A story by
Ceramic: ceramic762@yahoo.com
Alluring Birth
Samantha Baxter lay sprawled
upon the bed in her apartment staring at the large vibrator in her hand. Called
a beauty all of her life, she couldn’t believe that she was doing this. It was surreal.
She shook her head, not the use of the vibrator of course, that wasn’t so hard
to fathom. Just the reason why.
Sighing, she twisted off the end
of the pleasure toy and reached across her rumpled blue bed spread towards the
unopened package of AA batteries. A new toy needed new batteries, of course.
Hopefully this one would do the trick, it being bigger than the small tulip
wand she usually relieved her tensions with. Screwing the cap back on, she
started up the motor. A small gasp escaped from her lips as she nearly dropped
the buzzing sex toy. There was little doubt that it would do the trick.
Spreading her slim, shapely
legs, Samantha closed her eyes and took a deep breath before guiding the
phallus towards her nether region. She had a habit of keeping it waxed smooth
for the occasional bikini-day, but today it almost made her more aware of the
space around her slit. She could almost feel the vibrations as they neared her
hairless sex and she could feel her body dampen in anticipation. It would enter
easily.
Things were not thus three days
ago, she recalled. Three days ago, she lived a simpler life with just a steady
job, a boyfriend, and a secure peace of mind that allowed her to walk
blissfully through the city doing her mundane chores. Samantha was a waitress
for a small coffeeshop off of
Pop’s was no money magnet,
however, and so Samantha was never really rolling in the dough. But, it did
give her a chance to utilize her assets in a manner that wasn’t so revealing as
say… exotic strip tease. Besides, she doubted that she would have been great
anyhow. When she imagined exotic dancers, visions of tall amazons filled her
mind, not short bundles like herself.
Her boyfriend Josh, however,
thought otherwise. Even though she was barely over five feet, he said that she
would make just as much money as the rest of the girls. Maybe even more. When
she heard that, Samantha didn’t know if she should blush at the compliment, or
smack him for the audacity of the suggestion. Or perhaps give him a good swing
for sneaking off to places like that in the first place and not telling her.
Josh did have a point however,
Samantha thought, slowly opening her eyes. The tip of the vibrator was still
poised over her sex, its head gently nudging at her tight pussy lips.
Carefully, she lifted her head and looked down the length of body between her
breasts. She was small, yes, but very well formed. Shapely. People had always
thought so, with her sleek curves and her nubile, flexible body. While many
fancied the tall, supermodel look, Josh always loved her compact and petite
frame. That and he loved her breasts. There were large, especially for her body
type, but firm, round, and pert. He loved to fondle them, and rub their tips
with his thumbs. Her skin was fair, and her hair was long and blonde. And her
face and lips, like an angel he said. One of those beautiful ones that played
the trumpets in all the famous paintings, he would say, for she could blow like
none on earth. Once again, Samantha closed her eyes, her pulse quickening.
Tentatively, she began to push the vibrator deep within her folds and almost
immediately she let out a low moan. Oh my she thought, as she felt
herself beginning to stretch around the toy. This will have some getting
used to.
She first started noticing them
watching her when she was fifteen. No, not the boys, although their googly eyes
would track her every movement in school as well, but the tall men the sedans.
They were creepy, with dark glasses and black suits. They had always been
there, always in the distance, always a step behind her. Of course, no one ever
really believed her that they were there. Her mother didn’t believe, always
laughing at her over-active imagination. When she was older, the police never
believed. Even if they did believe her, their answer was always the same: they
couldn’t do anything since these so-called Men in Black didn’t do anything to
her. They never even attempted to make contact with her.
So, Samantha lived with them day
and night until her twenty-first birthday when abruptly, they disappeared. At
first she didn’t miss their lack-of-presence until the day after when she
ushered Josh into her bedroom for a belated birthday fuck. On a whim, she
glanced out of the window to see where her Peeping Toms were, but was
astonished to find that their traditional black car was nowhere to be seen. At
the time, however, she didn’t have too long to wonder about this revelation,
since Josh took Samantha’s face being pressed up against the curtains and the
window as an opportunity. Her long, thorough, birthday fuck began from behind
that day and eventually was moved from the window to the bed for fear of
breaking the glass.
So began her short few days of
freedom. Two months passed without incident and no sign of the Men in Black.
That was until three days ago. For some reason, she wished the Men in Black
were around then.
Samantha was coming home from
her afternoon shift from Pop’s. The evening was just setting in and the sun had
set beyond the tall skyscraper-filled skyline. Her route home on the metro was
usually safe, however there was a particularly empty stretch of road between
the station and Pop’s diner where she walked by an empty lot. Usually, during
the day there were kids playing in the mud there and as she walked by, she
could see the tire swing they had hitched up to a tree twisting in the gentle
breeze. In the distance, she could hear the shrill sound of an accelerating
engine coming down the street. It was an odd sound she thought in the back of
her mind. Usually, in this part of town, the traffic was much slower and a part
of her was glad that the kids that usually frequented the lot were gone for the
day. Often their joyful playing spilled out into the street and the last thing
she wanted to hear about on the news was a tragic accident involving a reckless
motorist and a gaggle of children.
As she walked, she listened to
the sound of the engine as it came closer and closer. She frowned. It was
coming much faster than anyone should be on these streets. Samantha turned her
head just in time to see the dark sedan come to a screeching halt just ten feet
away from her. Taking a step back, a part of her mind wondered what on earth
these lunatics were doing, when from the back seat, two men dressed like street
ruffians disembarked. They were definitely not Samantha’s Men in Black. These
two were unpolished and unprofessional looking. For half a second, the two men
looked at Samantha in her white blouse and maroon vest and skirt – Pop’s
uniform – before the charged her. She knew that big men could be quick, for she
had spent enough time watching football players in her youth, but she had never
gotten used to it. Samantha didn’t even have time to scream when she felt
large, rough hands closing about her mouth and her narrow waist. Roughly, and
without ceremony, the two toughs dragged her into the back seat of the sedan.
"Get her in!" came the
rough voices all around her. The hand clamped around her face smelled so
strongly of cigarettes and sweat that it almost made her gag. Down by her feet,
she felt more hands trying to hold her down. She kicked and felt her heel
connect.
"Gah! I think the bitch
broke my nose!"
"Shut up! Get the rag, you
idiot!"
"Here! Here!"
As the hand pulled away from her
mouth, she nipped futilely at the fingers before a white cloth was placed over
her mouth and nose. Slowly, as she began to inhale the fumes rising from the
rag, she heard the voices fading away, "The cunt... she tried to bite me...!"
* * *
Samantha didn’t know how long
she was out. Maybe a few hours, maybe a few minutes. All she knew was that when
she awoke, she was no longer in the car with the toughs, but instead was
stretched out upon a cold, cold metal table. Blinking blearily awake, she
slowly felt her surroundings spin back into place. First came the voices,
"Oh...! I think our dear little girl is waking!"
Glancing towards the voice,
Samantha found she couldn’t quite focus very well. Whatever they used on her to
knock her out did a pretty good job of it. She could only identify the voice as
a muffled blob.
"My dear," the voice
said, the low falsetto of a neutered male, "Don’t you worry, the after
affects of the drugs will go away shortly." Blinking again, Samantha found
that the voice was right. In a short time, she could see her captor clearly as
her eyes were able to focus. As well, she could see something of her
surroundings. She was in some sort of lab. Florescent streams of bright light
surrounded her body like a halo, shadowing the remainder of the lab about her.
The bare outlines of what she guessed to be lab equipment were but darker
angles amongst the surroundings. The air was sterile and dry.
He was a strange looking man:
small and wiry with a large, white lab coat and a sort of geeky air about him.
Bright green eyes were magnified by thick, coke bottle glasses and shocks of
wild white hair, reminiscent of Doc Brown from Back to the Future, screamed
eccentricity and oddity. And then his voice! That mellow falsetto immediately
sent Samantha on edge.
"Ah yes!
Well, miss. Let me introduce myself," the man said, creeping ever so
closer with a sickeningly sweet smile. Her eyes focused helplessly upon his
plump lips. "I am Doctor Mazlow, and may I be the first to welcome you to
my humble home."
Samantha cringed as Doctor
Mazlow neared, and watched his long spidery hands lift over her. It was then,
for the first time, that she noticed her condition. She was strapped down
spread-eagled and naked upon the table, her wrists and ankles bound by leather
straps. Futilely, she struggled against them as his fingertips glided upon the
curve of her breast. "Don’t --! Don’t touch me!" she cried out.
"Yes. Yes, you are a fine
specimen, little one," the Doctor crooned, "The government was intelligent,
for once, to watch you."
"Don’t!" Samantha
cried out once again in horror as his fingers trailed sensuously down her belly
towards her cunt. "Don’t," she pleaded again, a sob catching her voice.
Squeezing her eyes tight, she could his fingers playing lazily along the length
of her slit.
Suddenly, from somewhere behind
her, a door banged open with terrifying force. Doctor Mazlow’s hands jerked
away from her guiltily and she could hear the clipped sound of high heels
making their way into the room. "Mazlow!" a low, silky voice called.
Carefully opening her eyes,
Samantha glanced up towards the door but could not see because of the angle. It
wasn’t until the woman came around to the side that Samantha felt her breath
catch in her throat. Samantha was no follower of the daily news, but even she
knew the woman before her. She was wanted through the country by federal
agencies and vigilante groups alike. A beautiful, statuesque woman, she was known
as Queen Orgasma.
Tall and sleek, Queen Orgasma
was a teenage boy’s wet dream. Dressed in a tight fitting negligee of black
leather, thigh-length black heeled boots, and long dark gloves, she looked like
a model from a lingerie catalog. Her breasts were adequate too, and the way
that Doctor Mazlow seemed to drool as he gazed upon them lovingly, he had to
agree. Her face was fine and cool, and down her back a long mane of black hair
spilled to her waist. Upon Queen Orgasma’s head rested a crown jeweled with
some black and white stones that Samantha could not identify, and in one hand
she held a long riding crop, which she slapped into the palm of her other hand.
"Mazlow, you weaselly shit!", she purred, "You were supposed to
tell me when she woke." Pausing, the Queen’s fine eyes ran themselves
across Samantha’s body. "Let me guess, you were going to molest the poor
child first just to try her out for yourself?"
While the she was speaking,
Doctor Mazlow’s hands had been slowly, surreptitiously rising towards the
Queen’s ample bosom. **CRACK**!! Queen Orgasma’s crop lashed out and left a
long, red mark upon the back of the doctor’s hands. Cringing away like an
injured animal, Doctor Mazlow squeaked, "No! No, your Majesty! I would
never do that!"
Queen Orgasma smiled cruelly,
her red lips contrasting to her pale face, "No. Of course you wouldn’t
now, would you? She is mine, however. That particular right is mine." The
Queen’s eyes lit up with a mad ferocity as she turned back towards and extended
a long arm towards the apex of Samantha’s legs. "My dear, Samantha. You
are going to make me a ton of money, did you know that? You really are an
alluring morsel."
Tears began to moisten
Samantha’s eyes as she felt the Queen’s fingers run gently long the length of her
slit, tantalizing it with their feather touch, "Please… why are you doing
this to me? How do you know my name?"
Samantha struggled in vain as
the first tip of the Queen’s fingers pushed into her pussy. As the finger
slipped in deeper, Samantha mewed helplessly. "Samantha, have you ever
asked yourself why the government had been keeping tabs on you? Yes, the
government. Those snoops that watched from their black sedans?", Queen
Orgasma asked. Turning aside, almost clinically, she commented to Doctor Mazlow,
"The process has started. I can feel her changing as I speak. Be ready
with the Sensitizer!"
Samantha squinted her eyes as
the Queen pushed her finger in ever further. It wasn’t like she had never been
sodomized before, but by a woman and entirely against her will? Reaching the
finger’s full length, the Queen began a slow pumping of Samantha’s pussy.
Samantha gasped and bit her lip. She couldn’t figure out why Queen’s finger
felt so good, or why she herself felt so tight. Even as her pussy began to slick
the long, probing, digit with her cream, she still felt disturbingly full.
Seeing the girl’s breath begin
to rasp and her bosom begin to heave, Queen Orgasma smiled and inserted a
second finger. She was rewarded with a small, breathless cry from her beautiful,
bound subject. The girl sounded like pure heaven. The men are going to love
fucking this creature all night long. As she pumped, the Queen continued
her small lecture, "You see, my dear. Ever since you were young, the
government has been keeping tabs on you because of your genes. You have great
potential for what the media likes to call, ‘Super Powers’. Thanks to Doctor
Mazlow here, who was one of those government scientists watching you, I have
read your file! Isn’t that nice?" The Queen smiled evilly and begin to
curl her fingers deep within the girl. They were deft and experienced and it
didn’t take long for copious amounts of the girl’s juices to be spilling on the
table beneath her.
"I certainly think so, at
any rate. You were identified as a possible ‘Regen’, Samantha. Do you know what
that means? I’ll take that particular sob as a no. Well, it means that you heal
incredibly fast. Amazingly fast!" The Queen paused for a moment to lift
her fingers to her mouth and lick away Samantha’s sticky wetness, "Mmmm…
my dear. They’re going to enjoy eating that delectable cunt out too. Where was
I? Oh yes, prepping your pussy and telling you all about your fate. Not long
ago, I recently captured another dearie who had the ‘Regen’ power. Miss Ember was
her name. Have you heard of her? Did I hear you moan yes? Well, good. She was
quite a popular Superheroine in New Albion. Well, about a month ago, I trapped
her and then had her fucked into submission by my lackeys. As it turns out,
Samantha, Regens make the best whores, for as you will come to find out, their
powers are always healing them. So…" The Queen smiled as she began to pump
even more viciously in and out of Samantha’s pussy, "You, and Miss Ember,
can go all night long. And from the first to the last stroke of a massive cock,
you will always be super tight."
Samantha spasmed and arched her
back helplessly as Queen Orgasma violated her pussy with her fingers. Her mind
whirled and she barely noticed the third finger being added. All she could do
now, was sob and gasp as she felt her pussy stretching to accept the third
invasive digit. Somewhere, in the distance, the Queen continued to speak.
"How did you get these
powers you ask? Well, I’ll tell you, child! While you were unconscious, pervert
Mazlow over here (who is beating off when he **should** be getting that damned
machine ready!) shot you full of Gamma Rays or some such that were keyed to
your mutant genes, and released your powers. And well, he appears to be
successful on all accounts! But… let me let you in on a tiny secret, little
girl." The Queen leaned forward to whisper throatily in Samantha’s ear,
"He cranked up those Gamma Rays to almost unheard of dangerous levels. And
well, because of that, that Regen of yours is quite possibly a hundred times
more powerful than that super-skank lightweight Miss Ember’s. But, if you ever
meet her, don’t tell her that." The Queen laughed softly, "She might
get jealous."
"I’m ready, your
Majesty," came Doctor’s Mazlow’s falsetto.
"Finally, you fool. And the
trigger mechanism had better not be sticky," the Queen threatened. Turning
back to Samantha now, the villain said, "Now, you are a small girl you
say. If you’re going to be sold to a Villain’s League full of men with huge
dicks that are going to ride you like a merry-go-round, then wouldn’t that
hurt? Well, of course it would. But, since you are just coming in to your
healing powers now, Mazlow and I thought we’d go and deepen that pretty little
pussy of yours before permanent changes to your body can no longer be made. Oh
yes, my dear. It’s going to hurt quite a bit right now, but believe me, you’ll
thank us for it later when you’re being stuffed so full of man meat that all
you can do is scream."
"Please… don’t,"
sobbed Samantha helplessly as Queen Orgasma withdrew her fingers from the
sopping cunt, "Please…!" But before Samantha could utter another
word, she felt fingers spread the lips of her pussy and a hot burning tip
placed against her opening. Blinking her eyes open in fear and surprise, she
saw the machine that the Queen had been snapping at the Doctor about. It was a
huge steaming contraption, placed between her spread legs. Out the center,
pointing directly at her pussy, a six foot long, extraordinarily thick pole
looked to be prepared to skewer her. All along the length of the pole, bumps
and grooves seemed to shine a bright blue light, sparking and sending arcs of
electricity from one node to another. But even more frightening was the tip,
shaped like the head of a cock, it glowed near blindingly with the same
blueness. "No! You can’t! It will never fit!", Samantha cried out in
desperation.
"You don’t think that we’ll
put that whole thing in you, do you?" smiled Queen Orgasma evilly,
"No, my dear. We’re just going to put it in as far as it will go. And then
some!" Then, with a laugh, she pushed the machine forward into Samantha’s
dripping cunt. "Open wide!"
Searing pain swept through
Samantha as her body stretched around the huge pole that felt like it was going
to split her in half. Deeper and deeper it went into her, burning through her
body and pushing deep into her womb through the cervix. Arching her back, she
screamed and screamed as it pushed and scorched itself against the furthest
walls.
"That’s right, Samantha.
Take it all like a good little whore," the Queen cooed as Samantha began
to black out, "Just leave this in all night like a good girl. And in the
morning, we’ll come and see how nicely you’ve healed around the
Sensitizer."
* * *
Samantha blinked her eyes open,
her tears having long dried upon her cheeks. Carefully, she struggled and found
that she was still bound to the table, and still impaled by the huge pole.
Seeing the large machine between her legs, Samantha remembered what they had
done to her earlier and cried. She could still remember the horrible, horrible
pain.
But now… the pain was gone? What
had happened? For that matter, she noticed that sometime during the night the
machine had shut itself off. Again, she struggled and this time she could feel
the pole still inside of her. She felt so tight! And so full of… pole! It would
not dislodge itself from her depths. Suddenly tired, Samantha sighed and closed
her eyes. She feared what was going to happen next.
In the distance, she heard
voices talking. Tilting her head slightly, she thought that it was Doctor
Mazlow. But who was he talking to with such authority? Suddenly, behind her she
heard the doors to the lab thrown open and Doctor Mazlow’s voice now very loud.
"Put her over there, fellows!" he piped in his falsetto. The lights
to the lab were switched on.
Into Samantha’s range of vision,
three burly, large, blue men came in dragging a much smaller body. It was a
woman, taller than Samantha, but definitely not the Queen, for instead of black
leather, this one wore a body suit of white and blue. Almost a contour clinging
running suit, or an athletics suit even. Across the woman’s eyes a red visor
was cracked and stained. To Samantha’s horror, she saw that choice parts of the
woman’s costume had been torn off exposing her breasts, ass, and pussy. They
held her like a limp, rag doll and Samantha could see that all three of her
exposed regions looked as if they had been sprayed down with a jism pumping
firehose.
In his falsetto, Mazlow directed
the brutes to lay the clearly defeated heroine on a table at the far end of the
lab. There, the creepy doctor began to remove his lab coat. "See, you’re
not so tough now are you, Nike? Mistress of Victory? You don’t seem so
victorious in your current state. You should not have struck Queen Orgasma so
hard with your fist! Good thing Voodoo Shaman was there to take her back to his
hut, otherwise you would have suffered most horribly."
Nike, the felled Superheroine,
moaned weakly and lifted a hand to her lips to wipe away some man-spunk. Finally,
she spit a glob at Mazlow, "I… hope… I broke… the bitch’s nose…"
"Whatever you did,"
replied Doctor Mazlow, pulling down his pants, "You’re going to regret it.
Now… boys. Hold her down!" The three large, blue men reached forward to
pin the weak heroine.
Samantha could only watch in
agony as the men prepared to rape the valiant heroine Nike before her very
eyes. Anger boiled down in the core of her being. She felt so helpless. Did the
villains always have to win?
As the men and the doctor began
to laugh, Samantha felt something within her break. A dam, a wall, she couldn’t
tell. Something changed within her that she didn’t have before. Power spilled
through her veins like electricity. And then suddenly, she felt renewed.
"Stop!" she commanded from the table.
With anger smoldering within her
breast, she felt the table she was strapped down to lift up from the floor of
the lab. She could feel the almost zero-gee feeling of being suspended in the air
and for a moment was confused. Yet somehow she knew she was the one doing this.
She was the one lifting the table! She sensed the strain somewhere at the back
of her mind and could feel beads of sweat forming on her brow. But whatever
pressure she was feeling was eclipsed by the realization that she was not
helpless at all. Not only was she a Regen, but she was a Telekinetic too!
The doctor and his cronies, as
if sensing something significant was happening, slowly turned her direction.
One of the blue thugs, all muscle and no brain, muttered in a dull voice,
"Uh-oh…"
Half-closing her eyes and using
her mind, Samantha withdrew the long, juice-dripping pole from her body and
sent the Sensitizer hurling over the villains heads. It was a clumsy throw and
missed them all by a mile, but it did strike the wall behind them and showered
the floor with its multitude of parts. While all four of the villains, and even
the heroine stared at the destroyed machine, Samantha loosened the bindings on
her legs and wrists before sliding lightly to the floor.
Rising shakily to her feet, she
gazed at the villains and cried, "You will let her go!"
Doctor Mazlow sneered, "Oh…
so you have a little side effect! Do you think that scares us? Get her boys. I
don’t care what her Majesty says, but were going to get to try out this little
trollop as well tonight!"
Looking at each other a bit of
confusion, the three blue men shrugged. They thought they were going to get to
play with the Nike-lady again that night. But, do whatever the Doctor orders!
With a loud bellow, the three brutes rushed towards Samantha, their hands
raised to pin and pummel.
But Samantha was ready. Although
she missed the first time, she figured the table was large enough not to miss a
second time. And with all her mental strength, she hurled the table she was
once bound to straight into the midsections of the three blue men.
The blue men roared as they were
battered by the legs of the table, gouged by the table’s corners, and finally
pressed flat and crushed against the wall by the table’s heavy mass reinforced
by Samantha’s anger-fuelled will. It was only when they stopped groaning and
moving that she let down the pressure on the thugs. A fleeting fear crossed her
mind. She didn’t kill them, did she? But then, one of the thugs fell from
behind the table to the floor with a shallow breath. No… she had not.
"You little cunt!"
piped Mazlow, "You’ll regret this!" And with a burst of speed that
she didn’t know was in him, the Doctor made a beeline towards the door.
Samantha, however, was sort of…
getting the hang of her Telekinesis power. After the heavy table, the Doctor
was no problem to pick up. Lifting a hand, Samantha spun Doctor Mazlow around
until finally, she threw him into the wall. After the initial sickening thump,
Mazlow slid to the ground unconscious.
Slumping now against a large
piece of lab machinery, pure exhaustion swept over Samantha. She had not known
that such use of her new power would wipe her out so. A thick sheen of sweat
covered her body and her muscles ached from the strain. She hoped that this
fatigue might be something that she could get used to.
Despite
her weariness, Samantha felt exhilarated on the inside. She had powers. Super
powers. As she watched Mazlow slide to the ground, however, another thought
struck her. What was she going to do now? Was this something she could ignore?
And what of Queen Orgasma. She knew her name and where she lived. She raised
her hands to gaze at her fine palms. What should she do?
Suddenly,
there was a presence next to her. Samantha turned startled, having almost
forgotten that Nike was still there. The Mistress of Victory had risen and
approached Samantha while the girl gazed at her hands. "Thank you,
Miss." Nike said softly.
Samantha
turned to face the woman squarely. Nike was slim and athletic looking. Samantha
noticed for the first time that the heroine had her dirty blond hair was pulled
back into a ponytail. Samantha swallowed as he gazed at the heroine she had
just saved. Although she had just carried the day in this battle, there was
something intimidating about being face to face with an accomplished
superheroine. "I’m glad I could help," Samantha replied, a bit
hesitantly. Glancing around at the messy lab she continued, "I am Samantha
Baxter. Could you tell me what we need to do now?" Then, taking a sharp
intake of breath, she said, "We need to get to a doctor! You’ve been
raped!"
"Pleased
to meet you, Samantha. I am Nike… no, not the real Greek goddess. Just, like
her I suppose." Nike smiled for the first time, clearly not as traumatized
as Samantha thought she would have been, "Yes… those brutes did a number
on me. God, they were big." She tenderly rubbed a shapely ass cheek.
"As for what we do now… we need to find another lab coat for you. I’ve got
Doctor Disgusto’s over there I can use," Nike continued, "Atleast
until we get back to the base and get some new clothes. The rest of the team is
on their way over right now to clean up this… secret laboratory. They’ll be
glad to meet you, I’m sure!"
Samantha
smiled and for the first time in a long time felt relieved. Then, she cried out
and ran to a set of tall wardrobes in the corner of the lab. It would never do
to meet some of New Albion’s finest Superheroes in the buff.
They came like a whirlwind, the
rest of Nike’s team. The Strange Defenders they were called. Samantha
recognized them and could name them all, for they were somewhat like
celebrities in New Albion. Praetorian, their stoic leader was the first through
the door. Followed behind him was Wind Raven, the team’s second in command, and
then the short but mighty Troll. Doc Burnsides, their resident physician and
gadget guy soon came in with Bubble Girl and Syrenade. And then finally, making
a dashing appearance with a bright flash of light, the most popular of the
group, the glistening Lightbeam, teleported in to the room.
Steadied by the masculine arm of
Lightbeam, with his dazzling eyes and long blond hair, Doc Burnsides did a
quick check of both her and Nike for any immediate damage to them. Seeing no
blood, broken bones, or serious abrasions, the Doc announced confidently,
"They’re alright, Praet. Or at least as good as they can be until we get
them back to the base."
Praetorian nodded his head as he
gazed from Nike to Samantha. The tall leader of the Defenders shifted a bit
uncomfortably in his black and grey body suit that outlined his athletic build.
With his broad shoulders and his chiseled face, she didn’t think that he had
any trouble getting women, even if he stood next to the model-like Lightbeam.
Well… that is if the man smiled more often. His strong, cold gaze could have
fended off a rhino. Absently, Samantha wondered what color his hair was under
his hood.
Glancing
back to his face, Samantha could not tell what the source of his discomfort
was, exactly. Perhaps it was the discomfort in knowing that beneath the cottony
white lab coats, both she and Nike were quite nude. Praetorian nodded his head
once again to himself, as if a decision had been made. His voice was deep and
melodic as he asked Samantha, "Well… we can take you back to our base,
Samantha, but I don’t think you can stay there. It isn’t exactly the safest
place for civilians."
Nike, clutching the lab coat
about herself, cleared her throat, "Praet. Samantha is a powered-lass
herself! She’s good in a fight and belongs with us." Turning her gaze
towards Samantha, Nike’s voice turned solomn, "She certainly saved my
bacon. She’s one of us."
Praetorian frowned and glanced
towards Wind Raven, the tall amazonian woman that resembled a battle-goddess.
Dressed simply in buckskins and tassels, there was almost a deadly elegance
about the woman as she moved. Long, auburn hair swayed and as she raised her
arms, toned muscles flexed. Across her shoulder, a heavy bow and a quiver full
of arrows rested. Samantha did not miss the daggers hidden in the woman’s boots
either. She felt even more intimidated by this woman than the rest, for
compared to her, she might have been a paperclip in size. But Wind Raven
surprised Samantha when she spoke. Smiling broadly, and flashing a neat set of
teeth, the tall amazonian replied in a delightfully high, girlish voice,
"Well, it is really up to her, Praet. What do you say Samantha? Would you
join us?"
Samantha stood quite stunned.
Her powers were so new that she never got passed the feelings of delight at
finding out she was special! Glancing about the superteam, she searched their
faces. "Well, I really don’t have any other place to go to. I’m almost
afraid to go back home. And I hardly know how to use my new powers."
She felt warm presence behind
her as Lightbeam himself drew near. She had forgotten how gorgeous the man was,
filling out his pure white spandex with his muscular form. And the yellow and
white cape complimented his long wavy hair. Drawing his hands about her upper
arms, he replied in a comforting manner, "I do not think that Queen
Orgasma will be hunting you down this very day. As well, there will be some
time for you to move."
Samantha quieted as she listened
to Lightbeam’s voice, just as stunned that the purest hero had decided to touch
her once again. Finding her voice, Samantha said, "I wouldn’t want to be a
burden…"
"You won’t," came
Lightbeam’s answer.
"And I won’t know what to
do…"
"We can teach you."
Samantha took a deep breath,
"Well… I would love to join the Strange Defenders then." Exhaling her
breath shakily, "Where do I sign?"
Bubble Girl laughed and clapped
her hands, and Nike shook her head ruefully. Somewhere, Troll jumped up and
down like a madman. Praetorian nodded once again, fixing Samantha with a grave
gaze, "Well… if you are to join us, then we cannot call you by your true
name all of the time. That’ll bring you more trouble."
"How about Mighty
Mentella!" announced Troll with his deep, gravelly voice.
"Pah!" replied Bubble
Girl, "Makes her sound like a rock band."
"Or how about Miss
Force?" suggested Doc Burnsides. He rubbed his chin in serious thought
over this.
To this suggestion, Praetorian
himself barely held back a smile and shook his head while a chorus of boos
showered upon Doc. Smiling at all the help she was getting, Samantha said,
"No… thank you all. But, I think I have a name for myself." She
paused and let her smile fade away into a thoughtful expression, "Something
Queen Orgasma told me."
Turning to gaze at each one of
her new team members, she announced, "From now on, I will be Allure."
Samantha smiled once more, "Yes. Allure."
* * *
Samantha arched her back as she
worked the large vibrator in and out of her super tight cunt. Her fingers were
slick with her own nectar and they slipped on the broad end, driving the toy
deeper into her body than she intended. "Oh!" she cried, frantically
tugging and fishing at the toy causing her pussy to go haywire. "Oh! No…!
Ah! Ah! Ah!" she whimpered as her finger’s slipped again twisting the top
and increasing the destructive vibration.
Samantha writhed in agony and
bicycled her slender legs ineffectually as she pulled and tugged at the
phallus. But fate was merciless as she accidentally dragged the toy over some
especially ultra sensitive spots within her body. Almost reflexively, her
extraordinarily tight pussy clutched hungrily around the mechanism. It was too
far in! "I’m… gonna… gonna… oh… oh… c-CUM!", she sobbed to the air,
arching and bucking.
Finally, her body, no longer
able to repress its pent up sexual stimulation, gave up. Clutching at the
sheets to either side, Samantha cried out in a long, convulsing release,
"Aaaaaahhhhhhh…!" The young woman came again and again and again as
her body let itself go. Finally, the blinding pleasure seemed to subside.
The toy still buzzed deep inside
of her though, and accompanying each involuntary squeeze of the vibrator with
her pussy, a spasm of delight shook its way through her. Finally, exhausted
from the exercise, Samantha tried again and this time was successful, dragging
the long toy from her tender sheath. Dropping the phallus on to the sopping bed
beside her, Samantha sighed deeply, her breasts heaving from the exertion.
"My god! You named yourself
aptly!", came a voice from the door to Samantha’s room.
Samantha glanced up to see Nike,
in complete Superheroine regalia this time – her stunning blue and white
bodysuit mended and undamaged. She wondered how long her friend had been standing
there watching her. She smiled shyly, "Well… they did say I had to make
sure that I wouldn’t heal over. My Regen is quite powerful they told me. To be
virginal again…!"
"Well, you don’t have to do
it every day. Everyone will think you’re a slut or something," Nike
grinned back, "And with the way you writhe in delirium, all our team’s
guys are going to try and take advantage of that." She offered a sly
laugh, "For that matter, even I thought about jumping in there with you to
help finish you off, and I like men!"
"All of them? Somehow I
doubt that," Samantha smiled with satisfaction and crawled to the side of
her bed and swung her legs over to get dressed. "Well, I suppose that’s
why they call me Allure," she said wryly, "To tempt you and then
defend you."
Nike laughed again, "That’s
right, sister. Get dressed. Let’s go knock some heads in, mankiller!"
"Right," Allure
laughed, "Sounds like fun."
End Chapter