Shattered Shards of Silver

Clockwise from top left: Kyrie, Penumbra, Spellweaver and Speedfreak

The club was packed, hundreds of bodies pressed up against each other in the warm, loud space. The whole building seemed to shake with the pounding of the bass in the tracks being played, and the dancefloor writhed with couples dancing suggestively. Rachel curled a lip in disgust as she saw people making out openly, uncaring of the other dancers surrounding them, and felt a pang of regret at attending. But Emily's hand dragged her onwards, and as Rachel's eyes returned to the woman she loved the regret faded. The club wasn't her scene, but Emily liked it, and that was enough for her.

They followed the wall until they were halfway around the dance floor before Emily let go.

"I'm going to grab us some drinks. See you in a few!" Emily said. Rachel opened her mouth to reject another drink, but Emily was already gone, and she suddenly found herself alone, surrounded by couples murmuring in each others ears or drinking together. She suddenly felt awkward and out of place. An environment like this - filled with fragile people that she couldn't navigate around - was where her powers weren't much use. She could super speed out of the club if she had to - and she'd leave a wide trail of broken bones behind her, and the distinctive green glow of her superspeed would be seen by everyone.

It didn't help that men were checking her out. She could feel their roving eyes on her, taking in her slender figure, the curves of her waist and hips and ass. It made her feel dirty. She shifted her clutch between her hands uncomfortably.

Another drink wouldn't help with the unpleasantness. She'd had a couple, but one downside of her superspeed was she had a super-metabolism to go with it. Speedfreak couldn't get drunk. Of course, Emily didn't know that, because she didn’t know that Rachel was Speedfreak. She just thought Rachel held her liquor well.

Suddenly a man stepped up next to her, his eyes fixed on her. He was tall, of medium build, with brown hair and a kind of generically handsome face that she struggled to tell apart from all the other men she heard straight women thirst over. Rachel hated him immediately.

"Hello. Do you mind some company?"

"I don't want anything to do with you." Rachel said as she made a show of looking him up and down dismissively.

He leaned over, his voice just barely audible over the club music.

"I think you do… Speedfreak."

Rachel opened her mouth to deny the allegation, but the words died on her lips as she saw the knowing glint in the man's eyes. The club faded into the background as she focused on him. He didn't resemble any of her villains… but that was little comfort. Her secret was out.

"What do you want?"

"I imagine it would be awkward for you if everyone here realised who you were. Especially between you and your girlfriend…" Something on Rachel's face must have given her away, because his lips curled upwards into a smirk.

"Oh, she doesn't know, does she? That makes this much easier."

"I said, what do you want?"

"I saw an interview you did a few weeks ago, where you came out and said you were, what was it, a "gold star lesbian". I was so disappointed."

"Your chances of getting a date with me would be zero even if I was straight, creep." The man laughed.

"Heh. A date isn't what I had in mind. In my experience, women like you say they're lesbians just because they don't know any better. So if you don't want me to tell everyone here just who you are, we'll upstairs and I'll show you what you've been missing out on. By the end of it, you'll like cock as much as any of the other sluts in this club."

Rachel gulped as the man leaned further into her personal space. She couldn't escape right now, but also couldn't risk him telling everyone… but she was a superhero. Surely there was a way out of this?

Flip a coin – tails!

"Uuungh, fuuuuuck-" Rachel groaned as the blackmailer penetrated her, her cunt unused to be filled by anything bigger than Emily's fingers. She could feel his long, hard prick stretching her out, distorting her, stuffing an emptiness in her that she hadn't realised she had. One of his hands moved up to squeeze the corners of her mouth together, and Rachel clenched her teeth in disgust as he tried to keep her quiet.

"That's it, bitch, take that cock." He growled, his other hand hefting one of her asscheeks and squeezing until his thick fingers sunk deep into her flesh. He had rolled her miniskirt up around her waist when he bent her over against the wall in this deserted part of club's upper level, in an alcove hidden from the main corridor, and his hands hadn't left her ass since.

She vaguely wondered how no one had found them yet, but thinking was hard when her body was being assaulted by the novel sensations of her pussy being filled for the first time.

Then the man started to move. She tried to ask him to start slow but it came out as a "Huuoorgh" and he ignored her, quickly picking up speed. Each thrust took away that stuffed feeling from her and then returned it twice over, until it felt like her whole body was being filled by his disgusting cock. Worse, she could feel raw physical pleasure begin to pulse in her core, even as her body shook and shuddered at the violation.

"God, look at this ass. Completely wasted on dykes." His hand came down in a sharp slap that made Rachel let out a long groan. Emily was never rough with her like that. But to her shock she could feel her cunt moisten at the pain that radiated through her ass, and his thrusts moved slicker and faster at the sudden lubrication. He seemed to notice it to, as she felt him lean forwards to whisper in her ear.

"Yeah, you liked that, didn't you. Guess they call you Speedfreak for a reason." The hand on her mouth tightened further and Rachel's eyes widened as he started spanking her cheeks every few thrusts and filled her ears with admiration for her ass, treating her like a piece of meat. She shivered in revulsion at his words, but tuning them out only drew her focus to the building pleasure in her core. She hated it, hated herself - but it was still there, growing, each thrust building something within her that was nothing like the gentle climaxes Emily delicately coaxed from her. This was like a flood filling her threatening to burst and overspill.

His hand loosened on Rachel’s mouth, but she could do was let out low moans as he pounded her. It seemed like every thrust went deeper, each striking a part of her that she did not know existed. Her whole body rocked with the force of his thrusts, thrusts that filled their little alcove with a steady plap-plap-plap sound. Rachel’s world narrowed, and she forgot Emily, forgot Speedfreak, forgot her powers; all she could think about was the horrible cock that filled her and the degradation that was forced upon her and the ecstacy building within her.

Suddenly, the dam broke. Rachel's vision went white as her orgasm hit her. Her whole body shuddered and her legs wobbled and gave way, and she only stayed on her feet because of the blackmailer's hard cock buried deep inside her, kissing her womb.

"Fuck." Her blackmailer groaned as he came too. Rachel could feel his cum flooding into her, filling her, but she barely noticed through the haze of pleasure and the shame and guilt that came with it. She shouldn't have came. She was a lesbian! How could a man's cock get her off?

"Wow, looks like I was right. You aren't a dyke after all." He gave a harsh laugh as he pulled out and spanked her ass once again, the action sending pleasant tingles through her core. The words barely registered as Rachel breathed heavily, her mind clouded and confused. She could barely hold herself upright with her hands against the wall. She needed to… she needed to clean up. And find Emily. It was over now, she could forget about this and go back to her life. She was vaguely aware of movement on the floor by her feet.

"Hey, wha…" She finally stood back up, trying to ignore the feeling of his semen inside her, and turned to see him holding her forgotten clutch and peering at her drivers license.

"Rachel Dolmen, huh?" Rachel's sudden rage brought her mind into focus.

"You bastard!" Her fist clenched as she raised her arm weakly. Her limbs felt loose and soft after the brutal fucking she had received.

"Her, none of that. Unless you want your secret identity on the evening news." Rachel stopped and lowered her arm, glaring at the man's smug face with undisguised rage.

"Oh, don't be like that. You had a good time tonight, don't pretend you didn't. Here." He pulled a card from somewhere. "My number's on there."

"You really think I'm going to call you?" Rachel growled. She was almost vibrating in rage.

"Within the week. Or the world learns Speedfreak is Rachel Dolmen. And I still need to teach you how to suck cock properly. I would have done that tonight, but your girlfriend probably would have noticed if I'd messed your makeup up." He pulled out a pocket square. "Here, clean yourself up. I'll see you around, slut." He walked past her back toward the stairs to the club, but not before tossing her clutch to her and giving her one final, harsh slap on her ass.

Rachel stood there, in shock from what had transpired, her ass stinging from his cruel hands. Her phone beeped and she saw it was a message from Emily asking where she was. Rachel's breath caught, and her mind raced. She had to get cleaned up. She had to go find her girlfriend and give her a convincing explanation for why she had disappeared. And she had to call the guy who had just raped her, find a time to meet up with him, and suck his cock. Why did that idea not completely repulse her like it would have an hour before?

---

Spellweaver fights her way into a Supervillain's secret lab, fights off his pair of genetically enhanced tigers, and finally kicks his ass. Unfortunately, even though police are on the way and she has a tied-up Supervillain in her arms, his henchmen won't give up! She may be out of mana, but she would never live it down if she lost to some nameless grunts after making it this far!

"Ulzumosh" Spellweaver cried out, launching a helix of twisting light from her hand that slammed into the enormous tiger a moment before it would have reached her with its vicious claws. The spell burst and turned into a cage of light, dragging Dr Oddity's genetically modified guard tiger to slam into one of the walls of the loading bay that served as the back entrance to the evil inventor's underground base. The tiger growled, attempted to rise to its feet, and then collapsed to the floor. The second tiger did not stop at the defeat of its partner, and slammed into her hastily raised shield with all the force of a truck. But the shield held.

Now she was close enough to look the tiger in the eye, a muttered "Rangazare" hypnotised the tiger long enough for a second blast of light to knock it out.

Spellweaver frowned. She didn’t like fighting animals, and the tigers were a victim of Dr Oddity like many of the others she had aided today. They were clearly suffering, the poor things; she could even see their barbed cocks erect and proud beneath their bodies, clearly a side-effect of whatever growth hormone Dr Oddity had used.

She turned attention to the fight ahead. She knew the lab area was on the other side of the loading bay, filled with whatever surprises Dr Oddity had left. She was low on mana – but it would be enough. She was a superheroine!

A twist of magic flicked the switch that opened the huge doors into the lab, and Spellweaver sauntered in. She tried to project confidence and arrogance, enough to convince Dr Oddity and his lackeys to surrender rather than fight.

“This ends tonight, Doc.” She shouted as she strode into the cavernous lab space. From the doorway she could see incubation tanks and workbenches, mechanical devices and vials of fluids of various colours and all manner of machines connected by miles of cables. She didn't know how it all worked - she was a witch. At the back loomed a strange orb of light on a pedestal, like a white whole in the world, which caught her eye for a moment before she spotted Dr Oddity standing in the middle of the lab, half a dozen of his henchmen spread out around the room.

“Now, are you going to come quietly?” She added saucily. She could feel the eyes of the men in the room on her.

Dr Oddity let out a cry of rage in response to her question.The scientist was short, bald and not particularly pleasant looking, and he seemed torn between lust and rage as he hefted a strange looking contraption at pointed it at her. "Get her, boys!"

"Renthon!" Spellweaver conjured up a quick shield as the inventor opened fire, as did his henchmen. The energy blasts of their weapons met her shield with a KA-KRAK! and the room was filled with blinding darkness. On instinct she raced forward into the inky blackness that filled the room, ducking towards where she had seen Dr Oddity standing last and lashed out with a punch. She was rewarded by a shout of pain and the thump of him hitting the ground, and she followed up by touching his prone body to cast her best binding spell, which would hold him in place until the police arrived.

Even surrounded by darkness, she felt a surge of elation at her victory.

Then Spellweaver felt something shoot past her. She ducked, breathing heavily as she realised just how close a call that had been. She hurried to crawl through the darkness, away from where the blast had come from, but the noises of the henchmens’ shooting continued above her. They'd hit her eventually by blind luck, if nothing else. Then she remembered the orb at the back of the room. She couldn't see it through the all-pervading shadow, but she took a guess and let out a blast of magic with a shouted "Akari" in the right general direction as she kept crawling. Yet with that last spell, she felt the pit in her stomach that indicated her mana had run out, and panic gripped her.

Light returned to the room. Dr Oddity was out on the ground. So were two of the henchmen. The other four were still standing, looking down in dismay at their suddenly depowered energy guns. Spellweaver stood, finding herself in the middle of an open area in front of the incubation tanks. The four henchmen turned to her, and she raised her hands and adopted what she thought was a mystical hand gesture.

"Right, are you pendejos going to surrender, or are you going to make a fight of this?" She said, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster.

The henchmen didn’t respond for a moment, and Spellweaver though this would end quietly.

“You know, I think if you could still cast magic, we’d all be hurting real bad right now.” The nearest henchman said, as he took a single step towards her. She didn’t respond, and he grinned. So did his comrades.

“What was that the Doc talked about earlier? Wanting to see how magic was inherited?” another one said. “How about we give him a chance to study it properly?”

Spellweaver gulped as she realised what they intended, but then she clenched her fists. Sure, she was outnumbered - but these were just ordinary thugs, and she had been trained in hand to hand combat by Kyrie herself, and the police were on their way. She wasn't going to be beaten now!

Flip a coin… heads!

"Stay! Down! Culero!" Spellweaver punctuated each word with a punch to the head, the last finally causing the henchman to fall unconscious to the floor.

Spellweaver’s whole body ached, she was covered in bruises and abrasions, and her hair was only half-in her customary but she wasn’t done yet.. Her costume was torn, exposing expanses of brown skin, as she turned towards where the final henchman was. He was just standing there, like he was waiting for some-

She realised just as the other henchman, who she had thought was down for the count, hit her with a tackle that swept her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, and her head swam.

“She took out Dave and Robin.”

“Yeah, and you can go try waking them if you like. I’m going to enjoy myself.”

Spelleaver wondered, through her hazy thoughts, what he meant. Then she felt rough hands on her chest, pulling down her costume and pinching her nipples roughly.

“Damn, look at the tits on her. Think’s that where she stores the magic?”

Maria’s screamed in protest inside her head, but her limbs refused to move through the pain and disorientation. She felt teeth graze her nipples, and a rough hand heft one of her asscheeks.

“Fuck, I’ve never seen a stripper with a body as fine as hers.”

“Just be grateful – strippers don’t let you touch!”

Their mocking laughter set a fire of rage burning inside her, and as she felt hands push her legs apart and migrate up to her hips, the violation leant her new energy and she slowly, painfully forced her muscles to move.

“You can keep playing with those tits, I’m having her cunt fir-aargh!” The henchman screamed as Spellweaver kicked him in the balls. Before the other henchman could react she punched him in the face and rolled before scrambling to her feet. A leg caught her own and she stumbled before blindly reaching out for anything she could use as a weapon. Her hand closed on a glass vial and she slammed it into the head of the thug who had groped her breasts as he came in for a punch.

He let out a scream of pain, and there was an unpleasant sizzling sound. Spellweaver struggled to stand upright; her knee ached, her shoulders hurt whenever she moved her arms, and she had cuts and bruises all over. But she stood nonetheless, calling on her last reserves of strength to give the henchman in front of her two kidney shots and a brutal knee to put him down, before slamming another glass vial onto the head of the henchman she had kicked in the balls. Then the lab was finally, mercifully, still.

Spellweaver stumbled over to a nearby stool and sat down, fixing her costume as best she was able before the police arrived. Her whole body was sore and she zoned out through the wait, barely noticing when the police arrived, cuffed Dr Oddity and his henchmen, and led them away.

"You look like you could use this." A police officer said as he handed her a water bottle. Spellweaver took it and began to drink greedily. "Though you look pretty roughed up. I'm surprised. Couldn't you just…" Spellweaver didn't have the energy to speak, so she looked up at the sheepish expression on his face. "You know, say some magic words and tie them all up?"

Spellweaver sighed.

---

@undernether

A villain called Snail's Pace has been causing trouble through town and has been growing bolder by the day. Originally thought to be a speedster, his power seems to be more that he can slow and maybe even freeze the relative flow of time in a limited area, allowing him to steal grand and valuable items and play pranks on heroes and cops trying to stop him. Kyrie suspects that Speedfreak's speed may just be fast enough to cope with Snail's powers and invites her to attempt to ambush him at the city gala tomorrow, where surely he would strike next. With Speedfreak's alacrity and Kyrie's durability surely they would be able to halt the daring cat burglar.

“I know that all the news about robberies and pranks has got people nervous. But don’t worry, with both of us on the case, Snail’s Pace is as good as caught!” Speedfreak gave a smile and thumbs up to the news reporter, and the camera kept rolling for a few moments before the segment finished and the reporter departed to talk to one of the other distinguished guests.

“Quite the fancy party, huh?” Speedfreak said to Kyrie, as she snagged an hors d'oeuvre from a nearby waiter.

“Yes, and we had best be leaving it and patrolling.” Kyrie said. She walked with long, purposeful strides towards the next gallery in the museum, and the crowd of men in tuxedos and women in evening dresses parted for her readily, occasionally stopping their conversations to stare. Speedfreak hurried after her.

“Yeah, patrol. Definitely.” Speedfreak said, keeping up with Kara’s longer stride with brief bursts of superspeed. Some of the other eyes in the room were on her, and Speedfreak couldn’t deny, it was nice to be admired, respected for her heroism and her ability to keep people safe.

“Can I just say how much I’m enjoying this team up? Snail’s Pace isn’t going to know what hit him!” Kyrie's lack of response caused Speedfreak's face to fall, and she said nothing more as Kyrie led them away from the gala.

Kyrie looked around as they stepped under a rope barring off the museum’s East Wing from the gala attendees, checking for anything suspicious. As the pair walked through the empty parts of the museum, far from listening ears, she spoke in a low voice.

“I think you need to be more careful about how you talk to the media. Setting expectations of when you will catch criminals only invites criticism if you should fail, even due to circumstances outside your control.” Kyrie’s jaw tightened. “This goes double when the exact details of a villain’s power are still unknown to you. We haven’t even got a good idea of what Snail’s Pace looks like.”

Kyrie looked around the empty gallery, and spoke with a sterner tone.

“Plus, being insulting towards villains in the media like that can make them vengeful, which is never a good thing. I’d take a dozen professional villains over one with a grudge any day.”

“Okay, I think I get it. But I haven’t been insulting him!” Speedfreak protested. Her eyes was momentarily caught by a piece of modern artwork, that at first she thought was a fish, then a man, then a house. She shook her head. She didn’t get art.

“You named him, and not with a particularly flattering one at that, to the media. Villains care about their reputation, and that involves being intimidating. “Snail’s Pace” is not a scary name.”

“Urgh, fine.” Speedfreak admitted, crossing her arms. The older hero was probably right. Kyrie seemed content with her acceptance, and continued their patrol through the deserted part of the museum.

“You’ve got to say it fits, though. The ability to slow down time around himself… well, it’s glad you called me in. Between the two of us, we’ll definitely be able to catch him.”

Flip a coin… tails!

“Gaghk, gaghk, gaghk.”

Speedfreak’s mouth was forced wide around the cat burglar’s prick as… she? they? pushed her head down with their gloved hands. Tear’s ran down Speedfreak’s cheeks at the feel of her throat being violated, and she looked up at the thief who had beaten her.

The cat burglar grinned down at her, their short black hair tousled from where they had removed their helmet, their beautiful androgynous face twisted in an expression of sadistic pleasure, their slender body contained in in a tight catsuit that clung to the curves of their substantial breasts. and had emphasised the bulge between their legs during their brief fight.

Speedfreak couldn’t believe she had ended up in this situation, drool running down her chin as Snail’s Pace pumped their cock roughly between her lips, filling her mouth and pressing down her throat.

She had stumbled upon the cat burglar as they had entered the museum, but soon found that the thief’s field of slowed time was strong enough to essentially render Speedfreak an unpowered woman. Then they had fought, and she had quickly lost; with almost lazy maneuvers Snail Pace tripped her with their whip, then wrapped her wrists behind her while she sturggled to rise. And now she was at Snail Pace’s mercy, hed hands still bound and her entire body controlled by the burglar’s strong arms.

“You know, I was uncertain about coming here. Too much heat, not worth the risk. But then I saw in the news yesterday that you would be in attendance, and I just had to drop by.”

Speedfreak stared up with watery eyes as the cat burglar increased their pace, brutally shoving their cock down her throat. She found herself perversely glad that her blackmailer Ethan had prepared her for the horrid sensation, but even he wasn’t as violent as the villain she faced now.

“Snail’s Pace, really? That’s the name you came up with for me? And spread all over the media. No one will take me seriously with a name like that. I was going to go with Crawler, or Decelerate, or something. Not Snail’s Pace!”

Speedfreak gagged on the cock bulging in her throat, and the sound only seemed to anger the cat burglar more. They pulled back and then thrust forward even harder, shoving their long thick cock into Speedfreak’s gullet until her bottom lip touched their balls. It felt like the cock was in her stomach and she tried to whimper, but no sound came out. Her vision spun as she started to run out of air, but Snail’s Pace held her there for agonising seconds more before finally letting go.

The reprieve was brief before they continued fucking her face.

“So I thought I’d come here and show you something much better to do with your mouth than gossip with reporters.” They gave a groan of pleasure as their hips shuddered, and suddenly they were cumming. Speedfreak could feel it shooting into her throat and coating her tonsils, could taste the salty fluid in her mouth; and then they just kept cumming, filling up her whole mouth until she had no choice but to swallow. It felt disgusting as she gulped it down and the cock in her mouth started to soften.

“Ah, and there’s the other heroine of the hour!” Snail’s Pace exclaimed, her head turned towards the wide entrance to the gallery.

Speedfreak turned her head, hoping that her mentor would appear to save her; but while she could see Kyrie, the woman simply stood there on one foot, moving imperceptibly slowly, her eyes wide and inmoving as she gazed at Speedfreak’s position. Snail’s Pace’s field of frozen time was still up, and despair gripped her.

She felt a light slap on her cheek and turned upwards to look at the owner of the cock still lodged in her mouth, which had aready begun to harden again.

“How about this? If you can get three more loads from me by the time I have to get out of Kyrie’s way, I’ll call it even. If not… well, you’ll be seeing me again.”

"It's a bit obvious, isn't it? Surely there's a trick here." Spellweaver said, as the four of them looked down on the Alpine castle which the supervillainess Pasiphae had seized as part of her latest plot.

"Pasiphae can be subtle, but she also does things like this occasionally simply to flaunt her power." Kyrie said, folding her pinoculars back into her armor and turning away from the castle to look at the other superheroines. "Her magical might and arcane skills mean that imprisoning her is practically impossible. She'll seize a castle and declare herself Queen simply to get a chance to fight superheroines and remind the world that she exists. And, of course, to keep people scared so that when there is something she actually does want, they'll just give it to her."

"That's… absurd." Penumbra said, frowning.

"That's supervillains for you." Speedfreak smirked. "At least she makes it easy for us."

"This will not be easy." Kyrie's tone was stern. "Pasiphae can usually find multiple supervillains to aid her. We know that Melk and Murk, who you know about, have joined her, as has Ringout, who has tangled with Mindwarp before. He can generate shrinking hard light rings that are extremely difficult to break. You'll all have to be on guard. Focus on those three, while I fight Pasiphae directly. I'm sure you'll be up to the task."

There was a chorus of affirmations from the other superheroines, and Kyrie felt a burst of pride for the other superheroines she was mentoring.

"If I know Pasiphae, she'll be in the largest room in the castle, which is the ballroom. If we follow this ridge down we should be able to avoid being spotted until we can go in via that back entrance there. Follow me."

The descent down to the castle was quick, and there was no sign of an alarm as Spellweaver folded them through the wards Pasiphae had placed on the castle and they entered the bottom level of the castle.

But they had only ascended a single flight of stairs when they found themselves face to face with a skull-shaped mask that made the three younger heroines start in fear.

"Oh, I was wondering when you would arrive." Skullfuck's voice was deep, melodious and amused. The bulk of his bony armor seemed to fill the stone corridor beneath the castle.

"Girls, go. I'll handle him and catch up with you." Kyrie said, her voice hard as steel, not letting her eyes leave Skullfuck for a moment.

"But…" Speedfreak began.

"Are you sure they don't want to stay? I'm sure they'd find it enjoyable."

"You all know how his powers work. You're in more danger the longer you stay here. I'm immune to his mind control and I could beat him with two hands behind my back. You can handle Pasiphae and her lackies. I'll be right behind you."

"Kyrie, it's Skullfuck" Spellweaver said. "I know what he does to heroines if he wins. They're never the same afterwards. We should all fight him together."

Skullfuck's skull-shaped mask seemed to spread into a wider grin as he listened to the discussion. He flexed his fists, preparing for a fight.

"I'm not risking you all. You girls can do this without me. I trust you. I'll see you after these villains are all arrested. Now go!"

Kyrie heard the other heroines depart, still staring as Skullfuck. As their footsteps faded, Skullfuck slowly advanced. Kyrie raised her fists, ready for battle. She could not afford to lose to him!"

Flip a coin… heads!

Kyrie fist collided with Skullfuck's head, the blow sending him crashing through two more walls of the castle. The armory room and the rooms around it echoed with the sound of collapsing masonry and sent up dust clouds that Kyrie batted away with superhuman waves of her hands. Their battle had ruined an entire wing of the ancient structure, and Kyrie allowed herself a brief pang of regret at the damage as she clambered through the broken stonework towards his prone form.

When she arrived at the room she had punched him into - some kind of bedroom - SKullfuck was slowly clambering to his feet, but Kyrie believed in kicking villains when they were down. The first kick sent him back to the floor, and then she rained punishing blows down upon him while avoiding his pitiful attempts to retaliate until his bloodied, battered form could barely move. Then she stood, breathing heavily as she looked down on her vanquished foe.

"How many times do we have to do this? How many times do I have to beat you into a pulp before you stop?"

Slowly, he started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" She growled.

"Until I win." Blood dribbled from his mouth as it contorted to make the words around the broken bones of his face. Kyrie knew he wasn't going to die; his healing powers were slow but unstoppable. "You have to win every time, but I only have to win once. One day I'll ruin you, and I'll forever be known as the man who turned the great Kyrie into a mindbroken fuckpet."

Kyrie clenched her jaw.

"And when I've done that, I'll head down to Elysium and visit that mother of yours, and do the same to her. I'll sit on the throne of Elysium with the two of you between my legs, your minds only thinking of my cock." He smiled with bloody teeth. "I can't wait."

Kyrie was used to the taunts of supervillains, but a sudden burst of hot rage filled her at the thought of this monster perverting the intimacy she shared with her mother. She clenched her fists.

"Well, there's one way to make sure that never happens."

Skullfuck's eyes widened as he realised what she meant.

A minute later, she turned away from his body and ran towards the ballroom, where she hoped to find her fellow heroines victorious.

---

If Kyrie makes it out unscathed, you should flip for the other group as a whole and see what state they're in when she catches up to them. ;)

The three heroines ran through the halls of the castle, ignoring the increasing loud rumblings from behind them where Kyrie was fighting Skullfuck. None of them spoke, all unwilling to broach the possibility that Kyrie might lose, that they might never see their mentor again – at least, not with her mind intact.

Spellweaver couldn’t stand the silence, and realised that they needed a plan for the upcoming fight.

“Speedfreak, take out Pasiphae first. She needs to speak for her spells like me, so you’ll be able to take outmaneuver her. Penumbra, take out Melk and Murk. You’ll be able to evade them, and use them against each other. I’ll bring down Ringout, and then help whichever one of you two needs it most. Got it?”

“Who made you the leader?” grumbled Penumbra. Spellweaver turned to glare at her.

“Fine.” Penumbra said, rolling her eyes.

“Come on girls, Kyrie has put her trust in us. We can’t let her down. We’re going to beat these pendejos, and Kyrie is going to trounce Skullfuck, and good will triumph over evil.”

“Yeah, let’s do it for Kyrie!” “For Kyrie, yes.”

A huge pair of double doors loomed before them, and Spellweaver yelled out a spell that blew them off their hinges as they advanced into the ballroom. The four villains stood there, waiting for them, with Pasiphae in the centre. Her elegant black gown hugged the curves of her hourglass figure tightly; her hair, dark as midnight, fell in straight curtains around her face, and her purple witches’ hat sat stylishly upon her head.

On her right stood the twins Melk and Murk, with their red skin and horns, four arms apiece and mismatched body shapes; Murk was cracking his knuckles in a way that emphasised his vast muscular frame, while Melk’s thin elastic limbs seemed to bounce in place. On her left was Ringout, an ordinary man in a blue and white costume with glowing rings of light surrounding him and a leering smile on his face.

“Ah, the trainees have arrived. Are you sure, young Spellweaver, that you don’t want to take up my offer of apprenticeship, rather than pursue this… doomed fight?” Pasiphae’s voice was husky and alluring as ever.

“Doomed? We’ll never lose to scum like you!” Spellweaver shouted, and the battle was on.

Flip a coin… tails!

The ballroom was filled with pleasured moans and groans of pain, the sound of flesh slapping on flesh and cries of dismay.

In the middle of the room, Pasiphae sat basking in her victory, her ass firmly planted on Spellweaver’s face. Her prodiguous booty smothered the younger witch, the cheeks almost touching the floor and leaving the heroine deprived of sensory information; she could see nothing and hear nothing around the soft expanses of flesh that surrounded her head, smell only the older magician’s taint and taste only the pussy she had her tongue buried inside.

Pasiphae’s hands had a tight grip on Spellweaver’s breasts, her sharp nails scratching along their slopes or twisting the nipples painfully as she luxuriated in the pleasure she was receiving.

“That’s it, keep going, you’re picking up an apprentice’s duties very well.” she reassured the young witch as she rocked back and forth, grinding herself on Spellweaver’s face. At a momentary loss of tongue movement she dug her nail into a nipple, and was rewarded with a muffled squeak and redoubled oral attention. Satisfied that her new apprentice was coming along well, she turned her attention to the rest of the room.

The fast girl, Speedfreak, was suspended from the ground between Melk and Murk, her legs and arms danging in the air, her body held up by their arms and their girthy cocks. Occasionally her legs would wobble a bit in place, but otherwise she seemed completely out of it as the twins pounded into her. Melk, the shorter one, was fucking her face, his cock bulging her pale throat with every thrust. Murk meanwhile fucked her from behind, the motions causing the redheaded woman’s huge ass, almost of a size with Pasiphae’s own, to bounce with obscene motions.

Pasiphae exulted at the speedster’s defeat as she reached up to feel the small cut on her cheek Speedfreak had given her during their brief fight.

“Oh, how good it is to see a arrogant harlot like that properly humbled. Maybe I’ll borrow those brothers to do the same to you when you get uppity, my dear.” Spellweaver seemed to take the comment as an criticism and her tongue picked up the pace, leaving Pasiphae breathing hard as warmth built within her core.

The idea was more than an idle thought. To Pasiphae’s mind, there were few better sights than seeing a woman like that ruined by a thick cock or two – and if she couldn’t find men of the calibre she needed, she typically used magic to grow her own. Once Melk and Murk had had their fun, she would take the speedster away and properly break her until there was nothing left of her mind. It would serve as a good example to Spellweaver of why she should obey her new Mistress.

Turning to the other couple in the room, Pasiphae felt a deep satisfaction at how well she’d put this little group together. Penumbra’s shadow powers were something Pasiphae was eager to study with the mystic arts, and Ringout was the perfect counter to her abilities. He wasn’t a remarkable man, but he did have a remarkable power, excellent for restraining and trapping women. They even looked good with his rings of light tight around their wrists and binding their arms to their chests. She intended to keep him around, and keep him pliant with money and sluts like the one he was currently enjoying.

Penumbra was on her back, arms restrained behind her in glowing blue rings in a way that forced her sizeable chest up and outwards. Her layers of cloaks had been torn, exposing the twin creamy mounds of flesh, which Ringout had placed his cock between and was now frantically fucking, his unimpressive cock disappearing between the fleshy pillows as he squeezed them with his hands. Penumbra occasionally let out a little cry of despair or pleaded with him to stop; no one paid attention to her.

Pasiphae felt something catch within her, and the steady swell of pleasure that Spellweaver’s tongue had been giving her suddenly built up speed. She closed her eyes in pleasure as Spellweaver slowly brought her to orgasm. Pasiphae let herself relax into it, riding hard on Spellweaver’s face as she let every pulse of ecstasy flow through her.

As she came down from her climax, she realised Spellweaver had stopped eating her out. Pasiphae rose up onto her knees, and the brown-skinned woman beneath her took a great shuddering breath, her pretty face entirely smeared with Pasiphae’s juices.

“Good girl.” She said, her voice cutting through the sound of Spellweaver filling her lungs with air. “Now, again!”

Before the young witch could take another breath, Pasiphae sat down again, and the hall echoed with the wet clap of her ass on Spellweaver’s face. The other witch got to work without a single noise of protest, and Pasiphae hummed in pleasure that the young witch was so naturally submissive. She once again considered growing a cock, this time inside Spellweaver’s mouth, then fucking her face and seeing how the young magician handled a litre of cum being poured down her throat. But Spellweaver seemed so eager to please her that Pasiphae reconsidered. There would be time for that later.

When they got back to her lair she was probably going to spend at least a week doing nothing but fucking her new student in every way imaginable.

While she had been cumming the twins had switched position; now Melk took Speedfreak from behind on her hands and knees, while Murk forced her pretty face down his vast cock, his hands tightly gripped in her red hair. Her jaw stretched wide to allow him entry, but her eyes had rolled back in her head, to Pasiphae’s delight.

Yet she noticed something was different. The rumblings from the other wing of the castle had stopped. Pasiphae smirked. Skullfuck had finally finished, and soon Kyrie would be barely able to speak full sentences, let alone stand as the beacon and leader for new superheroines. Pasiphae would be free to pursue her projects, amass power and apprentices, break whatever slut she wished…

A wall burst open, and Kyrie entered the room; scuffed and battle damaged, but entirely whole, her fists covered in blood and her face twisted in rage.

“Oh.” was all Pasiphae managed to say before Kyrie’s fist met her face.

---

@undernether

Penumbra has been tracking down an underworld figurehead named Warlock to stop him from running a human trafficking and pit fighting operation. Warlock seems magically gifted due to his propensity to make magical escapes and his ability to field a near-endless supply of slightly fantastical henchmen. To try and put a stop to his operations once and for all, she decides to enter the Underworld Arena as bait, while Spellweaver can work into the background to undo any magic that Warlock uses to facilitate his miraculous escapes and his endless supply of loyal henchmen that could show up from anywhere.

"Are you sure about this, Penumbra?" Spellweaver asked. It was only the clear kindness in her eyes that kept Penumbra from snapping back at her. The two were stood on a roof, not far from the old theatre Warlock was using as the centre of his operation. Night had long since fallen, and the pair had been watching the steady trickle of people heading towards Warlock's metahuman fighting event for more than an hour.

"Yes, I'm sure. Though if you don't think you're up to helping…" she said.

"Of course I am." Spellweaver stretched, drawing Penumbra's eyes to the way her tight purple costume clung to the curves of her body, and looked away. Spellweaver was the fellow heroine she got on best with, but the woman was still… provocative.

"You're completely right that these servants of Warlock's are magical from the traces they left at those crime scenes. Though teleportation and the creation of magical servants are a bit of a strange combination of arcane skills…"

"Does it matter?" Penumbra asked testily. She didn't like magic, and she preferred to leave it to a specialist like Spellweaver.

"Not really, I suppose. Though your shadow powers would probably be better suited to handling these servants of Warlock's than dealing with his teleportation."

"Warlock is my case. I'm not letting anyone else take the lead on it." Penumbra huffed, and turned away from her fellow hero. "Just make sure you keep the weird beast-dudes busy while I deal with Warlock."

Before Spellweaver could respond, she dropped down off the roof, using her powers to slow her fall. As dark as it was, her powers were at their zenith; she could smash apart the theatre where Warlock had made his base with ease. But given his teleportation powers, he'd probably still get away, and his entire network would go to ground. Her white robes - a disguise to sell the idea of her as a different newtype to the known hero Penumbra - fluttered around her as she made her way down the alleys to the small side door for the meta-brawl's competitors.

A knock revealed an extremely tall man who gazed down at her from behind the reinforced door.

"Newtype?" He asked. There was scepticism in his voice.

Penumbra used her powers to make her robes flutter around her and extended the hidden fabric into a swirl of threatening tendrils of cloth. It had taken her a while to work out how to pretend to have different powers than she did, but she quite liked the result.

"I'm Stitcher."

She saw the faintest hint of a smirk on the man's face as she was directed inside and guided down a passageway by another burly guard, but breathed deeply to stifle her anger. The interior of the complex was well lit, but a quick internal check showed that it was not nearly lit enough to limit her powers. Soon she could hear the steady roar of the crowd awaiting the start of the event, and she was led into a large backstage room that looked to have a dozen other newtypes present. She curled her lip in disgust when she saw the frankly lewd costumes the other female competitors were wearing. Ignoring their conversations, Penumbra crossed the room to look down another long corridor - and was rewarded with the sight of Warlock talking to one of his men, a smug smile on his goateed face.

Penumbra let a small smile spread across her face. With Spellweaver's aid, there was no way Warlock was getting away!

Flip a coin… tails!

Warlock's hand hefted one of Penumbra's tits before rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She squirmed, and her wriggling pressed her ass back against the hard prick she could feel poking into her from behind.

"Oh, you are a feisty one, aren't you?" He laughed as he grabbed the front of her robes and tore them off her. She could do nothing to resist; the bright lights taken from the arena were all turned to focus on her, and she couldn't summon the slightest mote of her shadow powers to save her.

"Please, just let me go." She begged. The large backstage room was empty save for the two of them and the powerful industrial lights that Warlock had used to trap her. She should have realised that the whole thing was a trap once she was asked to go to a different room to the other contestants; instead Warlock had manifested, taunted her, and led her on a merry teleporting chase around the backrooms of the pit-fighting complex until in her frustration she had manifested right in the brightly-lit room.

"Hmmm…. no, I don't think I will." His other hand was heavy on her abdomen, pulling her back towards him. She could feel his cock between her legs, brushing against her lips without penetrating her. "Besides, the show will start in a moment or two."

"What sho-?"

There was a crash as Spellweaver stumbled in through one of the side doors, followed by the bulky forms of Warlock's animal-headed henchmen. One had a bull's head, the other a lizards, the third a horse; but all of them moved with power and purpose as their muscular forms, naked from the waist up, surrounded Spellweaver, whose costume was battered and ripped from the fight. She muttered an arcane word that forced her assailants back, but as she turned and saw Penumbra caught, stripped naked and being groped by Warlock's big hands Spellweaver's eyes went wide in surprise.

A long pink tongue shot out from one of the other side doors and wrapped around Spellweaver's mouth, taking advantage of her momentary distraction. She twisted in panic, trying to get it off as a frogman and several other animal-men emerged from that door, but the beastmen quickly surrounded her and began to pull apart her costume as well.

"The Beastmen of Agadash." Warlock said, as Penumbra could only watch in horror as the beings in question lowered their crude trousers to reveal an array of huge bestial cocks. The tongue binding Spellweaver's face detached for a moment, but before she could utter a single word her head was pulled forward and her open mouth filled with a long, thick horsecock even as more beastmen appeared from elsewhere in the complex. "I discovered their realm by accident while working on my teleportation powers. It didn't take much to gain their allegiance, and with the right application of my magics they can manifest from their realm as I need them to."

Penumbra cried out as her friend and fellow heroine was manhandled by the beastmen, who moved with singular purpose as they arranged her for ideal fucking. The frogman who had caught Spellweaver ended up beneath her, and pressed his sticky cock against the lips of her pussy; meanwhile the bullman had knelt behind her, and Penumbra watched Spellweaver's whole body flex when the bullman's big, rough hands seized her hips.

"Please stop them!" Penumbra wailed; but it was in vein. She saw the beastmen penetrate her friend in one coordinated motion, even as she felt Warlock's cock finally slip between her pussy lips and enter her. He slid in easily, and Penumbra realised that watching Spellweaver's assault had gotten her wet. Warlock's hands tightened on her breasts, groping and massaging them as he began to fuck her with shallow, almost gentle thrusts. She felt his breath on her ear as he leaned forwards.

"Keep watching her." Penumbra couldn't look away if she tried. The beastmen pulled and pushed Spellweaver's body as they fucked her, a brutal cycle as one buried himself as deep as he could in her throat, then the second, her cunt; then the third, her ass. They all let out bestial grunts and groans as they rutted against her, even as the sound of their balls clapping against her flesh filled the room. Other beastmen stood around her, groping her flesh, pinching her dusky nipples or pressing their cocks into her hands, which started to jerk the cocks almost subconsciously. Warlock's cock steadily pushed deeper and deeper within Penumbra, filling her up as jolts of pleasure flowed down from her sensitive breasts to build in her core.

Suddenly, the horse-headed beastman who was roughly fucking Spellweaver's throat let out a whining sound as his whole body seized up; Penumbra could see her friend's throat bulge and cum begin to dribble out around the edges of her mouth.

"They don't have the best stamina." Warlock said, sounding disappointed as he tugged one of Penumbra's nipples upwards, lifting her whole tit in a way that sent pleasure and pain coursing through her. "But they do have numbers on their side."

The horseman backed away, and Penumbra felt a surge of hope as Spellweaver clearly prepared to cast something. But before she could another bestial cock, this one knotted and red, filled her throat. Soon the other beastmen finished, pumping their loads into Spellweaver's curvaceous body, but each of the witch's holes was only allowed a brief moment of respite before it was stuffed with another beastmen's cock. Penumbra's eyes were fixed on the other heroine as the beastmen manhandled her, moving her into different positions so more and more of them could access Spellweaver's nubile body.

As she watched, Penumbra's own pleasure built and built from Warlock's steady, even strokes and his careful hands playing with her. The bright lights surrounding her meant she could do nothing as she watched her friend and fellow heroine get gangbanged by the seemingly endless horde.

There was a moment when the beastman fucking Spellwaver's face pulled out, and Spellweaver didn't even try to cast a spell around the cum that filled her mouth, that Penumbra realised just how badly the two of them had lost. Even as a lizardman shoved both his long, hard cocks into Spellweaver's cunt, Penumbra's whole body contorted and she let out a loud moan as a small orgasm hit her at the realisation of their defeat. Warlock tugged her body closer to his as the ecstacy filled her.

"I knew you would enjoy the show."

Penumbra had never gotten along with her fellow heroines. They didn't comport themselves as good role models for women and girls everywhere should. They were too lewd, too shameless; their costumes were designed to show off their curves and tempt any who looked at them, and around the public they acted with arrogance rather than humility, flirting outrageously all the while.

Sometimes she thought that maybe they could use a little more…

Penumbra quashed the chain of thought. Still, while she didn't like most other superheroines, she didn't think they were bad people.

Which had left her all the more surprised when she saw the phone video of Quasar kidnapping a young woman in broad daylight as the woman asked for her autograph.

True, the fans who pestered her at all times were also annoying, but there was no need for Quasar to go that far, especially since she could fly!

Curiosity piqued, Penumbra had investigated - and found accounts (lacking video) of four more women taken by Quasar that weekend. Tracking them down had brought her, near sunset, to an abandoned factory on the edge of the city.

Lurking in a narrow alleyway, Penumbra gazed at the factory and waited. Her body was half-merged with shadows, and virtually unnoticeable. As the sun descended, she could feel her powers steadily building in strength. Quasar was a powerful heroine, but if it came to a fight Penumbra was pretty sure she could handle her so long as the sun had set. So she waited.

The sun had been below the horizon for half an hour when Penumbra heard the telltale whoosh of a flying superhuman. Unmerging from the shadows, she looked upward to see Quasar's glowing form descend from the sky towards the roof of the factory. As she stared through the halo surrounding the other superheroine's Amazonian form, she was sure that there was something off about the other heroine's silhouette… but it didn't matter. She had a fellow heroine to remonstrate with.

Transitioning into her shadow-form once more, Penumbra glided across the empty lot in front of the factory, expanded her shadowy arm like a vast billowing cloak, and then slammed it into one of rusted loading doors of the factory, blowing it clean away from the wall and revealing the inside of the factory…

Where the five kidnapped women were held in some sort of cage, and Quasar was on her knees in front of a woman with matted hair and stained clothes, the woman's cock buried deep in her throat.

"What? Why didn't the Quasar alarm go-" The woman shouted as she turned to look towards the now-destroyed doorway, one hand still on the bobbing head of the superheroine in front of her. "Wait, you're not Quasar?"

Penumbra froze, her cheeks burning, as confusion and embarrassment warred inside her and her thoughts raced through the questions the scene before her evoked. Why did the woman be surprised that she wasn't Quasar when Quasar was right in front of her? Why were they engaging in such lewd behaviours? Why did they have the women in a cage? Why was the woman in the chair so filthy?

"Mecha-Quasar, restrain her!" the woman ordered as she pointed at Penumbra. Then she added with a smirk "You know, the fun way."

As the other Quasar rose from her… activities in one smooth motion and turned to her, Penumbra saw the exposed circuitry on her chin and abdomen and realised this was some sort of robotic duplicate. The dishevelled, half-naked woman in the chair grinned and pressed a button that opened the cage, and the five kidnapped women began rushing at her with murderous looks in their eyes even as the robot raised a glowing hand towards her. Penumbra shifted into shadow and prepared for battle. Whatever was going on here, she was going to put a stop to it!

Flip a coin - heads!

Penumbra's shadowy form shifted as she dodged away from another energy blast released by the robot's one good arm, and then pressed her advantage. As the quantum energies of the blast faded, her powers waxed in strength once more and she reached out with a shadowy appendage to strike at Mecha-Quasar, all while keeping the brainwashed women away with another umbral limb. The robot was heavily damaged; it's false costume and synthetic skin mostly torn off to reveal the metallic sheen beneath, its left arm ended in wires and sparks at its elbow, and there was a huge hole in its front where halfway through the fight it had unveiled a metallic cock that Penumbra had destroyed in a wild swing born of revulsion and embarrassment.

Her attack caught the robot on the leg hard enough to crumple it, and the woman in control of the robot - who had dodged around Penumbra and the Robot's blows throughout the fight, tinkering with something while her still-wet cock protruded long and hard in front of her - let out a scream of frustration. The robot, perhaps sensing it was losing, tried a different tactic, surging forward through the air to ram Penumbra with it's swift-moving body.

Penumbra smirked internally as she reduced the corporeality of her shadowy form, letting the robot pass through her with only a brief discomfort, before she wrapped three vast, pitch-black limbs around the robot and crushed it entirely. Mecha-Quasar fell to the ground with a metallic crash, and Penumbra turned towards the woman who had made it while keeping hold of the struggling hostages with her other shadow-limbs. The woman held up some kind of device towards her, pressed a button with a grin - and nothing happened.

"Oh, phooey." Penumbra's form expanded, filling half of the cavernous factory space like something out of a nightmare as she loomed over the woman, who cowered before her. Penumbra smashed the device in her hand before the villain could do anything else with it.

"What did you do to them?" Penumbra's voice echoed through the room, far deeper and louder than she could ordinarily speak. The woman before her swallowed in fear, eyes bulging and sweat beading on her forehead - though her cock remained hard in front of her, to Penumbra's disgust.

"It was just meant to be a distraction as Mecha-Quasar fought Quasar, something to limit her so Mecha-Quasar could win!" As Pennumbra deepened the shadows that surrounded the woman, her voice grew more frantic. "There's a little device behind their ears! Remove it and they'll stop!"

Penumbra crushed the offending devices with the smallest act of will, and all five of the young women slumped unconscious. She immobilised the villain with another shadowy appendage, careful not to touch the womans disgusting cock, and returned her own body to a more natural form before contacting the rest of the Champions.

After she knew the authorities were on their way, Penumbra found herself alone looking after five unconscious civilians and one conscious, annoying and horny supervillain.

"As soon as I get out of jail I'm going to make a Mecha-Penumbra, and then I'll come after you! Maybe she won't control shadows but she'll have lots more light sources than Mecha-Quasar did and lots of tentacles! Once I beat you with her it'll be like having my own personal 24/7 tentacle hentai!"

Penumbra sighed. As lewd as some of her fellow heroines were, their villains were far, far worse.

- - -

@toskalain

Once again a simpler prompt: I'd love to see a scene where one of the heroines struggles with the scars of her prior defeats more. Masturbating to her own rape, or telling herself she was "asking for it" after a narrow victory, or yearning for cock, whatever you enjoy most!

Maria stared up at the ceiling above her bed, trying to clear her mind and fall off into slumber. But sleep didn't come easy. It had been a few days since her an Penumbra's… encounter with Warlock and his beastmen, and while she was physically fine, her head was a different story.

She had experienced all sorts of unpleasant things as a superheroine, but her encounter with the beastmen had left her shaken like nothing else. Their violence and ferocity had made the fight a desperate struggle like few of her battles with other supervillains, and what happened after was worse. Their brutality and roughness, the way they seemed to move as one coordinated unit, not to mention their sheer size, had made their rape of her nightmarish.

She could call it that, inside of her own head. And yet- she was doing it again!

Maria pulled her arm up in disgust from where it had drifted between her legs to idly play with her folds as she thought about the beastmen. It had happened several times in the days since, when she was alone and her thoughts inevitably returned to that awful assault like water circling a drain. It had even happened that morning, when she was half-awake, one hand playing with her clit and the other massaging her nipples, and she had got herself most of the way to an orgasm at the thought of the hard bestial cocks filling her pussy and mouth and ass before she had awakened fully and came to her senses.

It didn't help that Warlock was still at large. Kyrie had taken over the search for him, to Maria's relief and Penumbra's anger, and enlisted other heroines to help - but without some counter to Warlock's magic he would be very difficult to catch. Maria wanted to help out - but she also did not want to come face to face with Warlock and his Beastmen again.

"I need to fix this." She said, rising and tossing on her robe. The halls of Heartacre, the estate she had purchased as a home and sanctum, were warm as she wandered to the library and began searching for ay mention of the Beastmen of Agadash in the books of magic she had collected ever since she began exploring the arcane arts. Her library was not as big as other repositories of arcane knowledge that she knew of, like Pasiphae's personal library of the Arcanery of Elysium, but she swore to herself that one day it would be.

Four hours later, I the darkness of the early hours, she found what she was looking for.

"The realm called Agadash, inhabited men of bestial form and disposition, lies adjacent to our plane along the citrial and circumnal axes, but fades in and out of alignment. The folk of Agadash have been used by many a sorcerer and warlock-" Maria stopped her reading for a moment, thinking of the supervillain.

"The folk of Agadash have been used by many a sorcerer and warlock as warrior-servants, for they are strong, disciplined and coordinated. Yet their true allegiances remain with their leaders, the caste known as the Shanan-Im, who do not share their servants lightly, for all that they are far more diplomatic than the bestial kind they rule over."

What followed was a diagram of one of the beastmen, that caused her hand fall between her legs before she caught it, a series of ritual diagrams and a number of incantations, which looked relatively simple to Maria's eyes.

"Am I really doing this?" Maria asked herself as she examined the diagrams more carefully. She turned her head to look back towards the doorway, towards her bed - and sleep she knew wouldn't come. She didn't answer herself.

Half an hour later her preparations were complete - she stood in her ritual room, surrounded by concentric circles drawn in metallic paint, meant to guard and ward her body and soul. These connected via lines to another set of concentric circles, which were empty - waiting to be filled.

"Agrazh Numoros Sepandarch, Ru Yirimar Tepograsan Shanan-Im Ipizimech, Ul Fradeni Dros Kres Supurinarma!

The light that built with every world of the incantation she congealed with a blinding purple flash as she finished the spell, and as the room came back into view a figure stood in the other concentric circle. It was tall - not tall like the beastmen had been tall, within normal human proportions - it stood eight feet tall and half as broad, a mountain of a humanoid with skin the same deep purple as the light that had brought him forth.

"And that's definitely a he." Maria thought. Aside from the muscular body that would put any huma bodybuilder to shame, between his legs were a pair of huge cocks, one top the other, looking as thick around as one of Maria's forearms. Even soft they were intimidatingly sized, but when hard…

They twitched, and as if reading her thoughts seemed to harden slightly. Maria swallowed as she felt herself grow damp between her thighs, and raised her eyes to the Shanan-Im's face. He had had two bright green eyes, a heavy brow, a bald skull and a brace of tentacles across what would be the chin and jaw on a human man. The tentacles writhed slightly as their eyes met.

"Why have you summoned me, woman of Earth?" The Shanan-Im asked. His tone was deep but even.

"I am Spellweaver, a defender of Earth. Some of the beastfolk of your world have come into the service of a criminal, who uses them to aid in his evil deeds. I am here to request you recall them, and prevent him from using them further."

Spellweaver's voice was steady as she gazed up at the stoic face of the Shanan-Im. This was a way she could help stop Warlock - she wasn't going to fail!

Flip a coin - heads!

"It is done. They have been recalled." Galogash said, as he ended the sending spell to communicate with his own plane and the arcane energies around his hand faded. His face-tentacles twitched in what Spellweaver had come to recognise was a Shanan-Im's smile.

Spellweaver smiled back at him. They had long since abandoned the summoning circles, given that Galogash clearly meant her no harm, and settled away from the ritual area. Spellweaver had made a pot of coffee and they both had cooling, half-drunk cups before them; she sat on a chair beside a small table while the Shanan-Im sat cross-legged on the floor, leaving their two eyes level with each other.

"Thank you. I - and the people of Earth - appreciate how swiftly you've addressed this."

"It is I who should be thanking you. They're Vildonazh's servants, and he and I are old rivals. We have been for a century, ever since the War in the Nightlands and the Congress of Jade, when - ah, I won't bore you with the details of Agadash politics. Still, his inability to control his vassal's will help me take him down a peg or two in the Council, perhaps even get him evicted from it entirely. There's a reason we don't generally let our servants out of Agadash, and he seems to have forgotten it."

Spellweaver desperately wished she had pen and paper to write down everything Galogash mentioned, though asking to do so would be extremely rude. Summoning rituals were all well and good for getting a being from another plane of existence to Earth, but a magician still had to work out how to convince them to do what they wanted. Her knowledge about the politics of other planes was spotty at best - other beings she had summoned were not particularly chatty and good books on magic were often old and extremely behind the times on events, allegiances and rivalries in arcane realms.

Still, he was by far the kindest and most pleasant of the extraplanar beings she had met - and every gesture he made sent ripples through his defined musculature and increased the wetness between her thighs.

Spellweaver made her decision.

She leaned forward, allowing her robe to billow outwards and her breasts to rest on the table. The nightwear she had on left her cleavage looking fantastic, even if she did say so herself - not to mention how thin it was, and how much of the rest of her soft skin it left uncovered. Spellweaver was a snack, and she knew it.

"It's a couple of hours until dawn ends the summoning… perhaps we could find something else to do?". Spellweaver made her voice husky and breath as she finished speaking, and her eyes fell to the spot between Galogash's legs where she could still see his massive cocks on display.

She saw those cocks twitch again. She licked her lips.

"I am sorry, but I would prefer not to with a human. I find it… unpleasant." Galogash looked away, clearly uncomfortable. "Though if you are in need to carnal relief, I am sure some of my vassals would be more than willing? Do you have a preference on the kind of beastman you enjoy?"

Spellweaver's jaw clenched.

@toskalain

Penumbra is shadowing Kyrie (lol) on a stakeout. It's a low-risk job, some powerless gang members trading cocaine for guns… Or so they'd assumed. But the drug is much more dangerous to the heroes than cocaine, and Kyrie has to act! (I have a couple ideas but I want you to flex your creative writing hehe)

"Heads up." Kyrie lowered her hand from her earpiece as Visionary's voice cut out, and turned to see Penumbra's dark eyes focused on her, an eager expression on her face.

"Visionary has gotten some new data and thinks that they'll be a big cocaine deal going on at the south end of Richmond Heights. Speedfreak and Spellweaver are still staking out that new mad scientist's lair, and we're closer, so it's on us." Kyrie turned and stepped up the the edge of the roof, her white costume glowing in the light of the full moon, looking northwards across the city towards Richmond Heights. She and her mentee were stood on an apartment block 10 stoies high, high enough to see large parts of the city spread out before them.

"Cocaine." Kyrie heard Penumbra mutter in derision. She could practically hear the younger woman rolling her eyes; a moment later, as Kyrie turned towatrds Penumbra and raised an eyebrow, the younger heroine let out a yelp like she had only just remembered that Kyrie's hearing was superhuman. Penumbra cringed under her scrutiny.

"Do you have some objection to us chasing down drug dealers, Penumbra?" Kyrie asked, her voice deceptively even.

"Ah… um…. well…" Penumbra stammered. Kyrie's eyebrow stayed up, and eventually Penumbra found her voice. "It's just that this seems really mundane? We've all got superpowers, we should go after threats that need us to deal with, not take on small-time crooks who the police can handle."

Kyrie sighed.

"I've heard those same ideas before; decades ago, from a previous generation of heroines. But when we tried it, it went… bad." Penumbra expresson changed to one of slight discomfort, and Kyrie's heart felt heavy in her chest as it always did when she recounted the actions of heroines who had long sinced stopped fighting the good fight. "Maybe it does get true supervillains off the streets quicker if we focus on them to the exclusion of all else. But it also means the only time civilians see us on TV is when two superhumans have a brawl in the middle of the city, and then those civilians see us as all the same and start to wonder why they put up with it at all."

"So you're saying that going after ordinary criminals doesn't make civilians safer, but does make them feel like we're keeping them safe? Idiots."

Kyrie felt a sudden flare of rage at Penumbra's impertinence, but kept control of herself apart from her voice taking on a harder edge. "No, I'm saying it does help us keep them safe in the long run, because it creates wider support for superheroines so the government doesn't feel the need to make some kind of Registration Act, or the like."

Penumbra's lip curled in clear distaste at the concept, but then sighed and grumbled "OK."

Kyrie decided it would be unproductive to push her student any more. She turned back to look across the city again, and suddenly felt weary - mentoring three young heroines was hard work.

"Think about it while we head to Richmond Heights."

The journey halfway across the city took the pair of them only a few minutes; Kyrie flew, while Penumbra glided across rooftops and power lines in her half-tangible shadow-state. Penumbra followed her lead, as Kyrie searched the city with her superhuman senses. The dark streets were quiet and the two of them passed mostly without notice; she also took the opportunity to point out to Penumbra things she should watch out for; the age of gang signs graffitied on walls, the streets that were too dirty or too clean; the businesses most likely to be fronts of different kinds.

Suddenly, she overheard a snippet of conversation, and guided Penumbra to a low rooftop so they could look down on their quarry.

Peering down from the ledge, the two could see a small courtyard in the centre of a city block, with two narrow alleys leading to it. At each entrance there was a single parked car, their trunks facing towards each other, and there was a group of men standing at each car. Kyrie felt a brief satisfaction as she observed Penumbra taking in the scene; the other woman was clearly noticing the concealed weapons and the way that how each man stood indicated who was in charge.

"-on't appreciate suggestions that we make some new deal now, Lenny. We've got a good thing going here - you really want to spoil it?" One man said. He was tall and slender, and looked reasonably well dressed in a shirt and jacket, but moved in such a deliberate, calculating way that Kyrie was sure he had military training. He was clearly the leader of one of the two groups.

"Listen, that was just a miscommunication" said the leader of the other group. Shorter and stockier, he was dressed casually, and had a jovial smile upon his face that contrasted with the grim expressions of his three henchmen. "The current deal stands, I just had an additional product I thought you might be interested in."

There was a moments' silence as the taller man considered, and then he nodded. Lenny turned, slowly lifting a small brick out of the trunk of his own car.

"This is Apidranidol." Kyrie's breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly found old memories creeping back to the front of her mind at the word. "Or Appy, as the kids call it. Lowers inhibitions, removes self doubts, makes you cut loose. A small amount makes your own night, a medium dose makes women very… enthusiastic, and a large dose can work as a truth serum if you're careful."

"Spare me the sales pitch, I know what Appy does. I also know how rare it is, and how much heat it will bring down on me." The well-dressed man said. Kyrie was barely paying attention; her mind made itself up instantly. They couldn't leave the drug on the streets a moment longer. She laid a hand on Penumbra's shoulder, distracting the other woman from the conversation.

"That drug is extremely dangerous - it was first made by an old foe of mind called Dr Unthinkable. On my mark, we'll attack. I'll subdue the men; you prioritise seizing the brick of drugs and keeping it safe."

Kyrie could hear Penumbra's heart started racing as the younger heroine realised they had stumbled into exactly the kind of thing she had thought a superheroine should be doing. Penumbra nodded, and Kyrie saw her begin to spread her shadowy out across the rooftop, ready to strike.

"Three, two, one, mark."

Kyrie accelerated from nothing to half the speed of sound in an instant, diving toward the middle of one of the cars; it folded into a V around her, and she pulled herself from the wreckage with the ease of an ordinary woman emerging from the sea. She spared Penumbra a glance; the other woman had taken the Appy from Lenny and was wrapping him up in one of her umbral tentacles.

Satisfied, Kyrie advanced into lenny's henchmen with superhuman speed, seizing guns as they were pulled from jackets and belts - leaving broken fingers in her wake - then destroying the guns with her bare hands, and giving the men light taps that sent them sprawling even as gunfire erupted around her.

She raised her eyes and saw that the other criminals were firing wildly in their direction; Penumbra, caught between the two groups, flopped to the ground, unable to go intagible and still hold onto the package of drugs. Kyrie's eyes widened and she let out a Elysian warcry as she shot forward to guard Penumbra' vulnerable physical form with her body; just as she reached the other heroine, another gunshot rang out and the brick of drugs exploded, a white powder spilling out and filling the courtyard.

Kyrie only had a moment to react, and took in a massive breath, pulling most of the cloud into her mouth and pulling it away from Penumbra. Even her durability wuld be tested by so much of the drug, and as she felt the unpleasantly sweet taste on her tongue she turned towards Penumbra and saw she had only been half-successful; there were faint flicks of white on the other woman's mouth, although from the look in her eyes she still had her wits about her. Penumbra's eyes looked desperately to Kyrie for guidance, for salvation.

Kyrie felt lightheaded, sick to her stomach at the thought of experiencing the effects of Appy once again. She grabbed Penumbra's shoulder and pulled her close.

"Penumbra, run. Get out of here as quickly as you can and the drug might not have too strong an affect." Penumbra vanished in a blur of darkness, and Kyrie was briefly grateful that her students all followed her order so well before she steeled herself, turning towards the reloading criminals. She had handled Appy before - she wasn't going to give in to its effects!

Flip a coin… tails!

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyrie preened as her hands jerked the two cocks pressed up towards her face, desperate to feel their seed on her skin, even as another buried itself in her cunt. She was sprawled out atop an crate in the same alleyway, the men from the buyer's side of the drug deal surrounding her. Their leader was still unconscious from the chaos of the brief firefight, but his three henchmen were hard, eager and virile.

"Take it, you fucking slut." Malcolm, the man between her legs, growled as her pounded into her, tightening his hands on her hips. "Your stupid superfriends put my brother in jail, least you can do is make it up to me." He lifted a hand and gave Kyrie's left breast a harsh slap, the impact making both her tits jiggle on her chest. Mike, the man to Kyrie's left pushed forward as well, slapping his cock against her face. She knew she needed it inside her mouth, and wrapped her lips around the head without a second thought, sucking with a force no human woman could match even as her hands jerked and stroked Shawn, the third criminal surrounding her.

Her students, the cocaine deal, the fight and the drug brick - all of those had faded out of Kyrie's mind. Her whole world had narrowed down to what she wanted - and what she wanted was to be used like a cheap whore. No sooner did an idea come to her then she did it - although she was quite content to let the men make most of the decisions. They were so eager to fuck her, and she was so eager to be fucked by them. Looking down between the valley of her tits, which shook with each of Malcolm's thrusts, she could see his cock flex as it drove into her again and again, sending waves of pleasure through her body, even as the man's grunts of effort became louder and his degrading words became fewer.

She felt Mike take hold of her hair and drag her lips down his cock, forcing her to take more and more of his length into her mouth. He began to fuck her face with short, sharp thrusts, pulling on her hair with enough force it would have hurt any other woman. But not her. She wanted him to do whatever he wanted, so long as he came.

It didn't take long. She soon felt the same twitching from Mike's cock she had felt when it had been inside her pussy, and took care to caress the underside of his cockhead with her tongue even as she jerked Shawn off more and wrapped her legs tighter around Malcolm, pulling him deeper into her. She was rewarded with half a dozen shots of thick, rich seed straight into her mouth, which she gulped down eagerly, and then the delightful feeling of Malcolms cock clenching and spurting inside her as well that sent a brief, sharp orgasm flowing through her body.

The two men pulled back, breathing heavily, their half-hard cocks slick with both her juices and their own. She looked up at Shawn, giving an enticing smile as she continued to jerk him, eager to see what he wanted to do next.

"Fuck." Mike panted.

"Yeah, she's insatiable. Looks like you're up, Shawn." Malcolm groaned, his hand gently caressing his cock back to full hardness.

"Hey, don't keep her all to yourselves." Another voice joined the three around her, and Kyrie saw the men make space for the newcomer, one of the men she'd sent sprawling in the fight that seemed like it had taken place a lifetime ago, but he was clearly well known to the three men she was already entertaining. He was tall, tattooed and muscular, and he already had his long, hard cock out and ready to use on her.

"You want a turn, Pete?" Malcolm asked. "We've all had a go with her, her pussy's fucking incredible."

"Move her down a bit, I want to fuck those tits." Pete ordered, to the jeers of the other men around her, but they complied and Kyrie felt their rough hands manhandling her down until her knees were on the floor. She looked up at the muscled form of the criminal, her hands and bare skull covered in tattoos, and smiled as she wiggled her torso a little, sending of heavy breasts jiggling. She could see his eyes follow them.

"Not a fan of sloppy seconds, then, Pete?" Mike joked.

"Sloppy fifths more like." said Shawn, as he moved into a better position to shove his cock in her mouth, and there was a round of laughter.

"Fuck off, I'm pretty sure the first time I ever jerked it was to those tits. No way I'm missing this chance." With not a word more Pete reached down and seized her breasts. Even his large hands couldn't fully encircle each perky mounds, and his fingers dug into her flesh as he stepped forward and pressed them together around his cock, his ample length completely smothered by her voluptuous flesh.

Kyrie's body shook in thrill at his harsh grip and the way he groaned as he began to thrust his cock into her cleavage. Being used like this, as simply the big pair of tits that so many men saw her as, filled her with satisfaction and joy, pleasure building through her body. That he had dreamed of it for most of his life made it even better. Why didn't she do this more? Why didn't she make the dreams of more of her horny fans come true, let more men and women use her like the fucktoy she loved being?

It was crowded with four cocks so close to each other around her upper body, but that only made it all the sweeter as she jerked shafts, fondled balls, sucked on heads and ran lips along the undersides of the beautiful cocks around her, revelling in the groans and curses the men uttered, all while Pete thrust his cock between her tits with desperate, wild motions. She could hear his delicious panting, feel his hands grow sweaty as they retightened their grip on her rack, and feel his balls collide with her underboob with each jerk of his hips. Each sensation came at her in a rush, filling a yawning pit of need inside her.

It didn't take long for Pete to come, and he let out a wordless yelp as he reached his climax; with one more final heavy thrust that buried his cock deep enough in her cleavage for the head to stick out the top, he erupted, wads of cum shooting out to land on the tops of her breasts and her face. She turned away from the cock she was sucking to open her mouth and take in some of the delicious, salty fluid, swirling in around in her mouth before she swallowed and returned to sucking.

Pete stepped back as his orgasm subsided, leaving the space around her slightly more open.

"I'm going next, it's been ages since I had a turn in her cunt." Mike stated, moving towards the spot between her legs

"You went twice early on man, fuck you." Shawn responded, raising an arm out to stop Mike. "Lets flip her around, I want to make those fat cheeks of hers clap."

"Pity Speedfreak isn't here, she's got even fatter cheeks." Malcolm joked. There was another subdued round of laughs, but neither Mike or Shawn moved away from each other.

"Boys, boys, there's enough for all of you." Kyrie purred, as she stood and pushed Mike down onto the crate where she had been lying before climbing atop him. He barely had time to notice the change in position before she seized his cock, which pointed proudly upwards, and guided it into her cunt, groaning as she was stretched out once again. Then she turned around to look Shawn in the eye.

"I've got another hole back here" she said, and she almost laughed at how quickly he scrambled towards her, seizing great handfuls of her asscheeks and spreading them before he began to push the head of his cock against her asshole. Kyrie's eyes fluttered as Shawn entered her even as Mike grabbed her waist and began to buck his hips below her, and her mind went blank for a few seconds at the pleasure of her ass and pussy being filled at once.

She was brought back into focus by the groping hands squeezing her breasts, uncaring of their friend's seed on them as they manhandled her tits and twisted her nipples. Kyrie laughed, reached out to take hold of Pete and Malcolm's cocks, and let herself be fucked again and again and again.

Kyrie groaned as she awoke, her senses returning in an instant. It was still dark, and she lay naked atop the crate, the alley quiet around her save for the breathing of unconscious, exhausted men. She took hold of one heavy breast with each hand and winced momentarily at the sheer amount of cum that was splattered over her tits. She stood, the motion pushing away one of the criminals who had collapsed next to her; he did not wake.

"Enough Appy got into the air they must all have had a dose." She mused. "Lost control same as I did, and didn't stop until their bodies gave out." She did not feel anywhere near as bad as she expected; being under the effect of Appy while surrounded by normal men - none of them particularly unattractive - was far more pleasant than while imprisoned with one of Dr Unthinkable's monstrous creations. The tingling in her loins was rather pleasant, and it had been a while since she had gotten laid.

She broke off the train of thought as she found an empty cloth bag to wipe herself down with, redressed in her armour which was scattered about the alley, and picked up the forgotten brick of Appy, still three-quarters intact. The men needed to be taken into custody, but firstly she needed to track down her students. Surely Penumbra couldn't have gotten into too much trouble without her?

---

@shatteredshardsofsilver

Ooh. I saw the previous one and always wanted to try submitting a prompt for that. Now I've actually got the chance to try it out! Anyways, prompt: "In an attempt to learn more about her parents, Spellweaver has found herself standing before an acclaimed hypnotist. He claims that by putting her into a trance, he'll be able to unearth memories of her parents and help her magic improve. But his constant glances at her cleavage imply a different motivation in mind…"

The sun was setting, and the last stragglers were leaving the park where the circus had set up for the week. Spellweaver, hidden behind a veil, occasionally checked on the colorful tents and booths and their eccentric occupants as the energy of the day wound down and the circus' employees began to clear up the day's litter and put away their attractions for the night. Yet her focus stayed on one specific booth; "Magnificant Marvolo's Mansion of Mentalism".

It wasn't much of a mansion, truth be told, and she highly doubted that Marvolo was his real name; yet as far as she could tell, he genuinely possessed significant mental powers, far stronger than the crude psychology, cold reading and suggestion that most so-called hypnotists used. She didn't know if his powers were magic or telepathy-adjacent or something weirder, but so long as he didn't commit crimes with them she didn't particularly care.

The tent flap opened and what was probably Marvolo's last visitor of the day wandered out. He was a man in middle age, slender and graying; as he stepped outside he blinked, as if taking in the world for the first time; an expression of deep contemplation etched itself on his face as he began to walk towards the park exit.

A muttered "Flaveram Coronthos" showed Spellweaver something of the man's mental state; his mind was structured quite differently to how it had been fifteen minutes before when he had entered Marvolo's Mansion. The spell did not allow her to read the man's mind, but she could see that his memories fit together differently, and that his mind had a clarity and direction it lacked before.

As certain as she could be, Spellweaver strode over to the booth and slipped into the tent flap. The shift to darkness out of the harsh glare of the setting sun meant it took her a moment to spy Marvolo, sitting behind his table like he had been waiting for her.

"I wondered when you would come in." His voice was smooth and quite deep; soothing, yet with a hint of something rougher and darker. It was a nice voice, but even so Spellweaver prepared herself to cast a spell, wary of an ambush.

"How did you know I was coming?" she asked.

"I felt a hint of something affecting the mind of my last customer, and recently. Then I felt something on him as he was departing." Marvolo smirked, showing a hint of white teeth, and Spellweaver found herself blushing slightly. He was a handsome man, with slick-backed dark hair, tanned skin, and a dark moustache that on him looked refined. The classic, but well-fitting, black suit completed the stage-magician look. "I guessed."

"Well, you guessed correctly." Spellweaver retorted. The man's mental powers were magic-based then. Convenient for her; she was confident in her magical defenses. She strode forward, adding a little extra sway to her hips to keep the man off guard, before sitting down on the other side of the table from him. He wasn't the only one who could use his looks to his advantage. "I wanted to see if you were the real deal."

"Oh, I doubt what little I can do would be impressive to as distinguished a mage as Spellweaver of the [HERO GROUP NAME]." He demurred. "But I am the 'real deal', yes. I do have certain mental gifts. I do hope I'm not in any legal trouble, am I? To the best of my knowledge, I've never committed a crime with my powers."

He gave another rogueish smile, and Spellweaver sat down as she caught his eyes. They were a deep blue, and she could see how a weak-willed person could be mesmorised by them.

"No, I actually want your help with something". She leant forward slightly, to give the man a better view of her cleavage. She caught the way his eyes dipped before refocusing on her face, and at look of confusion she continued. "I don't know my true heritage. I have faint memories of my parents, enough that I am confident they were also mages, but I cannot remember much of my early childhood, or why they disappeared and I ended up in an orphanage. I was hoping you might be able to reveal any repressed memories that I have.”

Marvolo’s brow furrowed slightly.

“And you’re not worried about your secret identity?” He asked.

“Not particularly.” Spellweaver said. “I don’t have a family, or close friends who aren’t mages of one form or another. I don’t have anyone to protect. Besides-” she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m sure I can trust you, can’t I?”

She gave Marvolo a smile, and he gave a confident nod.

“Of course. Shall we begin?” At her affirmative, he drew out a box of matches, lit a candle, and raised it between them over the table. Spellweaver felt magical energies pressing at the borders of her mind, and gradually allowed them to take purchase on her thoughts. He wasn’t a very strong mage, and it wasn’t like he was a threat to her, was he?

Flip a coin… heads!

“Yes, just like that. You look wonderful, dear.”

Maria gave a small smile as she gave the camera a sultry look, twisting her hips as she lay spread out on the bed to give Marvolo better shots of the curve of her ass over her shoulder. The photoshoot… that was what she was doing, wasn’t it? A photoshoot in his “Magical Mansion”?

“Tell me why I agreed to this again?” She wondered as he snapped more pictures and gave murmurs of encouragement and praise. A brief frown crossed her face as she got the sudden sense she was forgetting something.

“Well, with how much I travel for work, and your, er… hours.” He said, something unreadable in his voice. “You said it might be nice for me to have something for those lonely nights.”

“Mmmhmmm, that does sound like something I would say…” Maria said, rolling across the sheets of Marvolo’s bed onto her back. She still had her Spellweaver costume on, the bodice just barely containing the swell of her breasts after the mussing of maneuvering herself on his bed. Again she had a momentary sense of uneasy, before she refocused on Marvolo, holding his camera above her. A steady warmth was building in her core at his directions, his words of praise and the sheer idea of taking photos like this, and she obligingly arched her back to push her chest towards the camera.

“But why the Spellweaver costume? If these got out…” She trailed off, even as she continued to pose for him.

“Many men are in relationships with beautiful women, but only I am in one with Spellweaver. Is it so wrong for me to enjoy that fact?” Marvolo gave another of those roguish grins she liked so much, and she couldn’t help but blush a little further. “No, I suppose not.” Maria giggled. Of course, why shouldn’t her boyfriend get to enjoy that. She was lucky, after all, to have such a good-looking and charming lover.

“And on that note, my dear, perhaps we could go a little further?” Marvolo’s face had a look of apprehension on it, that once again aroused a slight discomfort in Maria. Yet she didn’t let it stop her, and raised he hands to the top of her costume's dress.

"Like this?" she added with a smile, pulling down the purple fabric of her dress, taking each of her tits in her hands and hefting them for Marvolo's viewing pleasure and the camera. Her fingers drifted to her nipples, rolling the dark nubs between her fingers. They hardened quickly, and for a few minutes she let her eyes flutter in bliss as she groped herself and Marvolo took photos. Slowly the heat within her core grew greater and she felt her cunt grow damp. She needed something - someone, inside her, and she let of her hands drift lower, slipping between the slit of her costume-dress to circle her pussy. Conscious thought began to drift away from her mind as she imagined the finger she pressed inside herself was Marvolo's…

The unease came back. Why didn't she know what Marvolo's cock was like? Why couldn't she imagine how it felt within her? Why could she not recall them ever making love?

It felt like a window shattered in her mind, and then Maria remembered.

"Bastard!" She shouted, arcane syllables coming to her lips as she shot a bolt of darkness at the hypnotising pervert. He yelped and ducked, the camera falling onto the bed as he ducked between the canvas doors of his "mansion" and fled. Maria pulled up her Spellweaver costume before chasing after him, only to emerge into pitch darkness. The sun had set hours ago, and the even the circus' electric lights had long since been turned off. There was no sign of Marvolo.

"Bastard." Maria said again, her anger bleeding out into a deeper, older frustration. She hadn't even gotten to learn anything about her family!

---

@shatteredshardsofsilver

One more prompt, this time for Penumbra: "Penumbra's been spying on a corrupt businessman for quite some time now. Thanks to her power over shadows, she can hide her presence in the shadows of his room so he wouldn't even know she's there. She just needs a little more evidence and then he'll be off to jail. The only problem is, this businessman's penthouse is full of scented candles … especially ones with aphrodisiac properties. The businessman's immune, but poor Penumbra's almost at her limit. Now it's a question of what will come out first: the last piece of evidence, or Penumbra's moans as she blows her cover while masturbating."

Penumbra glanced around the room once more from her position in the shadows of the penthouse, satisfied that Gary Donovan couldn’t see her. The older businessman was checking over documents and fidgeting nervously, toying with the cuffs of his immaculate suit or slicking back his grey hair with one hand. Penumbra had grown very familiar with Donovan over the weeks she had been investigating him, and every detail of his face – handsome, if she was into older men which she definitely wasn’t – was etched into her mind. But she had never seen him this nervous, even in meetings with gang leaders and low-level supervillains.

The man’s company, Donovan Incorporated, was a high-end tech manufacturer, and Donovan had clearly decided there was even more money to be made for his company in selling advanced technology to organised crime, producing more of the unique devices put together by mad scientists and selling them to gangs, or else providing gear that helped supervillains compensate for weaknesses or limits to their powers. Her fellow heroines had tangled with the results of Donovan’s dealings several times, and the results had been bad.

But while a few weeks of spying from the shadows of Donovan’s swanky penthouse apartment was enough to gather evidence that Donovan was behind it all, Penumbra was still missing one crucial piece of information. Who was introducing all of Donovan’s new clients to him? It wasn’t as if the CEOs of middling technology companies moved in the same social circles as drug gangs and street-level supervillains.

So she had waited, until a day when Donovan would be meeting with someone he only referred to as “Our Benefactor” in his discussions with other criminals. The benefactor was who Penumbra needed to discover and catch – because if they didn’t, and simply arrested Donovan and his accomplices, then the Benefactor could easily move on and repeat their scheme with some other company.

Penumbra watched as Donovan checked his watch and then, nervously, stood up from his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a bunch of candles. She watched in amusement as he moved around the room, placing and lighting each candle with deliberate care, and slowly began to smell the scent of the candles – deep, earthy and rich.

“Is the Benefactor a woman?” She wondered. “Is she hoping to seduce her?” She almost giggled at the idea, as a sudden image of Donovan rutting into a woman appeared fully-formed in her mind. She shook her head, surprised at the lewdness of her thoughts. he wasn’t an unattractive man, but she was on a mission!

Refocusing on Donovan, she noticed he had sat by the entrance to his penthouse apartment, looking more relaxed. The smell was clearly helping him. Penumbra glanced over the strong lines of his body for a few moments before she heard a knock at the door.

“Enter.” Donovan called. “He had a nice voice”, Penumbra thought, “He sounds good giving orders.” One of Donovan’s guards opened the door.

“She’s here, sir.”

“Send her in.”

Even in her quasi-shadow state, Penumbra felt body warm up and her heart beat in anticipation at the arrival of the Benefactor, the scent of the candles tickling her nostrils.

Yet when Lady Fate walked in the door, it was all she could do not to gasp out loud and give herself away.

Lady Fate, leader of the super-crime gang Oracle, stood in the black catsuit she always wore, her platinum-blond hair cascading behind her head. Penumbra couldn’t help but run her eyes over the woman’s curvaceous form, taking in Lady Fate’s long, shapely legs, the swell of her hips, her narrow waist and ample chest that stretched the catsuit in fascinating ways - not to mention the obscene bulge of the woman's cock that distended the front of the catsuit. If Penumbra had been fully corporeal she would have swallowed.

The two greeted each other, and Penumbra’s shadowy form followed them unseen as they moved back to the living room and settled in to discuss the deals they were making, surrounded by half a dozen of the strange candles Donovan had lit.

Yet Penumbra found herself struggling to stay focused on their discussion, her attention wandering to their bodies instead. With each minute that passed her thoughts got more lewd as she thought about pulling down the zipper of Lady Fate’s catsuit, about Donovan’s strong hands gripping her wrists as he pinned her, about Lady Fate’s long, delicate fingers running all over her body.

“What is… wrong with me? Why am I like this?” she wondered, before another thought came to her of Lady Fate sitting on her face.

“I think we’ve tortured her long enough, don’t you?” Lady Fate spoke, amusement clear in her voice. Pulled from her thoughts, Penumbra focused back on the pair – only to see Lady Fate stepping forward to where her shadowy form lurked. Penumbra, realising she had been rattled, thought about escaping – but that thought died as she stared into Lady Fate’s golden eyes.

“You’ve been too obvious, my dear. Donovan passed his suspicions onto me, and I gave him a gift, something I’ve wated to try out for a while.”

Penumbra did nothing, transfixed and unable to move, her gaze falling to the curve of Lady Fate’s full lips as she spoke.

“See, I guessed that in your less-corporeal form, you’re more like a gas than anything else – and thus probably more vulnerable to gaseous effects. Like the aphrodisiac that’s those candles have been giving off.”

Penumbra tired to move, her shadowy form flowing through the room towards a window – but she moved slowly, sluggishly, as her mind filled with fantasies of Donovan, Lady Fate and herself.

“There you are.” Penumbra turned back to see Lady Fate smiling at her, while Donovan’s eyes were wide. “Looks like I was right.”

Lady Fate stepped towards her. Penumbra realised that at some point she had stopped fleeing.

“Now, if you’re able, you can run away, of course. But I think right now, you probably rather want to stay, don’t you?” Lady Fate leaned forward slightly, and Penumbra found herself staring as the older woman sensuously lowered the zipper on the front of her catsuit until it revealed her deep, inviting cleavage.

Deep within her own mind, Penumbra’s thoughts struggled to the surface. “I have what I need! I just need to run! I can’t be beaten by some candles!”

Flip a coin… tails!

“Gaghk, gaghk, gaghk!” The penthouse filled with the sounds of gagging and moaning as Penumbra bobbed up and down on Donovan’s cock while Lady Fate’s hand guided her head, her eyes growing damp with tears every time the head of his cock made contact with the entrance to her throat.

“Need more, need more, need more” were the only thoughts that passed through her mind as she sucked the corrupt businessman off. The taste of his pre-cum, salty and delicious, combined with the scent of the candles that still burned throughout the room, brought a quiver to her core every time it touched her tongue.

“That’s it, well done, you’re doing so well.” Lady Fate cooed, as she leaned in to kiss Penumbra’s cheek. Lady Fate’s other hand had long since wound its way beneath Penumbra’s robes and begun to tease the outer lips of her cunt with gentle caresses that sent shakes through Penumbra’s whole body, and the pleasure building in Penumbra’s core just drove her on in worshipping Donovan’s long, hard cock.

Penumbra looked up at Donovan for a moment. Somewhere within her, something protested. The man was a criminal, corrupt and evil… but she kept sucking. “I don’t care. I’ve got to have this in me.” she thought as she pulled back slightly, running her tongue around the head of his cock. The older man groaned, his body tensing as he tried to stop himself from cumming, to Penumbra’s frustration.

“See, Donovan? Dealing with these superheroines is easy when you know the trick. This is something my organisation will definitely help you with.” Lady Fate’s husky voice broke through the businessman’s focus, and as he glanced at her Penumbra took her chance and dove down onto his cock again, finally taking it within her throat. It was only there for moments when Donovan let out a groan and began to cum, ropes of seed shooting down Penumbra’s throat.

Penumbra pulled back, enough that she could taste the cum that filled her mouth, and relaxed as Lady Fate continued to finger her, the older woman’s thumb beginning to gently rub her clit.

“So good. So good.” Penumbra thought as she swirled and swallowed the cum that had filled her mouth.

Lady Fate’s strong hands pulled her head to the side and Penumbra melted into the other womans kiss. She exulted in the feel of Lady Fate’ full, lush lips on her own and let the other woman’s tongue enter her mouth as Lady Fate pulled their bodies together and Penumbra felt the other woman’s breasts press against her side

Then Lady Fate pulled back, her hand leaving its place between Penumbra’s legs. Penumbra whined.

“Please. Please.” All she could think of was the burning in her loins, her desperate need for pleasure. Lady Fate was a supervillainess. Some part of her wanted to use her powers, to restrain the other woman and contact the police or her fellow heroines.

But each thought along those lines ended as soon as it began as some fresh stimulus distracted her focus towards her arousal, towards the frantic beat of her heard and the heat in her cheeks and the emptiness within her. Her eyes caught on the hint of cleavage revealed by the low zipper on Lady Fate’s bodysuit, the way the same bodysuit hugged the curves of the older woman’s huge tits, the smell of the candles and cum and the other’s womans smoky, alluring perfume, the bulge between Lady Fate's legs…

“Looks like my partner here won’t be ready again for a while.” Lady Fate purred, and Penumbra looked over at Donovan, who had fallen back to lie on the bed, his soft cock hanging out of his trousers. At Lady Fate’s words he seemed to stir himself a little, then lay back down as his body failed to respond properly and muttered some excuses. Penumbra whined again.

“Don’t worry, my dear, I won’t let so good a girl as you go unrewarded.” Penumbra preened at Lady Fate’s words as she turned back towards the older woman, only for her eyes to go wide. Lady Fate hd pulled down the frontzipper of her catsuit, revealed her large, perky breasts, dark pebbled nipples, and a truly vast cock. It was almost as thick and long as Penumbra's forearm, with a huge vein that seemed to throb before Penumbra's very eyes and drops of precum glistening at the tip.

As Lady Fate loomed above her, the strap on swaying in front of Penumbra’s face, Lady Fate reached down and caressed Penumbra’s cheek.

“Since you’ve been so good, I’ll let you choose which position to take this in.”

Penumbra’s heart beat in her throat as she stared at Lady Fate's cock. “So big so big so big.” It took her a few seconds for Lady Fate’s words to hit, and then she scrabbled up onto the bed next to Donovan, lying down on her back. As she did so she felt a tug on her robes, and then a ripping sound as they were torn from her utterly; tumbling onto her back, she saw Lady Fate standing holding the tattered remnants of her costume, a grin to triumph on her face.

A faint hint of embarrassment rose up in Penumbra at her nudity; her breasts and pussy exposed to the cool air of the penthouse, her pale skin looking even paler beneath the cold lights. But the emotion was soon buried by her lust as here eyes focused on Lady Fate.

“I knew you were going to choose that.” Lady Fate smirked as she stepped forward. One of her hands reached out to squeeze Penumbra’s breast and Penumbra shuddered, spikes of pleasure spreading from her nipples through her body.

“Prepare yourself, my dear.” Lady Fate said as her other hand took a solid grip on Penumbra’s exposed hip.

Then she thrust her cock into Penumbra’s needy, empty cunt, and Penumbra’s mind went blank.

---

@toskalain

Speedfreak's identity gets out, and her girlfriend either becomes a target, or maybe even turns on her.

Speedfreak cursed again as she sped through the city streets, cars slowed to a crawl and pedestrians still like statues around her. Ethan - the man who had been blackmailing her - had gotten himself involved with organised crime. She wasn't quite sure what he'd been trying to do, but whatever idiocy he'd been involved with had gotten him killed. Rachel wasn't going to shed a tear.

And now the Kalingev mafia syndicate knew her secret identity, and had Emily. She'd come home from a day of work (and covert superheroing) to find their apartment broken into, Emily gone, and a message from the Kalingev on the table.

They wanted her, and promised to let Emily go if she turned herself in to them. Rachel had been so angry she'd torn the letter into half a dozen pieces, and had had to put them all back together to find out where the exchange with Emily was going to take place. Even as she ran through the city streets, she could feel the rage bubbling inside her, desperate to get free. It had taken all her willpower to not immediately race off after Emily, and instead ask her fellow heroines for help. She didn't dare ask them to attack the Kalingez with her, as that might prompt the mafia to release her identity online, something which - as a "gesture of good faith", according to the letter - they had not done yet.

They were two-bit crooks, thieves and murderers, and Speedfreak was going to make them pay. But she had to be smart about things.

As she approached the warehouse where she was due to meet with the crime family, she sped around it to observe the perimeter. There were three guards keeping watch from different angles; one advantage of superspeed was it let Speedfreak scout locations without being spotted, so long as she was careful.

"Three outside, and however many inside." Speedfreak double-checked her phone, to make sure everything was ready, and took a few moments to go over what she needed to say.

"Right. Time to face the music."

As she sped in to the warehouse, Speedfreak's mind briefly wandered and she thought about Ethan, whose corpse had been found only the night before. She'd hated the man - he was an arrogant rapist with no scruples whatsoever. But she couldn't help regret how getting involved with her had left to his death - if she had had the good sense to flee when he had first approached her in the club, he would still be alive.

Plus… she couldn't deny that she had, on a purely physical level, enjoyed their encounters. Sexist and misogynist as his motives might have been, his self-confidence led to him always making sure to make her cum - often several times - when they fucked. Especially given how much Emily had been working the past few months, and her own superheroics activities… she might have been getting more orgasms from him than from her girlfriend.

Speedfreak shook her head as she burst through the warehouse doors, eager to get Ethan out of her mind, only to find herself in a large room full of pallets and crates, with her girlfriend Emily tied to a chair, half a dozen mobsters with guns surrounding her and two with guns trained on her head, and a video of herself being fucked by Ethan being projected onto the wall. In the film she was bent over in front of him; his hands pulled her arms backwards with a tight grip on her wrists, and his hips thrust into her at a steady pace, sending the flesh of her ass and thighs jiggling.

Turning her head away from the obscene video, Speedfreak took a few moments at super-speed to check Emily was alright. She was bound with rope to the chair and gagged with a piece of cloth. Her blonde hair was dishevelled and her bright blue eyes full of fear, but she looked unharmed. She was wearing her work outfit of a tight pencil skirt and white shirt, but the ropes criss-crossed her abdomen, emphasising the shape of her large breasts which stretched the front of her shirt. Rachel could see at least two of the mobsters leering at Emily, and felt another spike of anger.

Assured that her girlfriend was OK, Speedfreak slowed back to normal speed - and found the dull background noise of the warehouse was actually the slowed-down audio of the video being projected onto the wall, and the whole warehouse could was filled with the sounds of her pleasured moans as Ethan fucked her.

"Ah, Speedfreak." A bearded man stood up from a folding chair, machine gun held lazily at his side. Speedfreak recognised him - Dmitri Kalingev. She'd caught him twice before, but he'd managed to wriggle out of jail both times. And now his men had a gun to her girlfriend's head. He picked up a remote and "We were just enjoying video. Cinematography could use some work, but acting was… very authentic."

He grinned at her, showing cigarette-stained teeth and a single golden tooth amidst them.

"Alright, you've made your point. I came here to make sure Emily gets free."

"Of course. She is unharmed, as you see." Dmitri gestured towards Emily. "We restrain you, we let her go. Simple trade."

"And what happens then?" Speedfreak asked. Dmitri grinned once more.

"I think you have brighter future as actor than as hero. Kalingev family will help you get started with new career!" He laughed, and his mobsters laughed with him. Speedfreak could see the fear in Emily's eyes as she shook her head.

Speedfreak shivered at what the mobsters were suggesting. Fortunately, she had a plan to get her and Emily out of there safe, and to contain the breach of her identity. It would work. It had to.

Flip a coin… heads!

"Turns out, Ethan managed to film both of us without us knowing." Speedfreak said, as she pressed play on her phone. Dmitri opened his mouth to say something, but then his eyes narrowed as the video began to play - and showed him brutally beating Ethan while his gang of thugs looked on, cheered and occasionally joined in.

"I know you've wriggled out of things before, but a murder caught on video? With no obvious superhero involvement for you lawyers to manipulate juries with?" You'd go away for a long, long time."

Speedfreak could see the rage in Dmitri's eyes, but the man managed to control himself, a clenching of his jaw the only other outward sign. She wasn't surprised; before she had started taking them on the Kalingev's had been one of the biggest gangs in the state, and Dmitir hadn't made them that way by being stupid.

"And then your identity gets released, and your life falls apart." He growled. The other mobsters surrounding him looked uneasily at the two of them, suddenly uncertain of what the outcome would be. Speedfreak risked a glance at Emily, who was staring at her with wide eyes, and quickly looked away.

"I know. So I have a deal for you. You let Emily go, and you and what's left of your little gang leave the state. Set up shop somewhere far away from here. You're smart and your men are determined - I'm sure you can carve a place out for yourself. I won't chase you, and neither will any member of the Champions. This video doesn't get released to any authorities, and my name doesn't leave you or your men's lips ever. We stay out of each other's way, and put the whole mess behind us."

"Or you can see if I'm willing to have my identity released to make sure a dozen murderers go to jail."

There were a few moments of silence in the warehouse, all eyes fixed on Dmitri as he weighed her offer. Then finally, he nodded.

"We have deal." He gave another yellow smile. "Nice to see heroine who knows how to play game."

Speedfreak's lip twisted in distaste. "You've got a week."

Dmitri huffed a laugh.

"We will be gone in three days." He gave a whistle, and the two men pointing their guns at Emily lowered them. Speedfreak felt a weight leave her shoulders as the mafia thugs began to leave the warehouse at Dmitri's direction; he was the last to leave, and gave her a nod just before he disappeared out the door.

Rachel let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, her shoulders shuddering with the movement. After another check that the coast was clear, she rushed over to Emily and cut her free from her bindings, helping her blonde girlfriend to her feet and hugging her, words tumbling out of her mouth.

"Emily, thank god you're OK, I'm so sorry that-"

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"

Rachel pulled back, fear gripping her heart as she looked into her girlfriend's eyes. The other woman's face was twisted into a rictus of rage; tears welled up in her eyes and her breathing was heavy. Rachel's eyes flicked down to where her girlfriend's prodigious chest heaved with the motion before she looked back up - but Rachel had clearly noticed anyway.

"I, I should have told you I'm Speedfreak…" She stammered out.

"Damn right you should have." Rachel yelled. "Three years we've been dating, and you didn't tell me? Were you ever going to tell me? Would you have been sneaking out on our wedding day to fight crime, or leaving our kids alone to do it?"

Rachel jaw moved as she tried to formulate a response. Marriage? Children? She and Emily had discussed those in vague terms, but now the potential was being thrown in her face and she couldn't think it through.

"Emily, please, you've had a really difficult day, it's best if we talk about this when you've had a chance to recover…" Rachel realised as soon as she spoke that it was the wrong thing to say .

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down after I find out my girlfriend has been lying to me for years!" Emily shouted. "And what about that!" Rachel pointed at the screen, where the awful homemade porn was still playing. Now it showed Ethan spanking Rachel's ass and fingering her as he guided her in sucking his dick.

"He was blackmailing me! I didn't have a choice!" Rachel found herself shouting, tears welling up in her own eyes. She hated fighting with Emily, and this was already worse than any other fight she had had with her girlfriend. Her heart felt tight and painful in her chest.

Emily let out a huff of breath, sounding disgusted and amused in equal measure.

"They showed me a lot of videos, you know. Are you really telling me that between all your super-homies or whatever you call yourselves, one of them couldn't help you deal with this guy without fucking him every other week?"

Rachel swallowed, suddenly unable to say a word. She had come up with many reasons not to approach the other heroines about this, but all of those seemed silly in the face of Emily's anger.

"I thought so. Maybe he did blackmail you into it at first. But you clearly enjoyed it, which is why you just went along with it instead of trying to find a way out of it." Emily turned her head back to the screen, where, as if to further humiliate Rachel, her own face twisted in orgasm as Ethan brought her to climax, only to force her mouth down on his dick and continue brutally spanking her as she began to enthusiastically suck.

"So you've been lying to me about your superhero identity, and about your sexuality." Emily's voice was even, the rage clearly still there but contained and focused. "Do I even know the real Rachel Dolmen?"

"I… Emily…" Rachel struggled for words, but they simply wouldn't come out.

"I think… it would be best if we didn't talk to each other for a while." Emily said. She turned and began to walk out the warehouse, and Rachel could do nothing but stare at her departing form as she left.

Rachel looked around the empty warehouse. She felt light-headed and exhausted, angry at Emily, at Ethan, at Dmitri, but most of all at herself. Her eyes caught on the video still playing on the warehouse wall, and with a yell of rage she dashed over to smash the projector on the ground.

Clockwise from top left: Kyrie, Penumbra, Spellweaver and Speedfreak

The club was packed, hundreds of bodies pressed up against each other in the warm, loud space. The whole building seemed to shake with the pounding of the bass in the tracks being played, and the dancefloor writhed with couples dancing suggestively. Rachel curled a lip in disgust as she saw people making out openly, uncaring of the other dancers surrounding them, and felt a pang of regret at attending. But Emily's hand dragged her onwards, and as Rachel's eyes returned to the woman she loved the regret faded. The club wasn't her scene, but Emily liked it, and that was enough for her.

They followed the wall until they were halfway around the dance floor before Emily let go.

"I'm going to grab us some drinks. See you in a few!" Emily said. Rachel opened her mouth to reject another drink, but Emily was already gone, and she suddenly found herself alone, surrounded by couples murmuring in each others ears or drinking together. She suddenly felt awkward and out of place. An environment like this - filled with fragile people that she couldn't navigate around - was where her powers weren't much use. She could super speed out of the club if she had to - and she'd leave a wide trail of broken bones behind her, and the distinctive green glow of her superspeed would be seen by everyone.

It didn't help that men were checking her out. She could feel their roving eyes on her, taking in her slender figure, the curves of her waist and hips and ass. It made her feel dirty. She shifted her clutch between her hands uncomfortably.

Another drink wouldn't help with the unpleasantness. She'd had a couple, but one downside of her superspeed was she had a super-metabolism to go with it. Speedfreak couldn't get drunk. Of course, Emily didn't know that, because she didn’t know that Rachel was Speedfreak. She just thought Rachel held her liquor well.

Suddenly a man stepped up next to her, his eyes fixed on her. He was tall, of medium build, with brown hair and a kind of generically handsome face that she struggled to tell apart from all the other men she heard straight women thirst over. Rachel hated him immediately.

"Hello. Do you mind some company?"

"I don't want anything to do with you." Rachel said as she made a show of looking him up and down dismissively.

He leaned over, his voice just barely audible over the club music.

"I think you do… Speedfreak."

Rachel opened her mouth to deny the allegation, but the words died on her lips as she saw the knowing glint in the man's eyes. The club faded into the background as she focused on him. He didn't resemble any of her villains… but that was little comfort. Her secret was out.

"What do you want?"

"I imagine it would be awkward for you if everyone here realised who you were. Especially between you and your girlfriend…" Something on Rachel's face must have given her away, because his lips curled upwards into a smirk.

"Oh, she doesn't know, does she? That makes this much easier."

"I said, what do you want?"

"I saw an interview you did a few weeks ago, where you came out and said you were, what was it, a "gold star lesbian". I was so disappointed."

"Your chances of getting a date with me would be zero even if I was straight, creep." The man laughed.

"Heh. A date isn't what I had in mind. In my experience, women like you say they're lesbians just because they don't know any better. So if you don't want me to tell everyone here just who you are, we'll upstairs and I'll show you what you've been missing out on. By the end of it, you'll like cock as much as any of the other sluts in this club."

Rachel gulped as the man leaned further into her personal space. She couldn't escape right now, but also couldn't risk him telling everyone… but she was a superhero. Surely there was a way out of this?

Flip a coin – tails!

"Uuungh, fuuuuuck-" Rachel groaned as the blackmailer penetrated her, her cunt unused to be filled by anything bigger than Emily's fingers. She could feel his long, hard prick stretching her out, distorting her, stuffing an emptiness in her that she hadn't realised she had. One of his hands moved up to squeeze the corners of her mouth together, and Rachel clenched her teeth in disgust as he tried to keep her quiet.

"That's it, bitch, take that cock." He growled, his other hand hefting one of her asscheeks and squeezing until his thick fingers sunk deep into her flesh. He had rolled her miniskirt up around her waist when he bent her over against the wall in this deserted part of club's upper level, in an alcove hidden from the main corridor, and his hands hadn't left her ass since.

She vaguely wondered how no one had found them yet, but thinking was hard when her body was being assaulted by the novel sensations of her pussy being filled for the first time.

Then the man started to move. She tried to ask him to start slow but it came out as a "Huuoorgh" and he ignored her, quickly picking up speed. Each thrust took away that stuffed feeling from her and then returned it twice over, until it felt like her whole body was being filled by his disgusting cock. Worse, she could feel raw physical pleasure begin to pulse in her core, even as her body shook and shuddered at the violation.

"God, look at this ass. Completely wasted on dykes." His hand came down in a sharp slap that made Rachel let out a long groan. Emily was never rough with her like that. But to her shock she could feel her cunt moisten at the pain that radiated through her ass, and his thrusts moved slicker and faster at the sudden lubrication. He seemed to notice it to, as she felt him lean forwards to whisper in her ear.

"Yeah, you liked that, didn't you. Guess they call you Speedfreak for a reason." The hand on her mouth tightened further and Rachel's eyes widened as he started spanking her cheeks every few thrusts and filled her ears with admiration for her ass, treating her like a piece of meat. She shivered in revulsion at his words, but tuning them out only drew her focus to the building pleasure in her core. She hated it, hated herself - but it was still there, growing, each thrust building something within her that was nothing like the gentle climaxes Emily delicately coaxed from her. This was like a flood filling her threatening to burst and overspill.

His hand loosened on Rachel’s mouth, but she could do was let out low moans as he pounded her. It seemed like every thrust went deeper, each striking a part of her that she did not know existed. Her whole body rocked with the force of his thrusts, thrusts that filled their little alcove with a steady plap-plap-plap sound. Rachel’s world narrowed, and she forgot Emily, forgot Speedfreak, forgot her powers; all she could think about was the horrible cock that filled her and the degradation that was forced upon her and the ecstacy building within her.

Suddenly, the dam broke. Rachel's vision went white as her orgasm hit her. Her whole body shuddered and her legs wobbled and gave way, and she only stayed on her feet because of the blackmailer's hard cock buried deep inside her, kissing her womb.

"Fuck." Her blackmailer groaned as he came too. Rachel could feel his cum flooding into her, filling her, but she barely noticed through the haze of pleasure and the shame and guilt that came with it. She shouldn't have came. She was a lesbian! How could a man's cock get her off?

"Wow, looks like I was right. You aren't a dyke after all." He gave a harsh laugh as he pulled out and spanked her ass once again, the action sending pleasant tingles through her core. The words barely registered as Rachel breathed heavily, her mind clouded and confused. She could barely hold herself upright with her hands against the wall. She needed to… she needed to clean up. And find Emily. It was over now, she could forget about this and go back to her life. She was vaguely aware of movement on the floor by her feet.

"Hey, wha…" She finally stood back up, trying to ignore the feeling of his semen inside her, and turned to see him holding her forgotten clutch and peering at her drivers license.

"Rachel Dolmen, huh?" Rachel's sudden rage brought her mind into focus.

"You bastard!" Her fist clenched as she raised her arm weakly. Her limbs felt loose and soft after the brutal fucking she had received.

"Her, none of that. Unless you want your secret identity on the evening news." Rachel stopped and lowered her arm, glaring at the man's smug face with undisguised rage.

"Oh, don't be like that. You had a good time tonight, don't pretend you didn't. Here." He pulled a card from somewhere. "My number's on there."

"You really think I'm going to call you?" Rachel growled. She was almost vibrating in rage.

"Within the week. Or the world learns Speedfreak is Rachel Dolmen. And I still need to teach you how to suck cock properly. I would have done that tonight, but your girlfriend probably would have noticed if I'd messed your makeup up." He pulled out a pocket square. "Here, clean yourself up. I'll see you around, slut." He walked past her back toward the stairs to the club, but not before tossing her clutch to her and giving her one final, harsh slap on her ass.

Rachel stood there, in shock from what had transpired, her ass stinging from his cruel hands. Her phone beeped and she saw it was a message from Emily asking where she was. Rachel's breath caught, and her mind raced. She had to get cleaned up. She had to go find her girlfriend and give her a convincing explanation for why she had disappeared. And she had to call the guy who had just raped her, find a time to meet up with him, and suck his cock. Why did that idea not completely repulse her like it would have an hour before?

---

Spellweaver fights her way into a Supervillain's secret lab, fights off his pair of genetically enhanced tigers, and finally kicks his ass. Unfortunately, even though police are on the way and she has a tied-up Supervillain in her arms, his henchmen won't give up! She may be out of mana, but she would never live it down if she lost to some nameless grunts after making it this far!

"Ulzumosh" Spellweaver cried out, launching a helix of twisting light from her hand that slammed into the enormous tiger a moment before it would have reached her with its vicious claws. The spell burst and turned into a cage of light, dragging Dr Oddity's genetically modified guard tiger to slam into one of the walls of the loading bay that served as the back entrance to the evil inventor's underground base. The tiger growled, attempted to rise to its feet, and then collapsed to the floor. The second tiger did not stop at the defeat of its partner, and slammed into her hastily raised shield with all the force of a truck. But the shield held.

Now she was close enough to look the tiger in the eye, a muttered "Rangazare" hypnotised the tiger long enough for a second blast of light to knock it out.

Spellweaver frowned. She didn’t like fighting animals, and the tigers were a victim of Dr Oddity like many of the others she had aided today. They were clearly suffering, the poor things; she could even see their barbed cocks erect and proud beneath their bodies, clearly a side-effect of whatever growth hormone Dr Oddity had used.

She turned attention to the fight ahead. She knew the lab area was on the other side of the loading bay, filled with whatever surprises Dr Oddity had left. She was low on mana – but it would be enough. She was a superheroine!

A twist of magic flicked the switch that opened the huge doors into the lab, and Spellweaver sauntered in. She tried to project confidence and arrogance, enough to convince Dr Oddity and his lackeys to surrender rather than fight.

“This ends tonight, Doc.” She shouted as she strode into the cavernous lab space. From the doorway she could see incubation tanks and workbenches, mechanical devices and vials of fluids of various colours and all manner of machines connected by miles of cables. She didn't know how it all worked - she was a witch. At the back loomed a strange orb of light on a pedestal, like a white whole in the world, which caught her eye for a moment before she spotted Dr Oddity standing in the middle of the lab, half a dozen of his henchmen spread out around the room.

“Now, are you going to come quietly?” She added saucily. She could feel the eyes of the men in the room on her.

Dr Oddity let out a cry of rage in response to her question.The scientist was short, bald and not particularly pleasant looking, and he seemed torn between lust and rage as he hefted a strange looking contraption at pointed it at her. "Get her, boys!"

"Renthon!" Spellweaver conjured up a quick shield as the inventor opened fire, as did his henchmen. The energy blasts of their weapons met her shield with a KA-KRAK! and the room was filled with blinding darkness. On instinct she raced forward into the inky blackness that filled the room, ducking towards where she had seen Dr Oddity standing last and lashed out with a punch. She was rewarded by a shout of pain and the thump of him hitting the ground, and she followed up by touching his prone body to cast her best binding spell, which would hold him in place until the police arrived.

Even surrounded by darkness, she felt a surge of elation at her victory.

Then Spellweaver felt something shoot past her. She ducked, breathing heavily as she realised just how close a call that had been. She hurried to crawl through the darkness, away from where the blast had come from, but the noises of the henchmens’ shooting continued above her. They'd hit her eventually by blind luck, if nothing else. Then she remembered the orb at the back of the room. She couldn't see it through the all-pervading shadow, but she took a guess and let out a blast of magic with a shouted "Akari" in the right general direction as she kept crawling. Yet with that last spell, she felt the pit in her stomach that indicated her mana had run out, and panic gripped her.

Light returned to the room. Dr Oddity was out on the ground. So were two of the henchmen. The other four were still standing, looking down in dismay at their suddenly depowered energy guns. Spellweaver stood, finding herself in the middle of an open area in front of the incubation tanks. The four henchmen turned to her, and she raised her hands and adopted what she thought was a mystical hand gesture.

"Right, are you pendejos going to surrender, or are you going to make a fight of this?" She said, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster.

The henchmen didn’t respond for a moment, and Spellweaver though this would end quietly.

“You know, I think if you could still cast magic, we’d all be hurting real bad right now.” The nearest henchman said, as he took a single step towards her. She didn’t respond, and he grinned. So did his comrades.

“What was that the Doc talked about earlier? Wanting to see how magic was inherited?” another one said. “How about we give him a chance to study it properly?”

Spellweaver gulped as she realised what they intended, but then she clenched her fists. Sure, she was outnumbered - but these were just ordinary thugs, and she had been trained in hand to hand combat by Kyrie herself, and the police were on their way. She wasn't going to be beaten now!

Flip a coin… heads!

"Stay! Down! Culero!" Spellweaver punctuated each word with a punch to the head, the last finally causing the henchman to fall unconscious to the floor.

Spellweaver’s whole body ached, she was covered in bruises and abrasions, and her hair was only half-in her customary but she wasn’t done yet.. Her costume was torn, exposing expanses of brown skin, as she turned towards where the final henchman was. He was just standing there, like he was waiting for some-

She realised just as the other henchman, who she had thought was down for the count, hit her with a tackle that swept her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, and her head swam.

“She took out Dave and Robin.”

“Yeah, and you can go try waking them if you like. I’m going to enjoy myself.”

Spelleaver wondered, through her hazy thoughts, what he meant. Then she felt rough hands on her chest, pulling down her costume and pinching her nipples roughly.

“Damn, look at the tits on her. Think’s that where she stores the magic?”

Maria’s screamed in protest inside her head, but her limbs refused to move through the pain and disorientation. She felt teeth graze her nipples, and a rough hand heft one of her asscheeks.

“Fuck, I’ve never seen a stripper with a body as fine as hers.”

“Just be grateful – strippers don’t let you touch!”

Their mocking laughter set a fire of rage burning inside her, and as she felt hands push her legs apart and migrate up to her hips, the violation leant her new energy and she slowly, painfully forced her muscles to move.

“You can keep playing with those tits, I’m having her cunt fir-aargh!” The henchman screamed as Spellweaver kicked him in the balls. Before the other henchman could react she punched him in the face and rolled before scrambling to her feet. A leg caught her own and she stumbled before blindly reaching out for anything she could use as a weapon. Her hand closed on a glass vial and she slammed it into the head of the thug who had groped her breasts as he came in for a punch.

He let out a scream of pain, and there was an unpleasant sizzling sound. Spellweaver struggled to stand upright; her knee ached, her shoulders hurt whenever she moved her arms, and she had cuts and bruises all over. But she stood nonetheless, calling on her last reserves of strength to give the henchman in front of her two kidney shots and a brutal knee to put him down, before slamming another glass vial onto the head of the henchman she had kicked in the balls. Then the lab was finally, mercifully, still.

Spellweaver stumbled over to a nearby stool and sat down, fixing her costume as best she was able before the police arrived. Her whole body was sore and she zoned out through the wait, barely noticing when the police arrived, cuffed Dr Oddity and his henchmen, and led them away.

"You look like you could use this." A police officer said as he handed her a water bottle. Spellweaver took it and began to drink greedily. "Though you look pretty roughed up. I'm surprised. Couldn't you just…" Spellweaver didn't have the energy to speak, so she looked up at the sheepish expression on his face. "You know, say some magic words and tie them all up?"

Spellweaver sighed.

---

@undernether

A villain called Snail's Pace has been causing trouble through town and has been growing bolder by the day. Originally thought to be a speedster, his power seems to be more that he can slow and maybe even freeze the relative flow of time in a limited area, allowing him to steal grand and valuable items and play pranks on heroes and cops trying to stop him. Kyrie suspects that Speedfreak's speed may just be fast enough to cope with Snail's powers and invites her to attempt to ambush him at the city gala tomorrow, where surely he would strike next. With Speedfreak's alacrity and Kyrie's durability surely they would be able to halt the daring cat burglar.

“I know that all the news about robberies and pranks has got people nervous. But don’t worry, with both of us on the case, Snail’s Pace is as good as caught!” Speedfreak gave a smile and thumbs up to the news reporter, and the camera kept rolling for a few moments before the segment finished and the reporter departed to talk to one of the other distinguished guests.

“Quite the fancy party, huh?” Speedfreak said to Kyrie, as she snagged an hors d'oeuvre from a nearby waiter.

“Yes, and we had best be leaving it and patrolling.” Kyrie said. She walked with long, purposeful strides towards the next gallery in the museum, and the crowd of men in tuxedos and women in evening dresses parted for her readily, occasionally stopping their conversations to stare. Speedfreak hurried after her.

“Yeah, patrol. Definitely.” Speedfreak said, keeping up with Kara’s longer stride with brief bursts of superspeed. Some of the other eyes in the room were on her, and Speedfreak couldn’t deny, it was nice to be admired, respected for her heroism and her ability to keep people safe.

“Can I just say how much I’m enjoying this team up? Snail’s Pace isn’t going to know what hit him!” Kyrie's lack of response caused Speedfreak's face to fall, and she said nothing more as Kyrie led them away from the gala.

Kyrie looked around as they stepped under a rope barring off the museum’s East Wing from the gala attendees, checking for anything suspicious. As the pair walked through the empty parts of the museum, far from listening ears, she spoke in a low voice.

“I think you need to be more careful about how you talk to the media. Setting expectations of when you will catch criminals only invites criticism if you should fail, even due to circumstances outside your control.” Kyrie’s jaw tightened. “This goes double when the exact details of a villain’s power are still unknown to you. We haven’t even got a good idea of what Snail’s Pace looks like.”

Kyrie looked around the empty gallery, and spoke with a sterner tone.

“Plus, being insulting towards villains in the media like that can make them vengeful, which is never a good thing. I’d take a dozen professional villains over one with a grudge any day.”

“Okay, I think I get it. But I haven’t been insulting him!” Speedfreak protested. Her eyes was momentarily caught by a piece of modern artwork, that at first she thought was a fish, then a man, then a house. She shook her head. She didn’t get art.

“You named him, and not with a particularly flattering one at that, to the media. Villains care about their reputation, and that involves being intimidating. “Snail’s Pace” is not a scary name.”

“Urgh, fine.” Speedfreak admitted, crossing her arms. The older hero was probably right. Kyrie seemed content with her acceptance, and continued their patrol through the deserted part of the museum.

“You’ve got to say it fits, though. The ability to slow down time around himself… well, it’s glad you called me in. Between the two of us, we’ll definitely be able to catch him.”

Flip a coin… tails!

“Gaghk, gaghk, gaghk.”

Speedfreak’s mouth was forced wide around the cat burglar’s prick as… she? they? pushed her head down with their gloved hands. Tear’s ran down Speedfreak’s cheeks at the feel of her throat being violated, and she looked up at the thief who had beaten her.

The cat burglar grinned down at her, their short black hair tousled from where they had removed their helmet, their beautiful androgynous face twisted in an expression of sadistic pleasure, their slender body contained in in a tight catsuit that clung to the curves of their substantial breasts. and had emphasised the bulge between their legs during their brief fight.

Speedfreak couldn’t believe she had ended up in this situation, drool running down her chin as Snail’s Pace pumped their cock roughly between her lips, filling her mouth and pressing down her throat.

She had stumbled upon the cat burglar as they had entered the museum, but soon found that the thief’s field of slowed time was strong enough to essentially render Speedfreak an unpowered woman. Then they had fought, and she had quickly lost; with almost lazy maneuvers Snail Pace tripped her with their whip, then wrapped her wrists behind her while she sturggled to rise. And now she was at Snail Pace’s mercy, hed hands still bound and her entire body controlled by the burglar’s strong arms.

“You know, I was uncertain about coming here. Too much heat, not worth the risk. But then I saw in the news yesterday that you would be in attendance, and I just had to drop by.”

Speedfreak stared up with watery eyes as the cat burglar increased their pace, brutally shoving their cock down her throat. She found herself perversely glad that her blackmailer Ethan had prepared her for the horrid sensation, but even he wasn’t as violent as the villain she faced now.

“Snail’s Pace, really? That’s the name you came up with for me? And spread all over the media. No one will take me seriously with a name like that. I was going to go with Crawler, or Decelerate, or something. Not Snail’s Pace!”

Speedfreak gagged on the cock bulging in her throat, and the sound only seemed to anger the cat burglar more. They pulled back and then thrust forward even harder, shoving their long thick cock into Speedfreak’s gullet until her bottom lip touched their balls. It felt like the cock was in her stomach and she tried to whimper, but no sound came out. Her vision spun as she started to run out of air, but Snail’s Pace held her there for agonising seconds more before finally letting go.

The reprieve was brief before they continued fucking her face.

“So I thought I’d come here and show you something much better to do with your mouth than gossip with reporters.” They gave a groan of pleasure as their hips shuddered, and suddenly they were cumming. Speedfreak could feel it shooting into her throat and coating her tonsils, could taste the salty fluid in her mouth; and then they just kept cumming, filling up her whole mouth until she had no choice but to swallow. It felt disgusting as she gulped it down and the cock in her mouth started to soften.

“Ah, and there’s the other heroine of the hour!” Snail’s Pace exclaimed, her head turned towards the wide entrance to the gallery.

Speedfreak turned her head, hoping that her mentor would appear to save her; but while she could see Kyrie, the woman simply stood there on one foot, moving imperceptibly slowly, her eyes wide and inmoving as she gazed at Speedfreak’s position. Snail’s Pace’s field of frozen time was still up, and despair gripped her.

She felt a light slap on her cheek and turned upwards to look at the owner of the cock still lodged in her mouth, which had aready begun to harden again.

“How about this? If you can get three more loads from me by the time I have to get out of Kyrie’s way, I’ll call it even. If not… well, you’ll be seeing me again.”

"It's a bit obvious, isn't it? Surely there's a trick here." Spellweaver said, as the four of them looked down on the Alpine castle which the supervillainess Pasiphae had seized as part of her latest plot.

"Pasiphae can be subtle, but she also does things like this occasionally simply to flaunt her power." Kyrie said, folding her pinoculars back into her armor and turning away from the castle to look at the other superheroines. "Her magical might and arcane skills mean that imprisoning her is practically impossible. She'll seize a castle and declare herself Queen simply to get a chance to fight superheroines and remind the world that she exists. And, of course, to keep people scared so that when there is something she actually does want, they'll just give it to her."

"That's… absurd." Penumbra said, frowning.

"That's supervillains for you." Speedfreak smirked. "At least she makes it easy for us."

"This will not be easy." Kyrie's tone was stern. "Pasiphae can usually find multiple supervillains to aid her. We know that Melk and Murk, who you know about, have joined her, as has Ringout, who has tangled with Mindwarp before. He can generate shrinking hard light rings that are extremely difficult to break. You'll all have to be on guard. Focus on those three, while I fight Pasiphae directly. I'm sure you'll be up to the task."

There was a chorus of affirmations from the other superheroines, and Kyrie felt a burst of pride for the other superheroines she was mentoring.

"If I know Pasiphae, she'll be in the largest room in the castle, which is the ballroom. If we follow this ridge down we should be able to avoid being spotted until we can go in via that back entrance there. Follow me."

The descent down to the castle was quick, and there was no sign of an alarm as Spellweaver folded them through the wards Pasiphae had placed on the castle and they entered the bottom level of the castle.

But they had only ascended a single flight of stairs when they found themselves face to face with a skull-shaped mask that made the three younger heroines start in fear.

"Oh, I was wondering when you would arrive." Skullfuck's voice was deep, melodious and amused. The bulk of his bony armor seemed to fill the stone corridor beneath the castle.

"Girls, go. I'll handle him and catch up with you." Kyrie said, her voice hard as steel, not letting her eyes leave Skullfuck for a moment.

"But…" Speedfreak began.

"Are you sure they don't want to stay? I'm sure they'd find it enjoyable."

"You all know how his powers work. You're in more danger the longer you stay here. I'm immune to his mind control and I could beat him with two hands behind my back. You can handle Pasiphae and her lackies. I'll be right behind you."

"Kyrie, it's Skullfuck" Spellweaver said. "I know what he does to heroines if he wins. They're never the same afterwards. We should all fight him together."

Skullfuck's skull-shaped mask seemed to spread into a wider grin as he listened to the discussion. He flexed his fists, preparing for a fight.

"I'm not risking you all. You girls can do this without me. I trust you. I'll see you after these villains are all arrested. Now go!"

Kyrie heard the other heroines depart, still staring as Skullfuck. As their footsteps faded, Skullfuck slowly advanced. Kyrie raised her fists, ready for battle. She could not afford to lose to him!"

Flip a coin… heads!

Kyrie fist collided with Skullfuck's head, the blow sending him crashing through two more walls of the castle. The armory room and the rooms around it echoed with the sound of collapsing masonry and sent up dust clouds that Kyrie batted away with superhuman waves of her hands. Their battle had ruined an entire wing of the ancient structure, and Kyrie allowed herself a brief pang of regret at the damage as she clambered through the broken stonework towards his prone form.

When she arrived at the room she had punched him into - some kind of bedroom - SKullfuck was slowly clambering to his feet, but Kyrie believed in kicking villains when they were down. The first kick sent him back to the floor, and then she rained punishing blows down upon him while avoiding his pitiful attempts to retaliate until his bloodied, battered form could barely move. Then she stood, breathing heavily as she looked down on her vanquished foe.

"How many times do we have to do this? How many times do I have to beat you into a pulp before you stop?"

Slowly, he started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" She growled.

"Until I win." Blood dribbled from his mouth as it contorted to make the words around the broken bones of his face. Kyrie knew he wasn't going to die; his healing powers were slow but unstoppable. "You have to win every time, but I only have to win once. One day I'll ruin you, and I'll forever be known as the man who turned the great Kyrie into a mindbroken fuckpet."

Kyrie clenched her jaw.

"And when I've done that, I'll head down to Elysium and visit that mother of yours, and do the same to her. I'll sit on the throne of Elysium with the two of you between my legs, your minds only thinking of my cock." He smiled with bloody teeth. "I can't wait."

Kyrie was used to the taunts of supervillains, but a sudden burst of hot rage filled her at the thought of this monster perverting the intimacy she shared with her mother. She clenched her fists.

"Well, there's one way to make sure that never happens."

Skullfuck's eyes widened as he realised what she meant.

A minute later, she turned away from his body and ran towards the ballroom, where she hoped to find her fellow heroines victorious.

---

If Kyrie makes it out unscathed, you should flip for the other group as a whole and see what state they're in when she catches up to them. ;)

The three heroines ran through the halls of the castle, ignoring the increasing loud rumblings from behind them where Kyrie was fighting Skullfuck. None of them spoke, all unwilling to broach the possibility that Kyrie might lose, that they might never see their mentor again – at least, not with her mind intact.

Spellweaver couldn’t stand the silence, and realised that they needed a plan for the upcoming fight.

“Speedfreak, take out Pasiphae first. She needs to speak for her spells like me, so you’ll be able to take outmaneuver her. Penumbra, take out Melk and Murk. You’ll be able to evade them, and use them against each other. I’ll bring down Ringout, and then help whichever one of you two needs it most. Got it?”

“Who made you the leader?” grumbled Penumbra. Spellweaver turned to glare at her.

“Fine.” Penumbra said, rolling her eyes.

“Come on girls, Kyrie has put her trust in us. We can’t let her down. We’re going to beat these pendejos, and Kyrie is going to trounce Skullfuck, and good will triumph over evil.”

“Yeah, let’s do it for Kyrie!” “For Kyrie, yes.”

A huge pair of double doors loomed before them, and Spellweaver yelled out a spell that blew them off their hinges as they advanced into the ballroom. The four villains stood there, waiting for them, with Pasiphae in the centre. Her elegant black gown hugged the curves of her hourglass figure tightly; her hair, dark as midnight, fell in straight curtains around her face, and her purple witches’ hat sat stylishly upon her head.

On her right stood the twins Melk and Murk, with their red skin and horns, four arms apiece and mismatched body shapes; Murk was cracking his knuckles in a way that emphasised his vast muscular frame, while Melk’s thin elastic limbs seemed to bounce in place. On her left was Ringout, an ordinary man in a blue and white costume with glowing rings of light surrounding him and a leering smile on his face.

“Ah, the trainees have arrived. Are you sure, young Spellweaver, that you don’t want to take up my offer of apprenticeship, rather than pursue this… doomed fight?” Pasiphae’s voice was husky and alluring as ever.

“Doomed? We’ll never lose to scum like you!” Spellweaver shouted, and the battle was on.

Flip a coin… tails!

The ballroom was filled with pleasured moans and groans of pain, the sound of flesh slapping on flesh and cries of dismay.

In the middle of the room, Pasiphae sat basking in her victory, her ass firmly planted on Spellweaver’s face. Her prodiguous booty smothered the younger witch, the cheeks almost touching the floor and leaving the heroine deprived of sensory information; she could see nothing and hear nothing around the soft expanses of flesh that surrounded her head, smell only the older magician’s taint and taste only the pussy she had her tongue buried inside.

Pasiphae’s hands had a tight grip on Spellweaver’s breasts, her sharp nails scratching along their slopes or twisting the nipples painfully as she luxuriated in the pleasure she was receiving.

“That’s it, keep going, you’re picking up an apprentice’s duties very well.” she reassured the young witch as she rocked back and forth, grinding herself on Spellweaver’s face. At a momentary loss of tongue movement she dug her nail into a nipple, and was rewarded with a muffled squeak and redoubled oral attention. Satisfied that her new apprentice was coming along well, she turned her attention to the rest of the room.

The fast girl, Speedfreak, was suspended from the ground between Melk and Murk, her legs and arms danging in the air, her body held up by their arms and their girthy cocks. Occasionally her legs would wobble a bit in place, but otherwise she seemed completely out of it as the twins pounded into her. Melk, the shorter one, was fucking her face, his cock bulging her pale throat with every thrust. Murk meanwhile fucked her from behind, the motions causing the redheaded woman’s huge ass, almost of a size with Pasiphae’s own, to bounce with obscene motions.

Pasiphae exulted at the speedster’s defeat as she reached up to feel the small cut on her cheek Speedfreak had given her during their brief fight.

“Oh, how good it is to see a arrogant harlot like that properly humbled. Maybe I’ll borrow those brothers to do the same to you when you get uppity, my dear.” Spellweaver seemed to take the comment as an criticism and her tongue picked up the pace, leaving Pasiphae breathing hard as warmth built within her core.

The idea was more than an idle thought. To Pasiphae’s mind, there were few better sights than seeing a woman like that ruined by a thick cock or two – and if she couldn’t find men of the calibre she needed, she typically used magic to grow her own. Once Melk and Murk had had their fun, she would take the speedster away and properly break her until there was nothing left of her mind. It would serve as a good example to Spellweaver of why she should obey her new Mistress.

Turning to the other couple in the room, Pasiphae felt a deep satisfaction at how well she’d put this little group together. Penumbra’s shadow powers were something Pasiphae was eager to study with the mystic arts, and Ringout was the perfect counter to her abilities. He wasn’t a remarkable man, but he did have a remarkable power, excellent for restraining and trapping women. They even looked good with his rings of light tight around their wrists and binding their arms to their chests. She intended to keep him around, and keep him pliant with money and sluts like the one he was currently enjoying.

Penumbra was on her back, arms restrained behind her in glowing blue rings in a way that forced her sizeable chest up and outwards. Her layers of cloaks had been torn, exposing the twin creamy mounds of flesh, which Ringout had placed his cock between and was now frantically fucking, his unimpressive cock disappearing between the fleshy pillows as he squeezed them with his hands. Penumbra occasionally let out a little cry of despair or pleaded with him to stop; no one paid attention to her.

Pasiphae felt something catch within her, and the steady swell of pleasure that Spellweaver’s tongue had been giving her suddenly built up speed. She closed her eyes in pleasure as Spellweaver slowly brought her to orgasm. Pasiphae let herself relax into it, riding hard on Spellweaver’s face as she let every pulse of ecstasy flow through her.

As she came down from her climax, she realised Spellweaver had stopped eating her out. Pasiphae rose up onto her knees, and the brown-skinned woman beneath her took a great shuddering breath, her pretty face entirely smeared with Pasiphae’s juices.

“Good girl.” She said, her voice cutting through the sound of Spellweaver filling her lungs with air. “Now, again!”

Before the young witch could take another breath, Pasiphae sat down again, and the hall echoed with the wet clap of her ass on Spellweaver’s face. The other witch got to work without a single noise of protest, and Pasiphae hummed in pleasure that the young witch was so naturally submissive. She once again considered growing a cock, this time inside Spellweaver’s mouth, then fucking her face and seeing how the young magician handled a litre of cum being poured down her throat. But Spellweaver seemed so eager to please her that Pasiphae reconsidered. There would be time for that later.

When they got back to her lair she was probably going to spend at least a week doing nothing but fucking her new student in every way imaginable.

While she had been cumming the twins had switched position; now Melk took Speedfreak from behind on her hands and knees, while Murk forced her pretty face down his vast cock, his hands tightly gripped in her red hair. Her jaw stretched wide to allow him entry, but her eyes had rolled back in her head, to Pasiphae’s delight.

Yet she noticed something was different. The rumblings from the other wing of the castle had stopped. Pasiphae smirked. Skullfuck had finally finished, and soon Kyrie would be barely able to speak full sentences, let alone stand as the beacon and leader for new superheroines. Pasiphae would be free to pursue her projects, amass power and apprentices, break whatever slut she wished…

A wall burst open, and Kyrie entered the room; scuffed and battle damaged, but entirely whole, her fists covered in blood and her face twisted in rage.

“Oh.” was all Pasiphae managed to say before Kyrie’s fist met her face.

---

@undernether

Penumbra has been tracking down an underworld figurehead named Warlock to stop him from running a human trafficking and pit fighting operation. Warlock seems magically gifted due to his propensity to make magical escapes and his ability to field a near-endless supply of slightly fantastical henchmen. To try and put a stop to his operations once and for all, she decides to enter the Underworld Arena as bait, while Spellweaver can work into the background to undo any magic that Warlock uses to facilitate his miraculous escapes and his endless supply of loyal henchmen that could show up from anywhere.

"Are you sure about this, Penumbra?" Spellweaver asked. It was only the clear kindness in her eyes that kept Penumbra from snapping back at her. The two were stood on a roof, not far from the old theatre Warlock was using as the centre of his operation. Night had long since fallen, and the pair had been watching the steady trickle of people heading towards Warlock's metahuman fighting event for more than an hour.

"Yes, I'm sure. Though if you don't think you're up to helping…" she said.

"Of course I am." Spellweaver stretched, drawing Penumbra's eyes to the way her tight purple costume clung to the curves of her body, and looked away. Spellweaver was the fellow heroine she got on best with, but the woman was still… provocative.

"You're completely right that these servants of Warlock's are magical from the traces they left at those crime scenes. Though teleportation and the creation of magical servants are a bit of a strange combination of arcane skills…"

"Does it matter?" Penumbra asked testily. She didn't like magic, and she preferred to leave it to a specialist like Spellweaver.

"Not really, I suppose. Though your shadow powers would probably be better suited to handling these servants of Warlock's than dealing with his teleportation."

"Warlock is my case. I'm not letting anyone else take the lead on it." Penumbra huffed, and turned away from her fellow hero. "Just make sure you keep the weird beast-dudes busy while I deal with Warlock."

Before Spellweaver could respond, she dropped down off the roof, using her powers to slow her fall. As dark as it was, her powers were at their zenith; she could smash apart the theatre where Warlock had made his base with ease. But given his teleportation powers, he'd probably still get away, and his entire network would go to ground. Her white robes - a disguise to sell the idea of her as a different newtype to the known hero Penumbra - fluttered around her as she made her way down the alleys to the small side door for the meta-brawl's competitors.

A knock revealed an extremely tall man who gazed down at her from behind the reinforced door.

"Newtype?" He asked. There was scepticism in his voice.

Penumbra used her powers to make her robes flutter around her and extended the hidden fabric into a swirl of threatening tendrils of cloth. It had taken her a while to work out how to pretend to have different powers than she did, but she quite liked the result.

"I'm Stitcher."

She saw the faintest hint of a smirk on the man's face as she was directed inside and guided down a passageway by another burly guard, but breathed deeply to stifle her anger. The interior of the complex was well lit, but a quick internal check showed that it was not nearly lit enough to limit her powers. Soon she could hear the steady roar of the crowd awaiting the start of the event, and she was led into a large backstage room that looked to have a dozen other newtypes present. She curled her lip in disgust when she saw the frankly lewd costumes the other female competitors were wearing. Ignoring their conversations, Penumbra crossed the room to look down another long corridor - and was rewarded with the sight of Warlock talking to one of his men, a smug smile on his goateed face.

Penumbra let a small smile spread across her face. With Spellweaver's aid, there was no way Warlock was getting away!

Flip a coin… tails!

Warlock's hand hefted one of Penumbra's tits before rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She squirmed, and her wriggling pressed her ass back against the hard prick she could feel poking into her from behind.

"Oh, you are a feisty one, aren't you?" He laughed as he grabbed the front of her robes and tore them off her. She could do nothing to resist; the bright lights taken from the arena were all turned to focus on her, and she couldn't summon the slightest mote of her shadow powers to save her.

"Please, just let me go." She begged. The large backstage room was empty save for the two of them and the powerful industrial lights that Warlock had used to trap her. She should have realised that the whole thing was a trap once she was asked to go to a different room to the other contestants; instead Warlock had manifested, taunted her, and led her on a merry teleporting chase around the backrooms of the pit-fighting complex until in her frustration she had manifested right in the brightly-lit room.

"Hmmm…. no, I don't think I will." His other hand was heavy on her abdomen, pulling her back towards him. She could feel his cock between her legs, brushing against her lips without penetrating her. "Besides, the show will start in a moment or two."

"What sho-?"

There was a crash as Spellweaver stumbled in through one of the side doors, followed by the bulky forms of Warlock's animal-headed henchmen. One had a bull's head, the other a lizards, the third a horse; but all of them moved with power and purpose as their muscular forms, naked from the waist up, surrounded Spellweaver, whose costume was battered and ripped from the fight. She muttered an arcane word that forced her assailants back, but as she turned and saw Penumbra caught, stripped naked and being groped by Warlock's big hands Spellweaver's eyes went wide in surprise.

A long pink tongue shot out from one of the other side doors and wrapped around Spellweaver's mouth, taking advantage of her momentary distraction. She twisted in panic, trying to get it off as a frogman and several other animal-men emerged from that door, but the beastmen quickly surrounded her and began to pull apart her costume as well.

"The Beastmen of Agadash." Warlock said, as Penumbra could only watch in horror as the beings in question lowered their crude trousers to reveal an array of huge bestial cocks. The tongue binding Spellweaver's face detached for a moment, but before she could utter a single word her head was pulled forward and her open mouth filled with a long, thick horsecock even as more beastmen appeared from elsewhere in the complex. "I discovered their realm by accident while working on my teleportation powers. It didn't take much to gain their allegiance, and with the right application of my magics they can manifest from their realm as I need them to."

Penumbra cried out as her friend and fellow heroine was manhandled by the beastmen, who moved with singular purpose as they arranged her for ideal fucking. The frogman who had caught Spellweaver ended up beneath her, and pressed his sticky cock against the lips of her pussy; meanwhile the bullman had knelt behind her, and Penumbra watched Spellweaver's whole body flex when the bullman's big, rough hands seized her hips.

"Please stop them!" Penumbra wailed; but it was in vein. She saw the beastmen penetrate her friend in one coordinated motion, even as she felt Warlock's cock finally slip between her pussy lips and enter her. He slid in easily, and Penumbra realised that watching Spellweaver's assault had gotten her wet. Warlock's hands tightened on her breasts, groping and massaging them as he began to fuck her with shallow, almost gentle thrusts. She felt his breath on her ear as he leaned forwards.

"Keep watching her." Penumbra couldn't look away if she tried. The beastmen pulled and pushed Spellweaver's body as they fucked her, a brutal cycle as one buried himself as deep as he could in her throat, then the second, her cunt; then the third, her ass. They all let out bestial grunts and groans as they rutted against her, even as the sound of their balls clapping against her flesh filled the room. Other beastmen stood around her, groping her flesh, pinching her dusky nipples or pressing their cocks into her hands, which started to jerk the cocks almost subconsciously. Warlock's cock steadily pushed deeper and deeper within Penumbra, filling her up as jolts of pleasure flowed down from her sensitive breasts to build in her core.

Suddenly, the horse-headed beastman who was roughly fucking Spellweaver's throat let out a whining sound as his whole body seized up; Penumbra could see her friend's throat bulge and cum begin to dribble out around the edges of her mouth.

"They don't have the best stamina." Warlock said, sounding disappointed as he tugged one of Penumbra's nipples upwards, lifting her whole tit in a way that sent pleasure and pain coursing through her. "But they do have numbers on their side."

The horseman backed away, and Penumbra felt a surge of hope as Spellweaver clearly prepared to cast something. But before she could another bestial cock, this one knotted and red, filled her throat. Soon the other beastmen finished, pumping their loads into Spellweaver's curvaceous body, but each of the witch's holes was only allowed a brief moment of respite before it was stuffed with another beastmen's cock. Penumbra's eyes were fixed on the other heroine as the beastmen manhandled her, moving her into different positions so more and more of them could access Spellweaver's nubile body.

As she watched, Penumbra's own pleasure built and built from Warlock's steady, even strokes and his careful hands playing with her. The bright lights surrounding her meant she could do nothing as she watched her friend and fellow heroine get gangbanged by the seemingly endless horde.

There was a moment when the beastman fucking Spellwaver's face pulled out, and Spellweaver didn't even try to cast a spell around the cum that filled her mouth, that Penumbra realised just how badly the two of them had lost. Even as a lizardman shoved both his long, hard cocks into Spellweaver's cunt, Penumbra's whole body contorted and she let out a loud moan as a small orgasm hit her at the realisation of their defeat. Warlock tugged her body closer to his as the ecstacy filled her.

"I knew you would enjoy the show."

Penumbra had never gotten along with her fellow heroines. They didn't comport themselves as good role models for women and girls everywhere should. They were too lewd, too shameless; their costumes were designed to show off their curves and tempt any who looked at them, and around the public they acted with arrogance rather than humility, flirting outrageously all the while.

Sometimes she thought that maybe they could use a little more…

Penumbra quashed the chain of thought. Still, while she didn't like most other superheroines, she didn't think they were bad people.

Which had left her all the more surprised when she saw the phone video of Quasar kidnapping a young woman in broad daylight as the woman asked for her autograph.

True, the fans who pestered her at all times were also annoying, but there was no need for Quasar to go that far, especially since she could fly!

Curiosity piqued, Penumbra had investigated - and found accounts (lacking video) of four more women taken by Quasar that weekend. Tracking them down had brought her, near sunset, to an abandoned factory on the edge of the city.

Lurking in a narrow alleyway, Penumbra gazed at the factory and waited. Her body was half-merged with shadows, and virtually unnoticeable. As the sun descended, she could feel her powers steadily building in strength. Quasar was a powerful heroine, but if it came to a fight Penumbra was pretty sure she could handle her so long as the sun had set. So she waited.

The sun had been below the horizon for half an hour when Penumbra heard the telltale whoosh of a flying superhuman. Unmerging from the shadows, she looked upward to see Quasar's glowing form descend from the sky towards the roof of the factory. As she stared through the halo surrounding the other superheroine's Amazonian form, she was sure that there was something off about the other heroine's silhouette… but it didn't matter. She had a fellow heroine to remonstrate with.

Transitioning into her shadow-form once more, Penumbra glided across the empty lot in front of the factory, expanded her shadowy arm like a vast billowing cloak, and then slammed it into one of rusted loading doors of the factory, blowing it clean away from the wall and revealing the inside of the factory…

Where the five kidnapped women were held in some sort of cage, and Quasar was on her knees in front of a woman with matted hair and stained clothes, the woman's cock buried deep in her throat.

"What? Why didn't the Quasar alarm go-" The woman shouted as she turned to look towards the now-destroyed doorway, one hand still on the bobbing head of the superheroine in front of her. "Wait, you're not Quasar?"

Penumbra froze, her cheeks burning, as confusion and embarrassment warred inside her and her thoughts raced through the questions the scene before her evoked. Why did the woman be surprised that she wasn't Quasar when Quasar was right in front of her? Why were they engaging in such lewd behaviours? Why did they have the women in a cage? Why was the woman in the chair so filthy?

"Mecha-Quasar, restrain her!" the woman ordered as she pointed at Penumbra. Then she added with a smirk "You know, the fun way."

As the other Quasar rose from her… activities in one smooth motion and turned to her, Penumbra saw the exposed circuitry on her chin and abdomen and realised this was some sort of robotic duplicate. The dishevelled, half-naked woman in the chair grinned and pressed a button that opened the cage, and the five kidnapped women began rushing at her with murderous looks in their eyes even as the robot raised a glowing hand towards her. Penumbra shifted into shadow and prepared for battle. Whatever was going on here, she was going to put a stop to it!

Flip a coin - heads!

Penumbra's shadowy form shifted as she dodged away from another energy blast released by the robot's one good arm, and then pressed her advantage. As the quantum energies of the blast faded, her powers waxed in strength once more and she reached out with a shadowy appendage to strike at Mecha-Quasar, all while keeping the brainwashed women away with another umbral limb. The robot was heavily damaged; it's false costume and synthetic skin mostly torn off to reveal the metallic sheen beneath, its left arm ended in wires and sparks at its elbow, and there was a huge hole in its front where halfway through the fight it had unveiled a metallic cock that Penumbra had destroyed in a wild swing born of revulsion and embarrassment.

Her attack caught the robot on the leg hard enough to crumple it, and the woman in control of the robot - who had dodged around Penumbra and the Robot's blows throughout the fight, tinkering with something while her still-wet cock protruded long and hard in front of her - let out a scream of frustration. The robot, perhaps sensing it was losing, tried a different tactic, surging forward through the air to ram Penumbra with it's swift-moving body.

Penumbra smirked internally as she reduced the corporeality of her shadowy form, letting the robot pass through her with only a brief discomfort, before she wrapped three vast, pitch-black limbs around the robot and crushed it entirely. Mecha-Quasar fell to the ground with a metallic crash, and Penumbra turned towards the woman who had made it while keeping hold of the struggling hostages with her other shadow-limbs. The woman held up some kind of device towards her, pressed a button with a grin - and nothing happened.

"Oh, phooey." Penumbra's form expanded, filling half of the cavernous factory space like something out of a nightmare as she loomed over the woman, who cowered before her. Penumbra smashed the device in her hand before the villain could do anything else with it.

"What did you do to them?" Penumbra's voice echoed through the room, far deeper and louder than she could ordinarily speak. The woman before her swallowed in fear, eyes bulging and sweat beading on her forehead - though her cock remained hard in front of her, to Penumbra's disgust.

"It was just meant to be a distraction as Mecha-Quasar fought Quasar, something to limit her so Mecha-Quasar could win!" As Pennumbra deepened the shadows that surrounded the woman, her voice grew more frantic. "There's a little device behind their ears! Remove it and they'll stop!"

Penumbra crushed the offending devices with the smallest act of will, and all five of the young women slumped unconscious. She immobilised the villain with another shadowy appendage, careful not to touch the womans disgusting cock, and returned her own body to a more natural form before contacting the rest of the Champions.

After she knew the authorities were on their way, Penumbra found herself alone looking after five unconscious civilians and one conscious, annoying and horny supervillain.

"As soon as I get out of jail I'm going to make a Mecha-Penumbra, and then I'll come after you! Maybe she won't control shadows but she'll have lots more light sources than Mecha-Quasar did and lots of tentacles! Once I beat you with her it'll be like having my own personal 24/7 tentacle hentai!"

Penumbra sighed. As lewd as some of her fellow heroines were, their villains were far, far worse.

- - -

@toskalain

Once again a simpler prompt: I'd love to see a scene where one of the heroines struggles with the scars of her prior defeats more. Masturbating to her own rape, or telling herself she was "asking for it" after a narrow victory, or yearning for cock, whatever you enjoy most!

Maria stared up at the ceiling above her bed, trying to clear her mind and fall off into slumber. But sleep didn't come easy. It had been a few days since her an Penumbra's… encounter with Warlock and his beastmen, and while she was physically fine, her head was a different story.

She had experienced all sorts of unpleasant things as a superheroine, but her encounter with the beastmen had left her shaken like nothing else. Their violence and ferocity had made the fight a desperate struggle like few of her battles with other supervillains, and what happened after was worse. Their brutality and roughness, the way they seemed to move as one coordinated unit, not to mention their sheer size, had made their rape of her nightmarish.

She could call it that, inside of her own head. And yet- she was doing it again!

Maria pulled her arm up in disgust from where it had drifted between her legs to idly play with her folds as she thought about the beastmen. It had happened several times in the days since, when she was alone and her thoughts inevitably returned to that awful assault like water circling a drain. It had even happened that morning, when she was half-awake, one hand playing with her clit and the other massaging her nipples, and she had got herself most of the way to an orgasm at the thought of the hard bestial cocks filling her pussy and mouth and ass before she had awakened fully and came to her senses.

It didn't help that Warlock was still at large. Kyrie had taken over the search for him, to Maria's relief and Penumbra's anger, and enlisted other heroines to help - but without some counter to Warlock's magic he would be very difficult to catch. Maria wanted to help out - but she also did not want to come face to face with Warlock and his Beastmen again.

"I need to fix this." She said, rising and tossing on her robe. The halls of Heartacre, the estate she had purchased as a home and sanctum, were warm as she wandered to the library and began searching for ay mention of the Beastmen of Agadash in the books of magic she had collected ever since she began exploring the arcane arts. Her library was not as big as other repositories of arcane knowledge that she knew of, like Pasiphae's personal library of the Arcanery of Elysium, but she swore to herself that one day it would be.

Four hours later, I the darkness of the early hours, she found what she was looking for.

"The realm called Agadash, inhabited men of bestial form and disposition, lies adjacent to our plane along the citrial and circumnal axes, but fades in and out of alignment. The folk of Agadash have been used by many a sorcerer and warlock-" Maria stopped her reading for a moment, thinking of the supervillain.

"The folk of Agadash have been used by many a sorcerer and warlock as warrior-servants, for they are strong, disciplined and coordinated. Yet their true allegiances remain with their leaders, the caste known as the Shanan-Im, who do not share their servants lightly, for all that they are far more diplomatic than the bestial kind they rule over."

What followed was a diagram of one of the beastmen, that caused her hand fall between her legs before she caught it, a series of ritual diagrams and a number of incantations, which looked relatively simple to Maria's eyes.

"Am I really doing this?" Maria asked herself as she examined the diagrams more carefully. She turned her head to look back towards the doorway, towards her bed - and sleep she knew wouldn't come. She didn't answer herself.

Half an hour later her preparations were complete - she stood in her ritual room, surrounded by concentric circles drawn in metallic paint, meant to guard and ward her body and soul. These connected via lines to another set of concentric circles, which were empty - waiting to be filled.

"Agrazh Numoros Sepandarch, Ru Yirimar Tepograsan Shanan-Im Ipizimech, Ul Fradeni Dros Kres Supurinarma!

The light that built with every world of the incantation she congealed with a blinding purple flash as she finished the spell, and as the room came back into view a figure stood in the other concentric circle. It was tall - not tall like the beastmen had been tall, within normal human proportions - it stood eight feet tall and half as broad, a mountain of a humanoid with skin the same deep purple as the light that had brought him forth.

"And that's definitely a he." Maria thought. Aside from the muscular body that would put any huma bodybuilder to shame, between his legs were a pair of huge cocks, one top the other, looking as thick around as one of Maria's forearms. Even soft they were intimidatingly sized, but when hard…

They twitched, and as if reading her thoughts seemed to harden slightly. Maria swallowed as she felt herself grow damp between her thighs, and raised her eyes to the Shanan-Im's face. He had had two bright green eyes, a heavy brow, a bald skull and a brace of tentacles across what would be the chin and jaw on a human man. The tentacles writhed slightly as their eyes met.

"Why have you summoned me, woman of Earth?" The Shanan-Im asked. His tone was deep but even.

"I am Spellweaver, a defender of Earth. Some of the beastfolk of your world have come into the service of a criminal, who uses them to aid in his evil deeds. I am here to request you recall them, and prevent him from using them further."

Spellweaver's voice was steady as she gazed up at the stoic face of the Shanan-Im. This was a way she could help stop Warlock - she wasn't going to fail!

Flip a coin - heads!

"It is done. They have been recalled." Galogash said, as he ended the sending spell to communicate with his own plane and the arcane energies around his hand faded. His face-tentacles twitched in what Spellweaver had come to recognise was a Shanan-Im's smile.

Spellweaver smiled back at him. They had long since abandoned the summoning circles, given that Galogash clearly meant her no harm, and settled away from the ritual area. Spellweaver had made a pot of coffee and they both had cooling, half-drunk cups before them; she sat on a chair beside a small table while the Shanan-Im sat cross-legged on the floor, leaving their two eyes level with each other.

"Thank you. I - and the people of Earth - appreciate how swiftly you've addressed this."

"It is I who should be thanking you. They're Vildonazh's servants, and he and I are old rivals. We have been for a century, ever since the War in the Nightlands and the Congress of Jade, when - ah, I won't bore you with the details of Agadash politics. Still, his inability to control his vassal's will help me take him down a peg or two in the Council, perhaps even get him evicted from it entirely. There's a reason we don't generally let our servants out of Agadash, and he seems to have forgotten it."

Spellweaver desperately wished she had pen and paper to write down everything Galogash mentioned, though asking to do so would be extremely rude. Summoning rituals were all well and good for getting a being from another plane of existence to Earth, but a magician still had to work out how to convince them to do what they wanted. Her knowledge about the politics of other planes was spotty at best - other beings she had summoned were not particularly chatty and good books on magic were often old and extremely behind the times on events, allegiances and rivalries in arcane realms.

Still, he was by far the kindest and most pleasant of the extraplanar beings she had met - and every gesture he made sent ripples through his defined musculature and increased the wetness between her thighs.

Spellweaver made her decision.

She leaned forward, allowing her robe to billow outwards and her breasts to rest on the table. The nightwear she had on left her cleavage looking fantastic, even if she did say so herself - not to mention how thin it was, and how much of the rest of her soft skin it left uncovered. Spellweaver was a snack, and she knew it.

"It's a couple of hours until dawn ends the summoning… perhaps we could find something else to do?". Spellweaver made her voice husky and breath as she finished speaking, and her eyes fell to the spot between Galogash's legs where she could still see his massive cocks on display.

She saw those cocks twitch again. She licked her lips.

"I am sorry, but I would prefer not to with a human. I find it… unpleasant." Galogash looked away, clearly uncomfortable. "Though if you are in need to carnal relief, I am sure some of my vassals would be more than willing? Do you have a preference on the kind of beastman you enjoy?"

Spellweaver's jaw clenched.

(also, was there a third response here as well? the email notification featured a third prompt featuring Speedfreak and Emily, but it doesn't look like that's here now…)

As always, thank you for the writing! Also, I do have a couple of prompt ideas if you're still looking for some! These might be a little more complex

Penumbra and Speedfreak in: Glue Guy, Hell Yeah! Penumbra and Speedfreak don't get along. Speedfreak thinks Penumbra's a prude with a major stick up her ass, and Penumbra thinks Speedfreak's a slut who doesn't take anything seriously. As such, Kyrie's decided to send them on a mission together to improve their teamwork. Nice and simple: just catch the D-list villain Glue Guy. Sure, he's created his very own super sticky glue that can keep anything stuck. But I mean c'mon. It's Glue Guy. The only way Penumbra and Speedfreak could lose would be if they're too busy arguing and accidentally walk into the obvious puddle of glue. Which is just as well, because the only thing more humiliating than getting stuck tits down and ass up in a puddle of super glue is getting raped by some sweaty, out of shape, desperate never-was of a supervillain. I mean, you might as well just give up superheroing there … provided they weren't bitching at each other while lying prone

(so yeah, Glue Guy draws some obvious inspiration from the "ineffectual sympathetic bad guy" type of villain. someone like Shocker or Kite Man—hence the title)

Speedfreak and Emily in: Emily's Secret Power Emily and Rachel are walking home after a lovely meal out. Everything is going well until suddenly there's a bright pink flash in the sky. A pink meteor explodes over the couple's heads, showering dust down onto Emily. Neither of them know what to think of this, but when Emily starts to talk Rachel finds herself cumming uncontrollably! It seems that the meteor dust has made it so that Emily's voice makes Rachel cum. Will Rachel's super speed allow her to hide her orgasms from the public, or will so many orgasms back to back leave her a public disgrace?

(this one also draws inspiration from comics—specifically the Silver Age, with stuff like Jimmy Olsen suddenly gaining the power to beat Superman. I was thinking it'd be even more fun if Emily was empowered/cursed to cause orgasms specifically for Speedfreak while not knowing about Rachel's other identity—though I don't know if that'd still be the case considering the possible third response)

Severina was struggling to get free from the green brute's grip which was large enough to pin her arms to her side, his thumb and index finger almost meeting at her belly button. Delicately he was using his other hand to peel the clothes and armor from Severina. "Puny human." The orc laughed, as her breasts were bared for all to see, Severina tried to get out, to kick, to roll out of that grip, to crawl away, but enclosed in that iron grip she mostly seemed to be writhing underneath the orc leader.

Meanwhile the orc's hard, green dick was lying on top of her, enjoying the sensation of Severina's bare skin moving against his. The dick was long enough to reach up to her diaphragm as it rested on top of her. It was happily oozing precum from all this excitement, unleashing a heady, intoxicating scent, as it pooled and rubbed across her abs and slowly but surely flowed over to her chest. Severina didn't pay much attention to it as she was struggling, but the sight and the smell brought Cyrus, Skaeya and Serry to a blush as this horrifying scene seemed to excite them, despite their better judgement. There was something in the air, some energy to this moment that excited them.

Despite Severina's resistance and protests, the orc continued picking away at her clothes, until her pants and undergarments were removed, revealing her slender cock, also hard and oozing. She was also being affected.

"Puny human," the orc repeated as he slowly grinded his cock against her smooth, lubed abs and her own erection. "A duel with swords, it is!" The orc laughed, the rumble of his voice vibrating through his body and pleasantly stimulating Severina's cock.

Syr Severina Valerose was tightly gripping her fists and continued to struggle. Tears of humiliation streamed down her face as she was rubbing cocks with an enemy and at the same time her upper body was almost used like a fleshlight. The humiliation is almost too much to bear. With renewed vigor, she frees one hand and tries to claw at his grip.

Seeing her lover being hurt and humiliated like this, princess Seraphina runs up to Syr Valerose and grabs her hand, holding it up to her lips. "It's okay, Sevy, I could take it. We can take it." She said, blushing. That didn't sound right. As she looked at the princess, all red and sweaty, there seemed to be something off about her. There seemed to be something off about herself. She almost felt like giving up. Clearly, she lost... Right?

Before Severina could fully understand, the princess leaned in for a warm kiss, to Severina's great panic. She shouldn't do this. If she kisses her, then Severina will, she'll... But before Severina could protest or try to push her lover away, it became too much, and she shot rope after rop all across the orc's magnificent length that was dominating her.

Syr Severina could hardly make out what was happening around her, with the veil of princess Seraphina's pinkish golden curls enveloping them as they kissed and honestly, Severina stopped caring. She was kissing and holding hands with her beloved as she was cumming.

She thought she could hear Cyrus and Skaeya moaning behind her, but she had more pressing concerns as she felt something press against her behind, but before she could properly assess the situation, her cries of protest and surprise were crushed against the princess's sweet lips trapping her. The orc's slick, thick, hard cock easily pushed inside her, pushing out her breath and her thoughts, filling it with nothing but sex and cock.

She had never felt so full and as the great length bottomed out inside her, pushing so high up into her, she felt like she was going to black out, she heard that familiar grumbling again. He was laughing. He was laughing and it felt good, sending her over the edge again. Before she fell into the darkness of orgasmic oblivion, she heard the words: "Puny human is cold and hard on the outside, but inside you are soft and warm."

When she came to, she was alone with the princess in a tent, naked and wrapped up in the plush velvet cloak of the princess, her legs, chest and face all gooed up with fluids that she didn't want to think about, the princess stroking her hair. When the princess realised Seraphina was awake, their fingers intertwined.

"Don't worry Sevvy, I asked the big lug if he didn't want to change his mind and he did..." She smiled at Severina. That didn't quite sound right either, but Severina didn't think to question any of the things of that happened just now.

Coin Result: Heads

A little woozy and lightheaded, Syr Severina Valerose had returned to her lodgings in Rodelion to the arms of her beloved more or less fine. She had been attacked in an alleyway by several men equipped with oily rags and and incense burners, but she had instntly recognised the ruined visage of the bandit that had attacked her on the road a month ago and before they could take her out, she had crushed them with ease.

Severina was struggling to get free from the green brute's grip which was large enough to pin her arms to her side, his thumb and index finger almost meeting at her belly button. Delicately he was using his other hand to peel the clothes and armor from Severina. "Puny human." The orc laughed, as her breasts were bared for all to see, Severina tried to get out, to kick, to roll out of that grip, to crawl away, but enclosed in that iron grip she mostly seemed to be writhing underneath the orc leader.

Meanwhile the orc's hard, green dick was lying on top of her, enjoying the sensation of Severina's bare skin moving against his. The dick was long enough to reach up to her diaphragm as it rested on top of her. It was happily oozing precum from all this excitement, unleashing a heady, intoxicating scent, as it pooled and rubbed across her abs and slowly but surely flowed over to her chest. Severina didn't pay much attention to it as she was struggling, but the sight and the smell brought Cyrus, Skaeya and Serry to a blush as this horrifying scene seemed to excite them, despite their better judgement. There was something in the air, some energy to this moment that excited them.

Despite Severina's resistance and protests, the orc continued picking away at her clothes, until her pants and undergarments were removed, revealing her slender cock, also hard and oozing. She was also being affected.

"Puny human," the orc repeated as he slowly grinded his cock against her smooth, lubed abs and her own erection. "A duel with swords, it is!" The orc laughed, the rumble of his voice vibrating through his body and pleasantly stimulating Severina's cock.

Syr Severina Valerose was tightly gripping her fists and continued to struggle. Tears of humiliation streamed down her face as she was rubbing cocks with an enemy and at the same time her upper body was almost used like a fleshlight. The humiliation is almost too much to bear. With renewed vigor, she frees one hand and tries to claw at his grip.

Seeing her lover being hurt and humiliated like this, princess Seraphina runs up to Syr Valerose and grabs her hand, holding it up to her lips. "It's okay, Sevy, I could take it. We can take it." She said, blushing. That didn't sound right. As she looked at the princess, all red and sweaty, there seemed to be something off about her. There seemed to be something off about herself. She almost felt like giving up. Clearly, she lost... Right?

Before Severina could fully understand, the princess leaned in for a warm kiss, to Severina's great panic. She shouldn't do this. If she kisses her, then Severina will, she'll... But before Severina could protest or try to push her lover away, it became too much, and she shot rope after rop all across the orc's magnificent length that was dominating her.

Syr Severina could hardly make out what was happening around her, with the veil of princess Seraphina's pinkish golden curls enveloping them as they kissed and honestly, Severina stopped caring. She was kissing and holding hands with her beloved as she was cumming.

She thought she could hear Cyrus and Skaeya moaning behind her, but she had more pressing concerns as she felt something press against her behind, but before she could properly assess the situation, her cries of protest and surprise were crushed against the princess's sweet lips trapping her. The orc's slick, thick, hard cock easily pushed inside her, pushing out her breath and her thoughts, filling it with nothing but sex and cock.

She had never felt so full and as the great length bottomed out inside her, pushing so high up into her, she felt like she was going to black out, she heard that familiar grumbling again. He was laughing. He was laughing and it felt good, sending her over the edge again. Before she fell into the darkness of orgasmic oblivion, she heard the words: "Puny human is cold and hard on the outside, but inside you are soft and warm."

When she came to, she was alone with the princess in a tent, naked and wrapped up in the plush velvet cloak of the princess, her legs, chest and face all gooed up with fluids that she didn't want to think about, the princess stroking her hair. When the princess realised Seraphina was awake, their fingers intertwined.

"Don't worry Sevvy, I asked the big lug if he didn't want to change his mind and he did..." She smiled at Severina. That didn't quite sound right either, but Severina didn't think to question any of the things of that happened just now.

Tails!

The worst part of this was that she had never felt so good in her life before, Princess Seraphina thought to herself as her toes were curling and her legs were shaking while another orgasm washed over her body. Only the faintest grunts and moans of pleasure squirmed their way out from under the grey man's fingers clasping her mouth. She didn't know how long the grey man's big stone cock had been pushing in and out of the princess's special place, but through a haze of pleasure and exhaustion she could see the sky change colors from a warm purple to its brighter oranges and red, indicating that this thing with its warm and vibrating rock cock had been violating her for hours.

She realized that soon people would go out and about and see her being used like this with her top pulled down, her nipples painfully erect from the humid and cold air and her legs wrapped around the stone man taking her over and over again, well... It only aroused her more. People would see their beautiful and noble princess being defiled on the cobblestones and soon the whole country would know that their heroic heir to the throne was getting fucked and loving it in the slums of Rodelion.

As dawn progressed and the sound of wet slaps continued in the alleys, a small crowd started to gather and approach. As people crowded around the princess and the grey man fucking her, while covering her mouth and holding her waist in a stone grip, everyone was quiet and dumbstruck, unable to fully believe what they saw. The princess was unmistakably enjoying this with her legs wrapped around her assailant, her love juices thoroughly soaking her dress and the stone pelvis of her assailant. The wet slaps against her plump and juicy ass echoed in the stunned silence that surrounded the lewd display. And through the fingers of the assailant, a bewitching and enchanting tune could be heard. The bystanders froze for a moment, their trousers tenting visibly before Seraphina's eyes, despairing... Rejoicing?

Unable to do anything but obey their urges, the crowd stopped merely gawking and doing other unhelpful things like trying to remove the stone man off of the princess and decided to do helpful things like join in the worship of their princess, freeing their painfully hard erections from their trousers and stroking it to the mesmerizing sight of the princess's bountiful tits wobbling and rippling as her depths got plumbed by the smooth, hard cock of the golem. Some already started taking silky strands of her hair or her hands to help them jerk it to this divine sight. The princess, always kind and willing to please, could only oblige them as her hands started moving up and down their hard shafts.

At the duke's palace, Syr Severina had not slept a wink, worrying about the princess's whereabouts. Knowing the princess loved her long walks and conversations, she had decided not to follow or go looking for her. But when she left her quarters and heard the guards mutter that something strange and magical is happening at the slums, Severina rushed outside.

@toskalain replied:

The bandit leader has sworn his revenge, and now he knows a weakness of hers. (Even if she got away, the chloroform was working...) He'll have to bide his time and recover from his injuries, but someday, no matter how long it takes, he'll find her again. (He might even create a new identity in order to meet her.)

Heads!

Severina rushed through the city. Some strange man tried to point her the way, but she ignored him. He seemed familiar, but she wasn't interested. She followed where people seemed to gather and eventually found her beloved princess in the grips of her attacker, covered head to toe in the semen and love juices of bystanders, a row of men were standing at attention next to the princess, ready to cover her in another load of jizz. Around them the crowd had devolved in an orgy. Any bystander could be fucking any bystander, it didn't matter. The muffled moans from the princess were enough to work anyone into a frenzy.

Upon seeing this, Severina immediately intervened: she struck and beat apart the stone man, tearing up his arms and body in her iron grip and putting a stop to the spectacle. The princess moaned and gasped as the stone hand was removed from her mouth, the puddle of cum pooled between her breasts heaving with each breath she took. The very sound brought a blush and a warmth to Severina's face, but she managed to restrain herself. She quickly covered up the princess and carried her away. But not before she gave the princess a gentle kiss on her sweet lips.

Draped in her traveling cloak, she brought Seraphina to her own private quarters, refusing any help from chambermaids and locking the door behind her as she laid the princess down in her own bed. Exhausted and dazed from the continuous assault throughout the night, the princess had fallen asleep in Severina's arms. "You beautiful fool," she whispered under her breath as she brushed the sticky pinkish and golden curls from the princess's face, ever the picture of radiant beauty, apart from the sweat and cum dripping from her face.

Severina walked to her own private bathroom and drew water. Through some marvel of engineering, the duke's palace was connected to hot water springs from the mountains and hot and cold water could be drawn with relative ease in the ducal palace. As the water filled the giant, claw-footed bath, Severina was left alone with her thoughts for a moment. How horrible that this should happen; and right under her nose, too. She had truly failed as a knight, failed as a friend. Biting on her fist in the corner of the bathroom she tried to stifle a sob and blink away her tears, the only sound that could be heard in the bathroom was the flow of hot water and the ragged breaths of Severina, trying to collect herself.

Not too long after, Seraphina stirred from her slumber, realising the strong and reassuring arms of her friend were no longer holding her, she looked around. She recognized this place as the Duke's palace, but this was not her room. There were neither books nor large suitcases in the room and there was no sign of her stuffed animals. The wardrobe wasn't absolutely bulging with gifts and lavish outfits, either. As far as guest rooms in the ducal palace went, this was almost spartan. "Sevy?" Seraphina called out for her friend as she went to sit up, her friends cloak falling from her shoulders, revealing her torn blouse with her big bust spilling out. Severina quickly collected herself, wiped her tears and returned to her friend.

Severina almost felt her heart leap to see the princess sit up in her own bed, not covering her bare breasts, smiling at her. At the same time, she hated herself for admiring... No, enjoying her friend's beauty in a moment like this.

Severina tried not to think about it and sat down next to the princess.

"Did you manage to get some rest, Serry?" She said gently as she was stroking Seraphina's hair, not caring what was in it. Seraphina nodded a little.

"I still feel so very tired, but I am also feeling so... Unladylike, Sevy. I..." The princess stammered, but she couldn't manage to express her feelings. On one hand, the memory of the pleasure was still vividly playing in her head over and over again, on the other hand she felt deep shame that so many people had seen her naked and not only that they had seen her being used, they had also seen that she enjoyed it and the onlookers took part in enjoying it, too. It was a lot to take in.

"Your Highness... Serry, you shouldn't worry about that. You are the most elegant, warmest and kindest lady in the entire world, and I am sure everyone knows this deep in their hearts." Severina tried to reassure the princess. "They will see this assault as the black-hearted and insolent attempt to destroy your reputation that it is." If her skin had not been divinely touched, Severina would be drawing blood with how tightly her nails were digging into her own palms as she said these words.

The princess didn't respond, leaning into the soothing touch of her childhood friend. Severina held her and continued stroking her hair, smelling the princess' perfume mixed with the sweat and salt on her skin and her hair. The only sounds that could be heard in the room was the flow of water and the steady breathing of the princess and her attending knight.

"Come, Serry, I think your bath should be full now. Let's get you properly undressed and clean you up a little. I am sure you'll feel better after you take a bath." Severina said. Seraphina didn't say anything and she was reluctant to let go of Severina, but she allowed Severina to gently unswaddle her and remove her torn and soiled dress and undergarments. When Severina took the princess's hand to lead her to the bathroom, the princess pulled the hand closer to her chest and looked at her with her big eyes. "Will you join me, please? Like... When we were kids?" Severina's heart skipped several beats, and her mouth turned dry as sand. She is usually always calm and collected, but for a moment she was at a loss for words. She could never say no to those eyes. "Of course, Princess. It would be an honor." She defaulted after about ten seconds that may as well have been ten lifetimes.

Seraphina pouted a little. "Please, call me Serry, okay? I just want us to be friends like we used to be, okay? You don't always have to be my servant." She said as she walked with Severina into the bathroom, hand in hand.

Once she escorted the princess, no, Serry into the bathroom, Severina took off her scarf, her boots, her gloves, her coat, her trousers, until she was only wearing a long dress shirt that went down to her knees. She took the jars of oils and soaps from the cupboard and knelt with them next to the bathtub. "Now, close your eyes and let me wash your hair, okay, Serry." Severina told her with a softness in her voice that sounded strange to her in her own ears, but Seraphina seemed not to mind as she laid back and closed her eyes. "All right, but after that you come into the bath with me, okay?" Seraphina protested as she closed her eyes.

Seeing the princess like this was almost too much for Severina. The princess's waterfall of golden and pinkish curls washed out behind her; you could almost drown in them. Severina imagined what it would be like to drown in them. What would it feel like to sleep while holding the princess and feeling those long locks tickling your nose, brushing against your face, your chest, your legs. And those wonderful locks framed the cutest face, with her large, round eyes, her plump kissable lips and a small slightly upturned nose. And below that, well, Severina could feast her eyes all she wanted on the princess's royal bosom bobbing up and down with the waves of the bathtub, waving to and fro.

Drinking in this miraculous and painterly view, Severina felt like she was being cooked from the inside. At the same time, she was so grateful to witness such beauty, but she also felt like a scoundrel for seeing her childhood friend like that, especially when she wanted to be there to support her.

Lost in thought, she lathered and rinsed the princess's hair, washing away any evidence of what happened this morning. As she massaged the princess's scalp, the Princess gasped a little. "Oh, Sorry, Serry, did I pull your hair?" Severina asked.

"No... No... Please continue," the princess said, keeping her eyes closed, her voice trembled a little. There was a tense pause for a minute.

"Sevy, do... Do you think I'm disgusting?"

Severina was a little taken aback. "Don't be silly, Serry, why would I think that?" She said as she rinsed Seraphina's hair again, the warm water and foam running down her hands.

"B-because I... I... Enjoyed it when..." The princess paused, her lips slightly trembled, a tear welled from her shut eyes as the words started tumbling out of her mouth: "I lost my first time to a... A thing and... I liked it and everyone saw me and now I can't give my first time to the special person that I love, and no one will ever want me. You won't even get in the bath with me, because I am such a dirty woman." She brought her hands to her face, ashamed, afraid, alone, crying.

Severina looked at the princess below her, her dearest friend in her lowest moment. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do. She just did what came naturally to her. She leaned in towards the princess and pressed her lips against hers. Cautiously at first, almost devoutly. Like a sister might comfort you. But as they held the kiss, the princess slightly parted her lips and invited Severina in, igniting fireworks in Severina's head, when her lips felt the edge of the princess's teeth, the princess testing Severina's mouth with her tongue. Unable to think or consider anything, they were like this for at least several minutes, their kiss becoming more sensual and hungrier for each other as time went on.

There was a surprising sweetness with a subtle salty undertone to her embrace. Severina enjoyed the taste and when they broke the kiss, a small trail of saliva connecting them, Severina tried to commit the taste and this moment to memory as much as she could. The princess had opened her eyes and turned around to Severina so they could be face to face more comfortably. A silence lingered between them for a moment. Severina was almost vibrating with equal measures of anxiety and excitement. Fuck, she just kissed the princess in an inappropriate way, fuck. Worse, what if she realizes that she's desired her for so long.

A thought process that the princess interrupted by leaning out of the tub and giving Severina a long, lingering kiss again. Severina felt like her heart was about to escape her chest, she felt herself desiring the princess more ferally by the minute.

When the princess broke the kiss, Severina smiled and blushed. Her usual iron demeanor melting like snow in front of a radiant sunrise. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side, Serry. I-I love you." She said and she felt it and her heart leapt when Seraphina smiled at those words.

"Well, then, I feel it is only proper for my knight to hold me and be by my side." Seraphina teased a little. Her smile quickly turned into a mock pout, however. "Now, if you really mean that, you should take off your shirt and join me in here. This bath is big enough for four and you're just sitting here at the edge. You're making me feel lonely in here."

Severina hesitated. "I... It's embarassing to admit, but I have changed a lot over the years and I am afraid you will hate me and be disgusted by me." She hesitated to say. The princess shook her head at this and looked up to her strong knight with those wide, innocent eyes. "There is nothing I want more than to see you as you. There is nothing you can show me that would push me away. Not if it's you."

At these words, Severina blushed and pulled her shirt even further down, moaning a little, as she imagined getting in with the princess. She wanted to crawl in the bath with the princess so very dearly. She hesitated for a moment, but relented and slowly pulled up her shirt, revealing her athletic physique, tanned and covered with scars. Severina was on the thin side, but her breasts were a perky handful that were pleasing to the eye, from there you could see the tight muscles of her abs, leading down to... Her cute cock, desperately drooling and eagerly straining upwards with need after all the events of the past few minutes. It was not terribly big, but it stood fully at attention, ready to claim and cover the princess as much as possible. The princess looked surprised for a moment.

"Sevy, I never noticed." Seraphina blurted out. She didn't mean to be rude, but she didn't remember this when they went swimming together as kids.

"It's new..." Severina said through gritted teeth, turning red with shame. "It's a part of... The god told me no warrior should go to battle without a sword and so well... My body changed..." She stammered. "I knew it would be weird." She said, as she started to cover her body. "My body is all scars and... This..." She started to say when Seraphina took Severina's hands into her own.

"Don't cover yourself." Seraphina said as she guided Severina closer to the edge of the bath, their fingers intertwining. Holding hands, locking eyes, Severina looking down at Seraphina as Seraphina went back on her knees in the bath with Seraphina standing up. Seraphina kissed Severina's tip before taking her knight in her mouth in her entirety. Flicking her tongue across the head and bobbing up and down, Seraphina maintained eye contact and kept holding hands with her knight. The princess's soft lips pumping up and down Severina's length made the knight see stars and shut her up.

Good, Seraphina thought to herself, the knight should be building up the princess, she thought to herself smugly as she made her knight buck and moan against her face, eagerly wanting to come, chasing the high of the princess accepting all of her in her mouth. Before Severina could cum however, Seraphina pulled away with a mischievous smile, spit dripping from her chin. "Now, come and keep your princess company in the bath."

Hungry for more, Severina climbed into the bath with Seraphina and plunged into her princess's creamy bosom, no... Her delicious tits, where they spent a long time exploring each other's bodies, kissing each other. Severina loved to kiss and bite Seraphina's breasts and neck. Seraphina loved to explore Severina's muscles and tease her nipples with her fingernails. They kept playing with each other like this, until Severina was well and truly on top of her princess, mauling her breasts and face, leaving a trail of bite marks and hickeys in her wake.

Between moans and grunts, Seraphina subtly guided Severina's cock inside her eager pussy. Severina wasn't the largest, but she was hard as steel and all this biting and kissing had driven her feral and she was greedily thrusting into the princess so vigorously the bath water was churning and making waves, spilling over the floor, the princess's delicate cries muffled by her knight's fierce kisses easily could be heard from outside their room.

It didn't take long for Severina to come inside her princess like this, but Seraphina whispered how she was amazed how perfectly they fit together and how pretty and chivalrous she looked inside her, Severina immediately rallied and started fucking her princess with renewed vigor, until they both came together. They continued like this until several hours had passed. Sometimes they came to their senses and tried to wash each other but quickly succumbed to their desires again and started fucking. Seraphina teasing her knight into fucking her and Severina claiming her princess for her and her alone. They went at it until they nearly passed out in each other's arms, sweating and exhausted, thoroughly drenched in each other's love.

Tails!

The worst part of this was that she had never felt so good in her life before, Princess Seraphina thought to herself as her toes were curling and her legs were shaking while another orgasm washed over her body. Only the faintest grunts and moans of pleasure squirmed their way out from under the grey man's fingers clasping her mouth. She didn't know how long the grey man's big stone cock had been pushing in and out of the princess's special place, but through a haze of pleasure and exhaustion she could see the sky change colors from a warm purple to its brighter oranges and red, indicating that this thing with its warm and vibrating rock cock had been violating her for hours.

She realized that soon people would go out and about and see her being used like this with her top pulled down, her nipples painfully erect from the humid and cold air and her legs wrapped around the stone man taking her over and over again, well... It only aroused her more. People would see their beautiful and noble princess being defiled on the cobblestones and soon the whole country would know that their heroic heir to the throne was getting fucked and loving it in the slums of Rodelion.

As dawn progressed and the sound of wet slaps continued in the alleys, a small crowd started to gather and approach. As people crowded around the princess and the grey man fucking her, while covering her mouth and holding her waist in a stone grip, everyone was quiet and dumbstruck, unable to fully believe what they saw. The princess was unmistakably enjoying this with her legs wrapped around her assailant, her love juices thoroughly soaking her dress and the stone pelvis of her assailant. The wet slaps against her plump and juicy ass echoed in the stunned silence that surrounded the lewd display. And through the fingers of the assailant, a bewitching and enchanting tune could be heard. The bystanders froze for a moment, their trousers tenting visibly before Seraphina's eyes, despairing... Rejoicing?

Unable to do anything but obey their urges, the crowd stopped merely gawking and doing other unhelpful things like trying to remove the stone man off of the princess and decided to do helpful things like join in the worship of their princess, freeing their painfully hard erections from their trousers and stroking it to the mesmerizing sight of the princess's bountiful tits wobbling and rippling as her depths got plumbed by the smooth, hard cock of the golem. Some already started taking silky strands of her hair or her hands to help them jerk it to this divine sight. The princess, always kind and willing to please, could only oblige them as her hands started moving up and down their hard shafts.

At the duke's palace, Syr Severina had not slept a wink, worrying about the princess's whereabouts. Knowing the princess loved her long walks and conversations, she had decided not to follow or go looking for her. But when she left her quarters and heard the guards mutter that something strange and magical is happening at the slums, Severina rushed outside.

@toskalain replied:

The bandit leader has sworn his revenge, and now he knows a weakness of hers. (Even if she got away, the chloroform was working...) He'll have to bide his time and recover from his injuries, but someday, no matter how long it takes, he'll find her again. (He might even create a new identity in order to meet her.)

Heads!

Severina rushed through the city. Some strange man tried to point her the way, but she ignored him. He seemed familiar, but she wasn't interested. She followed where people seemed to gather and eventually found her beloved princess in the grips of her attacker, covered head to toe in the semen and love juices of bystanders, a row of men were standing at attention next to the princess, ready to cover her in another load of jizz. Around them the crowd had devolved in an orgy. Any bystander could be fucking any bystander, it didn't matter. The muffled moans from the princess were enough to work anyone into a frenzy.

Upon seeing this, Severina immediately intervened: she struck and beat apart the stone man, tearing up his arms and body in her iron grip and putting a stop to the spectacle. The princess moaned and gasped as the stone hand was removed from her mouth, the puddle of cum pooled between her breasts heaving with each breath she took. The very sound brought a blush and a warmth to Severina's face, but she managed to restrain herself. She quickly covered up the princess and carried her away. But not before she gave the princess a gentle kiss on her sweet lips.

Clockwise from top left: Kyrie, Penumbra, Spellweaver and Speedfreak

The club was packed, hundreds of bodies pressed up against each other in the warm, loud space. The whole building seemed to shake with the pounding of the bass in the tracks being played, and the dancefloor writhed with couples dancing suggestively. Rachel curled a lip in disgust as she saw people making out openly, uncaring of the other dancers surrounding them, and felt a pang of regret at attending. But Emily's hand dragged her onwards, and as Rachel's eyes returned to the woman she loved the regret faded. The club wasn't her scene, but Emily liked it, and that was enough for her.

They followed the wall until they were halfway around the dance floor before Emily let go.

"I'm going to grab us some drinks. See you in a few!" Emily said. Rachel opened her mouth to reject another drink, but Emily was already gone, and she suddenly found herself alone, surrounded by couples murmuring in each others ears or drinking together. She suddenly felt awkward and out of place. An environment like this - filled with fragile people that she couldn't navigate around - was where her powers weren't much use. She could super speed out of the club if she had to - and she'd leave a wide trail of broken bones behind her, and the distinctive green glow of her superspeed would be seen by everyone.

It didn't help that men were checking her out. She could feel their roving eyes on her, taking in her slender figure, the curves of her waist and hips and ass. It made her feel dirty. She shifted her clutch between her hands uncomfortably.

Another drink wouldn't help with the unpleasantness. She'd had a couple, but one downside of her superspeed was she had a super-metabolism to go with it. Speedfreak couldn't get drunk. Of course, Emily didn't know that, because she didn’t know that Rachel was Speedfreak. She just thought Rachel held her liquor well.

Suddenly a man stepped up next to her, his eyes fixed on her. He was tall, of medium build, with brown hair and a kind of generically handsome face that she struggled to tell apart from all the other men she heard straight women thirst over. Rachel hated him immediately.

"Hello. Do you mind some company?"

"I don't want anything to do with you." Rachel said as she made a show of looking him up and down dismissively.

He leaned over, his voice just barely audible over the club music.

"I think you do… Speedfreak."

Rachel opened her mouth to deny the allegation, but the words died on her lips as she saw the knowing glint in the man's eyes. The club faded into the background as she focused on him. He didn't resemble any of her villains… but that was little comfort. Her secret was out.

"What do you want?"

"I imagine it would be awkward for you if everyone here realised who you were. Especially between you and your girlfriend…" Something on Rachel's face must have given her away, because his lips curled upwards into a smirk.

"Oh, she doesn't know, does she? That makes this much easier."

"I said, what do you want?"

"I saw an interview you did a few weeks ago, where you came out and said you were, what was it, a "gold star lesbian". I was so disappointed."

"Your chances of getting a date with me would be zero even if I was straight, creep." The man laughed.

"Heh. A date isn't what I had in mind. In my experience, women like you say they're lesbians just because they don't know any better. So if you don't want me to tell everyone here just who you are, we'll upstairs and I'll show you what you've been missing out on. By the end of it, you'll like cock as much as any of the other sluts in this club."

Rachel gulped as the man leaned further into her personal space. She couldn't escape right now, but also couldn't risk him telling everyone… but she was a superhero. Surely there was a way out of this?

Flip a coin – tails!

"Uuungh, fuuuuuck-" Rachel groaned as the blackmailer penetrated her, her cunt unused to be filled by anything bigger than Emily's fingers. She could feel his long, hard prick stretching her out, distorting her, stuffing an emptiness in her that she hadn't realised she had. One of his hands moved up to squeeze the corners of her mouth together, and Rachel clenched her teeth in disgust as he tried to keep her quiet.

"That's it, bitch, take that cock." He growled, his other hand hefting one of her asscheeks and squeezing until his thick fingers sunk deep into her flesh. He had rolled her miniskirt up around her waist when he bent her over against the wall in this deserted part of club's upper level, in an alcove hidden from the main corridor, and his hands hadn't left her ass since.

She vaguely wondered how no one had found them yet, but thinking was hard when her body was being assaulted by the novel sensations of her pussy being filled for the first time.

Then the man started to move. She tried to ask him to start slow but it came out as a "Huuoorgh" and he ignored her, quickly picking up speed. Each thrust took away that stuffed feeling from her and then returned it twice over, until it felt like her whole body was being filled by his disgusting cock. Worse, she could feel raw physical pleasure begin to pulse in her core, even as her body shook and shuddered at the violation.

"God, look at this ass. Completely wasted on dykes." His hand came down in a sharp slap that made Rachel let out a long groan. Emily was never rough with her like that. But to her shock she could feel her cunt moisten at the pain that radiated through her ass, and his thrusts moved slicker and faster at the sudden lubrication. He seemed to notice it to, as she felt him lean forwards to whisper in her ear.

"Yeah, you liked that, didn't you. Guess they call you Speedfreak for a reason." The hand on her mouth tightened further and Rachel's eyes widened as he started spanking her cheeks every few thrusts and filled her ears with admiration for her ass, treating her like a piece of meat. She shivered in revulsion at his words, but tuning them out only drew her focus to the building pleasure in her core. She hated it, hated herself - but it was still there, growing, each thrust building something within her that was nothing like the gentle climaxes Emily delicately coaxed from her. This was like a flood filling her threatening to burst and overspill.

His hand loosened on Rachel’s mouth, but she could do was let out low moans as he pounded her. It seemed like every thrust went deeper, each striking a part of her that she did not know existed. Her whole body rocked with the force of his thrusts, thrusts that filled their little alcove with a steady plap-plap-plap sound. Rachel’s world narrowed, and she forgot Emily, forgot Speedfreak, forgot her powers; all she could think about was the horrible cock that filled her and the degradation that was forced upon her and the ecstacy building within her.

Suddenly, the dam broke. Rachel's vision went white as her orgasm hit her. Her whole body shuddered and her legs wobbled and gave way, and she only stayed on her feet because of the blackmailer's hard cock buried deep inside her, kissing her womb.

"Fuck." Her blackmailer groaned as he came too. Rachel could feel his cum flooding into her, filling her, but she barely noticed through the haze of pleasure and the shame and guilt that came with it. She shouldn't have came. She was a lesbian! How could a man's cock get her off?

"Wow, looks like I was right. You aren't a dyke after all." He gave a harsh laugh as he pulled out and spanked her ass once again, the action sending pleasant tingles through her core. The words barely registered as Rachel breathed heavily, her mind clouded and confused. She could barely hold herself upright with her hands against the wall. She needed to… she needed to clean up. And find Emily. It was over now, she could forget about this and go back to her life. She was vaguely aware of movement on the floor by her feet.

"Hey, wha…" She finally stood back up, trying to ignore the feeling of his semen inside her, and turned to see him holding her forgotten clutch and peering at her drivers license.

"Rachel Dolmen, huh?" Rachel's sudden rage brought her mind into focus.

"You bastard!" Her fist clenched as she raised her arm weakly. Her limbs felt loose and soft after the brutal fucking she had received.

"Her, none of that. Unless you want your secret identity on the evening news." Rachel stopped and lowered her arm, glaring at the man's smug face with undisguised rage.

"Oh, don't be like that. You had a good time tonight, don't pretend you didn't. Here." He pulled a card from somewhere. "My number's on there."

"You really think I'm going to call you?" Rachel growled. She was almost vibrating in rage.

"Within the week. Or the world learns Speedfreak is Rachel Dolmen. And I still need to teach you how to suck cock properly. I would have done that tonight, but your girlfriend probably would have noticed if I'd messed your makeup up." He pulled out a pocket square. "Here, clean yourself up. I'll see you around, slut." He walked past her back toward the stairs to the club, but not before tossing her clutch to her and giving her one final, harsh slap on her ass.

Rachel stood there, in shock from what had transpired, her ass stinging from his cruel hands. Her phone beeped and she saw it was a message from Emily asking where she was. Rachel's breath caught, and her mind raced. She had to get cleaned up. She had to go find her girlfriend and give her a convincing explanation for why she had disappeared. And she had to call the guy who had just raped her, find a time to meet up with him, and suck his cock. Why did that idea not completely repulse her like it would have an hour before?

---

Spellweaver fights her way into a Supervillain's secret lab, fights off his pair of genetically enhanced tigers, and finally kicks his ass. Unfortunately, even though police are on the way and she has a tied-up Supervillain in her arms, his henchmen won't give up! She may be out of mana, but she would never live it down if she lost to some nameless grunts after making it this far!

"Ulzumosh" Spellweaver cried out, launching a helix of twisting light from her hand that slammed into the enormous tiger a moment before it would have reached her with its vicious claws. The spell burst and turned into a cage of light, dragging Dr Oddity's genetically modified guard tiger to slam into one of the walls of the loading bay that served as the back entrance to the evil inventor's underground base. The tiger growled, attempted to rise to its feet, and then collapsed to the floor. The second tiger did not stop at the defeat of its partner, and slammed into her hastily raised shield with all the force of a truck. But the shield held.

Now she was close enough to look the tiger in the eye, a muttered "Rangazare" hypnotised the tiger long enough for a second blast of light to knock it out.

Spellweaver frowned. She didn’t like fighting animals, and the tigers were a victim of Dr Oddity like many of the others she had aided today. They were clearly suffering, the poor things; she could even see their barbed cocks erect and proud beneath their bodies, clearly a side-effect of whatever growth hormone Dr Oddity had used.

She turned attention to the fight ahead. She knew the lab area was on the other side of the loading bay, filled with whatever surprises Dr Oddity had left. She was low on mana – but it would be enough. She was a superheroine!

A twist of magic flicked the switch that opened the huge doors into the lab, and Spellweaver sauntered in. She tried to project confidence and arrogance, enough to convince Dr Oddity and his lackeys to surrender rather than fight.

“This ends tonight, Doc.” She shouted as she strode into the cavernous lab space. From the doorway she could see incubation tanks and workbenches, mechanical devices and vials of fluids of various colours and all manner of machines connected by miles of cables. She didn't know how it all worked - she was a witch. At the back loomed a strange orb of light on a pedestal, like a white whole in the world, which caught her eye for a moment before she spotted Dr Oddity standing in the middle of the lab, half a dozen of his henchmen spread out around the room.

“Now, are you going to come quietly?” She added saucily. She could feel the eyes of the men in the room on her.

Dr Oddity let out a cry of rage in response to her question.The scientist was short, bald and not particularly pleasant looking, and he seemed torn between lust and rage as he hefted a strange looking contraption at pointed it at her. "Get her, boys!"

"Renthon!" Spellweaver conjured up a quick shield as the inventor opened fire, as did his henchmen. The energy blasts of their weapons met her shield with a KA-KRAK! and the room was filled with blinding darkness. On instinct she raced forward into the inky blackness that filled the room, ducking towards where she had seen Dr Oddity standing last and lashed out with a punch. She was rewarded by a shout of pain and the thump of him hitting the ground, and she followed up by touching his prone body to cast her best binding spell, which would hold him in place until the police arrived.

Even surrounded by darkness, she felt a surge of elation at her victory.

Then Spellweaver felt something shoot past her. She ducked, breathing heavily as she realised just how close a call that had been. She hurried to crawl through the darkness, away from where the blast had come from, but the noises of the henchmens’ shooting continued above her. They'd hit her eventually by blind luck, if nothing else. Then she remembered the orb at the back of the room. She couldn't see it through the all-pervading shadow, but she took a guess and let out a blast of magic with a shouted "Akari" in the right general direction as she kept crawling. Yet with that last spell, she felt the pit in her stomach that indicated her mana had run out, and panic gripped her.

Light returned to the room. Dr Oddity was out on the ground. So were two of the henchmen. The other four were still standing, looking down in dismay at their suddenly depowered energy guns. Spellweaver stood, finding herself in the middle of an open area in front of the incubation tanks. The four henchmen turned to her, and she raised her hands and adopted what she thought was a mystical hand gesture.

"Right, are you pendejos going to surrender, or are you going to make a fight of this?" She said, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster.

The henchmen didn’t respond for a moment, and Spellweaver though this would end quietly.

“You know, I think if you could still cast magic, we’d all be hurting real bad right now.” The nearest henchman said, as he took a single step towards her. She didn’t respond, and he grinned. So did his comrades.

“What was that the Doc talked about earlier? Wanting to see how magic was inherited?” another one said. “How about we give him a chance to study it properly?”

Spellweaver gulped as she realised what they intended, but then she clenched her fists. Sure, she was outnumbered - but these were just ordinary thugs, and she had been trained in hand to hand combat by Kyrie herself, and the police were on their way. She wasn't going to be beaten now!

Flip a coin… heads!

"Stay! Down! Culero!" Spellweaver punctuated each word with a punch to the head, the last finally causing the henchman to fall unconscious to the floor.

Spellweaver’s whole body ached, she was covered in bruises and abrasions, and her hair was only half-in her customary but she wasn’t done yet.. Her costume was torn, exposing expanses of brown skin, as she turned towards where the final henchman was. He was just standing there, like he was waiting for some-

She realised just as the other henchman, who she had thought was down for the count, hit her with a tackle that swept her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, and her head swam.

“She took out Dave and Robin.”

“Yeah, and you can go try waking them if you like. I’m going to enjoy myself.”

Spelleaver wondered, through her hazy thoughts, what he meant. Then she felt rough hands on her chest, pulling down her costume and pinching her nipples roughly.

“Damn, look at the tits on her. Think’s that where she stores the magic?”

Maria’s screamed in protest inside her head, but her limbs refused to move through the pain and disorientation. She felt teeth graze her nipples, and a rough hand heft one of her asscheeks.

“Fuck, I’ve never seen a stripper with a body as fine as hers.”

“Just be grateful – strippers don’t let you touch!”

Their mocking laughter set a fire of rage burning inside her, and as she felt hands push her legs apart and migrate up to her hips, the violation leant her new energy and she slowly, painfully forced her muscles to move.

“You can keep playing with those tits, I’m having her cunt fir-aargh!” The henchman screamed as Spellweaver kicked him in the balls. Before the other henchman could react she punched him in the face and rolled before scrambling to her feet. A leg caught her own and she stumbled before blindly reaching out for anything she could use as a weapon. Her hand closed on a glass vial and she slammed it into the head of the thug who had groped her breasts as he came in for a punch.

He let out a scream of pain, and there was an unpleasant sizzling sound. Spellweaver struggled to stand upright; her knee ached, her shoulders hurt whenever she moved her arms, and she had cuts and bruises all over. But she stood nonetheless, calling on her last reserves of strength to give the henchman in front of her two kidney shots and a brutal knee to put him down, before slamming another glass vial onto the head of the henchman she had kicked in the balls. Then the lab was finally, mercifully, still.

Spellweaver stumbled over to a nearby stool and sat down, fixing her costume as best she was able before the police arrived. Her whole body was sore and she zoned out through the wait, barely noticing when the police arrived, cuffed Dr Oddity and his henchmen, and led them away.

"You look like you could use this." A police officer said as he handed her a water bottle. Spellweaver took it and began to drink greedily. "Though you look pretty roughed up. I'm surprised. Couldn't you just…" Spellweaver didn't have the energy to speak, so she looked up at the sheepish expression on his face. "You know, say some magic words and tie them all up?"

Spellweaver sighed.

---

@undernether

A villain called Snail's Pace has been causing trouble through town and has been growing bolder by the day. Originally thought to be a speedster, his power seems to be more that he can slow and maybe even freeze the relative flow of time in a limited area, allowing him to steal grand and valuable items and play pranks on heroes and cops trying to stop him. Kyrie suspects that Speedfreak's speed may just be fast enough to cope with Snail's powers and invites her to attempt to ambush him at the city gala tomorrow, where surely he would strike next. With Speedfreak's alacrity and Kyrie's durability surely they would be able to halt the daring cat burglar.

“I know that all the news about robberies and pranks has got people nervous. But don’t worry, with both of us on the case, Snail’s Pace is as good as caught!” Speedfreak gave a smile and thumbs up to the news reporter, and the camera kept rolling for a few moments before the segment finished and the reporter departed to talk to one of the other distinguished guests.

“Quite the fancy party, huh?” Speedfreak said to Kyrie, as she snagged an hors d'oeuvre from a nearby waiter.

“Yes, and we had best be leaving it and patrolling.” Kyrie said. She walked with long, purposeful strides towards the next gallery in the museum, and the crowd of men in tuxedos and women in evening dresses parted for her readily, occasionally stopping their conversations to stare. Speedfreak hurried after her.

“Yeah, patrol. Definitely.” Speedfreak said, keeping up with Kara’s longer stride with brief bursts of superspeed. Some of the other eyes in the room were on her, and Speedfreak couldn’t deny, it was nice to be admired, respected for her heroism and her ability to keep people safe.

“Can I just say how much I’m enjoying this team up? Snail’s Pace isn’t going to know what hit him!” Kyrie's lack of response caused Speedfreak's face to fall, and she said nothing more as Kyrie led them away from the gala.

Kyrie looked around as they stepped under a rope barring off the museum’s East Wing from the gala attendees, checking for anything suspicious. As the pair walked through the empty parts of the museum, far from listening ears, she spoke in a low voice.

“I think you need to be more careful about how you talk to the media. Setting expectations of when you will catch criminals only invites criticism if you should fail, even due to circumstances outside your control.” Kyrie’s jaw tightened. “This goes double when the exact details of a villain’s power are still unknown to you. We haven’t even got a good idea of what Snail’s Pace looks like.”

Kyrie looked around the empty gallery, and spoke with a sterner tone.

“Plus, being insulting towards villains in the media like that can make them vengeful, which is never a good thing. I’d take a dozen professional villains over one with a grudge any day.”

“Okay, I think I get it. But I haven’t been insulting him!” Speedfreak protested. Her eyes was momentarily caught by a piece of modern artwork, that at first she thought was a fish, then a man, then a house. She shook her head. She didn’t get art.

“You named him, and not with a particularly flattering one at that, to the media. Villains care about their reputation, and that involves being intimidating. “Snail’s Pace” is not a scary name.”

“Urgh, fine.” Speedfreak admitted, crossing her arms. The older hero was probably right. Kyrie seemed content with her acceptance, and continued their patrol through the deserted part of the museum.

“You’ve got to say it fits, though. The ability to slow down time around himself… well, it’s glad you called me in. Between the two of us, we’ll definitely be able to catch him.”

Flip a coin… tails!

“Gaghk, gaghk, gaghk.”

Speedfreak’s mouth was forced wide around the cat burglar’s prick as… she? they? pushed her head down with their gloved hands. Tear’s ran down Speedfreak’s cheeks at the feel of her throat being violated, and she looked up at the thief who had beaten her.

The cat burglar grinned down at her, their short black hair tousled from where they had removed their helmet, their beautiful androgynous face twisted in an expression of sadistic pleasure, their slender body contained in in a tight catsuit that clung to the curves of their substantial breasts. and had emphasised the bulge between their legs during their brief fight.

Speedfreak couldn’t believe she had ended up in this situation, drool running down her chin as Snail’s Pace pumped their cock roughly between her lips, filling her mouth and pressing down her throat.

She had stumbled upon the cat burglar as they had entered the museum, but soon found that the thief’s field of slowed time was strong enough to essentially render Speedfreak an unpowered woman. Then they had fought, and she had quickly lost; with almost lazy maneuvers Snail Pace tripped her with their whip, then wrapped her wrists behind her while she sturggled to rise. And now she was at Snail Pace’s mercy, hed hands still bound and her entire body controlled by the burglar’s strong arms.

“You know, I was uncertain about coming here. Too much heat, not worth the risk. But then I saw in the news yesterday that you would be in attendance, and I just had to drop by.”

Speedfreak stared up with watery eyes as the cat burglar increased their pace, brutally shoving their cock down her throat. She found herself perversely glad that her blackmailer Ethan had prepared her for the horrid sensation, but even he wasn’t as violent as the villain she faced now.

“Snail’s Pace, really? That’s the name you came up with for me? And spread all over the media. No one will take me seriously with a name like that. I was going to go with Crawler, or Decelerate, or something. Not Snail’s Pace!”

Speedfreak gagged on the cock bulging in her throat, and the sound only seemed to anger the cat burglar more. They pulled back and then thrust forward even harder, shoving their long thick cock into Speedfreak’s gullet until her bottom lip touched their balls. It felt like the cock was in her stomach and she tried to whimper, but no sound came out. Her vision spun as she started to run out of air, but Snail’s Pace held her there for agonising seconds more before finally letting go.

The reprieve was brief before they continued fucking her face.

“So I thought I’d come here and show you something much better to do with your mouth than gossip with reporters.” They gave a groan of pleasure as their hips shuddered, and suddenly they were cumming. Speedfreak could feel it shooting into her throat and coating her tonsils, could taste the salty fluid in her mouth; and then they just kept cumming, filling up her whole mouth until she had no choice but to swallow. It felt disgusting as she gulped it down and the cock in her mouth started to soften.

“Ah, and there’s the other heroine of the hour!” Snail’s Pace exclaimed, her head turned towards the wide entrance to the gallery.

Speedfreak turned her head, hoping that her mentor would appear to save her; but while she could see Kyrie, the woman simply stood there on one foot, moving imperceptibly slowly, her eyes wide and inmoving as she gazed at Speedfreak’s position. Snail’s Pace’s field of frozen time was still up, and despair gripped her.

She felt a light slap on her cheek and turned upwards to look at the owner of the cock still lodged in her mouth, which had aready begun to harden again.

“How about this? If you can get three more loads from me by the time I have to get out of Kyrie’s way, I’ll call it even. If not… well, you’ll be seeing me again.”

"It's a bit obvious, isn't it? Surely there's a trick here." Spellweaver said, as the four of them looked down on the Alpine castle which the supervillainess Pasiphae had seized as part of her latest plot.

"Pasiphae can be subtle, but she also does things like this occasionally simply to flaunt her power." Kyrie said, folding her pinoculars back into her armor and turning away from the castle to look at the other superheroines. "Her magical might and arcane skills mean that imprisoning her is practically impossible. She'll seize a castle and declare herself Queen simply to get a chance to fight superheroines and remind the world that she exists. And, of course, to keep people scared so that when there is something she actually does want, they'll just give it to her."

"That's… absurd." Penumbra said, frowning.

"That's supervillains for you." Speedfreak smirked. "At least she makes it easy for us."

"This will not be easy." Kyrie's tone was stern. "Pasiphae can usually find multiple supervillains to aid her. We know that Melk and Murk, who you know about, have joined her, as has Ringout, who has tangled with Mindwarp before. He can generate shrinking hard light rings that are extremely difficult to break. You'll all have to be on guard. Focus on those three, while I fight Pasiphae directly. I'm sure you'll be up to the task."

There was a chorus of affirmations from the other superheroines, and Kyrie felt a burst of pride for the other superheroines she was mentoring.

"If I know Pasiphae, she'll be in the largest room in the castle, which is the ballroom. If we follow this ridge down we should be able to avoid being spotted until we can go in via that back entrance there. Follow me."

The descent down to the castle was quick, and there was no sign of an alarm as Spellweaver folded them through the wards Pasiphae had placed on the castle and they entered the bottom level of the castle.

But they had only ascended a single flight of stairs when they found themselves face to face with a skull-shaped mask that made the three younger heroines start in fear.

"Oh, I was wondering when you would arrive." Skullfuck's voice was deep, melodious and amused. The bulk of his bony armor seemed to fill the stone corridor beneath the castle.

"Girls, go. I'll handle him and catch up with you." Kyrie said, her voice hard as steel, not letting her eyes leave Skullfuck for a moment.

"But…" Speedfreak began.

"Are you sure they don't want to stay? I'm sure they'd find it enjoyable."

"You all know how his powers work. You're in more danger the longer you stay here. I'm immune to his mind control and I could beat him with two hands behind my back. You can handle Pasiphae and her lackies. I'll be right behind you."

"Kyrie, it's Skullfuck" Spellweaver said. "I know what he does to heroines if he wins. They're never the same afterwards. We should all fight him together."

Skullfuck's skull-shaped mask seemed to spread into a wider grin as he listened to the discussion. He flexed his fists, preparing for a fight.

"I'm not risking you all. You girls can do this without me. I trust you. I'll see you after these villains are all arrested. Now go!"

Kyrie heard the other heroines depart, still staring as Skullfuck. As their footsteps faded, Skullfuck slowly advanced. Kyrie raised her fists, ready for battle. She could not afford to lose to him!"

Flip a coin… heads!

Kyrie fist collided with Skullfuck's head, the blow sending him crashing through two more walls of the castle. The armory room and the rooms around it echoed with the sound of collapsing masonry and sent up dust clouds that Kyrie batted away with superhuman waves of her hands. Their battle had ruined an entire wing of the ancient structure, and Kyrie allowed herself a brief pang of regret at the damage as she clambered through the broken stonework towards his prone form.

When she arrived at the room she had punched him into - some kind of bedroom - SKullfuck was slowly clambering to his feet, but Kyrie believed in kicking villains when they were down. The first kick sent him back to the floor, and then she rained punishing blows down upon him while avoiding his pitiful attempts to retaliate until his bloodied, battered form could barely move. Then she stood, breathing heavily as she looked down on her vanquished foe.

"How many times do we have to do this? How many times do I have to beat you into a pulp before you stop?"

Slowly, he started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" She growled.

"Until I win." Blood dribbled from his mouth as it contorted to make the words around the broken bones of his face. Kyrie knew he wasn't going to die; his healing powers were slow but unstoppable. "You have to win every time, but I only have to win once. One day I'll ruin you, and I'll forever be known as the man who turned the great Kyrie into a mindbroken fuckpet."

Kyrie clenched her jaw.

"And when I've done that, I'll head down to Elysium and visit that mother of yours, and do the same to her. I'll sit on the throne of Elysium with the two of you between my legs, your minds only thinking of my cock." He smiled with bloody teeth. "I can't wait."

Kyrie was used to the taunts of supervillains, but a sudden burst of hot rage filled her at the thought of this monster perverting the intimacy she shared with her mother. She clenched her fists.

"Well, there's one way to make sure that never happens."

Skullfuck's eyes widened as he realised what she meant.

A minute later, she turned away from his body and ran towards the ballroom, where she hoped to find her fellow heroines victorious.

---

If Kyrie makes it out unscathed, you should flip for the other group as a whole and see what state they're in when she catches up to them. ;)

The three heroines ran through the halls of the castle, ignoring the increasing loud rumblings from behind them where Kyrie was fighting Skullfuck. None of them spoke, all unwilling to broach the possibility that Kyrie might lose, that they might never see their mentor again – at least, not with her mind intact.

Spellweaver couldn’t stand the silence, and realised that they needed a plan for the upcoming fight.

“Speedfreak, take out Pasiphae first. She needs to speak for her spells like me, so you’ll be able to take outmaneuver her. Penumbra, take out Melk and Murk. You’ll be able to evade them, and use them against each other. I’ll bring down Ringout, and then help whichever one of you two needs it most. Got it?”

“Who made you the leader?” grumbled Penumbra. Spellweaver turned to glare at her.

“Fine.” Penumbra said, rolling her eyes.

“Come on girls, Kyrie has put her trust in us. We can’t let her down. We’re going to beat these pendejos, and Kyrie is going to trounce Skullfuck, and good will triumph over evil.”

“Yeah, let’s do it for Kyrie!” “For Kyrie, yes.”

A huge pair of double doors loomed before them, and Spellweaver yelled out a spell that blew them off their hinges as they advanced into the ballroom. The four villains stood there, waiting for them, with Pasiphae in the centre. Her elegant black gown hugged the curves of her hourglass figure tightly; her hair, dark as midnight, fell in straight curtains around her face, and her purple witches’ hat sat stylishly upon her head.

On her right stood the twins Melk and Murk, with their red skin and horns, four arms apiece and mismatched body shapes; Murk was cracking his knuckles in a way that emphasised his vast muscular frame, while Melk’s thin elastic limbs seemed to bounce in place. On her left was Ringout, an ordinary man in a blue and white costume with glowing rings of light surrounding him and a leering smile on his face.

“Ah, the trainees have arrived. Are you sure, young Spellweaver, that you don’t want to take up my offer of apprenticeship, rather than pursue this… doomed fight?” Pasiphae’s voice was husky and alluring as ever.

“Doomed? We’ll never lose to scum like you!” Spellweaver shouted, and the battle was on.

Flip a coin… tails!

The ballroom was filled with pleasured moans and groans of pain, the sound of flesh slapping on flesh and cries of dismay.

In the middle of the room, Pasiphae sat basking in her victory, her ass firmly planted on Spellweaver’s face. Her prodiguous booty smothered the younger witch, the cheeks almost touching the floor and leaving the heroine deprived of sensory information; she could see nothing and hear nothing around the soft expanses of flesh that surrounded her head, smell only the older magician’s taint and taste only the pussy she had her tongue buried inside.

Pasiphae’s hands had a tight grip on Spellweaver’s breasts, her sharp nails scratching along their slopes or twisting the nipples painfully as she luxuriated in the pleasure she was receiving.

“That’s it, keep going, you’re picking up an apprentice’s duties very well.” she reassured the young witch as she rocked back and forth, grinding herself on Spellweaver’s face. At a momentary loss of tongue movement she dug her nail into a nipple, and was rewarded with a muffled squeak and redoubled oral attention. Satisfied that her new apprentice was coming along well, she turned her attention to the rest of the room.

The fast girl, Speedfreak, was suspended from the ground between Melk and Murk, her legs and arms danging in the air, her body held up by their arms and their girthy cocks. Occasionally her legs would wobble a bit in place, but otherwise she seemed completely out of it as the twins pounded into her. Melk, the shorter one, was fucking her face, his cock bulging her pale throat with every thrust. Murk meanwhile fucked her from behind, the motions causing the redheaded woman’s huge ass, almost of a size with Pasiphae’s own, to bounce with obscene motions.

Pasiphae exulted at the speedster’s defeat as she reached up to feel the small cut on her cheek Speedfreak had given her during their brief fight.

“Oh, how good it is to see a arrogant harlot like that properly humbled. Maybe I’ll borrow those brothers to do the same to you when you get uppity, my dear.” Spellweaver seemed to take the comment as an criticism and her tongue picked up the pace, leaving Pasiphae breathing hard as warmth built within her core.

The idea was more than an idle thought. To Pasiphae’s mind, there were few better sights than seeing a woman like that ruined by a thick cock or two – and if she couldn’t find men of the calibre she needed, she typically used magic to grow her own. Once Melk and Murk had had their fun, she would take the speedster away and properly break her until there was nothing left of her mind. It would serve as a good example to Spellweaver of why she should obey her new Mistress.

Turning to the other couple in the room, Pasiphae felt a deep satisfaction at how well she’d put this little group together. Penumbra’s shadow powers were something Pasiphae was eager to study with the mystic arts, and Ringout was the perfect counter to her abilities. He wasn’t a remarkable man, but he did have a remarkable power, excellent for restraining and trapping women. They even looked good with his rings of light tight around their wrists and binding their arms to their chests. She intended to keep him around, and keep him pliant with money and sluts like the one he was currently enjoying.

Penumbra was on her back, arms restrained behind her in glowing blue rings in a way that forced her sizeable chest up and outwards. Her layers of cloaks had been torn, exposing the twin creamy mounds of flesh, which Ringout had placed his cock between and was now frantically fucking, his unimpressive cock disappearing between the fleshy pillows as he squeezed them with his hands. Penumbra occasionally let out a little cry of despair or pleaded with him to stop; no one paid attention to her.

Pasiphae felt something catch within her, and the steady swell of pleasure that Spellweaver’s tongue had been giving her suddenly built up speed. She closed her eyes in pleasure as Spellweaver slowly brought her to orgasm. Pasiphae let herself relax into it, riding hard on Spellweaver’s face as she let every pulse of ecstasy flow through her.

As she came down from her climax, she realised Spellweaver had stopped eating her out. Pasiphae rose up onto her knees, and the brown-skinned woman beneath her took a great shuddering breath, her pretty face entirely smeared with Pasiphae’s juices.

“Good girl.” She said, her voice cutting through the sound of Spellweaver filling her lungs with air. “Now, again!”

Before the young witch could take another breath, Pasiphae sat down again, and the hall echoed with the wet clap of her ass on Spellweaver’s face. The other witch got to work without a single noise of protest, and Pasiphae hummed in pleasure that the young witch was so naturally submissive. She once again considered growing a cock, this time inside Spellweaver’s mouth, then fucking her face and seeing how the young magician handled a litre of cum being poured down her throat. But Spellweaver seemed so eager to please her that Pasiphae reconsidered. There would be time for that later.

When they got back to her lair she was probably going to spend at least a week doing nothing but fucking her new student in every way imaginable.

While she had been cumming the twins had switched position; now Melk took Speedfreak from behind on her hands and knees, while Murk forced her pretty face down his vast cock, his hands tightly gripped in her red hair. Her jaw stretched wide to allow him entry, but her eyes had rolled back in her head, to Pasiphae’s delight.

Yet she noticed something was different. The rumblings from the other wing of the castle had stopped. Pasiphae smirked. Skullfuck had finally finished, and soon Kyrie would be barely able to speak full sentences, let alone stand as the beacon and leader for new superheroines. Pasiphae would be free to pursue her projects, amass power and apprentices, break whatever slut she wished…

A wall burst open, and Kyrie entered the room; scuffed and battle damaged, but entirely whole, her fists covered in blood and her face twisted in rage.

“Oh.” was all Pasiphae managed to say before Kyrie’s fist met her face.

---

@undernether

Penumbra has been tracking down an underworld figurehead named Warlock to stop him from running a human trafficking and pit fighting operation. Warlock seems magically gifted due to his propensity to make magical escapes and his ability to field a near-endless supply of slightly fantastical henchmen. To try and put a stop to his operations once and for all, she decides to enter the Underworld Arena as bait, while Spellweaver can work into the background to undo any magic that Warlock uses to facilitate his miraculous escapes and his endless supply of loyal henchmen that could show up from anywhere.

"Are you sure about this, Penumbra?" Spellweaver asked. It was only the clear kindness in her eyes that kept Penumbra from snapping back at her. The two were stood on a roof, not far from the old theatre Warlock was using as the centre of his operation. Night had long since fallen, and the pair had been watching the steady trickle of people heading towards Warlock's metahuman fighting event for more than an hour.

"Yes, I'm sure. Though if you don't think you're up to helping…" she said.

"Of course I am." Spellweaver stretched, drawing Penumbra's eyes to the way her tight purple costume clung to the curves of her body, and looked away. Spellweaver was the fellow heroine she got on best with, but the woman was still… provocative.

"You're completely right that these servants of Warlock's are magical from the traces they left at those crime scenes. Though teleportation and the creation of magical servants are a bit of a strange combination of arcane skills…"

"Does it matter?" Penumbra asked testily. She didn't like magic, and she preferred to leave it to a specialist like Spellweaver.

"Not really, I suppose. Though your shadow powers would probably be better suited to handling these servants of Warlock's than dealing with his teleportation."

"Warlock is my case. I'm not letting anyone else take the lead on it." Penumbra huffed, and turned away from her fellow hero. "Just make sure you keep the weird beast-dudes busy while I deal with Warlock."

Before Spellweaver could respond, she dropped down off the roof, using her powers to slow her fall. As dark as it was, her powers were at their zenith; she could smash apart the theatre where Warlock had made his base with ease. But given his teleportation powers, he'd probably still get away, and his entire network would go to ground. Her white robes - a disguise to sell the idea of her as a different newtype to the known hero Penumbra - fluttered around her as she made her way down the alleys to the small side door for the meta-brawl's competitors.

A knock revealed an extremely tall man who gazed down at her from behind the reinforced door.

"Newtype?" He asked. There was scepticism in his voice.

Penumbra used her powers to make her robes flutter around her and extended the hidden fabric into a swirl of threatening tendrils of cloth. It had taken her a while to work out how to pretend to have different powers than she did, but she quite liked the result.

"I'm Stitcher."

She saw the faintest hint of a smirk on the man's face as she was directed inside and guided down a passageway by another burly guard, but breathed deeply to stifle her anger. The interior of the complex was well lit, but a quick internal check showed that it was not nearly lit enough to limit her powers. Soon she could hear the steady roar of the crowd awaiting the start of the event, and she was led into a large backstage room that looked to have a dozen other newtypes present. She curled her lip in disgust when she saw the frankly lewd costumes the other female competitors were wearing. Ignoring their conversations, Penumbra crossed the room to look down another long corridor - and was rewarded with the sight of Warlock talking to one of his men, a smug smile on his goateed face.

Penumbra let a small smile spread across her face. With Spellweaver's aid, there was no way Warlock was getting away!

Flip a coin… tails!

Warlock's hand hefted one of Penumbra's tits before rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She squirmed, and her wriggling pressed her ass back against the hard prick she could feel poking into her from behind.

"Oh, you are a feisty one, aren't you?" He laughed as he grabbed the front of her robes and tore them off her. She could do nothing to resist; the bright lights taken from the arena were all turned to focus on her, and she couldn't summon the slightest mote of her shadow powers to save her.

"Please, just let me go." She begged. The large backstage room was empty save for the two of them and the powerful industrial lights that Warlock had used to trap her. She should have realised that the whole thing was a trap once she was asked to go to a different room to the other contestants; instead Warlock had manifested, taunted her, and led her on a merry teleporting chase around the backrooms of the pit-fighting complex until in her frustration she had manifested right in the brightly-lit room.

"Hmmm…. no, I don't think I will." His other hand was heavy on her abdomen, pulling her back towards him. She could feel his cock between her legs, brushing against her lips without penetrating her. "Besides, the show will start in a moment or two."

"What sho-?"

There was a crash as Spellweaver stumbled in through one of the side doors, followed by the bulky forms of Warlock's animal-headed henchmen. One had a bull's head, the other a lizards, the third a horse; but all of them moved with power and purpose as their muscular forms, naked from the waist up, surrounded Spellweaver, whose costume was battered and ripped from the fight. She muttered an arcane word that forced her assailants back, but as she turned and saw Penumbra caught, stripped naked and being groped by Warlock's big hands Spellweaver's eyes went wide in surprise.

A long pink tongue shot out from one of the other side doors and wrapped around Spellweaver's mouth, taking advantage of her momentary distraction. She twisted in panic, trying to get it off as a frogman and several other animal-men emerged from that door, but the beastmen quickly surrounded her and began to pull apart her costume as well.

"The Beastmen of Agadash." Warlock said, as Penumbra could only watch in horror as the beings in question lowered their crude trousers to reveal an array of huge bestial cocks. The tongue binding Spellweaver's face detached for a moment, but before she could utter a single word her head was pulled forward and her open mouth filled with a long, thick horsecock even as more beastmen appeared from elsewhere in the complex. "I discovered their realm by accident while working on my teleportation powers. It didn't take much to gain their allegiance, and with the right application of my magics they can manifest from their realm as I need them to."

Penumbra cried out as her friend and fellow heroine was manhandled by the beastmen, who moved with singular purpose as they arranged her for ideal fucking. The frogman who had caught Spellweaver ended up beneath her, and pressed his sticky cock against the lips of her pussy; meanwhile the bullman had knelt behind her, and Penumbra watched Spellweaver's whole body flex when the bullman's big, rough hands seized her hips.

"Please stop them!" Penumbra wailed; but it was in vein. She saw the beastmen penetrate her friend in one coordinated motion, even as she felt Warlock's cock finally slip between her pussy lips and enter her. He slid in easily, and Penumbra realised that watching Spellweaver's assault had gotten her wet. Warlock's hands tightened on her breasts, groping and massaging them as he began to fuck her with shallow, almost gentle thrusts. She felt his breath on her ear as he leaned forwards.

"Keep watching her." Penumbra couldn't look away if she tried. The beastmen pulled and pushed Spellweaver's body as they fucked her, a brutal cycle as one buried himself as deep as he could in her throat, then the second, her cunt; then the third, her ass. They all let out bestial grunts and groans as they rutted against her, even as the sound of their balls clapping against her flesh filled the room. Other beastmen stood around her, groping her flesh, pinching her dusky nipples or pressing their cocks into her hands, which started to jerk the cocks almost subconsciously. Warlock's cock steadily pushed deeper and deeper within Penumbra, filling her up as jolts of pleasure flowed down from her sensitive breasts to build in her core.

Suddenly, the horse-headed beastman who was roughly fucking Spellweaver's throat let out a whining sound as his whole body seized up; Penumbra could see her friend's throat bulge and cum begin to dribble out around the edges of her mouth.

"They don't have the best stamina." Warlock said, sounding disappointed as he tugged one of Penumbra's nipples upwards, lifting her whole tit in a way that sent pleasure and pain coursing through her. "But they do have numbers on their side."

The horseman backed away, and Penumbra felt a surge of hope as Spellweaver clearly prepared to cast something. But before she could another bestial cock, this one knotted and red, filled her throat. Soon the other beastmen finished, pumping their loads into Spellweaver's curvaceous body, but each of the witch's holes was only allowed a brief moment of respite before it was stuffed with another beastmen's cock. Penumbra's eyes were fixed on the other heroine as the beastmen manhandled her, moving her into different positions so more and more of them could access Spellweaver's nubile body.

As she watched, Penumbra's own pleasure built and built from Warlock's steady, even strokes and his careful hands playing with her. The bright lights surrounding her meant she could do nothing as she watched her friend and fellow heroine get gangbanged by the seemingly endless horde.

There was a moment when the beastman fucking Spellwaver's face pulled out, and Spellweaver didn't even try to cast a spell around the cum that filled her mouth, that Penumbra realised just how badly the two of them had lost. Even as a lizardman shoved both his long, hard cocks into Spellweaver's cunt, Penumbra's whole body contorted and she let out a loud moan as a small orgasm hit her at the realisation of their defeat. Warlock tugged her body closer to his as the ecstacy filled her.

"I knew you would enjoy the show."

Skaeya grins a toothy grin , admiring the ingenuity of the fishmen. Finding an avenue of attack like this where she is cut off from her allies is what a skilled hunter would do. She was not concerned however. Were the plump princess, her lap dog and the sick book worm going to be able to do anything useful? Skaeya laughed out loud at that thought and her steel axe flashed in wide arcs as she dashed through the ranks of the fishmen easily dispatching them.

This Shadow King must really be out of his depth here, if he thought this would have a chance at stopping her. She was already thinking about how she could brag to her "allies" about her recent solo victory when suddenly her foot couldn't reach the ground beneath the surface anymore. In a panicked moment she is kicking away at the deep darkness underneath, which easily swallowed every step and every flail.

She tries to get her bearings and look at the coast which seems ridiculously far away, a small stripe on the horizon. She realises she had gone too far chasing her prey and without ground to stand on she could not build the momentum needed to keep killing. She glances around and sees the fishmen are intimidated by her, but have her surrounded. They also started to notice that her blinding speed and dangerous metal murder tool have stopped. They eagerly swim around her and throw out their nets. Underwater they would be able to do whatever they wanted with her.

Skaeya felt the nets entangle her arms and legs and felt herself being pulled down in the water. She swiped around but couldn't reach them and the seaweed-lined nets proved difficult to cut. She could feel her vision darken as she was dragged deeper and she started to run out of breath. The fishmen encircled her, their prey clearly weak and struggling to stay conscious. They palmed her sizable ass under her fur skirt and worshipped her hard abs and perky breasts which moved pleasantly along with the current, she could feel their sharp teeth graze her skin. A feeling that was... Not too unpleasant? She had to get out of here.

"I can't... die like this..." Skaeya thought, but she couldn't get any momentum going and she was sure she would be lights out soon. She felt their hard tube-like shafts poking her from all sides, but she couldn't really see them this deep under water. One of the fishmen grabbed her by the hair and pressed their mouth to her full lips. Her lungs greedily drank the oxygen the creature breathed into her. Snapping back into consciousness more sharply, she realised this is the game they were going to play with her.

They would grope and use her body and she wouldn't be able to resist because she needed them for oxygen. They slowly started stripping and disarming her, giving her a deep oxygenated kiss before she would lose consciousness. Then they would push her back into the middle of them where they started molesting her and poking her with their strange cocks, trying to find her entrance, apparently not having the best idea of human anatomy. She was starting to lose count of how often she had been kissed and not even mind the taste of their salty tongues by the time one of them had positioned behind her, hovering their fish dick near her ass, she could feel the tip poking inside. In her panic she swiped at the creature which could easily evade her.

In this movement, she suddenly felt hard stone under her feet. She had no idea how deep she was, but this was all she needed. Pulling her self to all fours on the rocks, she shot away, using her arms and legs to "climb" rapidly across the surface. Using the hard surface for leverage she could shoot herself quickly to where she thought the shore was. Her lungs were bursting with stabbing pain and her arms and legs were starting to tire out. She bit down hard in an effort not to breath in any water.

Like a bat out of hell, she breached the surface onto the beach. As naked as the day she was born, she sank to her hands and knees and started coughing water on the shore. She fought back tears of humiliation and gratefully took deep breaths and tried to rest her burning muscles.

"Um... Lady Skaeya, are you all right?" Asked a voice as sweet as it was kind. She looked up. Of course it was the princess and her companion. She could see the sick boy a little further away from them. He didn't like to run.

"Please, Skaeya, take this." Said princess Seraphina as she took off her crimson travelling cloak with gold inlay. "I know you er... Are very proud of your body, but I think you would be more comfortable like this." She smiled at the fierce warrior as she draped the clock across Skaeya's shoulders. Her smile was so genuine, Skaeya couldn't even bring herself to think anything mean about her for that moment. She gratefully accepted the cloak. "Thank you, princess Cupcake." Skaeya smiled back. Seraphina immediately went for a hug. For a moment, Skaeya enjoyed the sweet perfume and the soft and warm body holding her.

Syr Severina rolled her eyes at Serry being so overly affectionate. "You did great work, Skaeya. By my count that is several dozen of them dead on the shore. I am sure you finished the job underwater? Impressive." She commented drily.

Count Silesius walked through the halls of the castle in a way that most would call "petulantly" or maybe would even be described as "More like stomping through the halls," but they would say this about him well out of ear shot, for he had a reputation of being cruel. He was muttering to himself, because once again the king had denied his requests. Sigismund had denied the count a petition to lower taxes on his domains, a petition to marry one of his daughters, a petition to be granted a legal land claim and the king even denied him a petition to raise more petitions. Sigismund "the Wise" they were already calling him in his life time. What a sick joke.

"Surely, there's no need to hoard all his daughters to himself." He grumbled and with this dark mood hanging over him, he did not care to pay attention to the people around him or walk normally when suddenly he bumped into some waif in the hall way. The waif was particularly well dressed, her dress had deep reds, white frills and golden accents and her... crown fell to the floor. Oh god, he knocked one of the royal heirs flat on the ground. He quickly grabbed whichever princess he just knocked down by the shoulders and profusely apologised.

"My apologies, madam, I did not see you there, I was lost in thought," Silesius started and stopped because he looked into the famous, emerald-green eyes of princess Seraphina, third in line to the throne. He looked her over to see if she was okay, tearing his gaze away from her beautiful, expressive eyes only for his gaze to be arrested by the impressive cleavage the princess boasted. She seemed to be breathing at least, with the way her chest seemed to move up and down.

"I am fine, er, count... Silesius, was it?" The princess asked with a genuine smile. Her voice was like an angel tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It was like the sunshine drying your clothes after a heavy rain. Both of those things were romantic feelings the count had never felt in his life before.

"Oh yes, thank you for your concern, princess, everything is fine with me and I am glad to see your father is good and well." The count said, masking his disdain for the monarch expertly. An idea crept into his head. "But I must go now, my carriage is waiting to take me to Rodelion."

"Oh, you are going to Rodelion, too? I am going to visit my dear friend, Severina, and will be headed there shortly." The princess said, her smile almost gaining a radiant quality at the mention of her friend.

"What a wonderful coincidence," lied the cruel count. "Perhaps we should travel together? My carriage could move a small family. Oh, you are friends with Syr Severina? I will have you know, I have worked with her on several occasions, perhaps we can swap stories."

The princess seemed delighted. "I would love that, Count Silesius. If you are a friend of Severina, I can think of no better chaperone on my journey." There was something absolutely intoxicating and infectious about the Princess's emotions, the Count realised. He felt like he should kneel for her, which he did. The princess offered her hand to him and the count gently kissed her ring. This was very unnatural behaviour for him and it worried him.

The journey to Rodelion from the royal capital is fairly brief, but also miserable, the roads wear out easily due to bad weather and the long coastline is both hilly and prone to rain. They decided to stay the night in an inn. The princess asked if they had any rooms available and the innkeeper absolutely refused to take her money in exchange for the biggest rooms that he would keep empty especially for her, whether she accepted it or not. The count would think the inn keeper was a spineless kiss-ass hoping for a royal boon, except he had just spent the entire day discussing 14th century kobold poetry with her, so he knew that this was just the effect she had on people. The longer you talked to her, the more you wanted to please her.

He figured that he better try his luck today, before he chickened out. He brought his own fortified ale from the dwarven mountains on this trip. He liked it, but also people from the south heavily underestimated its strength and he suspected Seraphina was a featherweight. As Seraphina returned to dine with him, he poured her a tall glass. "Now, listen close, Seraphina, I am about to tell you all about that time me and Syr Severina went on a manhunt to find Ernest, the Elusive Earl."

"And that is how Darren, the Disgraceful Duke, had been exposed by me and because of his crimes he was banished from the realm." Silesius declared triumphantly as he slammed his cup on the table. He looked across the table at his mark. Seraphina seemed a bit slow and confused. "Right and... Erm..." She started. "That was a wonderful... Story of friendship and bravery." She concluded, a far cry from the deep literary analyst she was on the carriage ride here. Perfect.

"My lady, you should retire to bed I think. I suspect you have no head for this dwarven brew." The count commented as she gently guided her out of the chair and up to her room. He gently laid her on the bed, admiring his prize. Marveling at her generous bust almost spilling out of her corset, the way her luscious lips rested slightly parted, the way he could peek at her creamy thighs as she lay down. His mind rapidly started filling with vivid images of him fucking her every which way, painting her inside and out.

She probably wouldn't even remember anything that happens tonight, the count thought to himself as he got on the bed with her. He laid his hands on the fastenings of her corset.

"Oh, my count, could you help me get out of this?" She practically moaned. "I already told my maids to go to bed without me, so it would be a great help if you assisted me." She added a little unsexily. The count did as he was told however and almost tore the corset off her. The princess quickly covered her chest and blushed.

"Oh, you rakish rogue, were you hoping to stay in my room with me, after you helped me?" She said, surprised.

Surely she wanted this as well, the count thought as he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. He froze for a second admiring her pale breast heaving, he wanted to free his throbbing cock and start fucking those glorious tits right away. He could see her nipples were innies, shy and tucked away. He would love nothing more to tease them to come out to play. He was sure he could fuck her all day and all night. Her body looked like a playground for the perverse nobleman, but something gave him pause. As he looked at her blushing face, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"I am sorry, my dear chivalrous count," She said with pain in her voice that sank his heart to the very depths of the earth. "I did not know you felt this way about me, but I already love another. I will keep you in my heart, but we cannot be together like this."

Upon hearing this, the count immediately released her. Seraphine grabbed her bed spread and pulled it up to her neck.

"I apologise, princess Seraphina, I don't know what came over me." The count said, in a way that didn't make any sense to him whatsoever. He should have been ravishing her body as soon as they entered the room, forcing his child on her and manipulating her into marrying him. Her angelic voice should be screaming out his name as he claimed her. With tears of regret and shame and confusion, the count blew a chaste kiss at the princess and left.

The very next day the princess woke up and found a letter under her door. The letter stated that the count is terribly sorry for the misunderstanding and wishes to return home to contemplate his actions. His staff and carriage will take her to Rodelion and make sure she is safe with Syr Severina before leaving her. Appended to the letter was a five page essay the count had written on 15th century kobold poetry and the schism between Late Chivalrous style and early Mannerist style, which the princess could read on her way to the capital. If she ever dared to forgive the beastly manners he showed last night, he would eagerly wait for a response to discuss this deep and multi-faceted topic.

She was scheduled to meet the duke of Rodelion as soon as soon as she arrived as the first Chosen of the gods. For this reason, Seraphina had encouraged her to not go in full armor and instead wear the silk, blue coat she had bought for her on her birthday, along with the emerald green shirt and white scarf ensemble. Severina rolled her eyes at this, but she couldn't resist seeing the delight in her childhood friend's face when she obliged her. After a tearful goodbye ("It's only a few days, Serry!") She had gone on her way.

Severina was writing in her notebook, but her thoughts kept drifting back towards Seraphina and the way she had kissed her friend on the cheek. Severina still felt pleasantly warm inside at the memory, when the carriage abruptly stopped. Severina climbed out quickly when she saw the driver had his hands up with several ruffians having them surrounded, aiming their crossbows and having their swords ready.

"Oooh, we didn't expect a pretty lady to come bearing gifts." A portly man with an eye patch said. He was eying the emerald necklace peeking out from under Severina's scarf as well as the two rings she wore. One was a ring with the sigil of her noble house and the other was a friendship ring she had received from Seraphina. "If you're really sweet to us, dear, we'll let you and this poor bastard go with one horse and maybe one shirt." He chuckled and licked his lips.

Severina felt a little impatient. She took out her pocket watch, much to the delight of the greedy bandits who were astonished at how much casual wealth this random lady was carrying on her. Between the jewelry, the clothes and the watch, who knows how many riches she was hiding inside that carriage. She clucked her tongue when she realized their journey would be delayed by at least fifteen minutes and that is if she didn't have to clear out the bandit's bodies from the road after having slain them. She drew her sword and decided she wanted to make this quick. Before she had set even one step towards the bandits, she felt the tip of a crossbow bolt bend and bounce off of her chest, tearing her coat. "You'll pay for that." Severina said out loud, to everyone in the vicinity really. "That was a gift from her majesty."

Stunned but not demoralised, a few of the bandits charged her. She might be wearing armor underneath her clothes, but she was still just one woman! Severina, who was spoiled due to her power, rarely even blocked nowadays, relying on her body to break or bend her opponent's weapons. She grabbed one cutlass, and it shattered between her fingers. She took another bandit by the wrist and crushed it between her fingers. In the meantime, bolts struck her without effect and swords broke on her body.

The bandits started to disperse, as they began to realize they had no chance of harming this woman. As she was hoping she could just intimidate them into running away, she opened her mouth to order them to flee when suddenly a sweet tasting rag was pushed into her mouth from behind. Their leader somehow managed to sneak behind her. She started feeling woozy, this was some kind of narcotic or poison.

(I swear, I am not manipulating anything here.)

A little wobbly on her feet she spat out the rag and backhanded the bandit captain, shattering his jaw and nose. Seeing her in a moment of weakness, some of the bandits tried to take her on with renewed courage. Severina was slow, and her fencing was miles behind, but she managed to brute force her way through. At the end, about a dozen bandits lay strewn across the road, either dead or half-dead, the rest ran away. Their leader, spitting bloody teeth, managed to crawl out of sight, swearing bitter revenge.

The many sword strokes she endured had reduced her outfit to tatters, barely managing to cover her breasts. This somehow made it even more scandalous to look at her than if she had been naked. She got back in the carriage and resumed her journey to Rodelion, making a slight detour to her personal quarters first. Among the upper echelons of society, a foul rumor started to spread that Severina was an exhibitionist pervert who felt too good to have an audience with the duke, due to her being late and some of the staff claiming she had left the carriage naked.

Skaeya was a little sweaty, but she enjoyed the exercise, the soreness in her muscles after a good workout, the heady smell of blood in the air from taking down impressive prey as she rested near the body of a large boar that had clearly been driven mad and decided to wander the roads to terrorize random travelers. It was a great battle that she had won decisively with only her bare hands.

On his knees in front of her was some man with more money than sense babbling the strange southern language. Skaeya had spoken to many southerners in her life and could converse with them easy enough, but this one had such a strange lisp and accent that she had a lot of difficulty understanding him. She figured he was grateful to her for incidentally saving his life and that his name was Shileshius and if she went to his house, he would reward her or something. Skaeya wasn't particularly fond of this man, who might have been pleasing to look at, if he hadn't indulged in whatever decadent lifestyle he took part in as a southern nobleman.

"Save it, go to your house, tell everyone Skaeya Wolfblooded has come, tell them I slaid this creature." She said, mentally already considering how she was going to grill the pig and preserve the meat for the rest of the journey.

"At least take my noble steed as a sign of thanks, violent stranger." The man almost begged. He seemed afraid. This wasn't the first time she encountered people afraid of her for seemingly no reason. She was a blood-soaked hero, not some bandit. Is he stupid for not getting that? She didn't particularly care, however. "I shall take your animal as a gift. Now, leave." She commanded. The rich man seemed grateful hearing those words and ran away.

She decided to check her gift horse. It seemed like a proud beast, despite its slender legs and shorter frame compared to most other horses she'd seen before. It also seemed to have a decadent and luxurious air about it with its gold bit and gem-studded saddle. She awkwardly took off the animal's bit and bridle and let her divine gift of animal speech do the talking. "My name is Skaeya, I am now your new mistress." She announced. She never owned an animal before, so she thought she should probably make things clear from the get-go.

"The wretched creature can speak, my gods. I had been convinced thou wouldst kill my master and devour me whole." The horse spoke to her with an aristocratic tone and in the southern tongue. This honestly shook Skaeya a little. Every animal she conversed with thus far spoke like she did. She had just assumed the animals were translated by the god of the hunt to a language she would understand. She muttered: "Uh... Well..."

"Thou hast the language of a common broodmare, even. By what sheer audacity darest thee claim mastery over me!" The steed bristled at Skaeya. Skaeya quickly recovered, barely understanding what the horse said, but understanding he is challenging her for dominance. "Now listen here, you skinny-legged bastard!" Skaeya interrupted, "I am Skaeya Wolfsblood and no animal has the right to disobey me!"

Somehow, the horse smirked at her. "Thou not only speaketh like a broodmare, thou hath the smell of one."

Coin flip: Tails Horse!

Skaeya felt a little dizzy, her head in a fog, unsure what happened, but she felt a great weight on top of her and something was filling her special place in a way that she had never felt before. She let out a keening moan as she felt a great length slowly pull out of her, leaving behind an emptiness she didn't know she had. She had issues seeing what was going on, as she was face down, compressed, unable to move her arms, her hair in front of her eyes. "Uh, uh, wha- OOOOO" She cried out as she felt the length fill her back up, immediately followed by a meaty thwack as she felt the heavy weight on her back slap against her firm but curvy butt. She tried to reconstruct the series of events that lead to this.

Judging from what she could see and see and feel, she was folded over a tree trunk. She could see the horse's front legs to her left and right and things started to fall into place. As she slowly started to realize what was happening, she felt herself get stretched out deep in her core. Almost as if she was going to be split apart, her breath was driven out of her. She tried to protest or say something, but every time she managed to take a breath it was immediately slammed out of her by a foot length of horse cock insistently battering away at the entrance of her womb like an invading army storming a castle.

She tried to remember the events. The horse had seemingly acquiesced to her demands, after an intense discussion, butting heads with her, brushing against her flank, she remembered the horse's cock "accidentally brushing" against her a few times, staining her skin and fur attire with generous dollops of precum. She remembered riding the horse for a bit and then... Darkness... She fell?

It was difficult to keep her focus as the stallion on top of her kept her pinned and kept driving his dick deep inside her at a ruthless pace. But this cock-filled torment she was filled with started to feel strange. She felt warm and she almost felt this gentle sweetness in the recurring pain that filled her which caused her to start moaning. She tried not to let out her voice by biting down on her lips, but every breath punched out of her by the unreasonable horse dick came out sluttier and sluttier. The horse on top of her snorted. "Finally awake, my stupid broodmare? Just in time to receive a filly." The stallion on top of her grunted as it was rutting in her bruised and battered pussy, accommodating and stretching around the horse cock. "Uh - uh - uh... Uhhhhh..." Grunted Skaeya eloquently in response, as she felt her own orgasm approach, unwanted, yet inevitable.

Unable to do anything, unable to move, unable to resist, unable to even call out for help with the heavy stalling mounted on top of her and rutting away, Skaeya resigned herself to cumming. She choked back tears of humiliation and defeat as wave after wave of orgasm washed over her, her pussy happily devouring the horse cock that was destroying her insides, the stallion came too, pouring his seed into her insides until it spilled out. As the horse slipped out of her and let her be for a minute, Skaeya felt unable to move, the severity of her humiliation and the repeated orgasms having sapped all her strength.

"You are a nice broodmare. I shall lay claim to you and keep you as mine." The horse declared next to her. "As long as my name is Beucephalus."

Skaeya barely managing to hold onto her sanity only managed to moan and nod as she felt thick, pearly seed spill out of her. The laws of the wild and the hunt were on his side. He captured her. She was his.

The great, lionesque woman towered over him as he looked at the slab, trying not to let her get to him, his heart going a million a minute. The sphinx was both a beautiful woman of statuesque beauty and grace and also clearly an apex predator, standing a foot and a half taller than him, her muscles rippling visibly beneath her skin.

The Liber Tenebris, a centuries-old treatise on the very nature of death, the afterlife and the realm of the dead, written by someone who had regularly communed with the goddess of death herself. A priceless artifact hidden behind only a riddle. He had conversed with the goddess very briefly himself, but he was fascinated by the idea of reading other accounts.

"I dance without feet, I sing without sound, I travel in silence, but leave echoes around. What am I?" The sphinx whispered in his ear, before taking a whiff of his scent. She purred under her breath as she savored it.

"You smell delicious, you know that? Like... Blood and warmth and just a hint of mint." She smirked before giving him a quick lick. "I might just eat you up anyway, if you dilly-dally like this." she teased him, as she kept pacing around him. Cyrus did not wipe his face or respond to her threats and teases, that's what she wanted him to do, to cower and shake in front of her, too scared to answer the riddle.

It should be easy. The answer is "light," isn't it? It dances, it makes no sound, it leaves as when it goes out. He shivered as the sphinx blew gently in his ear. "What are you thinking about, hot stuff? Surely, you must have some answer by now, right? Maybe it's a liquid?" She prodded him, putting her paws on his shoulders, resting her weight on him.

Cyrus was perhaps one of the greatest minds of this age, but he was neither an athlete nor a warrior. He instantly was pushed down onto the ground with the sphinx resting her paws on his shoulder.

Her golden eyes shined with delight; her perky breasts held high. Were her bare nipples already excited? "Like, what you see? Maybe you are thinking of an answer that is definitely wrong just for the privilege of filling my belly?" She laughed haughtily. She reminded him of death in a way, except the sphinx was warm and full of life. Maybe the answer was something else. Was it a liquid? Surely, she wouldn't try to lead him onto the correct train of thought. As he was thinking this, the sphinx nuzzled up against his throat, opening up his robes, licking him, grazing his skin, cooing while doing so. Cyrus felt the sphinx's nipples brush against his and he could barely concentrate. But he must focus, he knew that the sphinx probably wanted to play with him like a cat wanted to play with a bird. Her semi-sexual advances were just to distract him from the horror that would await him if he was wrong.

Coin Flip: Tails!

"It's light!" Says Cyrus. The sphinx looked a little surprised. "It's light, isn't it? Now give me the book and I will be on my way."

The sphinx smirked. "You think light sings?" She asked a little incredulously. "I thought you were smart." She looked a little disappointed with him, but there was a dark satisfaction within her as well, now that she could do what she was going to do anyway.

"You know, a lot of heroes come here, blessed by the gods, strong, brave, but you... You're just... A monk who reads books, you know... A horny monk who reads books, you think I can't tell?" The sphinx noted as she pressed her hind quarters further down on his hard cock. He couldn't help himself, the teasing, the licking, the feeling of her breasts against his chest!

"You're really someone who never should have been chosen at all. I agree with the gods that the shadow king must be dealt with, but honestly you are so pathetic, maybe I should just eat you whole, you know? Free up some space for the gods to pick someone else?" She said, cruelly mocking him. "Can't even push a woman off of him, can't even resist getting hard as he's about to get eaten." Cyrus felt a velvety wetness descend and wrap around his cock, when the sphinx shifted further. "You're lucky you're so cute. I just want to gobble you all up, but also I want to keep you." She whispered, as she slowly started to move on top of him. Cyrus could barely resist as he started bucking up to meet her rising hips. "Look how pathetically you're squirming under me; I might just fall in love with you like this." The sphinx delighted at his desperate thrusts.

The sphinx's cruel taunts and deep voice, sweet and thick like honey, but dark like the sea, spurred him on. He wanted to make her feel good, he wanted to serve her. He tried to pick up the pace when suddenly she dropped her entire body on top of him and bit down hard on his throat, not breaking the skin but pressing down hard enough for him to start choking. She could rip out his throat whenever she wanted to. His vision started swimming, but for some reason he kept getting harder. About to pass out, without any stimulation or movement from her hips or her pussy he came inside her.

Upon feeling him cum inside, the sphinx let go of his throat. "You insolent slut," she chastised him with a smirk. "Who told you to cum? I was about to kill you, and you just come like that? Who gave you permission?" She slowly licked his face and his chest. The deep bruises on his neck ached sweetly and tenderly. He still was inside the sphinx. Was this love? "It's honestly very endearing that you're still hard even now, so I'll forgive you for coming inside me like that. Now, don't move unless I say so, okay?" The sphinx admonished him as she started moving her hips on top of him, needy and hungry like an animal. She bit him all over, marking his body in purple and black half-moons.

"Touch me, you desperate cutie." The sphinx moaned in the throes of ecstasy. That's all he needed to hear. Cyrus's hands started roaming over her flat stomach, tight with predatory feline muscles, and cupping her shapely breasts and finally resting on her face, caressing her cheeks, feeling the weight of her head press down into his hands as she leans into his gentle touch, she suckled sweetly on his finger. The sound of their coupling filling the room, the smell of sex and sweat wafting from where they were connected, when suddenly the sphinx slammed her hips down and rubbed up against Cyrus' pelvis, riding out the throes of her orgasm she chomped down hard. Her teeth cut through Cyrus' finger while Cyrus came deep inside the sphinx. As he was feeling the ecstasy of orgasm, the horror of part of him literally being devoured dawned on him. He clutched his bloody, wounded hand with tears streaming down his face, more from shock than pain, but as he saw the blood spurt, he felt the pain and nausea rise within, as his orgasm subsided.

The sphinx sensuously gyrated on top of Cyrus, enjoying the snack she received from her prey, enjoying their intimacy in this moment. She opened her eyes, her golden irises capturing Cyrus' gaze. "I didn't say I was done, I believe." Her eyes seemed to almost vibrate with power when she spoke: "Feed me more." Crying, shaking, unable to stop himself he reached out to her face once more. She lapped at the blood coming from his injury. "You taste as sweet as you fuck, you know that? I will relish every last piece of you." She complimented him as she liked his bloody knuckle and started suckling on his middle finger. Cyrus tried to tear away his hand, but the piercing gaze held him, like he was a puppet on strings. "Please... No more... I am sorry, let me go." He mouthed almost breathlessly.

"Budh you'we sho tashty!" The sphinx exclaimed with his finger in her mouth. Cyrus willed every muscle in his arm to pull away, to crawl away from here, live, survive. "Maybe ifh you bheg me?" The sphinx crooned with Cyrus' finger in her mouth, her teeth already teasing the unfortunate end of his second finger. "Please, let me go, I beg you, I am sorry, you're right, I'm no one, I'm just not cut out to be a hero. I can't do anything, I just want to live, I just wanted to know as much of this world as I could before I had to leave, I know I don't fit, I beg you to let me go home." Cyrus sobbed and begged between tears, his words almost becoming an incomprehensible garble from the fear he felt. The sphinx paused a little bit, looking at him with her golden eyes, holding him down with her body and her presence. "You're sho cute..." She mouthed around his finger, smiling gently at him. Then, her expression suddenly turned into a sinister smile as she tore off his finger. Writhing underneath her in agony and horror, Cyrus clutched his bloody hand. The sphinx closing her eyes in delight as the slender finger slid down her gullet.

Relishing the taste of him, the sphinx got off of Cyrus, licking her lips. "It breaks my heart, but I shall perhaps finish you at a later time." She says, her voice dark and sadistic. Cyrus crawling away from the large, frightening predator, beautiful and monstrous. "Maybe I will let you get a second attempt at the riddle, if you're nice to me when you come back." The sphinx said while she laid down to rest, having enjoyed her delicacy and a good fuck. By this time Cyrus got up and started running, panting, desperately trying to get away, his head filled with her haughty laughter.

"And bring me a gift when you come back!" She shouted after him. He probably couldn't hear her at this point. "That's right... When you come back... It's not a matter of if... You want to be eaten." The sphinx whispered to herself as she closed her eyes, enjoying a nap in this labyrinth.

Skaeya grins a toothy grin , admiring the ingenuity of the fishmen. Finding an avenue of attack like this where she is cut off from her allies is what a skilled hunter would do. She was not concerned however. Were the plump princess, her lap dog and the sick book worm going to be able to do anything useful? Skaeya laughed out loud at that thought and her steel axe flashed in wide arcs as she dashed through the ranks of the fishmen easily dispatching them.

This Shadow King must really be out of his depth here, if he thought this would have a chance at stopping her. She was already thinking about how she could brag to her "allies" about her recent solo victory when suddenly her foot couldn't reach the ground beneath the surface anymore. In a panicked moment she is kicking away at the deep darkness underneath, which easily swallowed every step and every flail.

She tries to get her bearings and look at the coast which seems ridiculously far away, a small stripe on the horizon. She realises she had gone too far chasing her prey and without ground to stand on she could not build the momentum needed to keep killing. She glances around and sees the fishmen are intimidated by her, but have her surrounded. They also started to notice that her blinding speed and dangerous metal murder tool have stopped. They eagerly swim around her and throw out their nets. Underwater they would be able to do whatever they wanted with her.

Skaeya felt the nets entangle her arms and legs and felt herself being pulled down in the water. She swiped around but couldn't reach them and the seaweed-lined nets proved difficult to cut. She could feel her vision darken as she was dragged deeper and she started to run out of breath. The fishmen encircled her, their prey clearly weak and struggling to stay conscious. They palmed her sizable ass under her fur skirt and worshipped her hard abs and perky breasts which moved pleasantly along with the current, she could feel their sharp teeth graze her skin. A feeling that was... Not too unpleasant? She had to get out of here.

"I can't... die like this..." Skaeya thought, but she couldn't get any momentum going and she was sure she would be lights out soon. She felt their hard tube-like shafts poking her from all sides, but she couldn't really see them this deep under water. One of the fishmen grabbed her by the hair and pressed their mouth to her full lips. Her lungs greedily drank the oxygen the creature breathed into her. Snapping back into consciousness more sharply, she realised this is the game they were going to play with her.

They would grope and use her body and she wouldn't be able to resist because she needed them for oxygen. They slowly started stripping and disarming her, giving her a deep oxygenated kiss before she would lose consciousness. Then they would push her back into the middle of them where they started molesting her and poking her with their strange cocks, trying to find her entrance, apparently not having the best idea of human anatomy. She was starting to lose count of how often she had been kissed and not even mind the taste of their salty tongues by the time one of them had positioned behind her, hovering their fish dick near her ass, she could feel the tip poking inside. In her panic she swiped at the creature which could easily evade her.

In this movement, she suddenly felt hard stone under her feet. She had no idea how deep she was, but this was all she needed. Pulling her self to all fours on the rocks, she shot away, using her arms and legs to "climb" rapidly across the surface. Using the hard surface for leverage she could shoot herself quickly to where she thought the shore was. Her lungs were bursting with stabbing pain and her arms and legs were starting to tire out. She bit down hard in an effort not to breath in any water.

Like a bat out of hell, she breached the surface onto the beach. As naked as the day she was born, she sank to her hands and knees and started coughing water on the shore. She fought back tears of humiliation and gratefully took deep breaths and tried to rest her burning muscles.

"Um... Lady Skaeya, are you all right?" Asked a voice as sweet as it was kind. She looked up. Of course it was the princess and her companion. She could see the sick boy a little further away from them. He didn't like to run.

"Please, Skaeya, take this." Said princess Seraphina as she took off her crimson travelling cloak with gold inlay. "I know you er... Are very proud of your body, but I think you would be more comfortable like this." She smiled at the fierce warrior as she draped the clock across Skaeya's shoulders. Her smile was so genuine, Skaeya couldn't even bring herself to think anything mean about her for that moment. She gratefully accepted the cloak. "Thank you, princess Cupcake." Skaeya smiled back. Seraphina immediately went for a hug. For a moment, Skaeya enjoyed the sweet perfume and the soft and warm body holding her.

Syr Severina rolled her eyes at Serry being so overly affectionate. "You did great work, Skaeya. By my count that is several dozen of them dead on the shore. I am sure you finished the job underwater? Impressive." She commented drily.

Count Silesius walked through the halls of the castle in a way that most would call "petulantly" or maybe would even be described as "More like stomping through the halls," but they would say this about him well out of ear shot, for he had a reputation of being cruel. He was muttering to himself, because once again the king had denied his requests. Sigismund had denied the count a petition to lower taxes on his domains, a petition to marry one of his daughters, a petition to be granted a legal land claim and the king even denied him a petition to raise more petitions. Sigismund "the Wise" they were already calling him in his life time. What a sick joke.

"Surely, there's no need to hoard all his daughters to himself." He grumbled and with this dark mood hanging over him, he did not care to pay attention to the people around him or walk normally when suddenly he bumped into some waif in the hall way. The waif was particularly well dressed, her dress had deep reds, white frills and golden accents and her... crown fell to the floor. Oh god, he knocked one of the royal heirs flat on the ground. He quickly grabbed whichever princess he just knocked down by the shoulders and profusely apologised.

"My apologies, madam, I did not see you there, I was lost in thought," Silesius started and stopped because he looked into the famous, emerald-green eyes of princess Seraphina, third in line to the throne. He looked her over to see if she was okay, tearing his gaze away from her beautiful, expressive eyes only for his gaze to be arrested by the impressive cleavage the princess boasted. She seemed to be breathing at least, with the way her chest seemed to move up and down.

"I am fine, er, count... Silesius, was it?" The princess asked with a genuine smile. Her voice was like an angel tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It was like the sunshine drying your clothes after a heavy rain. Both of those things were romantic feelings the count had never felt in his life before.

"Oh yes, thank you for your concern, princess, everything is fine with me and I am glad to see your father is good and well." The count said, masking his disdain for the monarch expertly. An idea crept into his head. "But I must go now, my carriage is waiting to take me to Rodelion."

"Oh, you are going to Rodelion, too? I am going to visit my dear friend, Severina, and will be headed there shortly." The princess said, her smile almost gaining a radiant quality at the mention of her friend.

"What a wonderful coincidence," lied the cruel count. "Perhaps we should travel together? My carriage could move a small family. Oh, you are friends with Syr Severina? I will have you know, I have worked with her on several occasions, perhaps we can swap stories."

The princess seemed delighted. "I would love that, Count Silesius. If you are a friend of Severina, I can think of no better chaperone on my journey." There was something absolutely intoxicating and infectious about the Princess's emotions, the Count realised. He felt like he should kneel for her, which he did. The princess offered her hand to him and the count gently kissed her ring. This was very unnatural behaviour for him and it worried him.

The journey to Rodelion from the royal capital is fairly brief, but also miserable, the roads wear out easily due to bad weather and the long coastline is both hilly and prone to rain. They decided to stay the night in an inn. The princess asked if they had any rooms available and the innkeeper absolutely refused to take her money in exchange for the biggest rooms that he would keep empty especially for her, whether she accepted it or not. The count would think the inn keeper was a spineless kiss-ass hoping for a royal boon, except he had just spent the entire day discussing 14th century kobold poetry with her, so he knew that this was just the effect she had on people. The longer you talked to her, the more you wanted to please her.

He figured that he better try his luck today, before he chickened out. He brought his own fortified ale from the dwarven mountains on this trip. He liked it, but also people from the south heavily underestimated its strength and he suspected Seraphina was a featherweight. As Seraphina returned to dine with him, he poured her a tall glass. "Now, listen close, Seraphina, I am about to tell you all about that time me and Syr Severina went on a manhunt to find Ernest, the Elusive Earl."

"And that is how Darren, the Disgraceful Duke, had been exposed by me and because of his crimes he was banished from the realm." Silesius declared triumphantly as he slammed his cup on the table. He looked across the table at his mark. Seraphina seemed a bit slow and confused. "Right and... Erm..." She started. "That was a wonderful... Story of friendship and bravery." She concluded, a far cry from the deep literary analyst she was on the carriage ride here. Perfect.

"My lady, you should retire to bed I think. I suspect you have no head for this dwarven brew." The count commented as she gently guided her out of the chair and up to her room. He gently laid her on the bed, admiring his prize. Marveling at her generous bust almost spilling out of her corset, the way her luscious lips rested slightly parted, the way he could peek at her creamy thighs as she lay down. His mind rapidly started filling with vivid images of him fucking her every which way, painting her inside and out.

She probably wouldn't even remember anything that happens tonight, the count thought to himself as he got on the bed with her. He laid his hands on the fastenings of her corset.

"Oh, my count, could you help me get out of this?" She practically moaned. "I already told my maids to go to bed without me, so it would be a great help if you assisted me." She added a little unsexily. The count did as he was told however and almost tore the corset off her. The princess quickly covered her chest and blushed.

"Oh, you rakish rogue, were you hoping to stay in my room with me, after you helped me?" She said, surprised.

Surely she wanted this as well, the count thought as he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. He froze for a second admiring her pale breast heaving, he wanted to free his throbbing cock and start fucking those glorious tits right away. He could see her nipples were innies, shy and tucked away. He would love nothing more to tease them to come out to play. He was sure he could fuck her all day and all night. Her body looked like a playground for the perverse nobleman, but something gave him pause. As he looked at her blushing face, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"I am sorry, my dear chivalrous count," She said with pain in her voice that sank his heart to the very depths of the earth. "I did not know you felt this way about me, but I already love another. I will keep you in my heart, but we cannot be together like this."

Upon hearing this, the count immediately released her. Seraphine grabbed her bed spread and pulled it up to her neck.

"I apologise, princess Seraphina, I don't know what came over me." The count said, in a way that didn't make any sense to him whatsoever. He should have been ravishing her body as soon as they entered the room, forcing his child on her and manipulating her into marrying him. Her angelic voice should be screaming out his name as he claimed her. With tears of regret and shame and confusion, the count blew a chaste kiss at the princess and left.

The very next day the princess woke up and found a letter under her door. The letter stated that the count is terribly sorry for the misunderstanding and wishes to return home to contemplate his actions. His staff and carriage will take her to Rodelion and make sure she is safe with Syr Severina before leaving her. Appended to the letter was a five page essay the count had written on 15th century kobold poetry and the schism between Late Chivalrous style and early Mannerist style, which the princess could read on her way to the capital. If she ever dared to forgive the beastly manners he showed last night, he would eagerly wait for a response to discuss this deep and multi-faceted topic.

She was scheduled to meet the duke of Rodelion as soon as soon as she arrived as the first Chosen of the gods. For this reason, Seraphina had encouraged her to not go in full armor and instead wear the silk, blue coat she had bought for her on her birthday, along with the emerald green shirt and white scarf ensemble. Severina rolled her eyes at this, but she couldn't resist seeing the delight in her childhood friend's face when she obliged her. After a tearful goodbye ("It's only a few days, Serry!") She had gone on her way.

Severina was writing in her notebook, but her thoughts kept drifting back towards Seraphina and the way she had kissed her friend on the cheek. Severina still felt pleasantly warm inside at the memory, when the carriage abruptly stopped. Severina climbed out quickly when she saw the driver had his hands up with several ruffians having them surrounded, aiming their crossbows and having their swords ready.

"Oooh, we didn't expect a pretty lady to come bearing gifts." A portly man with an eye patch said. He was eying the emerald necklace peeking out from under Severina's scarf as well as the two rings she wore. One was a ring with the sigil of her noble house and the other was a friendship ring she had received from Seraphina. "If you're really sweet to us, dear, we'll let you and this poor bastard go with one horse and maybe one shirt." He chuckled and licked his lips.

Severina felt a little impatient. She took out her pocket watch, much to the delight of the greedy bandits who were astonished at how much casual wealth this random lady was carrying on her. Between the jewelry, the clothes and the watch, who knows how many riches she was hiding inside that carriage. She clucked her tongue when she realized their journey would be delayed by at least fifteen minutes and that is if she didn't have to clear out the bandit's bodies from the road after having slain them. She drew her sword and decided she wanted to make this quick. Before she had set even one step towards the bandits, she felt the tip of a crossbow bolt bend and bounce off of her chest, tearing her coat. "You'll pay for that." Severina said out loud, to everyone in the vicinity really. "That was a gift from her majesty."

Stunned but not demoralised, a few of the bandits charged her. She might be wearing armor underneath her clothes, but she was still just one woman! Severina, who was spoiled due to her power, rarely even blocked nowadays, relying on her body to break or bend her opponent's weapons. She grabbed one cutlass, and it shattered between her fingers. She took another bandit by the wrist and crushed it between her fingers. In the meantime, bolts struck her without effect and swords broke on her body.

The bandits started to disperse, as they began to realize they had no chance of harming this woman. As she was hoping she could just intimidate them into running away, she opened her mouth to order them to flee when suddenly a sweet tasting rag was pushed into her mouth from behind. Their leader somehow managed to sneak behind her. She started feeling woozy, this was some kind of narcotic or poison.

(I swear, I am not manipulating anything here.)

A little wobbly on her feet she spat out the rag and backhanded the bandit captain, shattering his jaw and nose. Seeing her in a moment of weakness, some of the bandits tried to take her on with renewed courage. Severina was slow, and her fencing was miles behind, but she managed to brute force her way through. At the end, about a dozen bandits lay strewn across the road, either dead or half-dead, the rest ran away. Their leader, spitting bloody teeth, managed to crawl out of sight, swearing bitter revenge.

The many sword strokes she endured had reduced her outfit to tatters, barely managing to cover her breasts. This somehow made it even more scandalous to look at her than if she had been naked. She got back in the carriage and resumed her journey to Rodelion, making a slight detour to her personal quarters first. Among the upper echelons of society, a foul rumor started to spread that Severina was an exhibitionist pervert who felt too good to have an audience with the duke, due to her being late and some of the staff claiming she had left the carriage naked.

Skaeya was a little sweaty, but she enjoyed the exercise, the soreness in her muscles after a good workout, the heady smell of blood in the air from taking down impressive prey as she rested near the body of a large boar that had clearly been driven mad and decided to wander the roads to terrorize random travelers. It was a great battle that she had won decisively with only her bare hands.

On his knees in front of her was some man with more money than sense babbling the strange southern language. Skaeya had spoken to many southerners in her life and could converse with them easy enough, but this one had such a strange lisp and accent that she had a lot of difficulty understanding him. She figured he was grateful to her for incidentally saving his life and that his name was Shileshius and if she went to his house, he would reward her or something. Skaeya wasn't particularly fond of this man, who might have been pleasing to look at, if he hadn't indulged in whatever decadent lifestyle he took part in as a southern nobleman.

"Save it, go to your house, tell everyone Skaeya Wolfblooded has come, tell them I slaid this creature." She said, mentally already considering how she was going to grill the pig and preserve the meat for the rest of the journey.

"At least take my noble steed as a sign of thanks, violent stranger." The man almost begged. He seemed afraid. This wasn't the first time she encountered people afraid of her for seemingly no reason. She was a blood-soaked hero, not some bandit. Is he stupid for not getting that? She didn't particularly care, however. "I shall take your animal as a gift. Now, leave." She commanded. The rich man seemed grateful hearing those words and ran away.

She decided to check her gift horse. It seemed like a proud beast, despite its slender legs and shorter frame compared to most other horses she'd seen before. It also seemed to have a decadent and luxurious air about it with its gold bit and gem-studded saddle. She awkwardly took off the animal's bit and bridle and let her divine gift of animal speech do the talking. "My name is Skaeya, I am now your new mistress." She announced. She never owned an animal before, so she thought she should probably make things clear from the get-go.

"The wretched creature can speak, my gods. I had been convinced thou wouldst kill my master and devour me whole." The horse spoke to her with an aristocratic tone and in the southern tongue. This honestly shook Skaeya a little. Every animal she conversed with thus far spoke like she did. She had just assumed the animals were translated by the god of the hunt to a language she would understand. She muttered: "Uh... Well..."

"Thou hast the language of a common broodmare, even. By what sheer audacity darest thee claim mastery over me!" The steed bristled at Skaeya. Skaeya quickly recovered, barely understanding what the horse said, but understanding he is challenging her for dominance. "Now listen here, you skinny-legged bastard!" Skaeya interrupted, "I am Skaeya Wolfsblood and no animal has the right to disobey me!"

Somehow, the horse smirked at her. "Thou not only speaketh like a broodmare, thou hath the smell of one."

Coin flip: Tails Horse!

Skaeya felt a little dizzy, her head in a fog, unsure what happened, but she felt a great weight on top of her and something was filling her special place in a way that she had never felt before. She let out a keening moan as she felt a great length slowly pull out of her, leaving behind an emptiness she didn't know she had. She had issues seeing what was going on, as she was face down, compressed, unable to move her arms, her hair in front of her eyes. "Uh, uh, wha- OOOOO" She cried out as she felt the length fill her back up, immediately followed by a meaty thwack as she felt the heavy weight on her back slap against her firm but curvy butt. She tried to reconstruct the series of events that lead to this.

Judging from what she could see and see and feel, she was folded over a tree trunk. She could see the horse's front legs to her left and right and things started to fall into place. As she slowly started to realize what was happening, she felt herself get stretched out deep in her core. Almost as if she was going to be split apart, her breath was driven out of her. She tried to protest or say something, but every time she managed to take a breath it was immediately slammed out of her by a foot length of horse cock insistently battering away at the entrance of her womb like an invading army storming a castle.

She tried to remember the events. The horse had seemingly acquiesced to her demands, after an intense discussion, butting heads with her, brushing against her flank, she remembered the horse's cock "accidentally brushing" against her a few times, staining her skin and fur attire with generous dollops of precum. She remembered riding the horse for a bit and then... Darkness... She fell?

It was difficult to keep her focus as the stallion on top of her kept her pinned and kept driving his dick deep inside her at a ruthless pace. But this cock-filled torment she was filled with started to feel strange. She felt warm and she almost felt this gentle sweetness in the recurring pain that filled her which caused her to start moaning. She tried not to let out her voice by biting down on her lips, but every breath punched out of her by the unreasonable horse dick came out sluttier and sluttier. The horse on top of her snorted. "Finally awake, my stupid broodmare? Just in time to receive a filly." The stallion on top of her grunted as it was rutting in her bruised and battered pussy, accommodating and stretching around the horse cock. "Uh - uh - uh... Uhhhhh..." Grunted Skaeya eloquently in response, as she felt her own orgasm approach, unwanted, yet inevitable.

Unable to do anything, unable to move, unable to resist, unable to even call out for help with the heavy stalling mounted on top of her and rutting away, Skaeya resigned herself to cumming. She choked back tears of humiliation and defeat as wave after wave of orgasm washed over her, her pussy happily devouring the horse cock that was destroying her insides, the stallion came too, pouring his seed into her insides until it spilled out. As the horse slipped out of her and let her be for a minute, Skaeya felt unable to move, the severity of her humiliation and the repeated orgasms having sapped all her strength.

"You are a nice broodmare. I shall lay claim to you and keep you as mine." The horse declared next to her. "As long as my name is Beucephalus."

Skaeya barely managing to hold onto her sanity only managed to moan and nod as she felt thick, pearly seed spill out of her. The laws of the wild and the hunt were on his side. He captured her. She was his.

Skaeya grins a toothy grin , admiring the ingenuity of the fishmen. Finding an avenue of attack like this where she is cut off from her allies is what a skilled hunter would do. She was not concerned however. Were the plump princess, her lap dog and the sick book worm going to be able to do anything useful? Skaeya laughed out loud at that thought and her steel axe flashed in wide arcs as she dashed through the ranks of the fishmen easily dispatching them.

This Shadow King must really be out of his depth here, if he thought this would have a chance at stopping her. She was already thinking about how she could brag to her "allies" about her recent solo victory when suddenly her foot couldn't reach the ground beneath the surface anymore. In a panicked moment she is kicking away at the deep darkness underneath, which easily swallowed every step and every flail.

She tries to get her bearings and look at the coast which seems ridiculously far away, a small stripe on the horizon. She realises she had gone too far chasing her prey and without ground to stand on she could not build the momentum needed to keep killing. She glances around and sees the fishmen are intimidated by her, but have her surrounded. They also started to notice that her blinding speed and dangerous metal murder tool have stopped. They eagerly swim around her and throw out their nets. Underwater they would be able to do whatever they wanted with her.

Skaeya felt the nets entangle her arms and legs and felt herself being pulled down in the water. She swiped around but couldn't reach them and the seaweed-lined nets proved difficult to cut. She could feel her vision darken as she was dragged deeper and she started to run out of breath. The fishmen encircled her, their prey clearly weak and struggling to stay conscious. They palmed her sizable ass under her fur skirt and worshipped her hard abs and perky breasts which moved pleasantly along with the current, she could feel their sharp teeth graze her skin. A feeling that was... Not too unpleasant? She had to get out of here.

"I can't... die like this..." Skaeya thought, but she couldn't get any momentum going and she was sure she would be lights out soon. She felt their hard tube-like shafts poking her from all sides, but she couldn't really see them this deep under water. One of the fishmen grabbed her by the hair and pressed their mouth to her full lips. Her lungs greedily drank the oxygen the creature breathed into her. Snapping back into consciousness more sharply, she realised this is the game they were going to play with her.

They would grope and use her body and she wouldn't be able to resist because she needed them for oxygen. They slowly started stripping and disarming her, giving her a deep oxygenated kiss before she would lose consciousness. Then they would push her back into the middle of them where they started molesting her and poking her with their strange cocks, trying to find her entrance, apparently not having the best idea of human anatomy. She was starting to lose count of how often she had been kissed and not even mind the taste of their salty tongues by the time one of them had positioned behind her, hovering their fish dick near her ass, she could feel the tip poking inside. In her panic she swiped at the creature which could easily evade her.

In this movement, she suddenly felt hard stone under her feet. She had no idea how deep she was, but this was all she needed. Pulling her self to all fours on the rocks, she shot away, using her arms and legs to "climb" rapidly across the surface. Using the hard surface for leverage she could shoot herself quickly to where she thought the shore was. Her lungs were bursting with stabbing pain and her arms and legs were starting to tire out. She bit down hard in an effort not to breath in any water.

Like a bat out of hell, she breached the surface onto the beach. As naked as the day she was born, she sank to her hands and knees and started coughing water on the shore. She fought back tears of humiliation and gratefully took deep breaths and tried to rest her burning muscles.

"Um... Lady Skaeya, are you all right?" Asked a voice as sweet as it was kind. She looked up. Of course it was the princess and her companion. She could see the sick boy a little further away from them. He didn't like to run.

"Please, Skaeya, take this." Said princess Seraphina as she took off her crimson travelling cloak with gold inlay. "I know you er... Are very proud of your body, but I think you would be more comfortable like this." She smiled at the fierce warrior as she draped the clock across Skaeya's shoulders. Her smile was so genuine, Skaeya couldn't even bring herself to think anything mean about her for that moment. She gratefully accepted the cloak. "Thank you, princess Cupcake." Skaeya smiled back. Seraphina immediately went for a hug. For a moment, Skaeya enjoyed the sweet perfume and the soft and warm body holding her.

Syr Severina rolled her eyes at Serry being so overly affectionate. "You did great work, Skaeya. By my count that is several dozen of them dead on the shore. I am sure you finished the job underwater? Impressive." She commented drily.

Count Silesius walked through the halls of the castle in a way that most would call "petulantly" or maybe would even be described as "More like stomping through the halls," but they would say this about him well out of ear shot, for he had a reputation of being cruel. He was muttering to himself, because once again the king had denied his requests. Sigismund had denied the count a petition to lower taxes on his domains, a petition to marry one of his daughters, a petition to be granted a legal land claim and the king even denied him a petition to raise more petitions. Sigismund "the Wise" they were already calling him in his life time. What a sick joke.

"Surely, there's no need to hoard all his daughters to himself." He grumbled and with this dark mood hanging over him, he did not care to pay attention to the people around him or walk normally when suddenly he bumped into some waif in the hall way. The waif was particularly well dressed, her dress had deep reds, white frills and golden accents and her... crown fell to the floor. Oh god, he knocked one of the royal heirs flat on the ground. He quickly grabbed whichever princess he just knocked down by the shoulders and profusely apologised.

"My apologies, madam, I did not see you there, I was lost in thought," Silesius started and stopped because he looked into the famous, emerald-green eyes of princess Seraphina, third in line to the throne. He looked her over to see if she was okay, tearing his gaze away from her beautiful, expressive eyes only for his gaze to be arrested by the impressive cleavage the princess boasted. She seemed to be breathing at least, with the way her chest seemed to move up and down.

"I am fine, er, count... Silesius, was it?" The princess asked with a genuine smile. Her voice was like an angel tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It was like the sunshine drying your clothes after a heavy rain. Both of those things were romantic feelings the count had never felt in his life before.

"Oh yes, thank you for your concern, princess, everything is fine with me and I am glad to see your father is good and well." The count said, masking his disdain for the monarch expertly. An idea crept into his head. "But I must go now, my carriage is waiting to take me to Rodelion."

"Oh, you are going to Rodelion, too? I am going to visit my dear friend, Severina, and will be headed there shortly." The princess said, her smile almost gaining a radiant quality at the mention of her friend.

"What a wonderful coincidence," lied the cruel count. "Perhaps we should travel together? My carriage could move a small family. Oh, you are friends with Syr Severina? I will have you know, I have worked with her on several occasions, perhaps we can swap stories."

The princess seemed delighted. "I would love that, Count Silesius. If you are a friend of Severina, I can think of no better chaperone on my journey." There was something absolutely intoxicating and infectious about the Princess's emotions, the Count realised. He felt like he should kneel for her, which he did. The princess offered her hand to him and the count gently kissed her ring. This was very unnatural behaviour for him and it worried him.

The journey to Rodelion from the royal capital is fairly brief, but also miserable, the roads wear out easily due to bad weather and the long coastline is both hilly and prone to rain. They decided to stay the night in an inn. The princess asked if they had any rooms available and the innkeeper absolutely refused to take her money in exchange for the biggest rooms that he would keep empty especially for her, whether she accepted it or not. The count would think the inn keeper was a spineless kiss-ass hoping for a royal boon, except he had just spent the entire day discussing 14th century kobold poetry with her, so he knew that this was just the effect she had on people. The longer you talked to her, the more you wanted to please her.

He figured that he better try his luck today, before he chickened out. He brought his own fortified ale from the dwarven mountains on this trip. He liked it, but also people from the south heavily underestimated its strength and he suspected Seraphina was a featherweight. As Seraphina returned to dine with him, he poured her a tall glass. "Now, listen close, Seraphina, I am about to tell you all about that time me and Syr Severina went on a manhunt to find Ernest, the Elusive Earl."

"And that is how Darren, the Disgraceful Duke, had been exposed by me and because of his crimes he was banished from the realm." Silesius declared triumphantly as he slammed his cup on the table. He looked across the table at his mark. Seraphina seemed a bit slow and confused. "Right and... Erm..." She started. "That was a wonderful... Story of friendship and bravery." She concluded, a far cry from the deep literary analyst she was on the carriage ride here. Perfect.

"My lady, you should retire to bed I think. I suspect you have no head for this dwarven brew." The count commented as she gently guided her out of the chair and up to her room. He gently laid her on the bed, admiring his prize. Marveling at her generous bust almost spilling out of her corset, the way her luscious lips rested slightly parted, the way he could peek at her creamy thighs as she lay down. His mind rapidly started filling with vivid images of him fucking her every which way, painting her inside and out.

She probably wouldn't even remember anything that happens tonight, the count thought to himself as he got on the bed with her. He laid his hands on the fastenings of her corset.

"Oh, my count, could you help me get out of this?" She practically moaned. "I already told my maids to go to bed without me, so it would be a great help if you assisted me." She added a little unsexily. The count did as he was told however and almost tore the corset off her. The princess quickly covered her chest and blushed.

"Oh, you rakish rogue, were you hoping to stay in my room with me, after you helped me?" She said, surprised.

Surely she wanted this as well, the count thought as he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. He froze for a second admiring her pale breast heaving, he wanted to free his throbbing cock and start fucking those glorious tits right away. He could see her nipples were innies, shy and tucked away. He would love nothing more to tease them to come out to play. He was sure he could fuck her all day and all night. Her body looked like a playground for the perverse nobleman, but something gave him pause. As he looked at her blushing face, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"I am sorry, my dear chivalrous count," She said with pain in her voice that sank his heart to the very depths of the earth. "I did not know you felt this way about me, but I already love another. I will keep you in my heart, but we cannot be together like this."

Upon hearing this, the count immediately released her. Seraphine grabbed her bed spread and pulled it up to her neck.

"I apologise, princess Seraphina, I don't know what came over me." The count said, in a way that didn't make any sense to him whatsoever. He should have been ravishing her body as soon as they entered the room, forcing his child on her and manipulating her into marrying him. Her angelic voice should be screaming out his name as he claimed her. With tears of regret and shame and confusion, the count blew a chaste kiss at the princess and left.

The very next day the princess woke up and found a letter under her door. The letter stated that the count is terribly sorry for the misunderstanding and wishes to return home to contemplate his actions. His staff and carriage will take her to Rodelion and make sure she is safe with Syr Severina before leaving her. Appended to the letter was a five page essay the count had written on 15th century kobold poetry and the schism between Late Chivalrous style and early Mannerist style, which the princess could read on her way to the capital. If she ever dared to forgive the beastly manners he showed last night, he would eagerly wait for a response to discuss this deep and multi-faceted topic.

She was scheduled to meet the duke of Rodelion as soon as soon as she arrived as the first Chosen of the gods. For this reason, Seraphina had encouraged her to not go in full armor and instead wear the silk, blue coat she had bought for her on her birthday, along with the emerald green shirt and white scarf ensemble. Severina rolled her eyes at this, but she couldn't resist seeing the delight in her childhood friend's face when she obliged her. After a tearful goodbye ("It's only a few days, Serry!") She had gone on her way.

Severina was writing in her notebook, but her thoughts kept drifting back towards Seraphina and the way she had kissed her friend on the cheek. Severina still felt pleasantly warm inside at the memory, when the carriage abruptly stopped. Severina climbed out quickly when she saw the driver had his hands up with several ruffians having them surrounded, aiming their crossbows and having their swords ready.

"Oooh, we didn't expect a pretty lady to come bearing gifts." A portly man with an eye patch said. He was eying the emerald necklace peeking out from under Severina's scarf as well as the two rings she wore. One was a ring with the sigil of her noble house and the other was a friendship ring she had received from Seraphina. "If you're really sweet to us, dear, we'll let you and this poor bastard go with one horse and maybe one shirt." He chuckled and licked his lips.

Severina felt a little impatient. She took out her pocket watch, much to the delight of the greedy bandits who were astonished at how much casual wealth this random lady was carrying on her. Between the jewelry, the clothes and the watch, who knows how many riches she was hiding inside that carriage. She clucked her tongue when she realized their journey would be delayed by at least fifteen minutes and that is if she didn't have to clear out the bandit's bodies from the road after having slain them. She drew her sword and decided she wanted to make this quick. Before she had set even one step towards the bandits, she felt the tip of a crossbow bolt bend and bounce off of her chest, tearing her coat. "You'll pay for that." Severina said out loud, to everyone in the vicinity really. "That was a gift from her majesty."

Stunned but not demoralised, a few of the bandits charged her. She might be wearing armor underneath her clothes, but she was still just one woman! Severina, who was spoiled due to her power, rarely even blocked nowadays, relying on her body to break or bend her opponent's weapons. She grabbed one cutlass, and it shattered between her fingers. She took another bandit by the wrist and crushed it between her fingers. In the meantime, bolts struck her without effect and swords broke on her body.

The bandits started to disperse, as they began to realize they had no chance of harming this woman. As she was hoping she could just intimidate them into running away, she opened her mouth to order them to flee when suddenly a sweet tasting rag was pushed into her mouth from behind. Their leader somehow managed to sneak behind her. She started feeling woozy, this was some kind of narcotic or poison.

(I swear, I am not manipulating anything here.)

A little wobbly on her feet she spat out the rag and backhanded the bandit captain, shattering his jaw and nose. Seeing her in a moment of weakness, some of the bandits tried to take her on with renewed courage. Severina was slow, and her fencing was miles behind, but she managed to brute force her way through. At the end, about a dozen bandits lay strewn across the road, either dead or half-dead, the rest ran away. Their leader, spitting bloody teeth, managed to crawl out of sight, swearing bitter revenge.

The many sword strokes she endured had reduced her outfit to tatters, barely managing to cover her breasts. This somehow made it even more scandalous to look at her than if she had been naked. She got back in the carriage and resumed her journey to Rodelion, making a slight detour to her personal quarters first. Among the upper echelons of society, a foul rumor started to spread that Severina was an exhibitionist pervert who felt too good to have an audience with the duke, due to her being late and some of the staff claiming she had left the carriage naked.

Also, as long as I'm writing a big ol' reblog of this, how about a few more ideas for our rather lucky heroes? Starting with giving Cyrus some much needed love!

Vampire's Guest: A vampire noblewoman has invited the party to stay at her castle. Although suspicious of her generosity, they can't exactly refuse her offer. Once inside, she manages to enthrall the three girls in the party with a combination of illusions and hypnotism before making Cyrus an offer. As a champion of death, he represents the last person she would want to meet. But if he were to renounce said goddess (even temporarily!), the vampire might be able to help him. She'll even let his friends go without a scratch! She'd just need some "alone time" to get up close and personal with both his manhood and his neck…

Fairy's Plaything: While passing through an enchanted forest, Cyrus finds himself getting stuck in a massive spiderweb stretched between two trees. At first he's worried about whatever wove this web. But soon he finds himself surrounded by dozens of tiny fairies. These aren't your typical sweet fairies though. They strip him of his clothes, tease him everywhere they can reach and bring him to the edge of orgasm again and again. Fear comes over him as they fly down to his dick with loops of spiderweb to restrict his cock from cumming…

Finally, have one more for Skaeya, since she's the only one who I haven't given a prompt for now.

A Hunter's Wager: Hot off a string of triumphs, Skaeya and her teammates retire into a bar to celebrate their victories. Skaeya in particular gets drunk enough to the point of declaring that she could hunt any creature even without any weapons or clothes. Someone takes her up on that offer by challenging her to hunt down the werewolf that lives in the woods nearby. The creature has already taken down several other souls brave enough to try and hunt it, having either disappeared never to be seen again or being dominated and corrupted into joining its pack. Skaeya's not worried though. She's a champion of the God of Hunting and Revelry! She can totally take this werewolf, right?

Clockwise from top left: Kyrie, Penumbra, Spellweaver and Speedfreak