Sable and the Supers Ch. 07byFalcinator©
Here we go again. Part 7 of a one-part serial.
Questions answered, questions asked, and fan-service for everyone who wanted Sable to take charge and give subs everywhere something to fantasise about.
This really is a series in rigidly ordered parts, not a series of loosely connected stories set in the same universe. If you haven't read the rest, you will have no idea what is going on.
Now, let the action commence.
Outside the laboratory door Catherine took a deep breath, smoothed down clothes that didn't wrinkle and braced herself. It was her turn.
The door slid open with the smooth, low purr built in to announce it was working.
The Engineer was standing against a high desk, leaning on his elbows with his head in his hands.
After the first time one of them had tried to tiptoe up to him, she made sure her heels clicked on the floor.
"MRI," he said as she got closer. "CT scans. Functional MRI. PET. None of it shows any fucking difference, and I don't know if any of it is different to normal humans anyway!
He straightened up suddenly and hurled a pen straight through a monitor and its metal frame and out the other side, embedding it in the wall.
"Collecting scientists doesn't work because they live by this world's rules, so they don't know there is any difference between humans and ... them.
"I can build a machine that finds Supers, but it doesn't work on you two. I can't build a machine that finds humans, it just DOESN'T. FUCKING. WORK!"
He stood very upright and very still, breathing heavily with his hands clenched into fists by his side as the broken bits of monitor finished tickling to the bench and the ground.
She took a deep breath and opened her mouth.
His hand shot up, one finger extended in the universally recognised "shush" gesture.
"I'm going to let some steam off," he said in a very controlled voice, turned sharply and marched out the door. The last thing she heard before the door closed behind him was a very polite "Could you please clean that up?"
Arnaud made coffee by instinct, avoided finding out the dangers of playing with boiling water while naked, found china cups and a silver tray and carried it all back through to the bedroom.
He stepped inside the door and instantly froze, blind and unable to move as black bands appeared over his eyes and around his calves, thighs, and chest and upper arms.
He was lifted off the ground and the tray lifted out of his hands before his arms were forced to his sides and bound there.
He instinctively reached out to the link between him and Sable and instead of a clean line through to her mind he found a muddy, vague sense of direction ending in a flaming wall of anger.
"Try and get into my mind again," she said with the dispassionate, even tones of absolute certainty, "and I will rip your balls off."
He felt a band encircle his scrotum at the base and slowly tighten, stretching it and forcing his testicles together. She didn't stop until he gasped in pain.
"Do you understand me?"
"You did not want me to? You asked me what my powers were ..."
He screamed as the band around his scrotum clenched.
"You did not get permission to use them. You're new in this city, you're new in this world, so I'll tell you this very clearly. You can choose to be good or evil but if you choose evil I will hunt you down like a dog."
"I believe I am a Villain," he said tentatively, but she cut him off with a force he almost felt as physical.
"FUCK THAT. You are a HUMAN now, do you hear me? That means you make your own fucking decisions.
"I was bought into this world as a Hero. I thought what we did was pretty fucking stupid, and the way we went about it even more so.
"Then I came here and suddenly because I wear black I'm a Villain. Well, fuck that. I am what I make me. I look after myself and I choose to look after people who get in the way of selfish, fucked-in-the-head Villains or who get caught in the crossfire when Heroes with simplistic fucking value systems fire at will.
"And you are NOT going to just accept some fucking label put on you by fate because the mere fact of being human means you make your own fucking fate, do you fucking understand me?"
"This word 'fucking', ..." he began.
"Is multiply useful," she said brusquely. "It began as another verb for sex, now it can be whatever you want it to be, mostly emphasis. Don't dodge the fucking question."
"I think I understand you," he said slowly.
"Good. Because I am telling you: I decide to be a Hero now. You live in this city, you make a life here, and by any gods anybody here believes in if you fuck with the people of this city I will fuck you up because I am appointing myself defender of anyone who can't look after themselves, I don't care how fucking unofficial I am about it.
"Because I don't care about their status - if they're old humans, or brand new, or just making up the scenery. While they look human they deserve all the rights of humans, you got that?"
There was silence, for not quite too long. "I understand you," he said. "How am I to tell what is right and what is wrong?"
"What did you get while raping my fucking mind?" she snapped at him.
He was silent again. "Emotions," he finally said. "Something ... empathy?"
"Good. You keep that. You throw away the rest but you keep that. You feel what you do to people and you remember that."
He almost nodded, but her bands still kept him locked rigidly in position. "Okay."
She stared at him, drawing the silence out until he wondered what he had missed, what he was supposed to say. "Can I trust you?" She finally asked. "Can I trust you to behave yourself and stay the fuck out of my head?"
"I promise I will not do that again, now I know what I am doing," he said with sincerity in his voice.
She stared at him, drawing the silence out past the point of discomfort once more. "Good. And believe me, if you try you may even succeed but I will go down fighting, and if you ever let me go again I will see to it I destroy you as completely as a Super can be destroyed."
He didn't need to wonder about the emotion the tone of her voice induced in him then. He knew immediately it was fear.
The Engineer's only reply was a strangled moan of exhaustion and pain.
His latest guest was a Heroine called Mercura who dressed in a miniskirt and low-cut latex blouse, cape, face-mask, gloves to over her elbows and boots to mid-calf and who could project blasts of energy from the space in front of her belly.
She needed to curl forwards and use her hands to summon the ball of energy, so the Engineer had shackled her wrists and ankles to the corners of the room, face-up, and lifted her off the ground by a belt around her waist, arching her backwards.
Lying down, she would have been merely helpless. But by stretching her in a backwards arch around a thin belt cutting into her back he kept her in a constant state of tension and pain.
She may have been able to endure it if he hadn't already conducted a full interrogation, but even a Super can reach exhaustion with an hour of continuous arousal followed by half an hour of orgasms while being forced to answer questions.
But not even a tall, fit, big-breasted Heroine in the throws of continuous orgasm had been able to distract the Engineer from his frustrations after she was unable, even in a state of complete delirium, to give him any insights into the nature of the reality of the world they were in.
He hadn't even fucked her himself.
He fully intended to change that.
As he walked in the door she was side-on to him. He stopped a moment to admire the graceful, strained arch of her torso and limbs and the way he had kept her breasts out of the way by pulling her nipples up, using the rings he had inserted out of habit, pulling them at an exactly calculated angle perpendicular to her chest.
For purposes of symmetry, he had done the same thing to her clit, the thin lines from either end of her body now nicely balanced, the slight stretch on her clitoris sufficient to reduce her to mindless flesh but not cause any unnecessary pain.
She was still sweating and still delirious, body shivering as the piercings kept her at a level of arousal that should not, physiologically, have been possible even for a Heroine for so long.
He strolled slowly around her, relishing the view from all angles as he stepped over the chain holding her right wrist and moved in front of her. For the sake of convenience, he had strung her up so her head and hips were at approximately hip height, and then bought in a chair so he could interrogate her face to upside-down face.
He sat in that chair and regarded her.
The proud, defiant and noble face of the Heroine was now drawn, red, sweat-covered, slack-jawed and with unfocused, staring eyes. He had tied her hair to the floor to keep her head in one spot and it was pulling her forehead taut.
He waved in front of her vacant gaze. "Anybody home?"
Not even her pupils reacted.
With a sigh he took the remote out of his pocket and relaxed the tension on the three lines to her piercings.
She responded surprisingly rapidly, tone returning to her face and her eyes settling, coming together and focusing on him. She tried to speak, but it was a dry rasp.
He bent down for the water bottle by his feet. It was in the shape of a large dildo and the drinker had to suck hard to open the valve.
She already knew what it was and thirst overrode any revulsion she might still have. She opened her mouth wide and he slid it smoothly and with the ease of practice into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed and she drank a litre from the self-filling reservoir before she stopped sucking.
He pulled it out of her mouth. "You were saying?" He asked, politely.
"What do you want with me?" she croaked. "I couldn't answer any of your questions. What do you still want with me?"
"Well ..." he began, then stopped and frowned. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. She wasn't supposed to have reached that point in bargaining, ever. There was a script - near two hundred years had taught him exactly what it was. She was supposed to ...
"If it would help at all," she whispered, "I promise not to attack you if you let me down."
She was definitely not supposed to say that!
"Who are you?" he snarled, eyes narrowing. "And what have you done with the two-dimensional NPC I left strung up in these chains?"
"I am still Mercura," she croaked. What is an 'NPC'? I don't understand."
He rubbed his eyes vigorously, opened them to see her staring at him in pain, confusion and something that was definitely resignation. She had given up.
She had given up.
They never give up.
It was a fundamental rule - Heroes never give up, never admit defeat, keep fighting in the face of the most blatant proof they've lost, all up until their minds are controlled.
But she had given up.
He leaned forwards in the chair to stare into her eyes, nose to forehead.
"Were you human?" he asked, harshly.
"No," she gasped. "I was never human. I began here."
This was becoming hard to take. He'd have to go and fuck one of his maids to recover composure, at this rate.
He took a deep breath. "How old are you?"
"I'm not sure ... maybe a year."
One year? That was far more random than he had guessed.
"When did you have this sudden realisation?" he asked flatly.
"I'm not sure ... I just ... realised."
He looked at her, dragging the moment out while trying to sort it through in his head and the look on her face, without the constant stimulation to her clitoris keeping her consciousness suppressed, becoming more and more drawn and stressed.
"What do you want with me?" she asked again, breaking the silence first. "Do you want to fuck me? Let me down and I'll fuck you."
He blinked, completely blind-sided. That was far too much like Sable, and unbalanced him for a second too long to maintain his composure.
"You're a Heroine," he snarled. "Heroine's do pure and chaste, they don't offer to fuck their captors to be let off punishment."
"Why not?" she gasped, staring him straight in the eye. "You've done everything else to me. You've tormented me with sex for I don't know how long. I can't remember everything you've done to me. I got captured two weeks ago and raped and I didn't enjoy it but you've forced me to enjoy this.
"So fuck me. Tie me to a bed if you like. Rape me as much as ..."
"STOP!" He held up his hand, shaking a little with a confused mixture of bafflement, the fear of the strange and a murky rage at his assumptions being violated.
He pointed a quivering finger at his face. "You are changing," he snarled. "You are evolving. You are becoming more intelligent, more self-aware and more reasonable. Soon you will be indistinguishable from actual human. Why are you doing that? HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT?"
"I don't know!" she almost shouted, without the energy to do so properly, tears of frustration adding to the tears of pain in her eyes.
He abruptly lifted the remote, pressed it. The lines attached to her piercings tautened slightly. She moaned, eyes rolling back in her head but consciousness still lingering.
"Ask me again," he said softly.
"Fuck meeee," she groaned, body beginning to tremble in the inverted suspension.
"Shove your dick in me," she gasped out. "Fuck my pussy. Please!"
"Beg to suck my cock. Beg to be allowed to suck my cock."
Body and mind already broken, no amount of self-control could have prevented her from begging to wrap her lips around his head, begging to be allowed to suck him and show him what a good little cock-sucking whore she could be.
Her inventiveness impressed him so much he was convinced she wasn't trying to deceive him, wasn't just playing along with her kidnapper.
He slid off the chair into a crouch, ducked underneath her and came up between her legs, spreading his lab coat and pants with practiced ease and efficiency.
He turned off the tension once more and slipped the remote into his pocket before unclipping the line to the ring through her clitoris and flicking the thin cord out of the way.
"Mercura," he said, mildly. "Are you sure you haven't ever been fucked and enjoyed it?"
"No," she whispered, barely audible to where he stood in front of her glistening, spread pussy.
"It feels like this," he said, still mild, before seizing her hips, lining up and plunging in right to the core of her in one movement.
He pulled back and slammed in, his cock swelling, stretching her, finding her limit in girth and length, filling her as completely as was possible, adjusting his hips and leaning slightly forwards so he slammed into her clitoris every time he bottomed out inside her.
Her body, stretched tight but not locked in position, writhed under his hands as he groped her wide hips, muscular ass and thighs, narrow waist and up to the unnaturally firm globes of her breasts.
He settled into the tireless, superhuman speed and power he could maintain for hours, letting a little precum leak to seep into her bloodstream and make her his, all the while keeping up a running monologue.
"This is what it feels like, and it can feel better. Later on it will feel better. Oh, it'll take me a long time to finish with you. I'll fuck your pussy until you cum, and I'll fuck your ass until you cum, and I'll fuck your mouth until I cum all over your pretty Super Heroine face and I'll fuck your tits and drench you with my cum and all the time you'll be desperate for more, you'll be begging, you'll be pleading, because this is what happens to Heroines after I've been playing with them for hours.
"You'll recover, but until then you'll be mine. You'll be mine in body and soul and you'll be my willing fucktoy desperate to do anything I tell you to do, any sordid thing with me and my other toys because I know your body, I know how it works and I know how to make it mine and right now, strung up like meat, you can't fucking stop me.
"Now cum, bitch."
He let himself shoot inside her as her scream hit a pitch to shatter glass and her body thrashed in her bonds, clamping around him feeling so good he wondered, as he always did, how a non-Super could ever satisfy him again.
He pulled out of her abruptly, leaving her body desperate for more, his cock sticking grotesquely huge out the front of his pants.
Then he pulled out the remote and lowered her to the ground, the bonds falling away from her limbs and her body as limp as a rag doll.
Arnaud felt himself moved forwards, still bound rigidly upright.
"The thing about having sex while under mental control," Sable said, her voice dropping from angry to a calculated, meaningful purr that made his skin crawl from the more unmanning fear of the unexpected, "is that you don't remember it all. It's hazy, a jumble of sensations, emotions, images and snatches of events.
"The problem with that is, apart from being unsettling and just maybe intensely terrifying, is it's unsatisfying.
"It's just not fair if your body has all the fun and you didn't experience it properly, you know?"
Arnaud could sense her standing right in front of him, not by his powers but by the prickling of his forehead. He could also sense, as adrenalin washed his system and the pressure from the band around his balls did not let up, an involuntary erection.
"Luckily, I have almost everything I need to correct that. And you're now providing the missing piece very nicely."
He futilely tried to jerk backwards when he felt her grab his erection but his fear, based in uncertainty and his growing awareness of morality, was being fought by a deeper, more basic excitement and a desire to return to the sex he had only just discovered.
She began slowly massaging his cock a little too hard, a little impersonal, almost mauling it.
"I think, for the good of your further education, you should experience what being a toy feels like." Her voice dropped further, became a husky whisper that slowly caressed his libido even as it made him instinctively fight to get away. "I think I'm going to take my payment out of you."
He was hard beyond the point of return now. His body refused to listen to the reservations of his mind, it just wanted stimulation.
He knew she had no power over his mind but that was now a moot point when he didn't even have power over his own body.
He felt himself moving again, twisting in the air, turning so his sense of gravity became confused and he wasn't sure where he was until he landed on his bed, face-up.
The bands around his balls and the base of his cock kept him pointing straight upwards.
The bed moved as she slid onto it, shifting and rolling him until he felt her thighs settle around his waist and his bound arms, her naked flesh pushing his into the bed. The sensation was more exciting than he could have expected.
She shifted and he felt her buttocks press around his vertically trapped shaft and begin slowly rubbing up and down. The sensation was silken, intimate, erotic but absolutely maddening because, by touching only the top of his shaft below the head, she avoided all the most sensitive flesh.
She twisted her hips and he felt the dampness on her lips slide over his cock a second before her nipples grazed his chest and her full and firm breasts pressed him against the bed.
"You used me entirely for your experience," she whispered, so close her breath tickled his nose. "So I'm going to use you entirely for my pleasure. You're my toy now until I'm satisfied. You bound my mind so I will bind your body. You won't get to cum until I'm good and ready to let you, and since I don't have powers of mind control, I may just have to use pain instead."