Victory Is Mine

"Ohgodohgodohgod!" Victory screamed, squirming underneath him as he mounted her. "No! Please...Don't...Stop...Don't stop! Please ohgod don't stop I'm begging you!"

Victory groaned as he forced his way in, it hurt at first, but she soon felt her pussy stretching to accommodate his massive cock! Her hips began rolling in synch with his powerful thrusts. He was a machine, relentless and unstoppable. His hard, rigid tool kept pumping her again and again and again and again for what felt like hours, driving her wild, driving her into a frenzy, until with one final spasm he gushed a veritable geyser of hot sticky semen! The sudden sensation made her head spin and as the warmth flooded through her the ravaged heroine cried out, shaking with a violent orgasm!

"YES! YES! Ohgod yes..." she mewled, her body trembling.

Victory writhed underneath the Centurion, gazing up at him through big doe eyes. She lay back on the mattress limp and exhausted, high on post-coital euphoria. She'd been with other men but none of them had been like that. She felt as if she'd been truly fucked for the very first time. Right then someone rapped quietly on the door.

"Commander?" a voice called timidly. "We need you, sir."

"No rest for the wicked," the Centurion groaned as he pulled his shorts on. The cowed heroine watched him go, through glassy green eyes.

I feel like an egg, she thought dreamily...and I've just been laid!

Chapter 6

The Centurion left Victory behind with a VERY satisfied smile on his face. As he pulled the office door closed behind him, he twisted a length of heavy wire around the doorknob and secured it to the stair railing, confident that his delicious prisoner was safe and helpless to escape. At the bottom of the stairs, he saw the Victorycycle where his henchmen had parked it, inert and impotent, unable to aid its captive mistress. He spared the vehicle a nod of approval. The superheroine was obviously an outstanding engineer in addition to being an amazing fuck! On the other side of the factory floor, a plain gray panel truck was parked beside his chariot.

His fourth henchman had arrived, reporting that a U.S. Army attack helicopter was patrolling in the area.

"Shit!" Strickland cursed. "Victory! I knew it! What if that stupid bitch called in our location?"

"I don't think that's her style," the Centurion said dismissively. "She has a touch of arrogance, that one. She would have wanted to bring us in all by herself."

The stunning superlady's powerbelt, bracelets and mask were lying there on the packing crate. He picked up her mask, smiling as he thought how much he had enjoyed her pussy. Unable to keep a gleam from his eyes; like the cat that ate the canary...and who was looking forward to doing so again very soon.

"I still say we should dispose of her," said Strickland, cutting into his thoughts.

"I will decide what happens to her," the Centurion snapped. Then an ironic smile played about his lips. "Victory is mine!"

Upstairs in the office, Victory sat up on the mattress. She had to get escape before the Centurion returned.

Who knows what he'll do to me next time, she thought with more curiosity than she cared to admit.

Now that she wasn't being watch, she plucked at the knot in her halter with her teeth until she got it undone. Once she was free, the powerless superheroine sat there rubbing her chafed wrists, looking around her prison. There was nothing but a few pieces of decrepit furniture that had been left behind when the factory was abandoned. Nothing she could use as a weapon if the Centurion came back to have his way with her again. She might possibly barricade the door, but what good would that do her? He still had her mask and all her weapons! Struggling to shake off her despair, she pulled on her thong, then her skimpy purple uniform. It felt good to be dressed again, if nothing else.

Victory tried the door. It wasn't locked, but something, a wire of somekind most likely, was wound about the handles so it only gave a couple of inches despite her best efforts. She kicked the door in impotent frustration, feeling the tears welling once again.

I hate feeling so helpless! she thought to herself. I'm a grown woman, a superheroine not some...

Just then something brushed the ankle of her silver boot. Victory glanced down to see a skinny rat sniffing at her high heel. A spasm of panic shot through her lissome body. Her pretty knees nearly knocking together, the sexy superheroine let out a shrill scream and jumped up on the desk. The rodent, seeming to sense that the trembling girl was too frightened to be a threat, reared up almost taunting, as if it meant to crawl up after her. Victory's skin felt as if it were going to crawl right off of her.

...Not some feeble little girl? She finished her thought with a note of self-deprecation. Scared of a dirty little mouse?

Then she heard footsteps coming up the iron staircase. The heroine's cheeks flushed with shame at the thought of the Centurion catching her like this, cowering in fright like a little girl! But when the door creaked open, it wasn't the supervillain. It was the henchman she thought of as Big Mouth! The thug took in the scene and laughed.

"Oh hell ain't this cute?" he drawled. "The tough, cocky-ass superhero scared of a mouse!"

Victory saw red. She suddenly wanted nothing more in this world than to wipe that smug, sneering grin right off his face! The young heroine leaped, intending to grab his collar and slam his head against the doorjamb. Unfortunately she was so used to having superhuman strength, she misjudged her impact. The goon caught her wrists easily and Victory's heart sank realizing he was much stronger than her.

"Cute, babe," he smirked, twisting her arms behind her. "But not good enough."

"Let go of me!" Victory whined, struggling uselessly in his clutches.

Holding both her wrists captive with one hand, the thug reached up with the other and grabbed a handful of her luxurious brunette hair. She could not even hold back a soft yelp as he gave a sharp yank!

"You ain't so tough without your superpowers, are ya?" the henchman sneered. "without them, it's just girl against man. And we both know which one is stronger, don't we?" Jordin writhed in his grasp, her sleek, spandex-clad body rubbing up and down against him. "DON'T WE?" he repeated, yanking even more savagely on her tresses.

"YES!" Victory squeaked, tears of pain brimming in her eyes. "YES! You're stronger than me! Please don't..."

Keeping a firm grip on her locks, he released her wrists, letting that hand roam around her slim torso. He tugged on the clingy fabric of her uniform, slipping inside her halter top to squeeze her nubile breast like a lush, ripe melon. Her stomach twisted in revulsion, feeling him touch her that way and knowing there was nothing she could do about it. Centurion had had his way with her and now to be pawed by this common lowlife, how could this be happening. A soft moan of despair escaped her lips as that calloused hand continued to tug on her firm breasts.

"Yeahhhh," he sighed, possibly mistaking the intent of her moan. "I know what the boss was doing up here with YOU!" He risked a quick look out the door, pushing it shut with his foot. "Come on, cunt. How about giving up some sugar for a real man?"

If you were half the man...she could not finish the thought.

The painful pressure in the heroine's hair forced her down on her knees, while at the same time his free hand reached under his tunic and undid his trousers. The garment fell to the floor, leaving Victory at eye level with the henchman's dangling penis and hairy testicles.

NO! Not this! she thought, trying to pull away. Please no, anything but that!

The henchman's grip tightened on her head, shoving her face practically against his gonads. "I ain't got all day!" he snapped, yanking at her hair so hard it brought tears to her eyes. "Get on with it!"

Another yank forced Victory's mouth open and Big Mouth shoved in nearly his entire package. Nearly retching at the sudden unpleasant taste, she reached up, her soft trembling hands inadvertently cupping his balls, which caused his pecker to instantly spring upright gagging her! Breathless, just wanting it to be over, Victory leaned forward, pressing her full lips against the vile thing. Gingerly she took hold of his shaft with her fingers, stroking him while her tongue timidly slid the length of it.

"You can do better than that, skank," the henchman grumbled impatiently, giving her head another jerk. "Don't make me get rough!"

At this point submission was her only option. Victory closed her eyes, trying to imagine that it was the Centurion's cock she was going down on. She shifted closer, caressing his willy with her face, rubbing it against the smooth, silken skin of her cheeks and her jawline. She could feel little spasms of delight twitching his wiener.

"Mmmm yes," she whispered, her tongue darting out to lick him over and under, "ooooh yes..." Her soft, rosy lips parted as her mouth engulfed his shiny bulbous knob once again

.

"Yeah!" the thug moaned, his hips rocking back and forth. "That's the ticket! Suck me! Suck me off!"

Jordin's lips constricted around his cock sucking as her head bobbed up and down, up and down, her fine white teeth raking his pulsating tool as she ate him alive... All at once he released, ejaculating a huge squirt of cum. The heroine felt the stickiness in her mouth and tried to pull away.

"Take it, take it!" Big Mouth clamped down, pulling her head all the way into his crotch as he unloaded into her helpless mouth! He came until she thought she might drown in his jism but still she would not swallow...not for this man! Finally he relaxed enough for Victory to pull back, sputtering out the nasty stuff with a grimace. The henchman's eyes were closed in ecstasy.

"Ohgod that was great!" he groaned, loosening his grip on her hair. "I'm gonna have to let you do that again, sweetcheeks!"

"Fat chance, loser!" the superheroine said, twisting out of his grasp and yanking his arm behind him.

Big Mouth struggled to regain control, but with his pants down around his ankles, he didn't have a chance. A strong shove sent him stumbling over the desk, where he crashed to the floor with his legs comically flailing in the air. Victory was already out the door and latching it behind her!

Chapter 7

On the other side of the building, Clarise Strickland had opened the case and taken out the Orpheus device. It was about two feet long, gunmetal gray in color, shaped rather like a flat squarish rifle.

"You know," she said musingly, "I'm having second thoughts about selling this thing."

The Centurion was leaning against one of the thick concrete support pillars, with his arms folded across his chest. "I don't care what you do with it," he said, his mind on the delicious superheroine he had left upstairs, "as long as I get the other half of my fee." His other three henchmen nodded in agreement.

"Oh, don't worry about your money," Strickland said, hefting the device with both hands, as though getting the feel of it. "I was only thinking with this weapon I could be a supervillain! All I need is a tight, revealing costume and a name. Something classical... something like... The Siren! I mean, if a slacker like Jordin Tyler can be a superheroine, how difficult can it be?"

The three henchmen perked up at the mention of a revealing costume but the Centurion only sighed. "I think you underestimate Jordin Tyler at your own peril!"

"Oh pish!" the beautiful engineer scoffed, sighting down the device's waveguide projector as if it were a gunbarrel. "Look how easily we defeated.." She broke off suddenly. "Do you hear something?"

The Centurion had indeed picked up a low hum, like the purr of a well-tuned engine. It seemed to be coming from... No... it couldn't be...

With a sudden roar, the Victorycycle appeared, its beautiful, purple-clad rider hunched over the handle bars as it jumped over one of the rusting machines. At the top of its arc, a mini-rocket fired from the front of the chassis. The projectile opened up into a web-bomb, which neatly netted the three henchmen, who were still frozen in panic. The Centurion smiled in grudging admiration and then he had to throw himself flat on his face unless he wanted to get run over.

The Victorycycle hit the floor, bounced once, and skidded to a stop next to the packing crate. The alluring superheroine leaped gracefully and snatched up her power belt, striking her cockiest pose as she latched in around her trim, luscious waist.

"OK, Centurion!" she snarled confidently. "What do you say we make it best two out of three?"

The Centurion was on his feet, drawing the eighteen-inch wooden rod from his belt. "I wouldn't have it any other way, enchantress."

Victory leaped down from the crate and watched his approach warily, well aware that her super strength was the only thing she had going for her. The Centurion was much better at fighting than she was, and she hadn't had time to put on her bracelets. With his impact-absorbing armor, simply trading punches would get her nowhere. Above all, she couldn't let him get close enough to snag her power belt!

He moved in swiftly. As the rod slashed towards her, the nubile young heroine managed to duck, but the Centurion spun around, clocking her on the side of the head with the back of his leather-clad fist.

"Uhn!" Victory staggered, seeing stars.

She felt his hands grab her slender waist and realized he was trying to take her power belt. Almost in panic, she swung her right elbow back, catching him a blow that sent him tumbling backward. The villain pressed his attack, keeping her on the defensive. Victory aimed a kick which he parried easily, then he whirled, bringing his wooden rod around in a sharp slap on her gorgeous, spandex-clad derriere. The sexy superlady yelped, clutching her bottom.

"I can't tell you how much I enjoyed you earlier," he said casually. "And how I'm looking forward to taking you again."

"Don't count on it!" she answered.

This time when he advanced, Victory charged to meet him. When he swung the baton, instead of dodging it, she deflected it with her forearm. It hurt like anything, but the spunky superheroine gritted her teeth and caught his wrist, yanking him forward so that she could slam the flat of her left hand into his face. The impact stunned Centurion. Reaching down, she grabbed his muscular legs and tossed him into the air, where he crashed head first into the open cockpit of his chariot. He groaned but didn't get up.

"Beware the Ides of March!" Victory smirked, brushing off her hands smugly. She wasted no time in getting back to the packing crate and putting on her bracelets of defense. She looked around for her mask but couldn't find it anywhere.

"Is this what you're looking for?" Strickland said, stepping out from behind the panel truck. She was wearing Victory's mask. She was also holding the Orpheus device.

"Dr. Strickland," Victory said, "you want to put that thing down before you hurt somebody."

"Exactly my intention!" said Strickland, taking aim and firing.

Victory ducked behind the packing crate. The ultrasonic beam missed her, blasting a basketball sized hole straight through the wood.

I can't believe it works, Victory thought. And she's cranked it up to LETHAL intensity!

Even the near miss sent quivers throughout the nubile young heroine's lissome body. She didn't dare try to deflect the beam with her bracelets! Victory jumped on top of another crate as Strickland swept her weapon to track her. Again the beam missed, striking the corrugated roof of the factory with a jagged explosion of tin and glass.

Strickland scowled, "Hold still, blast you!"

"You can't blast what you can't hit," Victory replied, doing a rolling dive just under the beam.

Strickland's aim was so bad, she punched a hole in her own getaway vehicle. Her next shot blew apart the big outside doors, and then the heroine heard a sickly whine from the Orpheus device.

"Fuck!" Strickland swore, fumbling with the gun. "The power supply fused! Stupid thing!"

"Aw, isn't that just too bad?" Victory stood just in front of her with her hands on her hips. "Do you feel like giving up now, or do I have to get persuasive?"

Before Strickland could answer, an Army helicopter appeared hovering just outside the gaping hole in the wall where the double doors used to be.

"Don't either of you move!" the pilot commanded them over his aircraft's loudspeakers. "We have you covered!"

Victory turned and gave the men a reassuring wave, then realized that she didn't have her mask on! Quickly she turned to Strickland.

"I believe this is MINE," she said, snatching her mask and putting it on.

The older woman gave her a somewhat sheepish grin. Within moments, two Army Hummels had pulled up outside the factory building.

"I have a proposition for you, Miss Tyler," Strickland said quickly knowing they hadn't any time to lose. "If you won't tell that I conspired to steal the Orpheus project, I won't give away your secret identity. Do we have a deal?"

A pit of dread dropped into Victory's stomach. It was a no win situation. Even back to full strength the young heroine began to feel as small as she had when Clarise was reprimanding her as a Junior Consultant. She turned on the older woman angrily. In truth the heroine only had one option, after all her secret identity was for the protection of her loved ones, not her own.

"Fine, I'll keep your secret," Victory growled through grit teeth. "If you'll keep mine!"

"It's a deal!" the older woman agreed smiling broadly.

I've bested the Centurion and ensured that the Orpheus will not fall into the hands of America's enemies, Victory tried to reassure herself. An yet I've still been defeated... by Dr. Clarise Strickland, of all people!

Private Dancer

It was a moonlit spring night. Jordin Tyler had been kept very late at work with a lot of tedious paperwork. At eleven o'clock she felt too tired to go out, but didn't feel like staying at home watching television. Fortunately Jordin had the perfect way to blow off steam. A quick trip to the bedroom to change, and the young woman emerged as VICTORY, the city's most powerful superheroine!

Her trim, athletic body was now clad in silver heeled boots, a pair of tight purple hot pants, and a matching halter top with her "V" emblem sitting proudly over her gorgeous bust. Jordin quickly slipped on her invincible bracelets and her silver power belt, studying her reflection in the mirror as she turned first to one side, then the other. Putting on her mask, she was ready to hit the streets.

She cruised the hills overlooking the city on the Victorycycle, loving the way the wind fluttered her luxurious brunette tresses and the way the saddle of her big machine throbbed against her smooth inner thighs. Even though she had come out "on patrol" it quickly became a pleasure trip...as if she didn't have care in the world.

Ahhh this is more like it! The heroine thought contentedly. I could drive like this for hours!

Suddenly Victory hit the brakes in front of the mansion of Olympia Keaton James, the famous movie star. Although the stunning superlady knew for a fact that the actress was in Acapulco making a movie, there were lights on in the house! Victory smiled. She had mellowed just enough that a quick tussle with a couple of burglars would be welcome.

She pulled into a narrow access road next to the stone wall that surrounded the house. According to the Victorycycle's sensors, the security system was down. Without hesitation, the spunky supergirl stood up on the seat and leaped over the wall. Landing catlike, she sprinted up to the house. Aha, she knew it! The sliding glass door leading to the living room was open, and two men in dark cloaks were standing guard! Their attention was focused watching the driveway, so it was child's play for Victory to creep right up and tap them both on the shoulder.