pulls her vagina along his length. Drawing herself away and filling his head with waves of pleasure as she clutches her pussy and squeezes him while pulling back.

“..whuuh..huhhhh....ohhhhh...” Superman stutters helplessly with the erotic pleasure he feels.

“Yeehahhhh,” she squeals in delight as she pulls back until just the tip of his cock stutters in the entryway of her pussy. “That’s the cock I wanted!”

And gripping his neck tighter, Roxie pulls herself back onto the hard rod until its buried deep within her once again. She savors this for a few seconds and then begins to pull and push herself against Superman’s cock with quick steady thrusts.

“WHUNHHH....OHHHH....OHHHHH!” Superman gasps with delight, his eyes rolling back under his lids as a sudden sensual wave crests through him. Not an orgasm. Not yet but the tension is there. It’s close.

After 30 seconds of rocking sex, Roxie stops all movement to let herself and Superman catch a respite. She creates a foot of separation between her body and his, except for their connected groins. Reaching behind her, Roxie leans back and grabs the wash cloth. She turns back and wipes Superman’s face and chest with it. He’s pouring with sweat from the lamps and the exertion and the sex. It takes three full rounds of swabbing to get all the moisture off his face and chest. The bowl is already one fifth full, about a cups worth.

“...this....is...wrong...” moans the bound hero, his eyes pleading. “...don’t...do...it...”

“Feels right to me, Super Cock. Feels just perfect in fact.”

“...isn’t...right....”

“Don’t tell me it doesn’t feel great to you too, motherfucker. ‘Cause I know it does. You wouldn’t be sticking out like a steel girder unless it felt great to you, too, stud. So shut the fuck up and let a girl get her fun on, dick wad!”

Roxie starts up again, thrusting her hips against Superman’s pelvis with hard repetitive strokes now, engulfing his cock over and over with the velvety tunnel of her pussy. Sliding it over the length of him. Back and forth, over and over, up and down, in and out until she and Superman are panting like two forest beasts. Roxie is leaning back now, swinging her head back and forth, her blonde hair whipping arcs of sweat across the floor. Superman’s face is a frozen grimace of defenseless pleasure as his penis is stroked and stroked and stroked again by this wanton tigress’ vagina until he cannot hold back his pleasure one second longer.

“UUNNGGHH....OHHHHHHHHHHH!” Superman cums violently, his semen jetting into the condom with a force that fills the elastic tip like a water balloon sealed against a garden hose. This expanding bladder within Roxie pushes her past her limits as well and she cums with her palms squeezing Superman’s forearms like the restraining bar on a roller coaster.

“AAIEEEEYAHHHHH!” Her body does a St. Vitus dance against his and she collapses against his sweaty chest with blind, absolute pleasure.

Superman’s penis bobs and jerks within Roxie’s as he stutteringly releases his seed into the condom until the sputtering tools finally stops. And together, the pair of fully satisfied beings drift in the haze of their pleasure for a good minute. Finally Roxie stirs and pulls herself off Superman’s deflating cock.. Carefully, she holds the open end of the condom tight against the base of the cock to prevent leakage as she extracts herself fully from Superman’s prick. It takes a bit of doing since the condom tip is about three inches around, filled with creamy white super spunk. Carefully placing the bowl under Superman’s cock, Roxie releases the open end and lets a stream of the spunk drain into the bowl. As Superman’s cock softens slowly, the whore works the rubber sleeve very carefully off the drooping penis. Once that’s done, she empties the large measure of remaining semen into the bowl and carries it over to a stable counter. She then returns and swabs down the Man of Steel once again. His sweat from the wrung out washcloth fills the bowl half way.

“Good work, my dear.” Lex’s voice commends her over the ceiling speaker. “You drained him dry, I think.”

“Me, too, Lexie. God I need a shower.”

“I would think so. You know where it is Roxie. When you’re done, you also know where I leave the bag of diamonds. I’ll call you if I need you again. But that might not be for a while.”

“You know my number, Lex. And thanks for thinking of me.”

“You’re my number one girl, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Lexie. Bye bye. And bye bye to you too, stud muffin,” Roxie says, palming Superman’s cheek. The exhausted hero is fast asleep. He can’t even hear the whining of the overhead crane as it moves forward to begin the retrieval process that will end him back in the slime tub.

Lex hums “Highway to Hell” as he presses the button to make a backup copy of the DVD recording of the humiliating session of Superman’s major fuckover.
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DrDominator9
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I am taking a two-week vacation so people will have plenty of time to catch up on their reading in this series.

In the meantime, let me just wish everone Happy Holidays and a Terrific New Year. See you in 2017.

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Feeling It
Part 62



Sitting at the head of the bed in their suite in the Pleasure Dome, Supergirl looks across at Diana who is sitting at the foot and shaking like a leaf. Although she was dressed in her full Wonder Woman costume, the Amazon warrior looked nothing like a mighty heroine. Her mascara is dripping down her cheeks in black streaks, her complexion is pale and greasy with sweat. Her eyes are twitching with a nervous tic and her stomach distress is giving her such nasty gas that she inadvertantly releases a windy fart that has Kara wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Diana’s trembling body and hunched shoulders announce a desperate need for heroin that will not be denied. Even with all she had been through, Supergirl still looks better than Wonder Woman. And both women need a shower or a good long soak in a tub to get the stench of sex, failure and desperation off of them.

“You look like crap, Diana. How do you feel?”

The raven-haired beauty wraps her arms around her belly and bows forward with a groan as a spasm of withdrawal tears at her guts.

“Not so bad,” she lies.

“Bullshit, Di! You need your heroin and I want a bowl of crack more than you can imagine. Well, just as much as you can imagine. So just hold on for a couple of more minutes. I’m sure Sergei will be in here with it in shortly.”

“...i..shouldn’t...”

“Right!”

“...nor...should...you...Oww!....”

“Oh, please! Give the big brave heroine routine a break, Diana. Really!”

“...it’s what.... we are, Kara. Or...have you...forgotten?”

“Oh, grow up and face facts, Di. We’re both junkies. You’re a heroin addict. I’m a crack addict. Tony did this to us. It’s not our fault but we have to face the truth of what we are. Denying it only makes us stupid as well as addicts. With all we are right now, we’re not stupid.”

“...we....should fight... it...” whimpers Diana, her brow touching the bedspread, her arms still tightly hugging herself.

“Maybe with Methadone and a swell 12-step rehab program for support we’d have a shot, but in our situation? Not very likely, friend.”

“...iz...wrong....”

“Yeah, the situation is fucked up. Big surprise. It’s been that way for months. We agreed we had to bear up and watch each other’s backs. If that means feeding our habits until things get better, I say we give in and just do it. Skip the moralizing crap and give ourselves a break. No one else around here will, right?’

“...but...we’re...heroines...”

“Badly defeated heroines who’ve had the shit kicked out of them time after time after time, in case you haven’t noticed, Princess!” Supergirl’s snapping vehemence brings Diana’s face up from the bedspread. She looks into Kara’s eyes and sees an emptiness there that startles the Amazon, even through her misery.

“...oh ..Kara...we’ll get....out..of here...someday....somehow...”

“Yeah, well, until that time, I’m just going to do what Tony and Sergei tell us and keep my head down and take my crack and make the best of it. I suggest you do the same. Anyway, I’ve earned my place here.”

“...that’s the second time you...uuhh...said you deserved all this. Why....would you say ...Owww....that..?” Diana murmurs softly, her cramps stealing her breath away.

“I haven’t exactly been heroic in case you haven’t noticed.”

“...did all you...could...” whispers Diana, who’s now on her side and curled up in a fetal position trying to lessen the severe cramping from the heroin withdrawal.

“Sure, I did all I could, including blowjobs, fucking anyone who walked in the door, taking penises up my rear. Anything and everything that anyone wanted, well, old Kara just bent over and gave it away. Real heroine.”

“...the pressure....and stress.. It was...AHHH....impossible to resist.”

“But even when I had my powers over at Gino’s place, I couldn’t resist the temptation to smoke a bowl of crack and the repercussions of that choice almost killed me. A superheroine who shows such a shocking lack of willpower is worthless, isn’t she? Isn’t she A WORTHLESS SACK OF SHIT!!!”

Kara’s voice cracks with emotion as she screams at a speechless Diana, who lies on the bed with her face turned up in shock.

“WELL ISN’T SHE, WONDER WOMAN?” Kara glares at Diana with self-hate waiting for the condemnation she knows she so richly deserves.

“Oh Kara, no, honey. NO. You can’t think that! The addiction did that. That’s not you. That has never been you, sweetie.” Diana’s eyes fill with tears at the realization of the pain her friend is in. The psychological battering that Kara is giving herself is beyond any of the external injuries that Tony or Gino or Sergei could ever inflict.

Reaching out with a limp hand, Diana feels Kara’s hand slide into hers. The blonde beauty’s head is bowed as her own tears flow warm across her reddened cheeks. She is filled with shame and anger at herself. There are no words in her, just the raw pain of what she has become.

But Diana has words, soft and quiet.

“I did those things too, Kara. I gave in... faster than you did. I ...oww....let men use me like...ohh...a common whore. But...maybe....we felt...living through it was...a better way...than dying. I’m not sure...if it was hope or...self....preservation...but we’re still here...and that’s reason for....some hope. We’re no....good... OWWW ...to anyone....dead. I know...that....”

“But aren’t there some things worth dying for? Some principles worth upholding? Some line a heroine shouldn’t cross?”

“Yes. Of course. We serve justice....with our bodies...uugghhnnnn...and our minds. When we’re humiliated by evil, we bear it and try to....persevere. Like now. Until an opportunity comes that gives us a way to...succeed.”

“But I had that opportunity and threw it away. I had all my powers and I threw the opportunity away. That makes me a bad heroine!”

Diana’s mouth shifts into a sudden smile before twisting into a hard grimace. “Uuungghh. No, it doesn’t make you a bad heroine....it makes you human.”

“How can you say that? I blew my chance, OUR chance.”

“..it was never a real chance.”

“What do you mean?”
“You knew I was back here while you were at Gino’s. You knew...OHH!....Tony could make me...pay for any tricks you might try. It was....just the...illusion of freedom, Kara.” Diana squeezes the blonde’s hand and whispers a soft

“Thank you...for remembering that.”

Kara moves over, lies down beside her shaking groaning friend and hugs her tightly in her arms for a long silent period of mutual support before rearing back a bit and brushing the slick, stringy black hair away from her face.

“I’ll never forget about your friendship and support Diana. Ever.” Kissing Wonder Woman’s forehead, Supergirl hugs her once more, then yells out loudly.

“SERGEI! WHERE’S OUR DRUGS!”

A weak chuckle burbles out of Diana.

“That’s tellin’ him!”

“Great! So we’re both whores and addicts. In that case, we should do like I said. Give ‘em what they want, take the drugs and wait for a rescue that may or may not ever come. Don’t you think that’s the only way to go, Diana? Don’t you? Especially if you harbor any hope that this hell has an exit.”

“...i....think so...for now...I’m not sure...” Diana replies with a full body shiver. “I...just know I need.....that heroin....bad!”

“And my crack,” Supergirl answers, looking off into space with dead eyes the color of frozen arctic ice.


* * *


“So you flip this switch to listen to the microphone feed. It automatically sends the signal to the recording station of course. And if you see anything happening that looks like a potential scene for our DVD series, take the controls and do the camera pan and zooms like I showed you.”

Carlo Pastore, a young-faced 24-year-old with curly brown hair wearing khaki pants and a navy blue sports jacket over a brightly-colored Hawaiian shirt emblazoned with scarlet macaws peeking through lush green ferns nods his head enthusiastically at Tony’s instructions.

As Stevie’s replacement, he’s thrilled to be trusted with such responsibility. Stevie had recommended him to Tony as a bright, capable video director just a couple of weeks before the young man had gotten gunned down buying blank DVDs by Don Lupenzo’s hit squad. Now Carlo was being trained on the equipment to be the new director on all the DVD series to be released by Heroine in Peril Productions, a subsidiary of The Bonano Group.

The HIPP brand was worth nearly $215 million already and that was before the Wonder Woman series made its debut this morning. Sales were incredibly brisk already, even without any significant advertising at all. The only notice the DVD was even available were new posters in video stores throughout the U.S. that just showed a close-up of Wonder Woman’s famous gold eagle torn in half with a generous amount of cleavage showing and the word’s “She’s not getting out of this one” in a simple line of type underneath that photo. The words “Now Available” were all that were needed to cause a firestorm of Internet traffic around the world. Tony’s HIPP offices in Brooklyn had been deluged for re-orders by 11 am. The company obviously had another hit on its hands. And Wonder Woman’s reputation was swirling down the toilet even faster than ever.

“Thank you for this opportunity again, Mr. Bonano,” Carlo says pumping Tony’s hand like he’s trying to draw water from a dry well.

“Carlo, relax. You can call me Tony. You’re a member of the team. I want you to be on your toes and capture the action and the sound so it’s appealing and clear. I’ve seen your camera work and your editing reel so I know you can do it. So chill and let me know if anything happens. The girls are just commiserating now but you might want to practice a little to familiarize yourself with all the features when they take the drugs that Sergei’s bringing them and especially when they hit the showers. I’ll be in my suite downstairs. If you have any non-technical questions, Sergei can probably help you. He handles the security issues around here. If you ever feel the girls are either working up an escape or are in danger from any of the men who will be with them, let Sergei know immediately. Otherwise, have fun watching and saving the views for posterity. I’ll check in later.”

“Yes sir, Tony, sir.”

“Just Tony. Relax son. You’ve got the job. Now just do what I know you’re capable of and we’ll get along fine.”

“Okay, Tony.”

When Tony leaves, Carlo sits down at the panel in the small control room tucked behind the bedroom and zooms in on the mascara-streaked face of Wonder Woman as she writhed in pain on the bed.

“Fuckin’ Wonder Woman! What a great fucking job this is going to be!” Carlo can’t stop grinning as he plays with the controls and learns the ins and outs of his new toy.


* * *


Both heroines are twisted in pain, shivering and rocking pathetically on the large bed, moaning with severe withdrawal symptoms as Sergei finally knocks and enters the bedroom without waiting for an answer. He sees the distressed state that the two lovely ladies are experiencing and smiles at the opportunity before him.

“Well, ladies. I am here with your crack and your heroin. Only the best for my two best girls, da? Vanilla Pudding for Supergirl. Istanbul Express for Wonder Woman. Your favorites!”

“Why....did you wait....ohhh...so long?” Supergirl asks between moans, her lips trembling now with the need for her crack. Her head rests on the pillow at the head of the bed, her palms caress her stomach to ease the torment.

“...please....shoot me up....Sergei....me first....” Wonder Woman’s right leg dangles off the side of the bed near the foot of the large mattress. Her other leg is tucked up against her chest as the famous Amazon clutches her belly with both arms while her face lies half-buried in the bedspread. “...I need it bad!...”

“But what about what I need, girls?”

“...what...da’ you want?” Supergirl looks up from under her eyebrows with anguish clearly filling her beautiful blue irises.

“I want you to be coming over here and giving me head for your crack, hero. That’s what. First you, then your pathetic whore friend, Wonder Cunt..”

“...kay...” Supergirl agrees without a pause, groaning as she crawls over by the side of the bed where Sergei stands with his legs spread, his palms on his hips and the dope in a small vinyl bag dropping softly to the carpet.

The Maid of Steel licks her lips in preparation as she unzips Sergei’s fly and reaches into the fly of the dark grey briefs to pull out his prick. In her warm palm, the fleshy member goes from limp to firm in just a few seconds and a couple of gentle squeezes. Several firm strokes and a mouthful of drizzled spit later, the Russian mobster is at full attention. Desperate for the crack, Supergirl fervently bobs her head up and down with loud gulping sounds as she takes his cock deep into her throat.

“...ULGK ...ULGK ...ULGK ...ULGK ...ULGK....”

Her blonde hair flaps and swirls around her hidden face as she caresses Sergei’s balls with gentle flying fingers.

“You have turned out to be quite a well-trained whore, Supergirl. I applaud your attitude.”

“...ULGK ...ULGK ...ank ooh.....ULGK.....ULGK ...ULGK....”

“Enough though for now. Let me see how the Champion of All Women has learned her trade.”
Sergei has to push Kara’s bobbing face away from his penis with a hard shove, so eager she is to perform well for her crack.

Diana weakly lifts her head to see Sergei move around to the end of the bed, his flag pole waving in the air overhead. Sergei looks down at her expectantly but his member seems so far away and she’s so tired. Suddenly Kara edges over beside Diana, cradles her head in the crook of her elbow and, with her arm in the small of her back, lifts the suffering Amazon up so her mouth can reach Sergei’s penis. Taking Sergei’s bobbing cock in her fist, Supergirl patiently guides the hard muscle to the full fleshy lips that Diana has pursed before the tip of the bulging cock. She kisses it loudly and then lets her tongue drag over the full mushroom head, warm clear saliva dripping across its surface. Bending forward a bit, with a little extra help from Kara’s arm, Wonder Woman begins sucking on the head of Sergei’s cock, her cheeks drawing in, concaved from a mix of sexual urgency and an addict’s desperation. After that, Diana gives him another full tongue swipe and then Sergei pulls his dick away from her mouth. He is beaming down at her.

“Well, I am knowing you are not at your best, Wonder Whore, so I will cut you some slack as they say. Still I appreciate your willing subservience and am pleased to give you your drugs. What do you say, ladies?”

“....thank you, Sergei, sir,” the two heroines chime in unison.

Inside the control room, a dumbstruck Carlo shakes his head in disbelief at the scene that had just transpired before him. He’d seen their DVDs, of course, but to see it actually happen in front of him was an incredible turn on. Two of the world’s most powerful superheroines just went down on a Russian mobster for drugs. He’s got a boner he could hammer nails with.

“Think nothing of it, my dears. It is my pleasure.” He bends down and hands Supergirl her pipe and a tiny foil-wrapped nugget of crack. He hands Wonder Woman her heroin kit and departs.

While Supergirl drops the white nugget into the blue glass crack pipe, Diana is wrapping her arm with brownish elastic tubing and tying it off with her clenched teeth. She heats up a spoonful of white powder with a cheap red plastic lighter and waits for it to liquify with hungry eyes and licking lips. Finally it’s ready and she draws the magic fluid into the syringe and injects the potent serum into the crook of her arm. Kara has already exhaled a big bluish gray cloud of smoke into the air over her head and is stretched out across the head of the bed at a angle that has her boots draped over the side and her head catty-cornered near the headboard. Supergirl’s slack-jawed expression of drugged incoherence is quickly matched by Wonder Woman’s as the powerful Istanbul Express fills her head with warm erotic waves of cosmic nothingness. Right now, between the two of them, there’s not a worthwhile thought or spark of heroism. Certainly there’s no sense of remorse or shame at their dismal tableau, the two of them flat on their backs with clouds in their eyes and drool on their cheeks. So it goes in the life of an addict.


* * *


“Well, it looks like things are somewhat back to normal,” Tony says, sipping his scotch as Carmine and Sergei settle into their plush armchairs in Tony’s suite on the floor below where the girls are drifting in hazy drugged ambivalence.
“With the girl’s maybe but Gino is certainly not going to let things rest,” Carmine replies. “He’s had people killed in his own headquarters. Think how you’d feel about that, Ton.”

“True.”

“You sent Supergirl to wreck his place. If he’s still alive, which I have no reason to doubt, and he still has a pair of balls, you can expect him to come after you. Or me or any one of our crew. He’s not going to take this lying down. You certainly wouldn’t,” Carmine concludes.

“Well, the Wonder Woman DVD series is taking off like a rocket, if we funnel the profits from those into the general fund, it won’t calm down Gino but it could help isolate him. Wonder Woman’s and Supergirl’s reputations are completely shattered or will be by the end of the week. When the public sees how their Amazon heroine enjoys sex so wantonly, the outcry for her rescue will die down significantly. The families won’t be so annoyed at the higher profile anymore.

“That just leaves Superman,” Sergei chimes in. “And the YouTube of him blowing his nut early and the pacifier in his mouth has helped keep the public and police off our back about him, too.”

“So we keep on our guard for Gino’s hit squads and set the girls up with some johns and maybe everything can settle down, you think?” Tony takes a strong pull of his scotch.

“You really think it’ll be that easy?” Carmine looks Tony straight in the eye.

“No.” Tony looks right back at his second in command. “Of course not. Anyway, are the suits ready?”

“I picked them up today,” Carmine replies. “And the gentlemen have paid their dues and will be here at eight o’clock. That gives the girls three hours to get straight, showered and dressed.”

“Fine. Let them enjoy their down time, then rouse them in an hour to get ready.”

“That’s half a million in one night, nyet?” Sergei says.

“That’s correct, my Russian calculator. 250 Gs per girl for one unforgettable night,” Tony answers. “Make sure they’re on their best behavior, Sergei.”

“Believe me, Tony. They are quite compliant now,” Sergei says with a very wide grin.


* * *


A lethargic Superman wakes up with his neck in the unyielding grip of a titanium collar inset with a polished kryptonite stone the size of a golf ball. His waist is secured in a wide titanium band to a massive steel chair sitting in the middle of a wide open area under an overhead spotlight. The chair is bolted to the floor and the collar is attached to the back of the chair. His calves are held secure to the chair legs as well by titanium. His left hand is secured by yet another band of titanium to the arm of the chair. Surprisingly, his right hand is free. Superman rubs his face with it, trying to clear the grogginess. The kryptonite weakens him but it doesn’t feel like the full natural mineral from his home world. That at least was encouraging.

Lex Luthor stands five feet away with his arms crossed examining Superman the way a cat would eye a wounded mouse lying on the floor before it. The life signs on the monitor in his control panel alerted Lex that the Man of Steel had pulled out of REM sleep and was coming into consciousness so he walked down to see his subject’s condition first hand.

“...what...happened...wha ju do to me....?...”

“We’ve had to forego the slime tub for a couple of days now, Supes, old man. Your recovery rate was just horrible. We pulled you out and your body went into shock even out of the tub. Heart rate spiked then fell like a son of a bitch! You almost died. You’re lucky I was here.”

“...lucky...yeah...”

“But your vitals are much better now. You’re in the clear.”

“Swell.”

“What’s more, you’re now healthy enough for my next experiment.”

“You really are a bastard, Lex. I’ve come across reptiles with more regard for life than you.”

“Hey, you’re hurting my feelings, big guy. Besides, it’s all in the name of science. We must be objective about this.”

“You’re psychotic and a sociopath.”

“And yet I’m a great dancer. Go figure. But enough about me, let’s talk about what gets you aroused.”

“10 consecutive life sentences for you. No time off for good behavior.”

“Nice to see you still have a sense of humor, Superman.”

“Who’s joking?”

“I’ll bet your Amazon girlfriend gets you hot, huh? I saw how you two got along back at Tony Bonano’s place when your pretty cousin and I had that four-way with you and Wonder Woman. You couldn’t help yourself from shooting your jism into her like a fire hose.

“You manipulative S.O.B.!”

“Please, Kal-El. All that praise will make me blush. Anyway, I thought of a fun new way to get some more semen out of you and to test my new aphrodisiac at the same time.”

“You think you’ll ever get help, Lex? I know some top-notch psychiatrists. I’ll pay for it all. The Justice League has a great health plan.”

“Boy, you’re just a chatterbox now that you’re out of the slime tub for a couple of days. I never realized how much it was dampening that winning personality of yours,” Lex says with a chuckle. “Since you have so much energy, this experiment may go better than I thought.”

Walking carefully around Superman’s left side, Lex stands behind the chair and picks uup a pair of visors lying on a table hooked onto the back of the chair. He slips these over Superman’s head and secures them at the back of his head. Superman begins to reach toward his face.

“Touch the visors and a kryptonite laser will burn a hole in your cheek, Superman. You don’t want to test me on that.”

“Why is my right hand free then?”

“Everything will become obvious once the experiment’s started, I assure you, Superman.”

“Having fun, Lex?”

“Loads. But not as much as you’re about to. Did you know that a DVD series has just been released of your Amazon friend? Hot off the shelves just this morning and I do mean hot. It’s a series of sex tapes involving Wonder Woman. She’s doing all sorts of nasty stuff. Hell, our little foursome may even be on this. I haven’t had time to review the play list, being so busy and all finalizing my new aphrodisiac, you know. Anyway, I heard rumors of this series from a couple of sources so I put in a pre-order for it. Double the price but for my needs, well worth it.”

“Diana wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“I doubt she had a lot to say about it. Not if I know Don Bonano. So anyway, Princess Diana, she gets you pretty hot, yeah?”

“I’m a male. You’ve seen her. Do the math.”

“I’m really enjoying this cynical side of yours, Kal, I must say.”

“But we’re friends and what you did to us may be one of the most unforgivable things you’ve arranged in your long list of heinous crimes.”

“So what, you didn’t enjoy boning Wonder Woman? As if!”

“What’s your point, Luthor?”

“I’m giving you the same feeling of that luscious moment you two shared thanks to my new concoction. Now don’t move. And remember the laser is pointed right at your face. And there’s another trained behind you at your spine, so don’t get any stupid ideas.”

Moving around in front of the immobilized Man of Steel, Lex Luthor reaches into his pocket and takes out a small brass tube. It’s a lipstick holder. Uncapping it, the criminal genius grabs Superman by a large hunk of his dark black hair and proceeds to smear the thick orange paste all over Superman’s lips. A nearby video camera records the humiliating scene as the famous hero’s mouth twists and shifts back and forth in helpless alarm as the lipstick is ground into his lips until they are fully coated in a bright orange sheen.

“There we go, Missy! Now you’re pretty as a picture and ready for your big date with your friend Diana. Let’s go to the video, shall we?”

Lex presses a control button on the remote he pulls out of his pocket and Superman rocks back a bit as his vision is filled with a scene of a securely bound Wonder Woman poised on her hands and knees looking into a camera with a haggard look on her face. A tube is inserted into a mouth dildo connected to a clear bag of brown sludge. Behind her, some sort of motorized equipment is stroking a rod back and forth. As the camera moves in, you can see Wonder Woman’s underpants have been pulled down and the rod is thrusting a dildo back and forth into her vagina. At first the look on Diana’s face is one of resigned self-pity. Superman shakes his head in deep sorrow at what his good friend has been subjected to here. This wasn’t Lex’s work but the mob boss Tony Bonano. Another person on his list that would have hard justice served to him when Kal got out of this hellish nightmare.

“Wonder Woman looks like she’s had a hard time there, doesn’t she, Kal-El? But you can’t deny she looks beautiful nevertheless, right?”

“Anybody who would take pleasure at watching a proud woman being this abused.... would be....uhhhhhh....would be....” A sudden wave of dizziness sweeps through Superman’s head, disorienting him and making him forget what he was about to say.

“Would be a pretty normal male reaction in my book, Superman. Take a good look there at Wonder Woman. She’s not really in pain there. That’s clear.”

“...it’s still....wrong....”

“But there, did you see her eyes just then?” Lex states loudly. “They wavered all over the place and her posture there as her elbows buckled showed that she was experiencing incredible pleasure. You saw that right?”

“Yes, but...”

“And look at this. There’s something going into her mouth through the tube. See? Right there. And now, in about ten seconds, you’ll see her head drop down and her whole body shake. She’s really enjoying herself here. You can see for yourself, Superman. She’s in no pain. Far from it. And how are you feeling, Kal?”

“I...I’m feeling...don’t know... a little warm.”

“Mm hmm. I see. Are you feeling bad about Wonder Woman, now that she’s not really in pain. Can you be happy for her pleasure?” Lex looks at the expression on Superman’s face. With the visors on, it’s hard to read but the lip licking tells Lex the aphrodisiac is kicking in. He has to keep Superman focused on the physical and emotional content of the visual a bit longer to engage his own desires. He repeats the question to the disoriented champion.

“Is her pleasure making you glad for her, Kal?”

“I...don’t...I always want Diana to be happy.”

Well that’s good. I’m sure she wants the same for you. Did you notice how prominent her nipples are, Superman?” Lex checks his wrist pad which has a wireless feed from the control board. Superman’s heart rate is elevating nicely. His skin response is through the roof. The guy is officially horny. In his trunks, the lengthening shape of Superman’s penis tells Luthor his new mix on the aphrodisiac is working.

“Boy, I envy you, Superman. You actually had your hard penis inside that beautiful creature. What that must have felt like, huh?”

“...t...tight...” Superman blurts.

“What was that, guy?”

“...she was...tight all around my........rod....”

“I’ll just bet she was. A beauty like that and yet a soft wet pussy so rarely used. It must have been heaven to feel that tightness. Bet you’d love to feel it now.”

“...yes...” Superman agrees, dizzy and confused as he watches the video of Wonder Woman succumbing to her first orgasm under the control of the electric fucking machine. Superman’s breathing increases and his right hand instinctively comes to rest on his lap, his palm squeezing himself, caught up in the sensation of need created by Lex’s devilish serum.

“Well, I have a couple of errands to run. I’ll be back in an hour or so. I’ll keep the feed going if you want. Or I could turn it off. It’s up to you Superman.”

Slowly stroking himself, unaware of his obscene behavior in front of his arch enemy, Superman mumbles, “Leave it on.”

Seven minutes later, after Wonder Woman’s third orgasm, Superman’s rapidly stroking fist inside his costume trunks brings him to his own delight orgasm. He messes himself with a thorough hosing of white pasty jism, the stain showing dark on his trunks, his sticky fist relaxing under the fabric, his eyes going at half mast as he drifts off to a pleasant sleep. The camera has captured it all.


* * *.


Wonder Woman and Supergirl certainly would have agreed to dress themselves in the rubber catsuits they were wearing but Tony wanted to surprise them for their next assignments with their johns. So he gasses them to sleep right after they finished showering. After their cat naps they’d enjoyed from the much-needed drugs, Sergei had woken them up and told them to get ready for their evening’s work.

Kara had just stepped out of the shower while Diana was still toweling off when a plume of thick greenish smoke erupted from the smoke detector in the ceiling. With it’s kryptonite component, the gas easily overtook both women and they collapsed heavily onto the bathroom rug, out for the count.

Now they were just waking up. They were in the living room. Diana was stretched out on the couch and Kara was sprawled in the stuffed armchair. Both women were clad in tight rubber catsuits that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Their gorgeous figures were accented to their fullest by the tight confines of the rubber. Both suits were lightly imprinted as well. Diana’s had her Wonder Woman costume simulated on the rubber sheathing. Pale blue panties with clear stars showed off her dark black pubic hair and even allowed a glimpse of gleaming pink in as much as they had left Diana with one leg stretched over the back of the couch while the other leg slouched against the floor. The red bustier with it’s gold fabric eagle was also simulated in rubber, pale enough to see through yet colored enough to shame the fabulous Amazon when she would look down to see the reminder of her heritage encapsulating her body in stretchy latex. The mighty breasts stretched the rubber to its limits even as they wobbled slightly as Diana shifted in place in her ascent to awareness. The image of her white striped red boots were even imprinted in the rubber stretched tight around her calves and feet. On her head, a fake tiara sat as Wonder Woman struggled back to her senses.

In the stuffed chair, Supergirl’s legs were draped over the arms, showing her crotch to every camera present. Her catsuit had her own costume palely emblazoned on it. The blue rubber
with it’s famous red and yellow “S” insignia stretched tightly across her ample tits. On her back, a swash of red cutting diagonally across her shoulder blades implied a swirling cape yet revealed a blue tunic on the lower half of her back. A thin pale red rubber skirt was attached to Supergirl’s waist and simulated red rubber panties completely surrounded her crotch. The image of Supergirl’s boots matched Wonder Woman’s, minus the white stripe.
The squeaking sound of dry rubber filled the air as the two women slowly shifted in place as they awoke.

Just then the sound of an elevator car rising to the floor emerged from behind the panelled doors in the corner of the suite. The elevator opened and out walked Don Silvio and a tall dark stranger. Both men were smiling broadly.

“Hello ladies,” they greeted heartily to the two dazed and unwary super heroines.
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Abductorenmadrid
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Well written dynamic between SG and WW at first on multiple levels. Is the strategy of just "going with it" and awaiting rescue better than fighting all the way. And, is SG in need of a slap to break her out of self pity or does she need to work through this guilt on her own. SM and LLs dialogue was equally interesting while he had his faculties back at least.
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My current story is Supergirl V Bane


This is all the stuff I've done here but don't tell anyone about this!
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DrDominator9
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Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Party Girls
Part 63 – A


Drowsy, disoriented and still a little weak from the effects of the kryptonite-enhanced knock-out gas, Supergirl and Wonder Woman lie straddled across their respective stuffed armchair and couch in slovenly disarray. This is completely inappropriate to their status as famous heroines. Tightly clad in rubber catsuits that are boldly imprinted with red, blue and yellow simulations of their famous costumes, the once mighty heroines look more like drunken holdovers from some all-night frat party than the former two mightiest upholders of justice on the planet.

With their legs spread wide and their feminine treasures exposed through clear plastic like tightly-wrapped meat in a supermarket case and their eyes half open in dopey incoherence, the famous beauties are draped in befuddled confusion across the furniture in the living room of their Pleasure Dome suite. The pair of groggy heroines are primed and ready for the sexual advances of Don Silvio Corronado and his second-in-command, Fabio Albanese.

Don Silvio regards the pair of famous beauties with a hugely amused smile. Sergei has delivered his night’s entertainment precisely as ordered! Once again, Silvio will take the Amazon beauty and use her for his own pleasure. The $250,000 fee each for him and Fabio was ridiculous, of course, but with a chain of sixteen high-end martini bars, a numbers racket, five whorehouses, a string of drug pushers working Newark and Camden, and a controlling interest in a casino in the Poconos, he virtually had a license to print money these days. And this spirited bitch was well worth the price. He’d never had a better night of sex than the last time he was in this apartment. He expected at least as good a time tonight.

Meanwhile, his cohort Fabio is standing wide-eyed with his navy blue suit jacket slung over his shoulder while he appraises with leering wonder the scene facing him. He’d been told to expect the time of his life tonight but then Silvio was always something of a grandstanding don and Fabio had grown used to having his expectations doused by cold reality. But not this time. Stretched out before him were the two most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Their rubber-clad bodies were fucking amazing, with long legs, shapely calves, bodacious tits and more curves than an X-Games motocross course. He was still skeptical that they were really superheroines, although they were dressed for the part, kind of. And the blonde definitely looked like the Supergirl of the DVD series he’d seen. What’s more, the two of them looked so out of it that Fabio felt he could easily walk up to them and fondle their ta-tas without them even being aware of it. Employing the aggressive style that had helped him rise to the prime position he enjoyed in Don Corronado’s gang, Fabio does exactly what he wants. He strides over to a dully nodding Supergirl whose legs straddle each arm of the overstuffed chair in which she sprawls. Squatting beside her, the 30-year old mob lieutenant boldly palms the blonde girl’s breast, firmly squeezing the soft round tit with a squeak of dry rubber.

“....ooohhh...” The luscious cunt moans softly as Fabio slowly fondles her tit with impunity. The famous S logo imprinted on the rubber over her chest stretches and squeaks and folds as Fabio’s hand plies the soft fleshy mound with a firm squeezing, rolling and dimpling of it by his well-practiced fingers. After a few seconds, the grinning hoodlum reaches down between the blonde teenager’s legs with his other hand, brushes past the flimsy plastic skirt hanging off her hips and firmly gropes the red plastic encased crotch underneath the skirt. After a few simple compressions of Supergirl’s pubic mound, the blue-eyed heroines pupils roll back under her lids with a moan and both ankles twitch with the pleasure of Fabio’s steady stimulation.

“Wow. Blondie here is sure ready to go!” Fabio is thrilled; a kid in a candy store with a ten-dollar bill who can’t decide which sweets to sample. He wants them all. He squeezes the goods again, both the blonde’s tit and her twat simultaneously, grinning like a fool. Supergirl moans once again and her tongue reacts with slow lick of her dry lips.

Across the room, Don Silvio has sat down on the couch beside the sprawled Amazon princess. His blue suit jacket and yellow tie have been hung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. The top two buttons on his silver silk shirt have been undone and a hint of brushy brown hair peeks through. His brush-cut hair, ramrod straight back and military bearing directly contrast with the listless pose of the famous heroine beside him. With one leg flung over the top of the couch and the other draped off the seat cushion with the side of her rubber-clad foot resting against the sea-green carpet, Wonder Woman is lying back in bleary semi-consciousness, a thin line of shiny drool showing on her chin. The big-breasted, black-haired heroine’s vagina, packaged in blue rubber with clear plastic stars, is boldly displayed to Silvio’s beaming delight.

“Oh, poor Wonder Woman is too out of it to realize how indecently posed she is,” Silvio softly says while reaching over to grasp one of those amazing double Ds of hers. Squeezing on the yellow eagle wing imprinted over her breast, the bemused mobster molests the compromised heroine to his smarmy delight. Her huge breast fills his hand and then some. Come to papa, you beautiful jugs!

A gentle grunt and sigh flutters Diana’s lips. Reaching over with his other hand, Silvio squeezes down severely on Wonder Woman’s nipple.

“...egghhhhhhh...” hisses the spread-eagled beauty, her glazed eyes struggling to focus on the source of the pain.

“Wakey, wakey, Amazon warrior. Your master is here to take his pleasure from you,” whispers the playful Don in Diana’s ear, nibbling on it after he speaks.

“...whuhhh?” Diana tries to brush an annoying pest away from her ear to no avail: a warm wetness circles her ear. There’s a sudden nip on her lobe and then a curled tongue delves inside the outer lip of her ear canal. Wonder Woman’s eyes spring wide open and she tries to sit up but a firm hand on her breast pulls her easily down onto her back.

“Not so fast there, princess. I’m still enjoying tonguing your ear.”

“...what?....hooz doin’ this...?” Another attempt to sit up is foiled by a firm hand squeezing Diana’s breast and yanking her back down. A second hand is rolling her nipple roughly within the thin rubber sheathing her breast. The sensation feels alarmingly good to the befuddled woman and she is disturbed at the ease with which she is aroused.

“It’s just an old friend come to play,” Don Corronado whispers, before rapidly flicking his tongue in and out of Wonder Woman’s ear, then bending his head lower and caressing the nape of her neck with a long slow swipe of his skilled tongue. Diana’s shoulders hunch up in a spasm of pleasure and her head jerks sideways in delighted reflex as her sensitive neck sends shooting sparkles of quivering excitement straight to her head.

“OHH!” Diana’s head locks against her shoulder in helpless joy at Silvio’s tactic. And she suddenly remembers whose voice this is. “Silvio? Don Corronado?”

“The one and only. At your service, Wonder Woman. With you soon to be at mine.”

“You’re my ‘date’ for the evening?” Wonder Woman is finally able to turn her head after the pleasure spasm relents and wipes the drool off her chin. She then finds herself looking into Silvio’s mocking eyes.

“Bingo, babe!”

“...whuz...go’n on,.” Supergirl mumbles. The pleasure of having her crotch and breasts rubbed so briskly pierces through the fog of the kryptonite knockout gas. The constant stroking ultimately brings her up to a conscious level that allows her some coherence. She squirms with excitement under Fabio’s steady hands. Looking over at the brown-haired, brown eyed good-looking man who is caressing her body with quick firm strokes, Supergirl finally has her full wits about her and realizes where she is and what’s expected of her. “And what is your name, gorgeous?”

“Fabio.”

“It suits you. You have a nice touch there, Fabio. Anything I can do for you?”

“Plenty!”

“State your first preference then, tall, dark and hands-on,” Supergirl quips, her mind coming back to near-normal quickness, even with Tony’s thin kryptonite choker clasped around her throat so she could put out this evening without killing the clients with her brand of super loving.

“What’s your specialty?” Fabio wants the famous heroine to shame herself a bit by saying the words of the action she will perform.

“It used to be flying, reflecting bullets and putting nasty criminals behind bars, present company excluded of course. But lately it’s been nothing but taking the high hard one in the old silk purse. A fair amount of blowjobs, too. And, occasionally, getting it in the rear.”

Supergirl’s obvious callous disregard for her reputation disappoints and shocks Fabio to the core. Would Supergirl even think about talking like this?

“You sure you’re the real deal? You actually Supergirl?”

“In the rubber-encased flesh. At your beck and call, fella. So, again, what’s your preference, Fab?”

“Well, you can start by sucking my dick, Supergirl. From your videos, you look damn good at it.”

“Well, as I always say, why do something if you’re not going to put your heart in it. Why don’t we switch places. You take this chair and get comfortable and I’ll do the rest.”

Looking over at his lieutenant and Supergirl and hearing their conversation, Don Corronado is quite surprised at Supergirl’s behavior.

“Your friend seems quite, uh, accepting of her position. She’s not like you were when I was here last time. She must have less willpower than you, huh, Wonder Woman?”

“Hmmph. I’m not even in her league, Silvio. But she’s more pragmatic than I am. Than I was. I’ve seen the light as well and will be happy to please you as you like. What’s your pleasure, Silvio?”

“Just like that? No, fire and brimstone? No spirit? Just open the old cooze and let him have at it?”

“Something like that. Fighting back has too many disadvantages in the long run. Kara has helped me see the error of my ways.”

“So I guess shifting from superheroine to prostitute was an easy flip-flop, huh?”

“No, not easy. But I’ve learned my lesson.” Diana is getting angry but recalls her promise not to make waves anymore, so she tries a different approach. “I, uh, am sorry if, ah, I interfered in any of your, you know, criminal activities in the past.”

“Really?!” Corronado is startled at this. He also doesn’t believe a word of it! “The Davis Chemical job, for example. That warehouse sting cost me 800 grand when you and your little cop pals in Jersey City busted my guys in broad daylight. You’re sorry about that now, huh?”

“That was you? I didn’t see you there.”

“It was my crew though. I was lucky enough to be elsewhere that night or I’d be in the slammer also. Two of my guys are still doing hard time. Think you’re sorry enough to bump back your fee for tonight? That would be a start.”

“I...i...uh..can’t do that. Tony and Sergei control the finances of this arrangement.” Diana’s face feels hot and she can’t look Silvio in the eye, admitting her situation so blatantly.

“Oh, that’s right, you’re just the good little whore doing what her pimps tell her to do,” snaps the disgruntled don. He never expected Wonder Woman to be so submissive. It was shocking to see and hear.

“That’s how it is,” she mumbles. “I can’t help it.”

“Well, I must say that I find this new attitude very disappointing.”

“Wait til I get my lips around your member,” Diana snaps, looking up, the sarcasm and anger filling her eyes. Then she shuts them down quickly. She mustn’t lose her temper. More softly she adds, “Things might pick up for you.”

“You really do play the full-fledged whore to the hilt, huh?”

Wonder Woman’s breath catches short and she freezes in place on the couch while turning over on her stomach to put her head in Silvio’s lap. “I....no. I’m just trying to be....realistic.”

“Spoken like a true professional. Congratulations on your new degree. Bachelor of Sluttiness. Sorry I missed the graduation ceremony. Must have been a real blowjob. I mean, you know, blowout.”

“You don’t know.... what was done... I... resisted... you know I did...but...”

“But being a superheroine is so hard, I know,” mocks Silvio.

“Oh, shut up and let me pull out your prick and get this done!” Wonder Woman angrily inches her body up toward Silvio on the couch and reaches for his fly. The palm of his hand slapping against her forehead jolts her and stops her forward progress toward the Don’s lap.

“Not so fast, Wonder Whore. You may recall I enjoy controlling the show. We do this at my pace, not yours, Princess. So back off a moment, slut. I have to think how I want to play this.”

“What? You can’t get hard unless you’re the one calling the shots, Silvio? Was your toilet training that traumatic?”

Silvio’s hard bitch slap knocks Wonder Woman’s face sideways with a report that stops Supergirl and Fabio instantly. The mighty Maid of Steel stops her long, slow stroking of the young thug’s inner thighs with her two hands and pulls her head from where it was hovering between Fabio’s thighs. They both look over at the couch in surprise.

“Di, are you alright?” Supergirl’s searches Diana’s face with deep concern.

“It’s okay, Kara. I’ve been hit harder by the vestal virgins in the temple of Aphrodite when I forgot my line in the induction ceremony of the Amazon sewing circle.” Wonder Woman sneers at Silvio with haughty pride.

“At last, a show of some spirit from the warrior slut,” snarls Silvio. The two antagonists glare at each other momentarily then both break into smiles and throaty chuckles at the ridiculous banter and showmanship.

“Well. What do you say, Silvio? Can I give you that BJ now?” Diana coos, edging closer to Silvio’s lap until her head hovers just above it.

“Well, if you insist,” he grins.

Diana closes her heart away as she prepares to open her mouth. After several squeezes and several rapid strokes of Silvio’s penis in her gentle fist, the man’s penis wells up to an impressive size and hardness.

“You remember having this cock drilled hard inside you, don’t you, Wonder Woman?”

“Oh yeah. It was more fun than my prom,” the Amazon replies.

“You had a prom on Paradise Island?”

“It’s Paradise. Every night is like prom night. It’s a bad metaphor and a sarcastic one at that. Now shut up and let me concentrate.”

The beautiful black-haired heroine goes down on the mob boss with a dedication to her chore that she always puts to any task, from training for battle to learning Amazon court etiquette from her mother to reading summary papers of documents from the State Department. “No task is too small that it shouldn’t be done well, Diana,” Her mother would often admonish if the young princess erred in some way. So, how am I doing now, Mother?

Her mouth closes down on the tip of the stiff shaft while she slowly rotates her right hand around it, left to right, then right to left, her warm palm circling and caressing his member. Her wet tongue slides over the surface of his cock tip with slow, circular passes. It tickles the underside of the mushroom head, sweeps over and around the bulbous curves, flicks at the snake eye opening until Silvio grunts in pleasure. And then her lips press tighter against the shaft and she draws her head back slowly, pulling against the tip with the full force of her thin pink lips. This elicits a long, low groan from the dark-haired mob boss who is leaning back against the arm of the couch and luxuriating in the pleasure of having the world-famous Wonder Woman’s soft, warm wet mouth willingly suck hard on his dick: a wonderful start to his evening. There might be something to this concept of a woman willingly giving herself to him. It had been a long time since he’d tried it this way.

Diana’s left hand slides over the inside of Silvio’s thighs, stroking and caressing all around his groin as she gradually pulls her mouth off his dick then bends her head low and takes his left ball in her mouth. She gently sucks on his ballsack. The left ball is rolling around inside the sack that’s inside her mouth. He can feel her tongue nudging the tiny nut this way and that. Her fingertips drum and flutter against the inner edge of his thighs, all around the area of his nutsack. Her dancing digits and warm breath stiffen him to a point of delicious anxiety.

“Damn, you got a hell of a lot better at blowjobs, Princess,” groans Silvio, his head buried in the soft arm cushion, his voice raw with delight. “Last time, you almost ripped the skin off my dick. Leastwise, until I slapped a nympho patch on you. But now you give head better than half my stable. Someone’s been a bad little girl.” Silvio suddenly grunts as Wonder Woman tickles his ball with her tongue.

A bead of pre-cum shimmers on the tip of his penis as Diana sucks on his left ball. Removing herself from his nuts momentarily, she gently licks the cum off the tip she’d noticed before bending low again and taking his right ball in her mouth.

“...and ahm...jus...gehhddin....sdahhded...” Diana says with a mouth full of his right nut. She tongues his nuts for two full minutes more, then kisses his balls, rubs his cock with her fist and swallows his whole sack at once. Finally, she pulls her mouth off his sack. He is as hard as a cop’s nightstick. The dick throbs and bucks in the grip of the Amazon beauty. Then, with quiet determination, Wonder Woman opens her mouth wide and swallows Silvio’s full shaft, taking it deep into her mouth until its tip slides into her throat. She bobs her head up and down, swallowing the full length of Silvio’s pulsing shaft deep inside her throat over and over.

“ULGKH....ULGKH....ULGKH....ULGKH....”

The friction of the tight channel strokes the full length of his prick every time she bobs. It’s a bit like being pulled into a pussy but yet different. Her tight lips pass along the tight outer skin of the penis even as the head is enveloped by her throat. Nine, ten, eleven strokes of this has Silvio’s eyelids twitching with joyous spasms as he feels his climax build. Wonder Woman is sucking him off like a pro. No gagging. No distress. No slowing down. Even her hands remain busy as her fingernails lightly circle his scrotum, tickle his thighs and drive him to a frenzy. The tips of her nails slowly drag along his inner thighs, sparking his passions to even greater heights. It’s hard to believe it. But it’s happening and it’s too much pleasure too fast.

“...whai....wait....I....want to....fuck.....ohhhhh!”

But he can’t stop this pleasure. His weak hands try to push the bobbing head of lustrous black hair away but the demoness is determined. One hand reaches up and presses against his chest, pushing on the silk shirt, driving Silvio hard into the recesses of the cool leather couch arm. In his indecision and his pleasure, he is helpless to stop her. 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 times that warm mouth pulls up and down around his rigid cock. 20 times he savors the exquisite friction of that gorgeous mouth encompassing his swollen rod with tight lips and a tighter throat. 20 times the head of his penis drives into the beautiful heroine’s throat, the pressure of having its tip squeeze into that tight opening over and over. 20 times those shining blue eyes measure his face for his need, daring him not to cum. A full 20 times he enjoys the steady, unrelenting sensation of having Wonder Woman serve his pleasure with her mouth. Behaving like a woman should. The famous Champion of All Women is proving what women are meant to do: suck cock and serve their males like they’re told!

The constant, repeating sensation of having his prick stroked and rubbed and swallowed whole by Wonder Woman’s warm all-encompassing mouth, having her fingers caress his balls, having his joint polished to perfection is absolute bliss. The experience of seeing and feeling this Amazon princess hovering over him sucking him off without the hint of a reprieve or the suggestion of guilt is simply too much for the mob boss to handle. Wonder Woman’s bobbing head is unrelenting as she dives again and again into his lap, swallowing his penis over and over and over, it’s pink surface smoothly glistening with her spit in the lamplight as it appears again and again with each gulping stroke of it.

He cannot hold back the rising surge of ecstasy a second longer. With a grunt and a howl, he erupts into her throat. His knees twitching, his cum flooding out of him in torrents that the earnest heroine swallows and swallows and swallows again. He is spent. His head is reeling. His heart is jack-hammering away inside his chest, his eyes are drifting up to the ceiling and Silvio is mindlessly enjoying the intricate scroll work around the base of the hanging chandelier over the kitchen table behind him, lost in the gentle swirls of the ceramic pattern and the slow, pleasurable after-eddies of a major orgasm. Suddenly there is a fist around his cock and Wonder Woman licks the tip of his stiff penis with a brusquely flicking tongue. Several final spurts of flying semen jerk out of him into her waiting mouth. She swallows this last measure and grins up at him. His eyes are still fixed on the ceiling. He doesn’t even see her in throes of his thrumming joy.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He hears her finally say. He looks up blearily just in time to savor the sight of a thin white line of cum as it hangs off the corner of her famous smiling lips before breaking falling to the couch cushion.

“...no....wasn’t...” he whispers his reply. “...wasn’t bad....at all...”


* * *

Frankie Lupenzo sits on one of the cracked red leather stools at the bar of the Top Hat Bar and Grill nursing a beer, absent-mindedly turning his ruby pinky ring, and shooting the bull with the over-sized bartender. The guy’s got a nasty scar but seems pretty nice despite his looks. Still, Frankie is not happy about being in this dive but Gino had told him to see if there was an opening in the South Bronx for one of his own street dealers. Word had gotten back to Gino that the regular pusher had disappeared from the area. This move was unusual, to move in on the turf heavily controlled by another family. But Gino wanted to push Tony Bonano back after Supergirl had trashed his headquarters and he’d explained to Frankie that a dive bar was as good a start as any.

Frankie only worked on the periphery of Gino’s family. He wasn’t the brightest bulb in the family’s chandelier, so to speak, and therefore Gino only gave him the simplest assignments. His job on this was to simply talk to bartenders around the South Bronx and see who wouldn’t mind if one of Gino’s dealers came around and used their place every now and then to sell from. The bartender would get a taste of the business. He’d get $25 bucks for every transaction that took place in the bar. Big or small, it didn’t matter. It was a nice way to make some extra walking around money: more if it was an active locale.

The bartender had just returned in front of Frankie, setting up a new glass of Coors for the gray-haired stranger in the very expensive Italian suit. That suit looked like it cost more than what this place made in a fiscal quarter. The only other people in the place were a pair of randy teenagers who were busily tonguing and groping in a back booth.

“Geez, that’s, uh, what you’d pay for each sale? Twenty-five smackers?”

“Well, Eddie, that’s the best I can do. This place don’t look too busy. Don’t seem like it would be much of a bother and it could put some much needed income into your till. Or your pocket if you don’t tell the owner.”

“It does sound okay, Frank. But don’t the cops hold the bar responsible if they catch drug dealers workin’ on the premises? Couldn’t the owner lose his license and shit?”

“Tell me, Eddie. How often the cops come in here? When they’re not taking their payoffs, I mean.”

“Never.”

“Well then, what’s your worry?”

“If a guy is dealin’ when they do come in, I’m fuckin’ out of a job, that’s my worry.”

“Sure there’s some risk. But that’s why we pay you $25 a pop, instead of $10 like some other families. We know the troubles and we compensate you for ‘em.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie Bluchak frowns and looks down at his feet. He’s thinking this dumb fat fuck is asking him to put his head in a noose. “Other families” he had said. Not even particularly cagey about the whole thing either. It wasn’t a smart play to take this offer. In fact it was pure stupidity. Especially considering his new friend Carmine had called him yesterday and said the owner was seriously considering selling the bar to Carmine. Which is why he had excused himself to go downstairs and get a new keg and then called Carmine on his cell phone while out of earshot from the stooge on his stool upstairs.

Carmine was polite and smooth and told Eddie not to worry about anything. He would be giving him the same deal that Frank was offering, not to mention, he reminded Eddie, about becoming the full-time manager of a newly-refurbished bar. He then asked Eddie to describe the guy offering the deal. Eddie did so, right down to the ruby pinky ring. Carmine got very quiet when he was done. After Eddie thought he’d had experienced a dropped cell call or that Carmine had hung up, he heard the big Italian say softly, “Stall him. I’m there in ten minutes.” And Carmine had hung up without another word.

“What kind of stuff will your guy be sellin’?” Eddie turns to ring up the Coors and checks the wall clock. Seven minutes or so before Carmine comes in and rousts this pig. Eddie is looking forward to watching Carmine throw this bum out of his establishment.

“What the fuck do you care?” Frankie has foam on his gray moustache and Eddie doesn’t even tell him; the moron. This is how you talk to a guy you’re trying to sell something to?

“Bigger drugs mean bigger problems, Frank. I need to know what I’m gettin’ into, right?”

“Well, what was your previous guy sellin’?”

Eddie’s eyebrows go up. How did they know that Joey Target had disappeared. He hadn’t seen him after he’d left with Carmine that day.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Eddie. You don’t think I know that little rat fuck Joey Target used to work outta’ here? You don’t think I do my homework?” Actually Frankie had been told all this by his brother Gino, the man who always did his homework. Frankie was the D student in school while Gino notched mostly As and Bs.

Ed turned, leaned over and yelled at the two teens in the back booth to stall for time and give himself a moment to think. “You two! Cut out that neckin’ and either buy two more Cokes or clear out. I ain’t runnin’ a library here!”

The boy disengages his lip lock with his red-haired girlfriend with the freckles, the acne and the loose bra and unbuttoned skirt and walks over to the bar. He gingerly extracts a five from his wallet and slaps it on the table with false bravado.

“Two more Cokes, my good man,” the lad says, his voice breaking badly on the word “Cokes” before he looks down in shame. Puberty sucks! Frankie snorts a laugh and Eddie has to turn to the register and ring up the sale not to laugh in the kid’s face and shame him more.

Hey, puberty and voice changes you get past. It’s not like the scar he’s got, the bartender muses. He feels for the kid who’s never said word one about his scar for all the times he’s brought a parade of girls in here. And while Frankie looks on, Eddie squirts out four cokes from the soft drink gun for the young lovers and says, “The extra round’s on the house. But keep your hands above her waist, Wallace or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Sure thing, Eddie. Thanks!” He carries off the four cokes very awkwardly but with an eagerness that only teenagers can generate.

“Was I ever that young and stupid,” Frankie murmurs aloud.

“Definitely,” Eddie snaps back and gets a nasty glare for his troubles. It’s only two minutes left before Carmine should show. Eddie had sneaked a glance at the clock while ringing up the lad’s drinks.

“So, what did Joey Target sell mostly?”

“Crack and coke,” Eddie answers. “Some grass, maybe pills from time to time. No heroine. But he gave me thirty bucks for each deal.”

“That’s bullshit. Now you’re just negotiating,” Frankie smiles. “I can negotiate. What say we stick at $25 per and I don’t have this shithole torched as part of a neighborhood improvement program?”

“There’s no call for that,” Eddie says, leaning forward, putting his big mug right into Frankie’s face. “We’re talking business and you insult my establishment. I don’t like that.”

“It’s not even your shit hole, Eddie. Why you getting so steamed,” sneers Frankie backing off a foot and reaching into his suit jacket for his Saturday night special tucked into his belt. The bartender wanted to intimidate him, he picked the wrong guy. He was Don Gino Lupenzo’s brother. This scar-faced fuck was a nobody. But he’d learn who he was dealing with. Right now.

HHHHHOOOOOOONNNKKK

The blast of the horn from street traffic that roared into the bar startled everybody in it. Frankie froze in place. So did Eddie who’d been reaching under the bar with his hidden arm and going for his head-busting pipe. His ‘co-manager’ as he liked to refer to it. The two teens even stopped exchanging spit when the door squeaked open and the blare of that horn shattered the night.

With his face darkened by the night and with Frankie turned to stone by his unexpected appearance, Carmine had a clear advantage. He took one look at Frankie in the dull red neon glow of the Budweiser sign and knew he had the right man, a man who looked to have his hand under his coat.

“Frankie Lupenzo!” Carmine called out.

“Who are you?” Frankie’s hand was finally moving again, the stasis over.

“A friend of Tony Bonano. And you’re on my turf, you dumb bastard!”

“Hell no I’m not, fella. Eddie and me, we’re just conversing. But that’s okay. I’ll go back to Manhattan. Like I was never here, my friend. You’re a family man. You get me. Right, gumbah? Like I was never here at all.”

Frankie starts to edge off the stool his one hand up in supplication while his other slides toward his gun under his coat. But Frankie was never smart enough to figure the angles and was over confident about being the brother of a big-time boss. He would make a name for himself tonight. So he foolishly reaches the last two inches for his gun and wraps his fingers around it.

Carmine never hesitates. He brings his gun up from behind his leg from where he’d hidden it just before he pulled the bar’s door open, aims it straight at Frankie Lupenzo’s chest and shoots the mob boss’ brother four times.

Frank Lupenzo falls backward off the stool and lands on the floor in a heap of beautiful Italian cloth. He’s dead as a man can be. There is no flicker, no final words, no Italian oaths. There was just a bleeding lifeless body. And two wide-eyed teenagers. And one dumbstruck bartender.

Carmine strode forward, noted the teens and turned his face immediately toward the bar.

“Get rid of the kids,” he whispered to Eddie. “Now!”

“Thank god you got here in time, Jimbo,” Eddie said, too loudly, “I thought he was gonna rob me. He pulled his gun just as you came in. It’s okay kids, he’s an off-duty cop. But you guys better leave, you don’t want to get yourselves in trouble. Jimbo, can you take Frank into the back and I’ll call the cops while you do.”

Eager to hide his face from the witnesses, Carmine bends low, keeps his head down, takes the two wrists of the dead Frank Lupenzo
and drags him quickly into the back room.

“Button up, young lady,” Eddie says softly, looking over at the immobile teens. “Wallace, take her home. She’s upset. Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you everything that happens. But keep quiet until I tell you or you could get into trouble, okay?”

Wallace is no dummy. Eddie has had his back for over a year that he’s been bringing girls in here. He doesn’t quite buy the way Eddie has described what just happened but he knows he’s not a stool pigeon and that he had a good thing here in the Top Hat. So he does what Eddie tells him, quickly helping his date to straighten up her disheveled clothes so they can split in a hurry.

“Come on...uh...” What was her name, Debbie, no, it was weirder than that. Dylan. Right, that was it. Like that old singer his dad liked with the bad voice and the absurd lyrics. “..Dylan. Let’s get out of here. We don’t want any trouble.”

“But, that man. He’s dead.”

“Right and he was robbing the place. So let’s go and let the cops do their job. It’s late anyway. Your mom’s gonna pitch a fit as it is.”

“But he’s dead.”

“And if you don’t want your mother to kill you then we should get you home.”

“...but he...”

“Dylan! Let’s go. We’re both underage here.” Wallace is loud and stern, trying to break through the freckled girl’s shock. “We don’t need the hassle, right?”

The red head’s eyes go wide with the age realization and she buttons up the rest of her blouse and heads for the door, pulled by Wallace. On the way out, she looks back at Eddie in wonder and shock.

“He was gonna rob me, miss.”

“....dead...” she mumbles as she is led out the door into the cool night.
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DrDominator9
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Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Party Girls
Part 63 – B



After the teens are gone, Carmine comes out from the back.

“That was great thinking, Eddie. Now, I’ve called a few guys and they’re coming here to clean the place good. Will the kids be cool on this?”

“The boy is no problem. He’s smart enough to know how to handle himself about this. The girl will be the issue, but my cover story may hold. If there’s no news story about this, she may not say or do anything stupid. Will there be a news story, Carmine. Who was that stooge?”

“Let’s just say he was the brother of someone important. But it won’t make the news for a while. I don’t think that the VIP will say anything right away. Don’t think he like his brother all that much. Anyway, his brother will never be found so it should all blow over.”

“I hope so,” Eddie says. “I’m not used to rough trade like this. A little dealing in the back booth is one thing. This is somethin’ else entirely, Carmine.”

“Eddie. Listen to me. This bar is as good as yours. It was even before this. Now the makeover is entirely on me, Ed. I won’t let you pay a penny for anything. Did you think of a new name for the place yet?”

“Well, I was thinking of calling it Eddie Blue’s which is, ya know, short for Bluchak. What do you think?”

“Hey! That’s a great name, Eddie. Really great. We’ll get started on the redesign right after I conclude the sale with the owner. I’m pretty sure he’ll sell this place with the offer I make him.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow at Carmine at this turn of phrase. “One he can’t refuse,” he whispers.

Carmine laughs out loud before answering. “Hell no. Cash, Eddie. Lots of cash. That’s all. You see too many movies.”

Moments later, Carmine’s cleaning crew arrives and an hour later the place is spotless with all vermin removed and traces thereof.

* * *

Supergirl had willingly and earnestly honored Fabio’s request and had given him a blowjob of near-mythic quality as far as he was concerned. She sucked, fondled and licked away at him with pure abandon, treating him to a toe-curling wash of pleasure that almost had him cumming like a fire hose in her mouth. Almost. Being young and experienced, he’d been able to hold himself back at the last moment and now he was using his hyper-rigid dick to its full advantage.

Pulling the rubber-clad blonde tease out of the chair with no little amount of urgency, he had dragged her over to the wall and told her to put both hands against it. Like a perpetrator in some alley nabbed by a cop, he even kicked her legs a bit wider apart. And then he pulled open the crotch flap on the rubber catsuit and drove his iron shaft deep into Supergirl’s vag with a grunt and a hard thrust of his hips. Fortunately for her, Supergirl had gotten off on the BJ and was more than wet enough for Fabio to slide far up into the center of heaven without any trouble at the Pearly Gates.

“UUNGHH!” The Maid of Steel grunts as Fabio’s prick of steel drives to her core without any preamble. Her palms spread out wider against the wall, her fingertips splayed as Fabio’s hands rest on her hips. He pulls out and then thrusts up into her with a fierce need that shakes her body all over. Her breasts wobble and bounce within the rubber body suit. So does her tight round ass.

Fabio enjoys the sensation so much, he gives Supergirl a third helping of his dick, pulling it almost entirely out before his fingers clutch her hips, he leans forward and with his chest now pressing against her back, thrusts his cock back into the warm soft channel that is Supergirl’s cunt.

“OHH!”

“HGHHNNH.”

Both of them grunt on that thrust. And then Fabio circles his hips so his dick rotates within the blonde beauty’s pussy like a snake looking in the wrong direction for a quick exit.

“Ahhh! Whoaah!” Supergirl’s forehead drops against the wall and she pushes back against the tall Italian stud to enhance her sensation. Her short plastic skirt is hiked up completely, pinned tightly between their bodies. The blonde champions’s red rubber-clad ass is thrust out against his thighs, pressing against his suit pants as she savors the tool sticking out of the fly into the deepest recesses of her pussy. The small flap of the rubber catsuit dangles between her legs and tickles her inner thighs.

“Liked that, didn’t you, Supergirl.”

“Yup!” She blurts immediately.

“Want more of that?”

“Yup,” she says once again, without shame. And she gets it again. The pull out, the thrust and the circle dick! It’s pure bliss. The snake can’t find its way out and Supergirl hopes it never does. She shimmies in place, her body wriggling, her ass rocking up and down and then circling against the man’s warm thighs as she times her motions with his, countering his leftward moves with hers to the right to maximize the friction of it all.

Fabio’s hands come up from her hips to encompass the teenager’s pert young breasts. He squeezes them gently, squishing the famous logo imprinted over them as he pulls out slowly. And then inexorably, with incredible snail-like progression, the beefy stud patiently re-enters her. Inch by inch his dick makes its way up her vagina, the heat of him filling her, the size of him stretching her, the length of him satisfying her to the inner rooms of her mind as he finally pushes into the very depths of her, his balls tight against her labia.

“That wasn’t too slow for you, was it, blondie?”

“No. It felt great. Intense.”

“Intense is good. But so is fast, hard friction.”

“Oh yes,” the famous teen champion answers. “It certainly is.”

“Boy, you two are real party girls,” Fabio says.

“Guess we are,” murmurs Supergirl. “Now about that fast friction...” She lets the request hang in the air with breathy supplication.

Fabio smiles at this, then begins to pump his hips against Supergirl’s rear with steady strokes that increase in their pace with every third one. Pressed against the wall by the powerful 30-year-old, the rubber-clad beauty is being briskly humped by the young mobster. His dick is driving deeply in and out of her sopping cooze with a mad frenzy that completely takes her breath away. In and out. In and out. In and out. The man is like an oil derrick and she’s a gusher ready to spew.

One hand caresses and fondles her chest with an urgent firmness that fills Supergirl with a pleasurable warmth that infuses the stroking below with a upper level of joy that makes her head drop back against Fabio’s shoulder. His other hand first rubs her left nipple and then her right and then back and forth, giving each tiny pink bud repeated twists and tugs that draw loud delighted moans from the blonde.

Meanwhile the stroking cock pistoning in and out of her damp pussy at a blistering pace is filling Supergirl’s mind with such joy that she feels a major orgasm building within her. Pinned to the wall now, with Fabio thrusting into her over and over, Supergirl can no longer time the motions of her rear to match this human dynamo pumping away at her. Helpless to react, she merely accepts the gift of his driving, ramming, pulling and pushing cock with squeaks and sighs as he envelops her with his body and owns her completely.

Well, almost completely. All that is missing is a finger at her....Wait! There it is. It’s his, it’s fast, it’s furious and it’s targeted directly at the swollen bud of Supergirl’s purest femininity. Ashis cock continues its endless glistening penetration into her swollen channel, the Maid of Steel spastically jerks in pure ecstasy as her last need is met and the finger flutters rapidly against her most sensitive spot.

The famous Last Daughter of Krypton is now too delirious with pleasure to do anything but sag in Fabio’s one-armed embrace, her head nodding forward and bumping softly into the wall as he rubs her left nipple with his right hand while his left hand cups her pubic mound even as his middle finger flips back and forth against her clit. Her rubber suit is moist and cloudy with her sweat. It squeaks much less now with the layer of sweat inside it from her and outside it from him as it drips off his forehead onto the rubber gleaming in the track lighting from overhead.

Fabio’s long shaft drives the length of Supergirl’s channel again and again and again. She can’t count the strokes, she doesn’t care. She can’t move against him anymore. She’s too weak. She doesn’t care. She’s panting like a poodle as her body is jolted over and over and over by this incredible cocksman and she could care less what she sounds like or looks like. The only thing in her world is the thrusting, the friction, the fondling, the finger. All of that rubbing drives her to the very edge of reason. The rubbing of firm fingers against her nipple: twist and pull, twist and pull. The hot rubbing of his long, stiff cock against the walls of her pussy: back and forth, back and forth. The rubbing of her clit: round and round, round and round.

All that friction, all that heat, all that desire, the blonde teenage heroine is blind with it. It overwhelms her totally. It transports her to the center of ecstacy itself and she is helpless to resist the engulfing wave. There’s nothing left but a screaming white wall of pleasure that sweeps her away like a tsunami. Supergirl groans loudly and cums hard, a gushing stream of warm liquid drips down into her rubber suit, drains down the outside of it along her inner legs, pools in the carpet. The sweaty teen hangs limply in Fabio’s strong arms, drained of every ounce of energy by her absolute pleasure. Fabio holds her there. The two of them are breathing hard, leaning against the wall, dripping with sweat in a daze of pleasure. They stay that way for two minutes, Supergirl numb from the mighty orgasm. Her eyes fluttering, her mouth slack.

Surprisingly, Fabio himself has not yet cum. He’s close but there’s an incredible control and reserve there. No doubt it will be put to good use in the soft curved ass of the world-renowned Maid of Steel. Or maybe Wonder Woman. Either way, he is very much looking forward to putting it to one of them.

* * *

In the small control room behind the Pleasure Dome’s penthouse suite, Carlo Pastore’s hands have been a blur for the last two hours. He’s been frantically pushing levers back and forth, toggling control sticks around and around, and punching a field of buttons arrayed before him to capture every aspect of the sexual performances being given in the suite next door. High-end video cameras have been his eyes and embedded microphones his ears.

He feels exhausted but totally pleased with himself. He has yet to review everything but he’s garnered nearly 120 minutes of the most erotic sexual behavior by the two most famous superheroines on earth as they eagerly bestowed their every favors on their lucky male partners.

His prick is rock hard from all the heat and passion he’s recorded for posterity. All the swallowing, thrusting, dripping and yelping desire has given him a boner he’s not sure will ever go down. But more than that, he has come through for Tony. He knows the big man will be pleased with what Carlo is sure to be a very hot-selling DVD. Maybe there will be a bonus in it for him.

Stevie had told him that Tony was generous to those who executed their duties well and he definitely had been in the zone when all that sex was going on. Why wouldn’t he be? He wanted to see every thing he could as best he could and the equipment responded flawlessly. Zooms were smooth and quick when he went close in on Wonder Woman’s mouth sealed against Don Corronado’s curly brown pubic hair, her lips clamped against his joint like a cat holding a mouse. The microphones were incredible, too, picking up the softest sighs, the lusty grunts and the mewling whines of pleasure as the one and only Supergirl was flattened against the wall and fucked silly, loving every second of it.

Yes, Carlo knew he’d done well to get all the angles he could from every available vantage point. Now came the tough part: the editing. But not yet, he thinks. There’s probably still more to come. The younger Italian stud, Fabio, hadn’t cum yet and he knew that man wouldn’t leave this penthouse before he hosed either that blonde super slut somehow or nailed Wonder Skank.

Carlo slugged down a small bottle of energy drink and chased it with a gulp of Wild Cherry Pepsi and a ripping tear at the fast food spicy chicken breast. He was starving and the chicken wasn’t even hot anymore nor the soda cold but he didn’t care. His loud Hawaiian shirt was damp with sweat even though the control room was air conditioned. He settles back in his leather chair, swallows the chicken and then takes a deep breath.

It looks like Wonder Woman and the don are about to go at it again. And then Carlo sees on the monitor that Fabio has left Supergirl lying up curled on the rug in exhaustion. The young mobster is heading across the room to the couch where Wonder Woman and Don Corronado are getting frisky there after ten minutes of petting and fondling as they entwined together on the soft leather cushions.

This was getting interesting. Carlo rolls his chair closer to the control board, his hands poised over it like a conductor about to rap his baton and start up the orchestra. The young video magician’s eyes check the monitors for all the angles, likes every one but #5 which he swings around toward the couch for a better shot. He glances at # 7 which is set on Supergirl’s tired curled body and flips a switch for automatic mode that will employ laser guidance to track her every movement. Now he’s ready to record everything. He smile stretches widely across his face. What a fucking fabulous job!


* * *


Diana feels flushed and excited as Silvio pushes her breasts together and nips gently at her nipples through the rubber sheathing, teasing her to a breathy gasp with his gleaming white teeth. His follow-up licking by his circling tongue is titillating her somewhat but then shifts into anxious frustration at the lack of ultimate sensation. The thin rubber barrier is blocking the full effects of Silvio’s efforts.

“Damn this rubber prison. It’s driving me insane,” whines Wonder Woman. “I can feel your teeth but not the tongue enough. I want to feel the tongue more. Please let me take it off, Silvio.”

“No can do, my pet. I’m enjoying the feel of you wrapped up like a shiny doll.”

He presses the heel of his palm directly against Wonder Woman’s crotch and rubs her pussy vigorously, the blue rubber with its clear stars shifting back and forth with slippery ease thanks to all of Diana’s perspiration oozing out of her within the tightly confining rubber.

“Mmmmm,” she purrs. “That I can feel!”

“And can you feel this, Wonder Woman?” From behind her and overhead, Diana hears Fabio’s tenor voice first then feels his hands clutch her butt cheeks and roll them like large mounds of pliable pizza dough. Around and around he shapes her comely rear end, his thumbs working hard from underneath and his fingers pressing and sliding, pressing and sliding over the upper curves of the Amazon’s mighty glutes.

“And why do I enjoy such devoted attention from you now, Fabio?” Diana savors the sensation of the man’s powerful hands as he squeezes and fondles her ass. She unashamedly enjoys the extra attention. As Silvio goes to her chest with his two hands and mauls and gropes her honeydews, the Amazon Princess is suddenly glowing with delight at all this devoted massaging of her toned body.

“Apparently I wore out your friend Supergirl over there,” Fabio says, kneeling on the edge of the couch. “I was a little surprised at how quickly her energy waned. I didn’t think I was that good.” The mafia associate continues his plying of the shapely rear end clad in blue rubber that sticks up from the couch at him. The wide mounds seemingly entreat his continuing caresses.

“I can’t say how good you are. If Kara’s moans and squeals and grunts are any testament, it sounds like you pleased her very much. But it’s not...WHAA...Great Hera, you really are quite good!...What was I saying? Oh, yes, it’s not entirely your energetic pounding away at Supergirl’s treasures over there that made her so tired. That little green choker is keeping her weak. Otherwise, you’d be a very badly broken man, I assure you. You have no real idea of that girl’s strength when it’s not curtailed.”

“Guess I’m a lucky man then. And what’s your weakness, Wonder Woman? What keeps you from breaking me and Silvio here? Since when does a superheroine like you let yourself be groped and mauled and used like a plaything?” At this Fabio digs his forefinger deeply between Wonder Woman’s cheeks and probes her balloon knot with such fierce intensity that it powers past the rubber sheathing, pokes a hole in the suit and drives two inches deep into her rectum.

“HOHHH!” The raven-haired heroine’s body bucks against Silvio as the shockingly erotic penetration of her moist asshole jerks her to a whole new level of pleasure. Prying her cheeks apart with one hand, Fabio drives his finger another two inches into Wonder Woman’s ass and slowly twists it back and forth.

“...uh..huh...huh...huh...” The mighty Amazon warrior stutters with grunting delight at Fabio’s finger work even as her heaving breasts are bobbled and squeezed and rubbed briskly by a single-minded Silvio. “....so....so...nice...” she moans as her body shimmies with sexual tension.

“If you think that’s nice, you’re going to love this, Blackie,” chuckles Fabio as he one-handedly unzips his fly and whips out his ramrod pecker. His other hand is still buried in the smiling heroine’s ass, slowly twisting there, left to right turn, right to left turn, over and over and then the finger withdraws. Then it returns with vigor and delves deep, withdraws and delves deeper. Wonder Woman’s eyelids flutter with the sensation of this delicious anal probing. Lying beneath her, Silvio takes control of her head with both hands and pulls it down close to his. He plants a soft energetic kiss on her sweet lips and after a moment of warm contact, she parts them and joins tongues with the good-looking mafia don.

“Mmmllhhh....uhhlllllffff.....errhhhhmmmmm....” Wonder Woman’s hands now hold Silvio’s head and the two faces are locked to each other by their searching, hungry mouths. Exploring each other with their tongues, their pressing lips, their lowered and raised heads, the couple is lost in the throes of oral frenzy. Diana doesn’t even realize the finger in her ass has been withdrawn momentarily.

And then she does! Fabio’s rigid love pole spears between her butt cheeks and presses a good three inches into her rear. Diana’s eyes go wide before Silvio’s amused face as the famous Amazon princess is easily rear-ended by his lieutenant.

“HHMMFFFF!” A breathy gasp explodes between Diana’s lips. Her ass is stretched much wider by the head of Fabio’s penis than his finger. But as it throbs hotly within her, Diana feels the full pleasure of her stretched rectum and sighs softly.

Then Fabio’s cock moves forward, pushing deeper into her cavity with hot slippery need. He is so hard and she is now so wet that the pole moves through the doorway of her anus with little effort. Fabio pushes steadily on and his cock fills Wonder Woman’s ass with its manly glow.

Bewitched and deviled by all this pleasure, the black haired wonder sags in Silvio’s arms, dizzy with delight. And still Fabio plows a deeper furrow within the Amazon champion’s rear.

“...sweet Aphrodite’s bush....i.....that’s....you’re....fine....”

“You never answered my question, Wonder Woman. Why give yourself to us like this?”

“...too much...”

“My cock?” Fabio holds himself steady, his throbbing tool buried nearly to the hilt. Two more inches and his balls will be buried deep in Wonder Woman’s ass-crack. He savors the heat of her body tightly encasing his engorged prick. This bitch was fabulous. Meaty, willing and sensitive. He’s hit the trifecta of sexual pleasure. Actually, both these cunts were unbelievable. Silvio had actually been right on the money this time. Fabio’s experiencing the most incredibly erotic and sensual night of his life. He breathes slowly as he waits for a long-coming reply from the dazed Wonder Woman.

“...not...your cock... Everything else. Talk to Silvio. Told him why....while Kara was playing with your dick.” Diana then whispers her next phrase with a pleading tone. “...more cock...fabulous Fabio....please.. And you too Silvio. Do me. Both. Do me.”

If I’m going to behave the whore. Should at least enjoy it. Stupid not to.

Silvio is more than ready to comply. Having this beautiful heroine’s world-class body squirming against his chest and pelvis and legs with lusty, shivering joy while Fabio butt-fucked her to a befuddled mess was more than he can take at this point. He grabs the crotch flap on the rubber suit and yanks it open. Streams of Amazon sweat and strongly scented sexual desire drain all over the crotch of his suit pants but he doesn’t give a damn about that. Hell, it’ll help lubricate everything. Pulling out his rigid schlong, an eager Silvio centers the mushroom head against Wonder Woman’s moist curly-haired pussy and pushes himself slowly forward into its damp recesses. As the tip of his cock presses into her opening, the delighted Amazon shudders and utters a breathy welcoming purr.

“...yesssssss....”

Silvio eagerly pushes on, the width of him stretching Diana’s vaginal walls apart with steady exciting friction.

“....s’nice....” she murmurs, fulfilled by two big dicks.

From behind, Fabio presses his own tool the final two inches and he is buried as deep as he can go in Wonder Woman’s hot, tight tush.

“...ooooohhhh....” Cooing now from the double-shafted Wonder Woman whose eyes listlessly drape half open with heady bliss.

And Silvio drives his penis yet deeper into the sweaty loins of the famous representative from Themyscira. And the beautiful woman simply luxuriates in the sensation of two powerful penises plowing her fields. Front and back the pulsing lengths of male rigidity fill Diana with complete satisfaction. Having two real men penetrating her at once is a rare and wonderful treat.

Then, when Silvio finally buries his tool to its full length inside this amazing woman, he savors the thrill of her tight heat encompassing him, welcoming him, pulsing around him with slow, repetitive contractions of her inner muscles. Fabio too feels these tightening and loosening sensations and the two men can feel the hardness of each other through the membranes and walls of Wonder Woman’s body.

After a few seconds pause, as if on signal, both men begin to pull out of Wonder Woman’s cavities until only the tips of their tools remain in her holes. But a fraction of a second later, both men thrust forward, filling both tunnels with rock-hard fleshy shafts that slide along their sides with quick friction that pops Wonder Woman’s eyes open wide and forces a hard grunt right out of her.

“GHHUHHHH.....ooohhhhhhhh.”

And the double shafting then begins in earnest as both men thrust and withdraw within Wonder Woman’s ass and pussy again and again. Demons unleashed, the two men saw their cocks in and out of Wonder Woman’s body like men possessed. Bumped and jostled like a rag doll, the exultant Princess of Themyscira focuses all her attention on her two holes, relishing the driving pleasures as both men fill her over and over and over. Hands all over her are mauling her breasts, teasing her nipples, gripping her thighs and gently slapping her butt cheeks, heightening her pleasure beyond her bounds of reason.

There’s no figuring the rhythms here as her two paramours stroke and fondle and thrust and writhe against her in a melee of bodily sensations that drive all thought from Diana’s head.

In and out, in and out from both holes the mighty penises plow her. Sudden tickles overwhelm her. Unexpected love bites arouse her. Fluttering fingers at her clit inflame her. She is swept away by this maelstrom of unrelenting sensation.

“...this isn’t....i..can’t....we...shouldn’t...OHHH... I never... wait now... you mustn’t...”

Wonder Woman is a stuttering, mumbling, helplessly bewildered boiling cauldron of emotions and sensations. Two steel-hard, relentlessly driving pricks, four roaming clutching squeezing hands, two searching inventive mouths and more than 360 pounds of male dominance pin Wonder Woman in place and fry her mind with sizzling erotic overload.

The driving cocks within her are finally too, too much. Her pussy and ass seize the two driving penis pistons in a hard, clamping spasm of overwhelming joy and Diana’s orgasm explodes through her with a concussion of sensation that obliterates her thoughts.

“AIEEYAAAHHHH!”

Her body shivers and shakes violently, barely contained by all the surrounding rubber. Her loins gush with her cum, tributaries of it merging on her thighs, dripping down her legs, filling the space between her toes as she bucks and writhes between the two men. This wildcat between them is gyrating and pulsing and shimmying so hard that neither man can hold his own pleasure back a second longer and both men send jets of hot semen deep into Wonder Woman’s innermost caves. This double sensation sets off a second mighty orgasm and more juices and more cum mix and drizzle, slip and drain out of the famous heroine’s holes like a zen fountain gone mad.

“HUNNHHH” Silvio groans loudly.

“YEAHHHH!” Fabio shouts even more so.

“...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh....” Wonder Woman exhales delightedly.

All three figures remain entwined and inert for a good two minutes, breathing deeply, moaning softly and sighing with satisfaction before they finally disentangle from each other, voiceless in their separate ecstasies.

Inside the control room, it seems that Carlo, during the conscientious and dedicated execution of his job, has hosed his underwear with semen. Look ma! No hands!

These things happen.

* * *

Tony takes a long slow swallow of Chivas Regal from the heavy tumbler in his hand and rolls the liquor around slowly in his mouth, enjoying the numbing tasty sensation of a quality drink.

He’d gotten a hurried call from Carmine which told him little and left him concerned. Something about Lupenzo. But it had sounded like Carm had said Frankie, not Gino. There had been trouble nearby. Carmine would be back in a couple of minutes to lay it all out.

Lay what out? What trouble has reared its nasty head now. Even when things finally seemed to be calming down.

Another swallow from the glass and Tony waits for his mentor to arrive and deliver what he’s sure will be bad news.
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Trouble All Around
Part 64



When Carmine walks out of the elevator into Tony’s suite one floor below the penthouse where Supergirl and Wonder Woman are entertaining their mob guests, the young don knows just by the way his mentor’s shoulders are slumped that things have taken a bad turn.

“What happened, Carm?” Tony takes a small sip of scotch as the older man gathers his thoughts together. Carmine calmly stands before his protege seated on the long leather sectional and makes his report.

“I killed Frankie Lupenzo at the Top Hat bar just now. He pulled a piece on me. I didn’t have much of a choice. The bartender Eddie told me Frankie was trying to muscle in on our turf. No doubt Gino’s thinking to take advantage of all our distraction while gaining a little revenge for what Supergirl did to his headquarters.”

“Any witnesses besides the bartender?”

“Couple a’ kids. Eddie thinks the boy’s cool. The girl was spooked and might spill about the thing. They both saw me shoot Frankie but Eddie was damn quick on his feet, calling me an undercover cop and that Frankie was trying to rob me. Story might hold with the boy who might be able to convince the girl to keep quiet.”

“A lot of ‘mights’ in that sentence.” Tony swirls the brown booze around the clicking ice cubes thoughtfully.

“The cleaning crew should be done by now. Frankie will be under the Meadowlands in less than an hour. Gino’s not so close to Frankie but he’ll come after us when his brother comes up missing after a day.”

“They’ll go after the bartender if Frankie checked in tonight before you got to the bar.”

“Yeah, and Eddie can’t be sure about that. He was downstairs getting a keg and calling me about Frankie. I’m not sure if he checked in with Gino or not.”

“How’d you leave it with Eddie?”

“For now,” Carmine sighs, “he knows the bar will be his free and clear for all he’s done for us. The owner should sell it to us in a couple of days. I made him a generous cash offer and I think he’s gonna take it. So Eddie won’t talk unless Gino puts the screws to him. I think we should put one of our guys in the bar for a couple of days to keep an eye on things. Guiseppi is a cool head at this kind of thing. He’s with the cleaning crew now. I’ll phone him and tell him to get back to the Top Hat once he’s done burying Frankie.”

“Good,” Tony nods, then finishes his scotch with a tilt of the tumbler and a healthy swallow of the smooth liquor. He sets the glass on the coffee table before him, stands up and claps Carmine on the shoulder.

“Did you go in there thinking to ice Frankie right off the bat?”

“Honestly, Tony, not really. Sure, I was hot about the arrogance of them trying to muscle in, and I did have my piece out and ready but that was just good sense. I had the drop on Frankie and he was dumb enough to challenge me. Guy always was a blowhard and a moron. Even when I was friends with Gino back in the day, Frankie was an annoying asshole tagging along with his brother. Gino, like I said, never was close but still, it’s a family thing and he’ll have to respond. I just don’t know how or when.”

“Well, we’re already pretty buttoned down these days. Not much more we can do except be careful when we’re out and about.”

“Yup,” Gino nods. “You mind if I have a drink now?”

“Finish the bottle,” Tony smiles. “It’s been a long day.”

“No shit!” Carmine tips the crystal decanter and fills his glass with the last of its contents then slugs down the generous amount of scotch in one quick gulp.


* * *


One floor above, Supergirl stirs from her dozing reverie. Clad entirely in a tight hot rubber catsuit, the blonde teenager is sweaty and dazed from an exhausting session of energetic sex with what was his name...oh yeah, Fabio.

She looks over to see Diana lying on the couch on top of a snoozing Silvio. Fabio is not around. Maybe he’s in the bathroom, thinks Kara who gets to her feet slowly. She’s a bit shaky in the legs from the sex as well as the glowing kryptonite collar. She puts her hand on the wall to steady herself, her head down as she takes a long breath that expands her chest to the max. Her ample breasts strain against the smooth rubber and stretching out the famous “S” insignia to its fullest. Her knees wobble slightly causing the hanging rubber crotch flap to flutter against her inner thighs. The world famous champion bends over at the waist, reaches down and seals up her pussy inside the clinging rubber suit for now, even though it’ll probably be pulled open in a few minutes. She smooths down the thin red plastic skirt but her tufted blonde bush is still clearly visible through the layers of thin red rubber. The way the material clings creates a noticeable camel toe.

“You okay?” Diana tilts her head up to look at Kara, the black hair splayed over Silvio’s silky silver shirt. Diana’s blue eyes are filled with loving concern for her heroic friend.

“I’m good. A little saddle sore from Mr. Rough Rider. Where is our young stud?”

“Draining the lizard, I guess,” Wonder Woman answers.

“I never heard you talk like that, Di,” giggles Kara. “You’re always so formal.”

“Yeah, well. When in Rome....” sighs the Themysciran beauty.

“Now those Romans really knew how to throw an orgy,” Silvio says, coming awake with the girl’s chatter. “My ancestors wrote the book on great sex parties. Although this one’s not half bad in my book.”

“What’s not half bad,” asks Fabio returning coming out of the hallway from the bathroom.

“Our little sex party, Fab,” replies Supergirl from her position with her palm braced against the wall, elbow locked.

“You look a little beat, blondie. Not used to my brand of loving, huh?”

“This collar’s turned up a little too high, I think. HEY STEVIE, COULD YOU LOWER THE LEVEL ON THIS THING!” Kara shouts, frantic as she realizes her growing dilemma. She was feeling very dizzy.

“Stevie’s gone, Kara,” Wonder Woman whispers, alarmed at her friend’s muddled thinking. The collar definitely must be set too high, the cumulative effect of the glowing element was taking a nasty toll on her friend.

“SERGEI! LOWER KARA’S COLLAR,” Wonder Woman yells.

“Uhm...Sergei’s not here right now,” comes a disembodied voice from a ceiling speaker.

“Well, get him here! Kara’s collar is set too high!” Wonder Woman barks. “She’s getting sick and our guests expect her to entertain them.”

“...uhhhh...who’s Kara?” The uncertain voice asks.

“JUST GET SERGEI, WHOEVER YOU ARE,” Wonder Woman screams.

Supergirl wavers in place now, her arm getting rubbery. She turns and leans with her back against the wall, using it to prop her up. Her knees set wide apart shake noticeably as they brace weakly against the carpet. Her head drops back on her shoulders and thumps softly against the wall.

“...ohhhh....” Supergirl moans softly, inundated with the draining radiation.

“Actually, I’m finding this very entertaining,” Fabio smirks. He’d heard about Supergirl and her weakness to kryptonite and this was a first-hand lesson that was pretty valuable he felt. He’d seen footage of this girl lifting a heavy Iraqui tank and tossing it into a river. Now she can barely stand up. In fact, right then, the blonde beauty slowly slides down the wall until she thumps down on the carpet and sits there in a stupor with her knees flopped apart, her crotch on display under that thin plastic skirt and her head nodding on her chest.

“...don’t feel well...” mumbles Kara.

“Look for some kind of control for her collar, curse you, you stupid incompetent!” Wonder Woman barks. “Check around for something labeled that will lower the level, damn it!” The Amazon warrior is furious at this ineptitude. She moves to get up to help Kara but Silvio grasps her tightly around the waist and holds Wonder Woman securely against his body.

“Settle down, Princess. It’ll be fine,” he says.

“I have to help....”

“You have to stay where you are. I’m sure Fabio is perfectly capable of helping her.”

“Absolutely,” the young mobster smiles widely as he saunters over toward the slouched blonde at the wall. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Feeling under the weather?”

“...please...ghet...Tony...or Carmine. ...someone...tah...help...” Supergirl murmurs, her chin tucked into her neck, her head dully bobbing.

“We don’t need anyone. You’ve got me, Supergirl,” says Fabio as he kneels down in front of the helpless hero. He then reaches over and palms the blonde’s right breast, squeezing it firmly as the rubber squeaks softly.

“...not now...” pleads Kara. “...let me..get better...then I’ll....ohhhh....”

The fingertips twisting her nipple inside the rubber draw a short gasp of pleasure from the bleary blonde champion.

“I don’t think you could get much better, sweet cakes. I like my women a bit befuddled. Tends to get past the inhibitions I think. And you, Supergirl, are pretty damn ditzy right now.”

“...wait...am...willing...but....juss wait...please...”

“Nope.” Fabio continues to fondle Supergirl’s breast as his other hand grasps the flap and roughly tugs it open, the seal pulling away neatly and rivulets of sweat drizzling out onto the carpet.


Fabio puts his fingers into the wet crease of Supergirl’s labia and strokes her firmly there.

“Aaaahhhh!” She gasps as the stimulation breaks through her weariness. She picks her head up a bit and looks at Fabio from under heavy brows.

“...yhur....a...bahstard....” she mumbles.

“Just the kind of bastard you need, Super bitch!” His straight hard fingers probe and thrust at Supergirl’s vagina now, sawing in and out even as he continues to maul her breasts, squeezing back and forth between the pair of heavy orbs sagging within the tight rubber confines.

“....ooohhhh...ahhh....whooaaaa....” The two hands steadily stimulate the dazed blonde, drawing more moisture to her crotch and clouding the suit with her perspiration.

“You’re getting me hard, Supergirl. And judging by the slickness of this creamy cunt of yours, the feeling’s mutual.”

“.....whoozy....but....yes...” she replies. And then Fabio twists her nipple particularly roughly causing the blonde teen to gasp in a mix of pleasure and pain. Fabio’s mouth suddenly seals on the parted pink lips and his tongue delves into the dazed heroine’s open mouth. The twisting, probing tongue engages hers and she mindlessly responds, her pleasure swamping her reason. The french kiss lasts and lasts, the pleasure they both feel spiraling upward. Soft mewing coos issue from Supergirl’s throat as the combination of the kiss and Fabio’s unrelenting hands bring her to a new level of horniness. She tries to break away from him, but the hand on her breast suddenly clasps around the back of her skull and he holds her head firmly as his tongue wrestles her own and his fingers in between her legs continues to stir her to new heights of delirious pleasure.

“Mmmmfff......hrrrrrrhhhh.....”

And then Fabio releases her head and pulls his hand out of her sopping wet snatch.

A surprised Supergirl has time to issue a sudden throaty “...whaa...?” before she has her legs summarily yanked forward so she’s pulled flat onto her back. And then Fabio grabs her hips and flips the Maid of Steel on her stomach.

“....Ohhh!” is all she can say as she feels the rubber crotch flap flipped up so it smacks into the small of her back. And then two hands mold themselves to her buttocks and pull them apart. A mere second later, the sensation of a hot fleshy rod pressing against her anus is followed by the immediate penetration of that tool deep within her rear end.

“GHUUUHNNN!”

Sodomized! Supergirl couldn’t believe it could happen so quickly. So easily. She must be really wet down there. All over.

Next thing she realizes Fabio’s hands are grasping her tits and he’s pumping away at her ass. The hard hot rod is thrusting in and out of her rear and the pleasure of it is undeniable.

“...Huuhhhh....rao....that’s....ohhhh....goooood.....”

Supergirl’s head droops from her shoulders, bumping up and down as Fabio’s rapid rhythm in her rear shakes her whole body. Her cheeks jiggle and bounce within the tight rubber as Fabio has his easy way with her. In and out, in and out, his hard shaft fills and withdraws from her rear with endless friction that swells the pleasure within the blasted blonde’s head.

“....eehhhhhhh.....ohhhhhh.....yessssss.....”

“Even superheroes like a good butt-fucking now and then. Am I right, Supergirl?”

The relentless shafting between her soft bouncing cheeks is now driving all the power of speech from the famous teen. The wide shaft strokes into her anal passage over and over and over. An orgasm is more than possible here. There’s just so much heat and friction down there. Suddenly the hands leave her breasts. One arm wraps around her throat, cradling her head in the crook of Fabio’s elbow. The other hand palms her twat, the middle finger sliding deep within her pussy.

“OOOOHH!”

The finger rotates slowly in her snatch as Fabio continues to hump away at the prone figure pressed hard into the carpet. The mounting pleasure of the panting couple is obvious as the cameras capture Supergirl’s thumping toes, Fabio’s hard grunts and the steady chorus of squeaks from strained rubber as the blonde teen’s body is helplessly jostled and pushed and rocked in the hold of the masterful humping Italian mobster.

Over on the couch, Wonder Woman remains firmly held in Silvio’s grasp as her friend is corn-holed to within an inch of her reason. But Diana has learned her lesson at last and does not even squirm now as she and Silvio spoon on the couch, he behind her with his hard dick simply held between her rubber-clad thighs. She feels the warmth of him and his engorging cock as they witness the anal domination of the world’s once most mightiest blonde.

Supergirl is dazed and helpless and filled with delirious ecstacy as Fabio’s middle finger caresses round and round her vagina even as his rock hard dick pistons within her ass. Her neck is wrapped by Fabio’s sweaty elbow, her eyes are half open, unseeing and glazed. Her slack mouth drips with a line of drool as her orgasm comes so close. She feels the palm of Fabio’s hand clasp around the back of her neck, getting a final complete grip as he bears down with his jerking hips and his sawing finger.

In and out, in and out, both holes are thoroughly stimulated while the overwhelmed teen is held in place, unmoving except for the reactions of her trembling, quaking form from the relentless thrusting of the dominating man pressing against her. Taking her. Possessing her completely. Owning her. The friction tips over into pure white ecstacy and Supergirl squeals out a long impassioned cry of absolute delight.

“AAAIEEEEEEYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

Even Fabio is overwhelmed by the pleasure of this girl’s tight gripping ass, her soft beautiful form held rigidly in his grasp. He hoses her rear end with a steaming jet of hot cum. It spews within her with a seemingly endless supply of ball juice. Supergirl’s body is rigid with pleasure as she feels his seed needling deep within her rear. She spasms with a secondary aftershock, her warm body a mass of jiggling flesh within the rubber suit.

The soundless Fabio simply holds his comely prize tightly as he luxuriates in the spurting spasms of his cock’s final offerings. The pleasure drowning him with sleepy insistence.

“AAHHH!” He finally moans, pleased with everything he’s accomplished here tonight. Even now, he knows his indebtedness to Silvio for this night will never be forgotten and can never be fully repaid. And he is okay with that.

Within the confines of the control room, Carlo Pastore finally sees a small blue lever far to the right of the control panel. Labeled “Collar Dampener”he pulls it back to its lowest setting, not off but at 2 out of 15. Just then the control room door opens and Sergio walks in.

“Everything is good, nyet?”
“Everything is great,” Carlo beams. “A little trouble with Supergirl’s collar but it didn’t seem to matter that much.”
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A Matter Of Honor
Part 65 – A


The scene in the penthouse suite in the Pleasure Dome for the remainder of that Tuesday evening was a loud, energetic and completely unrestrained demonstration of sexual debauchery. Don Silvio Corronado and his lieutenant Fabio Albanese were treated to a wide range of carnal delights from the two famous female champions. There was no whining from either Wonder Woman or Supergirl: no complaining, no hesitancy or reluctance. The two paragons of justice did as they were told: sucking, fucking, teasing and pleasing in any way that they were asked.

Once the kryptonite collar had been turned down to a level that simply weakened Supergirl without making her sick and groggy, she promptly responded by trading partners with Wonder Woman as commanded by Silvio. She hoisted her athletic, graceful rubber-suited figure on the hard cock that Silvio had achieved from spooning with Diana and, after slowly, teasingly lowering herself onto the thick warm pole, dutifully rocked and bumped on his lap. Silvio simply lied on the couch and enjoyed watching the lithe blonde’s tear-drop tits bounce vigorously up and down within the tight rubber catsuit while he held her haunches.

The blonde that the world had once idolized as its moral compass bumped up and down on his rod with a zesty willingness that surprised and pleased Silvio to no end. The sexy teen heroine, her hair swaying back and forth in blonde waves in rhythm with her nodding head and humping figure, proved to him that the DVD series of her was no fluke or slight of hand. When properly stimulated and directed, the wholesome, perfect Supergirl was quite the raunchy sex kitten.

She rocked and ground her pelvis against his own, Silvio’s cock appearing and disappearing again and again within the warm, wet channel between Supergirl’s heavenly thighs. Finally, helpless with pleasure, Don Corronado shot his load into the moaning teen with a howl of joy. He came and came within her, the spasms unrelenting and dizzying in their totality. Afterward, the one and only Supergirl obediently climbed off, put her head in his lap and licked his cock clean when told to do so.

He couldn’t help spraying a burst of leftover joy in her surprised face as she licked him. But she simply looked up in surprise as a cum string drooped lazily off her eyebrow and onto her cheek before dropping down onto his naked pelvis. She just went back to work, cleaning him without a hint of protest. When asked by Silvio, “What do you say?” The cum-breathed blonde heroine simply murmured a hesitant but obedient “Thank you?”

Over on the other side of the living room in the meantime, Wonder Woman had been ordered to get on all fours by Fabio which she did. He eagerly thrust into her wet, promptly proffered pussy with glee. The young stud gave it to her doggy style, holding tightly onto Diana’s wide blue rubber-clad buttocks with it’s clear stars gleaming in the overhead track lighting. He thrust in and out of the rocking Amazon for a good ten minutes until she collapsed on her forearms in dazed delight.

Despite her cool reputation, with Fabio’s hot, pulsing nine-inch wide tool driving in and out of her tight vagina with constant joyous friction, the black-haired Princess noisily howled with pleasure. Fabio savored the exquisite pleasure of hosing the Champion of All Women until she dripped with his cum. It oozed out from between her thighs, gathered around the edges of his throbbing cock and dripped like a slow, leaky faucet, falling to the carpet even as Wonder Woman’s face was buried in the rug a couple of feet away, moaning with muffled delight after her total capitulation to her ecstasy. Her sweaty toes, encased in pale red rubber painted on boots, squirmed and wriggled reflexively in the nap of the sea foam-colored rug.

After that, there were combinations and permutations of the foursome in a wide array of positions. The two heroines were commanded to French kiss each other while they were held tightly by their rubber-sheathed breasts and taken from behind by the two Mafia hoods. The girls were evidently quite shy about the long bout of forced kissing while seemingly unperturbed whatsoever by the ten-minute long dual ass-reaming.

That’s strange, Silvio pondered moments before he came for the fourth time that night to a chirping chorus of squeaking rubber, the mighty Wonder Woman held tightly in his arms. Supergirl’s head nodded mindlessly, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure as Fabio clamped her body against his and hosed her butthole with hot jetting jizz.

At another point in the evening, following a round of drinks and caviar, Supergirl was ordered to get on all fours under a standing Fabio. She was challenged to try to lick his balls while the energetic mobster fucked Wonder Woman against the living room wall. The powerful hoodlum pinned the Amazon’s wrists to the hard surface, his palms wrapped around the pale yellow painted-on bracelets, while his cock thrust in and out of her damp pussy even as the mighty Maid of Steel tried to capture his wildly swinging ball sack with her tongue and failing that, her mouth. Supergirl’s attention was being heavily compromised at the time not only by the wildly swaying plastic crotch flap of Diana’s rubber catsuit, but also by Silvio’s eagerly pistoning prick driving back and forth within the depths of the Maid of Might’s magnificent muff. In the end, everyone got off in loud groaning yells of long-cumming sexual release.

Throughout the long night, Carlo Pastore dutifully captured every sexual escapade, every glazed look on the obedient young heroines, every stuttering moan of the ecstatic beauties, every leering grin between the two men as they had their way with the famous pair of thoroughly desecrated Champions of Right.

For the final indignity of the night, the two celebrated guardians of justice allowed themselves to be heavily dosed with their drugs of choice. Sergei had suggested over the speaker system that the girl’s might want their drugs, it having been hours since their last hits. Nodding eagerly, both Supergirl and Wonder Woman immediately replied with a simultaneous “YES!”

But when Sergei brought out the drugs, he handed them to the men instead.

“What say we are letting the gentlemen have the pleasure of giving you your drugs this evening,” the Russian suggested with cold affirmation that brooked no argument. And with that, he departed back through a locked door that led to the control room.

Played out to a bone-weary tiredness by all the sex, the two champions merely looked at each other, recalled their pact and shrugged. What was one more humiliation at this point?

Silvio heated up the heroin to a bubbling broth using a fancy lighter and a specially-designed metal platform with beautiful scroll-work around the edges. No bent spoon and matches for this expensive evening, Tony had thought of everything. Drawing the powerful potion of Istanbul Express into the syringe, Silvio then held it aloft, tapped it and squirted the merest hint of it out to ensure no bubbles. He saw the hunted eyes and moistened lips of the Amazon as she licked them eagerly, watching Silvio’s every move.

“Tony’s really got his hooks in you, Amazon, doesn’t he?”

Meeting his eyes with the first honest look in the entire evening, Diana nodded and replied sullenly, “Yes, by Hera, I’d say he does. Now shoot me up, Silvio. I want to go away. I want to not care.”

“My pleasure, Princess.” Silvio pressed the point of the syringe into the crook of Wonder Woman’s arm so avidly presented before him. It pierced the skin, the plunger was pushed forward and the debilitating potion was pressed slowly and steadily into the heroine’s body. Rocketing with amazing speed through her blood, it was only seconds before the lush head of wavy black hair collapsed against the back of the couch and Wonder Woman’s mouth slackened into dopey pleasure and her eyes drifted away into a world where nothing much mattered at all.

The resultant final harsh fucking by Silvio with her ankles held high, her back sunk into the couch and her body jolted back and forth barely even registered in the Amazon’s clouded brain. Just another orgasm. Just another small humiliation. Just another violation to add to the list. Under the influence of the mind-numbing heroin, Wonder Woman could care less.

When Silvio finally walked away from the mighty Amazon warrior to take his shower, Diana was almost in the same position he found her when first entering the suite that evening. She was sprawled out on the couch with her legs spread wide open and her body wrapped in a humiliating rubber catsuit that made of mockery of her famous costume. Except now, Wonder Woman’s rubber catsuit was misty with her sweat that pooled in a small reservoir of plastic under her ass and ran in rivulets along the creases of leather in the couch. Her crotch, blatantly exposed with the rubber suit’s crotch flap hanging over the front edge of the couch, was thick with the shimmery white gel of Silvio’s and Fabio’s semen. It slowly oozed through her raw pink pussy lips as well as from her hidden sorely-stretched asshole. The Champion of All Women’s mouth was slack with dopey incoherence from the powerful heroin blunting her brain. Oblivious to her complete degradation, the mighty Wonder Woman breathed slowly, her massive breasts rising and falling in slow, rhythm, her eyes rolled up under her lids in blissful stupidity.

For Supergirl it was much the same. Ordered to sit on her hands, she had been forced to inhale the potent gray smoke from the bright orange glass crack pipe held to her face by Fabio. Obediently, she leaned forward and clasped her lips on the mouth of the pipe and drew in long and hard, filling her lungs with the highly potent Vanilla Pudding. She released the cloud of crack heaven into the air with a dizzy smirk and seven seconds later, Supergirl, too, was slumped low in the cushy armchair. Her head nodded on her chest, her breasts slowly expanded within the cloudy rubber suit, dense with her own perspiration and heavy, musky scent.

Fabio took his cue from his boss and hoisted the Maid of Steel’s legs high in the air, pulled her a bit forward and screwed her good. The thrusting hot pole felt amazing to the famous blonde champion as it drove into her gaping wet pussy again and again until she could stand no more. The teen champion squealed loudly with her final pleasure of the night as her honor, her dignity and her reputation were ground to pulp in the throes of her own blasting orgasm and from Fabio’s dominating semen-spurting cock. The camera doesn’t lie.

Supergirl was also left virtually as she was found, her legs draped over the arms of the chair, her genitals open to the breeze, her blonde hair plastered to her sweaty face. Like Wonder Woman, the Maid of Steel’s pussy and ass dripped with thick, clumpy semen. It darkened the seat cushion as the mighty blonde hero sighed and drooled in a slack-jawed moronic daze. Used and abused to her lasting shame, Supergirl was far too high to understand the utmost depths of her dishonor.

Just before Silvio and Fabio left the apartment, Sergei handed them each a DVD.

“This is a record of your evening with us, gentlemen. I am hoping it was meeting with your approval?”

“Everything was perfect. Thank you, Sergei. And thank Tony for me.”

“Ditto,” Fabio echoed with a vigorous nod. The DVD was an unexpected bonus. He was thrilled.

“Here is a second DVD for you, Don Corronado. It is from your previous engagement with Wonder Woman. I apologize for the delay in delivery. We lost our previous editor and there were some scenes left unfinished.”

“I’d heard about your loss. My sympathies, Sergei. To you and Tony.”

“I know he is to be appreciating your condolences. I will to express them personally to him. Good night, gentlemen, and thank you for patronizing The Pleasure Dome.”

“It couldn’t be more aptly named, my friend,” Silvio smiled and brushed his short-cropped hair wet from his shower in the suite’s bathroom.

“Ditto,” Fabio said to a small smile from Sergio. “What a night,” he exclaimed as he pushed the elevator button and the doors slowly slid shut on their most memorable evening.


* * *


When Tony received a report from his accountant the next morning on just how much money the Wonder Woman DVD series was raking in, he promptly told the man to wire a deposit for $8 million to the Family General Fund. That would help keep the separate families on his side while further isolating Gino Lupenzo from his power base. Tony was all smiles for now.


* * *


A little later that morning, Carmine was shocked speechless in the middle of his discussion with Tony later when he looked down at his cell phone to see the name Gino Lupenzo come up on the screen.

Seeing his mentor go from a joking red face about the two girl’s exploits upstairs to a pale white one in the space of five seconds, alarmed Tony considerably. “Carmine, what the fuck is it?”

“It’s Gino,” the large mobster answered Tony after the second iteration of his new ring tone, Dean Martin singing the chorus of Amore.

“Well, answer it. He can’t shoot you through the phone.”

...like a big-a pizza pie, that’s amore...

“Yes?” Carmine was surprisingly tentative in his tone which Tony felt was a mistake.

“Carmine? It’s Gino.”

Pulling his act together quickly, Carmine gruffed up quickly.

“Yes, Gino. I’m surprised to hear from you. What can I do for you?” Carmine shrugged at Tony as he talked.

“First of all, I wanted to express to you and to Tony my deepest appreciation for the extremely generous donation you guys made to the Family General Fund.”

“You have excellent contacts as always Gino. That was made like, what Tony, 90 minutes ago?”

“I get an update on my cell when anything that substantial goes in. I am an officer in the bank, you know.”

“Ah yes,” smiles Carmine, relaxing somewhat. “Well, we’ve had a good month, turns out, so why not share the wealth, right, Gino? I mean, we’re all in the same business, after all.” Carmine winks at Tony at this.

“I’m so glad to hear you say that, Carmine. I think we forget that sometimes in our occasional foolish behavior caused by jealously or greed.”

“Is that an apology, Gino?” Carmine presses.

“Apology? No! A cold understanding of the reality of life: Yes.”

“What foolish behavior are we discussing, Don Lupenzo?”

“The matter of my headquarters. Of your associate being gunned down. These things are bad for business.”

“Not to be too blunt, Gino, but are you suggesting we make peace?”

“I should think that would be in everyone’s interest.”

“What brings on this sudden appreciation for the cold reality of life?”

“My dear brother has gone missing and I am concerned for not only his welfare but those who may have been involved.”

“Your brother? Frankie?”

“Yes, of course, you remember him, don’t you, Gino? He used to tag along with us when we were lifting dirty magazines from Dunzo’s corner store by stuffing them in our shirts?”

“I remember Frankie, of course, Gino. How long has he been gone?”

“Just since last night.”

“You sure he didn’t take off on a spree for Vegas. I remember how Frankie likes the Wheel.”

“I don’t believe this has anything to do with his passion for roulette. He would have let me know if he were going out of town. Actually, he was up in your neck of the woods, I believe, Carmine.”

“Up here? In the Bronx? Why would he be up here, Gino? That seems...peculiar... especially considering the recent...indiscretions between our two families.”

“Frankie doesn’t always think things through, Carmine. You must recall that.”

“Even for Frankie, that seems...ah... ill considered. You sure it was his idea?”

“Did you see him last night, Carmine?” The sudden coldness coming through the phone was palpable.

“I did not, Gino. But if I had I would have sent him home with a stern warning to stay out of dangerous territory. Until things are settled between you and Tony, it’s pure stupidity to be out wandering so away from safe ground, wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed. Which is why I want to sit down and talk with Tony face to face. Would you ask him what he thinks of that possibility, Carmine. He is there with you, I heard you say.”

“Actually he had to deal with some commotion in the casino so we’ll have to get back to you, Gino, on that issue.”

“Please do it as soon as possible, Carmine. We need to settle things. It’s a matter of honor. What’s more, things could get even more dangerous out there,” Gino threatens stonily and hangs up suddenly on Carmine who looks at his phone in shock. Gino is rarely that blunt. Or rude. Frankie’s disappearance has unnerved him.

Carmine looks at Tony who’s never left the room. Carmine simply wanted to give himself and Tony the chance to discuss the proposition calmly without Gino hanging by on the cell phone waiting for an answer.

Let the bastard stew a bit anyway, Carmine thinks. Sending his brother onto enemy turf like that. It was a dumb move by the usually level-headed Gino. Supergirl’s destruction of his headquarters and Tony’s subsequent extraction of her must have pissed off Gino to no end..

“Gino wants to set up a meet,” Carmine tells Tony. He’s learned Frankie’s gone missing and he even went so far as to admit his brother was up here, you must have deduced from my end.”

“Yup,” Tony says. “Gino wants to kill me. At the meeting. And I want to kill him. But we don’t have to rush into this right now. Stall him. Tell him we’re considering it and will let him know next week. I want to plan everything so it goes right.”

“You want me to call back now?”

“Not at all. Let him simmer in his own juices. Call him tomorrow at the earliest. Meanwhile, we’ve just topped $57 million in one weekend from the Wonder Woman DVDs. We’re celebrating tonight. Get everybody together, including the new kid, Carlo. From what I saw on the early cuts he sent down this morning, the kid’s a natural. Stevie sure knew what he was doing when he recommended him.”

Tony had stood up and gone over to the drop-down bar and poured himself a glass of Heineken. Now, hoisting it high he says, “To Stevie,” and downs a large gulp in the dead man’s honor.


* * *


Before Carmine even had the chance to call Gino back to stall him, the old Mafia don had shown his impatience with Tony by shooting one of his enforcers in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn. The heavy-set man had gone into a local gym to collect the weekly protection money when two men in gray suits walked out from the white-faced manager’s office and emptied a shotgun round each into Tony’s man from a mere three feet away.

Flying backwards, the bloody carcass ended up draped over a large Nautilus machine with his blood and guts scattered over five other machines in the area, not to mention several horrified, screaming patrons in gym shorts, leotards and, ultimately, puke. Tony found out about it on the evening news and retaliated later that evening by having one of Gino’s crew chiefs in Staten Island get his throat cut open during the 9:15 showing of the latest Jason Statham action film. The man was found with a bucketful of soggy, bloody popcorn in his lap when the lights came up. The feud between

Tony and Gino had intensified their hostilities, to say the least.

And it escalated with two more killings on each side by the end of the week. A hanging button man of Gino’s was discovered by joggers on Thursday morning in Prospect Park. Tony’s top manager of all the whorehouses in the area of the Grand Concourse in the Bronx was pushed in front of the #3 Uptown local during Thursday evening’s rush hour. The disgruntled passengers were none too happy about the delay in service.

On late Friday morning, another of Tony’s men, a mid-level drug dealer was found overdosed in a crack house just off the Moshulu Parkway. It was obviously a gangland shooting by the amount of bills stuffed into the man’s pockets and his tongue being removed. The other residents had to tell the cops about the money being there since it was long gone by the time they were called on the scene. The mumbling residents told the cops about the money but no one took credit for taking any of it. They just said others and wandered over and picked him clean. But, the cops were assured, it certainly was there at first, bulging out of this pockets in fat wads.

Friday evening concluded with a shooting in front of an expensive midtown Manhattan steakhouse where one of Gino’s lieutenants had just concluded his $500 meal of delicious steak au poivre and an exquisite beaujolais nouveau with a brutal knifing in the men’s room. A shocked 78-year old attendant dropped his cloth towels and “beat shoe leather” as they say while the dying man breathed his last phrase, “...and it was such a great meal..” to no one but the silent urinals.

His date, a lovely escort who’d been engaged for a full evening complete with sex in the Waldorf Astoria later on was forced to pay the tab and was most sincerely grumpy about the inconvenience.


* * *


That very night Tony took a call on his cell phone from New York City Police Captain Ryan O’Donnell who was argumentative and surly, an attitude he had rarely shown to the mob don over the years of their friendship.

“Dammit, Tony, things have gotten way out of hand, don’t you know,” the angry cop barked in his thick Irish brogue. “First we had ourselves a crime wave when Supergirl stopped patrolling the city and changed careers to be Super Slut. Then faith and begorrah if Wonder Woman herself doesn’t follow the ditzy blonde’s example of swallowing poles in every darlin’ orifice she can manage. And now, my saintly mother forgive my language, you fuckin’ mob guys are littering the streets with bodies left and right. People from City Hall to Albany to Washington are screaming in my ear and the Commissioner’s, too, for the last three days. It’s enough to try the patience of a saint, I tell you. And if you guys don’t settle your hash, they’ll be havin’ my job and then where will ye be without my protection?”

“Settle down, you dumb mick. This thing will...”

“Don’t you be tellin’ me to be settlin’ down, you greasy wop. I knew you when you were in knee pants. You’re no better ‘n me!”

“I’m just saying, Ryan, that this thing will be over in less than a week.”

“And how would you be knowin’ that, my dear Tony?”

“Because I’m going to end it.”

“By killing Gino Lupenzo I’d be thinkin,’ yes?”

“Nothing that drastic. We’re just going to meet and try to come to an agreement.”

“Sure ‘n I know how that’s likely to end,” scoffs O’Donnell. “With bullets flyin’ and more bodies.”

“Not if I can help it,” Tony replies.

“A week is a long time with people screaming in me ear, Tony. Can you do no better?”

“I’ll try Ryan. And I’ll hold my people off from their over-zealous behavior with Supergirl and Wonder Woman off the streets. Your crime wave won’t be surging from my end of things.”

“Well, that’ll be a start. There were fifteen store robberies this week alone. And two dozen muggings. And the hookers are so thick on the streets you have to turn sideways just to get through ‘em without catchin’ the clap!”

“Do they even have clap anymore?” Tony tries to joke his boyhood friend out of his foul humor. “I thought it was high-grade STDs these days.”

“Hey, there’s nothin’ wrong with a respectable case of the clap. Don’t be looking down on the classics, me boy,” the police captain replies, lightening up a bit.

“Hold the fort the best you can, Ryan. Stall the reporters and Albany and the mayor. This thing will be over soon. Create a fuckin’ task force or something. Make it look like your making headway.”

“I don’t think I need you to be tellin’ me how to be conductin’ me business, laddie,” growls O’Donnell. “Just get your end of things settled fast before I’m forced to make a move I don’t want to make.”

“That sounds very close to a threat, Ry.”

“If you and your pal Gino don’t stop killing your business associates, it’ll be out of me hands, Tony. That’s not a threat. That’s a fact. And you be knowin’ it better than I do, for sure.”

“Fine, Ryan. I’ll handle it ASAP.”

“Thank you, Tony. And thanks for the donation to the Widows and Orphans fund.”

“Both chapters?”

“Aye, both chapters received their checks. I’ve got to go now. The mayor of Gotham is in a snit about Batman or some other such shite! What a creepy hero that crazy bastard is, eh?”

“I’m glad he doesn’t call New York his home. I hear he’s incorruptible.”

“Poor Mayor Gordon, the old fart!”

“Later, Ry,” Tony says snapping his phone shut.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Well that was certainly an ordeal for the girls these past few chapters. Wonder how long there pact of non resistance will/can last with no rescue seemingly coming from police, who are in the mobs pocket or there fellow capes who don't appear to be in a hurry to track the missing supers down and liberate them. With the drug and sex addictions both women had afflicted on them along with the psychological trauma and the constant violence they endured its no surprise that they would choose to just go with the flow and accept the humiliation to avoid what Sergie and the others could put them through.

Maybe the chance to escape could come from the infighting in the Mob and there current captor is dealt a big enough blow that they could slip through the cracks and run away. Wonder what Batman would have to say to them if they get out and ask where he was lol.
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TaliaAlGhul101 wrote: Maybe the chance to escape could come from the infighting in the Mob and there current captor is dealt a big enough blow that they could slip through the cracks and run away. Wonder what Batman would have to say to them if they get out and ask where he was lol.
Very prescient of you regarding the former part of that statement. As for the latter aspect, I'm afraid, as usual, that Batman will be silent on such matters.
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Ooh so we can expect the possibility of a major Mob throw down and the chance to get the hell out of dodge for the girls? It would be there best bet, There captor holds all the cards and if he is out of the way that leaves them with a much better chance of getting free, assuming they find a way to get the controls to that collar on Kara. There is still Sergei to worry about though, he's the one they really fear and that fear alone would prob be enough to curtail any escape attempt even if Tony is temporarily disabled or distracted.
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Sergei may have his hands full in a couple of months from now. Heh, heh, heh.
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Well, that was fun.
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A Matter Of Honor
Part 65 – B



“This is Big Bryce Cannon on Sirius Channel 115: Hot Talk Radio. Tonight’s topic is all about the lovely ladies who’ve gone from heroines to harlots. That’s right folks, we’re talking Supergirl and Wonder Woman. From bouncing bullets to bouncing boobies. From jailing thugs to inhaling drugs. From the topmost ranks to the lowest skanks. What’s the story with these gals, huh? Call me at 1-800-HTR-7777 and let’s talk trash about these heroic pieces of ass. Yvonne, you’re up first on line one. Talk to me girl.”

“Well Bryce I think it’s just disgusting how these two cows have behaved over the years. I mean, I put up with their low-cut costumes and camel-toe nonsense up til now because, you know, they were doing some good for us regular folks. But now, with all the sex scenes and immoral behavior, I don’t understand why they’re not in jail. I mean, they block out the screen when it’s on the news but you know damn well what those girls are doing! It’s low behavior. That’s what it is.”

“The lowest, Yvonne. Hey, can I ask you, have you ever seen one of these heroines in person?”

“Not really. Just what I’ve seen on you know, the news and YouTube and such.”

“Anybody who’s actually seen one of these babes in the flesh, call in and let me know if they’re really as sizzlin’ as they look on the video. Smokin’ hot bodies gone bad. You gotta love it. Chester, you’re up. Speak your mind, guy.”

“Yo, Bryce. Love the show.”

“Thank you man. We try to provide. Make your point.”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t seen them up close either like, but I saw Supergirl flying way overhead one time, leavin’ like one of them jet trail thingies. Does that affect, like, you know, the ozone? Can she be arrested for that maybe?”

“Yeah, I think that’s just water vapor condensing from her speed I but I’m not sure. However, I wonder if, when she breaks the sound barrier, whether she might be also breaking some noise ordinances. That’s something the cops can follow up on, if you boys in blue are listening out there. Trouble is, folks, nobody knows where these girls are being held, where they’re shooting these videos. Nothin’. The cops are stumped. FBI. CIA. NSA. Nobody knows shit. Or maybe they do and just like it the way things are. Sick but possible. Riley, on line 4. What’s the good word?”

“As a woman, I have to take issue with you, Bryce, about how you objectify women.”

“Ah, Riley is a lady. My producer did not note that fact on my screen. Thanks for that, Lonnie. We’ll talk after the show. Well, Riley, it seems to me the ladies have turned themselves into the hottest sex objects since Marilyn Monroe and Bridgett Bardo were strutting around in the 50s. Or Bo Derek and Terri Hatcher in the 80s or Angelina Jolie and Britney Spears...well, she’s a bad example, but you get my drift. Women have been objectifying themselves forever because, shock of shocks, sex sells, sweetheart. These heroines knew it before they hit the skids. Just look at their costumes. You can’t tell me they’re designed that way simply for aerodynamic efficiency. Hold my balls and squeeze, Riley, because IT’S TRUTH TELLIN’ TIME!”

In the studio, Big Bryce Cannon rings his gong to his famous catch phrase and the phones flicker in excited response. With the number four show in the overnight time segment he’s pulling great numbers in a crowded market. And heading higher, especially when he trashes celebrities.

“But Bryce, these women have been abducted and forced to do these things beyond their will. I think we...”

“Riley, darlin’ have you seen the footage of what these ladies are doin’?”

“..should give them the benefit of....”

“Have you seen their act, Riley? Yes or no?”

“...the doubt until their side of....”

“RILEY! THEIR ACT...HAVE YOU SEEN IT?

“But if they’re under the influence of drugs and torture....”

“RILEY! SHUT UP FOR A MINUTE AND LISTEN!”

“..then they’re really not acting in their right minds.”

“RILEY! IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR TRAP, I’M CUTTING YOU OFF THE AIR.”

“...is all I’m saying.”

“Are you done?”

“For now.”

“Have you actually seen the footage, Riley? The real footage on the Internet, not the blacked-out vanilla shit on the network news.”

“Well, no. I haven’t but...”

“I have seen it, Riley. I have. In fact, I’ve bought almost the whole Supergirl series and the first three Wonder Woman releases. So yes, I’ve seen them. In all their stop-motion, slow-motion, HD, close up and personal as a curly pussy hair glory, Riley. And let me tell you, nobody does what those ladies do without wanting to do it. Deep inside their heroic natures, these girls want to do some of these things, some of these things real bad.”

“But if they were tortured...”

“REAL BAD, Riley. REAL BAD.”

“We all have a sexual nature, Bryce. It’s programmed into us through evolution. You can’t fight that but...”

“I don’t see them fighting it much at all, Riley dear. Not so effing much at all!”

“But under the drugs, too, you know...”

“Under the drugs, over the drugs, you know what I see, Riley?”

“You see what you want, Bryce.”

“I see what they want, Riley. What they want! And you know what that is? It’s BJs and Humpings and Anal, oh my! BJs and Humpings and Anal, oh my!”

“I’m just saying they probably were left no options...”

“Maybe not. Maybe so. But I see them exercising their options in all sorts of nasty ways and there’s no other way to see it when you see it up close, sweetheart. IT’S TRUTH TELLIN’ TIME! (Gong!) Thanks for calling in, Riley. Jeremy in Jersey, what’s your take on all this?”


* * *


On Saturday morning, Supergirl is staring in the mirror. Her tired, vacant blue eyes are staring back at her. There’s nobody there. Just someone going through the motions. Her limp hair dangles low, framing her face. Her mouth is filled with green foam, spilling out all over her lips in a froth of madness. Then she spits out the toothpaste and rinses, her head low over the sink. Her moment of reflection over.

Behind her, the faucet squeaks shut and Diana pulls open the shower curtain and steps out of the blue porcelain tub, her naked body glistening
wet, shiny and pink from the hot water. The sighing Amazon reaches for a thick, huge white bath towel and begins rubbing off the excess drops covering her smooth flanks, her tight abs, her large wobbling breasts.

“You okay, Kara, sweetie? You look kind of down.”

“Don’t know why that would be,” mutters the blonde as she steps back from Diana and pulls the teal silk teddy she’d been sleeping in over her head with crossed arms. She drops it off to the side behind the door, sidles by her suite mate, steps into the bathtub and turns on only the hot faucet. The water floods out, circling her pink polished toes with steaming hot waves. Kara pulls up the shower knob and the water halts its flood for a pause and then shoots it out from overhead, drenching the young blonde in scalding water. With her powers at their full measure, she doesn’t even notice the heat, but the 110-degree water that splashes onto Diana’s rump before Kara can draw the shower curtain pulls a yelp from the bent over Wonder Woman.

“Hey! Watch that! We’re not all Kryptonians in this bathroom!”

“Oh, sorry, Di.”

“What’s the matter, Kar?”

“I just feel blue,” the blonde answers through the curtain as she soaps up all over. “I know we agreed to not resist and everything. But we’ve been with, what, eight guys each over the past four days. I’m just sad about the whole thing.” Rubbing her hand between her legs, Kara works the foamy lather into her crotch, swiping it all over her lower lips, through her pubic hair and around her inner thighs. “Just ‘cause we agreed to do it, doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“You think I like it?”

“No, of course not,” Kara answers, standing under the rinsing spray now. “But you are a bit of a screamer when things get going.”

Smiling as she works the towel through her toes, Diana replies, “Hey bitch, I’m not the one who keeps calling out, “Deeper, faster, oh yes, oh yes!”

A shy smile flickers on Kara’s face now. “Well, we have to keep them happy. Make them think they’re god’s gift to women, don’t we?”

“That’s the plan,” answers the raven-haired beauty as she wraps the towel around her lush locks and stands before the mirror in all her naked glory, inspecting the goods. Now that the beatings have stopped and she’s been a good girl, her body is back to its magnificent self. She can feel the Amazonian power coiled in her thighs and arms. Turning halfway, she notes the taut ripples in her flexing glutes. But the power is also hidden by her curves, her grace and her bearing. And all this feminine beauty and strength has been used for nothing more than hard grinding sex for the last few days. What a waste!

What she wouldn’t give to be sparring in the training grounds of Themyscira. Maybe she and Kara should start some sparring sessions so she doesn’t lose her fighting edge. Of course they’d wreck the suite in ten minutes, so they’d have to find another place to do it. She’d ask Tony next time he came in.

Diana had to fight the wave of thoughtful sadness that her friend had generated. Maybe they’d get out of here someday, somehow. But it sure didn’t seem like anybody was trying that hard to rescue them. She’d heard the whining cameras and seen the smirks on Sergei’s and Carmine’s faces after a session with one of the johns that had come through over the past few days. Kara had said that everything was being recorded and sold. Wonder Woman seethed suddenly at that thought. Her reputation was probably shattered for good. You couldn’t be the Champion of All Women with the things she’d been doing with these men. Her mother may have already stripped her of the title if she knew.

Now it was Diana’s turn to look in the mirror and see the wear and tear of their choice in those blue eyes. Once so proud, now they seemed flat and flawed, cowed with fear from the training by Sergei. The thought of him makes the Amazon’s whole body shudder and she shakes her head to dispel the memories of the pain and humiliation.

“You think we should start having sparring sessions, to keep our edges up?”

“What’s the point,” Kara answers sullenly, twisting the faucet shut with a squeak. She had to control herself. She’d almost ripped the threads from the faucet in her flash of despair. She’d already done it once and had been cautioned by Sergei that “the collar” might have to be put on her full time if she couldn’t control herself. The thought of 24/7 kryptonite radiation makes her shimmy with fear even now.

Kara draws the shower curtain open and the two naked women unexpectedly meet with their eyes, staring into each other’s pained, frightened souls. Drawn together in misery, Kara steps out of the tub and Diana steps forward and the two naked champions press close together in a hug of mutual support. The water from Supergirl’s body sluices down Wonder Woman’s chest and thighs and slides down onto the tile floor, puddling there as the two women silently add to the moisture on their bodies with their tears.


* * *


Sergei stands somewhat tiredly at the check out counter in the CVS pharmacy on 161st Avenue, just off the Grand Concourse in the Bronx. At 7:30 in the morning he’s one of only two patrons in the place. He’s there to pick the NY Post and his carton of Kool menthol cigarettes. Outside, a steady rain grays the day, and streams down the front windows, fogged by the heat of the store. Behind him, a young mother in a bright green slicker kneels over the stroller her one-year old daughter is fussing in, having dropped her pacifier down next to her chubby thigh. Looking around, Sergei notes the attentive mom handing the baby back her pacifier then spots a tall bouquet of Slim Jims in a metal display stand off to the left. He reaches past her with a polite “Excuse me,” plucks the long beef stick out of the arrangement and tosses it on the counter with his other stuff.

“Will that be all today, Sergei?” The Russian clerk has gotten to know his countrymen over the several months the mafia strongman has been coming into the store. Turns out they grew up in villages only 30 miles apart in the mother country. The clerk even knows about the man’s reputation as “The Mad Russian Bear.” That was from other Russians he lived with out in Canarsie. Nasty stuff, although the guy seemed quite calm actually all the times Arkadi had served him. Even last week, waiting in line behind some woman taking her sweet time with her lottery numbers, the Russian mobster had stood quietly by without a flinch of exasperation. Maybe the guy had slowed down over the years. Living on past glory.

“Dah, Arkadi. That will do.” Sergei is looking at the back page of the newspaper. Derek Jeter is there, shown in his classic mid-leap throw to first base for a game-saving play that ended last night’s contest and notched another win for the Yankees. The captain certainly was back to his old self. His hitting had come back and this back-handed stab at a ball that everyone thought was going to spike past him for a single was remarkable. It would have won the game for the Texas Rangers but Jeter’s play was like a step back in time six years when the beloved Yankee could range right or left at shortstop and gather everything in with amazing grace.

“That was something to see,” Arkadi says, seeing Sergei’s eyes scanning the page. “Did you catch the game?”

“Nyet, I was busy with...”

The automatic doors slide open at the front of the store with a loud hiss and Sergei’s eyes shift automatically over toward the sound. Two men in long black raincoats walk in, their hands low, hidden inside the flapping depths of their coats. But both men’s hands are in motion and then so is Sergei. He takes an immediate step backwards and then another, putting the young mother and her baby between himself and the two men in black coats. The flash of gray steel emerges from the coats as the men raise their matching pistols.

Glocks. Gen4 22s. 17 in the clip. Nice hardware. Sergei bends slightly, reaches down and grasps the collar of the mother’s bright green slicker in his left hand, hoisting the suddenly wide-eyed woman to her feet. His right hand is already behind his back, pulling out his Baretta PX4 Compact from the waistband. With a clip of 13 bullets, he’s ready for anything, even if he has less in his clip and it’s two against one.

Hesitant, the two shooters face Sergei with guns now level at their waists, pointed dead at him, through the woman of course.

“Noo! Not in my store!” Arkadi gasps.

“Ohgodno!” The mother blurts out, staring down in horror at her giggling brown-haired baby who’s smiling up at her around her pacifier.

“Be calm to live, my dear,” Sergei says, pulling on the straining woman’s slicker, drawing her closer to him to block the oncoming fusillade.

“My baby...” The woman’s arms reach down in supplication at her nearby infant and in total fright, the young mother helplessly wets herself. The sound of splashing liquid on pale blue vinyl flooring is the only noise in the place for a moment. Then one of the shooters speaks.

“Be a man and let her go, Sergei.” The one on the left says this calmly as he pulls his gun higher and sights at eye height with two hands on his piece, aiming directly at Sergei’s head.

“Dah, Sergei. Please,” Arkadi urges over the sound of the whimpering woman, his hand motioning with an away gesture at the woman, “let her go.” When Arkadi’s other hand pulls up from behind the counter with a gun of his own, a cheap Saturday night special, Sergei flicks his wrist sideways and shoots the clerk in the heart. If the man hadn’t said anything and just pulled his gun, he’d still be alive and Sergei might be the dead one.

The 40-caliber round jerks a loud grunt from the clerk and knocks him backward, smashing into the cigarette display behind the counter and scattering brightly-colored packs of cancerous death all over the place. Before the dead man hits the floor, Sergei’s gun is aimed back at the two shooters.

The man with the bead at his head fires just as Sergei ducks sideways. The young mother hears the bullet whine past her ear but is astonishingly unharmed. But then the second shooter reaches his arm way out to the side and tries to shoot around her into Sergei’s torso. The Russian yanks the woman sideways, closer to him and she takes the second shooter’s bullet in the hip, spinning a quarter turn as she screams out in pain.

The baby reacts to this and starts crying even as Sergei puts a bullet into the shooter on the right who’d hit his human shield. The man yells out “Arghhh!” With his aim compromised by the weight of the woman in his grasp twisting his body, Sergei’s bullet has gone slightly astray and his target’s shoulder sports a blood-pumping bullet hole instead of his chest. Also, with her body starting to slump, the woman’s effectiveness as a human shield is now compromised. Sergei propels her forward with a shove and the woman sprawls onto the floor before the two shooters. The inside of her green slicker is folded out showing a spray of blood from her hip wound but the woman just lies there, in shock for the moment but alive. Sergei uses the momentary distraction of this on the two shooters to physically lift the stroller, baby and all, and heave it sidearm at them with all his strength. The sight of the navy blue stroller flying straight at them scatters the two shooters, each off to his own side. One is hidden by a magazine rack, the other by the snack chip display.

The baby in the stroller is screaming bloody murder now as she lies trapped on her side in front of automatic doors that are opening and closing repeatedly with the weight of the baby stroller on the activation mat. With lungs like that, she’s clearly not severely injured. To add insult to injury, rain is being blown into the miserable infant’s face. Not that Sergei cares as he retreats backward until he squats down behind a shelf filled with toilet paper, napkins and tissues. A bullet passes through a four-pack of Charmin not five inches from him.

Not enough cover. Have to find canned goods. Crab-walking backwards to another aisle, Sergei comes to rest behind a shelf stacked deeply with canned fruit and vegetables. Better.

The woman on the floor is faint with loss of blood now and is weakly trying to get to her feet and reach the stroller five feet away from her. Just as she stands, Sergei pokes his head around the corner of his aisle and, for his effort, gets a bullet winging past his ear from the shooter behind the magazine rack. The one behind the snack chip aims as well, enjoying a clear shot at the head of the ducking Russian. Just as he fires the rising woman intercepts the bullet with her head and is flung backward onto the floor, bleeding profusely from a scalp wound through her thick brunette locks.

“Ooohhhhhh....nooooo....chrissie....my chrissie...” the woman moans, thinking herself to be dead in moments and weeping for her daughter’s loss more than her own. The baby continues to scream as the rain pelts intermittently through the opening and closing doors.

In the parking lot outside, people are hearing shots inside the CVS and are calling 911 on their cell phones. Sergei knows he can’t have much time to get away from this before cops start swarming the place. One of his assailants is wounded but neither is out of commission. Not good. Perhaps there is a back door.

Crab-walking backwards again, Sergei starts toward the rear of the building to make a judicious escape. Just then the sound of a can falling to the floor off to his left freezes the Russian.

A flanking maneuver, eh?

He repositions himself on his hands and knees and creeps stealthily toward the sound, going against good tactics in a two-man advantage. If the other man is flanking, which he probably is, he could be pinned in a cross-fire. Unless he moves quickly. Suddenly, crouching and rushing forward, Sergei dashes around the corner of the aisle and slides three feet to the side just as the shooter looks up into his eyes in shock. The deep knowledge of his own death is obvious in his eyes as Sergei shoots him point blank in the face then drops instantly to all fours and crawls back towards the rear of the building again.

He’s at a pair of swinging double doors marked “Employees only” when a young kid in a red and white CVS apron comes walking out of them with a pair of headphones on, his head bopping to the music of his Ipod. Sergei stands up straight to draw fire now. And the second shooter stands up as well, two aisles away in the Cold Remedy section. The man fires just as Sergei spins behind the young man who is the Russian’s third human shield in three minutes. The poor kid takes a bullet in the side of his neck with a surprised, “What the fuck! OWWW!”

Sergei backs into the rear storage area and sees an open bay door and a driver walking toward him from a CVS trailer he’d just backed in.

“Hey buddy, you the one who signs this?” The driver holds out an aluminum clipboard.

A police siren screams from nearby and the man turns his head in that direction. Sergei brings his hidden gun up from behind his leg and knocks the driver senseless. He dashes over to the still-running CVS truck, climbs in the cab, releases the brake and pulls away from the store just when four cops out front are spreading through the store and training their weapons on the second shooter who’s raising his arms painfully and dropping his Glock to the blue linoleum. What a fucked up hit!

Two other cops are attending to the wounded woman and her screaming baby while another deals with the profusely bleeding employee in the rear. “We’re gonna lose him if we don’t get an ambulance here in four minutes,” the cop wails applying as much pressure as he can to the neck.


Sergei pulls the tractor trailer onto the Grand Concourse heading north. He will ditch the rig in about two minutes and then call Tony with the bad news. No doubt the security camera caught everything. The Mad Russian Bear will have to disappear for a while.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Jeez that radio show host is a massive dick. Nice too see though that at least a few people still want to give the girls the benefit of the doubt even if they are few and get shut down by the host. So wait no collar and at full or at the very least half power and Wonder Woman within reaching distance, why doesn't Kara just grab Diana and level the place and super speed the hell out of their? Or is she still wearing the Collar but it is just turned off? Either way, both ladies have very little to cling to in the way of hope and can only go with the flow and find comfort in eachother. Maybe Diana's suggestion of sparring would have helped them both get there edge back if they ever decided to confront Sergei.

Wow its no secret that Sergei is a horrible person but using that women and child as shield and distractions is fucked up. Honestly not really surprised but damn he just keeps racking up that bad karma lol. So this is the event that forces Sergei to get out of town for a bit, which is good news for the girls and gives them a better chance at any future rebellion now that the main source of their fear will be sent away.
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DrDominator9
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Sergei is the bad kharma king, for sure, and he'll be out of the girls' hair for a while but like a bad penny, he will show up again. As for our two heroines and Tony, the pressure will build on them all as the big meeting between the Mob dons draws nearer. Stay tuned. Oh, and keep an eye out for Carlo. He's up to no good!
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Hmm gotta keep an eye out for Carlo now eh? Mister video editor gonna get too big for his britches and try to make a move on the girls? Well he is certainly no Sergei and Diana has expressed the desire to stay in fighting form so he best keep his guard up if he wants to try something lol. Tony's rather impressive grip on the girls continues to show itself when even with Diana back to good physical condition and Kara with access to her powers that they dont even think for a moment of crossing him. Cant wait for the big mob throwdown.

It also occurred to me that with Sergei off the table for the moment, would Tony consider conscripting Scarlett for some extra muscle? She has been shown to be capable of great brutality like when she wrecked Clark and certainly has quite the libido for a fun time and bringing her into the fold would certainly fill the void left by Sergei and keep the girls in control. Plus a dvd of her going to town on Kara and Diana would sell like hotcakes lol.
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Your insight on my plotting is impressive, TAG. (TaliaAlGhul, too lazy to type it out all the time.) Except you're a little off about who will be using Scarlett. Thanks for your keen eye, though. Most impressive. You get my Reader of the Month Award. The check is in the mail. Wait, what? I don't get paid for this? About that check....

:giggle:
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Mounting Pressures
Part 66



Diana wakes up slowly, her mind sluggish, her body numb in more than a few places. She opens her eyes to the sight of the sea-foam green carpet twisting to the left beneath her. And then slowly to the right. Her arms are bound tightly behind her back and her legs are immobilized back there too. In fact, straining to move her legs, she feels her wrists pulled back from the effort. She realizes she is hog-tied and suspended from the ceiling of her suite in the Pleasure Dome. A fat red ball gag is forced into her mouth and secured behind her head. Focusing on the width of the drool spot beneath her, she slowly comes to the conclusion she’s been hanging here a while. Her muscles are tight and cramped and she can’t move them more than a fraction of an inch in any direction. At least her uniform is still on, although her bustier is pushed askew by the white cotton ropes binding her. The top of her breasts are broadly exposed with her nipples barely covered.

The soft grinding of the creaking rope as she sways slowly in mid-air is the only sound in the suite. And Wonder Woman tries to clear her fuzzy head and remember how she came to be in this helpless position.

She’d been entertaining yet another client of Tony’s. A rare early morning “date.” It was just her and...what was his name...Romeo? No Remo. Remo Gianti. Yet another mob don. Big guy. Over 6' 3" and solidly built. Very soft-spoken though. Nice enough it had seemed. He offered the caviar plate to her first before taking a melba round piled high with the Russian roe for himself and popping it in his mouth. Brought his own bottle of wine that he was very proud of. A rare Savignon Blanc that was quite tasty...and drugged. Of course! She had been given a mickey! She had cordially sipped about half a glass of the spiked wine as he went on and on about how much he admired her. She thought he had drunk some as well but if he did it was very little. She was sloppy in her depressed mood of forced prostitution and hadn’t paid attention and then she got woozy and excused herself to go to the bathroom and splash some water on her face but she never made it. The floor rushed up at her and that was all she could remember. And now she is suspended like a pinata and wondering where the man with the baseball bat might be hiding. This was not a good way to start the day!


* * *


Tony’s day isn’t going much better. Right in the middle of breakfast with Carmine of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast and coffee sent up from the kitchen to his suite, the two mobsters are interrupted in their discussion about the war with Don Lupenzo by a call on Tony’s cell phone from Sergei.

“Hey, Serge. Where are you? Wonder Woman is upstairs with Remo, so I thought you’d be...what? When? Are you hit? How many were there? Did the police...okay. Tell me then. I see.. Uh huh. That was lucky. I agree. No, I haven’t but I’m turning on the news now.”

Tony motions to Carmine who snatches up the remote and turns on the wide-screen wall-mounted LCD TV. He changes the station from Sportscenter to the local NBC station. It’s in commercial for the moment. Tony circles his finger horizontally at Carmine, prompting the big guy to cycle the remote to the next station. Another commercial. Glancing at his watch, Tony sees it’s 9:58 am.

“Everyone’s in commercial ‘til the top of the hour. Something may come on then. Yeah, ditch the truck as soon as you can and...oh, okay. What did you boost? A PT Cruiser? Really? Where are you headed? That’s a good idea. Look I know a guy in Connecticut who’s reliable. You can lay low....Why not? Hey, Sergei, you can trust me. Alright then, play it the way you think best. But this guy’s...alright, fine, I get it! Call me when you burrow in. Oh, Sergei! Buy a throw-away cell phone though and use my private line with the scrambler. How are you fixed for money? That’ll keep you for a few days. Obviously no credit cards or ATMs. You might think about some hair dye. Okay, okay. I know. Good luck. I’ll talk to you in a couple of days. Stay out of sight and stay safe. Keep off the vodka, my man. Be sharp. It’ll work out. I’ve got your back, Serge. I’m glad you’re okay. Wait a sec...the news is coming on now. Yeah, their leading with it but it’s too soon for anything solid. But they’ll put up the in-store camera video the second they have it, you know that. A what? A baby? Was it killed? That’s a relief. You did what? Well that’s not good. They’ll want blood for that, if even the baby’s not dead. Stay low. And dye that hair! Alright, Sergei. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Tony snaps the phone shut and bows his head momentarily, thinking through his options. This was a disaster. A public relations nightmare, not to mention the loss of a cool head from his management crew. This would increase the pressure on him from all fronts. Tony’s not sure he can spin this in any positive way. All he worked for could be threatened with this turn of events. He raises his head and looks at a very concerned Carmine who’s turned away from the TV to look at Tony with a slowly shaking head..

“We’re fucked!” Carmine says. “Aren’t we?”

“Could be, Carm. It’s not good.”

“Tell me everything.”

And Tony does while the TV news fills in some details.

“Heather Wells is now on the scene at that Bronx drugstore in the Bronx. Heather what can you tell us?” The regal-looking white-haired anchorman looks appropriately grave as the scene cuts to a shot of a pretty female reporter with wavy blonde hair dressed in a tight white blouse under a pale yellow blazer with a matching skirt that shows off her beautiful legs. The street is wet with puddles but the rain has stopped.

“Jim, the facts are still being sorted out about what went down here in the CVS pharmacy on 161st Avenue. Police are speculating that a mob hit went horribly wrong here. The toll in human lives is shocking for this normally quiet section of the Bronx. First off, a woman and her baby were injured. The woman was shot twice with a scalp wound and a shattered hip. The baby fortunately only suffered some nasty bruising and both were taken by ambulance to Mt. Sinai Hospital. The woman is in critical condition and is undergoing surgery now.

“One of the gunmen is in custody and a second one was shot dead by the intended target of the two men. In addition, an 34-year old employee, Arkadi Shrilenkov, who was working behind the register at the time was killed in the fierce gun battle and a second employee whose name is being withheld for now suffered a gunshot wound to the neck and is also in critical condition at Mt. Sinai. The driver of a CVS tractor trailer was knocked unconscious by the targeted mob man, a blonde Russian I’m told, who apparently drove off in the tractor trailer which has yet to be located. The police have issued an APB on the 18-wheeler and the fleeing gunman but there are no reports of either being found yet.”

“It sounds like something out of the Old West there, Heather,” the camera cuts to Jim Hutchins still looking grave as he shakes his head slowly with the paternal distress one expects from an Emmy-award-winning news anchor.

“Indeed, Jim,” Heather nods, her perfectly coiffed hair swaying coquettishly. “Details of the gun battle are still coming in from the few observers outside the store who called 911 when they heard shots. One witness stated she was calling the police on her cell phone when the automatic front doors of the pharmacy slid open and a baby stroller landed near the open doors with the young infant screaming and the sound of shots being fired inside. I’m told that the police are scrutinizing the video surveillance tape now and I’m hoping we can bring that to you in order to help identify the fleeing suspect and bring some clarity to the shocking events here in the Bronx. For NBC Four News, I’m Heather Wells.”

Taking the remote, Tony flips to another channel where a young male reporter is doing his standup report just twenty feet away from Heather’s position employing a slightly different angle of the CVS storefront. His report is essentially the same without the name of the Russian clerk or the fact about the APB on the tractor trailer. Also he’s not nearly as easy on the eyes with his wrinkled navy blue slicker and baseball cap with its ABC logo. Tony shuts off the TV and takes a slow pull from his coffee mug, thinking and frowning.

“Sergei say anything about what went on that they didn’t cover,” Carmine asks.

“He was the one who tossed the baby in the stroller to distract the shooters.”

“Fuck! That won’t win him any fans.”

“Ya’ think?” Tony scowls. “The media’ll have a field day with it. Especially when the video gets shown. And it will, I guarantee that. This is the type of thing people remember for a while. Gino’s boys royally fucked up this hit but he’ll still rally the families and scream for my head and Sergei’s, too. This is just the worst. I’m happy Sergei’s alive but this puts everything in jeopardy for us.”

“How we going to handle this?”

“Shit, Carmine, it just fucking happened,” Tony shouts at the older mobster in frustration. He glares at the man for thinking he should have an answer already. Then he calms himself down with a long, slow deep breath. “I’ve got to work this out still,” he says softly. He takes a bite of his toast and munches away in silence.

“Sorry, Tony. I didn’t mean to press. Let’s talk it out and maybe we can come up with somethin’ we can do,” Carmine offers.

“Yeah, okay,” Tony sighs, pushing away his plate in disgust.


* * *


Kara lies on the rose-colored comforter in the master suite’s bedroom with both arms flung out to the side. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt with a red heart centered on it, with pink silk panties pulled down around her thighs, stretched tight. Her eyes are dull and her expression slack. Her neck sports a thin glowing green dog collar and her head twitches every now and then as she moans softly. Kneeling on the bed before her, Carlo Pastore holds the blonde beauty’s legs in the air by her ankles and slowly fucks the crack-addled heroine.

He’d been told by Sergei before the Russian had left to get some cigarettes way over an hour ago to give the blonde a double dose of crack and keep the super slut occupied any way he wanted. Neither he nor the girl were to leave the bedroom until the client in the livingroom was finished with his session with Wonder Woman. Carlo had set all the cameras on automatic tracking and since the Amazon was hog-tied and suspended in one place, there wasn’t much need to stay at the control board. The servomotors and laser tracking equipment would keep everything in focus while the john had his way with the helpless Champion of All Women.

So, Carlo had given the all-too-willing blonde bimbo her crack pipe with four nuggets of white cocaine that she’d inhaled with a beaming smile that drooped quickly to a confused and docile pout. And now the young videographer was delightedly occupying Supergirl’s attention, minimal as it was, with a slow, luxurious shafting of the lethargic, heavily doped teenage wonder.

“...fheels...gud....” mumbles the blonde heroine as Carlo’s cock fills her tunnel to the hilt, his warm tool throbbing within her wet welcoming tightness.

“Tell me something I don’t know, bimbo,” grunts Carlo as slides his tool back and forth with slow, lazy pleasure. Carlo had turned off the cameras in the bedroom. He knows Sergei had okayed this fuck-fest but he didn’t want his mother seeing him screwing on some DVD that his jackoff step-father happened to come across. Besides, as much as he was into video, he didn’t like being in front of the camera at all. All his pleasure came through the viewfinder. But right now, it was transmitting through his dick in calm, soothing waves of heat. He was going slow because he wasn’t sure how long the john was going to take with Wonder Woman and the blitzed-out blonde beneath him wasn’t complaining one little bit for more friction. Or for anything; she was merely moaning and writhing in the thrall of the steady in and out motion of a fat penis filling her vagina again and again and again.

Pulling Supergirl’s leg toward him on a withdrawal move, Carlo glances at his watch: 10:22 a.m. He figured he had another half hour to kill. Leaning forward, he presses his dick back into Supergirl’s pulsing twat, deeper than ever, and lowers his body against hers as he plants his mouth on the slack yet warm lips of the oblivious Maid of Steel.

“Mmmmm....” she murmurs in throaty pleasure as his tongue slides into her eagerly-opened mouth. The crack and her desire take her to old familiar places with this new friend.


* * *


Out in the livingroom, Remo Gianti, has returned from the bathroom break he’d taken right after carefully securing the white cotton rope around a newly-installed steel cleat on the wall that held the dangling Amazon aloft. Wonder Woman growls and complains through her ball gag and jerks her head at Remo to get him to take the fat gagging thing out of her mouth. Deciding to comply, he unbuckles it and Diana stretches her mouth as wide as possible so he can pull the heinous thing out. Her jaw clicks with the release of tension and the Amazon beauty takes several deep breaths before speaking.

“Thank you. You know, I would have done virtually anything you’d asked, Remo,” Wonder Woman states flatly from her suspended status in the clutches of this pervert. “All this really isn’t necessary.”

“It is for me, honey buns. My money, my fantasy.”

The big, silver-haired mob don positions himself behind the swaying heroine and pulls a huge erect prick out of his pants then takes the swaying heroine’s right thighs in his sweaty palm as his other hand pulls aside her famous white-starred blue panties. Immediately, Diana feels a warm fleshy nob press against her nether lips and she sighs heavily. The big man nudges the large tip of his cock around in a slow circle of the gel-slathered labia of his tightly trussed prize.

“Just for the record,” Wonder Woman asks, “how much is this costing you?”

“You can be had like this for $315 dollars,” lies the mob boss as per Tony’s instructions. In actuality, he had to cough up $260,000 for this special evening with the Amazon warrior in bondage.

“WHAT!” Wonder Woman sputters with indignation at this. Being paid for her services was something she’d finally become resigned to, but to be humiliated like this for a fee so low made her pride sting, just as Tony knew it would.

“I know, it’s a lot of money,” Remo says, pouring salt on the wounded Amazon’s pride, “but you’re worth it, Wonder Thighs. Now give me a little sugar.” With a huge smile, Remo steadily pushes his cock past the thickly-glazed lips guarding Wonder Woman’s vagina into the lubricated tightness of her femininity.

“There’s the sugar doughnut I’ve been dreaming about, champ,” taunts Remo as he grips her thighs firmly and pumps his prick in and out, back and forth, forward and back in the Amazon’s warm cooze.

“Sugar doughnut? Really?” Wonder Woman is scornful even as the wide, hard dick thumps deeply into her.

“What’s the matter, my education level ain’t up to your snooty standards, Wonder Cunt?”

The annoyed Mafia takes his hands off the beauty’s thighs and reaches up to her tits. With a rough yank, he pulls down Wonder Woman’s top releasing her pendulous breasts in a wobbling, bobbling shimmy of naked feminine teats. His hands fold over the massive breasts and squeeze down brutally hard on the tender flesh of the mighty heroine.

“OWWW! AAAAGGGHHH!” Wonder Woman yelps in pain as Remo’s huge powerful hands are able to encompass even her large breasts and compress them into bulging fatty lumps. “STOP! YEEAARRGHH!”

“You gonna be more polite, bitch?”

“...yesss....” hisses Diana, her eyes tearing up in pain. Finally Remo relaxes his grip while still holding onto the sore fun bags.

“Yes what, cunt?” The hands compress firmly around the Amazon’s tits in warning.

“Yes sir, Remo, sir.” Diana quickly replies.

“That’s better. I like my super heroines nice and compliant.” With that said, the big Mafia stud resumes his battering of Wonder Woman’s feminine treasures, thrusting his cock in and out of her snatch with fast, fervid thumping jerks. Again and again he drives into her as he holds her breasts firmly and pile drives the famous champion with non-stop thrusts of his hips, forcing his wide powerful cock to the very deepest part of Wonder Woman’s cavity, brushing up against her cervix. The friction and the heat build quickly within Diana as does the pleasure of his incredibly deep penetration. The defenseless beauty can do nothing. Her head droops in a swoon of joy as her body bumps back and forth from the rhythm of this fevered fucking.

“...ooohhhhhh....” she moans heavily, her mind swamped by the huge influx of pleasure. She’d never been brought to such a state of sexual tension this fast, this furiously.

This guy is huge. Knows how to use it too!

“I guess the famous Champion of All Women likes it when she loses all possibility of any control. Ain’t that right, you sleazy skank!”

“...y...yes...no....don’t...know...OHHH!” Wonder Woman’s head snaps up in unexpected delight as both nipples are squeezed and Remo’s cock sends a secondary current of pleasure into her brain with a twisting motion that drives Diana’s pupils back into her head.

“Yeah, well I know and the answer is YES, Wonder Woman!” Incredibly, the pace increases and Diana’s body jolts in place as her bound body is tightly held by her tits and Remo’s tool pumps into her with derrick-like monotony.

“...hera...help...me...”

“Not this time, bitch.”

“....going to...”

“CUM!” Remo commands.

“...yes...Yes...YES....YESSSS...YESSSSSSSSSS!” Diana screams out her ecstacy as the wave of intense pleasure sweeps through her. Her body jerks and palsies in the tight ropes, unable to move, unable to prevent, unable to resist. Within her, a flushing rush of her juices drizzles out of her love hole, dripping to the carpet below. Behind her, Don Gianti beams with satisfaction. The cunt had cum and he still had a steel rod at his disposal. He loved making bitches cum before he did. And at his size with his endurance and talented speedy stroke, it happened almost all the time. Even a famous fucking Amazon couldn’t help herself from screaming like a banshee and soaking her precious costume pants with her pungent cum.

“Liked that, didn’t you, champ. Made you see stars a little, right?”

“...yethh....” mumbles the dazed heroine.

“Want more, don’t you?”

“...yethhh...” the dully nodding raven-haired heroine agrees.

Remo begins again. Slowly he moves his slick penis in and out of Diana’s thrumming vagina. Its width sends pleasure pulses through Wonder Woman’s overexcited cunny to her brain. The depleted, slightly dazed Amazon can only hang limply in the harness of tight white cotton ropes and bob with the slow rhythm established by Gianti’s movements against her.

“But the screaming may bother the neighbors so I’m going to have to gag you again, my dear.” The sudden pressure on her jaw makes Diana open wide. A second hand grabs her hair and yanks her head back. The red rubber ball gag is stuffed deep into her mouth, clogging it up with the smell of old latex. Breathing through her nose, Diana whines into the gag but it comes out like the muffled keening of a spent tea kettle. The hand releases her hair and Wonder Woman’s head drops low, her eyes staring at the carpet a mere three feet below. Both hands return to her breasts and the fucking resumes. Slow and steady, the pleasure patient but growing like a mountain in the distance.

Leaning over her, Remo whispers in her ear. “You women are all so predictable. Even a superhero like you. Give you a good-sized cock and someone who knows how to actually use it right and you melt like a marshmallow on a stick in a campfire! At first it’s all, ‘no I won’t, you can’t make me, I’m better than you.’ Then it becomes ‘Please don’t, I’ll behave, stop that, let me go’ and finally it’s ‘Ohhh my, don’t stop...yes, yes, yes and more, more, more!”

“....uuuhhhhnnnn.......mmmfffffff....” Diana weakly shakes her head in protest.

“Not true, you reply? Oh, but I think I just proved my point, Wonder Woman. You did say you wanted more. So I only feel it’s right to comply.”

Once again the nipples are squeezed and then lightly teased, the fingertips circling them in maddening delight. Struggling in ticklish, helpless pleasure, Wonder Woman jerks and bolts within the tight ropes but this only serves to aid Remo in his steady shafting of the Amazon princess. Her rear end pushes against him as she struggles and he savors the warmth of it from beneath the cool silk of her costume panties. And his hips continue to tilt back and forth and his cock continues to fill and refill her electric vagina. The movement within her sends a swell of pleasure up her spine and Diana stops squirming in futile protest and just hangs in space as she is slowly and relentlessly fucked by Remo’s generous cock. After three full minutes of this, Diana is on the verge of another climax. And Remo is getting close himself. He will permit his pleasure to overcome him this time yet he will still try to bring off the Amazon first.

Sliding his hands up under the legbands of Wonder Woman’s famous starred costume panties, Remo grabs her ass cheeks and plies them steadily, kneading them all around as his cock begins to drive and withdraw within her pussy at a faster pace. The suspended beauty luxuriates in the firm control this man exudes, masterfully manipulating her buttocks, steadily driving his penis into her over and over. He does this for several moments, stoking her fires higher and higher as he holds her tight and possesses her completely. Then his hands withdraw from inside her panties and return to her breasts, surrounding them with his warm palms as he pulls her bound body roughly toward his own and dominates her completely. He lowers himself so that his warm body presses against her back and immobilizes her in space as he takes her at will, his cock pounding into her now with ever increasing speed. Diana shivers with joy as her second orgasm draws close. Even Remo grunts softly in his rapid thrusting now. The pole drives into her over and over as he holds her bound body in an iron grip of flesh on flesh, pleasure on pleasure that she cannot resist. The heat of the driving rod spurs through her again and again. The tip of it bumping against her cervix, the width of him filling her crevice to its utmost capacity, the repetitiveness of these actions swamping Diana’s consciousness until she is nothing but blind flesh and firing neurons in free fall. Once again Wonder Woman screams in ultimate ecstacy as her orgasm sweeps her away. Her mind blunted into thoughtless void until a shocking moment later she feels a hot stream of Remo’s essence flooding against her inner walls. This startling pressure drives yet another wave of pure pleasure through her and the third orgasm back-washes against the second and Wonder Woman is left a helpless shivering carcass of spent intelligence hanging in space, held within reality merely by a man whose arms encompass her bulk to keep it from floating away into the ether.

Twin streams of drool drain out from around the ball gag as Wonder Woman hangs in blank stupidity within Remo’s arms. From her vagina seeps a thin white thread of semen and her own cum as she feels it drop away from her damp inner thighs. Remo shudders with pleasure as does Wonder Woman when he finally withdraws his softening prick. The panties snap back into place only to be soaked through by the flushing excess of their combined lust.

After a moment, Remo tucks his penis back into his pants and walks over to the bar to mix a drink.

“That was fun!” He notes, then takes a long pull on a Vodka tonic and calls out loudly. “I’m done in here!” Looking over at the spent heroine hanging from the ceiling in drooling, white-eyed, dumbstruck pleasure of her massive orgasm, Remo adds softly, “and so is the famous Amazon princess.”


* * *


After talking with Carmine for half an hour, Tony is the one who snaps open his cell phone and calls Don Gino Lupenzo.

“Is this actually the great Tony Bonano himself,” Gino answers.

“It’s time we had a meeting,” is Tony’s straightforward reply.

“No shit!” Gino responds. And they discuss exactly how they will make that happen.


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TaliaAlGhul101
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DrDominator9 wrote:Your insight on my plotting is impressive, TAG. (TaliaAlGhul, too lazy to type it out all the time.) Except you're a little off about who will be using Scarlett. Thanks for your keen eye, though. Most impressive. You get my Reader of the Month Award. The check is in the mail. Wait, what? I don't get paid for this? About that check....

:giggle:
Oho so Scarlett will be back, just not under Tony's employ? She was able to take down Superman so whoever she is being aimed at next is in for a world of trouble. And thanks for the compliment and award lol.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Well Sergei is officially off the board for the foreseeable future and Tony is down a top enforcer and runs the risk of getting in even worse standing with the other mob heads. Well it certainly didnt take Carlo very long to take advantage of the weakened and drugged Supergirl. Wow guy who edits these kinds of videos, has next to zero moral fiber and is party to the 2 girls continued confinement and is currently screwing one is worried about his mommy seeing him on video lol, amazing.

Trust Tony to kick a girl whens she's already down in the dumps by having her think she is being sold for chump change. At least Kara is too out of it to fully experience her humiliation at Carlo's hands, Diana doesnt get that luxury with her wits fully about her. At least she gets a little something out of it with a perv who knows what he's doing and likes to see her lose control.

Wonder how the meeting between Tony and Gino will go given all that's gone down.
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Oh, Those Tricky Men And Women!

Part 67-A



Supergirl, the gorgeous teenage marvel that the world had once cherished as its shining light of truth, justice, and might in the service of right, as well as the very personification of gentle goodness, was now drooling mindlessly, left in a thoroughly indecent pose after a drug-fueled sex orgy in the luxury penthouse suite of Tony Bonano’s pleasure palace. She is on her knees, hunched over on the bed with her face buried in the bedspread, her bare tits pressed flat beneath her, arms flung out to either side and her naked ass jacked up high in the air. The iconic blonde guardian of justice slowly oozes warm, spent semen from her mouth, ass and vagina courtesy of the jizz-drained balls of a two-bit mob video technician. Her pink silk panties dangle over the precipice of the bed in the precarious likelihood of falling as surely as the famed Maid of Steel herself has fallen in her virtue and in her status as the planet’s once most esteemed defender.

Drugged to near-moronic incompetence by her own addiction-driven actions, the once-renowned heroine can now only mumble incoherently and sigh with stupefied contentment at the thorough fucking she had enjoyed to the tune of four body-shuddering orgasms. Compelled by a combination of the blitzkrieg effects of all the crack she’d inhaled as well as her absolute capitulation to her status as captive whore for the Mafia, the famous blonde dynamo had blissfully offered and accepted any and all sexual positions and procedures initiated by Carlo Pastore.

The lowly young videographer had spent just under two hours exploring, violating, abusing and desecrating every inch of the beautiful, mentally-devastated heroine’s body with all the energy and imagination he could muster. He’d packed and filled and then refilled her moist, deep velvety pussy time after time with a cock he never knew could be so hard. The heat of their friction as he battered away at her bare butt inflamed them both. He kissed her mouth until both sets of their lips were raw with the friction of it. He tit-fucked the willing blonde as she held her sweaty breasts tightly together for his pleasure in half-lidded, nodding subservience until he ejaculated over their smooth perspiration-glazed curves with arcing sprays of gluey white warmth. She let him linger there, allowing him to paint his milky jizz deep into her cleavage with his warm cock as he sighed in dreamy bliss. She was silent as a stone in her own swirling, head-nodding drug-infused imagination, barely aware of her surroundings until he slapped her back to cognition and had her pull her top down.

There was a brief interlude of shared wine and cheese, during which the mentally-deficient blonde beauty dribbled a fine vintage Pinot Noir down her chin and gummed her crackers and brie into a crumbling mess that dusted her swelling bosom with floury flakes and smeared dots of runny, half-chewed brie. After that, a rejuvenated Carlo roughly face-fucked the famous teenage champion. She had knelt in drugged, docile compliance on the bedroom carpet, her drooping head even with his spread knees. Her pink silk panties edged out from under the hem of her pink t-shirt, the curves of her cute round ass stretching the material tight across her glutes. Supergirl’s muscular calves flexed in the gleaming in the light and her toes wiggled in the soft nap of the carpet as she dully awaited Carlo’s next command.

“Open your mouth, slut, so I can stick my dick in it.”

Supergirl opened her mouth wide and waited for Carlo’s cock. The young mafia hoodlum sat on the edge of the bed, took Supergirl’s long blonde hair in his tight fist and pushed his penis into the blonde heroine’s mouth. He slowly slid it along her tongue, then pulled it out, then slowly moved it deeply back in to the back of her throat.

“Okay, Super Whore. Go to work.”

“..whhuuhht...?..” She had replied, her mouth wrapped around his rod, her flat blue irises searching his face in dazed confusion.

“Suck me off, jizz bag!”

“..ohh...ohtay...” So she did. Her crack-stunted brain given a simple direction focused on the task She got his penis hard and wet with a loyal slathering earnestness that pleased the young man. He then energetically pumped his shining, saliva-coated tool down her noisy, gulping throat over and over until she helplessly gagged into his balls in purple-faced fear. Finally he had to pull out of her mouth to let her breathe. The stoned, gasping heroine had harshly coughed up a thick drippy mouthful of white phlegm onto her chest with the clumpy residue sliding down the bright red heart imprinted on the pale pink t-shirt in a slow, humiliating crawl of wet shame.

Supergirl looked down at the jizz-drizzled heart and pouted. It wasn’t the horribly degrading situation that had her lower lip rolled down. It was the fact that it smelled really bad. Nevertheless, when commanded to resume, the once-mighty heroine wrinkled her nose a bit then, with a dull nod of half-lidded stupidity, submissively took him back onto her drooling limp tongue and into her mouth. When she was too slow to begin, Carlo prompted her with an annoyed “Get to it, bitch!”

Supergirl then began sucking on his dick like a kitten with a freshly-proffered chicken bone searching out the spicy sweet marrow. She lapped and sucked, pulled and batted, playfully gnawed at and tongue-flicked his penis until brought him off: a phenomenal blowjob of remarkable persistence and skill considering her befuddled condition. She’d swallowed every creamy ounce he spewed into her blown-out cheeks then cleaned his cock as directed with her perfect, sultry, soft warm mouth.

Twenty minutes later, after they’d both enjoyed a last soothing glass of the sweet Pinot Noir from the bedside bottle, Supergirl partook of another powerful pull of crack smoke. Carlo then ordered the bleary-eyed blonde teenage champion to kneel on the bed, pull up her t-shirt to expose her tits and offer up her ass. Inundated by her swirling drug euphoria and brutally trained to do exactly as she was commanded, Supergirl assumed the position without any hesitation and the mob video wizard went to town on her beautiful rear end. He massaged her soft, squeezable buttocks, his hands roaming within her pink silk panties, his knuckles stretching out the fabric as he fondled the drugged heroine’s magnificent ass. After a moment, he pulled his hands out of her panties and pulled them down until they were stretched across her thighs. Then he probed her vagina with a well-greased roving finger, swirling petroleum jelly from the bedside table drawer over and around her clit that drew jerking gasps from the kneeling teen. He then repeated the finger greasing with her asshole, swiping the yellowish gel all around the fleshy pink knothole and then forcing his digit into the tight recesses of the resistant muscles that drew more gasps from the passive Maid of Steel. Finally, the young thug centered his dick between the blonde teenager’s buttocks and slowly and forcefully pressed his rigid boner as far up Supergirl’s ass as he possibly could. Inch by inch he invaded her rear, forcing forward then retreating, boldly pressing onward in fits and starts down the length of her anal cavity until he was balls deep inside his heavily drugged Kryptonian prize.

The bent-over blonde champion who could once terraform planets to provide irrigation to thirsty colonies, was now mentally incapable of anything but drooling on the rose-colored comforter in slack-jawed feeblemindedness as her breasts were gripped and her hoisted round butt was slowly at first and then more and more rapidly reamed by Carlo’s hot driving cock. Noisy, fleshy slaps of his hips on her rear kept a beat with the constancy of a metronome. Over and over the hot seven-inch dick stroked in and out of Supergirl’s butt-hole while nimble fingers teased her nipples, fondled her tits, tickled her clit and finally gripped her whole pussy firmly with a long, twitching ring finger inserted inside her.

Simmering in the juices of her crack-heightened sexuality, the illustrious Last Daughter of Krypton whimpered and writhed in helpless carnal incompetence, her mind obliterated with pleasure, her body a willing advocate for her own humiliation. No angry yelps of defiance issued from Supergirl; no fierce growls of cagey resistance were voiced; no struggling maneuvers of athletic protest occurred. Instead, throaty moans of inordinate pleasure rose loudly from within the muffled confines of the comforter. Excited squeals of tickled joy erupted from the bed’s soft depths. Shouts of ecstatic release rumbled up to the ears of the crouching, thrusting mafia flunky as he drove his rock-hard muscular tool between Supergirl’s soft sweat-glistened quivering butt-cheeks with total abandon. Forward and back, in and out, thrust and withdraw, the stalwart penis invaded the dazed and delighted Maid of Steel’s twitching pink anus again and again.

The glorious friction of her tight teenage ass was virtually unbearable to both of the sweat-drenched players. Beads of perspiration formed on the back of the crouched blonde’s neck. It pasted loose, stringy blonde hairs to her brow. It trickled down her quivering thighs. Carlo sported round spreading sweat stains of his own as he continued to stroke away at the moaning heroine on the bed beneath him.

Finally, with her tits roughly fondled, her clit vibrated rapidly by a flicking fingertip and her ass packed to capacity with the urgent heat of a hard-driving, rapidly thrusting and retreating cock, Supergirl’s mind flooded with the ultimate pleasure of a full-body, clitoral and anal orgasm of epic grandness. Screaming mindlessly into the drool-soaked comforter, the blonde champion’s body shuddered wildly in a paroxysm of pure ecstacy.

“UUUGHHH..HUH...HUH...UHHHH...OHH....AAHHH...OHHHHHHHHHHHHH..!...”

Her pink-painted toenails vibrated as her toes curled in delight. Her buttocks shimmied like tires hitting a pothole. Her knees quivered in place even as she came in a gushing stream of total pleasure. The embodiment of this joy drenched Carlo’s tool with slick warmth that sent him over the edge of ecstacy himself. Gripping Supergirl’s trembling body, holding her sweat-slicked wobbling tits, clamping his legs against her bare shaky thighs, Carlo came hard inside the mighty heroine’s ass. He hosed her with a hot jet of semen that seemed endlessly fed. Thick flushing gobs of it filled the teenage champion’s rear as she bowed beneath him in dazed, whimpering gratitude. His palm cupped between her legs, holding her womanhood, felt the warm, gushing release of his and her carnal fulfillment. It filled his hand and he wiped it on her hot thigh. Enjoying the spasming warmth of her pussy, he cradled it again and still the fluids drained from her two orifices there, an endless fountain of pleasure. They held that pose for a full minute, both panting hard in the room’s warm afterglow.

Then, releasing her breast, Carlo took that hand and pulled back on Supergirl’s sweaty hair and held the cum-filled palm up to her face. She thought she was being asked to lick the small puddle there but, instead, he smeared her face with it as she bent her head with her tongue extended. The cum, a slick hasty swipe of white war paint stroked both cheeks and dappled her chin. Dazed and bewildered by his sudden cruelty, Supergirl’s clouded blue eyes welled up and she tried to bury her face once again in the comforter but Carlo would not have it. Filled with his conquest, emboldened by the success of his own savagery, the young man suddenly slid off the bed and dragged the awkward, flailing Maid of Steel before the mirrored closet door, holding her there rigidly by her hair and her tits.

“See yourself, Supergirl. That’s my semen spread all across your face. That’s my seed you willingly gulped. You are mine, bitch. Others may take you but you’ll always be mine in your soul. Understand?”

The drug-befuddled blonde looked at her image in the mirror, peering blearily at her slack-jawed, cum-smeared face, her ungainly bent-knee stance, her exposed tits with the white flakes of dried cum clustered over their roundness. She noted the tight glowing green collar, her sallow and sickly complexion, the dark circles beneath her eyes, the flat, lifeless irises, the hoisted disheveled t-shirt, the thin trails of cum lining her inner thighs and down her calves. And suddenly, the druggy fog thinned enough and dispersed enough so that Supergirl stared with fresh horror at what she had become in the mirror.

“Dear Rao! That can’t be me?” Kara couldn’t believe the image reflected there was really who she was. She’d fallen so far, so very far. “That just can’t be what I’ve bec....OOONNFF!”

Without warning, Carlo sucker-punched the horrified teenager in the gut, driving her to her knees in gasping, airless helplessness. Wheezing like a broken pitch pipe, the defenseless blonde was dragged back to the bed and thrown on her back, her bare legs sprawled in opposite directions. From his pants pocket, Carlo whipped out a switchblade, flicked it open and held it at the distraught and confused heroine’s throat.

“You got about three-quarters of a nugget left in this pipe, Supergirl,” he said, taking it off the bedside table and handing the blue glass pipe to her. “Finish it up and I’ll finish you up.”

Deeply weakened by the kryptonite collar, still foggy and flustered by the ghostly remaining eddies of crack circling though her system and terrorized by the gleaming sharp knife at her throat, the trembling blonde took the crack pipe as commanded and held it her mouth. Warily reaching past a vigilant Carlo’s shoulder, she squeezed the matchbook on the night table between her trembling fingers and retracted her arm. Shaking badly, she was not able to strike the match cleanly. Finally on the third try, it lit and she held the flame to the bowl of the crack pipe and inhaled. The signature crackling of the cocaine nugget as it ignited filled the silent moment and the gray smoke flowed through the pipe barrel and into the lungs of the terrorized Maid of Steel.

Ten seconds later, the terror gave way to dreamy compliance, the blackout curtains were drawn once more on her keen intelligence, and the mighty Supergirl slumped down sideways onto the sweat-reeking comforter, stupidly bewildered into numb acceptance by the potent crack.

The moment Carlo could get it up again, Supergirl was roughly fucked from behind, with the young Mafioso spooning her and thrusting roughly into her slippery snatch for several minutes. His arms circled her, pinning her in place. Then he pulled out and switched back to her tight pink anus, hoisting her rump in the air and steadying her on her knees. He simultaneously butt-fucked the mighty maiden’s ass and finger-fucked her pink clenching twat until the Kryptonian beauty came four times in her drug-bloated confusion, a whimpering snot-draining mess. After he pulled his cock out of the blonde teenager’s ass, Carlo rested on the bed beside the hunched beauty, stretched out with his ankles crossed, palms cradling his head and smiling smugly at the humiliated champion moaning softly beside him, her violated orifices leaking his cum.

Maid of Steel? What a load of crap!

Carlo had never seen Supergirl in all her full-powered glory. Certainly not in person. Sure, he’d seen her exploits on YouTube and the news, and saw her picture in the newspapers plenty of times. But that seemed like a whole different person than the mumbling moronic skank that was dripping his cum here on the bed beside him. He couldn’t believe this cum-coated submissive little twat was even the same person. She wasn’t even that pretty anymore. He wondered if Tony had captured some second rate super stand-in. She sure didn’t seem heroic, not like Wonder Woman who showed some spunk now and then. Carlo looked forward to fucking a real heroine like her. Although this blonde bitch’s holes were warm and tight. He’d give her that!

A moment later, Carlo’s musings were interrupted. He heard Remo Gianti call out that he was finished. Alarmed and wondering where Sergei was and what he should do, Carlo finally decided to sneak back into the control room through the hidden doorway in the bedroom’s walk-in closet. Over the speaker, he announced to Remo that someone would be up shortly and quickly phoned Carmine’s cell.

“Yeah,” the big mobster answered gruffly.

“Don Gianti has concluded his business up here with Wonder Woman and Sergei’s not around,” Carlo said worriedly.

“I’ll be right up,” Carmine replied and cut off the call.

* * *

Carlo decides that he must act quickly now. Rushing into the small bathroom next to the control room, the mob videographer makes himself as presentable as possible, combing his hair and drying his armpits rapidly with a towel. Then he has a thought. He dashes back into the bedroom, manhandling the limp Supergirl out of her ass-high, face down drooling pose of carnal confusion until she lies on her back on the bed. He pulls down the pink t-shirt so it covers her breasts, smoothing out the heart emblem and copping a final feel of her knockers, then pulls the comforter briskly over her body with a rushed yank. Leaning over, he threatens the dazed blonde teen that if she mentions one word of what happened to anyone, he’ll knife her in the back when she doesn’t have her powers.
“Get me, bitch? You’re mine, Supercunt. Don’t forget it!”

“...yours...” comes her druggy, slurred reply. Carlo then runs back to the control room and begins checking the video record and starts his editing of the session between the hog-tied Wonder Woman and Don Remo Gianti. His eyes widen as he sees the treatment that the famous Amazon had received from the perverted don.

“Man, do I love this job,” he exclaims.

Moments later, Carmine bids the Don Gianti goodbye, promising him a video record of his morning in a few days time.

“How did it go?” Carmine asks Carlo in the control room afterward, noting the disheveled appearance of the videographer.

“It was very busy. Don Gianti had me hopping. Uh, sorry how I look, I, uh, had to suddenly dash around for a back up DVD so I wouldn’t lose any of the sequence. It got a little hot during all the excitement. And there was no Sergei to lend a hand. But... uh...there was no dangerous hanky panky,” lies Carlo. He hasn’t seen the whole session but if something had occurred, he can just edit it out.

“Sergei has been delegated to other tasks for now,” Carmine says. “You’ll have to keep watch on what happens in these sessions yourself. Can you handle that?”

“Absolutely, Carmine.”

“Good. Stevie said you were ambitious.”

“I want to help you and Tony, whatever it takes.”

“Thanks, Carlo. How’s Supergirl doing, by the way. What was she doing during Remo’s session?”

“Oh, uh, Sergei told me to give her a double dose of crack so that’s what I did. She’s still laid out in her bedroom, stoned to the gills.”

“Ahh, well. Some of us have it easier than others I guess, huh?” Carmine winks at the young man.

“Yeah, lying around all day, taking drugs and fucking on demand,” Carlo grins. “Tough life, huh?”

“Well, she earns her keep. If things work out maybe you may even have a shot at Supergirl yourself, Carlo. Just keep your nose to the grindstone and work your way up. Who knows,” advises the beefy Mafia don with coy condescension.

“Wow, really, Carmine?” Carlo looks at him with wide eyes filled with hope.

“Sure thing, kid. Anything’s possible. But I gotta get back to Tony. We’ve got some big planning to do. Keep your powder dry, newbie. You’re doing great so far.”

“Hey thanks, Carmine. That means a lot coming from you.”

“No sweat, kid. Later. And have that DVD of Remo’s ready by tonight, okay?”

“No sweat, Carmine,” the young videographer parrots back to the departing mobster, a huge leering smile flashing there that the older man doesn’t see as he heads for the elevator.


* * *


The bare-chested, black-haired man sits up on the bed wearing only sagging, grayish underwear, his head leaning against the headboard as he works on his Kool menthol cigarette, taking a long hard draw on it. It’s his third in less than a hour. A half-finished fifth of Smirnoff vodka is close at hand and Sergei takes it off the bedside table. Barely moving the smoking cigarette off to the side, the scowling Russian swigs a generous gulp from the tilted glass container then waves it at the television set on the dresser across from the foot of the bed. There’s no sound coming from the set for the moment but the grainy black and white visual shows a tall blonde man standing sideways at the CVS checkout counter facing the doorway. This is Sergei’s fourth viewing of the video. The news on all channels have been running it for the past three hours complete with commentary and phone numbers on the bottom of the screen to call if the viewer has seen the tall blonde Russian. For now, Sergei has turned off the sound, bored with the commentary by the reporters doing voice over of the action. He provides his own commentary.

The clerk in the video is standing off to his right of the man while a woman kneels beside a stroller to his left. Sergei watches himself take a step back behind the kneeling woman.

“Good move, Sergei!” He calls out loudly then looks chagrined as he realizes his deep voice can carry through thin motel walls. “Smart play getting behind the woman and her baby,” he repeats in a soft whisper. “Fuckers should have opened up right there. No talking, just shooting. Dumb bastards. Would have had me easily. Look I don’t even have my gun out yet!” He rasps noisily at the set with harsh quiet fierceness, his pride showing.

He watches the scene unfold in slow motion and comments on it ruefully, playfully, even sarcastically in turns as the scene plays yet again before him.

“And still they do not shoot. I am holding the woman but who is she to them? They have job to do yet do nothing. She should be this Swiss cheese by now. Idiots to give me a chance.”

He takes another drag on the Kool, watching the small screen. “Maybe they think Arkadi will surprise me, the dumb prick. A fancy set up, nyet? Nyet! So obvious is this moronic Russian stooge. Look, I barely move my wrist, he is dead now. Too bad for you, motherfucker. Tumble among your crashing cigarette display like a soulless puppet. Gone from this life and no one cares.” He takes a quick swig of vodka.

“Finally, they decide to shoot. One miss for man on left. One hit for man on right. Oh but sorry, Right guy, you hit the woman and not Sergei who is quick motherfucker ducker, yes? Tsk, tsk. Someone is to be needing practice at shooting range I am thinking.” Sergei flashes a wolfish grin.

“And now look who is shot. It is Left man. Would have got you in the heart if collapsing woman hadn’t pulled my aim, limp dick! But that shoulder doesn’t look so healthy, wop pig! So, woman is useless now, so toss her at stupid gunmen. Right! Just so, Sergei, like that! And like mannequins they stand there yet. Mafia greenhorn shitbags! Here now, duck quick, mafia retards! Here comes stroller with baby right at you. Duck little gunmen fucks. Cry little baby, cry. Sergei is to be retreating now. Bye bye.” Sergei waves the bottle up and down in the air before he takes another drink from it.

“Now I am by the toilet paper. Can you see me? No. But someone is lucky shot and almost clips me. Time for Sergei to move ass to canned goods. Look hard, mafia goons. Look for Sergei the Mad Russian Bear. He will claw you bad. Be careful and slow and stupid, goon men. Where is the Sergei? Take a shot, Left man. Close but no cigar this time. Too bad for you. How about you, Right man? What? Oh you’d rather skull-crease the slow-rising woman than kill Sergei. Good for you then. Do that.” Sergei shakes his head and chuckles like he’s watching a comedy even as the woman falls back with her skull bloody, her body limp.

“Now is time for lucky Russian to vamoose, nyet? But wait, he hears noise by Left moron sneaking low to kill Sergei. So, Sergei can be sneaky, too. Look, mafia man, Sergei does sliding cowboy trick on slick tile floor, his guns blazing and now you are shot in face and very dead. Too bad for you but no time for flowers, Sergei has to crawl away low. Crawl away fast, Sergei. Crawl now!”

Finishing the cigarette with a final hard pull, Sergei reaches over and drops it in the plastic drinking cup half-filled with water and crowded with many floating orange filters of earlier smokes.

“Ah, yes, the funniest moment comes now. We are at double doors at rear of store. Now comes through CVS apron teenager enjoying his music. Who is this blonde man who is spinning around me? And why now is my neck gushing blood? This is a bad day to be me, let me tell you. Better fall down and bleed out now. Goodbye, blonde man. Glad I could take a bullet for you. Anytime. Call me. I am in the book. Gurgle, gurgle.” Sergei is almost weeping in his laughter. He takes another large pull from the vodka bottle and hoists it in a toast to the CVS employee.

“To all the innocent bystanders in life. Long may you be there for me. Too bad the video didn’t get me clocking the driver and stealing his semi. Ah well. Was a fun day or what, nyet? Oh, what fun!”

Sergei slowly rises off the bed and goes over to look in the mirror hanging over the far end of the dresser at the dye job he’d done on his hair and eyebrows. Not bad. The beard and mustache were shaved and he felt with a baseball cap and sunglasses, he’d be disguised enough to do some more shopping for provisions in a little while.

Walking over to the front window, he carefully parts the heavy curtains hiding him from the world and looks out at the highway outside with cars streaming by in a never-ending river of red taillights, white headlights and the splashing spray of an early-evening shower. Across the highway from the hotel sits a very large shopping mall. Sergei had never gone to Connecticut. That was just something he’d told Tony to throw even him off the trail. Right now Sergei is standing in his skivvies, slightly drunk and wavering in place in an inexpensive hotel in Paramus, New Jersey. It’s just crowded enough and anonymous enough to work for a few days. Until he can figure out where to go and what to do.


* * *


Sitting in the coffee shop on the ground floor of the Pleasure Dome, Tony has the morning editions of the New York Post and The Daily News laid out on the table before him. Carmine is sipping coffee across from him in the booth, reading the papers upside down. Splashed across the front pages of both newspapers is the identical photo, the video capture of a baby in its stroller flying in mid-air with Sergei in the act of throwing it in the foreground and two mafia goons diving to opposite sides in the background.

The New York Post headline reads “MOBSTERS TOSS NO HITTER” with a large caption under the picture declaring “Bungled mob hit in Bronx pharmacy leaves two dead, two critical and one badly-bruised baby. Story on page 3.”

Meanwhile the Daily News front page screams “GIVE THIS BUM THE HEAVE HO!” while underneath the photo of the thrown stroller runs the line: “Russian Mobster Tosses Baby in Bronx Hit Gone Bad. Story inside.”

“Well, this is just about as bad as I thought it would be,” Tony scowls. “I get mentioned about halfway through both stories. I think we might have Gino to thank for that. He’s putting on as much pressure as possible before our meeting to soften up my position. Can’t say the bastard’s not smart.”

“He’s definitely a crafty guy. He’s been around a long time and I don’t see him losing his grip much,” Carmine agrees. “You get a call from O’Donnell about this yet?”

“Eight o’clock on the dot. We may get the whole warrant and search routine again. This time for Sergei. We may have to move the girls back to Brooklyn one more time,” Tony says glumly.

“Hmmm. No Sergei and no Stevie. We’re running low on truly reliable help,”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m not sure I’d trust Carlo heading up that team yet. He’s too raw for it.”

“I agree. And I need you here for when O’Donnell comes snooping. So I may just have to lead the team myself and use the guys from the raid on Gino’s headquarters. Everyone performed well on that one.”

“Sounds okay to me. The girls are pretty hooked now so I think they won’t be much of a problem long as you keep ‘em doped up.”

“Agreed,” Tony nods. He takes a sip of his coffee. “Did you read that we’re setting new sales records on the Wonder Woman DVD series.”

“Really?”

“Page 57, under the TV listings in the Post. Fastest selling DVD series ever. It’s early yet so the totals don’t come up to you know, that Harry Potter thing or the Lord of the Rings series. But we got out of the gate faster than those two.”

Carmine picks up the newspaper and peels through it until he finds the article. He skims it quickly. Damn, did you know we were hitting these numbers? And how’d they get these anyway? We’re not a public company. Whose giving them this info?”

“Relax, Carmine. They poll the video stores regularly and work up estimates. Actually, I haven’t gotten a report today but I’m thinking they’re not far from the truth. At this rate we’ll top $250 million before the month’s out.”

“Well, shit, Tony. Why don’t we just retire somewhere. Who needs this fucking shit storm?”

Tony looks runs his fingers around the top edge of the coffee cup, frowning. “Shit storm is right!”

“But hell, you’ve gone through worse,” Carmine consoles his protege.

“Not quite like this. Not from all sides at once. This is going to take some pretty fast tap dancing to get out of this one,” Tony replies.

“Well, at least we’ve got a truce until then, so nobody’s gonna get whacked. Got a plan yet?” Carmine looks straight at Tony.

“I’ve got something I’m working on,” Tony answers, looking up and back into Carmine’s concerned face. “A little misdirection maybe. I have to think it through.”

“Care to share?”

“I’m still working out the angles and details. Once that’s done, I’ll review it with you. See if you can poke holes in it.”

“Alright. But we’re running out of time,” Carmine cautions. “The meeting’s tomorrow night at 5 o’clock.”

“Yup” Tony stares into the black abyss that is his coffee cup. “I realize that, Carmine.” He lifts the fine china and slowly drinks the bitter black brew in silence.
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Get Your Exxon
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Applause. another great chapter. I do miss Supergirl ...well being Supergirl though. Don't get me wrong, this series is lit, definitely a fav. I'm constantly re-reading. Such great humiliation and excellent descriptions. No wonder I keep wanting more. good vivid writing man. I just miss the super in Supergirl, know what I mean? Still you're doing something right. Congrats.
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DrDominator9
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Get Your Exxon wrote:Applause. another great chapter. I do miss Supergirl ...well being Supergirl though. Don't get me wrong, this series is lit, definitely a fav. I'm constantly re-reading. Such great humiliation and excellent descriptions. No wonder I keep wanting more. good vivid writing man. I just miss the super in Supergirl, know what I mean? Still you're doing something right. Congrats.
Eventually that heroic aspect will return. I promise, seriously. I miss that part of her character as well. And of Wonder Woman's too. Meanwhile, enjoy them at their lowest point for now and know that it won't last forever, it will only seem that way to them. (But hopefully not to my readers.)

Also, a heads up about a new thread I'll be starting in a few weeks. It is an imaginary arc that will happen. Written for a good friend on request, I explore in six chapters what might happen if Supergirl and Wonder Woman were put out on the street for one night by Tony to work as prostitutes. It will be posted as a parallel track to the currently running thread but it's not real as any part of the plot of the SG Mob series. I do hope that people will enjoy it, though, and let me know.

By the way, I've been greatly appreciating the increased feedback to this series lately, it's been terrific, so thanks to those who've taken the time to express themselves here. It keeps us writers writing.
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KennyLoggins
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Judging exclusively by the low level of CW's Supergirl I hope this story never ends.

Supergirl on Crack is a lot more thrilling than Supergirl writing staff on weed, and the writer didn't even had a chance to write with just one hand most of the time. I salute your scrolling hand commitment with professional typing.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Well Carlo is certainly trying to act like the big man on campus but it would seem he has to be careful that the higher ups dont find out about how far he has gone since he isnt quite at that privilage yet and unlike Sergei he cant back up his threats with a blade. Not that the girls know that of course, which gives him an advantage over them since they would assume that he is allowed to do whatever. Wonder what will happen if he gets caught or if Kara in a drug addled state spills the beans.

Ah and Sergei being a prick as par the course lol. Watching the video of his own attack and making drunken commentary. Although it seems to have caused a bit of heat to fall on the Mob.

Wonder what Tony's misdirection plan is and whether it involves one of the girls again.
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DrDominator9
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Oh, Those Tricky Men And Women!

Part 67-B



"HEY GALS AND PALS, IT'S 9:15 IN THE A.M. HERE IN SUNNY DUBUQUE."

Kal wakes up suddenly, a blaring radio alarm clock going off somewhere to his left.

"YOU'RE TUNED TO OLDIES RADIO 990, FRIENDS, AND WE'RE GOING TO GET YOUR DAY OFF TO A ROCKIN' START..."

Kal turns on his side, blurry and confused from the depths of his sleep. He awkwardly reaches over toward the maximize-volumed voice of the annoying disc jockey and finds the clock through slitted eyes on the night table.

"...WITH THIS CLASSIC FROM THE BRUCE MAN. MR SPRINGSTEEN HIMSELF SINGING HIS BIGGEST HIT AND ONE OF YOUR FAVORITES. TAKE IT, BRUCIE!"

Kal sees an array of small buttons on the top of the clock. He pushes one but nothing happens.

The famous gravelly voice kicks in with high energy: "BORN IN THE U.S...AAY...AAY. BORN IN THE U.S...AAY...AAY... ..." Kal pushes down the button on the far left to finally silence the infernal noise. The old-style analog face reads 9:16.

Looking around, Kal realizes that he has woken up in a four-poster bed within a well-furnished pale blue bedroom with dramatic seascape oil paintings on the walls. The biggest one commands his attention on the opposite wall. It shows an older, wind-blown, white-haired sailor in a black beret and stained white tunic with a red scarf standing at the bow of a large row boat filled with seamen. He's hurling a harpoon at the back of a gray whale head in the translucent green water a mere six feet away from his boat. Caught in mid-flight, it's obvious that the harpoon cannot miss. Equally obvious is the eye of the whale just above the rugged wave from which he rises. The center of the painting all light seems directed there is the eye. And the eye glistens with awareness of the plight the beast will endure. It is at once morose but accepting, cold with certainty yet glinting with rage. It foretells the doom of not just the single animal but the species itself somehow. It's an incredibly captivating work of art that Kal has to pull his eyes away from, reluctantly. Overhead track lights dimly spread pale white circles on the navy blue bedspread, but they're unnecessary because to his right, glossy blue wood shutters over a full wall of windows allow sunlight to pour through the open slats in brilliant sunny streams that stripe the dark blue carpet. It's clearly morning.

Well-rested with a surprising amount of energy within him, Kal flings aside the covers and sits up with his feet on the floor. Astonishingly, he discovers that he is dressed in his full Superman uniform, complete with cape; and it's perfectly clean, in superb condition. No green slime stains, no trace elements of kryptonite radiation remain to weaken him. Only his boots are off and they're just a few feet away, standing against the side wall, gleaming red, poised and ready to go. Kal shakes his head and actually pinches his arm hard to see if he's dreaming. The pinch hurts enough to tell him this is real. He doesn't feel quite super powered but he sure feels better than he has in months, certainly as strong as a very physically fit human male, maybe a touch more.

What the hell is going on? Where am I? More importantly, where is Lex Luthor? And why would he leave me unattended like this?

Without waiting another second, Kal walks over, picks up his boots then returns to the bed, sits down and pulls them on one at a time.

"This is too good to be true. Luthor is up to something," he murmurs to himself. Got to be very, very careful here, Kal. This is obviously some kind of trap but still it's going to be your one and only chance to escape. Have to be on guard moment to moment.

Walking to the window wall, Kal looks out to see an expanse of grassy flatness with white buildings clustered here and there many yards away. There are no people anywhere. No guards with guns. The window is very thick. Probably bulletproof. No way out that way without my super powers.

Going over to the only door, a hesitant Kal cautiously grasps the doorknob and turns it. Locked! He twists harder and hears the strain of metal within the mechanism. Kal gives the knob another hard twist and pull.

SNAP! THUNK! SPROING!

The door swings open easily in Kal's hand, the lock broken for good.

I'm getting my powers back! Slowly but they're coming! Kal stays in place for a moment, purposely damping down on his rising enthusiasm. He has to be cold-blooded and careful, always thinking. Too much is at stake. Grim-faced now, he opens the door wider and peers out to see a wide chamber outside his room. It is octagonal, easily 20 feet across, and, like the bedroom, beautifully decorated with oils, a mixture of sunny landscapes, portraits and battle scenes, with one stunning work after another on each separate cream-colored wall surrounding the door from which he peers. If this is still Luthor's place, he has to give the man credit for his taste in art. Every work is masterful.

Glancing up, he sees the ceiling must be 50 feet high. Some sort of golden hanging ornament dangles from the roof of this amazing foyer. From his vantage point he cannot tell exactly what the ornament is, but the bottom of it has beautiful black scroll work around a center recessed golden square. Cautiously, he steps out into the octagonal room. The temperature is comfortable and the silence is pervasive. Kal looks for a second doorway but there seems to be no other than the doorway in which he stands. Odd. There was no other apparent exit from the bedroom than this door. Walking across the beautiful cream-and rose-colored marble floor of the octagonal room, Kal looks sharply for seams that would indicate trap doors or hidden passages. Focusing intently on the octagonal-shaped center slab of dark green marble he realizes his x-ray vision is looking behind the marble to a cement floor and beyond that to bare dirt and steel pilings.

Another super power, though minimal still, is at his command. At full power, he could see through to the earth's core.

This is great! Kal grunts with a rush of satisfaction at this. Then, once again, Kal presses hard against his rising enthusiasm. Cold, Kal. Ice cold. Analyze every....

"Hello? Is somebody there?" A female voice floats down from the ornament overhead and Kal looks up. He trains his eyes on the base of the hanging ornament and looks through the gold-painted iron floor to see a stunning golden blonde woman in a yellow leotard, thigh-high bright blue boots with a matching skirt and cape suspended by her wrists by manacles on each end of a wide gold bar inside the gold-painted cage. Inadvertently, his eyes pierce the yellow fabric of her crotch under her skirt and he sees the pink lips of her labia and her triangle of light brown pubic hair.

Not a natural blonde.

A bit embarrassed at his lack of eye control, he raises his gaze a bit. On her chest is a double F emblem in blue letters superimposed over a yellow silhouette of a bird in a pale pink circle. Behind the insignia, two pert pink nipples extend outward, slightly excited.

I'm definitely out of practice with my x-ray vision!

Kal is not familiar with this superheroine but then again, he's been missing in action for a couple of months now. Who knows what's been going on out there?

"Is someone there. I could use a little help here! Really!" The voice is more urgent now.

Pushing off, Kal tests his ability to fly. He can do it a bit, hovering a mere foot above the marble floor. But it's very slow going, like swimming through a current pushing against him. He's able to slowly ascend toward the golden cage overhead but it's painfully slow.

"I'm coming for you, miss," Kal calls out.

"Who is that? Who are you?"

"I'm Superman," Kal replies, meaning it for the first time in a long while.

"Thank god. Superman! I'm saved. Oh, please hurry."

But he really can't. The rise up the octagonal room is annoyingly slow. This power of flight is always the last one to be fully reinstated. He probably already has a good measure of invulnerability. A fair amount of heat vision is probably back, too. In fact, he looks down at the slowly retreating floor and shoots a beam of red at the marble floor. As it heats up, the warm air helps him rise a bit faster but still it's a slow process. He's not quite twenty feet off the ground now, less than halfway to the cage.

"What's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm on my way, Miss. I...uh...am..not...at full strength yet..."

"Well, get here, buddy! I've been hanging here for hours."

Disturbed at her demanding tone, Superman calls out as he continues his snail-like ascent, "Who are you?"

"I'm the Fabulous Finch."

"Ahh...okay," Kal says. "Are you a new heroine?"

"Yeah. I'm a newbie. But I have stopped, you know, like ten robberies in Dubuque in my first month already! Oh, and I stopped the Mad Marauders and got back the Landwell boy when they kidnapped him. Got a big write up in all the Iowan papers and stuff. Even a reward. Why? You mean you've never heard of me?"

"..uh..well. I've been out of action recently." It's bad form to tell a hero or heroine he or she is not famous and Kal is nothing if not polite.

"Yeah! I heard that, now that you mention it. Something to do with Wonder Woman. But you're okay now. You can save me now. Once you get here I mean?"

There was that annoying tone again. Expectation meets exasperation. It was most unbecoming for a heroine, especially one who is held captive from a hanging bar.

The Fabulous Finch...hmmm. The literal bird in a gilded cage. This has to be one of Luthor's traps.

Kal slows his already sluggish ascent and looks around. He should be flying faster by now. Even this power shouldn't be taking so long to return. Admittedly he'd been under the effects of kryptonite for over eight weeks by his crude reckoning so that could be it. Maybe he'll never again be at the full strength he'd had before. Who knows how severely Luthor's torturous experiments and abuse had affected him.

Kal's confidence dwindles as he hangs there in mid-air appraising his situation. The girl could be a set up. She certainly didn't seem like the heroine type, except for the fantastic body she had. Even through solid steel and gold paint, he'd seen a shape that was charged with erotic appeal. There was no denying that. Of course, hanging there for hours would make anyone impatient so he could understand her anxiety causing stress that came out as irritation. Hell, he was irritated as well at the slowness of his powers returning. Looking up, he sees he has about 10 feet or so left to go to reach the cage bottom. And he notices the cream-colored walls now seem to have a soft rosy glow to them. There were horizontal windows at the very top of the ceiling circling the roof. Could they be tinted? It was certainly much too late for sunrise and too early for sunset to create that kind of effect.

Suddenly, Kal realizes he's been passing small inset rings of square panels circling the octagon. Each little square has it's own red painted rose on it. He'd unconsciously been appreciating their beauty during his slow ascent past two of these rings circling the octagon but now he realized they must be the source of the rose-colored tint to the cream walls. Some of the roses seemed brighter than the others, almost glowing like they'd been varnished. And then it hit him. They didn't just seem to be glowing. Some of them were glowing!

"What's the hold-up down there, Superman?"

There's that tone again! Kal looks up to the bottom of the cage and peers through it. He can't even see through to the girl now. He is losing his powers! Nearly forty feet in the air and he definitely feels himself getting weaker. This is not good! He is losing altitude now at an alarming rate. And suddenly there is a scream as the cage bottom swings open. The Fabulous Finch's manacles release automatically and her body drops toward Superman's instinctively upraised arms. Kal catches the beautiful creature with a harsh grunt, her rump draped low in his arms, her face suddenly directly in his, grimacing. Her body is impossibly heavy with gravity. And with that, the beautiful heroine and the shocked and helpless Man of Steel plummet disastrously to the hard marble floor fifteen feet below.


* * *


Tony Bonano sits quietly in the luxurious overstuffed leather armchair with a throwaway cell phone in his hand. The curtains are all drawn and only a table lamp is on. In the dimness of his suite, Tony inputs a rarely used phone number on the keypad of his phone. He puts the cheap device to his ear and listens to it ring three times before his call is answered.

"Yes?" A woman's voice, soft and alluring, purrs in his ear.

"I'm going to need you after all."

"I had a feelin' you would, dahlin'," the voice coos.

"Like we discussed. I'll wire you the amount we agreed on when it's done."

"No, you'll wiah half now. The othah half when it's done."

"Why the change in arrangements?"

"You got new issues, new risks, sugah. That makes it riskiah for me. That's why."

"Fine," Tony sighs. "It'll be in your account in 15 minutes. Just hold up your end."

"And when have I not, precious?"

"You left me a little in the lurch last time."

"Nothing y'all couldn't handle."

"Cross me and you'll regret it."

"Threats? That's not smaht foah a man in your position. You gettin' a teeny bit nervous, honeybun?"

"You can be a loose cannon sometimes, that's all."

"You have no ahdeah how loose I can be, sugah. Especially when y'all piss me off."

The connection clicks off and Tony grimaces at the phone. What did she mean by that? Will she, in fact, hold up her end now? Tony doesn't like how the call had ended at all. Can he count on this bitch now? So much depends on her. But he's out of options at this point. The meet is tomorrow night. It's his only play.

Tony bounces the phone up and down in his hand thinking hard. Then he dials a second number.

"Hello?"

"It's Tony B."

"This is a new number for you. I almost didn't pick up."

"I'm on a throwaway."

"Things are pretty fucked up there I see. The Russian got his ass in a sling. He's lucky he's alive. And now you're drawing the heat."

"Exactly, which is why I need you here to do what we talked about."

"I'll be there in the morning to help take care of my end."

"Thanks. I appreciate it and you'll be paid what we discussed."

"For all you've done for me, Ton, I'm wavin' the fee."

"That's not necessary."

"Consider it a gift."

"You're too generous."

"I wouldn't be where I am without you, Tony. We both know that. I'm happy to be able to help. See you tomorrow. I gotta pack."

"Okay. Tomorrow, I'll have a guy meet your flight. What's the number?"

"United 1157. Terminal A. Newark. I'm calling as soon as I hang up to book it. That flight's never full, so it shouldn't be a problem. If there's a change, I'll let you know."

"Alright. See ya," Tony says.

"Yup," the man replies and hangs up.

Next, Tony places a call to his accountant to arrange the wire transfer to the woman's account. It was a hefty fee but it would be worth it if everything worked out. A very big "if!"

Almost everything's in place. All that's left is the name of the meeting place, and Tony won't know that until 30 minutes beforehand. The mediator, Don Baldini, the venerated old-time Boss of All Bosses was the one who'd pick the place so neither he nor Gino would have an advantage. More likely than not it would be in Manhattan, but Tony couldn't even be sure of that. Timing was critical on this. Now all he can do is wait until tomorrow night. Well, actually there was one more thing. He had to talk to Supergirl about her being his bodyguard at the meeting. Without her, everything could fall to pieces as well.

Standing up from the depths of the comfortable chair, Tony sighs deeply and looks around the suite. This could be the last night he ever sleeps here if things went badly; possibly even if they went well. Deep in thought, he walks over to the elevator and pushes the call button. He has no idea what kind of shape Supergirl is in at the moment. Checking his watch, he sees it's 1 pm. He had about 30 hours left now until everything came together. Or didn't.


* * *


"GHHUUUNNGGHHH!"

Superman lands on his ass first and then his broad back hits the floor. His six-foot three frame absorbs all the shock of his body weight, along with the weight of the young heroine's, slamming brutally against the unyielding marble. Miraculously, the minute amount of invulnerability Kal has left prevents his spine from being shattered to bone shards by the force with which he hits. Still, it hurts him deeply and he moans in fuzzy pain and confusion, prone on the floor with the cradled blonde sprawled on top of his chest.

"...ohhhhhh....owwwww.....Rao....that....hurts...." Whatever powers he has seem completely gone now. He's back to being as strong as a fit human, albeit one who's taken a hard fall.

Scrambling off of the dazed blue and red clad hero as if lying there on his body would generate shock waves through her that would paralyze her, the Fabulous Finch hurriedly gets to her feet. She raises herself up to her full five-foot-eight-inch height and brushes her hair back out of her face with a wide flourish.

"Wow! That was a horrible rescue," says the dismayed heroine as she smooths her yellow bird silhouette over her shapely 34 C breasts, meticulously straightening out each wrinkle. "What's the matter with you, Superman?"

"...lost my powers..." Kal lies there on the cold green marble trying to suppress the stabbing pain in his back and his butt.

"But you were flying. You caught me!"

"...lost them just at that moment..."

"Does that happen to you....like...a lot?" She poses this as if it is a sexual performance problem that repeatedly happens to him.

"...what?...NO!" He blurts loudly, then groans as he gingerly pulls himself into a sitting position, his head down, breathing evenly to handle the pain. His cape is draped across his chest and he flings it behind him in anger at her constantly irritating attitude.

"Need a hand?" She holds hers out to help him stand up but he ignores her petulantly.

"I can do it," he growls, his hands on his knees as he straightens his back and slowly brings himself to a full upright position. He finally looks down at the blonde beauty from his seven-inch height advantage and sees her looking up at him with obvious skepticism.

"You sure you're Superman? 'Cause, ya' know, you sure don't act like him."

"I'm Superman. I was captured by Lex Luthor just like you were."

"Jeez. So he was behind that attack on Wonder Woman?"

"Well, actually, no. But...look it's complicated and we don't have the time to discuss this. We have to get out of here. What powers do you have?"

"Gosh, I have all sorts of powers. I can sing so sweetly that I can hypnotize people into following my commands. Oh, and I can fly. And, uh, I can do fifteen different fighting techniques."

"That's good. Those may all come in handy while we try to escape."

"Except I don't have any of them right now. Well, maybe I can do the fight thing but not my usual fierce kick-ass super-fast moves."

"Why? What happened to your powers?" Kal asks brusquely, annoyed at this late-coming information.

"Hey, fuck you! What happened to yours, buster? You're one to cop an attitude! Almost gettin' me killed."

"Would you prefer still being hung up there in a cage?" Kal's had just about enough of this harping heroine. With no powers, she'd be more of a drag than any help in his escape anyway.

"Beats being 'saved' by a loser with no powers like you." She air quotes the 'saved' with bitter irony, staring at him with a sulky expression of a ten-year old.

"Look, Fabulous...uh, do you have a real name I can use? Something shorter than Fabulous Finch?"

"Hey! That's my secret identity, pal. I ain't telling you that, seein' how you're so lame and all. Hell, you'll probably squeal it the moment Luthor gets hold of you again."

"Fine! Look, FF, either we try to work together nicely or we go our separate ways. How do you want to work this?" Kal's tone is harsh. He's almost hoping she prefers to go her own way.

"Jeez, ain't you the sensitive one. Got your panties all in a bunch 'cause I don't bow to the great Man of Steel."

"Great, then. Good luck," Kal turns and starts to walk back to the bedroom to search for secret panels that might lead him out of this hellish place.

"No, wait!" The buxom blonde beauty grabs Kal's arm in desperation and yanks him backward. Despite her size, her strength is impressive and she almost pulls a startled Superman right off his feet. He spins in place and the two smack together chest to chest. Disoriented by the sudden heave, Kal stands there toe to toe with the beautiful blonde who's holding his wrist with one hand and smoothly running her palm across his broad "S" insignia with her other.

"Hey, don't get so mad. I'm only jerking your chain a little." Her hand massages his pecs now and slide down to his abs. He grabs her wrists before she can go lower.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kal is getting angry now. He can't waste time with this lame heroine. He's got to find a way out of this place.

"Gosh, you're so tense. You gotta learn to loosen up a little, lover boy. " FF leans into Kal's body suddenly, her pelvis brushing against his trunks. The smooth material of her skirt against his costume trunks feels erotic and warm. Stunned, Superman extends his arms brusquely, pulling her body off of his with a jerk.

"Knock that off! Don't you want to get out of here, too?"

"Well sure I do."

"Then stop being a problem and start helping me find a way out." He lets her go and she stands there looking up at him blankly.

"Like where?"

"For starters, I'm going back into the bedroom to see if there are any secret panels I missed."

"Oooh. The bedroom. Kinky!" FF follows him closely.

"How did you get to be a heroine anyway?" Kal yanks the door open and strides into the plush bedchamber.

"An industrial accident in a bird sanctuary."

This stops Superman in his tracks and he turns to look at the blonde with complete astonishment. "You're joking!"

"Not at all. I was a worker in the Eastern U.S. aviary section at the zoo near here. It's kind of a sanctuary with supplemental funding from the Department of the Interior. Anyway, I kind of accidentally spilled some new chemical they were testing to enhance tree growth and then there was this sudden freak summer storm and a lightening strike. Next thing I know, I'm spitting out feathers in a hospital bed with the ability to sing in ways that lull people to a state where I can hypnotize them."

"Really?" Kal is frozen in place at the absurdity of this.

"I didn't find out about the flying until I was discharged. But the singing ability got me plenty of free Jello while I was recuperating, let me tell you. Oh, and all that fighting stuff I learned on my own, but my metabolism is pretty fast so I'm like super quick in my reflexes thanks to my birdie friends."

"Remarkable," Kal mutters. It was almost too crazy not to believe. The Man of Steel begins to search the room now for hidden seams in the floors and walls as the two of them talk. Fabulous Finch wanders around the room letting her fingertips graze against surfaces and glancing around blithely but not trying particularly hard to spot any escape hatches.

"Cool crib!" FF says enthusiastically.

"So, how did Luthor neutralize your powers?"

"Yeast."

This stops Superman in his tracks yet again. He turns to her with an eyebrow raised high.

"Yeast?" He waits for her explanation.

"No lie! It was in a dinner that his flunky spiked. He was a cute guy who I rescued which was like, so staged, you know, for my benefit. So he invites me to dinner to thank me for the rescue and all, then mickeys the food. What a prick! Anyway, specifically, he used some kind of special yeast or something that caused what Luthor called a Candida infection. It was the pits, let me tell you! It gave me these grody white sores all over my mouth and throat and made me puke like you wouldn't believe."

"Sounds nasty," Kal sympathizes thinly while lifting the hem of the bedspread and checking underneath. He still doesn't have his powers back but he doesn't feel sore at all anymore. A very good sign.

"True, right? Anyway, the stooge bagged me in burlap while I'm totally out of it and he took me here to Luthor's fortress."

"What had you done to cross Luthor's path?"

"You know, I really don't know that. I mean this fortress of his is right here in Dubuque, Iowa, which is, you know, my home city that I protect and guard, so I guess he felt threatened by a superheroine like me patrolling his territory."

"Who wouldn't be," Kal says, biting his tongue to hide his mirth. As if Luthor would feel threatened by this bird brain. What a story! Could any of it possibly be true?

"What do you mean by that? Are you dissin' me? Feels like you're dissin' me."

"No. I'm not." Kal looks up and puts on his most earnest face, then changes the subject. "So we're in Dubuque. That's good to know. Uhhh...how long until you think you get your powers back?"

"I'm not sure about that, since, like this is the first time I ever had this Candida crap."

Kal lifts the bed by the corner leg and it suddenly feels remarkably light. He lifts it four feet up in the air, tilting all the bedclothes to the other side. Right behind him, FF's eyes go wide when she sees how easily he accomplishes this.

"Well, we may be in luck," Superman says with a broad smile as he turns his head toward her. "I think my powers are slowly coming back,"

"Sure looks that way. Yipee!" Fabulous Finch jumps up and down in place, clapping her hands and making her skirt fly up and down and her breasts shake and bounce long after her feet come to rest. She then gives the mighty hero a big hug from behind, pressing her breasts against his broad back. He can feel the warmth of her through his costume and sighs, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation. That's when he sees the air duct grille.

"Could you let go of me please, FF!"

"Sure. Sorry. I just get excited easily." She releases him and backs off as he turns around and points up to the ceiling.

"That might be our escape route," he says, nodding at the air duct in the twelve-foot high ceiling."

"You think you can fit in that?"

"It might be tight but I, yes, I think so."

"Well, hurry up and fly up to see if you can undo that grilly thing," she demands. "I do want to get out of here. I don't like it that Luthor hasn't checked in on us. How come you think he hasn't done that?"

"Maybe he went somewhere and thought we were safe. Probably thought his automated system could handle us. Knowing Luthor, most likely it's a trap of some kind. But we don't have any options. And time is running out. My powers are taking too long for me to break through that window there. It's bullet-proof glass."

"Hunnh, what do you know. He thinks of everything."

"He usually does," Kal grimaces. "Since I can't fly yet, why don't you get on my shoulders and see if you can unfasten those four retaining screws. When I can fly again, we might actually get away from this fortress by sneaking past his defenses."

"Sure wish I could fly by now. Bald bastard! I hate him."

"Well I certainly haven't 'friended' him on Facebook," Kal grins.

"Whoa! A joke! You must be feeling better."

"Come on, let's get you up there so we can get out of here," Kal says. "Bend your arms and make your elbows stiff." He gets behind her when she does that and picks her up easily, lifting her over his head so she can sit on his shoulders. Her crotch nudges up against the back of his head.

"You should be able to reach up easily and twist those steel screws. They're not painted over so that's a bit of luck." Superman holds FF's thighs firmly in his palms as she reaches up to the grill. She twists at the first retaining screw, bending forward awkwardly as she does. One hand is trying to turn the screw while the other grips the top of Kal's head to steady herself.

"Hold me tighter! Don't let me fall!"

"Don't worry. I've got you. You're light as a bird."

"Another joke," she says, looking down at the top of his head. "But, look, I'm not crazy about heights."

"Kind of a handicap for a bird, isn't it," Kal asks with skepticism.

"I'm workin' through it, smart ass! Hey! Stop tilting!"

"I'm not doing anything. Just center yourself on my shoulders. I can move back if you want so you don't have to reach out as much. Hey! What are you doing?"

Fabulous Finch suddenly pulls her thighs out of Kal's grip, presses her hands on the top of his head and hoists her body up and pivots her entire figure 180 degrees. She then lowers down so that her crotch is now directly in front of a startled Superman's face.

"There, that's much better. I don't feel like I'm constantly falling backward now." Her thighs clamps against Kal's ears as he looks up. He sees now that she can easily reach up for the retaining screw in comfortable balance, one hand casually braced against the ceiling while the other works on turning the screw.

"It's kind of tight but I think I feel it moving."

Superman holds on to the blonde heroine's hips as she works the screw. Leaning forward a bit then tilting back, the Finch's pelvis rocks slightly in Superman's face. Her skirt rides up and covers Superman's head. She leans forward again to get a better grip on the screw and the skirt focuses all of her scent directly into Kal's face. He's never smelled a perfume like this before. Exotic and earthy. Gentle yet insistent as it permeates his nostrils. With his hands on her hips, he can't shake the skirt off without looking like foolish. The perfumed scent of her body so close to his nose wafts against him like a physical force. Helpless to do anything about it, Superman stands there and absorbs the scent of her, holding his ground and trying to remain unmoved. Wrinkle lines in her leotard accent the fabric as her crotch writhes before his eyes. In his trunks, Kal feels a stirring.

"That's one screw done," Fabulous Finch says, letting the screw drop to carpet below. How you doin' down there, Superman?"

Kal realizes he hasn't even been looking up, just staring straight ahead at the golden yellow leotard under this beauty's shiny blue skirt, mesmerized by the scent and view.

"I...uh...am...good...but...could you...ahh..push your skirt down."

"Oh, sorry, big fella. Sure thing." She pushes the skirt tighter over his head and chuckles loudly as she rocks her pelvis forward and grinds it in Kal's face. His nose actually grazes against the crease of the cleft of fabric created by her labia. There's even the hint of moistness there. "Is that better?"

"...what...NO!" He rears his head back in shock, teetering in place slightly. A bit dizzy by the perfume of her thighs and startled in equal measure by her raunchy behavior.

"Hey! Stay still. You're shaking me. I'm sorry. I was just joking with you." Fabulous Finch lifts her skirt off Superman's head and tucks it between her legs so it blocks her crotch. "There! All better. Nice and proper!"

"...uh...thank you..." murmurs a flustered, red-faced Superman, looking up the length of her body toward her face. Her generous round breasts from this angle eclipse the view significantly. Her nipples dimple the yellow leotard noticeably. FF seemed to be enjoying the ride and the feeling in his shorts wasn't going away either.

"You're such a Boy Scout!" FF reaches up and starts on the second screw.

But once again her leaning and tilting to wrest the screw from its tight hold on the grill cover causes her thin blue skirt to pull away, rise just enough and lightly brush against Superman's eyebrows. This exposes her yellow crotch and focuses the scent directly into Kal's face once more. Inadvertently, in a mild daze from the crotch in his face, Superman's hands slide down a bit, the palms holding tight to the wide upper expanse of FF's rear.

"This screw is a tough one but I'm getting it now," he hears her say. Definite stirring now in his shorts as Kal's penis begins to twitch and grow. Overhead, unseen from under the skirt, the track lights have begun to emit a soft rosy glow.


* * *

By the time the fourth screw is finally removed and Fabulous Finch drops the duct grille cover to the carpet, Superman has a raging boner in his shorts, is highly distracted and completely disoriented. He stands there with his hands now firmly stretched across FF's rear, squeezing her butt cheeks, a blank expression on his face.

"That takes care of that," she declares. Then she puts her hands on his shoulders, hoists her pelvis in the air and lowers herself down. Her body slowly slides downward, pressing against Superman's body, her warmth caressing against his tight uniform as her figure grazes the length of him. She stops herself just when her chest is even with Kal's face and she leans forward so her breasts engulf Superman's nose.

"I'm just so happy we're going to get out of here. Aren't you?"

"...i...uh...yes." Kal mumbles. "...i...am..."

When she finally lets herself down completely and her bright blue boots settle in the carpet, Fabulous Finch's palm gently caresses against Superman's trunks, feeling his foot-long member straining against the red fabric. Her palm encompasses the swollen muscle and gently squeezes.

"Looks like you're very happy about this escape plan, too, Superman."

"...huuuhnnn..." The Man of Steel groans as he wavers in place, bewildered at his inability to resist the amazing sensations circulating through his body and mind. His arms automatically circle the blonde beauty's waist and his hands come to rest on her ass cheeks, squeezing them without any awareness of doing so.

"By the way, I don't think I properly thanked you for rescuing me from becoming a bloody spot on the marble floor out there." While one hand squeezes the generous bulging package in his costume briefs, FF's other reaches up and circles Superman's neck, pulling his head down to her face for a kiss. Her lips graze lightly against his own, his mouth slightly slack with befuddled lightheadedness. She pulls on his neck more aggressively and then presses her lipstick-glazed mouth firmly against Superman's own. She gives him a long, hard smooch, her lips locking against his, sealing tight with greedy air-sucking need.

"Mmmmmmmm!" Fabulous Finch hums with delight as she kisses the Man of Steel.

"...hhhuuummm??..." The intoxicated hero sways helplessly in place now, rooted to the spot as her tongue slides into his mouth and entwines with his. She slowly strokes the swollen dick within his shorts, her palm gripping him through the fabric and her fingernails lightly tracing the outline of his rock-hard junk. Her hand plies his neck, holding his head down as her deep soul kiss combines with her handjob to put an end to the last vestiges of Superman's willpower.

When she finally breaks the kiss and releases his neck but not the hold on his dick, Fabulous Finch murmurs into Superman's ear, "I think it's time we let this snake out of his cage. What do you say?"

"...uhh...yeh....."

"Good boy. Pull down your pants."

"...but...i..."

Sliding her palm up the full length of Superman's raging bulge and then sliding in inside his waistband and gripping the warm hard muscle in her gentle fist, the blonde temptress coos up into Superman's confused face, "You do want to slide this looong, haaarddd toool into my WET, HOT, DEEP Vagina, don't you, champ?"

"...yes...really...really...do..."

"I can feel that you do. And let me tell you a secret..." She crooks her finger at him and the Man of Steel dazedly lowers his head closer to her. She grabs a fistful of his dark hair, pulls his face down with a rough yank, and plants another kiss on him, smearing her lips against his. Then she seals her mouth against his and searches his with her over-eager tongue. Superman's eyes go wide at first and then slowly lower to half mast as her hand slides, rubs and caresses the mushroom head of his pre-cum-slickened cock. A small spot of the pre-cum stains through to the front of Superman's shorts, accenting his desire in a most humiliating way.

"...uuuhhhhnnn..!..." Superman groans within his throat as his mouth is fully occupied. His thoughts evaporate with the pleasure FF is doling out. She pulls away from him and continues her thought.

"My secret is...I really, really want you inside me, big guy."

"......nice..."

"So pull your pants down."

"...kay..."

Superman unbuckles his belt and pulls down his trunks until they sag on his thighs, freeing his immense, 12" rigid pole.

"Whoa!" Fabulous Finch inhales a deep breath of wide-eyed joy at her good fortune here. She'd heard rumors about Superman's tool but to have it pointing right at her pelvis is a treat she never quite believed would happen. But she doesn't hesitate a second longer. Putting her arms around Superman's neck, she hops up and circles her legs around his waist, gripping him tightly with her calves pressing against him and locking her ankles behind his back. She quickly pulls aside the crotch of her leotard and lowers her wet pussy down onto the throbbing Rod of Steel. It slides deeply into her and she grunts deeply in stunned satisfaction at its girth and depth. And he's only halfway in!

"GHUUUNNHH! Ohhhh. Dammmnnnnn, that's...that's....great!"

"Oohhhhhhh. Feels...good..." Superman says, wrapping his arms around her and gripping her ass to bring her body closer against his own, to savor her warmth and drink in her scent.

"WHOA?! WAIT! STOP! UUNGGH! DON'T! HEY! HOLD UP THERE, TIGER! OHHHH...OHH....GOD! STOP...STOP...STOP... DAMMIT!"

Fabulous Finch has pulled away roughly from the confused champion and now hangs limply in Superman's grip. Her ankles have unlocked and her calves weakly, bump against the outsides of his knees. Her back is arched and her body is almost horizontal, parallel to the floor. Her arms dangle loosely as she holds her neck up and pants like she's in a Lamaze class. She is impaled by his cock and is trying to relax her inner muscles to accommodate his massive size. Superman's hands hold onto the middle of FF's back, supporting her easily.

"Jeez! Give a lady a little time to enjoy the wrapping paper, would ya?"

"..uhh...sorry..." Kal mumbles.

Grabbing his forearms, FF pulls herself up from her dazed, yet excited faint. She lets gravity do its thing and slowly slides back down onto Superman's flag-pole like prick, stopping the momentum every now and then until he's three quarters buried inside her warm, tight snatch.

"Better. That's better," she says and rocks her pelvis gently to stimulate herself and aid in her lubrication. "Man, you're huge."

"...deeper...want to go...deeper..."

"And I want you deeper. But we have to take a little more time, bruiser. We're gettin' there! Give me a chance. Why don't you walk over there so I can lean my back up against that wall."

"...kay..." The robotic-like Man of Steel does as he's told. Luthor's aphrodisiac, developed using the Kryptonian's own semen, has completely overtaken Superman's libido and his will. Having sprayed it all over FF's body, Luthor knew the long-lasting drug would overwhelm the big galoot's senses as long as the activated red sun lamps sapped his powers. Hell, even with his powers, the stuff would do a number on him. But the lamps had worked like a charm. First in the Octagon tower and now here in the bedroom. The idiot would have had a real chance to escape if he'd used half a brain and looked out for himself but, of course, the helpless female scenario was virtually a sure thing with this do-gooder.

There were several scenarios he had worked out with the blonde contractor to bring down Superman. This was one of his favorites. Watching from a monitor inside the hidden passageway behind the large whaling painting, Lex is thrilled with how Daphne Locke has handled her assignment. The failed Olympic gymnast and small-time actress was better than he'd dreamed. Sure, he'd prepped her with the ridiculous Fabulous Finch backstory and how he thought Superman would go the obvious duct route, but still, the way she engaged Kal-El and completely kept him off-balance with her patter and her overt sexuality had been nothing short of outstanding.

And the Red Sun lamps tested out perfectly. They weren't overly bright in appearance to give them away but they were highly effective in short range applications, rendering the Kryptonian completely powerless in 95 seconds. It was too bad he couldn't get the timing down to 30 seconds or less, but the Kryptonian physiology acted like a storage battery when it came to sunlight. You could only drain it down so fast. Still, Luthor was smiling like the Cheshire cat as he watched the brainless dolt walk mindlessly toward the very wall he was hiding behind. Now the only test was how long the aphrodisiac would take to wear off after ejaculation. Based on the earlier experiment using the Wonder Woman DVDs on Superman, he thought it would be approximately two minutes or so for the brainwaves to reorganize and real-world awareness to return.

"Okay there, stud," purrs Fabulous Finch, both arms braced against Superman's biceps and her legs locked around his back again. "You're all the way in and I'm in heaven. You may initiate thrust sequence!"

"..whuhht..?..."

"Start pumping those hips, silly. Give us both a good time, stud muffin."

"YES!" The mighty Man of Steel crows with happiness and reacts like a horse out of the starting gate at the Kentucky Derby. He begins to pull and push his massive schlong in and out of the great-smelling blonde woman's vagina at a frenzied pace. He buries his face in her neck and pumps away with total abandon, savoring the smell of her as his cock pistons into her warm channel again and again and again. Fabulous Finch is ready for him but there's no way to be ready for him. Not really. It's overwhelming to her very quickly and she shouts with frenzied passion as Superman humps away at her with mindless need.

"OH WOW! OHHH MY LORD! GO FOR IT YOU FUCKING SAVAGE FROM ANOTHER PLANET! DO ME. DO ME RIGHT!"

"GOOD. SO GOOD," Kal mutters as he cushions her back from hitting the wall with one hand as his other mauls her breasts in wide sweeping passes of his sweating hands. FF can't stop her head from banging against it every now and then but the stars she's seeing don't matter in the least. Her whole body feels like it's being invaded by the Mongul hordes. She spreads her legs straight out since Superman was holding her securely and concentrates on feeling the huge pole move in and out, in and out of the center of the universe that is her vagina. The tightness, the size, the heat, the motion, it's beyond any sexual experience the gymnast has ever felt. And she's felt a lot in her day.

Suddenly, when an enthusiastic Superman's finger moves from flipping at her rock-hard nipples to probing the depth of her asshole, FF loses it completely. It was so unexpected and so satisfying. Out of nowhere, the orgasm loomed over her like a tidal wave on a calm day at the beach. And it exploded on the million grains of sand that is her mind.

"WWHAA..?..WHOA....WH...WAIT...TOO...SOO...SOOON....I...I...OHHHH... OOHHHHH..... OHHHHHH... YEEEEAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!"

The Finch was a jerking, spasming, helpless torso. Her mind was obliterated and her heart was pounding in her own ears as she experienced total body meltdown. Nothing in her athletic career had approached anything like this. She didn't know how to handle it and so she didn't. She simply fainted in Superman's arms, her body a limp, sagging bag of bones, legs dangling, head back, drool running, panties soaked, thighs running with her drizzling cum.

And her jerking had set him off as well. As she hung there in his arms like lifeless sock puppet, his world condensed into a black hole then exploded into a supernova. Semen from a libido hyper-charged by powerful, undeniable chemistry rushed out of Superman into the spent beauty's cooz in an endless jet of thick white pleasure. He clutched her body to him and leaned with her against the wall, his sweaty forehead pressed against the blue paint, staining it dark. He had no thoughts of his own. Only the flowing pleasure of his release as it spewed from him in torrents. His knees knocked against the wall and then he collapsed onto them, spent in ecstacy, yet protectively cradling the senseless blonde in his arms. Slowly he folded down onto the floor and the two of them drifted in a timeless void of bright white pleasure and then pitch black senselessness. Cum ran thickly into the blue carpet.

When Lex Luthor climbed out from the passageway hidden behind the swung open whaling painting, Superman was drooling with his head on the Fabulous Finch's chest, the two of them entwined in a lovers knot of legs and arms. Lex pulled the unconscious Man of Steel away from his pretty sleeping prize, loaded him on an anti-grav pallet and brought him back to the kryptonite slime tank in the main room. Annoyed that he didn't get a reading on how long the aphrodisiac lasted after ejaculation, Luthor angrily tilted the pallet with a simple turn of a knob. With that, Luthor unceremoniously dumped a senseless Superman back into the slime tub with a thud and a splash, then quietly closed the glass cover, his experiment over. The results of most of it very successful. He'd have to check on the aphrodisiac's "Sustain increment after ejaculation" another time. But he had plenty of time. Superman wasn't going anywhere.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Ooh poor Kal, so close to a possible escape yet outwitted again by Lex and his hired help. Given that Kara has been captured and exposed to kryptonite a bit longer than Superman, i wonder what, if any, long term effects to her powers will be.
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TaliaAlGhul101 wrote:Ooh poor Kal, so close to a possible escape yet outwitted again by Lex and his hired help. Given that Kara has been captured and exposed to kryptonite a bit longer than Superman, i wonder what, if any, long term effects to her powers will be.
Since Supergirl hasn't been exposed nearly as unceasingly to that deadly mineral as Superman her recovery to her full unmitigated powers might be expected to be much less than Kal's recovery...providing she ultimately escapes.
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For those of you who might be new to this series, this little intro might help you enjoy the series without having to read through over 60 chapters.

Capsulized Review of Series Developments

The Long View: At the start of this series, young Mafia Don Tony Bonano captured Supergirl in order to get her out of the way so he could increase his mob activities in the South Bronx. He vowed to Supergirl that he would turn her into a crack whore under his control for a full year. Within a week’s time, using kryptonite, crack and sex, the brash don and his crew, including the Russian enforcer Sergei Zhukovia, successfully engineered this shocking transformation of the Maid of Steel. He even released a series of erotic DVDs of Supergirl performing countless sex acts that helped earn him millions while ruining Supergirl’s reputation.

Tony’s partnership with his mentor, the respected elder Don Carmine Vega along with hefty contributions to the mob’s general operating fund, helped solidify his position among the mob’s ruling families. When Wonder Woman came looking for Supergirl, Tony was able to organize her capture as well.

Even Superman was caught in the process of trying to help rescue Wonder Woman. The Man of Steel was eventually wrested from Tony’s control by Lex Luthor, an occasional partner of Tony and supplier of advanced technology. At present, Superman remains under Lex’s control and has been subjected to constant experiments to determine his physical and mental capabilities and stamina.

Wonder Woman was also forced into a life of prostitution by Tony’s regimen of beatings, sex and heroin. She was turned into a heroin addict to help control her. A series of DVDs of the famous feminist heroine’s sexual exploits has proven even more successful than the Supergirl series, bringing even more millions to Tony and his men while completely trashing Wonder Woman’s standing in the eyes of the world.

What’s Gone on Recently: The pressure on Tony to release Supergirl and Wonder Woman has been building steadily over the past several chapters from the public, the police and from Tony’s rival, Don Gino Lupenzo. There has been bad blood between Tony and Gino since Tony’s father was killed by Gino when Tony was just a boy. And now, a street war between Tony and Gino has killed key people on both sides, including Gino’s brother by Carmine. With bodies mounting up on both sides, there’s considerable pressure for a resolution.

Stevie, Tony’s videographer and DVD editor was one of Tony’s crew that was killed and his replacement, Carlo has been taking advantage of his access to Supergirl to screw her in every way he can imagine. To further complicate Tony’s situation, a failed hit against Sergei led to a shootout in a local drug store with Sergei tossing a baby in a stroller at the gunmen to avoid being killed. This heinous act made the front page of the New York papers forcing the Russian to go into hiding. He’s hid out in a town in New Jersey and dyed his hair and beard black as a disguise.

In an effort to bring this growing war to a conclusion, an interim truce has been declared and a meeting has been scheduled between Tony and Gino for 5 o’clock tomorrow night, the place to be determined by Don Tomas Baldini, the 78-year-old ruling head of the Baldini family, the boss of all bosses and an impartial arbitrator from the Mafia’s core families.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Just Another Day on the Job
Part 68


The elevator ride up to the penthouse between Tony and Carmine was silent and pensive. Both of them were avoiding the heavy topic of all that was going to happen between now and the “meet” with Gino. Tony had told Carmine he needed to think things through before they discussed how to handle the crucial meeting. So the elder don was simply standing with his arms crossed thinking as well.

Tony thought Carmine had aged in the last couple of months. The man hadn’t gone through this much stress since his early days in the mob. No wonder he looked pale and tired. Carmine was worried about the meeting, Tony mused. The man worried incessantly but lately, he’d taken it to new heights. But there was reason to. There were so many unknown variables going on lately. And the meeting was the culmination of all the unknowns.

All that they did know for sure was that the time was set for 5 pm Saturday night, a mere 28 hours from now. And that no guns were going to be allowed, everyone would be frisked. Each man was allowed two associates. Tony was bringing Supergirl as his bodyguard. Carmine was coming for his insights, his fast thinking and to help keep Gino, his old friend from the neighborhood, calm if the discussion got heated. Tony didn’t know who was going to keep him from getting angry. Probably Carmine would keep him cool him too.

Tony wasn’t absolutely sure who Gino was bringing but he had a good idea. He knew it wasn’t going to be his brother. Carmine had seen to that not long ago by killing the man in the Top Hat bar. Tony figured Gino would bring the brighter of his two goons for muscle. He thought Gino might bring an outsider who could somehow handle Supergirl. But who could do that? Lex Luthor? Some rogue super villain? Tony could only hope it was someone with a cool head. Someone he knew perhaps.

The mediator Don Baldini would try to get both men to agree to stop the war and make peace. That wasn’t likely to happen. Tony would go in with an open mind but he was thinking through a series of backup plans to ensure that if things went bad, he’d at least have some control over the situation. The whole situation was dicey at best.

“The Giants are a crap shoot for Sunday,” Carmine says, breaking the silence. “Never know how they’re going to play this year. Up and down. Things look great for a few series, then they can’t move the ball to save their lives. At least Eli’s playing well.”

“If it weren’t for Manning, they’d be nowhere. He’s come a long way in the last six years,” Tony replies.

The elevator doors slide open and the pair of mob dons walk into the penthouse suite. They see the two heroines sitting at the table in the breakfast nook eating salads for lunch.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Tony says, walking over.

“Hello Tony,” Supergirl replies cooly She’s wearing tight blue jeans and a blue silk blouse. Her eyes are fixed on her salad bowl as she munches away.

Wonder Woman is dressed in tan shorts and a yellow t-shirt that reads “Pleasure Dome: Bronx’s Favorite Hangout for Adult Fun.”

Her greeting is cool as well to Tony. She nods sullenly at him and Carmine.

“You ladies look particularly fetching today."

“Right,” Kara answers.

“Do we have a problem, Supergirl?”

“No, I ...uh...I’m just shakey, strung out. Can you hook me up, Ton? Please!” She gives him the baby blues which are hesitant and slightly unfocused.

“I guess it has been a while since your last time. Carlo was supposed to give you some this morning at around 8. But you look like you missed your morning ‘feeding.’ What happened?”

“He never showed this morning. I don’t think. I didn’t wake up until 11 this morning and he never left it or knocked on our bedroom door. Nothing.”

“You didn’t get yours either?” Tony raises his eyebrows at Diana who stabs a radish with particular fierceness, forks it up to her mouth and grinds it to pulp with moody determination.

“No,” she answers, “I didn’t.”

“Well, I can see how you two would be out of sorts with that kind of shoddy service. I shall have a word with the resort’s staff. Someone shall be sacked, I assure you.” Tony walks up behind Wonder Woman and puts his hand on her shoulder. She tenses up slightly but keeps on eating. He smiles widely at Kara.

“You think it’s so funny? I’d like to see you go five hours without a fix with the habit you gave me,” Kara growls.

“Or mine,” Diana adds.

“Watch your tone, cunts,” Carmine says, from the sofa where he’s sat down to read the newspaper report of Sergei’s trouble from yesterday morning.

“Carmine, Carmine,” Tony smooths over the harshness of the older don’s words with syrupy lightness, “is that anyway to talk to a superheroine? Especially to one who’s about to get down on her knees and suck your cock?”

“Seems like the perfect word to me,” Carmine says. “Unless they prefer ‘whore’ I suppose.”

“What am I going to do with him? He’s just old-school. There’s no changing him now,” Tony says with a wink to the two scowling women working their way through their salads. If either is upset at the name-calling neither is letting it disturb their appetite. With all they’ve gone through, profanity being thrown at them is not something that raises their hackles anymore. Once, they might have extended a nasty beating to anyone who dissed them. These days, it wasn’t worth the trouble or risk the possible payback.

“I’m not giving him a bj!” Supergirl snarls. “Besides, I feel horrible.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Tony’s voice gets quiet and cold. “You haven’t forgotten who’s in charge here and who controls your crack supply, have you SUPERGIRL?” The sarcasm Tony lays out thickly on her name is undeniable. “I can’t believe someone with such a super powerful brain can have forgotten something so basic.”

“No. I haven’t forgotten,” Supergirl says with sullen contempt. “I’m just feeling sick and out of sorts. I wouldn’t give him a good one right now anyway with how I feel.”

“I understand. I guess with no Sergei around and with all your super powers back, the mighty Maid of Steel is feeling a little of the old spirit flowing through again, huh? That it, Kara? Feeling spunky are we?”

“Tony, all I’m saying is I’d rather not right now. Not until I get some of that cocaine in me at least. That’s not too much to....AAAGGHHHHH!

The blazing green light that floods the breakfast nook from the overhead ceiling fixture drains all the pink from Supergirl’s face, exchanging it for a sickly green. Her mouth has dropped open and her eyes are squeezed tightly shut in agony from the deadly radiation. Her back is arched against the hard back chair and the powerful champion is reduced to quaking helplessness in mere fractions of a second from the levels of poisonous energy being poured down upon her.

Wonder Woman has her fork in mid-air during all this, momentarily frozen in shock. Tony’s hand flies from her shoulder to her head, grasps her skull tightly and smashes the Amazon’s face hard onto the surface of the glass topped table.

THHOONNKKK!

“UUGGNNHH!”

Yanking her head back up and twisting it harshly, Tony jerks Diana’s stunned figure off the chair and heaves her to the floor.

“Carmine. Keep the Amazon on ice for a moment while I tend to this smart-mouthed bitch,” Tony commands, pointing to the dazed Wonder Woman lying on her side on the kitchen floor while looking at Supergirl.

The older don is off the couch with his pistol at Diana’s temple before she even has her wits about her.

“Take it easy, champ. Your girlfriend is just gonna get a refresher course in respecting Mafia dons.”

Tony strides over to the swooning blonde beauty and nails her with short right cross to her cheek.

“Oww!” This snaps Supergirl’s head sideways and knocks her off the chair in an ungainly sprawl on the floor. Following up, Tony quickly kneels beside Supergirl, turns her so she’s on her back, her eyes clouded, her mouth slack. He sits down on her stomach, grabs her hair with both hands and smashes her head against the floor three times, hard. Then he lets go and watches his dumbstruck, defeated quarry.

The lesson was over before she knew what hit her. Supergirl’s eyes squint through a thick fog of confusion and pain. The blinding green light continues to send waves of fiery sickness down on her and the blonde champion lies there in battered defeat in less than 15 seconds time.

Pulling himself off her, Tony grabs a fistful of thick blonde locks and drags a dazed and helpless Supergirl across the kitchen floor, past a grim Wonder Woman with a gun to her head and down the two small steps onto the sea foam green carpet.

Thump. Thump.

Tony leaves her face up with her head near the base of the couch, then walks back to Carmine, puts his hand beside the older don’s and takes the gun from him, keeping the muzzle against Wonder Woman’s temple.

“Okay, Carm. She’s all yours. I’m sure she’ll be fine now about giving you one of her stellar blowjobs.”

“Thanks, Tony. You’re the best boss,” Carmine grins, then turns and heads over to the couch. He steps over Supergirl and sits down.

“My pleasure. And you, you’re not going to give me any lip, are you, Wonder Woman. Except when I ask for it....or them, to be more precise?”

“No, no lip, Tony. You can lose the gun.”

“Smart girl.” Tony touches a button on the remote in his pants pocket and the kryptonite sunlamp shuts off, the fixture resetting to the normal wash of warm white fluorescence.

At the couch, a dazed Supergirl moans aloud. Carmine nudges her shoulder with his shoe.

“Come on, blondie, get up on your knees and get to work. Make that mouth of yours all soft and wet, hero. Soft and wet is what I like. Do a good job and you’ll get your crack, champ, your favorite: Vanilla Pudding.”

The famous girl champion rolls over slowly, shaking her head numbly, bringing herself back to full consciousness. The after effects of the dazzling kryptonite sunlamp are quickly dissipating now. Supergirl hoists herself up to her knees and puts her palms on Carmine’s pants, ever so gently squeezing his thighs as she scowls briefly at what’s she’s compelled to do.

“Let’s see that lovely smile while you’re at it, Supergirl. I’d hate to think you don’t enjoy giving head to an old guy like me. Try not to let my paunch bother you as you’re sucking my dick, hero.”

“Yes Carmine,” Supergirl answers meekly, back in her defeated mode. The famous teen dynamo then slowly pulls down Carmine’s zipper and reaches in for his penis. Taking it out through the fly in his boxers, Supergirl begins to breathe softly on the soft, wrinkled blue-veined cock, appalled at having to service this old mobster.

“Okay, Wonder Woman, let’s hit the bedroom,” says Tony. “I’ve got a lot of tension I need to work off. And if you’re good, it’s a nice strong serving of Istanbul Express for you. Sound good?”

“Sounds peachy, Tony. Let’s see what we can do about dealing with all your kinks.”

“Oooh. I like the sound of that!” Tony beams. “See you later, Carmine. Gonna have my pipes cleaned.”

“Ditto, tiger. Enjoy.”

“Back at ya’. Let’s go, Diana. I’ve got a few moves I want to show you.”

“I’m sure you do, Tony. You’re full of surprises.”

Supergirl’s hot breath washes over Carmine’s cock and she takes the slowly hardening muscle in her palm and gently begins to stroke it’s folds and creases. Aiming her face at his crotch, Kara leans forward until she’s close enough to reach out with her tongue. She pulls down the foreskin of Carmine’s un-circumcised prick and licks the head of it. She swirls the tongue around it as she gently pulses her hand, holding his member and encouraging it to hardness. Slowly and steadily, the cock expands in her hand, the flaps stretching out, the muscle lengthening.

“There we go. Now we’re talkin’,” Carmine says with pleasure.

Taking the whole tip in her soft mouth, Supergirl sucks on the head of the shaft, pursing her lips on the fat shaft at the base of the tip and working her firm lips against the skin there. She flutters and presses her lips in a steady pace, rubbing them up and down in the tiniest motions to excite the man’s cock more and more. She draws a soft sigh from the contented mob boss who’s leaning back into the sofa cushion and watching this beautiful blonde teenager suck him off.

Life could be very good at times.

And now, with the prick risen from the dead, her hand work starts in earnest. The world famous heroine strokes away at the prick with a slow firm grip that slides the tight skin up and down in delightful, steady motion that has Carmine balling his fists against the couch cushion. The blonde teen’s tongue begins to slather warm spit all over the top of the mob boss’s cock. The slickness gets passed all around and over the glans, the tongue curling, flicking, swiping and swathing the tip with warm, sultry attention that hardens Carmine even more. Supergirl looks up to look into Carmine’s eyes but sees his head already arched back against the top of the cushion, his eyes closed, a smile on his face. At least the old bastard would be fast. Supergirl reaches one hand into the boxers and fondles Carmine’s ball sack even as she opens wide and takes his dick deep into her throat and sucks on him firmly as she moves her head up and down repeatedly.

“...uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....”

The blonde head bobbing in his lap brings untold joy to the mob don now. He’s starting to think of baseball stats to prolong his satisfaction as the Maid of Steel on her knees between his thighs gulps his cock with a fervent rhythm that is nothing but bliss.

“...uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....”

“Oh, man....soooo gooooood,” Carmine exhales. His hands blindly reach out and cup the back of Supergirl’s head, fingers entwining in her wavy locks as she continues to suck his joint with unrelenting purpose. His cock in full in her throat now, every inch of it tightly clamped into the lightly-frictioned maw of absolute pleasure.

“...uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....uhhllgkk....”

“Ohhh! Ohhhh! Gonna cum....damn. You fucking wonderful cunt! I’m cumming. CUMMING!” He grips her head tight, she freezes his place, his cock buried to the hilt in her throat, his pubes tickling her upper lip. Carmine shoots his wad with all he’s got, a thick rich river of salty spew rushes down Supergirl’s throat, all warm and need. She swallows the first assault and then easily gulps down the second, much more minor eruption. He won’t release her though, his hands wrapped around her skull as he luxuriates in his blind joy. But with her powers back, it’s easy to pull away and his fingers release with a tiny crackle of old knuckles. And the hands fall limp to the couch at the sides of his thighs. His dick drips with the remains of his cum. Some of it slides out of Supergirl’s mouth but she catches it with her tongue and swipes her mouth clean.

Standing up, she simply says, “I’m going to use the bathroom. Then you can give me my pipe, okay?”

“Sure......sure thing.....” smiles Carmine. “Glad to do it.”

“That’s peachy,” says Supergirl and goes off to the bathroom for a quick crying jag with the water running.

In the bedroom, Wonder Woman is getting busy with the work of relaxing Tony with her entire body and soul: her stunningly beautiful Amazonian body and her compromised, corrupted, completely lost soul.
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DrDominator9
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Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

A Tricky Position for One and All
Part 69-A



Wonder Woman follows Tony through the open bedroom door, her ample breasts swaying noticeably under the yellow Pleasure Dome t-shirt with no bra to confine them. Her tan shorts show off miles of shapely leg as she saunters past Tony and sits herself down on the end of the bed with a provocative smile for him. She knows her place better than Supergirl. She has accepted her defeat completely over the months she’s been held prisoner by this good-looking but ruthless mob leader. Constant security and a full-blown heroin habit have seen to that. In fact, she and Kara are both overdue for their drugs and Diana is feeling the need for her heroin building steadily. The best way to ensure that her fix comes quickly is to be sure Tony cums quickly.

She reaches out to Tony, enfolding his ass cheeks in her palms and squeezing them slowly through the suit pants he’s wearing. She pulls him closer to the edge of the bed and bows her head toward him, mouthing the growing bulge hidden in the fabric at his crotch.

“Now this is a superheroine who knows how to treat her betters,” Tony declares, all smiles now. “You should teach your blonde friend it’s not very smart to fight me, Wonder Woman.” His hands stroke casually through the mane of black hair. The Amazon princess grips the bulge in the mob leader’s pants with her teeth, gently squeezing it along its full length with slow pressure.

“Well, you know Kryptonians,” Wonder Woman says after pulling her head away from Tony’s crotch, leaving a damp spot there from her mouth and a noticeably larger erection inside the fabric. “All those powers makes them pig-headed.”

Diana then leans back on the bed, her elbows denting the comforter. Her huge breasts flatten out slightly as she gives Tony a come hither look. She takes a deep breath, stretches her arms over her head and nestles deeper into the bed while the words “Pleasure Dome” on the yellow t-shirt stretch out quite provocatively.

“I guess that’s true. Amazons must be a brighter group.” Tony bends down, looming over her. His hands reach for the tempting mounds. He palms the generous globes, their warmth spreading through his fingers with a firm squeeze.

“Let’s just say we know which way the wind blows. Walking into a gale doesn’t make much sense.” The classic beauty’s hands work at Tony’s belt buckle. “Better to put your back to the wind and let nature push you for a while.”

“Until you gather your strength to resist?” Tony’s eyebrows go up as his pants drop down, a fabric puddle on the carpet that he steps out of, then lowers himself onto the curvaceous figure lying beneath him on the large bed.

“Until you find friendly shelter,” Wonder Woman purrs, her hands reaching under the waistband of Tony’s boxers and grabbing his full erection. She begins to stroke it slowly as he rolls her breast in his right hand and takes her neck in his left. He pulls her up for a long kiss as she continues to stroke his cock with a slow twisting wrist movement, his shaft warm in her palm.

Tony’s hand continues to fondle the huge warm breast. And his other hand joins in, firmly squeezing both tits now and feeling them harden slightly in his palms. And then, without warning, his hands release the boobs but hold onto the fabric of her yellow t-shirt.

“Let’s lose this,” he growls and rips the front of the garment in half. The cheap yellow fabric separates with only token resistance as Wonder Woman’s bountiful bosom spills forth through the torn chasm provided.

“Well, that’s just shoddy workmanship,” she says, sullenly looking down at her exposed breasts.

“Not exactly,” Tony smirks. “I had a case of these made special order for my girls’ strip routines in the Pleasure Dome club. They rip them regularly during their shows. I was hoping you’d be wearing one eventually when I put them in your bureau drawer.”

“Why, Mr. Bonano, you do think of everything.”

“I do my best.”

He takes her bared breasts in his hands and begins to fondle them with rough familiarity, squeezing them and rolling her nipples between his fingers. Wonder Woman’s hot breath quickens and she pulls herself up with one hand by Tony’s shirt front as the other continues to stroke his cock. She blows in his ear, then whispers. “Your best is more than good enough for me, boss.”

The mobster’s hand moves away from her neck until, suddenly, it’s gripping the metal zipper on her denim shorts and drawing it down. He slides his hand inside, cups between her thighs, and slowly presses against the silken panties there. A soft moan escapes from Wonder Woman’s trembling lips.

Her response is to quicken her strokes of the penis in her grip and to draw her tongue slowly along the nook of Tony’s neck and then flick it lightly there. This draws an echoing moan of his own. She helps him slide his boxers off and pulls his shirt over his head, rendering the mob boss naked, his stiff dick bobbing between his legs. Tony returns the favor, helping her remove her shorts and pink silk panties in a rush of desire.

Naked and embracing tightly, the couple’s bare flanks rub together slowly as they work each other to distraction with slow movements, skin sliding over skin, mouths searching sensitive spots, hands exploring crevices, slipping and caressing within them, and gripping warm responsive flesh. The squeezing, fondling and stroking continues until the heat builds and Wonder Woman guides Tony’s large member into her wet and waiting pussy. The feeling of stretching lips and eagerly enclosing velvety tightness draws a satisfied grunt from both of them. Tony edges forward, rocking his pelvis and pushing the pulsing member further within the tight confines of Wonder Woman’s heavenly channel until it is deeply embedded there, pulsing steadily. The pair enfold each other in powerful arms, holding on to the moment of simple pleasure.

Steady throbbing however soon begets more need and Tony begins to gently thrust himself back and forth against the warm, responsive beauty in his embrace. The slow purposeful friction of Tony’s rigid cock slowly withdrawing and then pushing forward within her loins builds a brighter flame within the Amazon. As her lust grows the goddess-like beauty matches every stroke of his hot swollen cock with a parry of her own bucking pelvis. The two bodies are clamped into an increasing rhythm now, the passion of Tony’s hips thrusting, the willing acceptance of Wonder Woman’s legs wrapping around his torso. Their wide swaths of flesh press into each other, shivering and silky. Breasts and arms and pouched bellies meet and match with sensuous carelessness. Hungry with desire, Diana enthusiastically rocks on the mattress, crosses her ankles and takes his driving penis into her. Again and again with a heady frenzy Tony plunges himself into her and her innermost muscles longingly clamp down, rippling with pleasure at each joyful jab of the warm hard muscle entering her over and over.

Throaty rumbles and sensuous groans join in the symphony of sex: a creaking mattress, the slap of flesh and the thick, puckered sucking noise of two bodies fucking fills the air. It reaches a crescendo as does all good music and when neither Tony nor Wonder Woman can control themselves even a second longer, the climax and release for them is sweet and long and blindingly satisfying. They cling tightly to each other, eyes fluttering behind closed lids and grimaces of absolute pleasure freezing their features. Eruptions of pleasure inundate the couple below. Torrents of release spread forth between them.

And then it is over. Breath upon breath, sigh upon sigh, thigh upon thigh. The room is thick with the scent of mingled sweat, heaving chests, silk sheets damp with the rush of sexual fluids and groans of dizzy satisfaction.

A few minutes later, with Tony and Diana bathing in the afterglow of murmured sighs and entwined limbs, Kara walks into the room alone and chastened.

“Is there room for me,” she asks plaintively.

“But of course, silly,” Tony says. “All is forgiven. Join us.”

“Yes, by all means,” Wonder Woman adds, her voice husky and inviting.

Supergirl smiles gratefully and makes her way to the bed.


* * *


Don Gino Lupenzo relaxes on a leather sofa the color of expensive burgundy, its bright brass accents gleaming in the soft lighting of his temporary headquarters. One glass of the single-malt scotch in his hand costs more than his maid makes in a week and he sips it appreciatively. Across from him sits a beautiful woman with a thick mane of lustrous red hair wearing a form-fitting navy jacket over a pale yellow blouse and tight skirt. The suit accents a body that makes the elderly don feel like man one third of his age.

She crosses her legs demurely and the don licks his thin lips. He has important business with her however and so banishes the sexual fantasy that had bloomed in his head in the delicious moment of his second sip. He sets the glass down on the low glass coffee table before him and then settles back to pose a question.

“Miss O’Shea, I want to be sure of your loyalties so please pardon my rudeness but I must ask you. You have worked for Tony Bonano before. How can you assure me that you will have my best interests at heart rather than his during this most important meeting tomorrow evening?”

“Don Lupenzo, sugah, I am a professional in my craft. You know my credentials and I’m sure you have had me checked out or I would not be sittin’ here enjoying your delectable scotch and your most generous hospitality. Have any of my references indicated dissatisfaction? Many of them ah’ competitors to each other as you well know.”

“They have not,” the powerful mafia lord confirms smoothly.

“And the stipend you are paying me is as handsome as you are, sir.”

“Your flattery is matched only by your avariciousness, my dear. You set the fee.”

“So I did, sugar. But you have agreed to meet it and that means the world to me, sir. I shall perform my duties as discussed. Supergirl will not be a problem. I took out her cousin quite easily several months ago as you may have heard. I expect no difficulties from that blonde cow.”

“I would not underestimate her, Miss O’Shea. We are forced to meet here in this location because she completely destroyed my main headquarters. I had her in my grasp and well...suffice it to say I let her slip away.”

Don Lupenzo makes an effort to control his anger. He pauses, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don’t want her fucking up my evening, if you excuse my language. That cow, as you say, has cost me dearly. I want this to end tomorrow night and whatever you have to do to her to ensure she’s not a problem, I want it done.”

“I won’t be killing her, Don Lupenzo. As we discussed in our preliminary talks, I don’t need that kind of heat comin’ down on me. There’s not enough money in the world to spend my life lookin’ over mah shoulder for Justice Leaguers, honey. Nevertheless, I do have a way to compromise her so you can carry out your plan against Don Bonano.”

“You realize that there will be extremely tight security. Metal detectors will be employed. Pat downs, the usual.”

“Everything I need I have constructed out of materials that will not set them off and won’t be found on me. Don’t fret your little head about it, sweetness. When the time comes, the Maid of Steel will not be able to protect herself much less her boss. Tony will not walk out of the restaurant alive wherever it is. Do you know the location yet? I would like to be able to scout it, just to iron out the wrinkles.”

“Neither Don Bonano nor myself will know the location until 30 minutes beforehand, as stipulated by Don Baldini who is providing the security for the meet. He is the mediator agreed to by Tony and myself. Very respected.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to wing it but I suspect it won’t be a problem. And speakin’ of problems, doesn’t Tony also have Wonder Woman turning tricks at his place. Why wouldn’t he bring the Amazon whore along too?”

“The rules say only two people can accompany the principles. I’m bringing you and my bodyguard, Basso. Tony will bring Supergirl and Carmine. Me and Carmine, we go way back to the old neighborhood. Tony’s hoping that Carmine can talk sense to me and keep me placated. I don’t think that will work. But I’d rather have Carmine there to deal with than two supers. Even you’re not that good.”

“It would be a stretch of my talents,” Scarlett smiles. “So, is that all for now, sugah?”

“That is all for now except your payment, of course.” The elegant mobster takes a thick envelope from his inside jacket pocket and hands it to Scarlet. “Half now and the other half tomorrow evening after the meeting, as discussed.”

Weighing it’s heft with a slight bounce, the sultry hit woman smiles at the man in the three-thousand dollar suit sitting across from her. “Kinda’ light, you must have used big denominations.”

“I didn’t want you to have to lug any awkward suitcases, my dear.”

“You ah’ the soul of gallantry, suh!”

“And you are a vision of loveliness, my dear. Until tomorrow night. I shall call you the moment I hear where the location will be, but I doubt you’ll have time to case it, which is sort of the point. I should hear around 5 p.m.”

“Understood. I hope you don’t mind if we take separate cars, but if anything happens, I don’t want to be beholding to you for a ride should a hasty getaway be necessary. Just a girl taking precautions, you understand, sugah.”

“Very reasonable. Just be close to this location so you’re not late for the meeting. Don Baldini will be contacting me here. You can follow me in your car.”

“I’ll be on my motorcycle, love. Better to weave through traffic and disappear into the night.”

“Smart thinking.”

“I have my moments.” Scarlett O’Shea smiles, stands up and smooths a wrinkle out of her skirt. She then reaches out to shake Don Lupenzo’s hand. He takes it and holds it in both of his own. “I shall see you tomorrow evening then,” she says. “I thank you for the opportunity and the trust you have placed in me. I will not disappoint you.”

“I would hope not,” the elderly don replies still gripping her hand and smiling as he looks at her with deep sincerity. “Yours is much too pretty a face to disfigure, my dear.”

The smile on Scarlett’s face flickers. Her eyes dilate and she nods affirmatively at him. After a significant pause, the don releases her hand and she withdraws it like she’s pulling it away from a nest of rattlesnakes. “Yes, Ah’m sure neither of us wants that. Goodnight Don Lupenzo.”

“Goodnight....sugar,” says Don Lupenzo, his eyes not showing a hint of mirth.

Outside the unobtrusive after-hours Brooklyn social hall, away from the viper’s nest, Scarlett allows herself a shiver before she hails a cab. Her mouth is too dry to whistle so she just waves one down.


* * *


Kara unbuttons her blue silk blouse to reveal a white satin bra edged in lace. Her cleavage is nicely accentuated by the sexy undergarment. Letting the blouse drop to the floor, the shapely blonde beauty pulls open the snap on her blue jeans and pulls them down her long legs so they fall to the carpet around her feet. She steps out of them and takes a step toward the bed before clasping her hands behind her back and swinging her incredible body back and forth sexily before the conjoined couple on the bed. Her white satin and lace panties match the bra and the glorious figure of the teen draws an admiring sigh from Tony.

“Are you just going to stand there like a tease,” Tony chides, “or are you going to come over and join in the fun?”

The Maid of Steel looks at the naked couple before her. Wonder Woman was a damn Amazon warrior and she had no problem fucking Tony like a common slut. Perhaps it was time she herself got off her high horse and just accepted that she was out of the heroine business now. One could only beat one’s head against a brick wall so long before brain damage set in. She looks at the two sexy bodies lying there. The most beautiful woman in the world and a man with a very nice physique and the skills to put it to good use as she herself had learned on more than one occasion. What was she waiting for? She needed to lose herself in a mindless session of escape. Crack was good for that, but so was sex. She needed a good dose of both right now.

“Join the fun,” Supergirl agrees, then squeals happily and takes a flying leap onto the bed beside them.

Tony is first to get into the spirit of things by burying his face in Supergirl’s generous cleavage and deeply inhaling her naturally heady scent. Freshly-washed after her session with Carmine and her time in the bathroom, the teenage heroine smells like a virgin. After all she’s been through, Tony is surprised she still smells as if imbued with innocence. It’s like a hit of coke and renewed by lust, he eagerly pulls down the rounded edge of Supergirl’s bra and takes her nipple in his teeth. With her powers only halfway returned from the powerful kryptonite dosing only 20 minutes ago, she can actually feel the edges of his teeth scrape her tender nipple and it sends a shiver through her. From below, Wonder Woman’s adroit fingers have already begun to roam about within her panties.

“Uhh...ohhh...my...that’s...well...good....ooohhh...ahh....Rao, don’t you dare stop that!” Kara pleads, meaning both of them, as her body is attacked with loving attention by the grinning twosome on either side of her.

Her nipple, erect and at full attention is now engulfed in Tony’s mouth as he sucks at it with a vengeance. The thrill of it arches Kara’s back and draws a sudden gasp. It also presents her crotch at a perfect angle for Diana to easily press her face in between Supergirl’s legs and suck on her clit as she pulls the crotch of the white silk panties to the side. The combination of mouths at her tit and twat send the blonde teenager into a helpless spasm of delight but Tony’s hands around her waist pin the heroine against the mattress after the first jerk. Wonder Woman wraps her arms around the teen’s trembling thighs and goes to town on her pussy now, licking every inch of it, sucking and nibbling at the labial edges before returning to the erect pink bud of her clit.

“UUNNHH! OOOH....SOOOOO NICE.....m...mmh...mm...more...more....”

Wonder Woman’s fingers plunge into Kara’s oozing orifice even as her tongue flicks the clit in a rapid flutter. Once again the Kryptonian’s figure arches and jerks but she is held in place by her strong opponents, intent upon rendering her powerless in their grasp.

“...doh....don’t....please....don’t.....stop....”

Her panting entreaties draw smirks from Tony and Diana alike as they trade a shared look that all but exclaims, “As if!”

Tony switches to the other nipple with his mouth while continuing to twist and pull on the sensitized first one. Wonder Woman’s knowing fingers are tiny pistons thrusting in and out of Supergirl’s pussy with twisting turns that have the Kryptonian dynamo’s eyes rolling back in her head with sexual ecstacy. Her body is thrumming like the aftershock of a sharply struck cymbal. The sensation of her body being inundated with such forceful give and take of sexual teasing and satisfaction builds within her. Her ass bucks and her tits quiver and her mouth opens in a circle and, unable to resist, an quickly overwhelmed Supergirl goes blind with absolute pleasure. Her pussy gushes with juicy release, the warm liquid sucked up eagerly by the Themysciran’s soft mouth pressed against her pulsing twat.

“Mmmm...thata girl,” Diana murmurs between pulsing rushes of cum.

“Way to go, Supergirl. That’s getting in the spirit,” Tony says.

“....ohhhhhhhhhh.....raooooo....” Supergirl’s body goes slack in their hold as she drifts in dreamy pleasure from her climax. “...don’t give a girl...much of an option....” she breathes out weakly.

“Don’t get too relaxed, blondie,” Tony says as he releases the flaccid blonde and gets to his knees in bed. “You owe us.”

In a flash, Tony’s experienced hands release the hooks on Kara’s bra and it is adroitly whisked away. Diana pulls off the matching panties with a speedy tug of her own and they too disappear off the side of the bed. Tony then switches positions and, at his signal, so does Wonder Woman. In seconds, Tony’s penis is laying on the bedspread inches away from Supergirl’s mouth as his own face is now between her legs, his cool breath blowing on her puffed-up pussy. “So get to it, please,” the mob boss urges.

A fully-naked Supergirl opens her heavy lids to see Tony’s stiff dick inches from her face. The warmth at the back of her head makes her turn it to see the apex of Wonder Woman’s thighs pressing against her hair, the neatly-trimmed snatch waiting on the other side of her.

“Yes, do begin,” the Amazonian says, her hand tracing the outer edge of Supergirl’s own snatch in a lazy torment of gliding fingertips. “We’re waiting.”

Supergirl feels Diana’s finger sliding gently around the edge of her damp crotch, the fingernail gently scraping on her inner thigh. She opens her mouth to lick the Wonder Woman’s pussy when the hand draws away from her tingling thighs.

“Oh, Kara, sweetie, that’s nice of you but I think Tony deserves first honors as our host and provider.”

With gentle insistence, Diana uses both hands to push the blonde’s head away from between her legs. She twists it slightly so Supergirl is forced to turn over. Now facing in the other direction with Wonder Woman at her back, the teenage lovely makes herself comfortable as she faces Tony’s rigidly-waiting cock. She opens wide and takes the mushroom head fully in her mouth, her lips wrapped around the very top of his shaft just where it joins the bulbous head She starts to suck on the fleshy fruit when there’s a knock on the bedroom door.

“Sorry to interrupt, Ton, but....” Carmine goes dumb with the view before him. His boss is sandwiched between two of the most beautiful women on the planet. Both are naked and the blonde heroine the world once adored is sucking on Tony’s cock like a common whore. Her blue eyes are wide at Carmine’s intrusion and she’s halted her tongue work.

“Why are you stopping,” Tony says, then adds, “What is it, Carmine?”

“..uhhhh...I can come back. You’re busy.”

“No, might as well tell me now. You wouldn’t have come in if....uuuhhhnn...” Tony jerks and then sighs as the blonde heroine’s stroking tongue on the underside of his cock slides over just the right spot. “..if... it weren’t important.”

“Well, it’s Davey Phillips down at Crown Billiards. He missed his payment again.”

“Again? That’s the third time this year, right?” Tony’s hard eyes go slightly softer as Supergirl’s rotating handwork on his cock works its magic.

“‘Fraid so, Tony. I know you think he’s a good guy and all, so I was wonderin’ if you wanted to let it slide til he can make good?”

“My rule is three and out, Carmine. If I let him slide, our protection program suffers because people see I’m soft. Sure, I like Davy, but whack him. I can’t afford to look soft, especially not before this meeting tomorrow. ”

Supergirl’s grip on his dick stops for a beat and Wonder Woman hisses softly in the middle of nuzzling against Tony’s neck. It’s only a fraction of a second and then both women go back to their attention to the mob boss’ pleasure. Each accepting the world they cannot change.

“Okay, Tony. Sorry. I thought I had to ask.”

“Rules are rules, Carmine. You should know better. I’ll be out in a little while.”

“Sure thing, Ton.”

The door closes behind Tony’s mentor and the younger don murmurs a happy little sigh as he forgets his worldly troubles almost instantaneously. After all, his cock is being sucked by the famous Maid of Steel. Tony wonders if Carlo is recording this session. His hopes are rewarded: the videographer is busy at work in the control room.

The smarmy little Italian flunky captures a medium shot of the three intertwined bodies on the king-sized bed. The blonde slut is on her side, 69-ing Tony. Wonder Woman’s face looks at the top of Tony’s head while he fondles her massive melons. Meanwhile Supergirl’s hollow cheeks suck in with renewed fervor on the boss man’s cock. At the same time, with the Kryptonian’s legs straddling Tony’s face, the Amazon’s fingers hold open the blonde’s pussy as Tony strokes it diligently with his tongue. As sexual variations on a theme are concerned, Carlo acknowledges with a grin and a murmur, “This is one fantastic clusterfuck!”

With her pussy inflamed by Tony’s tongue tracing out the alphabet within it and Wonder Woman holding her juicy twat spread open with firm fingers, Supergirl libido shifts to high gear. She responds by deep throating Tony’s penis with nothing less than absolute whorish intent. The shape of his cock bulges noticeably in her throat as she bobs her head between his legs. Her hair sways back and forth with the steady rhythm of her work.

“...whaulgkk.....whaulgkk.....whaulgkk.....whaulgkk.....whaulgkk.....”

“....ohhhhhh....great.....great......job....girl......” Tony pants.

Kara’s soft breasts press against Tony’s belly as she sucks him off vigorously. Her nose and lips are buried in his pubic hair and her fingers cradle his scrotum, gently massaging his nuts.

“...whaulgkk.....whaulgkk.....whaulgkk.....whaulgkk.....whaulgkk.....”

The Kryptonian sweetheart’s face is bright pink as Tony’s entire dick is held in her throat. The cute little nostrils flare out in a hard effort to bring in enough air so she doesn’t gag. For now it works and she pulls back a few inches before thrusting her face forward, making his cock completely disappear.

Tony can barely contain his excitement. Both hands squeeze hard on Wonder Woman’s tits, her pliant flesh bulging out of the gap between his thumbs and forefingers. She hisses and then groans out a plea.

“...aagghhh...not so.... rough!”

“Sorry. She’s...I’m...this is....a lot....”

The mob don gives the Amazon a break and pulls his hands away from her breasts. Her sigh of relief is audible. He then wraps his arms around Supergirl’s legs and grips her ass, firmly pulling the cheeks apart. His face dives back in between her legs and he begins to suck on the Maid of Steel’s twat with the same enthusiasm she is giving to his boner. Her hips buck at this renewed attention and a throttled moan of pleasure escapes from her busy throat.

“Uuuurrhhhhhhnnnnn!”

The juicy sucking sound of lips working juicy nether lips and thickly-throated cock-gobbling resonates in the air as Tony and Supergirl race to see who can pull an orgasm first from the other. With Wonder Woman holding the blonde teen’s cunt open and diddling her clit with her finger, it’s not much of a contest. Even with her head start, Supergirl can’t maintain her focus. Her bobbing head freezes in place and her eyes cross in helpless pleasure as she succumbs to the tidal wave of exhilaration screaming up from her loins to her brain. Her ass quakes and quivers in Tony’s palms as she gushes anew with her own tidal wave of cum. He sucks it up with wide-eyed surprise at the sweetness of it.

And then her body goes slack in his embrace, her throat bulging with his cock even as her head swims with lazy confusion. Still, when her throat contracts in a spasm of gag-reflex now that she’s a bit besotted by the climax, it’s just enough to send Tony over the edge and he cums hard in her throat.

“UUUUHHHNNNNN!”

“WHHHRRLLGKKK!”

The famous blonde beauty swallows hard, forcing down a heavy gulp of cum just to breathe. But the load is thick and strong and she can’t swallow it all. Especially when he shoots another stream down her gullet. Helpless to prevent it, streams of his seed shoot out of the tiny gaps in the corners of her mouth. Some even exits her nostrils until the teenage champion pulls her face up with a jerk and disgorges the huge rod. Strings of gooey cum cling between her mouth and Tony’s dick. A generous amount drains onto the bedspread as Supergirl’s chest heaves desperately for air.

“WHOOOOP...HOOOOP...sorry..sorry..” the gasping girl wheezes. “..was...too much...”

His cheeks gleaming wet with her cum, Tony is nevertheless grinning widely at his sexual victory. “I thought we’d gotten past such rookie mistakes,” he gloats.

“...bastards...both of you...” replies a panting, spent Kara. “...ganged up on me...”

A heavy chuckle from Wonder Woman confirms her own glee. “If you can’t swim in the deep end of the pool, sweetie, you shouldn’t dive in. Go wash up and then come back. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Ten minutes later, after cleaning up and brushing her teeth and making herself presentable, Kara returns to the bedroom. She walks in to see Wonder Woman with a thin rubber hose gripped in her teeth as she inserts a needle into a vein in the crook of her elbow. Tony is lying beside her, his head propped up on a few pillows as he scans through the emails on his cell phone with wave of his forefinger.

Without missing a beat, Supergirl asks, “Have you got some crack for me?”

“Inside left jacket pocket,” he says absently, nodding at the garment draped over the chair by the vanity table.

The blonde champion of justice eagerly dashes over to the chair for her fix. Her one-time cohort in crime prevention releases the brown rubber hose and flops back on her own set of pillows, wallowing in the warm erotic ecstacy of the heroin flowing through her system.

“.....mmmmmh.......nice.....” Wonder Woman exhales softly, her face slack with the drug stunning her brain. Her lively blue eyes are dulled and stupefied as she lies there beside Tony drifting in her cloud of drugged lethargy. The young mob boss glances over at the famous Amazon and smirks at the sight of the Wonder Woman zoned out on heroin in his bed.

“Mission accomplished,” he mutters with a chuckle as he takes the syringe off the bedspread and places it in the bedside table drawer for now.

“...whaaa? ....whuudju say...?” The Champion of All Women slurs her words sloppily.

“Nothing, babe. Not important.”

Supergirl has the pipe out of Tony’s jacket pocket and is now fumbling with the plastic baggie holding the small white nuggets of crack cocaine. Taking a deep breath and calming herself down, she finally gets the tiny pellets into the pipe’s bowl. She walks over to the bed and sits down on the end of it, flicking the throw-away lighter over the nuggets. The flame ignites them as she draws a deep breath.

The intrinsic crackling sound of high-grade crack cocaine issues forth and the Last Daughter of Krypton inhales the gray smoke deep into her lungs and holds it there, her face scrunched up with the effort. It’s been so many hours since she last had the drug. If the sex hadn’t distracted her, she’d have been a basket case by now.

But her concerns evaporate as the powerful drug flushes away all her intelligence, her stature, her personality and any vestige of self-respect in a swirl of smoke. She takes a second huge draw on the pipe and holds it for ten seconds. Less than fifteen seconds after her second puff, Supergirl wavers dumbly in place at the end of the bed, her visage as dumb as a toddler studying math equations yet without the charm.

“Give me the pipe, Kara,” Tony commands. “Behind you, over here. Good. Thank you.”

She hands Tony the pipe, limply extending her arm just far enough so he can reach it. The Vanilla Pudding, as this mix of crack is called, has done its job all too well on Supergirl. The moment after Tony takes the pipe and tamps it down to snuff out the small amount smoldering in the bowl, the superheroine collapses down on the bedspread and curls up against Wonder Woman, spooning her as the two of them sigh contentedly. The pair of them are stoned to the gills on some of the most prime narcotics available in the U.S.A.

Tony admires the tableau beside him and looks at the drooling, trembling mouth of the once famous Maid of Steel and pumps his fist in triumph.

“Done! And in under seven months,” he exults softly. “Didn’t even take a year, did it, champ?”

“...whuzat....wha....whut didn’t...take a.....year....” The blonde mumbles into the mattress, her naked tush pointed out as she cuddles closer to a sighing Wonder Woman.

“Your fall from grace, hero.”

“....huuuhh...?...sumthing....fell from space...?...”

“Yes. You, my dear. Now rest up a bit. In a few minutes, Diana will teach you how to suck my cock like a professional. Won’t you Wonder Woman?”

“Uh huh. Yep. In a couple of minutes, Tony,” Diana murmurs.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Well, Diana doing the only thing she can at the moment and just going with the flow and play the role that keeps Tony happy to avoid the treatment Kara received last chapter. Tell's him what he wants to hear until things swing in their favor and it doesn't hurt that he has some skill in the bedroom and is her only source for the drugs. Although I often wonder how receptive either girl's bodies would be had he not gotten them addicted to sex via some potent aphrodisiac along with the heroin. But damn, heaven help Tony if she ever gets the chance for payback and he has no weapons or goons with him and she isn't feeling the effects of her addiction lol.

Ya know despite the circumstances the girls find themselves in, these are some really hot scenes you write between these characters when they get down and dirty.

Ah so Gino managed to get Scarlett's services instead of Tony eh? Pretty sure Scarlett doesn't have anything to worry about in regards to possible reprisals from other super heroes if Kara were to be killed since the League has evidently just been twiddling there thumbs for close to 3 months or so after Kara, Clark and Diana's capture despite the numerous videos detailing there imprisonment lol. Curious how she plans to neutralize Kara so she can get to Tony, although after how easily she took down Kal, who was in faaaar better condition then than Kara is now, I'm sure she will find a way. Although I assume she will have to be more subtle than just busting out Kryptonite nunchucks like last time.

Bit of a role reversal with Kara being the one surprised at how willing Diana is to lay with there captor but then deciding to just go along with it and let go of her pride and get a little something out of it. Nice threesome with Kara getting double teamed. Looks like both girls had a momentary lapse at the mention that someone was going to get killed before burying the feeling back deep inside. Neither cant really do anything about it at the moment. Say what you will about Tony, he is a sack of shit but knows what he is doing in in the bedroom.

Yeah those addictions are really gonna hamper any possible escape attempts or rescues since even if the girls were at full power with Diana equipped with her belt and Kara no longer exposed to Kryptonite they would still have to worry about those withdrawals. Even if they got away they would still need to eventually get there fix somewhere.
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Thanks for the enjoyable analysis and the praise, TAG. You're spot on as always. Carmine's interruption is a bit of a turning point in the two heroines' attitudes as you noted. The big question is "Will it last through tomorrow night's big meeting?" That answer is just a few chapters away.
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A Tricky Position for One and All
Part 69-B


The mob boss goes back to his cell phone and calls an old friend.

“Everything set? You still coming tomorrow?” Tony inquires.

“I’ll be there.”

“Good. Thanks for this.”

“No, Tony. Thank you.”

“See you when you get here.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“I bet you are.” Tony closes the phone and takes a while to think through his plans. After about fifteen minutes, when Wonder Woman begins to snore, he elbows her in the ribs. “Hey! Diana, time to show blondie how a real blow job is handled.”

“Huh, what? Oh right, sure Tony.” The Amazon princess gives Supergirl a shove to the shoulder. “Hey, Kara, come out of it. Class is in session.”

“Huh, whut? Oh, yeah, okay. Right. I’m here,” she says raising her head. Her lids are at half mast as she watches Wonder Woman get on her hands and knees and carefully crawl over Tony’s body until her pussy is in his face and his limp dick is inches in front of her eyes.

“Ten hut!” She barks and then giggles. “Gotta show ‘em who’s boss,” she adds. And then she opens her mouth and licks the head of the flaccid dick with her warm tongue. It twitches in response. “Houston, get ready to light this candle. We’re going for a ride.”

Supergirl frowns at this joke.“Oh, Diana! Really? Show some class.”

“Don’t you dare ‘Oh Diana’ me, you prissy little cunt. Lighten up, Kara. We are in this for the long haul in case you haven’t figured that out by now. I intend to make the best of it and have some fun for a change. I suggest you do the same. In fact, you can start by fondling my breasts while Tony licks me all over down there and I suck him off up here.”

Supergirl’s eyes go saucer wide at this speech. In all the years she’s known Wonder Woman, she’d never heard such language come out of the Amazon. The blonde heroine is shocked to the core.

“I will do no such thing. You’re acting like some kind of slut. You’re a superhero for gosh sakes.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry, Kara but it seems you haven’t been paying attention. Wonder Woman has left the building. But suit yourself, Little Miss Perfect. Tony and I are going to have some fun. You can join in or you can go fuck yourself. I really don’t care.”

“Bitch,” Supergirl snaps.

“Cunt! Come on, Tony, let’s show this ice queen what a real blow job looks like.”

“I’m all yours, Wonder Woman,” Tony says with a smile. He grabs onto the wide ass positioned over his head and buries his face between the wide muscular thighs of the Amazon princess. He smooches her pussy with his lips using sloppy smacking noises just to drive home the point to Supergirl. Sulking, Kara retreats to the end of the bed and just sits there watching as the Champion of All Woman licks at the tip of Tony’s cock like an ice cream cone and fondles his balls. The muscle under her tongue grows from a curled up little snake to an impressive bobbing shaft in no time.

“See, Kara. Nothing to it. It’s all in the tongue...and the handwork,” Wonder Woman says between licks. It’s not that hard.”

“Oh yes it is!” Tony declares from between the legs of the renowned beauty kneeling over his body. His hands reach forward and grab hold of the huge pendulous breasts hanging beneath the beautiful woman now tonguing his dick. He fondles them greedily, squeezing their fullness in his palms and enjoying the weight of them bouncing in his hands. The sensation of Wonder Woman’s licking switches over to sucking as she takes his cock in her cheeks and pulls her head back, drawing her lips against his shaft as she sucks hard on him.

“...huunnhhh!” He groans with pleasure. Supergirl licks her lips, watching the gorgeous body of her friend wriggling and trembling as Tony caresses her tits, slides his hands over her waist and hips and thighs in long smooth strokes of his busy hands.

Swaying her wide ass cheeks back and forth, Wonder Woman begins to work on Tony’s prick in earnest now, bobbing her head up and down. She takes the whole shaft in her mouth, her nose buried in the mob boss’ pubic hair, her lips lightly brushing against his balls. She’s swallowed him whole and just stays there for a moment, sucking firmly on him as he sucks heavily on one of Diana’s ass cheeks. Moans of satisfaction drift from both of their mouths. And then Wonder Woman starts to bob her head again, greasing his shaft with her saliva as it enters and withdraws from her mouth in rapid nods of her head and neck.

Tony’s excitement is palpable and it shows up as a bright red hickey on the left buttock of the princess from Themyscira. As she continues to deep throat him, he moans deeply and goes for her other cheek.

“...uuulgkk...uuulgkk...uuulgkk...uuulgkk...uuulgkk...uuulgkk...” Wonder Woman’s head moves up and down repeatedly, taking in the swollen shaft again and again, a sword-swallowing act in fast forward.

Unable to resist, Tony bites down on the wide right cheek in his mouth, savoring the soft flesh even as his own fleshly shaft is gobbled and licked and teased and slathered by Wonder Woman’s remarkable mouth.

“Eeeemmmpphhh!” The raven-haired temptress lets out a muffled shriek as Tony leaves a nasty dental impression on her rear end. She pulls her face away, disgorging the fat pole and turns her head around to glare at the mafia don. “Hey! That hurt!”

“I lost control,” he admits.

“Yeah, well, you’re not the only one with teeth, buster! Be more careful.”

“Yes, ma’am! Now would you go back to what you were doing? I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, but I’m not. How about a little something for your hostess this evening?”

“Dames. What are you going to do, eh, Supergirl?”

The blonde crosses her arms and looks away in a huff from Tony. And then she steals a quick glance back when she hears Wonder Woman grunt suddenly as Tony forces a finger into the Amazon’s readily available rectum. He slowly twists it back and forth, eliciting another groan and a rededication of oral pleasure from his bed mate. The debauched heroine takes Tony back into her mouth and sucks hard on the head of his shaft while twisting her neck back and forth.

“WHUUHH!” Tony grunts in delight.

This is too much for Supergirl to take and she quickly stands up and walks over to the night table. She retrieves the orange glass crack pipe and returns to the end of the bed, lighting it up with the Bic and sucking on the crackling drug with a sharp, purposeful intake of smoke. She repeats this two more times until the pellets are gone. Woozily, Supergirl stands up and toddles over to the night table. She tries to put the pipe back in the drawer but it falls to the carpet, spilling the used ash. And then her knees buckle and she ends up on the carpet as well, with her back resting against the side of the bed. Her head drops to her left shoulder as she slouches there naked, her legs sprawled wide apart and drool slipping over her lower lip in a silvery string.

Tony and Wonder Woman are far too occupied to notice or care. She still kneels over his prone body. He is busy underneath her. With one hand back to palming a breast and the finger on his other hand corn-holing her rear, Tony presses his mouth against her pussy. He seals it against her labia as his tongue works wonders on what’s inside. He licks and flicks it within the channel for a several sexy strokes that has the Amazon’s hips bucking, and then he moves up to suck and tease her clit. This has her grinding her pelvis in utter joy. In turn, she deep throats him again and again, going at his rigid cock now with a vengeance.

The lesson however is lost on Supergirl after all. She is busy below them, plunging the fingers of her left hand in and out of her pussy in thick sucking juicy noises and moans of satisfaction. Her right hand squeezes her own breasts, twists her own nipples and flicks at them with her fingernails.

“....oooooooohhhh....” she moans in drug-fueled sexual ecstasy.

Tony lets go of Wonder Woman’s breast and pulls his finger out of her anus. Both hands return to her ass cheeks now. With his arms wrapped around her thighs, his palms spread her cheeks apart, the fingertips just touching around the perimeter of her anus. He rubs her gently there while continuing to nibble and suck at her clit. And the Amazon’s mouth is gulping up and down on Tony’s cock with metronomic intent.

The threesome is now beyond the tipping point.

“UUUNNGHHH!” Tony’s eyes cloud over as his dick pulses and jerks, spewing jets of cum upward into Wonder Woman’s open throat as she leans over his pelvis. She swallows it all even as she too reaches a thunderous climax of her own.

“EEENNGGKKHHH!” She gasps in a thick gargle of untold pleasure, swallowing yet more of Tony’s white batter. It floods into her stomach even as her lids flutter with pure pleasure.

“HUUUNNHHHHHH!” Supergirl’s irises float up under her lids as she spots the carpet between her legs with a spray of cum. Her hands flop like dead fish beside her thighs.

Wonder Woman is too spent to kneel anymore and her naked body collapses onto Tony’s six-foot equally naked frame. He enfolds her in his arms and holds her tight. Supergirl tips over sideways and lays there on the damp carpet in near comatose delight. Deep sighs of satisfaction echo in the bedroom for several minutes.

Finally, the low, drowsy voice of Wonder Woman mutters out, “And that’s how you do it, Kara.”

“Whatever,” replies a tired and irritated voice from below the bed.


* * *


At 9:30 the next morning, Tony is sipping a dark roast coffee in his suite’s plushly-decorated study. Comfortable brown corduroy armchairs, an antique cherry desk, dark green wallpaper and western art give the room a manly aura. Carmine drinks his coffee in a matching armchair next to Tony. They’ve been conferring for 30 minutes already on their plans for their crucial Saturday night meeting, now just about eight hours away.

“Look, neither of us thinks that Gino is going to back down, let us take over his turf and erode his influence,” Tony declares, “but I don’t think he realizes just how much Don Baldini wants to put things back to a low profile.”

“Frankly Tony, a low profile wouldn’t bother me either at this point. We lost two button men in Bensonhurst yesterday.”

“What? I hadn’t heard that.”

“Yeah, it’s true. They were the watchdogs left in a car with their throats cut, just outside a jewelry heist they’d help set up. The four guys inside came out with about thirty grand in uncut diamonds only to find a getaway car sprayed with blood all over the inside windshield.”

“Hmmpf,” Tony grunts. “What did they do?”

“What the fuck could they do? They took the nearest bus, changed twice and then got on the subway ‘til they got here to drop off the stuff for us to fence. They were shaken and happy at the same time, two dead pals and a bigger cut for them.”

“Had to be Gino’s men that hit our guys.”

“Sure,” Carmine nods.

“If they knew about the heist,” Tony ponders aloud, “why didn’t they hang around ‘til the inside crew came out with the stones and take them too?”

“My guess, two reasons: they didn’t want to take on the extra firepower and Gino is sending us a message.”

“Being?” Tony looks at Carmine over the edge of his coffee mug as he takes another sip.

“Money ain’t the issue here, he’s sayin’. He’s telling us he don’t care how many millions we throw into the general fund or take on a job. He doesn’t like how we’re operating, how we’re treating him. It’s personal.”

“It’s fucking personal with me, too,” Tony snaps back. “The prick killed my father.”

“Don’t bite my head off, Tony. You asked what the message was. I told you what I thought.”

The younger don drains the last of his coffee and then lets out a heavy sigh. “You’re right, Carm. I apologize. There’s a lot on my plate.” He bangs his mug down on the side table.

“Well, you’re the one who raided the buffet table, jizzwad,” Carmine grins at him. “What’d you expect?”

Tony lets out a hearty laugh and reaches over to slap his mentor on the back. “Too true, you old fuck. Thanks for pointing that out. In any case, I’m not sure what’s going to be accomplished tonight in this meeting but I need you to try to keep Gino from boiling over. You’re there to keep things calm and to make sure that Don Baldini doesn’t give away the store to Gino just to keep the peace.”

“I’m not sure how much influence I’ll have with either of them at this point. What are you hoping to get out of this meet, Tony?”

“Gino out of the way. Permanently.”

“Right there at the meet? With what?” Carmine’s palms open up to empty air. “Like we discussed, Baldini’s security team won’t allow us any guns.”

“I’ve got some ideas on that. For now, see if our blonde beauty is out there in the living room and send her in, would ‘ya?”

“I’d like to know what you’re planning, pal.”

“Depends on a few factors,” Tony answers. “Including Supergirl and how much she’s willing to help. Go get her and I’ll see where we stand.”

A minute later, Supergirl walks into the study alone wearing bright pink bermuda shorts, a tight white cotton tube top and pink sneakers. Her hair is done in double pony tails and she looks all of 14 years old; a very well-developed 14 with her breasts stretching out the white cotton in ways that has Tony crossing his legs.

“Hi Tony, what’s up?”

“Good morning, Kara,” he says, motioning to the armchair vacated by Carmine. She sits. “I asked you down here for a very important discussion. There is going to be a special meeting tonight that I want you to go to with me. In full costume with all your powers. You will be my bodyguard. Carmine will be there, too, as my adviser.”

“Sounds boring,” the teenager says. If she were chewing gum, she’d be snapping it. As it is, her sneaker drums out a rhythm on her thigh as she looks around the room.

“It won’t be. I assure you. Don Lupenzo will be there.”

Supergirl’s head swivels immediately as her eyes lock on Tony’s, the blue irises flaring with cold fury. “Him! Oh, I am so there! Can I hurt him?”

Tony studies the intense blonde carefully. He recalls the jizz-coated body of Supergirl that he dragged out of Don Lupenzo’s headquarters. The girl had been badly abused in ways he could only imagine. She had a reckoning with Gino in mind and her grim face told the story all too clearly. He wanted to be sure she could control herself and that he could control her. Slowly he leans forward and takes her hand in both of his.

“No, you can’t hurt him. Now listen to me carefully, Kara.” Their eyes meet and the intense energy between them virtually crackles. “This could be the most important meeting of my life and I need you to have your head on straight. Do you understand me?”

“Keep my shit together. I get it.” Kara replies.

Tony is surprised at her language. She must be raging within at what Gino did to her. That sort of emotional fuel in a girl with her strength was like playing lawn darts with nitroglycerine tips. “Exactly,” he responds. “Because a wrong move here could end up in most or all of us getting killed.”

“I understand. Now can I have some crack?”

“Absolutely not. I need you at 100%. And if you’re asking for crack, you certainly DON’T understand what’s at stake!” Tony shouts at her, pulling his hands away, rising out of the chair and pacing now, his hands balled into fists.

“But I need it. You’re the guy who got me hooked on the stuff.”

“You’ll just have to do without it.”

“When is this meeting?” Kara pouts, the fat lower lip cutting her apparent age to 8.

“We’re going to get a call between 4:30 and 5 pm telling us the location and we leave right after that.”

“Gosh, Tony. That’s like forever from now. I can have a hit and be fully recovered way before then. Come on. Let me have a pipe. Please!!!”

Tony considers this. She may not be wrong. Better for her to be evened out a little than to be jonesing heavily for the drug during the meet. The physical effects of the crack addiction is barely felt when she’s back to full superpowers, as she is now. It’s the overwhelming psychological need for crack that keeps its deep hooks in her at this point. Tony looks at his watch, it’s now almost 10 a.m. With a 5:30 meeting time, that leaves more than seven hours left. He splits the difference.

“Kara, you can have a pipe around 2 p.m. A small one. That’ll have to do until after the meeting tonight.”

“Oh, thank you, Tony,” she pipes up, leaping up gleefully. “Thank you, thank you. You’re the best. Her little hop in the air and hand clap brings her back from young child to an exuberant older teen. Especially the way her breasts flop and sway in her tube top.

“Now go back upstairs and get into your uniform. I’ll see you later when I bring up your pipe. Is Wonder Woman out there in the living room?”

“Yeah, she’s there. Still with a stick up her ass.”

“Are you two still fighting about last night?”

The blonde teen spins in place at the study door, now facing Tony with her back up against it. “She’s a princess and a prick. A rare but decidedly off-putting combination,” Supergirl says with a scowl.

“She’s just being pragmatic about her situation. I thought you had gotten there too, my dear.” He takes her chin in his fingers and tilts her head up. “You’re not backsliding on me, are you?”

“No, I’m not Tony. I just don’t think she respects me at all anymore. I felt like she used to, but now I’m not even sure of that.”

“You know, Kara. I’d put a pretty hefty bet down that Diana feels exactly the same way you do. That you don’t respect her anymore either.”

“Oh hell, I don’t. That’s for sure!”

“Well, perhaps you should go upstairs and think that over. Maybe you two will figure something out about what was said last night and come to a truce.”

“Maybe. Anyway, I’ll send in Jagunda Tits on my way out.” Supergirl turns back to head out of Tony’s study. He grabs her ass when she does and squeezes a generous handful of pink Bermuda shorts.

“You do that,” he says, enjoying the squeeze.

Two minutes later, the six-foot Amazon princess enters Tony’s study and takes a seat as directed.

“Good morning, Diana. How are you feeling today?”

“I’d be fine if I could get a new roommate. This one’s broken.”

Tony smiles at her and takes her hand in his. “She’s had a hard time of it and isn’t as mentally strong as you are, Princess.”

“Mentally strong? You’re kidding, right? She could take life lessons from a moron!”

“That’s just your anger talking. You know she’s very smart when her pilot light’s not out.”

“I suppose,” Diana mutters glumly. “Why did you need to see me?”

“You’ve got a new client tonight. A very special one. Big money. Over 800 dollars,” he says, eyebrows up.

“800...but that’s...” Wonder Woman’s eyes narrow down in harsh anger.

“That’s what, my dear?”

“Nothing. I mean, I meant it’s nothing. Whatever you say, Tony. It’s your ball. Your ballgame.”

“That’s right. You’re my ball. And those who can pay get to play with it. With you. In any way I allow. So you be a good girl and get yourself all showered and perfumed up, and in your full costume. Except for your belt, of course.”

“Of course,” Wonder Woman grimaces.

“His name is Don Mario Lugese. A big shot on the West Coast. He originally asked for Supergirl but she’s going with me to a big meet with Don Lupenzo. She’s my muscle.”

“She is? But she isn’t experienced enough to handle it. You know that, Tony. Let me do it. You can trust me. Besides, this Don Mario guy, he wants the blonde, the short skirt, the first-class ass. Give her to him. Let me be your muscle.”

“Uh uhh! No way. Fact is, I don’t trust you. And I sure as hell don’t trust you with your belt on. No, Supergirl is much more malleable for my purposes tonight. You I need to be earning your keep the way you have been, Wonder Woman, as my whore. Let’s just hope he likes his ass big and his tits bigger!”

“You’re a cad and a bully,” The Champion of All Woman snaps with a fierce glare. She rises to leave in a huff and it’s not until she gets to the doorknob that Tony stops her with a comment.

“Oh, Wonder Woman. One more thing. After you fuck your client, I want you to so something else for me tonight.”

With her back muscles tense she stands there facing the door, not even turning around. “What would that be?”

“I want you to go downstairs to the Pleasure Dome’s Bang Bang Room on the second floor. Just follow the signs from the elevator.”

“B..Buh..Bang Bang Room?” The frozen beauty angles her head just an inch, her eyes darting to the side, just catching Tony in her peripheral vision as he waves his hands expansively.

“Yes, that’s the name of our exclusive strip club: raised stage, spotlights, chrome pole, shouting drunk patrons. The usual. I can’t believe I haven’t taken you in there before now. Anyway, you’ll be wearing your original uniform, hopefully not too sweaty and stained from your session upstairs with Don Lugese. Oh, and you’ll need to think up some fun moves. And be sure to work in your tits to the act. A lot. You and they are already prominently featured in the promotional flier. Thanks, babe. You can go now.”

After a dismissive wave of his hand, Wonder Woman walks out of the room tall and erect and proud. Inside, she’s crumbling to emotional rubble. The man had a gift for destroying her psyche. He certainly did.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Ya know given how how recently Tony has started to drop a bit of his guard and is alone with both girls, were it not for the cameras watching there every action and that drug/sex addiction, the two could very well stand a real chance of taking him down and escaping. Of course they would also have to get the device to disable the controls to Kara's collar and then sneak into the control room to deal with the secondary one while taking is taken care of Tony, Carlo and any other thug they came across and go from there.

Pity all this internal self loathing and perhaps the effects of the drugs both girls have if effecting them to the point of pitting them against each other and. At first it was Diana having to deal with Kara's shift in attitude but now the tables have turned to where Kara is the one being surprised by her friends new persona. Honestly when allowed access to her full power by Tony, Kara could probably get them both out of there current predicament by bringing the entire building down before anyone could activate the several kryptonite based weapons scattered about. That is if she wasn't so against killing which is admirable considering all she has went through. Although she might make an exception for Gino after what he did to her and how pissed she was at just hearing his name.

Yeesh still getting pimped out for chump change isn't helping Diana's pride. Tony really likes to kick em when they are down. The Bang Bang Room eh? Well if its gonna be filled with random drunks and Kara is going to be away as Tony's muscle and thus cant be used to threaten her, maybe Diana can find a way to sneak out by using the crowd as cover, find her fancy belt, then rescue her friend.
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DrDominator9
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Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

Last Minute Chess Moves
Part 70-A


The strength of any hero’s psyche can be severely tested. In fact, applying stress via crippling physical pain and alternating that with mind-numbing pleasure can often lead to a crumbled wall of heroic reserve and the subsequent breach of a hero’s willpower. Of course, after that, a noticeable loosening of the tongue frequently occurs. Lex Luthor is more than aware of just how such a regimen can work. In fact, he has been applying this hypothesis in a carefully controlled experiment with the Man of Steel for the past thirty minutes. The results are most encouraging.

“....don’t know....the radiation radius...of kryptonite...varies...by rock size....”

The famous Man of Steel is strapped to a titanium chair, with broad bands of the unbreakable metal circling his waist and thighs. His arms rest on the chair’s arms, the wrists held tightly there as well in unyielding titanium cuffs welded to the wide flat arms. A steel rod is buried five inches up the ass of world-renowned paragon of power and a small flood lamp bathes his sweating face in a cone of pale green light. Lex’s pretty young assistant Roxie holds a clump of Superman’s hair in her fist and pulls it backward, arching the Kryptonian’s neck as she whispers in his ear.

“Oh, you don’t want to disappoint Lexie, Super Shaft. That rod is a lot longer than five inches. Maybe even as long as this impressive equipment of yours. So it can punch right through your pain threshold like tissue paper, pal. And besides, wouldn’t you rather enjoy me pulling this hefty boner of yours instead of having your ass fucked by a dildo? Oooh, I bet you’re the type who likes both at once? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Go...to...hell...bitch!” Superman turns his head and glares at the peroxide blonde.

“Big talk from a guy who pissed himself in the tub yesterday.” She enjoys the look of shame on the face inches from hers before she yanks his head back once again and coos into his ear. “Anyway, tell Roxie the truth, big fella. You know the radius, don’t cha?”

Superman’s red briefs and blue tights have been pulled down so they stretch tightly across his thighs. Between his naked and spread legs, Lex’s slutty associate gently squeezes her fist over the pinned hero’s foot-long hard muscle. The pleasure gel makes her palm slide easily and rapidly up and down Superman’s exposed dick. She gives him a flurry of quick slippery strokes and then stops. The camera catches the eyes of the drugged hero as they flutter in confusion at the pleasure suddenly re-awarded him. The switching back and forth between sharp pain and sexual thrill badly disorients the exhausted Kryptonian.

Since he’s been captured by Lex, Kal has never been so humiliated and ashamed of himself in his life. He’s said things and done things and had things done to him that he never would have believed possible. Having a steel pole jammed up his ass while a woman’s hand jerks him off is something he never imagined he’d be subjected to. It was horrifying and yet incredibly stimulating. Nothing like anything he’d ever had to deal with before. But that’s what made Lex Luthor the criminal genius he was. He thought outside the box. If the box was on earth. Lex’s imagination was out past Mars.

“My powerful intoxicant is far too potent for you to resist, Superman,” Luthor boasts from across the room. “It enfeebles your will power even as it stimulates your nerve receptors. Pain and pleasure: they’re both greatly intensified. So, you may as well answer my questions. I know most of what you will be telling me anyway.”

“...then...why ask them...Lex...?...”

“Scientific verisimilitude, you dumb ox. It’s what keeps me ahead of the pack. Okay, I’ll grant you that the size of a chunk of kryptonite affects its draining radius. Let me pose this question instead: Would the same size rock, say 5 pounds in weight, at the same distance away from a Kryptonian, have a noticeably different affect on, well, your cousin Supergirl, for example, than you...given your much greater mass?”

“...i...don’t...I’m not...sure...”

“Oh, come on! Was that question really too difficult for you to grasp, you dumb ape?” Lex is scowling at the securely restricted figure eight feet away. The costumed chump was trying to fight against the alternating sequence of pain and pleasure but he was losing badly. Lex always got his way when he put his mind to a task.

“...no...i..i...got it....but...it may not...make a...difference...i...don’t...think so...”

“Tch, tch, tch,” clucks Roxie in his ear. “Even I’m not buying that.”

Lex pushes a lever forward on his control panel with a sharp nudge.

“Aaaarrrgghhhh!” The rod jolts an additional three inches up into Superman’s anal cavity and then rotates as if it’s coring an apple. The ridge on the tip of the anal probe irritates the lining there in a way that has Superman’s eyes wincing and tearing up. This goes on for nearly 30 seconds. When Lex pulls the lever back, it retracts back to five inches deep inside the Kryptonian’s rear. The sweat drips off Superman’s nose as his head drops to his chest with a groan.

“Answer the question, Kal?” Luthor’s voice is cold and insistent. “How noticeably different would your twat cousin react?”

“...more!...OWW!...ohhhh...more...she’d...feel it more.” Superman’s bowed head watches the feminine hand gripping his cock. His eyes barely focus with the torment he’s been subjected to for the last half hour.

Roxie nudges his face up with the forefinger on her left hand and she smiles at him. Her right hand feathers up and down the cock with a swift flurry of repetitive motion to reward the hero for answering. Superman grunts like an animal with the sudden pleasure. His mind is dulled to mush.

“What a good boy,” she says.

Lex continues his grilling of the slouching figure in the Chair of Discipline. “And if that five-pound piece of kryptonite were ten feet away from her, what would happen?”

“That much...she’d....collapse.”

“To her knees?” Lex’s eyes go wide with delighted anticipation as he tilts his head for the answer.

“...i....i would.....go...to my knees... She’d fall flat....on..on her face...or her back... it..it...depends...on gravity...balance....inertia....things...like that......”

“Excellent! Most illuminating. Roxie, give the man his due again.”

The dutiful moll’s fist blurs as she strokes the hard pinkish rod with glistening lubricant that has Superman panting and rolling his eyes in complete delight. The drug has intensified everything. He has no reserves of super strength to fight it and every silky stroke of her palm goes straight to his brain. He can’t think straight and the questions keep coming. He only wants this torment to be over. He needs desperately to ejaculate. He’ll answer anything asked to make it stop. Roxie brings the moaning man to the brink and then she suddenly stops her hand work and pulls it away. Superman’s chest continues to heave while his pelvis quivers and his rock hard penis bobs and jerks in the air between his legs. And then Lex asks another question from his control board a dozen feet away.

“Would a kryptonite dildo in either her ass or her vagina kill Supergirl?”

“...yes..certainly...in time....you know that...” Superman barks out, crazed by his needs, his face flushed and wild.

“How much time?”

“...too many...variables...” the broken champion suddenly mumbles quietly as the need to cum dissipates. His head drops low, rolling on his shoulders. “...like....uhhh...the..quality of the kryptonite...”

“Assume the very best. I only use the best,” Luthor beams.

“..30 minutes...maybe less...”

“Really? That quickly? I don’t believe you.” The control panel lever is jolted forward again and the steel anal rod plunges eight inches deep into the hero’s cavity.

“AAAAIEEEEYAAARGGHHHH!”

The whine of the rod retracting fills the air for a moment.

“How long, really, Kal?”

“....an hour...an hour...ohhhh.....arggghh.....60 minutes...sixty....owwww...minutes... maybe a little more...or a little less...around that though...an hour....okay..?...is that...okay?” The blubbering Man of Steel has drool running out of his quivering mouth, his chin rubs against his chest and his dick has gone soft.

“Yes, I get it, champ. About an hour. You made yourself clear. And that’s sounds more like it. Okay, Roxie, you can finish him off. He’s earned it.”

“Uuhh, Lex, he’s wilted. That last spike up his butt killed his boner.”

“Ah well, I guess no happy ending for Superman today.” The bald villain walks over to the chair holding his prize captive. “Hold the kryptonite flood lamp on him for a minute at max power, Rox.”

Roxie turns up the kryptonite lamp to it’s highest setting. This draws an agonized groan from the Man of Steel who jerks with pain in the manacles. His face and body blooms with even more sweat that drips down in rivulets as the lamp throws its nauseating, debilitating rays onto him. Agonized, he turns his face to the side and the dazzling green light burns against his cheek and brings yet more tears to his eyes. His body cringes as far away as possible but the straps pinning him in the chair don’t give the devastated hero any real leeway. When Roxie plays the devastating green radiation lamp over the famous emblem on Superman’s chest and then his stomach and exposed dick, his back arches and he screams out in pain, then slumps limply in his restraints.

“That’s fine, Roxie. Let’s drag his sorry ass back into the slime tub. We’re done for now.”

“....no....don’t...noohhh....not again....not the tub...please...no,” Superman whimpers in tears. “You’re killing me...”

“Oh, nonsense, Kal! I’m not killing you. In fact, I’m making absolutely sure you don’t die. Gosh, it’s like you don’t even trust me.”

Luthor lets out a hearty laugh as he presses a button on the back of the chair that retracts the waist, thigh and wrist restraining bands back into the chair. Luthor quickly puts his hand on the slumping Superman’s chest, pushing against the world-renowned red and yellow S emblem to prevent the ashen-faced hero from falling to the floor. He thumbs a second button on the back of the chair activating the whine of the retractable anal rod as it lowers back into the titanium chair.

After a moment, Luthor removes his hand from Superman’s chest and the waxy-faced champion topples forward to the floor in a limp heap of useless muscle. The mighty hero having been rendered helpless is quickly dragged across the floor by the twosome. His bare ass quivers and bounces under the overhead lights as he’s pulled along. At the edge of the brushed steel tub, the famed Last Son of Krypton is roughly hoisted up, still with his costume clustered around his thighs and his limp penis flopping against the edge of the tub. He’s then dropped unceremoniously into the large slime tub, his body rolling over on his back with the curve of the tub and sinking into the thick glowing green gel with a splash and a heavy plopping noise.

After waiting several moments and humming to pass the time, Luthor finally reaches in and pulls Superman’s head up by the hair out of the slimy muck. His mouth gapes open, working his lips in a distended oval like a landed trout at the edge of a lake trying to breathe. He whoops and gasps and sputters green gel everywhere. His straining face is coated in thick green slime. It thins down to a pale green film that drips steadily onto his chest. Roxie efficiently loops a steel mesh collar around his throat and hooks it to the rim of the tub to keep the gasping, weakened prisoner from drowning under the surface of the glowing green slime.

“Enjoy your rest, Superman. You were very cooperative. Just as I arranged.”

The electric winch drowns out the pitiful groans of the defenseless Defender of Earth as the clear reinforced glass bubble cover slides over the twitching, trembling body, sealing him to his glowing fate for another four hours before he’s cycled out of the tub for recovery time


* * *


Tony sits on the large sectional couch in the living room of his suite sipping his black coffee and just thinking through the steps of his plans for the evening. Carmine occupies the plush armchair set to Tony’s left. He’s drinking his own coffee and running over probable points that Don Gino Lupenzo will be making in the meeting this coming evening.

Both men begin to speak simultaneously.

“Gino’s going to want...” Carmine says.

“The timing on this...” Tony declares.

Both men stop talking and look at each other and wait for the other to continue speaking. Neither does for five seconds, until Carmine finally talks.

“Sorry,” he says, “What were you going to say, Tony?”

“Just that the timing this evening will be critical. We’ll only have a half hour or so to get to whatever restaurant that Don Baldini chooses for the meet.” The younger don sips his coffee and then sits forward slightly on the couch. “If one of Gino’s guys is close by, he could plant a piece somewhere before we do.”

“So could we, no?” Carmine’s eyebrows hike up.

“Yeah, but I don’t like the odds. Baldini is likely to choose a place on or near his turf and that’s closer to Gino than to us.”

“So you’re thinking something in Queens?” Carmine drains his coffee as he takes in Tony’s reply.

“If I were doing security, I’d sure want to be familiar with the place and Baldini owns Queens.”

“So let’s get one of our guys out there and have him ready to drop a piece as soon as we know the joint. We’re supposed to have a half hour to show up.”

“Makes sense,” Tony nods. “Yeah, let’s do it. Cover our bases as best we can. Send Mario, he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Also, we know there will be a pat down for guns. There may even be metal detectors. Tomas is a stickler for procedure. So I’m outfitting us both with these...” Tony puts his finished coffee cup on the low table and reaches into a drawer in the end table beside the couch. He takes out two medium-sized knives with blue handles and white blades. “They’re ceramic so they won’t show up on a metal detector. They’re not much but it’s better to have something than nothing if push comes to shove.”

Carmine reaches for the blade and thumbs it’s edge.

“Careful!” Tony is too late as the incredibly sharp blade cuts a neat little dash in the middle of Carmine’s thumb. It swells red immediately.

“Crap,” says the older Don, dropping the knife on the rug and whipping out a handkerchief that he wraps around his thumb. “That is a sharp little mother!” Pulling away the bloodied cloth Carmine sucks on his thumb and stands up to head to the kitchen to wash and bandage the small cut.

Tony stands up, retrieves the sharp blade from the floor, placing it on the coffee table and then follows Carmine to the kitchen. “I’m also wondering how many guys of his own Baldini will bring.”

“Does it matter?” Carmine runs the water in the sink when he gets there, letting it get very hot to better clean out the wound.

“It could. If things get messy, who knows what side Baldini’s team’ll come down on, Gino’s or ours.”

“True. We’ll have to be sure things don’t get messy.” Carmine sticks his thumb under the water running steaming hot out of the tap. He hisses at the pain of it but keeps it there for a moment, looking up at the ceiling and counting to five. He takes it out of the stream and covers it with a paper towel.

Tony reaches into a nearby cupboard where he keeps Band-Aids and antiseptic ointment.

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Tony says. “Here give me your thumb.” He applies the ointment and then pulls the Band-Aid tightly around Carmine’s thumb.

“You sound like you want something to go down, Ton.”

“I’m expecting it. That’s all.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Bonano,” Carmine says scowling. “I really do want to walk out of this meeting alive. Don’t you?”

“Of course,” Tony says distractedly as he leans against the counter now, chin in hand looking down at his shoes and thinking.

“You don’t sound like you do. And I don’t like the vibe I’m getting here. What’s going on, Tony? What have you got up your sleeve?”

“What? Oh, nothing.”

Carmine grabs Tony’s shoulders and gives him a good shake, his eyes boring into the younger don’s with an intensity that Tony hasn’t seen in years.

“Listen to me, you little fuck! I was wipin’ snot off your lip before you were old enough to do it yourself. I love you like a son, Tony, but I’m not going to die for you. Now tell me what you got planned or you’ll need someone else to second you at this meeting tonight.”

Tony is shaken both literally and figuratively by Carmine’s sudden vehemence. He looks at the man who’d been almost an absentee father through the years and sighs. Then he tells Carmine his plans. All of them.

When he’s done, the older Don breaks out into a smile that lights up his whole face. Also a rare sight that Tony hasn’t seen very often.

“Tony. You’re a fuckin’ genius! I’m in. Anyone else know?”

“Nope,” grins Tony back. “Just us.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Carmine nods heartily, still smiling. And then he pinches Tony’s cheek. “What a thinker you turned out to be.”

And then the phone rings.

“Yeah?” Tony answers the kitchen wall phone. “He is? Is this a joke? No, don’t do that. Send him up. Back way. Keep it on the down low.”

“What’s that about?” Carmine takes a glass out of the cupboard and fills it with tap water. He’s drinking it down when Tony answers.

“Sergei is on his way up. And he’s drunk as a skunk.”

Carmine spits the water across the kitchen.


* * *


“So, do you have a name for me?”

“No. He ain’t decided yet.”

“Well, push him on it. You got 100 grand of my money. I expect results.”

“I can’t make it obvious. My life wouldn’t be worth a plug nickel.”

“If I don’t get that name, it’s worth even less than that!”

“You’ll get it. At least an hour before. That was the deal.”

“If it’s more than an hour you’ll get more.”

“How much more?

“Five grand for every hour ahead of time.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“You got my number.”


* * *


When the soft knock comes to Tony’s door, he almost doesn’t hear it. He and Carmine are in the kitchen trying to decide what to do about their unexpected guest. By the louder second knock however the two don’s are at the suite’s front door. On the other side is the loud voice of a very drunk Russian hit man.

“This is not to be okay. I am respected member of his team. Head of security. Me. You know this, Frankie.”

Shaking his head, Tony opens the door.

“Why do you not let me....TONY!” Spreading his arms wide, the six-foot hefty Russian with dyed black hair envelops his mob boss in a bear hug. The reek of vodka on his breath has Tony flinching and Carmine backing up a step. Then, when the soused Russian goes to hug the older Don, Carmine thrusts his arm out and keeps the stupidly-grinning man at bay.

“Keep off me, you drunk motherfucker. You smell like a damn distillery!”

“Da, I have had some cocktails. And by cocktails I mean a bottle of vodka and a bottle of olives in my hotel room.” Sergei wavers before the two men like he’s fighting a headwind.

Frankie the bouncer shrugs his shoulders and Tony waves him off with a “thanks, I’ll take it from here” motion.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Tony faces off against Sergei hands on his hips. “You’re every cop’s wet dream for a collar and you’re about as low-profile as Kim Kardassian with a neon ball-gag! Get in here!” He pulls the wavering Sergei into the living room and closes the suite’s door.

“I was bored to tears, Tony. I had to come back. Oh and yes I was to be needing my favorite knife. I left it in my room. You have this?”

“I don’t know, Sergei,” Tony replies. “I cleaned your room out after your little shootout in the CVS store. Everything’s been boxed up. It could be in there. I put it in lockup in the basement. Why’s this knife so important that you’d risk ten years in jail anyhow?”

“Sentimental value. It was my dear sweet mother’s.”

Carmine and Tony just look at each other and try not to laugh at the melancholic Russian who’s tearing up.

“Hey! Numbnuts!”Tony barks, bringing Sergei back from his quick drunken trip down memory lane. “You’re lucky you weren’t pinched in the street on the way over.”

“Not me. I am like cat in fog. Completely dishcreet.”

“Fucking Russian moron,” growls Carmine. “You coulda brought the heat here.”

“You want to have a go at me, tubby?” Sergei’s dyed eyebrows rise up like two caterpillars squaring off in a cage match. The Russian faces Carmine with insulted righteousness but Tony grabs the drunken mobster’s elbow and pulls him toward the bathroom. Stumbling, Sergei jitterbugs his way behind Tony.

“Hey, where are you taking me. I am to be fighting Carmine the Fat Fuck.”

“No, you are to be taking a cold shower and sobering up and sleeping it off,” the exasperated young don commands.

“This also is a plan. You are good at plans, Tony.”

“Yeah, thanks, Sergei. That means a lot coming from a man without any. Now get in there and shower,” Tony says, pushing Sergei the final few steps toward the bathroom.

With the Russian narrating his every move through the bathroom door, Tony and Carmine just look at each other and shake their heads in futility.

“....SOCKS ARE OFF...” Sergei shouts. “...ALMOST PANTS AS WELL....” “FULLY NAKED!” The sound of the shower running comes through. “....OOHH IS COLD....GETTING WET...!”

“Great timing, huh?” Carmine says with a near groan.

“The best,” scowls Tony.

“...WHERE IS AMAZON WHORE TO WASH MY DICK..?...”

“She heard you were coming and killed herself,” Carmine calls through the door, winking at Tony.

“HAS TO BE YOU THEN CARMINE! COME WASH MY JUNK!” The big Russian giggles loudly in the spray.

The older don’s face falls like a bloodhound who’s lost a bone. He looks at Tony with a sigh. “Is it too early for a drink?”

Looking at his watch, Tony sees it’s just two minutes after noon. “Nope. I’ll join you.”

* * *

Back upstairs in the penthouse suite, Supergirl is now in her costume facing off against Wonder Woman who’s dressed in her own original costume, wearing everything but her power belt. Even her indestructible Feminum bracelets adorn her wrists.

“You little twerp,” Diana growls. “Take that back.”

“It’s only the truth, Di. Aren’t you the Queen of Truth? Tony’s got you whoring for him tonight while I get to be his bodyguard. It’s obvious who he thinks more highly of.”

“You’re so dumb, you even ended that sentence with a preposition,” Wonder Woman declares.

“Better than a proposition which you’ll be starting the night with.”

“You did it again!” Wonder Woman’s face says in amazement.

“That’s what he said, after you came on his face,” Supergirl taunts. “In fact, with how much you drizzle, I think your Guido will need a Speedo.”

She’s so self-satisfied with her clever rhyming putdown of the Amazon, Supergirl doesn’t even see the gut punch that drops her to a shaking knee, wheezing for air.

“Come on, blondie,” says Wonder Woman, bouncing on her toes with her eyes blazing down at the gasping, pale-faced Supergirl, “say something else clever.”

After 15 seconds down on one knee with her arm cradling her belly, Supergirl lifts her head. “That was not nice, Princess. And definitely not smart. There’s no kryptonite around at the moment to reduce my powers. And that sucker punch wasn’t playing fair.”

“Oh, but calling me a whore and telling me I cum too much is, Kara?”

“If the shoe fits....” Supergirl smiles as she rises, ready to grapple with the haughty Amazon and let off a little steam. Maybe she’ll take the stick out of her ass for her...via her mouth!

“You like shoes? How about mine?” Wonder Woman goes to plant her boot directly onto Supergirl’s knee but the young teenager is too fast for her, easily sidestepping the announced move and countering with a hard fist into Wonder Woman’s side.

“GHUUUNGH!” It’s the black-haired beauty’s turn to gasp and drop to one knee.

“Really, Diana? Telling an opponent your move? What is this? Geezers Get Down?”

“Why are you being so hurtful,” gasps the Amazon warrior as she feathers her hand to her side to rub the harsh twitch of pain there and looks up at Supergirl.

“Why do you always think you’re better than everyone?” Supergirl growls.

“Why can’t you think for a change instead of just spraying everyone with your emotional vomit?”

“What!!??” Supergirl’s jaw drops open in shock.

“It’s true! Your super powers have always done the heavy lifting for you, Kara,” Wonder Woman says, rising up and putting her hands on her hips. The two women’s glares meet and their eyes widen as they face off. “You don’t think things through. You rush into situations and when they don’t go your way, you mess things up even more. It’s common knowledge.”

“And you’re so practical and clear thinking you gave into Tony’s demands with less pressure than your tits put on that bustier of yours!”

“I fought back as hard as I could,” Wonder Woman says, her voice tight and pitched higher than usual.

“Yeah, real heroic. What was it, a whole two days?”

“You miserable little alien bitch!”

“Amazonian cock tease!”

The two women’s arms fly out toward each other and each grabs a fistful of hair and begin to pull, yanking at the roots like harpies possessed. The screeching and maneuvering for position fills the living room with commotion. Very unheroic, the pair of famous females battle back and forth across the carpet, straining and grunting and swearing and yanking for all their worth. Heads are angled, eyes bulge, teeth are shown and curses are uttered.

Neither heroine gets a solid edge on the other, even as hands release hair and reach for costume waistbands and bustier edges. A golden fabric eagle is stretched out and cocoa-colored nipples pop free. A skirt is yanked down and a fresh and sweaty camel toe is exposed. In the end, after rolling around on the floor for six minutes with no clear victor, the Disgruntled Duo finally fall apart, each beauty lying on her back and gasping for air after the embittered battle.

And when both have regained their wind, Supergirl gets up and heads toward the bedroom, calling over her shoulder with heavy rancor, “Tony’ll be up around two o’clock with my crack. Send him into the bedroom. Meanwhile you stay out!”

“You couldn’t get me in there for all the riches of Croesus.”

“I don’t know who that is” Supergirl yells back, “but if he’s got a cock, I’m sure you’ve sucked it.”

“....brainless bimbo..!...” grumbles Wonder Woman as the bedroom door slams.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Dang, at least Kara and Diana are allowed a little bit of downtime by Tony but Lex keeps Kal on a 24/7 hell ride. And to make his situation even more precarious superman ahs to also worry about Roxie and the sadistic kick she gets out of messing with him sexually.Coughstillkindofhotthoughcough. With the constant exposure to kryptonite, Lex's random assortment of torture and Roxie's various 'skills' he is in far dire straights than the girls at this point and while they always have that small chance of escape, Lex isnt gonna make the mistake of giving him an opening.

Wonder what Tony's got planned that got that kind of reaction from Carmine and has him so confident about the meeting. And i might have either missed it or it might have slipped my mind but are the other mob heads still riding Tony's ass to release the girls since it is giving them unwanted attention? Or has the money from the DVD's calmed them down for the time being? I recall he was originally gonna release Kara first after the failed bank heist then Diana some time later but that went tits up and i cant recall if him agreeing to release the girls on Kara's promise that she wouldn't interfere in his affairs was brought up again? Obviously he decided to keep them anyway but i was just curious.

And now the Russian is back, and drunk AND he is gonna be armed with a knife....how lovely. And with Kara leaving to provide security, poor Diana is gonna be in the same building as him alone. That's gonna be a surefire way to curb any defiance she might have been going to display that evening.

So nice to see the girls getting along-sarcasm-. Hot damn those were fighting words, and just when both girls need to be united more than ever, talk about poor timing lol. Kara hitting a little below the belt there, especially since its kind of(completely) her fault that Diana is even there to begin with. But maybe a good ol fashioned fist fight is what they need to square whatever the hell they believe is going on between them away and put it behind them. But getting tuckered out by a cat fight doesn't bode well for either of them, more so for Diana since Kara still has the collar on blocking out the bulk of her abilities and Diana actually has training.
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Indeed, TAG, Superman is going to have to be saved by outside forces if he's ever going to get out of Lex's clutches. And even if he is, he may be psychologically damaged beyond repair even so to take up his role as superhero.

As for the other families clamoring for the release of the two heroines, they've been somewhat mollified by Tony's steady monetary infusion into the General Fund and the fact that neither girl has been in the public eye lately and have dropped out of the front page headlines. However, that's part of what this big meeting is about: a truce in the war and an attempt to get Tony to release the heroines. Maybe he will be willing to now that he's accomplished his goals with them and made a mint from their two DVD series.

In any case, it's all going to come to a head within the next few chapters... Enjoy!
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Last Minute Chess Moves
Part 70-B



“Oh, hell no! You’re way too hot to go to this meeting tonight, Sergei. That’s final. You shouldn’t even be in this building.”

Tony is pacing in front of Sergei who sits on the couch in a beige and white coordinated leisure outfit of stretch pants and hoodie. He looks like a jogger from the 80s who just stopped off for a double decaf.

“But Tony, there is much I can do to help you in this meeting...” Sergei has his hand up with one finger out, ready to count off the reasons when Tony cuts him off.

“Are you nuts? I’ve got a Police Captain who’d love nothing more than to put the cuffs on you right here at the Dome in front of every fucking news photographer on the East Coast. It’s five years of job security guaranteed! Think, Sergei. You’re a wanted man.”

“I threw a baby. What’s so terrible?” Sergei nods at Carmine. “You have killed many people I am sure but no one calls you a monster. I don’t get this. Americans and their babies.” Carmine says nothing and just shakes his head at the Russian thug.

“You just stay here at the Pleasure Dome until I can smuggle you out later tonight, Sergei. What’s more, I’m expecting a call any minute now from Don Baldini about final arrangements for tonight. It’ll be on speaker phone. You absolutely cannot be here.”

“Where can I go? Upstairs to see my old friends, perhaps? Wonder Cocksucker and Super Pussy?”

“NO! Stay away from them! I need them sharp tonight. You’ll make them both too nervous.”

“You have become an old maid, Tony Bonano, since I have left. You need a male role model like me to make you tough again, nyet?”

“NYET! I mean it, Sergei. Stay away from the girls. Carmine, take this master key and let him use one of the empty apartments downstairs. There’s no one in Suite 36, I believe. Sergei, you stay put and stay out of trouble. I’ve got things running smoothly enough for the moment and....” The phone rings and Tony’s eyes narrow in concentration instead of going wide in alarm. Carmine is pleased to note it and even Sergei gains respect for the young don who nods at Carmine while pulling Sergei bodily out of the armchair.

“Get him downstairs now. And take the stairs, not the elevator. Then hurry back, Carm. I’ll try to stall them til you return. Move!”

“You’re making a mistake, Tony. I could slide a knife in Lupenzo before he knows anything, like sticking up some grandma for a welfare check. It would be my gift to you.”

“Shut him up, Carmine and get him out of here, now!!” Tony takes three long strides over to the phone and waits for a beat as Carmine closes the suite door behind them as he marches Sergei toward the fire stairs.

“I can be walking myself, thank you.” Sergei shrugs off Carmine’s guiding hand on his elbow and walks ahead of the portly don.

Back in the suite, on the fifth ring, Tony squares his shoulders and checks his watch. It’s 12:50 p.m. He picks up the telephone’s handset. “Good afternoon, Tony Bonano’s residence,” he says in a nasal high voice.

“This is Don Tomas Baldini. Mr. Bonano is expecting my call.”

“I will get Mr. Bonano. It won’t be a minute.” Tony tucks the lower end of the handset under his arm and checks his watch for the time. Then keeps an eye on the door. He lets 40 seconds go by before he speaks into the phone again. Using the same high nasal tone he says, “Mr. Bonano will be with you shortly. He’s just finishing up another call.”

“Tell Mr. Bonano that time is money,” calls Don Gino Lupenzo from the background on the other end of the line. “Lots of money. His money!”

Tony’s anger notches up a bit but he controls it. After another 30 seconds, Carmine finally returns to the suite.

“I have Mr. Bonano for you now, sir,” Tony says in his high nasal voice first. He makes some noise against the mouthpiece and then uses his normal voice. “Don Baldini, I apologize for the delay. It’s been a busy day but I’m all yours now. Let me put you on speaker phone. I’ve got Don Carmine Vega here with me to discuss final preparations for tonight.”

Tony and Carmine settle down side by side on the living room couch, the young don taking the phone with him, flinging out the cord and setting the device on the coffee table before them. Tony pushes the speakerphone button and puts the handset back in the cradle.

“Don Bonano, I appreciate how busy you must be with a building filled with superheroines to control. It cannot be easy. I can’t imagine how much you must have to spend on steel chains and ball gags. I do hope it’s not hurting your bottom line.” Don Baldini’s famous dry wit hasn’t dulled with advanced age. His tongue is as sharp as his hidden knives always were.

“I’m doing alright, Don Baldini. I appreciate your concern of course. But as you can tell from the money I’ve been contributing to the Common Fund recently, my good fortune is the family’s as well.”

“And I appreciate that, Don Bonano,” says Baldini tersely. “But your actions have drawn far too much attention to our Family. I want it stopped. I want you and Don Lupenzo to come to terms tonight once and for all. Things are unacceptable as they now stand.”

“I look forward to settling matters once and for all, Don Baldini. I assure you,” Tony says with a smooth earnest tone.

Baldini isn’t mollified yet. “If blood is shed tonight, Don Bonano, nobody will profit.” The old Don’s voice is angry yet authoritative. “It will linger like a cancer on the Family and I will not let that happen. Who have you chosen as your two seconding attendants tonight?”

“I will not draw first blood tonight, Don Baldini,” Tony asserts, bypassing the question for the moment. “Has Don Lupenzo promised this as well?”

“I will not break the truce, Tony,” Gino Lupenzo barks on the other end of the phone. “I have upheld my end.”

“I hate to disrespect you Don Baldini,” Tony says with a calm cool tone, “but Don Lupenzo is a lying bastard. He broke the truce just a couple of days ago when he killed two of my soldiers in Besonhurst on a regular job, a jewelry heist.”

“A heist on my turf, you arrogant prick!” Gino shouts in return.

“CHILDREN!” Don Baldini shouts over Gino, then pauses a few beats before continuing in his normal voice. “If you continue to not play nice there will be consequences. Dire consequences that I will impose on you both that everyone else in the Family from New York to San Diego will back me up on. Do I make myself clear?”

Tony and Carmine give each other a worried look. Don Baldini had played his ace in the hole. He had lined up the entire network of the Cosa Nostra to bring its full weight to bear on the outcome of this meeting. Tony’s eyes shift back and forth in rapid thought. Carmine just watches him and waits.

“I understand Don Baldini,” Tony finally responds. “I will play nicely with Don Lupenzo from now on if he agrees to play nicely with me.”

“I will,” Gino says, his tone quieter now. He too has been chided and it tells in his voice.

“Don Bonano, Don Lupenzo here has informed me that his man Basso will be attending him tonight along with a woman named Scarlett O’Shea. Who will be attending as your seconds in this negotiation?”

“I will be coming with Don Carmine Vega here,” Tony says.

“Good evening, Don Baldini,” Carmine offers. “And hello Don Lupenzo. I look forward to settling this matter amicably once and for all.”

“Thank you, Carmine,” replies Gino. It will be good to have a voice of true reason to help along the proceedings tonight.”

“Don Lupenzo, you have the manners of a pig,” the elder Don Baldini declares. “Don Vega used the proper form and the best you can do...well, no wonder you generate such bad blood. I hope you are better behaved this evening!”

“My deepest apologies, Don Vega,” Gino rushes in obsequiously. “I meant no disrespect. Our years of familiarity obscured my manners. I deeply regret the infraction.”

“No offense taken, Don Lupenzo,” Carmine replies. “I look forward to sharing a good Chianti with you this evening. Our common affection for a good vintage will help smooth the final language of the terms between us, I’m sure.” Carmine is the soul of diplomacy.

“And your other seconding attendant, Tony? Who is that to be,” Don Baldini asks.

“I’m bringing Supergirl.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is unbroken for a full ten seconds. It ticks by slowly as Tony just looks at Carmine and winks. Finally, Don Baldini speaks up.

“I see. The one who engendered this whole misunderstanding in the first place. Well, it should prove most interesting to meet the young woman. If I may ask, Don Bonano. How will she be of assistance to you if she is strictly bound and gagged as I must insist she be?”

“I had not intended to restrain her in any way, Don Baldini,” Tony replies. “Why would I?”

“Why would you?” Gino Lupenzo blurts out in exasperation on the other end. “Don Vega, you cannot support this plan? You are a reasonable man. Tell your protege he is a mad...he is most mistaken if he believes I will accept her as a second if she is in no way restrained.”

“I have to agree with Don Lupenzo on this matter, Don Bonano,” Baldini interjects. “She is an uneven force at such a negotiation. I cannot allow it.”

“That seems unfair to me but I understand your position. In fact, I anticipated it. I will have a restraining collar put on Supergirl with kryptonite embedded within it. It has proven most effective in curtailing her powers almost instantaneously, gentlemen. She will wear this collar tonight and to you, Don Baldini, I will provide the remote control. Will that suffice?”

“It will to me,” Baldini answers, “after I see it tested before the meeting proceeds, during the security screening. Is that alright with you Don Lupenzo?”

“I can live with that I suppose.”

“Will there be anything else, gentlemen,” Tony asks. “I have many things to attend to before tonight.”

“Just a few final details, Don Bonano,” Baldini continues. “You will get a call from my office 30 minutes before to inform you of where the meeting will take place. I want both of you to come to the table tonight prepared to come to a negotiated conclusion to this mess and for the family to get back to a quiet, lower profile from tomorrow on. There will be no firearms allowed by either party and you will be aggressively searched, I assure you. This WILL be a fair and if not amicable then at least non-violent event,” Baldini declares in cold vehement tones. “If things get out of hand I have the full authority of the families to impose the harshest penalties possible. I and my two men WILL be carrying firearms to impose such penalties on the spot. Now are there any further questions?”

“No, sir. Not from me,” Tony states.

“Nor I,” replies Gino.

“I look forward to bringing this matter to a peaceful and beneficial end to all concerned,” Carmine.

“Well said, Don Vega. And I as well. I will see you later tonight. Goodbye.” The phone clicks off and Tony leans forward, pushing the speaker button and ending the call from his end.

“Nothing we didn’t expect,” Carmine said.

“Nope,” Tony nodded. “Now I’m going to go up and give the girls their drugs. We’ve got at least four hours before we’re going to hear anything I’d say. You should try to catch some shut eye if you can. It could be a long night, Carmine.”

“Good idea, Tony.” See you around 3:30 or so, just to be on the safe side.”


* * *


“Yes?”

“It’s me.”

“You got the place?”

“Yeah. It’s 1:30 now. That’s three hours ahead of schedule. So you owe me...”

“....fifteen grand extra. Yeah, I can do the math. I’m good for it. You know that. Give me the name.”

“It’s a place called Anatra! With an exclamation point. It’s in Queens just like you expected. It’s 42 Vernon Boulevard in Long Island City. Hunter’s Point section.”

“Hmmpf... that area’s pretty trashy.”

“But it’s quiet which is what’s Tomas wants. Plus, it’s right on the edge of gentrification. This is a new joint that opened up two months ago. Good food I’m told. The owner’s a friend of Don Baldini. The name? It’s Italian. It means....”

“...Duck!”

“Right, the specialty of the house.”

“But not the verb.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Thanks for this. You’re payment will be delivered later tonight as we discussed.”

“One hundred and fifteen grand.”

“Like I said, I can do the math, Frankie.”

“Hey! No fuckin’ names.”

“This is a secure line. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Don Gino Lupenzo hung up the phone and smiled. He would have Tony Bonano’s head on a platter tonight. Shot dead in an Italian restaurant just the way Gino had killed old man Bonano. If Carmine played it smart, he’d live through it. Carmine he could work with. Carmine wasn’t an impatient greedy fuck.

“Duck,” muttered the old don who then chuckled at the name. It would be a verb after all, but Tony wouldn’t find that out until it was way too late.


* * *


Supergirl paces the penthouse’s bedroom like a caged tiger. She walks the circuit incessantly, from the tall dresser to the bedroom door and from there to the mirrored closet door. After a quick glance and seeing only her own furtive blue eyes reflected back at her, the anxious beauty recoils at their haunted look, then paces to the foot of the bed and than back to dresser. Her footprints in the plush carpet show her beaten path in the shifting light through the bedroom window.

“He should be here by now with my crack. I hope Tony isn’t taking all his time handing over the heroin to that Amazon hussy. She’s probably thanking him with a quick hummer, that obsequious cow!”

In the living room of the two heroines’ suite, Tony is not getting any such favorable treatment. He has called Carlo from his room to give him instructions for the evening and to provide Wonder Woman with her heroin kit for the afternoon. The small zippered leather case has been prepared by Tony with medium grade heroin that will give the Amazon a wonderful buzz but not incapacitate her to the point of incoherence. He needed her to be able to deal with the john during the evening festivities while he was off at the big meeting. He didn’t want her too bleary eyed and disoriented from too strong a dose of heroin. Things had to go his way tonight and if Wonder Woman was not on her game, it could throw a monkey wrench in his plans.

“Wonder Woman, you remember Carlo. He took Stevie’s place. He’s been recording your most recent performances and handling the editing and promotional trailers for your DVD series. Carlo, this is Wonder Woman.”

Carlo has been appraising the Amazonian princess in the flesh. He’s been watching her for countless hours on recordings sucking off mob johns with her bobbing head and busy mouth, focusing on shots where she’s letting them cum on her massive naked tits or taking a hard stiff dick in her ass, but for all that, her physical presence in the room with him is still nothing less than breathtaking. Even though she’s lost weight and her costume sags on her butt and under her tits like it never had before and her pallor was a bit peaked, she was still a stunning woman in person.

“I’m so pleased to finally meet you, Wonder Woman,” The short stocky videographer bows and kisses the back of her hand that he unexpectedly grabs from her side. “You are a goddess.”

“And you are a maggot.”

“Princess...” Tony growls. “We’ve discussed this kind of behavior.

“A charming maggot,” Wonder Woman adds as she pulls her hand away from the bowing Carlo before he can drool on it any more.

“Now act nice,” Tony commands. “Carlo’s in charge. I’m going back to see Supergirl.” Tony makes his way toward the rear of the suite where the bedroom is located.

Diana suddenly notices the leather kit that Carlo is holding in his other hand and she licks her lips in eager anticipation. “Oh, is that for me, that little leather case there?” Wonder Woman goes to pull it out of Carlo’s hands but he pulls it back and holds it behind his back.

“Ah, ah, ah, Princess,” Carlo chides, his smile broad but not friendly in the least. “It’s yours but not quite yet. I’d like to see a much nicer attitude.”

“And I’d like a villa in the south of France,” declares the Amazon. “Life is full of disappointments.”

“One of those disappointments is going to be you bent over with dry heaves and the running sweats from withdrawal if you don’t work with me, you stuck up bitch. You heard Tony. Act nice to me. I know how much you need this shit,” Carlo says, rocking the leather case over his head to taunt the heroine with the angry eyes.

“I could just take that from you, you know, Carlo. I am still Wonder Woman and you’re just some pipsqueak with a Napoleon complex.” The tall Amazon moves her body into Carlo’s personal space, her huge breasts right against his chin as she grips his shoulder in her palm, squeezing it hard.

“I suppose you could do that, pin me against a wall and just pull this kit from me without me being able to put up much of a fight,” Carlo says, surprisingly calm despite the dominating move by the big woman. “Sure, that could happen, but if you did that, I’d have to tell Sergei to come up here and discipline you.”

“Sergei’s long gone, you weasel,” Diana says tossing her hair back over her shoulders with a flaunty shake of her head. “And you’re beginning to bore me. Give me that case now so I can shoot up.”

“You should stay more in touch with what’s going on around here, Princess. Sergei is downstairs right now. You want me to get him? I’m sure he could adjust your attitude right quick.”

“S...S...Sergei is here? In the building now?” Wonder Woman’s face drains of all color and she takes an awkward step back, her eyes darting around for a weapon, even though she has a fake lasso hanging on her hip, her original tiara and her real bracelets. It doesn’t feel like its enough. Nothing feels like it’s enough when it comes to that Russian monster.

“You bet your ass, Wonder Woman. He’s even asking for you, I hear.”

“...m..mm..mhh....meee....?” The whine in the famous beauty’s voice is unmistakable and Carlo is overjoyed at her reaction to the news.

“That’s what I hear. Now do you think you can act nice to me now, junkie. Tony did okay this lovely little dose of primo horse. And we both know you’re dying to use it.”

“..w...what do you want...” murmurs the chastened champion, her eyes on the carpet and her posture clearly defeated.

“Not much really? Just pull down your top and then finger your pussy for me.”

Wonder Woman’s head slowly lifts. Her eyes are hesitant, her lip quivering. “And...and you’ll give me the heroin if I do.”

“Of course. Fair’s fair, Princess. I’m an easy man to please. Oh, and you’ll let me fuck you, of course, after I let you shoot up. That’s a given.”

“...of course it is...” Wonder Woman looks abjectly at Carlo and the case he holds out to her, just a foot from her reach.

“So, do we have a deal, addict?”

“..yes...it’s a deal....” mumbles the raven-haired woman, her voice barely audible.

“Speak up please, whore,” Carlo demands.

“Yes! Everything you want for that case.”

“Excellent. Now let’s see those titties, champ. Nice and slow now.”

Sullenly, Wonder Woman puts her left hand to the top of her bustier and grabs the gold fabric eagle there. She slowly pulls it downward and the cleavage gets bigger and bigger. More and more of her breasts are shown, their creamy shapes revealed, their rounded curves expanding as Wonder Woman takes a deep nervous breath, filling her lungs to capacity. And then the areolae peek out, their cocoa upper crescents slowly growing as the red and gold fabric is tugged away in a slow withdrawal that has Carlo’s mouth watering. Just then the dark brown nipples appear. They are flat but nicely-sized for that, and as the fabric pulls against them in a final tug by Wonder Woman, they spring to proud upward-pointing attention, not engorged but slightly stimulated. The bustier is pulled down further and the mighty 44-inch globes are now fully exposed, their roundness jiggling lightly from their release from fabric captivity.

Carlo’s widened eyes are fixed on the Amazon’s chest and his mouth is slack with dumbstruck appreciation. He gulps, licks his lips and says, “Work the nipples, please.”

Though glaring at him, Wonder Woman complies. Both thumbs and forefingers on both hands reach up and tweak and pull at the sensitive nubs, stretching the big breasts into slight conical shapes before releasing them to shimmy and wobble in the open air.

“There! Happy?” Wonder Woman releases the nipples and puts her hands on her hips, letting her chest bobble freely for the young Italian twerp before her.

“Definitely enjoying myself. You?”

“Not til you give me that case.”

“Part Two, Princess. Don’t forget that. Put those fingers in your pussy and go to town.”

“You little creep. If I didn’t....if that man weren’t...if Tony hadn’t....”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Life’s so unfair. Boo hoo. Now pull that crotch open and let me see the famous Champion of All Women fingerfuck herself to a climax.”

“A climax?!! You never said...I never agreed to...to..that!”

“You think I just wanted to see your fingers get a little wet, bitch?” Carlo barks out a rude laugh. “Hell no! I want to see your cum draining down your thighs like a leaky faucet. The sooner you start the sooner you get your reward.” He holds the case up and wiggles it in Wonder Woman’s face from four feet away.

Defeated by her need for the drug and her long slide into submission at the hands of the Mob and by the underlying terror of Sergei back in the building, Wonder Woman pulls aside the crotch of her blue panties with her left hand. The wrinkled white star folds in on itself as the fabric is pulled away and the heroine’s fleshy labial lips are revealed. The fingers on her right hand begin to slide up and down the crease of her pussy in slow nervous strokes. Cameras all around the penthouse, set to automatic, record the humiliating moment for posterity. It’s just one more rung down on the ladder of Wonder Woman’s descent into moral oblivion.

Unbidden by Carlo, she picks up her pace, wanting to be done with this so she can plunge her tormented brain into the drifting freedom of uncaring drugged lassitude. It calls to her as she rubs her twat vigorously now, the fingers stroking up and down in a blur as Carlo watches her willingly abuse herself for his entertainment. The glistening gap between her now shaking thighs gleams in the light as Wonder Woman begins to chew her lips, pant and waver in place.

“Yeah, there she goes. Gettin’ into the rhythm, aren’t you, cunt?”

“Shut up, dork. I’m trying to concentrate here,” Diana snaps, raising her head to look at him now as she plunges her fingers back and forth into her juicy opening with manic determination. Her eyes, after staring darts at him suddenly lose focus though. The lids droop a bit as if weighted down. She is nearing her climax. Two fingers of one hand plunge in and out of the lower edge of the assaulted pussy as the fingers on her other hand twiddle away at her clit.

“...uuhhnnnn....” Wonder Woman moans as she applies herself completely to her task. Her knees are slightly bent, her upper torso is lowered horizontally now with her head down and her dark hair obscuring her face. The massive naked breasts sway and swing in place as the fevered beauty works herself into to a sexual lather. Drizzling rivulets of her shining juices edge down her thighs as Wonder Woman’s moans turn to sighs and whimpers. Her hands are a blur in her crotch and the tiara on her head falls off onto the carpet. Wonder Woman freezes in places and groans out the helpless yawning crescendo of her need.

“GGHHHUUUUUUUUUNNNNHHHHH!”

A spritzing spray of cum mists the air between her thighs as the dazed champion peaks in place, her fingers sopping wet and dripping with her pleasure. Dark spots show on the carpet as the hoped for deluge of Wonder Woman’s cum drains down her thighs and collects inside her boots. She sways weakly in place, her head lowered to mid-thigh height as she tries not to pitch forward onto her face. She’s only half successful and goes down on her knees and then to all fours, moaning and panting there before Carlo and the cameras.

“....ohhhhhhhhh......” She’d put far too much of herself into this display and she realizes it. Carlo would have been satisfied with an hors d’oeuvre of just a small jerk and lip quiver. Instead she gave him the full course dinner, including the soup course. Dazedly, she collects herself and stands up, her tits still naked and her pussy showing as the crotch of her panties hasn’t snapped back into place.

“Nice! Very nice.” Carlo tucks the small leather case under his chin and applauds the demonstration of complete debasement he’d been thrilled to receive. After six resounding slaps of his hands together, he tosses the case to Wonder Woman who fumbles the catch and drops it onto the carpet. She bends down to hastily pick it up and her tits droop below her like a dairy cow at milking time. Carlo is beaming at the sight and when the distracted Amazon finally straightens up and gathers her wits about her, she frowns at her exposed state. She pulls her costume together, running her damp fingers inside the crotch and straightening out that fabric and then pulling up her bustier so it covers her tits.

Without a word, Wonder Woman walks over, sits down on the couch and unzips the case to prepare herself for the desperately needed shot of heroin. Carlo takes a seat in the armchair four feet away and just watches her as she goes about her business with the kit. This ought to be interesting to see.
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Abductorenmadrid
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Posts: 1376
Joined: 11 years ago
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On the one hand you have the delicate 'political' manouvering by Tony (he knows how to crisis manage!) and on the other the twisting of the poor heroes on the double edged knife of blackmail and dependency, something for everyone!
My avatar courtesy of https://www.deviantart.com/sleepy-comics

My current story is Supergirl V Bane


This is all the stuff I've done here but don't tell anyone about this!
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DrDominator9
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Posts: 2453
Joined: 13 years ago
Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone

The Big Meet
Part 71-A



Across the street from inside his parked Buick, Angelo watches the man in the waiter’s uniform spray the sidewalk in front of the restaurant Anatra! The force of the water from the hose that the man swings back and forth pushes the litter, dust and debris into the gutter. Five minutes later, after he’s done sweeping the paper cups and cigarette butts into the dustpan and dumping it in the nearby barrel, the waiter tucks the dustpan under his armpit and kicks a doorstop under the front door to prop it open and let fresh air into the restaurant. He then disappears inside, dragging the barrel back with him to the storeroom in the back.

Angelo gets out of his car and walks across the street toward the open door. The light weight of the Glock 27 tucked into the middle of his back doesn’t make him nervous, just cautious. The piece was one of the best concealed carry guns on the market, featuring a buff black finish and compact size. It packed a good punch, yet not so much recoil that follow-up shots would be off-target. It wasn’t a pretty piece but it would certainly get the job done.

Angelo is one of Don Lupenzo’s most trusted soldiers and a Queens resident who lives just a five-minute drive away from the newly-opened restaurant. He calmly walks into the vacant restaurant ignoring the “Closed” sign in the window that has yet to be turned around by anyone on the staff. They’re still getting ready for their 5:30 pm opening. The new restaurant did not serve lunch. It focused on a busy dinner crowd and had all its tables booked from 6:30 pm until 10:00 pm. The entire place was reserved for a private party by phone just two hours ago for 5:30 to 6:30. Hearing who reserved it, the owner had immediately okayed closing his place for just the one reservation and then placed a conciliatory call to the one reservation made for 5:30 pm by an older couple who liked to beat the heavier dinner rush. Sincere apologies, a guaranteed special window table at 6:30 pm, a free entree and a complimentary bottle of fine champagne had finally mollified the testy patrons.

Walking up to the bar, Angelo sees a bartender slicing limes for his garnishment tray. The beefy six-footer in a fresh apron looks up from his cutting board to see an equally tall young Italian male with an anguished expression on his face, who’s bouncing from foot to foot.

“I’m sorry to bother you and I know you guys are not open yet but to be brutally frank, I gotta take a huge leak, buddy. You gotta restroom I can use? I’m desperate here.”

Eyeing the distraught man in decent clothes, the bartender sees he’s no bum but just a guy with a full bladder. “Yeah, I guess so,” he gestures down the bar to a small hallway, “Second door on your left,” he says and goes back to his limes.

“You’re a life saver. I’ll be quick as I can.” Angelo makes a dash for the hallway.

Inside the bathroom, Angelo’s desperate need to pee vanishes as he eyeballs the two stalls and two urinals. There’s an old fashioned radiator against the wall to his right next to the first stall. He considers hiding the gun there but fears that it would be too easily found. He thinks about taping the gun to the underside of the top of the toilet tank but that would be too obvious as well. He then notices the little vanity between the two sinks on the wall to his left and walks over to it. He opens the double doors below the counter between the sinks and finds a deep space filled with extra rolls of toilet paper, bundled paper towels and cleaning supplies. There is a drawer above the space and he pulls this out. The track the drawer slides on is smooth and effortless. Liquid soap refills and a first aid kit roll forward.

“Hmmm.” Quickly unlatching the stoppers that prevent the drawer from sliding out completely, Angelo slides the drawer forward off its track and sets it on the counter. Working swiftly he tapes the small Glock to the back of the drawer with the small roll of duct tape he’d brought and then slides the drawer back in place. With the gun being so light even with its clip of bullets, the drawer stills slides easily back and forth. Angelo smiles and straightens up. He flushes the urinal for realism and walks out of the bathroom.

“Thanks, man, I was about to bust,” Angelo calls as waves and heads for the front door.

“No problem,” replies the bartender who’s moved on to slicing oranges into chunky crescents for those who liked them in their Belgian white beers.

Back in his car, Angelo reports to Basso about where to find the hidden piece in the men’s bathroom. Basso is pleased and is certain that Don Gino will be as well. He commends Angelo on his work and then fills him in on an easy tractor trailer heist he can be part of that could pull in over a quarter of a million dollars for the four man crew. Now Angelo is pleased.


* * *


Wonder Woman sits on the front edge of the plush U-shaped sectional couch in the penthouse’s living room. She is dressed in her full costume. Her real tiara adorns her thick black hair, lending her a genuinely regal air. Her famous red and gold bustier shows off her deep cleavage and generous breasts to a fault, the rounded shapes barely contained by the fabric. While she wears a wide, shiny gold belt, it only looks like her waist-hugging Girdle of Power. Unfortunately for her, it is nothing but a phony substitute just for appearances. Her blue briefs scattered with bold white stars cling to her body as if painted on and they accent her hips beautifully. Right now, the bright red and white boots are set wide apart and with her thighs spread, her crotch is right in view of Carlo’s line of sight.

The world-renowned beauty hardly looks regal though, despite her jeweled princess’ tiara gleaming in the light. Right now, the mighty defender of right is too concerned with getting high on heroin. She’s holding a disposable lighter under a bent metal spoon that contains a fingernail’s worth of fine white powder and several drops of water. Heating the solution isn’t strictly necessary since Tony’s stuff is prime grade, but a warmer solution is less painful than a cold injection. That’s just the way the Amazon has come to enjoy her heroin hits now.

She gently shakes the spoon to mix the dope and keeps a close eye on the level of the mixture. She doesn’t want it to boil and she doesn’t want to lose any of the potent cocktail. When it is mixed and warmed sufficiently, the highly-focused beauty puts down the lighter and pulls the syringe with it’s sterilized needle out of its plastic compartment within the leather case. Carefully drawing all of the pale white liquid into the syringe, she then holds the needle point up and sets down the empty spoon.

Taking up a length of pale brown rubber tubing she’s laid on the coffee table, the famous Amazon warrior drapes it over her left arm and loops it into a miniature lasso of sorts. Obviously Wonder Woman is very familiar with the use of lassos, having snared countless villains with her golden rope, and the irony is not lost on the highly-focused addict that her remarkable rope skills have played a role in dragging her face-down into life’s gutter. That’s just one of the many truths she’s trying to block out with the drugs: thus ensuring as undeniable a circle of hopelessness as any lasso loop she’s ever used to capture any prey.

Pulling the circle of rubber tight to her arm, she blocks off her circulation slightly and then continues her drug regimen. Tapping the barrel of the syringe, Wonder Woman disperses the tiny bubbles she sees and gently pushes the plunger to drive out all the air and the tiniest possible drop of dope to ensure a safe injection. She doesn’t want to waste one iota of the dreamy liquid in the barrel of the syringe held up before her wildly greedy bloodshot blue eyes.

Grabbing the rubber hose in her bared teeth like a desperate animal, the trembling beauty jerks her head to the right and pulls the rubber tubing much tighter to her skin now. Her veins bulge in her forearm and the once famed paragon of purity searches quickly for a site in which to inject herself. In one hand she holds the syringe while the other taps at her arm to raise a vein. She’s so close to that feeling of perfect joy that the anticipation is making her tremble.

The sprinkling of needle tracks on her arms shocks the closely-attentive Carlo. There are three or four brownish dots scattered on her left arm along with some light purplish bruising running down the length of one of her veins. Her other arm is equally bruised.

“Wow, Princess, you’ve been busy lately. Do you have a secret stash somewhere in your room?”

“What? No Thazz rediculuz,” answers the Amazon through teeth clinging tightly to the rubber tie-off hose. “No, ‘courz not. NO! Why’d ju even tink dat? S’not true.”

“Uh huh,” Carlo replies in obvious disbelief. He has good reason to know she’s lying. The truth is, over the course of the past month, Carlo has been tasked by Tony to oversee a regimen of both power infusion and power diffusion as conditions required with both Wonder Woman and Supergirl. On a regular basis, both heroines had been secretly gassed in their bedroom with a powerful colorless and odorless sleeping agent introduced into their air conditioning system.

Because the drug was strong enough to render them completely unconscious for hours at a time, Carlo would arrive in their bedroom via a secret panel in the closet and have all the time he needed to do his work. When necessary, power infusion sessions would be held. This included strapping on Wonder Woman’s original Girdle of Power in her case or bringing in powerful solar lamps for Supergirl. Such sessions would exorcize some of the deeper side effects of their drug use without mitigating their psychological addictions. Thus, nasty needle tracks on Wonder Woman’s forearms were reduced to the size of barely noticeable freckles. In Supergirl’s case, the aggressively paranoid behavior and respiratory dysfunction that are some of the symptoms of crack addiction became merely occasional irritability and a rare wheezing from Supergirl only when she was under tremendous stress.

A separate regimen was called for if the Maid of Steel began regaining too much of her super powers. A night time introduction of a small butt plug employing carefully adjusted doses of kryptonite radiation reliably drained her down to much more manageable physical levels. When she thought she had full super powers, in reality it was only a fraction of her full abilities. In her mental condition at this point, she really couldn’t tell.

So, when Wonder Woman shakes her head in denial, Carlo knows she’s lying through her bared, hose-clutching teeth. The bitch had been carefully belted just two nights ago. Those six or seven nasty brown needle marks on her arms had to be quite recent.

The pointless head shaking by the phonily indignant heroine as she tries to prove her point causes the ugly brown tubing to tighten down painfully. Wonder Woman winces at this stupid mistake of hers but then she sees a clean site on a bulging vein that will work fine. Ignoring the short annoying man, the one-time role model of millions shows off a disturbingly manic smile as she puts the point of the needle to her forearm and pushes it into the vein, causing a small spot of blood to ooze out. Totally focused, she presses the plunger on the syringe and fills her bloodstream with the mind-numbing, soul-stealing liquid she so desperately craves. Releasing her strong-jawed grip on the hose, it snaps off her arm and drops to the floor, giving her vein the go-ahead to surge with the poison she’s injected into it.

Carlo watches with rapt attention as the renowned champion of justice and virtue placidly wavers there on the couch before him dazedly holding the syringe buried in her arm with an expression of pure cosmic delight.

Unknown to her, however, this is an extra-powerful form of heroin that the conniving videographer had substituted for Tony’s carefully measured milder vial. Her cosmic threshold of drugged pleasure is passed very quickly. The classic beauty’s face is filled with a sudden blankness and then a creased forehead and heavy frown. This is quickly followed by a stupefied eye roll up under her lids as if she’d been stunned like a cow in a packing plant. Wonder Woman tries to stand up, takes a very halting step forward and then drops to her knees four feet away from the couch. She’s only there for one wavering second before she falls face first into the carpet with her ass in the air.

At first, Carlo is scared shitless thinking the cunt is suffering from an overdose but when she moans happily with her face turned sideways so her cheek presses into the carpet, he relaxes a bit. The shapely buttocks and inviting expression of stupid lassitude on the Amazon’s half-buried face draw him forward out of the chair and the lip-chewing little thug stands up and circles around Wonder Woman until he’s standing behind the softly purring heroine with her rump raised to the heavens. He bends over and carefully pulls the needle out of her arm and puts it on the coffee table.

“Look at you, bitch,” the satisfied Italian says with a head shake. “Nothing but a dumb-struck fucking helpless junkie. Some paragon of justice you turned out to be. Now you’re a paragon of just ass.”

Carlo admires her wide rear end, two curved moons that stretch out her famous starred blue costume briefs to their limit. “Well, it didn’t take some rampaging all-powerful super villain to reduce you to a pathetic, mindless fuck toy, did it, Princess? No, you did this all to yourself, sweetheart,” gloats the grinning mobster poised over the oblivious champion. “You just served up your world- class cunt and deliciously-tight asshole on a silver platter to anybody who wanted it, you stupid cow. And now Carlo gets to fuck them both to his heart’s content. Just like I have on so many memorable occasions before, you naive skank.”

The leering hoodlum is recalling the many times he’s taken advantage of Wonder Woman as well as Supergirl during his nighttime power infusion and diffusion sessions with them. With Carlo’s expansive need to prove his dominance over the heroines, he regularly took liberties with them after they’d been gassed into their helplessly insensible states. He enjoyed fucking them in all their orifices over the course of the past month. His private collection of recordings showing them with wide white spreading puddles of his cum draining out from their exhausted assholes, leaky twats and slackened drooling mouths was his pride and joy.

Of course, they weren’t in costume for these night time sessions with Carlo but their faces were clearly recognizable in long shots, medium shots and close ups when Carlo would hold their limp heads up by their hair and belittle the unconscious beauties mercilessly. Plus, when edited together with introductory comments by Carlo along with their famous emblems on the opening establishing shot, it was quite clear who the female was that was being violated. And after his evening pleasures the cautious hoodlum always diligently cleaned out his victims orifices so there was no evidence of his foul behavior.

“Anyway, thank you,” Carlo tells the drooling stupefied Wonder Woman. “Now I think I’ll unwrap this lovely fat-ass gift of yours. Time’s a-wasting. Tony will probably be coming out here in about 30 minutes I’d guess after boning Supergirl, so let’s get to it.”

Carlo reaches down to where the fake gold belt covers the top of the blue panties. He reaches underneath and yanks up hard on the waistband of Wonder Woman’s briefs, pulling them roughly into her ass crack in a painful wedgie and drawing a grunt from the drooling heroine.

“Oops,” Carlo chuckles as he stares at the fabric pulled so tightly against the Amazon’s crotch that he can see her pussy lips clearly defined through the satiny blue material. “I guess this wrapping is on tighter than I thought. Maybe I’ll just push it aside instead, huh?”

After pulling out the wedgie, Carlo slides his fingertips under the right edge of the crotch in Wonder Woman’s panties and pulls the material widely off to the left exposing both her nether holes. Taking his slowly expanding dick out of his fly, the thug rubs his palm up and down it’s length a few times to bring himself to full stiffness. Below him, the drug-addled heroine wavers in place, tipped forward and resting on her knees. Her drooling mouth remains half-buried in the nap of the sea- foam-colored carpet. Her arms lie limply on both sides of her body, palms up. Her back is mostly exposed with just the wide back of her red bustier and her gold belt clinging to her waist. Her rear end, tightly sheathed in blue silk, is raised to the sky and she is blissfully unaware of her impending impalement despite the air flowing over her now exposed orifices.

Quickly squatting down behind Wonder Woman’s rear end, Carlo lines up his dick with her tightly-puckered anus. He pulls her right buttock to the right and smiles at the lack of reaction from the heroine below. His cock is hard and pulsing. All is ready.

“I hope you’re enjoying your heroin, heroine,” he says softly and then thrusts his hips forward with all his might. Wonder Woman’s body jerks forward, pushing the right side of her face deep into the carpet as Carlo’s thick six inches of rigid muscle drives all the way into her dry asshole.

“HUUNHH!”

The mighty Amazon grunts loudly at this but her brain is so inundated with pleasure from the heroin coursing through it that this dry cornholing of her ass quickly retreats to a distant sensation. Even when her body is rocked back and forth and her ass shakes and wobbles from the motions of the squatting man behind her, Wonder Woman remains bleary and fully content with the incredibly strong drug dampening all her reality to inconsequence.

Carlo leans over the rounded hump that was once the Champion of All Women and pumps away at her ass with total abandon, pushing and pulling his long engorged cock out of her rear again and again. The tightness of her ass cavity as he buries himself to his balls is unbelievably sensuous. It clutches the full length of his tool with warm delightful pressure on each and every stroke. The dark skin of his cock appears and disappears between the butt cheeks of the raven-haired Princess of Themyscira like some obscene magic act and still the fully-costumed Wonder Woman remains barely cognizant of his actions. All she feels is a growing sense of pleasure in her groin that’s flowing through her body. It’s beginning to match the lovely cloudiness in her mind.

Sensing the slight wetness of her crotch now, Carlo gathers some of it up from her pussy with a quick swipe of his right hand under the blue fabric. He rubs it around his shaft after he pulls everything but the fat mushroom tip of his rigid pole out of the Amazon’s balloon knot. He even drops a thick measure of saliva from his mouth onto his shaft and then pushes and pulls his dick only halfway into the murmuring beauty’s rear eight times in rapid succession, spreading the lubrication and drawing a pleased sigh from the face pushed into the carpet.

“Is the famous Wonder Woman enjoying her buttfucking?” Carlo asks this with mocking disdain as he goes back to full strokes of his penis in and out of the tight sphincter of his dazed prize. He repeats this maneuver over and over, hilting himself against her warm wobbling cheeks until there’s a stunted whisper from the floor beneath his thrusting hips.

“...huhhh....” murmurs the dazed female, unaware of how her famous costume and body are being so thoroughly violated at this moment.

“Never mind, skank,” Carlo says in a panting whisper near the back of her head now as he enjoys the sensation of his climax growing in his balls. “Just stay put and show the world how carelessly Wonder Woman throws away her virtue! This is being recorded after all.” Indeed, he programmed every camera in the suite’s living room to record the sessions he and Tony were having with the fallen heroines. Tony’s he’d later edit and present to him. This session with the Amazon he will retain for his files alone.

“...uhhh...sure...okay...” Wonder Woman finally answers as the pleasure in her body grows more insistent within her.

Carlo pumps away at the hunched groggy female. His chest rests against her curved back. The fabric of his own silk shirt rubs against the silky red material of her famous bustier and the smooth gold fabric of her false girdle while his dick pounds in and out of her butt crack with relentless vigor. Carlo’s hands clutch and release her wide and supple cheeks, squeezing and fondling them incessantly as he thrusts himself against her wide violated ass without a hint of complaint from the famous beauty..

Carlo’s pace is relentless now. His hips jerk back and forth as he crouches over his magnificent trophy and reams her tight sphincter with his cock. Still not completely satisfied with this position, his hands move from Wonder Woman’s ass to beneath her body, wrapping themselves around her suspended barely-contained breasts in her bustier.

Grasping the large rounded shapes in his palms, he lifts the upper body of the Amazon warrior until her slouching figure sags forward his arms. Her breasts are soft and squeezable as he presses their shapes into fat folds of pleasing warmth. Her hands dangle limply at her sides, her chin nods against her chest and her sweaty hair drapes like curtains over the front and sides of her face. He pumps away at her ass in a frenzy. His pelvis thrusts against her damp satin panties as his dick violates her rectum with piston-like repetition.

“Huh...huh...huh...huh...” Carlo is panting heavily now with every entry and retreat, every thrust and withdrawal, every rigid driving push into Wonder Woman’s asshole by his hungry, ass-seeking cock missile. Every bump of his pelvis against her butt cheeks makes the drugged woman’s head bounce up and down against her upper chest. She is a helpless, mindless, boneless figure as Carlo constantly and tirelessly humps away at her rear. Finally, he’s too close not to bring it to a finish.

“...always...a pleasure...to screw this ass....of yours...Wonder Woman...” gasps Carlo, teetering on the very brink of his joy. Taking his left hand off her tit, the sexual tyrant takes hold of a clump of the slouching beauty’s damp black hair and pulls her head up next to his own face, his mouth to her ear.

“...and to fill it...Princess...” he blurts with rough grunt. With a final grimace, his neck taut, Carlo finally gives himself over to his now insurmountable pleasure. His cock explodes in Wonder Woman’s ass with a thick rushing stream of his cum. Multiple jerks of his cock repeatedly send jets of his seed into the beauty’s rear cavity. His body freezes in place as the turgid pulsing dick pumps his full load into the slouching female champion, spraying her insides with his uncontainable lust.

Wonder Woman’s face, revealed now as her head rests against Carlo’s shoulder and her hair is gripped in his fist, goes from a slack, inattentive drooling stupor to a slightly more aware eye-fluttering consciousness. She sighs slightly in a little swirl of pleasure and her mouth twists into a smirk of tiny joy. But still the unrelenting power of the heroin holds sway in her mind and the brief glimpse of her excitement settles down once again to a slack jawed, tongue-draping confusion. Her eyes drift shut with a small grunt and Carlo lets her body tip forward again, back into it’s original hunched over position on the carpet.

He just rests there on her curved frame for a full minute, panting, moaning, sighing and savoring the warm afterglow of having fucked Wonder Woman’s ass while she was in her famous costume...and done it to his heart’s content. When he pulls out of her rear, Carlo sees the thin white batter of his pleasure drain out of the oblivious heroine’s butthole in a syrupy stream for a good seven seconds. He beams with delight at this vision of his conquest as it puddles in the carpet between her knees.

“Not quite the mighty defender of decency now, are you, Wonder Woman? Yeah, even you, Princess, can be butt-fucked.” Carlo eyes the last dripping remains of his cum as it dribbles from between the ass-raped heroine’s cheeks to the carpet below. He zips up his fly with satisfied finality.

When Tony comes out of the bedroom ten minutes later, Carlo is thoughtfully brushing the sweat-dampened hair off of the Amazon warrior’s slack face as he kneels next to her body laid out on her side on the couch. He’s cooing and stroking her face with all the attentiveness of a concerned lover. It was unlikely, after all was said and done, that he would have had time to fuck anything but her ass but Carlo is still very satisfied with himself. He had cleaned up her ass and soaked up all his jizz from the carpet with heaps of paper towels now buried in the kitchen trash can. If Tony asked about the wet spot on the carpet, Carlo would say the drugged Diana had spilled a drink or something.

“Everything okay out here?” Tony saunters into the livingroom, heading for the elevator. He’s pretty blissed out with the delightful sexual favors that a horny, crack-infused Supergirl provided him behind closed doors. She’d given him a world-class teasingly erotic 15 minute blowjob then followed that with an ankle-grabbing pussy packing session for the young don. On her back with her legs in the air and her shiny red boots held tight in his grip, Supergirl’s eager body, dampened just enough by kryptonite, had given Tony a climax he would never forget. The session had lit up Tony’s brain like a personal new record on a pinball machine. He hosed her insides for what seemed like forever.

The smiling man, barely able to walk straight, was numb from it all and he was going to his suite to catch a quick hour nap. Supergirl was already snoring in the bedroom herself, now face down with her famous skirt bunched up around her waist, her red panties pulled down around her thighs, her cute rump exposed and Tony’s cum drizzling out of her snatch.

“Everything is fine, Tony. Diana is just lying here enjoying her high. She wanted me to sing ‘Hush Little Baby’ to her so that’s what I’m doing.”

“Good man. Uhhh....see that she is ready for her john in ‘bout 90 minutes. Oh...and uh..make sure Supergirl is dressed and clean too. Both of them in their full clean costumes,” Tony says in a soft voice of a man who’s just had his clock cleaned. He wanders into the elevator and pushes the button for the floor below.

“Sure thing, Tony. I’ve got her covered,” Carlo calls out as the elevator doors slide closed. “Don’t I, sweetheart?”

“....huhhhh...?...yeah...i...guess...ya doo.....” Wonder Woman mumbles, starting to finally gain some mental function back.

“Hey, by the way, who are you getting your extra heroin from Wonder Woman?”

“....no...iz...a...secret....”

“Tell me or tell Sergei Your choice, champ. He won’t ask so nicely though.”

“...Marge...the maid,” Wonder Woman admits quickly.

“Large Marge? Really? She’s like, what, 250 pounds?”

“...yes...” nods the sulking champion knowing her extra heroin hits were now a thing of the past.

“What do you give her for the heroin and where does she get it?”

“...sexual favors...swiped two bags off a shipment....on Tony’s desk while he went to the bathroom...” Wonder Woman’s eyes are still dopey and half-lidded as she rests on the couch with Carlo casually stroking her forehead with his palm. He loved touching and caressing the powerful Amazon when she was in this dopey and restful condition.

“You have to eat Large Marge’s pussy to get extra heroin?”

“...yeah...”

“Phew. Gross! You really are an addict, aren’t you?”

“...yes....I am...”

Carlo looks at the pretty visage before him and considers giving the Amazon a face fucking but decides it’s too risky. He’s enjoyed himself enough for now. He stands up and goes back to sit in the arm chair across from the couch. Picking up the Cosmopolitan magazine on the coffee table, he reads one of the cover lines. “Hey, look! ‘10 Naughty Ways to Please Your Man.’ Let’s see if we made it to number one, Princess.” Carlo chuckles and begins flipping through the pages to find the article.


* * *


At 3:45 that Saturday afternoon, rested and ready, Carmine and Tony meet once again in Tony’s suite. Both sit in their customary places, Tony on the couch with Carmine in the armchair. Right now they are only sipping ginger ale from their glasses since both intend to stay away from hard liquor and to remain sharp for the evening ahead.

“I just got a call before you came in, Don Lugese has already landed and is on his way from LaGuardia now. He’ll be here in about 10 minutes,” Tony tells Carmine.

It’ll be nice to see him again,” Carmine says. “Randy’s done damn well for himself in just eight months out there in L.A. Hard to believe it’s only been that long. Seems like ages ago.”

“Well, he’s no don yet, that’s just an act for tonight, but he’s become quite an earner for Rebozo’s family out there,” Tony reveals. “He’s already charmed and forced his way into three huge hauling contracts out there for them. They couldn’t be more pleased.”

“Really? Good for him. So, he knows what to do tonight?”

“Yeah, I filled him in. He wishes he was escorting Supergirl tonight, of course. He’s still got a soft spot for the little tease from his training time with her.”

“Understandable,” Carmine says. “She IS a world-class piece of ass and she’s talented with it at that.”

“Not to mention her cunt and her mouth. She had me hard as a railroad spike this afternoon. I nailed her like I was joining up the transcontinental railroad, let me tell you.”

“Talk about job perks. Who’s babysitting her and the Amazon now, Carlo?”

“Yup,” Tony nods. “The kid’s okay with them from what I can tell. Nice enough, but he’s no Stephano. I sure miss that kid.”

“Yeah, me too. Stevie was smart and resourceful as hell. It’s a fuckin’ shame that Gino’s guys hit him like that.”

“Gino will pay, Carmine.”

“Yeah, well, keep your cool tonight, Tony. There are a lot of balls in the air to juggle.”

“I know it,” Tony replies and takes a long gulp of his soda.

Five minutes later, the phone rings announcing the arrival of Don Lugese at the entrance to the Pleasure Dome. Two minutes after that, the stocky bearded Italian mobster is shaking hands and clapping the backs of Tony and Carmine.

“How was the flight?”

“Aces, and thanks for the limo pickup.”

“No problem. You want something from the bar,” Tony asks waving at the open liquor cabinet in the wall unit.

“What are you guys drinking?”

“Ginger ale,” Carmine says. “Keepin’ our heads clear for the night.”

“Guess I should too. Give me a glass of that then.”

Carmine does the honors, pouring a full tumbler of Canada Dry over ice for him. Randy sips it and the three of them sit down to talk.

“So, you really going to do this tonight, Tony?” Randy’s eyes search out Tony’s for verification.

“Things are very hot right now, Randy. I’m too hot,” Tony declares, then sips his drink. “This way, things cool off. It’ll take off the public pressure. I made enough money with this thing. It’s time to bring it to an end.”

“I’m sure Wonder Woman will be pleased to get out. What about Supergirl?” Randy’s concern is palpable. Even after being away from her for over seven months, it’s obvious to Tony that he’s still carrying a torch for her. She had that kind of affect on men. And her time with Randy was before she’d developed her full range of sexual talents. If Randy spent a day with her like Tony had today, the man would be nothing more than her little pull toy, the young don thinks to himself.

“I’m not exactly sure how Supergirl’s night will end, to be honest. But I wouldn’t worry, boy. She can take care of herself.” Tony is playing his cards close to the vest. No sense letting the love-struck young man know everything. There was no need and it was safer all around.

Randy just nods, a bit glum at this answer. Tony sees this and puts his drink down on the table before grabbing Randy by both shoulders.

“Look at me, Randy. I need you sharp and focused and on task tonight. You have to make this look real. It has to be convincing. You are a big shot, Don Leo Lugese from the West Coast. Wonder Woman is your reward. You’re going to fuck her brains out before you go away for a five-year stretch in Pelican Bay, one of the nastiest federal prisons in California. Hell, in the whole U.S.”

Tony grips Randy’s shoulders and stares into his eyes. “Now, are you ready to do this tonight because your dramatic role starts in about ten minutes upstairs in the penthouse. I’m counting on you, boy.”

Randy returns Tony’s eyeballing of him with a solid nod and a strong reply as he drops into character. “Bring it on. I was born to play this role. Where is this so-called Champion of All Twats?”

Tony’s eyebrows hike up as do Carmine’s. Randy had disappeared and a very self-important Don Lugese stood before them.

“She’s upstairs,” Tony replies. “But wait here a bit longer. Carmine, meet me out front downstairs in the Navigator. You’re driving to wherever this restaurant is. That phone call from Baldini should be coming in shortly.” Tony looks back at Randy, telling him, “I’ve got to get Supergirl out of the Penthouse first. She’ll recognize you on the spot and we can’t have that.”

“Super Snatch? Sure, drag her out by the hair for all I care,” the beefy man says, maintaining his new persona. “Just let me at that Amazon poon tang. If I’m goin’ up for five years, I’m goin’ up her cunt so hard I still be able to feel her juices on my cock when I’m three years into my stretch in Pelican.”

Carmine and Tony both chuckle and shake their heads as Tony heads for the elevator in his suite. “This kid really ought to be in the movies,” Carmine declares. “He’s fucking great.”


* * *


Sergei sits in one of the overstuffed armchairs in the small sitting area of his room. One leg rests on the floor and the other dangles over the arm. While it’s not nearly as spacious as the penthouse room or Tony’s or even Carmine’s suite, this room is still very nice by anyone’s standards.

The tall Russian, still with his hair still colored black for disguise purposes, is quietly pulling the flat of the blade of his favorite knife against a dark gray sharpening stone. With the stone in his left hand, his right holds a very old-looking knife with a worn beige horn handle and a six-inch blade featuring Cyrillic writing engraved on it. Back and forth he sharpens the steel edge for minutes on end, not even watching it but merely letting his head sink into the thick cushion behind him as he draws the knife back and forth against the stone. His eyes are closed and he’s humming some ancient Russian lullaby. He is remembering the story his mother told him of how some Arab came in her home one night with theft on his mind until he saw her beautiful full-chested 27-year old figure and her rare blonde hair. Then his intentions changed. And when he came at her with a threatening wave of his knife and a promise of rape, his intentions changed again. He wanted to escape the fury she’d unleashed upon him. Kicking him in his balls without warning and beating him to his knees with a wooden bucket and then taking the knife from him, he was defeated before he knew what had happened. And when the knife cut his throat, the Arab fell onto the crude dirt floor and filled it with his blood. From that time until she bequeathed it to her son on her death bed, Sergei’s mother was never without her Arabic blade. And now, with her knife back in his possession, her only son is content.


* * *


When the elevator doors slide open at the penthouse level, Tony is greeted by pandemonium. Carlo, while not foolishly putting himself in the middle of an empowered Supergirl and Wonder Woman in their full costumes, is, nevertheless, rushing from one to the other exhorting them to behave like the superheroines they’re supposed to be. In the furor, none of them has heard the elevator arrive.

“Come on, Supergirl,” Carlo implores the furious blonde, “I’m sure that Wonder Woman didn’t really mean you’d fuck EVERY person in Grand Central Station.”

“Everyone up to and including the shoe shine men,” Diana affirms with her hands on her hips and a imperial toss of her head.

“Of course, you’d know them from your daily rounds there, you two-dollar whore.” Kara flips the Amazon the finger.

“Come on, ladies! Tony’s going to be here any moment,” the exasperated Italian interjects, “and I’m sure he doesn’t want to see this.”

“NO,” Tony shouts out and then says with quiet anger, “he certainly doesn’t. I don’t have time for this bullshit!”

The two women stop glaring at each other and turn their heads toward the stern-faced mob boss. Supergirl quickly brushes past Carlo and sidles up to Tony with a sexy shake of her tits and ass as she puts his arm through his and snuggles up to his tall frame.

“I’m all ready to go to the big meeting, Tony, while Wonder Cunt here ‘entertains’ that big-shot mob boss tonight.” Kara’s one-handed air quotes on the word ‘entertains’ has Diana’s jaw locking tight with tension, her nostrils flaring.

“He chose me to stay here because I can carry on a conversation about something other than Sponge Bob Square Pants, you blonde bimbo.”

“Oh, do you plan on talking about ancient Greek culture with his dick shoved in your mouth, Princess?” Supergirl makes the obscene gesture of stroking a cock while her tongue repetitively pushes out her cheek.

“Enough, you two! Kara, go inside the elevator and put it on hold,” Tony commands. “Diana, come with me.” He drags the Amazon toward the kitchen with a grip on her Feminum bracelet. “Carlo, go make sure the video equipment is all set in the control room.”

The videographer heads toward the bedroom where most of the action will be taking place in front of the cameras positioned there. Wonder Woman turns her head to look back at him with a scowl and then a flash of confusion as Tony pulls her body forward into the kitchen area.

Swinging the petulant beauty into a near spin, Tony presses his hips against her own, pinning the shapely woman’s blue and white clad rear end against the counter as he grips her bare shoulders and goes in for a surprise kiss. Flustered, Wonder Woman feels Tony’s tongue slide inside her mouth. But enjoying the sensation and the attention, her left hand quickly reaches up to the back of his neck as her right palm smooths against the luxurious silk shirt he’s wearing. She returns his kiss with warm delight.

Kara watches from the elevator, fuming at Tony’s sudden passion for Diana. The man was fickle!

After a moment, the pair breaks off the lingering kiss and Tony whispers in Wonder Woman’s ear, “Don’t pay any attention to Supergirl, Diana. What you’re doing tonight is just as important to me as her role.” Saying that, one hand wraps around her waist while his other reaches up and gently squeezes her left breast within the cool smooth red silk bustier.

Wonder Woman presses herself closer to the man, feeling her nipple stiffen as he fondles her. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you saying that, Tony. I just...I just want you to be happy with me. I don’t....I don’t want to make any more trouble for you. I just want to be left alone and....and do what I’m told....and shoot up my heroin. I...don’t...want to be....hurt anymore... I hear Sergei is back.....please, Tony.... please don’t let him punish me.....not anymore...I’ll be good...I swear...”

Kara’s eyes widen with shock as her super hearing picks up the fact of Sergei’s return. This is more distressing than anything she’s heard or seen lately. Her mouth goes dry and she backs up against the rear wall of the elevator in a very defensive posture.

“I don’t think Sergei will be a concern after tonight, Diana,” Tony says softly, feeling the nipple press against his palm as he casually holds her breast. “He’s just here to collect a few belongings. He’s much too hot for me to let him hang around past this evening.”

“But he’ll be here tonight...at the Dome...here...?...while I’m here...uhhh...uhhhh...” Wonder Woman’s face drains of all its color as her hands come off of Tony and reach back to hold on to the counter as she steadies her trembling legs.

“Well, yes...” Tony says.

“Tony! I’ll do whatever your mob guy wants, I swear it!” Wonder Woman begins pleading with Tony, taking hold of his lapel in one hand and caressing his balls with the other in near panic. “If he wants five blow jobs in a row or for me to lick his ass or....or...or..to fuck me in the ass, that’s okay. I’ll do that! All that. I mean, I’m still a little sore from Carlo this afternoon, but that doesn’t matter....anything he wants....”

“Wait, wait! What?” Tony interrupts the babbling, frightened heroine. “Sore? From Carlo? What do you mean?” He takes Wonder Woman’s bare shoulders in hand once again and tilts his head, searching her eyes.

“Oh...oh, it’s nothing, Tony. I didn’t want to bother you. It’s...it’s nothing...forget it,” mumbles Diana.

“No, I want to hear about this. I need to hear...” Tony’s concern is cut off by his cell phone ringing. Perturbed by the interruption, Tony snatches the phone out of his jacket pocket. His anger dissipates when he sees the caller ID on his phone. It’s Don Baldini. The call had been automatically forwarded to his cell phone from the Pleasure Dome’s phone system the way he’d programmed it downstairs.

Holding up a finger high in the air to indicate silence is needed from one and all, Tony disengages from Wonder Woman’s embrace and turns away to answer the phone.

“Hello. Yes, Don Baldini Okay, I’ve heard of the place. Yes, I will see you in 30 minutes. I hope it can all be settled as well. I will do everything I can to make that happen. Thank you, I’ll see you then. Goodbye.”

“Where’s the meeting going to be, Tony?” Wonder Woman asks the tall mob boss as she leans back against the counter and crosses her arms just beneath her breasts, pushing them up and accenting the distracting cleavage even more. He’s transfixed for a moment by the view and then snaps out of it.

“That’s really none of your concern!” Tony barks, brushing her off with a wave of his hand. He then quickly dials Carmine’s cell number. He walks into the corner of the kitchen and covers his mouth, then whispers the name of the restaurant to the older don. Speaking in a normal voice, he then continues. “Yeah, get Mario over there and see if he can somehow slip a piece in there. It’s going to be tough. Baldini may already have security in place, but as you said, we have to try. I’ll be down with her in a three minutes and we’ll go,” Tony concludes and disconnects the call.

Carlo comes back into the suite from the secret panel in the closet leading to the control room and saunters into the living room. “Everything checks out, Don Bonano. We’re good to go for tonight,” he declares.

“Yeah, right. Fine,” replies the young don. His hands are on his hips thinking if he’s covered all the bases with the girls. Then he stops and looks at Carlo.

“I don’t know what sneaky crap has been going on between you and Wonder Woman, Carlo...”

“Don Bonano, I assure you....”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t have time for this now, but rest assured, Carlo, that we’re going to have a serious talk about it after I get back tonight.” The infuriated Don walks out of the kitchen and starts toward the elevator.

In the elevator, Supergirl makes a decision. She’d been listening with her super hearing to both ends of Tony’s two conversations. She knows the location and, putting her acrimony with Diana aside, she walks out of the elevator and draws a scowl from Tony as she passes him in the middle of the living room.

“Hey! Now where are YOU going?” The lovely blonde strides past the frowning don with her cape flowing behind her, her thighs flexing. The glimpse of her cute wiggling derriere tantalizes Carlo.

When that blonde tart comes back later, I’m going to gas her into sleepy submission and tap that ass whether she needs a power diffusion session or not.

“Just getting a bottle of water,” Supergirl answers, as she reaches into the refrigerator. I’m thirsty.”

“Well make it quick, Kara, we’ve got a deadline to keep,” snaps Tony.

“This fast enough?”

Tony is shocked to find Supergirl beside him in the elevator not even a full second after he growled at her. She is sipping her water, has her arm threaded through his and is giving him a sly wink. At super speed she had retrieved the water bottle, stood beside Wonder Woman and whispered the name Anatra! restaurant and its address in her ear and returned to her escort’s side before the refrigerator’s door had swung shut.

“Try not to wear out that twat of yours tonight, Diana,” Supergirl calls out. “You’re not nearly as young and tight as you used to be!” She gives a haughty toss of her blonde hair as the elevator doors slide shut.

The slightly confused Wonder Woman’s eyes go wide and she’s speechless as the opportunity for a response is lost in the whine of the descending elevator.

“Oh, don’t worry, Princess. Your ass still is plenty tight.” Carlo stands behind Wonder Woman, leering at her statuesque body clad in her famous costume that wraps her goods in such appealing splendor. The little tyrant is thrilled that Tony had so much on his plate this evening that he had no time for instant retribution. It gave Carlo time to come with a cover story for his boss, probably something about the Amazon trying to cover up her sneaking heroin on the side by offering him sex. That ought to work.

Wonder Woman turns and looks at Carlo like he’s an ugly specimen in glass jar. “Knock on my door when Don Lugese comes up, then disappear back under whatever rock you crawled out from, you disgusting bug. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

Not waiting for an answer, Diana heads there, her long shapely legs in their red and white boots striding with purpose, her fake lasso slapping lightly at her hips. She’s already pondering Supergirl’s actions and feeling her heart warm up toward the crafty Kryptonian. Both of them could be in for a long and dangerous night and she is deeply worried.

Shutting the door and sitting down on the bed, Diana contemplates the situation. Her hands wring together in her lap as she thinks. Sergei is in the building and that could be a disaster, plus she has to fuck this don who’s going away to prison and who knows how nasty that situation could be. And to top it all off, Tony had demanded she perform that strip tease in the Bang Bang Room late this evening in her full uniform. She had to peel off her costume and show her body to complete strangers!

Hera, how low she’d sunk in just half a year’s time. It hardly seemed possible. If that important don weren’t arriving in a couple of minutes, Wonder Woman would have loved to taken a final hit of the last of her secret stash of heroin. But she had to be on her toes tonight. She had to keep it together. For herself and for Kara.

Who knew what would happen with that naive young blonde at that restaurant tonight? There was no way they’d let a meta-human with her power levels be at that meeting without some sort of serious dampening system. Tony had kryptonite collars so that’s probably how they’d do it. But if she were restrained, why even bring her? A show of force, of contempt? It didn’t make a lot of sense to Diana. It felt like the blonde was just a pawn in this thing tonight. Could they be using Supergirl as a sacrificial lamb in some way? Was Kara’s very life at risk? Is that why she whispered the name of the restaurant and its address to her. Did Supergirl think she was going to be killed? Did Kara really have faith in Wonder Woman that she could somehow save her in some way? With how pathetic Diana felt right now, why on earth would Kara believe she had that kind of fortitude left in her?

And what the hell was Tony’s overall plan? Did he even have one or was he just shooting from the hip at this point, everything overwhelming him. He looked tense and unsure of himself and that was not like Tony.

Diana collapses back on the bed and looks up at the ceiling, her head pounding with tension, her lovely face reflecting her cycling emotions of despair, confusion and fear.

The sudden knock on the door jerks Wonder Woman’s head up from the mattress.

“Your lover boy is here, Wondie,” Carlo announces. “It’s show time!”
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Tony making plans, Gino making plans. This meeting was gonna go tits up from the start. They each want the others blood and know the other feels the same and are taking steps to make sure only one of them makes it out of that meeting in one piece if/when things pop off. Curious which one will come out on top and out schemes the other.

Sucks for Diana that the only moments of peace and blissful oblivion she gets are via the drugs that were forced on her by her captors. She escapes the torments of reality only to drag herself further down the road of addiction. All playing into Tony's hands and making his job easier. And now having to deal with Carlo is just one more kick to the gut for her in a long list of misfortunes. The guy is just so punchable lol. Even without there powers, either girl could kick his ass.

Ah well those 'regimen' reveals explain quite a bit now.

Has Marge appeared in this story before? been a minute, cant recall. Diana must have been desperate to go to town on her though.

Oh so Tony is actually going to release the girls, or at least Diana since Kara is his ace in the hole for the meeting and if things go south she might not make it out and is gonna have Randy be the one to spirit her away from the dome? The timeline does get a bit confusing because i could have sworn only a few or less chapters ago they were only into around the 3rd or starting the 4th month of there confinement and here it says Randy hasnt seen Kara for over 7 months? I could have missed something though.

Jesus Sergei loves that damn knife....starting to worry me that he even has it on him being so near to the girls. He already stabbed Kara in the past, so wouldn't put it past him to get a little stabby with Diana as a going away gift.

Wow girls still at each others throats lol. I say let em fight if there werent already plans for the evening. Tony is a snake, but ya got to hand it to him that even though both girls hate him, he can still get them to react to his touches. Even gets both of them to go to him for protection from Sergei despite the fact that nearly everything Sergei put them through was done on his orders. And jeez given how afraid both girls are of the Russian, even if they do get released, all any super villain they come up against has to do is mention the guys name and they will be quaking in there boots or getting the hell out of dodge. And Kara has some of her powers and is still afraid.

ooooh Carlo is in trouble. Hah was waiting for one of the girls to spill the beans on the slimeballs extra little liberties he has taken with them despite Tony's orders. Good on Kara for putting her beef with Diana aside and being smart by telling her the meeting location in the off chance she can slip away and come back her up. although may not be a full power but if she has enough to use her superspeed, then she really missed her window of opportunity to escape and take out Carlo and Tony along with the collar controls.

Wonder who's gonna make the first move at the meeting and i am very interested in how Scarlett(a fave) in particular deals with Kara. Not a whole lot of ways to slip Kryptonite into the meeting place i assume.
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DrDominator9
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At 4:40 p.m., wearing a Jets sweatshirt, gray sweat pants, matching ball cap and a snub-nosed .38 in an ankle holster, Mario casually walks up to the front of Anatra! and pretends to read the specials on the chalkboard leaning just inside the front window. Unfortunately he sees Don Baldini’s beefy Italian muscle is already there. He scopes out two guys in cheap dark suits that barely contain their bulk, both carrying guns judging by the obvious bulges. They were setting up a metal detector frame just inside the front door. Off to the side, directing them was Baldini himself. The detector wasn’t turned on yet. Mario opens the front door and steps in.

He waves at the bartender who doesn’t return the greeting but just continues to wash the glasses in the sudsy sink before him. Mario starts to walk toward the bar when a fat hand palms his chest and one of the muscle steps in front of him. He’s about 280 pounds of bad attitude and a haircut to match. A razor cut on the sides with wild tufts of brown hair strewn on top.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?”

“I was just going to try to make a reservation,” Mario looks up at the taller man.

“They’re full.”

“You don’t even know what night I want.”

“Still, they’re full. Beat it.” Bad Haircut pushes on his chest and this causes Mario to stumble backwards into the entryway.

“Hey! I just want to make a...Buddy!” Mario calls to the bartender. “Give me a break here, huh? You got anything available for next Wednesday?”

“You don’t speak English, Mr. Jet?” Mario finds himself hoisted off his feet by his sweatshirt and held against the door post of the entryway. “They’re full. I already told you that. Now do I have to toss you out on your head to make it clearer?”

“Rocco, not so rough,” Don Tomas Baldini interjects, walking over. “We’re getting set up for a private party and very busy. You understand. Come back again tomorrow and I’m sure the owner will be pleased to discuss it with you then. Or try phoning. People do.”

“But I...” Mario begins when Baldini opens the door and Rocco carries him out to the street and deposits him back down on the sidewalk. The big fellow tugs at the sweatshirt, straightening it and gives a very insincere smile.

“Go Jets!” He then walks inside turns and crosses his arms blocking the doorway. Through the glass the shark smile remains.

Mario shakes his head. No chance to hide the gun. Tony is not going to like this.


* * *

“What do you think, Ton? The Triboro to local streets or Willis Avenue Bridge down to the FDR South and then across the Queensboro Bridge to Hunter’s Point?”

“How the fuck should I know, Carmine? Listen to a goddam traffic report. I have to think of everything? Shit, it’s a Saturday night and every motherfucker in the world is going to be on the road. It’ll be a miracle if we get there in 30 minutes. Baldini didn’t account for traffic. We’re going to have to call him if we run late. I’m sure he’s already there setting up but that old fuck Gino is probably in the same boat we are.”

Carmine gives Tony a sidelong glance. He’d never seen the younger don so keyed up. He was usually very cool under fire. Such nervousness on Tony’s part bleeds over to Carmine and he’s not happy about it. His chest hurts and then he burps loudly. Embarrassed, the elder don apologizes but feels better. Then he turns on the all-news station on the radio, keeping the volume low as Tony turns around to face Supergirl sitting on the wide gray leather backseat of the expansive Lincoln SUV.

“Now listen, Kara. I’m not sure how all this is going to play out tonight but you’re there to try to keep Gino honest and a little intimidated.”

“I don’t know how intimidated he’ll be since the last time he saw me, he fucked me like a rubber blow-up doll. And, from what you told me in the elevator, I have to wear this kryptonite control collar the whole time.” Supergirl fingers the wide circle of lead-lined chrome steel, pulling at it despondently. “How’s that supposed to put the fear of God into him or anyone for that matter? Why am I even here, Tony?”

“Let’s just say you may well be my ace in the hole in all this.”

“Well, unless you’ve got some way to over-ride that remote you plan to hand over to this Baldini guy, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help.”

“Let me worry about that, Kara,” Tony says as he looks at the remote before putting it in his side jacket pocket.

“FDR southbound is pretty light, I’m going that way,” Carmine announces.

“Command-level thinking, Vega,” Tony blurts sarcastically. Then he’s the one to apologize. “Sorry, Carm. I’m just edgy. As you said, a lot of balls in the air tonight.”

“Forgeddaboutit!” Carmine’s use of the trite phrase that has become the stock impression of all mobsters brings the first smile to Tony’s face in hours. Seeing that, both Carmine and Supergirl feel a rush of relief and they both begin to chuckle and soon the three of them are laughing as they barrel down a surprisingly traffic-free FDR Drive.


* * *

Wonder Woman walks into the penthouse’s living room to find Carlo setting down a bottle of $600 single malt scotch. He hands a tumbler of it to a large, bearded gentleman with curly brown hair in a very expensive silk suit. He carried his weight well, looked as if he was in good shape and was even sort of handsome to Diana’s appraising eye. Well, that was a relief. She didn’t have to fuck another ugly guy. But then he opens his mouth.

“Well, there she is,” the large don says as he turns then pauses to take in the incredible beauty as she comes around the couch toward him, smiling broadly. She’s breathtaking with her impressive chest thrust out in that red and gold bustier, her swaying hips as she walks in those high-cut blue and white boner-generating briefs and those red and white fuck-me boots. Still, Randy has a role to play as Don Lugese so he continues in a deep voice as she comes to stand five feet away from him.“...the famous Champion of All Twats.”

Wonder Woman’s beaming smile disappears like an ice cube hit by a blowtorch.

“You ready to get it on tonight, Wonder Pussy? Cuz I got the meat and I’m ready with the motion, baby!” Randy captures the tall vision of loveliness by the waist in one arm as he hoists his scotch in the other and takes a healthy gulp from it. “Time to party,” he exults after drinking.

When Carlo sees the incredible disappointment at the don’s crude behavior stamp itself on the heroine’s face, his own lights up at her predicament.

“Well, I’ll just let you two lovebirds enjoy yourself. I’ve got some things to go see to,” he says as he heads toward the elevator. He’ll take it down one floor and then sneak around via the stairwell to the secret video control room one flight up nestled in the corner of the top floor of the Pleasure Dome building.

“Let’s you and me get better acquainted, Wonder Woman,” Don Lugese says as he directs the woman over to the couch. “We’re about the same height, so that should work out real nice when we go down on each other, eh?”

The princess of the Amazons blanches at the nastiness of his words and his atrocious assumption. But then, why wouldn’t he be talking like this. He was a crude son of a bitch but she was a bought and paid for commodity according to Tony. Her rate for the evening was a demeaning $863.00 she’d been told. She was appalled at the humiliatingly low price placed on her virtue.

“Yes, how convenient,” she replies with a sickly smile.

”Oh, say, you got a shorter name I can use or do you prefer Wondie or Princess or what?”

“Diana will do. I don’t exactly feel like...well a wonder right now.”

“Maybe not but you sure look it. Hell, lady, you got tits from here to tomorrow. Mind if I give ‘em a little squeeze?”

“Sure, why not. Help yourself,” Wonder Woman answers leaning into the low-life so he can cop a generous feel of hefty boob. With Sergei now in the building, Diana just couldn’t afford to upset this big galoot. He sets his glass down on the coffee table then goes to town, mauling her breast in his fat paw. He squeezes it hard then rolls it around and round like he’s working a lump of dough. Finally he pinches her nipple beneath the fabric a bit and then rolls it between his fingers to excite the button enough so it presses noticeably through the red fabric.

“Sensitive! I like that,” the large don says as he suddenly pulls down the top edge of the bustier. He tugs it down far enough that the fabric clumps beneath the fully-exposed left breast, pushing it higher so it’s a matter of simplicity itself to suck on the fat little brown nub in his face. “Mmmm. Your rack even smells good,” the don affirms between suckling little pulls at her bud. For a brief interlude, he stuffs his nose deep in her cleavage and breathes deeply. “That perfume musta cost you a pretty penny, huh?”

“At least $15 dollars a quart,” replies Diana with barely-disguised sarcasm. Her eyes roll as she tips her head back on the couch and lets this good-looking mobster go back to sucking away at her breast like a hungry toddler.

“Hey, you’re worth it, jugs,” he declares after a final tongue flick of her nub. He’s missed her sarcasm completely.

When he’s done with the one side, the preoccupied don roughly pulls down the other side of her bustier to expose Wonder Woman’s full chest and goes to work on her other tit. His fool-proof routine of playing baker man with her breasts followed by the nipple pinching repeats itself and Diana gives out a sigh of resignation at the complete lack of creativity in this moron. Of course, he interprets it as a sigh of contentment.

“I know. I’m good, right?”

“Very adept,” Wonder Woman says curtly.

“You got a real pretty neck, too. I’m gonna lick it.”

Play by play from a gorilla, how lucky can a girl get?

Wrapping one arm around her waist, his other reaches up around her back until his hand palms the back of her head. He firmly pulls Wonder Woman against his body and begins to lick her neck. She cringes for two reasons: the first because she’s fully repulsed by the man and the second because he was lucky enough to hit a ticklish spot on her neck that actually felt good.

“Take it easy, toots. Let Leo Lugese do the driving,” the thug says in a rough voice that sounds like he’s trying way too hard to be smooth. “I’ve been around the block a few times. Like you have, I’m sure. We both know what we’re doing, so let’s do it right...and together.”

“Sorry, it’s just that you hit a sensitive spot there.”

“Well, like I said, Deeana, I like sensitive. So, by all means, let’s explore that, shall we?”

“It’s Diana.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna play more with these titties while I go to work on your neck.”

The hand around her waist releases and moves up to caress her tit while his tongue slowly strokes up and down her neck, from the base of her throat to the bottom of her ear. In the control room, Carlo is zooming in on the despairing face of the famous Amazon as her body is being mauled by this big ape of a man. Then he pulls back to get a nice medium shot of both breasts now being worked over by the widely-roaming hand as the guy’s face buries into her neck and then nibbles at her ear.

He’s whispering into it now but it’s so faint that the audio, sophisticated as it is, can’t pick it up. Carlo thinks that’s a shame since he’s sure the guy’s lines are the priceless gems of an oafish boor. You had to know how to talk to women like he did. The only reason this lug was getting to round the bases with Wondie was because her night was bought and paid for by a family on the West Coast. Carmine had told him that even though the guy was getting Wonder Woman as a gift from some LA mob guys for taking the rap for a bank heist and going to prison, her going rate for a night like this was two-hundred and fifty grand.

That was a lot of scratch. And he’d fucked her for free on at least six occasions now. That was at least a million and half bucks of prime Amazon cunt and ass he’d sampled. He can’t help but smile at the thought. He sure wished he could do better on audio but it wasn’t going to happen. Tony would have to be happy with the sight of Wonder Woman getting felt up and fucked with very little sound. Carlo considers laying a music track under this part.

“Don’t make any sudden moves. Keep your face looking as disgusted as I’m sure it is,” Randy whispers. “I’m here to rescue you. We’re getting you out of this place tonight. You can be back on Paradise Island by the morning.”

With her face now in close up, Wonder Woman’s eyes fill with tears. They shine brightly as the drops fall down her cheeks in tiny rivulets of silver. Carlo mistakenly believes they stem from the overwhelming shame and helplessness of being so crudely used by this hulking pig. He couldn’t be more wrong. Diana thinks her long nightmare is about to come to an end. Barely daring to believe it, she tests the large don.

“You lying bastard,” she says loud enough to hear.

Following her lead, Randy blurts out. “No, it’s true, Princess. Every one told me you do it and I want it to happen tonight.”

Carlo leans forward in the control room, intrigued now.

“Let me tell you what else they say about you, Wonder Woman.” Again the big man grips her tightly by the head and waist and whispers in her ear once more.

“What the fuck,” Carlo growls. “What’s this prick saying to her?”

“Follow my cues, Wonder Woman. I need to start a fight with you to pull that little creep out of the control room so I can neutralize him. Ready?”

Pulling back from the big man’s grip, Wonder Woman sits with her legs pressed together and her ankles crossed as she puts one hand on his chest. Her other hand fans her face like some Southern belle.

“Well, they’re right about the first thing. I will do that,” the smirking woman says coquettishly. Then her face goes stern and she continues, “But that second thing, that’s never going to happen. I don’t care who you are or how important you’re supposed to be!”

Wonder Woman hops off the couch, pulls her bustier up to cover her naked breasts, then puts her hands on her hips, stalwart in her decision.

“I don’t really give a rat’s ass, lady, about the first thing. I got that little treat from my freshman prom date. It’s that other thing that really gets me goin’, bitch. And I say you’re mine for the night and you’re doin’ it!”

“Fuck you, buster! I have my pride. I am an Amazon princess. I won’t do it. You’ll have to kill me first. I draw the line here and now. At last!”

Carlo is deeply distraught. Things weren’t supposed to go like this. He’s wondering if he should continue recording this or go in and intervene. When the big man lurches forward to grasp the wrists of Wonder Woman and swing her off her feet in a full circle until he lets her go flying into the armchair, the short videographer puts all cameras on automatic, grabs a taser from a nearby shelf and heads to secret door in the bedroom closet.


* * *

Although the FDR Drive was fairly smooth sailing, the Queensboro Bridge turned out to be a traffic disaster, packed with cars barely inching forward. The clock on the dashboard now reads 5:40 p.m. and Carmine is searching for parking on the surface streets of Hunter’s Point, Queens. He can’t find anything though and an anxious Tony tells him to drop Supergirl and himself off in front of the restaurant and to pay for a spot in a parking lot they’d passed.

“But suppose we need to make a quick getaway?” Carmine raises his eyebrows.

“We’ll have to deal with it if it happens. Christ, Carmine we’re more than 40 minutes late. We were supposed to be here at five.”

“And we called and told Baldini and he seemed okay with it, Ton.”

“He said it but I don’t believe it. Just take a right at this corner and drop us at the place, will you, Carmine? Trust me.”

“Fine,” says Carmine, wrenching the wheel and then speeding down half a block before he pulls up to Anatra!” Tony and Supergirl get out of the big black SUV and it peels out with a squeal of rubber.

“Okay, Kara, just be cool. Don’t say much if you don’t have to. I’ll do most of the talking. You just try to look vengeful, imposing, skeptical. Some version of one of those expressions, all night, ‘kay?”

“I got it, Tony. How are you doing though?”

Taking a deep breath and then reaching for the door, Tony smiles at her. “Me, I’m doing fine.”

Kara gets her first chance to try out her skeptical face.

The moment they pass through the door, they are greeted by two of Don Baldini’s large muscle men.

“Good evening, Don Bonano. Miss,” the huge bald black man in the brown suit nods his head respectfully at each of them separately. “My name is Edward and this is Ricco. We will be conducting your search for concealed weapons this evening.” He says this as if he’s announcing the dinner specials. “Please step through the metal detector first.”

Tony steps through the 7-foot high detector and it beeps. He looks at Edward who passes him a square gray plastic tub and knowing the drill, Tony removes his watch and pen and places them in the tub along with the remote control to Supergirl’s collar. When he passes through the metal detector the second time, it remains silent. The passive-faced don replaces all his metal belongings on his person as Supergirl is tested.

“Miss,” Edward motions toward the frame. With nothing metal on her besides the control collar, Supergirl steps through. Of course the metal collar sets off the detector. The lovely teen gives a sheepish hunch of her shoulders and jokes, “What can I tell you, I’m not called the Maid of Steel for nothing.”

Ricco interjects, “We’ll cover her with the body search in a moment.” His wolfish smile wipes out the one on Supergirl’s face immediately. She gives him a cold glare, eyes the horrific haircut but says nothing.

Just then, Carmine pushes through the front door and he too is sent through the detector after he removes all the metal objects on his person. He’s clean and is allowed to put his watch back on and refill his pockets with assorted coins and keys.

“Gentlemen, hands against this wall, if you please, and assume the position,”says Edward, patting the painted white brick. After a full minute of a very personal groping, it’s determined that neither Tony or Carmine are carrying anything dangerous. The thin ceramic knives tucked into the hidden compartment in each of their belts get past the search and for that both men are relieved. When Tony had heard from Mario that the attempt to place the gun had not succeeded, it hadn’t surprised him. He was glad at least he had some kind of backup weapon. No doubt Carmine felt the same. When the younger don looks over at his mentor, he’s sees that he’s sweating.

“You okay, Carm?”

“Yeah, I just had to jog from the parking lot. I’m good.”

“Too bad you guys didn’t get here earlier,”calls out Don Lupenzo from the table where’s he’s sitting, “there was plenty of parking around five o’clock.”

This remark draws a chuckle from the hefty Basso, Baldini’s own muscle guy in a plain blue suit. Also sitting at the large round table was the sultry Scarlett O’Shea dressed in a figure-hugging red dress that advertised sex, and the elegant but frowning Don Baldini in a sharp black tweed suit that advertised money rather than sex. Three chairs were empty for the remaining threesome, with Supergirl the final member of their party still about to undergo the search process.

“Miss, if you would,” asks the polite Edward, indicating the brick wall where he wants her hands placed.

“I got this, Eddie,” says Rico. He steps past his frowning associate and behind Supergirl, then squats down His head is at eye level with her yellow belt as he begins his search of her body. Starting at her right boot, he squeezes it firmly, checking for any hidden objects. All he feels is her smooth firm calf muscle. “Lift your foot,” he commands and Kara bends her knee so he can tap her soles and heels and squeeze her ankle feeling for anything unusual. He finds nothing and efficiently repeats this with her other boot.

Moving his hands up, he smooths them around her right thigh, circling it and squeezing it until his hands move beneath her skirt. Smiling, Ricco palms her ass and fondles her crotch searching for any foreign objects. Nothing is there that shouldn’t be and everything is there that should. It’s all warm flesh but extremely firm to the touch. He gives it the hardest squeeze possible and it disappoints him that her body is barely pliable. It’s like trying to mold very old and dry clay; barely any give to it. Two of Ricco’s fingers slide inside the leg band of her panties and press into her pussy to test for possible weapons hidden inside her cavity. Even her snatch feels hard and unforgiving to his probing digits. This girl doesn’t feel like she’d be an easy fuck, that’s for sure. There’s nothing to be found inside her cunt but Ricco’s fingers linger an extra second, just one of them flicking at her clit that causes a jerk of Supergirl’s hips.

“Just being thorough,” Ricco announces to everyone watching. And he proves this by repeating the same intrusive process on her left thigh, left buttock and left side of her snatch. For good measure, he slides his hand back inside her panties and with a huge effort manages to press his thumb into her asshole. If Supergirl were at anything close to her full powers, he’d have broken his fingers trying to penetrate either of her holes. He rotates it in a circle for a good ten seconds and then announces, “Nothing down below.”

Everybody expected this search of Supergirl, of course, yet Tony can’t help but wonder if Scarlett O’Shea also had to endure such a humiliating assault on her body. He’d hoped so. Fair was fair. In fact, he looks directly at her, lifts an eyebrow, cocks a thumb at Supergirl and mouths, “You too?”

Grimly, Scarlett nods back that she too had been groped by the animal with the ugly haircut. Nevertheless, the redheaded beauty can’t help but enjoy the view of Supergirl’s athletic body being manhandled. At the moment, Ricco’s hands are all over her breasts, buried high up under her blouse. He roughly squeezes them yet finds the boobs barely yielding to his powerful hands. More disappointment for the big man even though she’s not wearing a bra. Everyone watches as his hands stretch and move under the famous insignia, distorting the iconic shield in a pointless search for weapons. The mighty heroine fumes silently as she submits to this gross indignity. Finally, with an unnecessary flick of her nipples with both hands on her breasts, Rico completes his body search of the blonde heroine, pulls his hands out from under her shirt and pronounces her clean.

Turning around, Supergirl whispers to the large hoodlum, “I hope you enjoyed that because I plan on finding you when this is all over and hurting you. A lot.”

Without batting an eye, Ricco points at Tony and says, “Show me how well her punishment collar works.”

Reluctantly, Tony takes the remote out of his pocket and says, “I’m sorry Supergirl, but it won’t last long.” Then he turns a knob on the flat black box slightly to the right. The sliding opening on the collar reveals a greenish glow from inside the lead-lined ring and Supergirl suddenly wavers in place and groans. Carmine steps forward and takes her elbow to help her remain on her feet.

“Satisfied?” Tony asks and goes to rotate the knob back to the left when Ricco grabs it out of the shocked don’s hands.

“No, I ain’t,” he says, turning the knob full to the right.

“Aaaarrgggghhhhh!” Supergirl cries out in agony and drops heavily out of Carmine’s insufficiently light grip. She falls to her knees and then onto her side into a fetal position on the wooden floor of the restaurant. “..owwww...stop it.....please....it hurts....owwww....please....no more....”

“What the fuck! Don Baldini,” Tony shouts over the crying blonde’s squeals, “this isn’t called for!”

“I disagree, Don Bonano,” the eldest don in the room calls back, loudly pronouncing his words over the din. “I’ve been informed by Don Lupenzo that this is a woman of virtually unlimited physical strength along with a remarkably devious nature. I merely have to be sure she can be controlled to my satisfaction.”

“...ohhhhhh....rao..i....i....feel..so....so...s...s...sick....” And with that, Supergirl vomits a pool of green-tinged bile on the floor by her face, then rolls onto her back with her arms akimbo, breathing heavily with dull bits of puke dripping from her lips.

“Excellent. I believe that will suffice, Ricco. Turn it off and bring the device to me.”

Ricco does as instructed but the mighty blonde champion remains splayed on her back with her eyes gripped shut and her chest heaving up and down in a rapid dog-like pant. Tony goes over to her, wipes her mouth with his handkerchief, smooths the hair off her forehead and pulls the grimacing teen to her feet. Barely able to walk, a wobbling Supergirl is led to one of the chairs around the table. Tony guides her down on it with a soothing voice.

“It’ll be okay in a few minutes, Kara. He’s shut your collar off now. Just rest here. You’ll feel better shortly.” He sit down in the chair next to her, just to Don Baldini’s right.

“...oh...k..kay....Tony....” Supergirl murmurs weakly.

Carmine glares at Don Baldini and then at Don Lupenzo as he takes a seat at the table next to Scarlett.

“I have to say, Don Baldini,” Carmine declares, “that this has been a most impolite beginning to this negotiation”

“Impolite but unavoidable, Don Vega,” asserts the old don with eyes like cold iron. “Just like the late arrival of your group I would point out. Still we will proceed as if everything were cordial and fresh now that the young heroine has been properly cautioned on just how she should behave, yes?”

With Supergirl slouching numbly in her chair and trying to gather her senses, Tony finally takes his seat between her and Basso.

“Yes, Don Baldini,” Tony answers. “I see your point and I apologize for our delay. Perhaps if we’d been given more notice beforehand...”

“Don Lupenzo and Ms O’Shea had the same amount of notice and they had no difficulty in arriving on time. Perhaps you should borrow their GPS devices next time.”

Gino grins from ear to ear while Tony looks uncomfortable under Baldini’s ridicule. Tony’s wondering just how Gino had gotten here so quickly. Was he tipped off beforehand or had he just camped out in some coffee shop nearer to Queens to be ready? There was no way to know. He just knew he was already dealing from a weakened position now.

“I shall consider that, but in the mean time,” Tony says, “there is much to discuss tonight and I look forward to bringing this trouble between Don Lupenzo and myself to an amicable conclusion.”

“As do I, Don Bonano, but before we start,” Don Baldini suggests, “may I propose that we order first. This will be a long and delicate process I suspect, and I for one am ravenous. The specialty of the house is duck, of course, and they serve it any number of delightful ways.”

Raising his hand, he beckons to the owner of the restaurant with a snap of his fingers. Instantly three waiters appear and begin distributing black leather-bound menus to the table.

Off to the side, a bus boy has already cleaned up the wide greenish pool that Supergirl had upchucked onto the floor.

Tony glances over at the wet spot the mop has left and frowns. Things weren’t going nearly as well as he’d hoped.


* * *

When Carlo comes rushing out from the secret panel in the bedroom closet, he dashes through the suite and into the living room. He had pocketed the taser on the way, hoping to surprise either the large rampaging don with it or the furious Amazon. He had to gauge the situation carefully. This Lugese guy was a big shot and Carlo didn’t want to make any moves that threatened his job with Tony. If push came to shove, he’d shock Wonder Woman with the taser and take his chances there. Hell, she got punished all the time.

Standing beside the large armchair that had been flipped on its back when Wonder Woman got thrown against it, the glaring heroine now stares over at Don Lugese with her hands held up and moving in slow circles, the palms vertical and fingers pressed tightly together.

“You have taken on an Amazon, Don Lugese. Not a smart move. Stand down and let us both take a more pleasurable route. You certainly did not come here to fight, did you?”
Don Lugese circles around the couch just as Carlo comes out from the hallway leading back to the bedroom. The videographer sees the confrontational poses of the two people before him and calls out in exasperation to Wonder Woman.

“Oh, come on Princess! You know you’ve already committed every sex act in the book. Just give him what he wants. How bad can it be?” Carlo then gives the don a shrug as he passes by him and says, “Women, what are ya’ gonna do, huh?”

He goes toward the Amazon as she circles to her left. Don Lugese makes a move to his right cutting her off. Now she has two men stalking her.

“I won’t agree to his filthy perverted needs. He needs a psychologist not a whore.”

“You could use a therapist yourself, Wonder Woman,” Don Lugese declares. “Your self-esteem clearly needs a boost.”

“What? What do you mean....oh...OH!” Distracted by the harsh truth of this, Wonder Woman doesn’t notice that Carlo has taken a device out of his pocket. Without warning he rushes up close to her and presses the button on the taser. Her remarkable reaction time even without her power belt saves her from a nasty shock as she moves to the side and the taser wires fly harmlessly past her hips.

From behind an astonished Carlo, Randy takes four quick strides and puts the gaping little Italian mobster in a choke hold that cuts off all his air. Pleased with how well he and Wonder Woman worked together to pull this off under impromptu conditions, Randy yanks Carlo backward onto his heels. The choking man’s arms wave in circles before he thinks to grip on the elbow and forearm to relieve the crushing pressure against his windpipe. It does no good. He is off balance and already seeing spots. He claws and punches desperately at the big man’s forearm for at least 40 seconds. It does no good and Carlo’s face shades over to a deep red. Suddenly, his hands drop limply to the sides and Randy squats down, following the body to the rug as the helpless tyrant is laid out on his back completely unconscious.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Wonder Woman asks, walking over to stand over the prone figure she’d come to despise.

“Nah, I just put him out for the count. He’ll wake up with a huge headache though.”

“Good then. The huger the better. The man’s an absolute pig! Oh, and speaking of pigs, you certainly seemed to enjoy your role. I don’t know who you really are but for a man who’s here to rescue me, you certainly have some very odd moves. I thought you’d never stop groping my tits.”

“Hey,” Randy grins, holding his palms up in a mea culpa. “I had to be convincing. But let’s get out of here while the getting’s good.” He takes a step toward the elevator but Wonder Woman remains where she is.

“I wish I knew where my real power girdle and lasso are stashed. I hate to leave here without them.”

“I think I have a good idea where they might be kept. Tony’s got a safe in his bedroom downstairs. We can go down one flight on our way out, grab a coat so you’re less conspicuous, and see if they’re there.” The two of them take a step toward the elevator.

“Don’t bother. You won’t get them. Certainly not if you have to go through me.”

Stopping in their tracks and turning around, Randy and Wonder Woman see Sergei Zhukovia standing in the hallway leading to the bedroom. His arms are crossed and he’s poised and ready to take them both on. Wonder Woman’s face goes white and she takes a halting step back with a nervous moan of despair.

“...ohh...nooo...” she murmurs.

Randy looks from her ashen face to the broad leer on the Russian’s face, and then back to her, not liking the tall black-haired Russian’s affect on the suddenly weak-kneed beauty at his side. What had this man done to Wonder Woman that she would be shaking like a leaf?

“Hello, Princess,” Sergei greets her. “I’ve missed you. Have you missed me?”


* * *

With the entrees ordered all around, the table is suddenly quiet now that the owner and his waiters have all left the room to give the party its privacy. Tony idly checks his watch, it’s 6:15.

Don Lupenzo opens the discussion with a wave of his hand and a pronouncement, “All this uproar and negative publicity caused by Don Bonano over the past eight months have been absolutely unnecessary. It’s all been nothing less than a greedy grab for power without discipline. It’s been bad for business.”

“Actually, I would contend that business has never been better,” Carmine responds before Tony can say a word. “Receivables over the past eight months have jumped markedly, my friends. Thanks to Don Bonano, the balance in the general fund has never been higher.”

“Bah, it’s a one-time surge due to those DVD sales,” Gino counters. “When they dwindle down, and they will, things will level out and we’ll still have a horrible profile thanks to Don Bonano’s heavy-handed approach.”

“If I may continue without further interruption, Don Baldini...” Carmine cocks an eyebrow at the mediator.

“Yes, certainly. Don Lupenzo, keep quiet until Don Vega finishes making his case. You’re impoliteness continues to grind at my nerves, Gino!”

“I...I am sorry, Don Baldini, I will....”

“You will shut up!” Baldini fixes his stare at Gino who clamps his mouth closed. A second later he opens it again to take a shaky sip of the wine that’s been poured in crystal goblets at everyone’s place setting. Tony gives a small smirk and also sips his wine, enjoying the bouquet of the $200 Pinot Noir.

“As I was saying,” Carmine continues, “It’s not just the balance of the general fund that has risen. I know for a fact, after making inquiries to families from Greenwich to Boston to Bangor, that the revenues of all the families throughout the entire northeast United States have significantly increased. With the absence of Supergirl, Wonder Woman and Superman from the picture, crime in all our most profitable categories is close to an all-time high.”

Carmine ticks off the categories by raising an individual finger with his pronouncement of each. “Prostitution, theft, embezzlement, drugs, gambling, whorehouses and forced slavery; they all have been going gang busters. Nature hates a vacuum, gentlemen and ladies.” Carmine gives a nod to Scarlett who nods back. His nod to Supergirl is barely acknowledged. She merely sits back in her chair with anything but an intimidating expression on her still stricken face.

“That vacuum, people,” Carmine goes on, “has been filled by an unprecedented surge in our stock in trade. In fact, I might even propose that any superheroes and heroines who protect the Midwest states and the West Coast should be similarly removed and see if we can set a new record in Mafia revenues.” Having finished his point, Carmine takes a drink from his water glass.

“What! Carmine, you can’t be serious!” Don Lupenzo jumps up from his chair and points at Carmine. “You’re supposed to be the reasonable one. But you’re as crazy as Tony. They’re both infected with this madness now. Don Baldini, you must see this!”

“Don Lupenzo!” Tomas Baldini is furious but his voice is low, measured and coldly sincere. “I will not warn you again about your decorum in this meeting! I will have you removed and grant Don Bonano whatever he seeks from the families if you continue to act as you have.”

Once again a very chastened Gino sits down and collects himself. As he does, Scarlett speaks up. “Ah know I’m not ah member of the family and thus have no say in these mattahs. I’m just here as a little old observer and to make sure that Supergirl over theah doesn’t step out of line.” She blows the distracted blonde two seats away a kiss that has the now fully cognizant heroine scowling back at the lady in red. “Howevah, if what Don Vega says is even half true, I think y’all should be thanking Tony, sorry, Don Bonano, not threatening him.” She closes with a smile at Tony directly across the table from her.

“What the..? You’re supposed to be on my team, you little...” Gino stops himself from using a disparaging term and gives the mediating don a very nervous glance. “What I mean is that, you have succinctly made your point, Ms. O’Shea.”

“You mean about thanking Don Bonano?” Scarlett gives Gino a sly smile.

“No,” Gino retorts, “about you not having anything to say about any of this. Just eat your meal when it comes and definitely keep your opinions to yourself!”

“Despite his extreme rudeness, Ms. O’Shea, I’m afraid that Don Lupenzo is correct. This is far from your bailiwick, my dear,” Don Baldini says with all cordiality. “I thank you for your effort to shed light on this issue but for now, please just sit there and simply look as lovely as you do while we men talk this through.”

“Certainly, sugah. I apologize for so clearly oversteppin’ mah position.”

“Think nothing of it, dear lady,” Don Baldini says, allowing for her regional mannerism to eclipse her lack of manners in how she refers to him. “Oh, excellent! Our meals have arrived.”


* * *

“Uuhhh. Sergei...uhhmm. You’re really b..back. I..uh...heard rumors b..but...” Wonder Woman stammers

“But you could not be believing your good fortune, Wonder Cunt. Have you been filling your thighs with anyone interesting since I left?”

Sergei takes two steps forward and the nervous beauty takes three back, her buttocks backing up against the railing dividing the living room from the kitchen. “Certainly not this steroid user. You could do no better? I guess Tony is running out of useful dicks to stuff up your snatch, Princess, if you’ve sunk down to him, da?”

“Hey, jerkwad,” Randy barks, “I’m standing right here.”

“For now. But not for so long I am to be thinking.”

“Yeah, bring it, you pathetic baby thrower! Yeah, I recognize you now. Brave man who throws little children around.”

“Again with the baby throwing. You Americans, so sentimental. Come for me, fat fuck. Let’s see how far I can throw you, eh?”

“Don Lugese, don’t do it,” Wonder Woman wails, grabbing Randy’s arm to hold him back. “Please! Don’t fight him. You don’t know what he’s capable of. He’ll kill you and then me.”

“Why would I want to be killing you, whore? You are solely for fucking. Ass, mouth, twat. You are buffet.”

Even Diana’s fear curls over into anger at this. Her eyes narrow at the tall Russian. Her spine stiffens and she turns her body into attack mode. But when Sergei takes out a beige horn-handled knife from his pocket and flips the blade out, the Amazon gulps audibly. Randy’s head swivels to the right at the sound. He sees Wonder Woman trembling lip as she fights between fear and anger and the fear is winning.

“Hey, It’s just a knife, Wonder Woman,” Randy says to her encouragingly. “You’ve got your bracelets and your warrior training. He’s just one man and it’s two of us.”

“He’s NOT just one man. He’s Sergei,” whines the shivering beauty. “He can’t be beat. I can’t defeat him. He’s too good, too crafty. Let’s give up.”

“Give up? You’re actually serious!” Randy gestures to the man still standing in the hallway. “We can take him!”

“No, you cannot. The bitch is correct,” Sergei says with complete confidence. “It is better for you to be giving up. Let us drink vodka and maybe we both fuck her, da? A better idea all around.”

“Do you believe the balls on this guy,” Randy says, astonished.

“Big. Huge set,” Sergei says with a winking grin. “Ask Wonder Mouth there, she has sucked on them plenty.”

“Him? You fucked him?” Randy asks, his eyes on Diana’s until she lowers her head.

“Of course I did. I HAD NO CHOICE! YOU CAN’T CONCEIVE OF WHAT HE PUT ME THROUGH! EVER! EVER!” Diana screams her anguish out, then suddenly she withdraws, sealing herself away emotionally. “So yeah, I fucked him. He fucked me. Whatever. I don’t know. It was...it was...”

“...Heaven!” Sergei interrupts.

“Inevitable,” Wonder Woman counters, her expression numb, her voice quiet.

“Well, it was heaven from where I stood,” Sergei contends, “which, by the way, was behind her with that fantastic ass of hers to be pumping away, pushing against me so I could go deeper into her pussy or her ass. It may have been both. We’ve fucked so many times, I am not remembering them all. And yes, we both saw heaven that day. To this I am not ashamed to admit. And so yes, I am looking to get back up in there, inside that heat. Just as soon as you give up, big man.”

“Don’t fight him, Leo,” Diana says softly. “You won’t win and I’m not worth it.”

“Well, Wonder Woman, if you’re not going to fight him,” Randy advises, “then stand aside while I do. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“He’ll kill you,” murmurs the trembling heroine. She turns and goes to sit down on the couch to await the outcome. Her hands are pressed between her thighs, her head turned to watch the carnage. Her heart is cold with raw terror.

“Last chance for us to share that drink and to be fucking that prime piece of Amazon tail, Mr. Hero. What do you say, double penetration, eh? She will do this in a heartbeat, I promise you. Think about it. You don’t have to die for her. She is not willing to die for you, this is for sure.”

“I believe she’ll come around and knock the crap out of you, Sergei.”

“Well, maybe you won’t be dead before that. But I doubt this.”

Randy takes a step into the hallway at the smiling Russian who’s confidently tossing the knife from hand to the other.

“Which side to attack, big man? Only one way to go wrong or go right. What is to be that expression you Americans love. Oh yes: So, do you feel lucky, punk? Huh, do you?”


* * *

“Well, Don Bonano, Carmine made a very strong economic case on your behalf,” Don Baldini says as the plates are cleared. It had been a sumptuous dinner that was conducted while covering a variety of topics not business related. This stipulation was arranged by the mediator so as not to interfere with his digestion. Lots of innocuous small talk and key sports results were exchanged and there was no gunfire.

“Now can you please tell me why you should not be severely penalized by the families for so aggressively taking three popular heroic icons off the streets while dragging the name of the Mafia through them?”

“Thank you for the opportunity to state my case, Don Baldini. Almost a year ago, my only intention was to remove Supergirl from my territory so I could execute a moderate expansion,” Tony explains. “She was a constant inhibiting force against me so I naturally took steps to remove her so I could conduct my business like you or any of the many families around the country. I saw nothing wrong in that.”

Supergirl sits with her hands in her lap, simply listening to Tony’s cold explanation of how she was little more than a minor interference to be removed. It makes her feel very insignificant, especially based on how quickly and easily he had accomplished his task.

“Supergirl, of course, was based in New York eight months ago and she exhibited a particular interest in my businesses in Brooklyn and Manhattan, two of the prime economic engines of the five boroughs. That’s no disrespect to your area of Queens, Don Baldini,” Tony nods at the mediator with respect. “The Bronx and Staten Island of course were patrolled much less actively by her. I am sure you have run up against her in your time, Don Baldini, no?”

“There have been one or two occasions I’ve suffered losses to her,” Tomas Baldini freely admits. “I simply marked it up to the cost of doing business and tried to avoid her whenever possible. I kept a low profile, though. I did not go out seeking trouble by tangling with her. And nobody here needs an economics lesson on the five boroughs so please make your point, Don Bonano.”

“My point is that it was getting more and more difficult to avoid her. She became a constant factor in my business plan. So yes, I arranged a way to effectively remove her as a factor and, ultimately, to turn her into a source of income. I had only expected a moderate cash flow by turning her into a crack whore and selling her services for a nice profit. It was only when the DVDs of her sexual conquests became such a highly desirable commodity that her profile increased.”

“But it was you, Don Bonano, who created, finished and distributed those DVDs,” declares an exasperated Gino. “You built her profile to worldwide proportions and yet you expect not to suffer the consequences when it comes to roost on the doorstep of all our families?”

Tony turns to Gino and direct his question to him directly. “How much call is there among all the media to save Supergirl these days, Don Lupenzo?”

“Well, it has declined somewhat,” Gino admits reluctantly and Tony is surprised to see him do so.

“That’s because I ruined her reputation so thoroughly. And that of Wonder Woman when she came looking for her and I captured her as well. Both women have become social pariahs when it comes to being effective heroines now. Were I to release either or both of them, I sincerely doubt they would be able to resume their careers in this city or any other on the globe.”

Supergirl looks like she wants to crawl under the table and hide while being discussed as if she were a complete nonentity, which, at this point, she realizes she is.

“And what of Superman,” Don Baldini inquires. “His reputation is not so badly soiled. Why do you not release him. Is it greed, Don Bonano?”

“Superman is not held by me, Don Baldini. I’m sorry to say that Lex Luthor now controls him.”

“Aaah. I don’t think I realized that,” the mediator says thoughtfully.

“I apologize for interrupting but I need to use the ladies room,” Supergirl surprisingly declares. “To splash some water on my face. This discussing is making me queasy.”

“I’ll join you, sugah, if you don’t mind. All this business talk, well, it’s just making mah head spin.” Scarlett grabs her small red sequined purse from under her chair. She’d left it there leaning against the chair leg after it had been being passed through the metal detector and then thoroughly examined by hand when she first arrived.

All the gentlemen rise as one when the two women stand up and head off to the small hallway past the end of the bar where the rest rooms are located. While they’re away, Tony explains how Lex managed to relieve Tony of his male superhero.

Inside the ladies room, Supergirl goes into one of the stalls, pulls down her red silk panties and pees. She’d always been delighted that she wasn’t of those heroines who had to undo half their damn costume just to relieve themselves. When the last of her stream dribbles out, the blonde tears off some toilet paper, wipes herself and drops the paper into the toilet. Then the blonde puts her elbows on her knees and buries her face in her hands and sighs deeply. All that talk about Kal was so depressing, she just had to get away from it, get a change of scene.

Meanwhile, Scarlett gets close to the long marble counter and leans into the mirror slightly as she refreshes her lipstick. She carefully edges her lips, takes a paper towel and lightly blots her lips while waiting for the heroine to come out of the stall. At that time she will make her move and take out the strongest woman on the planet without even needing to use the kryptonite collar circling her pretty little neck. She had her own means, just as effective without all that nasty puking.
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TaliaAlGhul101
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Okay, got 2 tabs open, gonna read and review and the same time.

Tony a little bit keyed up there, even snapping at Carmine. Still curious on what his true endgame is, he is obviously expecting a fight no matter how the meeting goes but unless as Kara put it, he has an over ride for the collar, his ace is all but useless. There is also his suddenly deciding to release the girls despite prior months of other Mob heads breathing down his neck to let the girls go. And he is being all secretive about it even though he is finally doing what they and the girls want and has Randy getting ready to sneak Diana out of the Dome despite owning the building and everyone being on his payroll. Is this a back up in case the other Dons decide to change there minds and keep the girls making money so he wants to keep there release quiet? Even then given how he has treated the girls throughout the story him suddenly gaining a conscience is highly unlikely even if he can occasionally act kind when it suits him. Also i have noticed that despite what he personally put her through, Kara and Tony and even Carmine can be oddly occasionally congenial with one another. Stockholm Syndrome maybe? Or i suppose it could be chalked up to Kara simply being so much of a paragon that she can be friendly even with her captors.

Randy certainly plays the part of a massive douche well, enough to fool Carlo at least. And ouch, $863.00 for her time, even if its all a a lie and a part of the ruse that, has to sting. Although surprised she still has enough pride in her to feel hurt by such things after everything she has had done to her and been made to do. Well bout time some good came Diana's way lol. Must have been quite some time since she felt anything resembling hope.

Well that was quite the thorough body search.
Turning around, Supergirl whispers to the large hoodlum, “I hope you enjoyed that because I plan on finding you when this is all over and hurting you. A lot.” Hah, there is some of that old spark still there even if it cost her. Was easy to forget that despite there previous callings for the girls to be released, if simply for practicality, that these Mob guys are still utter pricks. Right off the bat Tony is at a disadvantage with most of the people in the room being peeved with him for one reason or another.

All this considered, getting knocked out and bound to have a headache is only a small start to the payback the girls owe Carlos. Props to Wonder Woman I suppose for not taking the chance to get herself a piece of payback. Aaaaand that rescue just might have gone up in flames. Figured Sergei would pop up somewhere but talk about bad timing. Just when she is about to get rescued lol. Nearly getting beaten to death by this guy has certainly left its mark on Diana.

8 months eh? Thought it previously had been at most 6 months since Diana was taken only a few weeks after Kara unless i am remembering wrong. Whoa, didnt expect Carmine to suggest targeting even more heroes and heroines, maybe if more capes started vanishing and then showing up in sordid DVD's, it would galvanize some of the other heavy hitter into actually doing something.

That baby throwing thing is gonna follow Sergei for quite a while isnt it lol? And he brought the dang knife, lovely.

“Of course I did. I HAD NO CHOICE! YOU CAN’T CONCEIVE OF WHAT HE PUT ME THROUGH! EVER! EVER!” Diana screams her anguish out, then suddenly she withdraws, sealing herself away emotionally." Wonder how long that's been bottles up. Quite the unexpected hero in Randy. Guy has a bit more honor and even a bit of decency than your average mobster. Probably gonna get a knife to the gut for his troubles but there are worse ways to go than trying to save someone.

Poor Kara being remanded on just how far she has fallen in the peoples eyes. Well time to see what Scarlett has up her sleeve for dealing with Kara. Will be interesting whether she can pull it off even though Kara has the collar on and the mob guys are nearby.
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DrDominator9
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Thanks Talia for your continued support. Let me answer your points as much as I can without giving away spoilers....


TaliaAlGhul101 wrote: Tony a little bit keyed up there, even snapping at Carmine. Still curious on what his true endgame is, he is obviously expecting a fight no matter how the meeting goes but unless as Kara put it, he has an over ride for the collar, his ace is all but useless.
There are aces and there are aces. Oooh, what could I mean by that?


TaliaAlGhul101 wrote: There is also his suddenly deciding to release the girls despite prior months of other Mob heads breathing down his neck to let the girls go. And he is being all secretive about it even though he is finally doing what they and the girls want and has Randy getting ready to sneak Diana out of the Dome despite owning the building and everyone being on his payroll. Is this a back up in case the other Dons decide to change there minds and keep the girls making money so he wants to keep there release quiet? Even then given how he has treated the girls throughout the story him suddenly gaining a conscience is highly unlikely even if he can occasionally act kind when it suits him. Also i have noticed that despite what he personally put her through, Kara and Tony and even Carmine can be oddly occasionally congenial with one another. Stockholm Syndrome maybe? Or i suppose it could be chalked up to Kara simply being so much of a paragon that she can be friendly even with her captors.
After the first week or two of bearing down on Supergirl to accept his training, her addiction and her helpless situation, Tony actually lightened up quite a bit, except for an occasional reminder session as needed when she got too independent in her attitude. He actually respects and adores Kara. He just can't let her know that.


TaliaAlGhul101 wrote: Randy certainly plays the part of a massive douche well, enough to fool Carlo at least. And ouch, $863.00 for her time, even if its all a a lie and a part of the ruse that, has to sting. Although surprised she still has enough pride in her to feel hurt by such things after everything she has had done to her and been made to do. Well bout time some good came Diana's way lol. Must have been quite some time since she felt anything resembling hope.
Randy was a key part of Supergirl's early training until he developed feelings for her that got in the way of him being effective. Tony put him in contact with some talent agents in California. Guess the acting lessons took! LOL

And yes, she does finally have some hope, justifiably so.



TaliaAlGhul101 wrote: Well that was quite the thorough body search.
You're welcome!

TaliaAlGhul101 wrote:Turning around, Supergirl whispers to the large hoodlum, “I hope you enjoyed that because I plan on finding you when this is all over and hurting you. A lot.” Hah, there is some of that old spark still there even if it cost her. Was easy to forget that despite there previous callings for the girls to be released, if simply for practicality, that these Mob guys are still utter pricks. Right off the bat Tony is at a disadvantage with most of the people in the room being peeved with him for one reason or another.
Making SG feisty in these circumstances was a bit of a tightrope walk. But I'm glad to hear it was well-received.


TaliaAlGhul101 wrote: All this considered, getting knocked out and bound to have a headache is only a small start to the payback the girls owe Carlos. Props to Wonder Woman I suppose for not taking the chance to get herself a piece of payback. Aaaaand that rescue just might have gone up in flames. Figured Sergei would pop up somewhere but talk about bad timing. Just when she is about to get rescued lol. Nearly getting beaten to death by this guy has certainly left its mark on Diana.
Carlos' fortunes aren't quite closed out yet you'll soon see. And yes, Sergei has left a permanent impression on both Diana and Kara, one that will haunt their dreams for years to come.


TaliaAlGhul101 wrote: 8 months eh? Thought it previously had been at most 6 months since Diana was taken only a few weeks after Kara unless i am remembering wrong. Whoa, didnt expect Carmine to suggest targeting even more heroes and heroines, maybe if more capes started vanishing and then showing up in sordid DVD's, it would galvanize some of the other heavy hitter into actually doing something.

That baby throwing thing is gonna follow Sergei for quite a while isnt it lol? And he brought the dang knife, lovely.
There was a long gap when I was writing this section of the story and to be honest I probably lost track of how many months the girls were held captive over all. Time is so relative, isn't it?

As for Carmine's comments, it's basically just a smoke screen. Something Tony wanted him to say.



TaliaAlGhul101 wrote:“Of course I did. I HAD NO CHOICE! YOU CAN’T CONCEIVE OF WHAT HE PUT ME THROUGH! EVER! EVER!” Diana screams her anguish out, then suddenly she withdraws, sealing herself away emotionally." Wonder how long that's been bottled up. Quite the unexpected hero in Randy. Guy has a bit more honor and even a bit of decency than your average mobster. Probably gonna get a knife to the gut for his troubles but there are worse ways to go than trying to save someone.
Stop reading my mind!!


TaliaAlGhul101 wrote:Poor Kara being reminded on just how far she has fallen in the peoples eyes. Well time to see what Scarlett has up her sleeve for dealing with Kara. Will be interesting whether she can pull it off even though Kara has the collar on and the mob guys are nearby.
It won't be long now. The exciting conclusion will be posted tomorrow.
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