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Description

In addition to writing women's wrestling and catfighting stories I also write superheroine stories like this one - see full story below; if you'd like to see more superheroine stories then feel free to say so. The artwork is based on this story and was made by one of my readers as a gift.

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Silent Spring

by DG

            I can’t move a muscle.

            I’m bound tight, dangling in a clear, acrylic prison - on display for my arch enemy as some kind of trophy. A decoration; a symbol of his victory over me. Helpless and humiliated.

            My wrists are bound behind my back, and my sensual moans are muffled by the ball gag in my mouth. I’m stripped down to just my shimmery nude pantyhose (ripped open at the crotch), my blue elbow-length gloves, and my blue taffeta cape. I guess he wanted to keep some of my costume on as a way of rubbing it in, a reminder that I was once a powerful superheroine. I am a superheroine; I just need to get out of here. But how? I can barely even wriggle in these binds, and this see-through cage is very tight. There’s nothing I can do for now, no matter how hard I struggle.

            He removed my white bikini, and if I look up with my eyes I can see my white mask suspended just above my cage: another humiliating symbol of defeat. He also removed my trademark white sandals, and he showed me the news report about how he shipped one of them to the Superheroine Alliance along with a video detailing my unmasking ceremony (the most humiliating moment of my life) and every terrible thing they’ve done to me since I was captured by Dr. Chronos and his henchmen.

            My name is BlueJay, and I am one of the most powerful members of the Superheroine Alliance. My dark hair cascades halfway down my back as I peer out into the chamber with my deep, blue eyes. This seems like some kind of trophy room, as the walls are lined with the tattered costumes of defeated superheroines. I think I’ve been in here for four days, maybe five. I don’t know. There are no windows and no clocks, and time passes slowly in here. I’ve been in terrible predicaments before, but never like this. I’m guessing my chances of rescue are pretty slim, because directly across from me in a similar box is another superheroine named Kestrel – who has been missing and presumed dead for years. She has dirty blonde hair and her costume is like mine except for black gloves, a black cape, and black sandals. Or at least it was, because now she is completely naked with some kind of silver energy beam radiating into her clitoris and nipples. It looks like pure angelite. Based on poor Kestrel’s facial expression I’m not sure if she’s in agony or ecstasy. Probably both at the same time, like what I’ve been experiencing from the angelite dildo deep inside me to match the pasties over my areolas. The bastard also put a rock of solid angelite on a chain around my neck, like a mocking slave necklace that drains my power while making me so sensitive.

            Angelite is the only substance that can de-power all superheroines (we’re all susceptible to angelite, but then each of us has our own, individual weakness that’s usually centered on a specific part of the female anatomy; a villain using angelite directly on our weak spot might be the worst possible thing that could happen to a superheroine). We believed, and reliable sources confirmed this, that the only angelite on earth consisted of small particles that fell from the stars. The world’s entire supply could fit into a lone shoebox. They’ve used so much on me though that they must have discovered a huge new supply of it, and that would be terrible news. Devastating news, actually. It could signal a turning point in the war, a war between superheroines and villains fought behind the scenes in the back alleys and abandoned warehouses of the underworld, one skirmish at a time. We’ve been winning the war, or at least we were, as Chronos has been forcing me to watch news reports about a sharp rise in sudden, unexpected supervillain victories over the past few days.

            And then there are the angelite pasties over my nipples and the vibrating angelite dildo in my pussy, driving me crazy. The dildo hurts most of the time, chafing my vaginal walls and rubbing a studded protuberance against my clit. I’m so sore, and it just keeps getting worse… At night the lights in here dim and all I can hear is the faint whir of the device as countless minutes tick by in agonizing stillness. However, sometimes Chronos himself comes in here and pushes a button on a remote control in his pocket. The pain from the coarseness instantly turns to pleasure, and the intense contrast always gives me a huge, mind blowing orgasm. It feels like I might see God. I’m ashamed to say that they’re some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had in my life, and I only have them in his presence. After this initial orgasm he sometimes shows me more news reports from the outside world. If the report is about something bad, like some of my sisters from the Superheroine Alliance being defeated and captured, then he flicks the switch to make my dildo radiate pleasure. If the news shows something good, like superheroines defeating and arresting a villain, then he makes sure the dildo machine guns my pussy real bad – and it’s excruciating. Then he switches back to pleasure when showing propaganda about him and how great he is. He edges me for a while, tantalizing me, until he ends every session with another orgasm just as intense as the first.

            I know exactly what the bastard is doing, but I’m helpless to stop it. At least for now. I apparently have nothing but time, so I might as well think back to figure out how things went so terribly wrong.

            I came home from work after a long day. I kicked off my high heels and put my stocking feet on the coffee table to finally relax on my couch. As a superheroine I have boundless physical energy, but I can still feel mentally and emotionally drained after a stressful work day like any normal human. It’s important for me to maintain a regular job and a secret identity so I can have a life outside the Superheroine Alliance and its never-ending war with the Supervillain Syndicate. After a few minutes I heard the Alliance’s emergency transponder beeping, and I sighed. I never get a break.

            So I answered the call, and a dispatcher told me that she intercepted a message indicating that my old nemesis, Dr. Chronos, was planning something that night at the congressional library’s national treasure exhibit.

            I was expecting something like that to happen because a group of supervillains recently busted Chronos out of a maximum security prison in a fortified deep sea base. I’ve known that he would be coming here because I’m the one who put him in prison. He beat me up pretty bad during our encounter but I was able to defeat him.

            It was time for me to switch to my alternate life. I got up off the couch, went into my bedroom, and stripped out of my work clothes. I then took out my superheroine costume and started putting it on piece by piece. I sat at the edge of my bed, bunched up the left leg of my shimmering superheroine tights, and slid the smooth nylon and spandex up my leg before repeating this with my right leg. I then put on my white bottoms, my white bikini top, and then my white high heeled sandals. Next, I slipped on my blue gloves followed by my white eye mask. I always feel a sense of pride when putting on my uniform.

            Finally, I stood in front of the mirror as I tied my blue taffeta cape around my neck. When I put on my cape I stop being Julianna Moreno and I become BlueJay, defender of justice.

            I then flew over to the ornate library housing precious national artifacts that would fetch a very high price. I can fly, I can warp sound waves sort of like a bird call, and I’m an expert at many different martial arts, but blue jays in the wild are very good at defending their nests - so my superpowers are mostly defensive in nature. My main power is that I can create an almost impenetrable energy shield around myself and others. Thus, fighting alone is a little out of character for me – but I had a score to settle with this asshole, and I knew how to beat him. As I stand here bound and trapped in my acrylic prison I realize my first mistake: I was overconfident. I should have brought backup with me.

            Anyway, I arrived at the library and immediately knew something was wrong because there were a few downed security guards. I knelt to check their vital signs. Dead. I tried to quell my anger and stay focused as I used an Alliance bypass code to enter the facility. I followed the trail of bodies like a scattered path of bread crumbs, wary for anything.

            I turned and walked down a long corridor, wondering why the alarm wasn’t set off as I tried to soften the clacking of my shoes on the polished floor. I then noticed a few more dead guards right before a conspicuous exhibit in an alcove down the hall and to my left. I used my acutely tuned senses to check for traps, and then walked down there.

            As soon as I entered the alcove I started feeling different, a little woozy and weak. At the time I had no idea what it was, and didn’t even consider angelite, so I kept inspecting the area. The woozy feeling kept getting worse until all of a sudden the wall behind the exhibit disappeared – and I came face to face with my arch enemy for the first time in years. He was surrounded by his black-clad henchmen with Chronos’s trademark purple hourglass on their uniforms. Chronos used his powers of illusion to create a holographic wall. Dr. Chronos wears a black outfit with that hourglass symbol prominently displayed on his chest; he is tall and slightly muscular with short brown hair. My arch enemy is a brilliant scientist who studied tachyon particles, and decided to use himself as an experiment when he flooded himself with tachyons that now give him limited control over time in addition to super strength to match his super intelligence. He can project a tachyon bubble within a brief range around him and within the bubble he can go really fast while slowing enemies or freezing them entirely. It makes him a very, very difficult villain to beat.

              I hate the bastard so much that I immediately went for him, ignoring his henchmen who might as well be gnats. However, instead of going after me in kind Chronos removed the exhibit’s lid, and the ancient government document flickered out and became a glittering silver rock a little smaller than my fist, attached to a chain necklace. I gasped upon noticing the largest chunk of angelite I’ve ever seen.

            The distraction allowed Chronos to ensnare me in a tachyon bubble, and I groaned from innumerable rapid fire punches to my bare belly. I was frozen in time and he was beating me senseless. I counteracted his bubble with a defensive burst of my own, and was able to jump back out of range. But the angelite was just too much, and I was fading. I knew I had to act quickly before it drained my power. I tossed a bunch of his henchmen aside, smashing them into walls, and then I punished Chronos with birdcall sound waves. I knocked him back against the exhibit stand; his body knocked it over but he managed to grab the angelite rock. By now I was swarmed by his henchmen, and I was having trouble fighting them off from getting weaker by the second. A few of them delivered shots that actually hurt me. This allowed Chronos to walk up close and get me in range. In desperation I used my draining strength to fling away his men and lunge at him. I got in a few hard punches but he withstood them, smirked, and then trapped me in a tachyon bubble. I was helpless, just like now.

            His henchmen then had their way with me, pounding me all over – hammering me in the breasts, belly, back, face… with countless knees, kicks, and uppercuts to the crotch. After I was pretty subdued with his men holding me up Chronos’s smirk turned into a full blown grin and he touched me with the angelite rock, and then caressed my body with it like a hot stone during a spa treatment. I quivered as I could literally feel what was left of my energy being sucked out like air from a punctured balloon. It made me so… sensitive. Everything he did to me from that point on was multiplied a hundred times.

            Chronos handed the rock to his top henchmen and then moved in to beat the living fuck out of me. I tried to fight back but my feeble attempts were nothing more than glorified slaps. He pounded my belly so many times so fast that his fists were a blur. He hammered my face, breasts, and crotch. Chronos is really strong and the angelite made me so sensitive that every blow hurt really bad. He eventually picked me up and slammed me into the floor so hard that it left a crater, and then he stomped my belly several times before grabbing my ankles, spreading my legs, and stomping my crotch hard several times. My body shuddered after each painful thrust of his heel to my increasingly sensitive pussy.

            He finally reached down, grabbed my hair, and lifted me up to my feet on wobbly legs. The bastard gripped me, lifted me up over his head, and held me up like that as his henchmen watched with glee and cheered him on, taking me in with their lascivious gazes. Chronos then extended his right knee… and dumped by back as hard as he could across his knee for the worst backbreaker I’ve ever taken. My body was arched across his knee with my blue cape draping the floor. I was gasping in pain like a beached fish. He clasped his fists together, walloped my sore tummy, and then unceremoniously shoved me off his knee. I rolled across the floor.

            His men grabbed my hair and pulled me up to my feet, holding me up limp like a puppet to end what was easily the worst beating of my life. I was defeated.

            Now it was time for my enslavement, and my humiliation. I shiver in my box of torment thinking about it now. Chronos took the angelite chain necklace, walked up to me, made an assertive gaze right into my eyes to communicate my defeat without saying a word, and then he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me down to my knees in a subservient position. He then slowly lowered the angelite necklace and placed it around my neck, letting the energy-draining rock dangle just above my breasts. I felt even weaker as soon as he put it on. He followed up on the depowering necklace by putting a ball gag in my mouth. He then called over one of his henchmen, took a metal slave collar with a chain leash extending from it, and put the collar around my throat while I struggled as much as I could (which wasn’t much).

            After enslaving me, he slammed me across the back to make me fall forward onto all fours, and then he used the chain leash to lead me around on my hands and knees like a dog while his top henchmen held up my cape and whipped my ass with a studded leather strap – making a loud smack every time. I squealed and fluttered a little from each blow as I crawled around, bristling from humiliation. He made me crawl with my ass being whipped until he tired of it, and then he led me on all fours to his waiting hovercopter, where he put me in shackles and a blindfold for the flight back to his lair.

            After getting to his lair his henchmen prodded me down a corridor, and when they took my blindfold off I noticed I was in what looked like a small television studio. They didn’t waste any time humiliating me. Chronos maneuvered me in front of a camera, removed my shackles, and whispered into my ear that my degradation was going to be streamed live all over the world. And we were on the air. I stood there, helpless, as he yanked off my white bikini top just below the dangling angelite rock, baring my breasts to the world. Next he made me lift up my left foot and he removed my high heeled sandal, followed by my right one – slowly and sensually slipping them off like Cinderella with her glass slipper. He then made me slither out of my white bottoms, shimmying them down my nylon legs and off of me. Finally, Chronos stepped up and started rubbing me between my legs. I struggled with his men holding my arms, but to no avail. After I got a little wet in spite of myself, with a visible wet spot seeping through my nylons, he grabbed my pantyhose at the crotch and ripped them open. I could see on the monitor that the camera got a close up of my neat little strip of dark pubic hair, for all the world to see. Humiliating.

            He then shoved me into a chair, handcuffed my wrists, and bound my ankles. He started slowly moving his powerful hands to my face, and I struggled in my binds because I knew what was coming next. He grabbed my white mask as I grunted in protest through my ball gag. I was so weak I could barely move. With a wide grin he slowly removed my mask, revealing the face of Julianna Moreno – with tears welling up in her eyes and her makeup starting to run. Some of his men then took pictures of my true identity, and I was mesmerized by blinding camera flashes as I tried turning away. Chronos grabbed my cheeks though and held me steady for the cameras as he said, “Smile, bitch” right into my ear.

            With my mask off it was time for Chronos to seal the deal on my humiliation. He took out a “Venus Butterfly” style vibrator and strapped it onto me, then switched it on maximum. I sat there bound in my chair trying to fight it, but couldn’t resist as the tension built and built… until I came hard, shivering with ecstasy live in front of millions of viewers.

            The people who I swore to protect had to watch the degradation of one of their greatest heroines, live and in high definition.

            I spent the next month as Chronos’s slave. It was a month of pure, unadulterated Hell – by far the worst time of my life.

            They tortured me. I’ve been tortured before (most superheroines are at some point) and I can take a lot, but this time they really pushed my limits. They kept telling me to reveal the weaknesses of other Alliance heroines, but I would never betray my sisters no matter what they put me through. I’m just glad they don’t seem to know my ultimate weakness; they sometimes targeted that spot randomly, but I tried to hide how much it affects me. I don’t know what I would do if they ever directly used angelite on my weak spot. It would be unbearable.

            I found it odd that Chronos only attended the sessions with sexual torment, but now I realize that he’s conditioning me to associate him with pleasure while associating everything else with pain. The son of a bitch. He was there when they hooked me up to a rapid fire dildo machine and left me writhing in unwanted pleasure for six hours. He caressed my hair and whispered dominant statements into my ear each time I shivered from the machine drawing yet another intense, forced, rippling orgasm from me. Another time Chronos watched and whispered into my ear as I squirmed on an angelite sybian, in an altered state of consciousness from one weakening orgasm after another – as soon as one would end then the next one started building. It drove me crazy.

            The worst night though was when Chronos had a party with his supervillain friends. Myself and two other captured superheroines were forced to serve his guests in our slave collars, angelite necklaces, and tattered costumes; a few of the guests were villains I’ve defeated before, and they were anxious to get their revenge. I had to walk around with trays and everything else, and they took every opportunity to punish and humiliate us. Chronos bragged out loud about how easy it was for him to defeat and capture me, and he showed me off like a prize. The evening got wilder and wilder as it progressed, and the party culminated in a sort of auction. They made us stand like statues on a small stage as the villains ogled us and inspected us like cattle, slapping our asses and groping us as much as they could. Then they started bidding to see which ones would “win” us for the rest of the night. It was horrible.

            I apparently fetched the largest price, from a group of diabolical villains who pooled their considerable money together. They took me into a bondage room and dumped me on a loveseat in a corner with my legs draped across the arms to either side; they bound my wrists above my head in dangling handcuffs. So I was helpless with my legs draped across the sides of a cushioned chair in nothing but my gloves, cape, and shredded pantyhose – with the angelite rock still around my neck of course. They replaced my ball gag with an “o” gag so they could fuck my mouth like a vagina, and then they had their way with me. All. Night. Long. I lost track of how many orgasms they forced from me. By the end of this terrible night I was covered in come from some of my worst enemies.

            A few days later Chronos walked me into this trophy chamber, stood me right in front of my clear prison (which was on the ground at the time), put the angelite dildo into my vagina and the angelite pasties over my areolas, and bound me tighter than I’ve ever been bound in my life. He then shoved me in, closed the box, hoisted it up, and placed me against the wall as a living decoration.

            That brings us back to the present, as I stand in here bound and helpless for who knows how long.



            I’ve now been in this display case for well over a week. Being frozen like this day after day is worse than any physical torture they could ever inflict on me. Chronos comes into the room for one of his random visits, and I can’t help feeling a rush of excitement. I instantly get wetter knowing what to expect… and I gasp as he flicks his remote control to make the accursed angelite dildo give me unparalleled pleasure. I writhe as much as I can in my tight bondage until I come so hard that I see stars. My body is betraying me more and more, but my mind is still together enough to know that this is merely the next step in my conditioning – which will start turning me into his personal pleasure puppet if I don’t get out of here somehow.

            Then he does something unexpected: he lowers my acrylic cage down to the floor, and opens it. I’m free from the box after being in there for more than a week. My weary body topples forward into his arms, and he hoists me onto his powerful shoulders (still in my binds) to carry me somewhere else.

            He takes me into a dimly lit room that I’ve never been in before, deep in the lowest levels of his dungeon. There is a rectangular table in the center before a red curtain; I can hear slight rustling and faint, muffled moans from behind the curtain. Chronos stands me up and has his henchmen hold me while he strips off the rest of my costume (but first he removes the angelite dildo from my pussy, and I gasp in relief after he takes it out). He slips off my right glove, and tosses it aside. My arm is so limp from angelite that I can’t resist at all. He then slips off my left glove. Next, Dr. Chronos grabs the waist band of my shredded pantyhose and slithers them down my legs until ordering me to obediently step out of them, which I do. He tosses them onto the small pile of costume remnants. I’m now standing before my tormentor in nothing but my blue cape. I guess he wants to leave it on so he can keep rubbing in my defeat.

            Chronos then picks me up in his arms, lays me on the table, and binds my wrists and ankles so that I’m spread eagle with my limbs like an “x”. I’m directly facing the curtain, and I have an ominous feeling about this. He grabs my hair and lifts my head up (forcing me to watch) and then whispers, “I have a surprise for you, super slave…” right into my ear.

            Chronos nods at a henchman who pulls a rope, and the curtain opens… revealing the bound and tormented body of my sidekick, Oriole. I cry out, “No… no” upon seeing her, knowing that she probably got herself captured trying to rescue me. Chronos confirms this when he explains how my sidekick and best friend was captured investigating my disappearance. She was apparently depowered by angelite, and defeated easily. My sidekick has a history of getting herself into trouble, although not as often as Lunar Girl’s sidekick Moonbeam - who has the dubious distinction of being captured more often than any other superheroine.

            Oriole has slightly curly, reddish hair that goes about hallway down her back. She has on a black mask, black elbow-length gloves, a black cape, and sheer beige tights that are slightly darker and more shimmery than mine; her tights are of course ripped open at the crotch. She normally has a bright orange metallic sheen bikini and black boots but those parts of her costume have been removed (and are probably being kept as trophies). Poor Oriole (who emits muffled moans through her ball gag) is splayed out with her legs lifted up and spread. Her wrists are bound to her legs so that her limbs form a diamond. Angelite clamps spread out her labia while another is snagged onto her clit. Finally, a crackling, electrified orange violet wand dildo is fucking her like a piston. Chronos does a demonstration by increasing the intensity of the dildo, and Oriole’s moans intensify… until she comes with her body quivering in its binds. My heart breaks for her. How long has she been like this?

            Chronos goes back to my ear and says (while grabbing my hair), “I should tell you, BlueJay, that your loyal sidekick broke after only three days of torture – and she revealed your weak spot to us. I will now use angelite on your sensitive clit… until you’re mine.”

            I try not to look too frightened, but Chronos finding out my weak spot is the worst possible thing that could have happened. I shudder to think at what he’s going to do to me now.

            The son of a bitch positions some type of hose or tube directly above my clit, as I lie there helpless in nothing but my blue cape. He says, “Syndicate scientists have been studying angelite in more depth ever since we found an enormous new stash of it, and they’ve discovered that angelite is most potent in liquid form. You should survive this, but if you don’t we can always experiment on your precious partner. Enjoy, BlueJay.”

            He then flicks a switch, and I hear the machine starting. A drop of liquid angelite gets ready to drip from the nozzle just above my clit. I brace myself for the worst pain of my life, but it turns out to be just the opposite… unbelievable pleasure. Oh, the fucking bastard. The droplets of liquid angelite increase to a thin, steady stream… and it feels… oh my God… oh my fucking God… it builds, and I’m losing control of myself. Losing control of everything. My mind starts drifting as I feel the stream of liquid caress my ultimate weak spot, and the most erotic imagery I can think of explodes through my mind like a fireworks display.

            The feeling builds, and builds, and builds… until… oh my God… oh my God… ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGod… mmmmmmmmmmm… unnnnnhhhh… oh… oh… MMMMMMMMMMMMM…

            An Earth-shattering orgasm floods me. Indescribable. My entire body, my entire existence undulates on that table until the elation of afterglow floats me down. Exhausted.

            When it finally subsides I notice a giant wet spot on my cape from the most intense orgasm of my entire life. The fucking bastard. I absolutely cannot stand this. I can’t stand it. It’s like he’s discovered the key to my deepest, darkest psyche and can manipulate me however he wants. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist this liquid angelite on my clit, and maintain my sense of self. He just keeps it up though. I can’t take much more…

            A few months have passed, and I couldn’t be any happier. I don’t know why I ever complained before. Life is so much better.

            I spend my days serving my new master, and doing whatever he asks me to do. I sometimes make mistakes, like the time I was serving drinks to him and his friends in the skimpy French maid outfit that he likes (with black fishnets and an angelite clitoral vibrator controlled by him). The stimulation suddenly increased as I was walking with their drinks and I spilled the tray. I was so embarrassed, and I immediately dropped to my knees to clean up my mess. He punished me for that, and I deserved it.

            He’s good to me most of the time though, and rewards me when I please him – which makes me so happy. I can’t believe I used to think he was evil; I now realize that he’s a great man, and he just wants to make the world better in his own way. I miss him so much when he leaves for days at a time; it makes me so sad.

            Once in a while another superheroine from the Alliance will show up here in chains, to join our home. They sometimes look at me with tears in their eyes and tell me crazy, confusing things like, “I’m not myself”. I don’t know what they’re talking about because I’m more myself than I’ve ever been. My master sometimes sits me down and asks me questions, and I’m overjoyed by his attention. He usually asks me if I know about the weaknesses of certain superheroines, and I’m always completely open and honest with him. If I don’t know anything then I say so, but if I do then I tell him everything I know right down to the last, minute detail. He rewards me after that by dripping the liquid angelite on my sensitive spot until I writhe in ecstasy, but he doesn’t need to do that because making him happy is the best reward.

            I love to please my master.

Description

In addition to writing women's wrestling and catfighting stories I also write superheroine stories like this one - see full story below; if you'd like to see more superheroine stories then feel free to say so. The artwork is based on this story and was made by one of my readers as a gift.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silent Spring

by DG

            I can’t move a muscle.

            I’m bound tight, dangling in a clear, acrylic prison - on display for my arch enemy as some kind of trophy. A decoration; a symbol of his victory over me. Helpless and humiliated.

            My wrists are bound behind my back, and my sensual moans are muffled by the ball gag in my mouth. I’m stripped down to just my shimmery nude pantyhose (ripped open at the crotch), my blue elbow-length gloves, and my blue taffeta cape. I guess he wanted to keep some of my costume on as a way of rubbing it in, a reminder that I was once a powerful superheroine. I am a superheroine; I just need to get out of here. But how? I can barely even wriggle in these binds, and this see-through cage is very tight. There’s nothing I can do for now, no matter how hard I struggle.

            He removed my white bikini, and if I look up with my eyes I can see my white mask suspended just above my cage: another humiliating symbol of defeat. He also removed my trademark white sandals, and he showed me the news report about how he shipped one of them to the Superheroine Alliance along with a video detailing my unmasking ceremony (the most humiliating moment of my life) and every terrible thing they’ve done to me since I was captured by Dr. Chronos and his henchmen.

            My name is BlueJay, and I am one of the most powerful members of the Superheroine Alliance. My dark hair cascades halfway down my back as I peer out into the chamber with my deep, blue eyes. This seems like some kind of trophy room, as the walls are lined with the tattered costumes of defeated superheroines. I think I’ve been in here for four days, maybe five. I don’t know. There are no windows and no clocks, and time passes slowly in here. I’ve been in terrible predicaments before, but never like this. I’m guessing my chances of rescue are pretty slim, because directly across from me in a similar box is another superheroine named Kestrel – who has been missing and presumed dead for years. She has dirty blonde hair and her costume is like mine except for black gloves, a black cape, and black sandals. Or at least it was, because now she is completely naked with some kind of silver energy beam radiating into her clitoris and nipples. It looks like pure angelite. Based on poor Kestrel’s facial expression I’m not sure if she’s in agony or ecstasy. Probably both at the same time, like what I’ve been experiencing from the angelite dildo deep inside me to match the pasties over my areolas. The bastard also put a rock of solid angelite on a chain around my neck, like a mocking slave necklace that drains my power while making me so sensitive.

            Angelite is the only substance that can de-power all superheroines (we’re all susceptible to angelite, but then each of us has our own, individual weakness that’s usually centered on a specific part of the female anatomy; a villain using angelite directly on our weak spot might be the worst possible thing that could happen to a superheroine). We believed, and reliable sources confirmed this, that the only angelite on earth consisted of small particles that fell from the stars. The world’s entire supply could fit into a lone shoebox. They’ve used so much on me though that they must have discovered a huge new supply of it, and that would be terrible news. Devastating news, actually. It could signal a turning point in the war, a war between superheroines and villains fought behind the scenes in the back alleys and abandoned warehouses of the underworld, one skirmish at a time. We’ve been winning the war, or at least we were, as Chronos has been forcing me to watch news reports about a sharp rise in sudden, unexpected supervillain victories over the past few days.

            And then there are the angelite pasties over my nipples and the vibrating angelite dildo in my pussy, driving me crazy. The dildo hurts most of the time, chafing my vaginal walls and rubbing a studded protuberance against my clit. I’m so sore, and it just keeps getting worse… At night the lights in here dim and all I can hear is the faint whir of the device as countless minutes tick by in agonizing stillness. However, sometimes Chronos himself comes in here and pushes a button on a remote control in his pocket. The pain from the coarseness instantly turns to pleasure, and the intense contrast always gives me a huge, mind blowing orgasm. It feels like I might see God. I’m ashamed to say that they’re some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had in my life, and I only have them in his presence. After this initial orgasm he sometimes shows me more news reports from the outside world. If the report is about something bad, like some of my sisters from the Superheroine Alliance being defeated and captured, then he flicks the switch to make my dildo radiate pleasure. If the news shows something good, like superheroines defeating and arresting a villain, then he makes sure the dildo machine guns my pussy real bad – and it’s excruciating. Then he switches back to pleasure when showing propaganda about him and how great he is. He edges me for a while, tantalizing me, until he ends every session with another orgasm just as intense as the first.

            I know exactly what the bastard is doing, but I’m helpless to stop it. At least for now. I apparently have nothing but time, so I might as well think back to figure out how things went so terribly wrong.

            I came home from work after a long day. I kicked off my high heels and put my stocking feet on the coffee table to finally relax on my couch. As a superheroine I have boundless physical energy, but I can still feel mentally and emotionally drained after a stressful work day like any normal human. It’s important for me to maintain a regular job and a secret identity so I can have a life outside the Superheroine Alliance and its never-ending war with the Supervillain Syndicate. After a few minutes I heard the Alliance’s emergency transponder beeping, and I sighed. I never get a break.

            So I answered the call, and a dispatcher told me that she intercepted a message indicating that my old nemesis, Dr. Chronos, was planning something that night at the congressional library’s national treasure exhibit.

            I was expecting something like that to happen because a group of supervillains recently busted Chronos out of a maximum security prison in a fortified deep sea base. I’ve known that he would be coming here because I’m the one who put him in prison. He beat me up pretty bad during our encounter but I was able to defeat him.

            It was time for me to switch to my alternate life. I got up off the couch, went into my bedroom, and stripped out of my work clothes. I then took out my superheroine costume and started putting it on piece by piece. I sat at the edge of my bed, bunched up the left leg of my shimmering superheroine tights, and slid the smooth nylon and spandex up my leg before repeating this with my right leg. I then put on my white bottoms, my white bikini top, and then my white high heeled sandals. Next, I slipped on my blue gloves followed by my white eye mask. I always feel a sense of pride when putting on my uniform.

            Finally, I stood in front of the mirror as I tied my blue taffeta cape around my neck. When I put on my cape I stop being Julianna Moreno and I become BlueJay, defender of justice.

            I then flew over to the ornate library housing precious national artifacts that would fetch a very high price. I can fly, I can warp sound waves sort of like a bird call, and I’m an expert at many different martial arts, but blue jays in the wild are very good at defending their nests - so my superpowers are mostly defensive in nature. My main power is that I can create an almost impenetrable energy shield around myself and others. Thus, fighting alone is a little out of character for me – but I had a score to settle with this asshole, and I knew how to beat him. As I stand here bound and trapped in my acrylic prison I realize my first mistake: I was overconfident. I should have brought backup with me.

            Anyway, I arrived at the library and immediately knew something was wrong because there were a few downed security guards. I knelt to check their vital signs. Dead. I tried to quell my anger and stay focused as I used an Alliance bypass code to enter the facility. I followed the trail of bodies like a scattered path of bread crumbs, wary for anything.

            I turned and walked down a long corridor, wondering why the alarm wasn’t set off as I tried to soften the clacking of my shoes on the polished floor. I then noticed a few more dead guards right before a conspicuous exhibit in an alcove down the hall and to my left. I used my acutely tuned senses to check for traps, and then walked down there.

            As soon as I entered the alcove I started feeling different, a little woozy and weak. At the time I had no idea what it was, and didn’t even consider angelite, so I kept inspecting the area. The woozy feeling kept getting worse until all of a sudden the wall behind the exhibit disappeared – and I came face to face with my arch enemy for the first time in years. He was surrounded by his black-clad henchmen with Chronos’s trademark purple hourglass on their uniforms. Chronos used his powers of illusion to create a holographic wall. Dr. Chronos wears a black outfit with that hourglass symbol prominently displayed on his chest; he is tall and slightly muscular with short brown hair. My arch enemy is a brilliant scientist who studied tachyon particles, and decided to use himself as an experiment when he flooded himself with tachyons that now give him limited control over time in addition to super strength to match his super intelligence. He can project a tachyon bubble within a brief range around him and within the bubble he can go really fast while slowing enemies or freezing them entirely. It makes him a very, very difficult villain to beat.

              I hate the bastard so much that I immediately went for him, ignoring his henchmen who might as well be gnats. However, instead of going after me in kind Chronos removed the exhibit’s lid, and the ancient government document flickered out and became a glittering silver rock a little smaller than my fist, attached to a chain necklace. I gasped upon noticing the largest chunk of angelite I’ve ever seen.

            The distraction allowed Chronos to ensnare me in a tachyon bubble, and I groaned from innumerable rapid fire punches to my bare belly. I was frozen in time and he was beating me senseless. I counteracted his bubble with a defensive burst of my own, and was able to jump back out of range. But the angelite was just too much, and I was fading. I knew I had to act quickly before it drained my power. I tossed a bunch of his henchmen aside, smashing them into walls, and then I punished Chronos with birdcall sound waves. I knocked him back against the exhibit stand; his body knocked it over but he managed to grab the angelite rock. By now I was swarmed by his henchmen, and I was having trouble fighting them off from getting weaker by the second. A few of them delivered shots that actually hurt me. This allowed Chronos to walk up close and get me in range. In desperation I used my draining strength to fling away his men and lunge at him. I got in a few hard punches but he withstood them, smirked, and then trapped me in a tachyon bubble. I was helpless, just like now.

            His henchmen then had their way with me, pounding me all over – hammering me in the breasts, belly, back, face… with countless knees, kicks, and uppercuts to the crotch. After I was pretty subdued with his men holding me up Chronos’s smirk turned into a full blown grin and he touched me with the angelite rock, and then caressed my body with it like a hot stone during a spa treatment. I quivered as I could literally feel what was left of my energy being sucked out like air from a punctured balloon. It made me so… sensitive. Everything he did to me from that point on was multiplied a hundred times.

            Chronos handed the rock to his top henchmen and then moved in to beat the living fuck out of me. I tried to fight back but my feeble attempts were nothing more than glorified slaps. He pounded my belly so many times so fast that his fists were a blur. He hammered my face, breasts, and crotch. Chronos is really strong and the angelite made me so sensitive that every blow hurt really bad. He eventually picked me up and slammed me into the floor so hard that it left a crater, and then he stomped my belly several times before grabbing my ankles, spreading my legs, and stomping my crotch hard several times. My body shuddered after each painful thrust of his heel to my increasingly sensitive pussy.

            He finally reached down, grabbed my hair, and lifted me up to my feet on wobbly legs. The bastard gripped me, lifted me up over his head, and held me up like that as his henchmen watched with glee and cheered him on, taking me in with their lascivious gazes. Chronos then extended his right knee… and dumped by back as hard as he could across his knee for the worst backbreaker I’ve ever taken. My body was arched across his knee with my blue cape draping the floor. I was gasping in pain like a beached fish. He clasped his fists together, walloped my sore tummy, and then unceremoniously shoved me off his knee. I rolled across the floor.

            His men grabbed my hair and pulled me up to my feet, holding me up limp like a puppet to end what was easily the worst beating of my life. I was defeated.

            Now it was time for my enslavement, and my humiliation. I shiver in my box of torment thinking about it now. Chronos took the angelite chain necklace, walked up to me, made an assertive gaze right into my eyes to communicate my defeat without saying a word, and then he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me down to my knees in a subservient position. He then slowly lowered the angelite necklace and placed it around my neck, letting the energy-draining rock dangle just above my breasts. I felt even weaker as soon as he put it on. He followed up on the depowering necklace by putting a ball gag in my mouth. He then called over one of his henchmen, took a metal slave collar with a chain leash extending from it, and put the collar around my throat while I struggled as much as I could (which wasn’t much).

            After enslaving me, he slammed me across the back to make me fall forward onto all fours, and then he used the chain leash to lead me around on my hands and knees like a dog while his top henchmen held up my cape and whipped my ass with a studded leather strap – making a loud smack every time. I squealed and fluttered a little from each blow as I crawled around, bristling from humiliation. He made me crawl with my ass being whipped until he tired of it, and then he led me on all fours to his waiting hovercopter, where he put me in shackles and a blindfold for the flight back to his lair.

            After getting to his lair his henchmen prodded me down a corridor, and when they took my blindfold off I noticed I was in what looked like a small television studio. They didn’t waste any time humiliating me. Chronos maneuvered me in front of a camera, removed my shackles, and whispered into my ear that my degradation was going to be streamed live all over the world. And we were on the air. I stood there, helpless, as he yanked off my white bikini top just below the dangling angelite rock, baring my breasts to the world. Next he made me lift up my left foot and he removed my high heeled sandal, followed by my right one – slowly and sensually slipping them off like Cinderella with her glass slipper. He then made me slither out of my white bottoms, shimmying them down my nylon legs and off of me. Finally, Chronos stepped up and started rubbing me between my legs. I struggled with his men holding my arms, but to no avail. After I got a little wet in spite of myself, with a visible wet spot seeping through my nylons, he grabbed my pantyhose at the crotch and ripped them open. I could see on the monitor that the camera got a close up of my neat little strip of dark pubic hair, for all the world to see. Humiliating.

            He then shoved me into a chair, handcuffed my wrists, and bound my ankles. He started slowly moving his powerful hands to my face, and I struggled in my binds because I knew what was coming next. He grabbed my white mask as I grunted in protest through my ball gag. I was so weak I could barely move. With a wide grin he slowly removed my mask, revealing the face of Julianna Moreno – with tears welling up in her eyes and her makeup starting to run. Some of his men then took pictures of my true identity, and I was mesmerized by blinding camera flashes as I tried turning away. Chronos grabbed my cheeks though and held me steady for the cameras as he said, “Smile, bitch” right into my ear.

            With my mask off it was time for Chronos to seal the deal on my humiliation. He took out a “Venus Butterfly” style vibrator and strapped it onto me, then switched it on maximum. I sat there bound in my chair trying to fight it, but couldn’t resist as the tension built and built… until I came hard, shivering with ecstasy live in front of millions of viewers.

            The people who I swore to protect had to watch the degradation of one of their greatest heroines, live and in high definition.

            I spent the next month as Chronos’s slave. It was a month of pure, unadulterated Hell – by far the worst time of my life.

            They tortured me. I’ve been tortured before (most superheroines are at some point) and I can take a lot, but this time they really pushed my limits. They kept telling me to reveal the weaknesses of other Alliance heroines, but I would never betray my sisters no matter what they put me through. I’m just glad they don’t seem to know my ultimate weakness; they sometimes targeted that spot randomly, but I tried to hide how much it affects me. I don’t know what I would do if they ever directly used angelite on my weak spot. It would be unbearable.

            I found it odd that Chronos only attended the sessions with sexual torment, but now I realize that he’s conditioning me to associate him with pleasure while associating everything else with pain. The son of a bitch. He was there when they hooked me up to a rapid fire dildo machine and left me writhing in unwanted pleasure for six hours. He caressed my hair and whispered dominant statements into my ear each time I shivered from the machine drawing yet another intense, forced, rippling orgasm from me. Another time Chronos watched and whispered into my ear as I squirmed on an angelite sybian, in an altered state of consciousness from one weakening orgasm after another – as soon as one would end then the next one started building. It drove me crazy.

            The worst night though was when Chronos had a party with his supervillain friends. Myself and two other captured superheroines were forced to serve his guests in our slave collars, angelite necklaces, and tattered costumes; a few of the guests were villains I’ve defeated before, and they were anxious to get their revenge. I had to walk around with trays and everything else, and they took every opportunity to punish and humiliate us. Chronos bragged out loud about how easy it was for him to defeat and capture me, and he showed me off like a prize. The evening got wilder and wilder as it progressed, and the party culminated in a sort of auction. They made us stand like statues on a small stage as the villains ogled us and inspected us like cattle, slapping our asses and groping us as much as they could. Then they started bidding to see which ones would “win” us for the rest of the night. It was horrible.

            I apparently fetched the largest price, from a group of diabolical villains who pooled their considerable money together. They took me into a bondage room and dumped me on a loveseat in a corner with my legs draped across the arms to either side; they bound my wrists above my head in dangling handcuffs. So I was helpless with my legs draped across the sides of a cushioned chair in nothing but my gloves, cape, and shredded pantyhose – with the angelite rock still around my neck of course. They replaced my ball gag with an “o” gag so they could fuck my mouth like a vagina, and then they had their way with me. All. Night. Long. I lost track of how many orgasms they forced from me. By the end of this terrible night I was covered in come from some of my worst enemies.

            A few days later Chronos walked me into this trophy chamber, stood me right in front of my clear prison (which was on the ground at the time), put the angelite dildo into my vagina and the angelite pasties over my areolas, and bound me tighter than I’ve ever been bound in my life. He then shoved me in, closed the box, hoisted it up, and placed me against the wall as a living decoration.

            That brings us back to the present, as I stand in here bound and helpless for who knows how long.



            I’ve now been in this display case for well over a week. Being frozen like this day after day is worse than any physical torture they could ever inflict on me. Chronos comes into the room for one of his random visits, and I can’t help feeling a rush of excitement. I instantly get wetter knowing what to expect… and I gasp as he flicks his remote control to make the accursed angelite dildo give me unparalleled pleasure. I writhe as much as I can in my tight bondage until I come so hard that I see stars. My body is betraying me more and more, but my mind is still together enough to know that this is merely the next step in my conditioning – which will start turning me into his personal pleasure puppet if I don’t get out of here somehow.

            Then he does something unexpected: he lowers my acrylic cage down to the floor, and opens it. I’m free from the box after being in there for more than a week. My weary body topples forward into his arms, and he hoists me onto his powerful shoulders (still in my binds) to carry me somewhere else.

            He takes me into a dimly lit room that I’ve never been in before, deep in the lowest levels of his dungeon. There is a rectangular table in the center before a red curtain; I can hear slight rustling and faint, muffled moans from behind the curtain. Chronos stands me up and has his henchmen hold me while he strips off the rest of my costume (but first he removes the angelite dildo from my pussy, and I gasp in relief after he takes it out). He slips off my right glove, and tosses it aside. My arm is so limp from angelite that I can’t resist at all. He then slips off my left glove. Next, Dr. Chronos grabs the waist band of my shredded pantyhose and slithers them down my legs until ordering me to obediently step out of them, which I do. He tosses them onto the small pile of costume remnants. I’m now standing before my tormentor in nothing but my blue cape. I guess he wants to leave it on so he can keep rubbing in my defeat.

            Chronos then picks me up in his arms, lays me on the table, and binds my wrists and ankles so that I’m spread eagle with my limbs like an “x”. I’m directly facing the curtain, and I have an ominous feeling about this. He grabs my hair and lifts my head up (forcing me to watch) and then whispers, “I have a surprise for you, super slave…” right into my ear.

            Chronos nods at a henchman who pulls a rope, and the curtain opens… revealing the bound and tormented body of my sidekick, Oriole. I cry out, “No… no” upon seeing her, knowing that she probably got herself captured trying to rescue me. Chronos confirms this when he explains how my sidekick and best friend was captured investigating my disappearance. She was apparently depowered by angelite, and defeated easily. My sidekick has a history of getting herself into trouble, although not as often as Lunar Girl’s sidekick Moonbeam - who has the dubious distinction of being captured more often than any other superheroine.

            Oriole has slightly curly, reddish hair that goes about hallway down her back. She has on a black mask, black elbow-length gloves, a black cape, and sheer beige tights that are slightly darker and more shimmery than mine; her tights are of course ripped open at the crotch. She normally has a bright orange metallic sheen bikini and black boots but those parts of her costume have been removed (and are probably being kept as trophies). Poor Oriole (who emits muffled moans through her ball gag) is splayed out with her legs lifted up and spread. Her wrists are bound to her legs so that her limbs form a diamond. Angelite clamps spread out her labia while another is snagged onto her clit. Finally, a crackling, electrified orange violet wand dildo is fucking her like a piston. Chronos does a demonstration by increasing the intensity of the dildo, and Oriole’s moans intensify… until she comes with her body quivering in its binds. My heart breaks for her. How long has she been like this?

            Chronos goes back to my ear and says (while grabbing my hair), “I should tell you, BlueJay, that your loyal sidekick broke after only three days of torture – and she revealed your weak spot to us. I will now use angelite on your sensitive clit… until you’re mine.”

            I try not to look too frightened, but Chronos finding out my weak spot is the worst possible thing that could have happened. I shudder to think at what he’s going to do to me now.

            The son of a bitch positions some type of hose or tube directly above my clit, as I lie there helpless in nothing but my blue cape. He says, “Syndicate scientists have been studying angelite in more depth ever since we found an enormous new stash of it, and they’ve discovered that angelite is most potent in liquid form. You should survive this, but if you don’t we can always experiment on your precious partner. Enjoy, BlueJay.”

            He then flicks a switch, and I hear the machine starting. A drop of liquid angelite gets ready to drip from the nozzle just above my clit. I brace myself for the worst pain of my life, but it turns out to be just the opposite… unbelievable pleasure. Oh, the fucking bastard. The droplets of liquid angelite increase to a thin, steady stream… and it feels… oh my God… oh my fucking God… it builds, and I’m losing control of myself. Losing control of everything. My mind starts drifting as I feel the stream of liquid caress my ultimate weak spot, and the most erotic imagery I can think of explodes through my mind like a fireworks display.

            The feeling builds, and builds, and builds… until… oh my God… oh my God… ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGod… mmmmmmmmmmm… unnnnnhhhh… oh… oh… MMMMMMMMMMMMM…

            An Earth-shattering orgasm floods me. Indescribable. My entire body, my entire existence undulates on that table until the elation of afterglow floats me down. Exhausted.

            When it finally subsides I notice a giant wet spot on my cape from the most intense orgasm of my entire life. The fucking bastard. I absolutely cannot stand this. I can’t stand it. It’s like he’s discovered the key to my deepest, darkest psyche and can manipulate me however he wants. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist this liquid angelite on my clit, and maintain my sense of self. He just keeps it up though. I can’t take much more…

            A few months have passed, and I couldn’t be any happier. I don’t know why I ever complained before. Life is so much better.

            I spend my days serving my new master, and doing whatever he asks me to do. I sometimes make mistakes, like the time I was serving drinks to him and his friends in the skimpy French maid outfit that he likes (with black fishnets and an angelite clitoral vibrator controlled by him). The stimulation suddenly increased as I was walking with their drinks and I spilled the tray. I was so embarrassed, and I immediately dropped to my knees to clean up my mess. He punished me for that, and I deserved it.

            He’s good to me most of the time though, and rewards me when I please him – which makes me so happy. I can’t believe I used to think he was evil; I now realize that he’s a great man, and he just wants to make the world better in his own way. I miss him so much when he leaves for days at a time; it makes me so sad.

            Once in a while another superheroine from the Alliance will show up here in chains, to join our home. They sometimes look at me with tears in their eyes and tell me crazy, confusing things like, “I’m not myself”. I don’t know what they’re talking about because I’m more myself than I’ve ever been. My master sometimes sits me down and asks me questions, and I’m overjoyed by his attention. He usually asks me if I know about the weaknesses of certain superheroines, and I’m always completely open and honest with him. If I don’t know anything then I say so, but if I do then I tell him everything I know right down to the last, minute detail. He rewards me after that by dripping the liquid angelite on my sensitive spot until I writhe in ecstasy, but he doesn’t need to do that because making him happy is the best reward.

            I love to please my master.