Owning Virtue
By Valley Vixin
If this were a superheroes story, it would start at the beginning, but I
am not a hero. I go by Charles now, but it was something else last year, and
will be something else before long. I was a promising black college athlete,
until I blew out my ACL, now I am a thug. Paid muscle for a superpowered
sadistic ego maniac. I do bad things, mostly to bad people, but often enough
to good ones that I don’t look in the mirror too much; but pour enough
chemicals in and enjoy enough of the working girls and sweet desperate things
that Overlord passes around like candy and you can mostly forget.
Overlord is what happens when someone reads too much Ayn Rand and
Nietzsche before having his superhero origin story. He was a scientist who was
working on a super soldier program for the military. He used it to create a
boot strap to godhood for himself, and the blow up killed seventy or so of his
co workers and injured two or three hundred more. I looked it up, he didn’t
bother. He got the ability to impose his will upon people, super strength,
speed, invulnerability, but the big thing is his mind can compel anyone except
the strongest and most motivated to obey him, even if that means handing your
gun over so he can shoot you with it. He loves that one. I have seen it. He
looks like the blond smiling hero from every comic, sculpted muscles and smile
that flashes bright enough to make the iphones blush when they take his
picture, but his eyes are blue windows into an icy hell of sadistic need to
break everyone and everything that isn’t already serving him.
Virtue is a chump. She got killed throwing herself on top of an IED to
save her platoon over in the sandbox. Turns out someone was paying attention,
some goddess named Ishtar thought it a wonderful peachy thing, and brought her
back, only better. She got pretty much the same deal as Overlord, strength,
invulnerability, spooky senses, I mean I don’t know the specifics but in a room
two hundred meters underground where there is no light at all, she can see you
well enough to read your nametag. She did that one time she punched me out.
Said “Sorry Charles” and one punched me through my strength enhancing armour.
Concussion, nothing broken, then she put a fist through two feet of case
hardened steel of the door I was guarding, so she was just being nice.
She doesn’t look like the cartoon heroes. I mean, she isn’t showing much
skin at the start of a fight. I have seen her just about stripped, when we
hosed her down with a pair of 30mm gatling guns it pretty much took her pretty
blue on blue boy suit away, and the goods were seriously in the damn fine
curves on someone with that much muscle category, but her shoulder length brown
hair was just swept back with a band, not styled like the comics. Her face is
more the pack mother of all the local kids than supermodel, I mean she looks
like the kind you could always catch a meal with or steal a cookie from when it
wasn’t safe to go home. I mean I would bang her in a heartbeat, but she had
the kind of innocence that made you feel like a shit for being, well me for
one. It drove Overlord nuts. Plus his mojo didn’t work on her. She low key
didn’t bend or break for his mental stuff, you could shoot her, burn her, pound
the crap out of her, and she just got up, frequently spitting blood and
sometimes with ribs that were visibly broken, but that chick did not stop.
Overlord always gave in, caved when she hurt him. So did we. I mean, I am not
dying for that sick little creep. He calls us scum, thralls and minions, when
he is in a good mood. He casually murders us when he is in a bad one, so yeah,
willing to tap out.
Now she is on a leash, ring gag in
her mouth, collar on her neck and wrists glowing the same gold as the vibrators
sticking out her pussy and her ass as she stumbles behind me, whimpering, her
eyes vacant and needy, and a sign hanging from her nipple clamps. Virtue,
under new ownership.
It isn’t easy walking for me. The second to last fight we had with Virtue I
got caught under a collapsing radio tower, and my power suit was burning.
Overlord dropped the tower to buy himself time to crawl away after his beating,
and I was crushed under it. The arcing electricity through the girders
couldn’t kill me while my suit was intact, but I was on fire from the flame
throwers we had been using on Virtue (take her air and she will collapse, the
fire will take it! Good plan, killed a bunch of people, destroyed a few blocks
and failed). It was a race, either the fire would continue to eat through my
suit and the burns making me scream would eventually kill me, or enough of the
polymer would go and the electricity would get me. Then Virtue, stupid white
chick of the year, was there.
Electricity arcing over her, I could see her bite her lip and fight the
spasms it caused. Funny, I thought she was just immune, but she wedged herself
under the tower and began working her hand between my broken legs and the steel
tower, right through the fires on my armour.
She was surprisingly delicate, in hindsight, but with broken legs, on fire,
the feeling of someone’s hand pushing down your shin hurts like a mofo, and I
called her every name in the book. She delicately forced her hand between me
and the tower and yanked my black ass out. I was a long time in prison rehab.
I hated her like I hated no one on this earth. I couldn’t walk, my legs were a
mass of scar tissue, and it was six long hard months of rehab before I could
even walk again, six months that gave me the idea that brought me here, with
Virtue on a leash. Today was about revenge. Virtue saved me all those months
ago. That was a mistake.
“Shouldn’t have saved me Virtue. That mistake is going to cost a whole
lot. No one crosses me.”
I took the controller in my hand,
looking at it. This was it. This was what my life came to. I looked at Virtue
and stroked her hair. “Good Girl” I told her, and she screamed, cumming so
hard she crashed to her knees in front of Overlord.
Overlord had the damned cape on. I mean fuck me running. He looked like
he stepped out of a Saturday morning cartoon as the generic villain. He struck
the hero pose. Virtue oddly enough never did. She moved fast, hit hard, but
otherwise just moved like she had somewhere to be and was happy enough to enjoy
the walk. Now she was on her knees before the foe who could never beat her.
“Are those my pain collars? You broke her with my pain collars? How in the
hell did you do that, I had her in those with my own power added and she never
broke once. She put me in the hospital for a month when she got free!”
Overlord was torn between glee and rage, a dangerous tipping point, he could
kill me now and not a lot I could do about it.
Time to kiss ass, and live to get paid.
“Yeah boss, I stole a set. I tweaked them a little bit, I figured your shit
always works so maybe they just needed to be tuned to her a bit. I figured
since I got busted up and can’t work as your muscle any more, I needed a
retirement plan, so I tried a Hail Mary pass for Virtue to claim that one
million bounty you promised. I mean, your collars did the job, you win. I
just, you know, minioned.”
That’s right, low rent obedient thug massa, I a good house nigga massa, pay me
you sick fuck and take your toy. Let me out of here alive and everybody gets
what is coming to them. Sadistic psychos were crap employers, super powered or
business suit, they are all pretty much scum. Kiss the ring and you might get
a bonus not a bullet to the back of the head. It sucks, but that is life.
Overlord took the controller. I keyed the release, and he blanked it. Over
rode its controls for his own and drove a command into the collars that had
them flare like welding torches, bringing the pain to enough to stop the heart
of anything remotely human. Virtue screamed around her ring gag, crushing it
in her mouth, almost unnoticed. Completely unnoticed as her body quivered and
jerked were her eyes, the vacant brown of her cow like eyes of moments ago
flaring to the falcon gold of rage.
I reached down and cupped her breast, tugging on the nipple clamp gently and
whispered.
“Remember, I am not your enemy.”
I walked out. Off to accounting and the ready room to collect my reward and
say goodbye to the boys. I hadn’t seen their asses since I got left behind to
die, and they didn’t exactly come visit me in prison. Being broke and broken I
was old news. Since I am about to be rich, I expect to be popular. Go figure.
I checked my cell phone to make sure the money was transferred into my account,
then went to say hi to the boys.
“Chuck you sick fuck, how did you nail Virtue?” Qwon asked, he was always
going on about what he would do to her if he got the chance, he was an ass man
by choice.
“Tell me you got her ass, TELL ME!” He was grinning, but the widest smile was
on O’Toole.
O’Toole was a former Ranger, former merc, the kind of gun for hire that takes
on jobs no one could do or would do and does them in his sleep. He had a
reputation for always keeping his word, but repeatedly told us that reputation
exists because the ones he double crossed didn’t leave behind survivors. He
was a cold looking salt and pepper haired white dude whose frame was lanky
rather than muscular but could take any of the men unarmed, or armed.
“Charlie boy, you always were a dangerous thinker. I taught you that. Taught
you how there is always a way to win, if you are cold enough, bold enough. Now
you went and out did your teacher. You have to share buddy. How did you tame
miss goody too shoes entirely unkillable fucking Virtue? I want it all boy.”
O’Toole’s words were light, but they were not a question, they were an order.
I looked at my phone. I figured we had about fifteen minutes, so sure, story
time.
“This isn’t a story I tell for free.” I said, flashing my smile. Two teeth
short due to Virtue, but still a good smile.
“Beer this man!” O’Toole barked, and a beer flew across the room. I caught it
and cracked it.
“Well boys, I did some thinking in prison. It came to me during the rehab.”
End of part 1
Prison rehab was a bitch. I found out
that Virtue got some foundation to sign off on my surgeries to put a little
plate and a bunch of screws to put the bits of my legs back together again.
Then the skin grafts, then more skin grafts. Every surgery I hated her more.
That bitch. Invulnerable, invincible, and leaving me like this.
I got very little sympathy and a whole lot to think about when I started my
physiotherapy. When I went on my rant, which went over well in the cell
blocks, as Virtue put a few of us in there, I got slapped down so calmly it
shut my ass right up.
My physiotherapist was a chain smoking Chinese woman who looked five years
older than Jesus but had fingers with the grip strength of my old body armour.
She had a job to do, and no patience for those who would rather explain why its
someone else’s fault when they should be sweating for her amusement.
“How you expect to walk on those weak ass legs carrying this much bullshit?”
She said as I ranted as I walked between the upright bars, trying to relearn
how to bear weight on withered limbs. I went to take a swing at her, let go
the bar and hit the ground.
She sat beside me, lit an Export A and took a long drag, blew the smoke in my
faith and dropped some truths.
“Sweety, you a big strong buck, but you dumb like bag of rock monkey statues.
This Virtue of yours isn’t unfeeling, she pulled your leg out, keeping the
broken bones immobilized, while working her hand between the girder and your
broke ass, all while on fire, and getting zapped by the power lines. You have
no idea how delicate a touch that took. She felt everything, she just sucked
it up, and took the pain to protect your stupid ass. Now you lying on my floor
like a turd. Get up, I need you to walk for another ten minutes before I can
go for lunch, and you are not worth going hungry.”
I wasn’t that smart, so I argued with her for the next few weeks. She showed
me with the TENS unit how to induce pain, a trick to spike your pain enough
that when you shut it off, your body ignores the pain it was in before. It
worked like Overlords pain collars. She used it to make me sweat and writhe in
agony (for my benefit, and her amusement), then when she shut it off, made me
try to tie my shoes.
“You can’t do it sweety. You shut down the pain, you shut down the feeling,
now you can’t tie your own shoes. No way your Virtue shut down or ignored the
pain, she just accepted the pain, and worked through it. Face it sweety, she
tougher than you. Now pretend you have a pair and do your exercise so you get
better.”
I had seen Virtue in Overlords pain collars. I caught the overwash of one once
when I punched her and she was fighting it off. The contact dropped me to the
ground and made me piss myself. If she was fighting and bearing that, no way
pain was going to stop her.
I chewed on that for a while and didn’t like it. She was burning the whole
time she was saving me. She took all that pain to save my life while my own
guys cut and run. That wasn’t the most fun to swallow either. Pain couldn’t
break her. I remembered staring at her ass as she lifted that damned tower off
me and remember thinking that it would be so sweet to be balls deep in between
those toned white thighs. I bet a body in the shape she is in, the power she
has, must feel like you died and went to heaven when she came with you inside
her. My cock got hard. I thought about her.
Pain broke me. But I was coming back. Virtue saved me, and she would pay for
that. She would pay, and I would own her sweet white ass. Sure, pain wouldn’t
break her. What if I didn’t use pain? She has senses so sharp she can tell
which wire in the walls has power, hear a man breathing two rooms away, smell
concealed explosives from the residue a dog would be lucky to spot, and tell by
touch what the right number was on a lock, electric or physical. All that
sensitivity, and she has been training to work through pain her entire hero
life, but I haven’t ever seen or heard of her doing anything but fighting. No hobbies,
no dating, no sports. No pleasure.
Everybody breaks Virtue. Maybe that sadistic fuck Overlord won’t see it, but a
little Chinese physiotherapist just taught me how to break you. Looks like we
have a date Virtue. I stroked my hardening cock and resolved to work twice as
hard in the gym.
If I am going to finally break Virtue, I want my black ass in shape enough to
give her what both of us need.
End of part 2
Virtue was jumping from building to
building, crossing the city like she was using it like a Parkour course, only
twenty floors up, not on the ground. She let herself go, following the sounds
of the city at night, listening to the flow, and following the sharp breaks,
both sounds and silences that spelled trouble.
Tonight had been about average. One gang drive by ended by her flattening the
roof and pulling the would be shooters out, breaking their guns in front of
them, and reminding them they were in the wrong neighborhood, maybe they should
run, not walk home before she left, and left them suddenly unprotected.
One less satisfying stop was dropping into an alley where two uniformed cops
were shaking down, slapping around, and preparing to rape (or as they called
it, take a free sample) some of the local working girls. Honestly, as much
time as she spent protecting cops from super powered bad guys, she spent as
much protecting innocents from the less savoury of the boys in blue.
The pulse that took out electricity in the banking tower was like a blast wave
on her skin. Normal people wouldn’t have felt it, but every bird in half a
mile started squawking as they felt the disruption. I turned and bounded
towards the banking tower. This was a securities and trading center, not the
run of the mill bank job, but the kind of place you stole billions, or computer
records of transactions that could be held for ransom of even more. That was
unlikely to be an unpowered crime; security was tight. It could be supervillain,
or some form of technically enhanced crew.
The screams and running of hundreds of people in the tower were background
noise, she filtered them out. The huddled figures with pules hammering and
shallow breath were not targets, she filtered them out. There was one, just
one moving purposefully. Heavy tread, the stomp showing either enhanced
density or some form of power armour. One target, thirteenth floor. The floor
that didn’t exist. The computer core.
Virtue took a running start and aimed for the fourteenth floor, punching through a window like a tank main gun round. She rolled and burst through the office door, leaving the cowering executive under his desk. She ran to the main hallway and reached down to begin punching through the floor. In less than a minute, she had entry into the forbidden floor. Her target was still moving, almost to the core.
Charles was sweating in his power
enhancing suit. Sure he had put on muscle in the prison gym, but walking in
the suit with his crap leg meant forcing it to move normally, and that hurt a
ton. He was glad he wasn’t going to fight Virtue like this. It had never gone
well in the past, but if he straight up tried her now, it would be
embarrassing.
Looking around at the elaborate set up, he hoped he was right. If not, she
would not be kind a second time.
Victory strode into the chamber. There
were thirteen people present. Three were keyed up for a fight, ten were
terrified. So, hostages. Virtue tested the shot bags she had palmed. If she threw
them, two attackers were out, and she could probably reach the third before he
could do anything. If there were guns, she had to be enough of a threat to
make them face her.
She didn’t need surprise, she need attention.
Whistling “The Halls of Montezuma” a bad habit she picked up IED sweeping in the Marines, she strode forward into the ambush as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Not triggering a threat response until she knew what she was facing was key in getting out the hostages.
Three men, two were common gang bangers wearing
Lords patches, one of the gangs Overlord used to run his street operations.
The third was in full Overlord body armour, one of his enhanced thugs. Bullet
proof, up to but not including .50, stronger than a bear, but not much faster.
Immune to gas, taser, dart and just about any non lethal means other than an
old fashioned beat down.
The problem wasn’t the armour. It was what the hand was holding. A deadman
switch. There were collars around ten hostages, seven men and three women, all
with enough C4 on Overlord shock collars to take off their head and whatever
else was in the same room and not in armour. The armoured flunky had a deadman
switch, if he let it go, he and Virtue would be the only survivors.
“Here is the deal Virtue. You put this collar on, I let a hostage go without a
collar.” Charles said, holding up what looked like, and started out as, one of
Overlords pain collars.
“For every minute you hold out, I let one more go, without a collar. If you
get through ten minutes without surrendering to me, I surrender to you.”
Charles said, his cock starting to swell painfully in the armour.
Virtue looked at the collar. Overlords pain inducers. The one he made special for her was strong enough to kill another human being. They produced so much pain that when he grabbed her once when she was resisting it, it hurt him so badly he shut down the collar to make it stop. She left him hanging naked and upside down for the police when he did, using his control unit as his gag.
She extended her senses, no other
weapons. No other backup. No hidden rooms, no incoming helicopters or
reactivated elevators. This was it, this was the whole trap. A pain collar
she had beaten before. Virtue gripped her teeth. The pain was beyond
understanding, you just had to hold onto your will, your defiance, and if you dared
to let it take you, to stop resisting the pain, you could embrace it and fight
on. That is what heroes do.
“This won’t end well for you Charles. I spared you once, I saved you once, don’t
think your armour can hide your identity, nor that any pain you cause will be
enough to stop me. No enemy can ever beat me. You will be leaving here in
chains. Go ahead, I will let you put the collar on me once you let the old man
there go. He is on the verge of a cardiac event and may die while you
posture. You know I am a woman of my word.” Virtue said simply.
Charles felt hatred and bitterness well up, along with lust, and a certain
amount of admiration. Virtue really was some sort of poster girl for the shit
this country pretends its about, even though she knew very well it was about
money and the whims of those who had it.
Unlocking the first collar with his controller, he leaned forward to fasten the
control collar onto Victory. As he did, he whispered in her ear.
“One of us is leaving here in chains, but it won’t be me baby-girl. You made
three mistakes. First, you let me live. Second, I am not your enemy.”
Charles stepped back and held up the
controller an smiled, the gap in his strong white teeth shining against his
black face behind his darkened visor he suspected entirely visible to her
enhanced senses.
“What is the third mistake?” Virtue asked as the big clock behind Charles
flashed 10:00 and began to count down.
A flash of lightning cut through Virtue so powerfully it lit her entire nervous
system on fire. She screamed, sweat breaking out on her face as she collapsed
to the ground, her hands clutching the collar that bound her. Charles noted
how she was starting to pant, breath coming in gasps, her eyes wide and wild
like a trapped animal. Her thighs bunched and clenched, and she writhed like
something was impaling her.
Charles laughed. “It’s a pleasure collar. I bet a girl named Virtue who has
been busy saving the world since getting her hot ass killed and resurrected
hasn’t had much of a dating life. I bet you are just a little pent up, and I
bet you never ever dared face just how enhanced those other senses got, did
you?”
“Overlord tried beating you with pain baby girl, and you left him with a mouth
full of his own tech, hung up like a side of beef. I am going to beat you with
pleasure, and in ten minutes you are going to be begging me to use every one of
your tight little holes, and pass you around my homies for more.”
Virtue struggled to breath, she was
hyperventilating, she couldn’t think. The pleasure was too much. She got up
to try to run, but Charles grabbed her hair and spun her around.
“You tried to run, I should kill a hostage for that, what about your word
bitch?”
He slapped her, turning her heat to face
the hostages she just about abandoned. Her nipples ached, her pussy was
flooding, her mind shocked as Charles slapped her ass, right and left cheek as
he held her hair and spanked her hard enough the pain gave her clarity to
think.
“Bitch, how hard do I have to spank you so you can think. Do you want me to
kill a hostage as punishment or are you going to reset the clock and give us
something else to make up for breaking your word?”
Oh god, she whimpered, “Harder, please” Virtue begged, almost able to think.
Charles spanked her again and again, she pressed her ass back into him as he
punished her, punished her as she deserved. She almost killed the hostages
rather than face this pleasure.
“Don’t hurt them, reset the clock, I will do what you say!”
Charles whispered in her ear. “You don’t deserve that uniform. You were going
to leave them to die just because you aren’t strong enough to think when your
pussy is speaking. You just a ho without a pimp. A ho willing to let all them
good people you preach about die. Take it off”
Charles didn’t get why she was willing to do shit for these people. They
laundered money for big corporations and drug lords, ruined entire countries
just to make a commodity price jump or drop for their profit, but she would
risk her life and humiliate herself for them anyway. Virtue was a
superheroine, a chump, but she was the real deal.
She started to pull off her suit, and soon all three were stripping her, pawing
her, slapping her tits and ass, sucking on her surprisingly full C cup tits and
watching her moan.
The timer was reset at 10:00 if she noticed that it counted down only to the
eight minute mark before resetting to 8:59, then he might be in trouble, but he
figured she would be too distracted to notice soon.
The collar was blasting her mind and body with pleasure she had never
experienced, could not process, and her body wanted to run from the intensity.
At nine minutes, Charles said to her.
“I will free five hostages, if you will let me use a second control wand on you.
All you got to do, is not cum. If you cum, we have to reset the timer.” He
held up the wand, like the collar. She had seen the staff version used as
weapons against her, this was just the business end, one foot shaft of studded
contacts with a phallic cap.
“YES!” Virtue screamed, five hostages
was half way done. She could make it stop sooner. Five hostages were released,
and Charles began to work the wand on her, first her breasts, but the pleasure
was too intense, she began to scream and drove her fingers into her pussy.
“Bitch, you cum, they die!” Charles screamed at her, slapping her face and
tits, slapping again and again until her white breasts pinked up.
“Help me please! I don’t want to, but I can’t stop touching myself!” Virtue
begged.
Charles held up locking control cuffs with a cable between them.
“Bitch I will lock your hands up to keep you from getting anyone killed, but
you got to look after my boys if I do. You keep them happy and I will put these
on you, but if you say no, I take them off, and your hostages go bye-bye when
you cum.” Charles said cruelly.
“Please, yes, please ANYTHING!” Virtue begged, as only the swearing
gangbangers were able to keep her hands from darting to her clit even now.
Charles got her in the cuffs behind her back, and the cable powered up between
them. They amplified the power of the collar by a degree but administered
spikes whenever the cable was stretched that were enough to stop coordinated
movement. Literally, more pleasure than she could take.
Virtue felt the first gang banger unzip and a hard brown cock, about seven
inches was slapped all over her face. Cock whipping the heroine while yanking
on her nipples to cause her enough pain to focus, he looked down on her.
“Not so high and mighty now are you bitch? Virtue? You’re just a whore who
don’t know it yet.” The punk said, feeling as Virtues tongue darted out and
began to lick his balls. He looked down into her soft brown eyes and commanded
her. “Suck it slut, if I don’t nut before time runs out, then I will cap these
suckers myself”
The clock said 8:56 she opened her mouth, and devoured the gang bangers hard
black cock. Something inside her rejoiced. Helpless with her arms bound
behind her, the feeling of a hard cock in her mouth made everything okay. She felt
herself pushing down on his cock, lapping at the underside, the pressure inside
her building up.
She felt the cock in her mouth begin to swell, felt and tasted his precum
change, and when he started to spew hot salty cum into her mouth, she lost it.
She came. Her orgasm was so hard the collar and cuffs flashed bright enough to
blind everyone.
Charles laughed softly. She had been sucking for a solid ten minutes and not
noticed the clock resetting every time.
“You dirty whore, you came. Now beg me to reset the clock, and offer me
something else, or the hostages have to pay because you are a slut, not a
superheroine.”
Virtue looked up at Charles, out of his armour now. Standing in shorts, his
leg burns covered his legs like a flame made of too pale flesh, the pins of his
surgery evident to her sense even if others couldn’t see them. The hard
muscles of his body different now, a body reshaped by pain, leaner, twisted,
yet potent in the way only survivors can be. Harder. Harder and stronger than
the thug she beat so easily.
He reached out and stroked her cheek, raised her face, and kissed her eye
lids. He whispered. “I am not your enemy. I am not going to hurt you. You
saved me, and for that, I am going to break you. I am going to own you.”
Something in his words, the contrast of his power, his aggression, the
dominance and savagery he showed and the softness and mercy that flared between
them for just a second broke the last of her resistance.
“You Charles. Please let it be you. Please fuck me Charles. Please, reset
the clock and take me.” Charles had taken the precaution of putting a little
cocaine on his cock head during the festivities. There was zero chance he
could last long enough to break her if he could feel everything full on. I
mean, fuck at seventeen he would have blown his load a few times just watching
her.
Pushing her on her back, hands behind her, Charles took his time. He sucked on
her breasts, letting his hands run all over her body, lazily and casually
showing his ownership. He stroked his fingers along her clit until she was
whimpering, then sucked on her neck as he slid first one, then two fingers
inside her. This was partially to show her he was the master of her body, not
her, and partially because he was willing to lose a finger or two, but not his
cock if she really would tear off whatever was inside her when she came.
“Charles, Charles, CHARLES!!” Virtue screamed as she came again, this time on
his fingers.
“Call me master if you want to feel my cock and earn my cum, baby girl.”
Charles whispered in her ear.
His fingers kept playing her clit, but moving aside and not letting her grind
herself to release, he edged her, teased her, denied her for almost fifteen
minutes while the collar flickered and flashed at the power her pleasure was
jolting through her.
“Please fuck me master, please fuck me. Make me your slut, your whore!”
Virtue begged.
Charles tried to tease her, rubbing his dick over her slit and making her wait,
but she was more animal than human at this point, and she wanted his cock.
Her legs latched around him like hydraulic clamps and drove him into her in a
single thrust that tore a scream out of both of them. She lunged up and sucked
on his nipple as he pounded her without anything resembling technique. He just
drove his cock into her as fast and as hard as he could, thankful that the
cocaine had numbed his cock a bit, because this was half of heaven and all of
hell in her pussy. This was every sinful thought a man could have wrapped in
hot wet silk and velvet as her pussy swallowed his cock with the hunger and sensation
of a snake swallowing its prey. She was not the best fuck he had ever had,
there needed to be a new word for what happened inside her pussy. Charles
roared as he emptied his balls in thrust after thrust, his whole-body
trembling.
He rolled off and she rolled on top to take his softening cock in her mouth,
licking him clean. One of his boys lined up and started to fuck her pussy,
soon sweating and shaking like an addict overdosing as he lost his wad in no
time to the super powered milking machine that was Virtues unsuspected most
potent weapon.
His minions had tagged off and the second was riding her pussy when Charles
cock was sucked back to aching fullness and he was in danger of losing his last
load to her mouth with the battle unsettled.
He looked at her, almost mindless in her pleasure, the simple honest face of a
superheroine now somehow just as innocent with ten inches of black cock in her
mouth. There ought to be a law about being that damned pretty. He wasn’t done
breaking her. Not quite.
“Good girl, you are a good girl for me aren’t you baby girl?” Charles asked,
taking his cock from her mouth, she lapped his balls and whimpered as his
second flunky lost his nut in her sweetness.
“I want to be a good girl for you Master.” Virtue said, the collar shining so
brightly now it was a good thing she was naked or she might set her clothes on
fire. Enough pleasure running through her body to kill every pornohub view on
a work day, or to light all of Texas, but not totally broken yet.
“You saved my ass once Virtue, and that was a mistake. Now I am going to own
your ass.” Charles said.
Rolling her face down, Charles began to spank Virtues ass until it was red,
funny because he could shoot it with a .50 and not leave a mark. Spanking got
to her mind and her body reacted accordingly, bullets just hit skin. Cocks got
all the way in.
Spreading those perfect cheeks, Charles reflected on what his daddy once said
about women. “Son, sometimes you see one that is so fine you would be breaking
the good eating laws not to eat it real good before you fucked it.” Dad wasn’t
much of a poet, but if he saw that ass of hers, he might be inspired.
He dove his tongue into her. Virtue lost her mind. Charles was proud of his
cock, but his tongue is what his ex girlfriends raved about the most. Having a
python in the pants was good, but having a cobra in your mouth was better.
Once they have been snake bit, they would do anything to please you. Now
eating ass was not normally his thing, but Virtues virgin ass was a thing of
perfection. Not gym sculpted, this was a combination of perfect genetics and a
serious work ethic. An ass that belonged on a goddess statue, and he was
spreading its cheeks apart and ravaging it with his tongue.
Virtue had never dreamed of this, could not take it. She begged him to stop,
to go harder, to fuck her. She begged and begged.
“Surrender, and I will fuck you.” Charles said, then drove his tongue back
inside, dancing it around her tight pink rink as his fingers teased her clit,
and retreated before she could press hard enough to get off.
“I surrender, I surrender, please god Charles, fuck my ass!”
He eased his way in, not wanting to hurt
her. Funny on the face of it, considering what he had already done to her, and
what he planned on doing to her, but he couldn’t hate her, and he just wasn’t
the kind to hurt a woman who was giving him pleasure.
Her ass clamped on him like a vice, and was hotter than a woman’s ass should
be. I guess she was super sensitive everywhere, including here. She began to
slam back into him, hard enough to take his breath away. Snarling he half
rose, putting his foot on her face and pressing it into the ground, taking away
her leverage and putting his weight behind every thrust.
Her ass was tight. He drilled her hard, but every thrust was a battle. She
was wrestling his dick with her aft channel and it was the best fuck of his
life. If he hadn’t had her drain his balls so badly they felt like two cups of
pain in a gym bag, he would have lost it almost right away.
Charles was pounding her like the grudge
fuck of a lifetime, right up until she came. He cut the head off a snake once,
when he was a boy, and watching it thrash around was just the smallest shadow
of what happened when Virtue came from having ten inches of pipe drill her
super fine ass.
Good thing his balls were empty, because her ass clamped down so hard on his
poor cock it was only by deflating fully he got it back at all. Virtue was
his.
“Time is up baby girl. You surrendered. You are mine now. I won’t hurt you.
I am going to train you up to serve me right, and then I am going to do us both
a big favour. One thing to remember baby girl, I am not your enemy.”
Fast forward to today. Charles finished
briefing the boys while Overlord played with his new pet.
It took nine days, and half the Lords street gang, and that includes the
chicks, to get her tamed and trained. She isn’t a joke, she is stronger,
faster, and recovers quicker than anyone you have ever seen. No wonder
Overlord never beat her. I swear, street crime in the hood hasn’t been this
low in a fucking blizzard. There isn’t a bad boy or girl in ten blocks has
enough strength left to steal a thousand-dollar bill if you left it in the
middle of the damned sidewalk.
Charles wandered over to the lockers,
which were sealed until the alarms went off. He casually put his beer down and
smiled.
O’Toole looked like he was starting to see a problem, but Qwon was already
babbling.
“Man, I hope I get a chance at her ass. I just got to get a piece of it!”
Quon enthused.
Charles smiled coldly. “I don’t think that is going to happen boys. You see,
the boss and you boys made two mistakes.”
Suddenly a huge boom shook the building,
and alarms began to sound. The alarms caused the weapons lockers to spring
open, and Charles snaked a bandolier of grenades out and kept it in front of
him as he strode to the doors.
“What mistakes?” Asked O’Toole as he grabbed armour and laid it out preparing
to put it on.
“First, the boss should have remembered that pain never could do anything to
Virtue put piss her off.”
A second boom filled the room and the blond head of overlord punched through
the floor, driven by a force enough stronger than him to drive him through the
armoured baffles like a roofer’s nail through shingles.
Charles strode through the door, pulling the pin on the top grenade on the
bandolier, and casually tossing the string back into the room with his former
buddies.
“Second, you shouldn’t have left me to die. Never make me an enemy.” He
slammed the blast door behind him, ignoring the blast that followed.
Walking wearily, and wishing he had brought his cane, he contemplated the long
stairs ahead because the lack of lights made him assume whatever Virtue had
done to Overlord when the sadistic bastard gave her enough pain to wake her all
the way up took out the elevators too.
Some unseen force slammed him against the wall, and he felt his ribs start to
bend.
A hot naked body pressed against him. Two glowing golden brown eyes that
belonged in a hunting falcon or tiger not a naked superheroine burned into his
own.
Speaking softly, Charles said. “I am not your enemy baby girl. But those men
were, and Overlord was. They left me to die, and nobody does that.”
She looked confused, she wanted to kiss me, wanted to kill me, wanted to die,
mostly wanted to be told what to do. I was too tired. She was the one with
the inhuman will and purpose. I just wanted payback and to get out of the
life. I had both. Now I just didn’t have it in me for games.
“Do what you want to me baby girl. I got my revenge, got paid for it, and I am
out of the life. You win. No Overlord, and when your cop friends get done
sucking his computers dry, you will have every dirty cop, politician,
corporation, judge and mob boss tied up in a bow. Kill me if you want, I got
what I wanted.”
I was born an asshole and will die one, so I couldn’t leave it there.
“I owned your ass, and if that is the last thought I have to hold me over an
eternity in the grave I will be rock fucking hard when they dig up my bones. I
have never wanted anyone as much as you, and regret nothing.”
She put her fist through the wall by my head, then kissed me so hard I almost
lost my tongue. Dropping to her knees, she took me in her mouth and gave me a
blow job that would be legendary in hell, as police sirens blared and the
forces of law and order descended for clean up.
Virtue is still a superheroine, still fighting crime and saving the day. She
is also entertaining me and my friends on a regular basis. She comes when she
feels like it but stays collared and leashed until there is no one with enough
body fluids left to survive another round. Nobody says shit. She might let
them live, but I never claimed to be a hero.