A Sticky Situation for Sparrowhawk

"Oh God. Oh God. You're stretching me too much. I can't believe this is happening to me. I can't believe I'm letting you do this. God. I'm scared. This is dirty. This is so damn dirty. I'm so scared."

She didn't think they would be able to affect her with it. Not like they wanted. Of course she was afraid she would turn out to be wrong. And it would still be humiliating and horrible, even if the vibrations didn't get to her the way they were supposed to, when they prodded her spread parts with the thing. But considering what they'd put her through already, she didn't think her body would be capable of any real sexual response, no matter how much stimulus they applied. She was simply too embarrassed and freaked out and disgusted with herself. You couldn't make a girl feel sexual pleasure, when she was in such a lowly state. Especially after you'd just beat her bare ass fiery red. Right?

Wrong. She found out she was wrong.

"Oh my! Oh dear God! It feels—it feels so—Oh! Wait! Oh! Oh no!"

In fact she was already dripping wet and tickling inside, before the end of the tool had made contact with her. Her despair and shame hadn't blocked arousal—instead those emotions had already triggered it. And enflamed her. Her parts had become extra-receptive. The slightest brush against them, it set off lightning bolts all through her body. She screeched, bouncing and kicking in the robots' tight, cold hands. But they kept her suspended, firm and open. They used the toy harshly on her, like the Moderator promised. They used it just as harshly as the paddle.

And again she begged. At first she begged for them to stop, or to at least go easier on her ... "Not so hard! Not so deep! Oh please! Please I beg you not so deep! It's too much! I can't take it! I can't, I swear! Oh God! Oh shit! Too much! Ahhnnhh! Ahhuuhhaahhrrnn!"

She threw her head back and screamed and screamed. The young heroine had never experienced physical pleasure of this intensity. It was humbling, in fact. The small fragment of her mind that was still capable of semi-coherent thought was genuinely awestruck. This villainous Moderator knew his business. His machines had reduced her to a state of utter subjugation. Practically mindless. She was completely dominated now, and would remain so as long as the robots continued to stimulate her in this fashion. God, an individual could become addicted to these sensations.

She'd been foolish to come into this place and challenge this villain. He was too smart and too efficient, and worst of all, her body had turned out much too susceptible to his manipulations. Perhaps most women were, once a mad scientist like this figured out which buttons to push, so to speak. And pushed them.

This was a perfect punishment, perfectly designed. It was doing exactly what a punishment is supposed to do. Make her feel she'd done wrong, and make her sorry for doing it. She was. She felt guilty and ashamed of herself, and she made a vow inside that she would never dare to challenge the Moderator again.

"Ohhoohh uuhhhuuhhaahhrrr God! Please no more! Please I can't take it! I can't! Huuhhoohhuuhh! It's ... it's gonna make me ... You're gonna make me ... You can't do this to me! I'm a goddamn superheroine! Stop! Oh stop! I mustn't let you make me ... But I can't stop it! I can't! Oh God! God I think I'm gonna ..."

But then, when the robots did finally relent, it was at the worst possible moment—or the ideal one, from the Moderator's perspective. It was just before her body was about to achieve climax. Only then did they remove the source of stimulation. So she had to beg for them to put it back. She didn't even hesitate. Simply couldn't help herself, at that point. Past the proverbial point of no return ...

"Oh god! Wait! Don't stop now! You mustn't stop now! I'm so close! You got me so close! Oh you fuckers! Oh please don't stop now!" It was just like he had told her. She was really doing it! He had absolutely conquered her body, and her will! God—the shame! But she could not stop begging. The need they had awakened inside her was just too powerful. "Please! Oh please! What have you done to me? You can't leave me hanging like this! Not now! Not like this! I need to finish! I have to finish! Oh God! Please! Finish it! I wanna come! I have to come now! I have to! God! Please!"

But they didn't give it to her. They didn't let her get off. "This completes your punishment," announced the Moderator. "It was a fine show, Sparrowhawk."

"No! No! God! Not like this! Oh God!"

"Put her down the chute now," he said. "Farewell, Sparrowhawk. Until our next encounter."

Another trapdoor opened, and the robots tossed her down the hole. She slid down a long spiral tube. It was a long trip. She screamed the whole way. At the end of it, she found herself deposited into an alley full of dumpsters, behind the Moderator's skyscraper. Her bare bottom, still scorching hot and throbbing from the paddle, bumped on to the gritty pavement. She shrieked once again, springing to her feet to clutch her bottom. "Ow! Ow! Owee! God! My ass! My poor ass! Oh God!"

And her pussy too—God, it was aching and burning inside just as bad, or maybe worse. And oozing, too, of course. It had oozed all down her legs, clear to her knees. God. So much!

Now what was she supposed to do? It was the middle of the night, and she was in the middle of the city, far from home. Stark naked in the streets. Nobody was around to help her—but at least nobody was around to see her in this disgraceful condition either.

Soon the Moderator would broadcast his recording of her punishment for the whole world to watch, and laugh at her. The whole fucking world would see her stripped and spanked and made to beg. Turned wanton despite all her resistance. God, what a show, what a spectacle. Oh God, how could she stop it from happening? How could she save herself?

How could she get her powersuit back? She had an older backup model at home ... Would it be good enough? Not a chance. How could it be, if the newer version hadn't turned out good enough? Still, she would have to try. No other choice. She would have to go back there—tomorrow or the next day, no later—and take the villain on again ... but did she dare? Did she have the courage? She wasn't sure. What if she failed again? What if she only ended subjected to another disgraceful punishment?

God, the feel of the toy upon her. Its twin heads, buzzing like bumblebees, both drilling her most sensitive places. It had been agony—but so good! She wanted to feel it again.

She couldn't think straight. She had to get home. How was she was going to get home? She'd just have to run—sneaking though backstreets and alleys like this one, as much as possible, along the way. Oh God—this was going to take forever, and it was going to suck so much. She hated the feel of the gritty hot concrete under her bare feet. It made her me feel so dirty and barbaric and helpless. She was terrified of stepping into dog poo or cutting herself on broken glass or something. And her ass wouldn't stop aching, and neither would her oozing desperate pussy.

Sparrowhawk realized she would have to ease it, right here and now, before she did anything else. At least it wouldn't take her long, in the condition she was in. And it would help settle her down and clear her mind. No one would see, no one would know.

She stuck her fingers inside herself and rubbed. Oh God. God that was what she needed. Not as good as the toy felt—but good enough to get her done. The fucking evil robots had left her so worked up. She couldn't remember ever feeling this wild and horny and desperate in her whole entire life ... She was right about it not taking long. Sparrowhawk got herself off in the alley in only twenty seconds. But as it sparked and clenched and gushed against her palm, the orgasm was so strong she couldn't stop herself from moaning out loud.

"Oh shit—Shit! Ohhhoohhuuhhnn!"

She thought she would maybe pass out. And she almost lost her footing. She almost fell over on her face. "Wow. Oh my. Oh man. Shit." Fluid dribbled on the concrete from her crotch, and some splashed on top of her feet. Maybe she'd made herself pee a little. Gross.

Well, at least the crazy animal need was out of her system. At least it was taken care of.

Then when her head cleared and she opened her eyes, she saw there was another camera mounted on the wall right over her head. Same kind of camera as all the others in the Moderator's maze. It was pointed right down at her. Oh God.

He'd still been watching her. He'd seen everything. He would have recorded it, too. He'd filmed her making herself come.

"No! Oh no! It's not fair! You bastard!" How could she have been so stupid again? Why couldn't she have controlled herself? "You made me! You made me do it! It wasn't my fault!" But of course deep down in her gut she knew it was. Or at least she shared the guilt. She should have been stronger. She should have been smarter. She should have been able to beat him, but she hadn't been good enough. A real superheroine would never have let him catch her, never let him punish her. And certainly never have given in to the sensations. But in the end that was exactly what she'd done.

She fled the alley, shrieking, her hands covering her face. She didn't even bother trying to be sneaky. What was the point anymore? She just ran straight down the sidewalk of High Street, her face screened but otherwise totally exposed, sprinting as fast as she could. And it didn't end up mattering. There was little traffic, and nobody on the sidewalk but some bums. They whistled at her, and some cars honked. But nobody tried to stop her. Assumed she was just another crazy person, in the crazy city.

There was one lone cop, parked close to her apartment building, killing time ... Sparrowhawk didn't notice him, but he saw her running around the corner to get to her back door. But he let her be. Sparrowhawk didn't have a clue about this fact, but most of the cops in town knew who she was and where she lived. They knew she was an up-and-coming superheroine, but not a very successful one. "Prone to mishaps," her file read. This wasn't the first time she'd been spotted streaking home in such a state. And no doubt it wouldn't be the last.