Alpha Angel vs the Matador

Alpha Angel vs the Matador

in... The Running of the Superheroines!

Author's Note: this is a revision of an older story originally published elsewhere. Characters have been changed and events edited in accordance with site policy. No characters depicted in this work are under the age of 18.

When Alpha Angel arrived in the arena she did not realize that she was the grand finale.

As she slunk down the dark underground passage, Angel was dressed in her traditional patriotic costume. Above, her curvaceous torso slunk close to the concrete wall, clad in a blue star-spangled jacket. Below, her long athletic legs crunched in the soft gravel floor, clad in long blue thighboots, also with a pattern of white stars running up the front. Between them, her stunning body was clothed in what amounted to a skimpy, vertically red-and-white striped bikini. Upon her face, her sculpted glared out from behind her blue star-spangled mask.

Stepping out of the long dark secret passage, she slowly scanned her eyes across the empty sandy field of the underground arena... and smirked. The only man in sight was her target, and he had his back to her. The Matador stood at the far end of the dark bullring, black cape draped over his back, slowly sharpening his sword. Smiling smugly, Alpha Angel slowly and quietly sauntered forward, her ample curves jiggling silently in her bikini costume as her boots crunched ever so softly in the gravel.

But as she advanced, her eyes fixed on her would-be opponent, the stalwart superheroine unfortunately missed several ominous warnings scattered all around her. A torn scrap of her Katy Colt's pastel Texas Flag bikini bottom crunched unseen into the gravel under her boot. Several streaks of cum splattered across the gravel were stepped over or through, leaving the oblivious heroine's heels dripping and tarnished. Even the Jewel of Virtue, its soft red glow shining clearly from where it lay half-buried in sand, scraps of pure-white bustier peeking through to either side, remained unseen. Arriving in the very center of the ring, Alpha Angel put her hands upon her hips, planted her boots wide apart, and grinned.

"The game's up, Matador!" she announced, loudly. Her gorgeous face glared at his back sternly, from amidst her swirling bright pink hair, and beneath her shining golden headband. "There'll be no performance for your wicked sport tonight!"

"That is where you are wrong, Senorita," the Matador said, in a thick Latin accent, without turning. "The sport is just about to begin... now that the biggest bull - or should I say cow - has arrived!"

Slamming his sword into its sheath he whirled to face her, his cape billowing dramatically.

Alpha Angel gasped. Despite having had many tall tales about him whispered into her ear by various Latin-quarter prostitutes she'd arrested in the last few weeks, this was her first time actually laying eyes upon this particular villain. He looked the part. He was tall and lean, dressed in a traditional-looking red and black suit and wearing a red rose in his hair. His cape billowed, layers of red silk under its black outer sheath. The only hints that he was a super-villain were the Zorro-like domino mask on his face... and the tremendous bulge that extended down one leg of his tight pants.

Licking her lips, Alpha Angel found herself briefly distracted by the latter, despite herself. 'It's fake...' she told herself desperately, 'it has to be...' and returned her focus to her task.

Then the Matador gave a dramatic, flourishing signal. The house lights came up... and Alpha Angel gave a second, louder gasp. For instead of being empty as her informants had promised, the rising lights revealed the shadowy stands all around her to be packed full. Of criminals, by definition, as this was an extremely illegal performance. Moments later a thick iron grate slammed down over the entrance to the 'secret' passage behind her, sealing her in.

Alpha Angel whirled to gape back at the sealed exit behind her, then spun back to snarl at her foe. "What... what is the meaning of this?!" she demanded of him

"Miss Angel," the Matador said. Not even looking at her, he held out his fingers and examined his black-painted nails. "I want you to know something. I am a normal man. I have neither mutant strength nor magical power. I am no match for a true superheroine like you. I want you to know this..." he said, and reaching up, drew the flower from his hair and extended it towards her as if making a romantic gesture, "so that it will be all the more humiliating when I tame you."

Angel snorted. "Fat chance!" she said.

"Bold words," the Matador instantly replied, "for an American woman with such a gigantic, blubbery ass."

Angel's jaw dropped. Though 'blubbery' was not the word anyone would use for the two taut yet enormous spheres extending out from beneath the back of her star-spangled jacket, his words still hit a nerve. Her exceptionally voluptuous ass wiggled briefly back and forth as if struck, as if the two giant buns were fighting to escape her red-and-white-striped bikini bottom. "Oooh... " Alpha Angel hissed, brows lowering and hands forming into fists. "Oh, I am going to have fun with you!"

And with that she charged.

The Matador remained stock still as the proud American champion pounded towards him, gravel rising in gouts behind her each thundering boot-step.

"Note," he purred softly, "that I said nothing... about chloroform." Extending the flower toward the charging superheroine, as if offering it to a lover, when she was almost upon him he gave it a tiny squeeze. A cloud of gas immediately burst from the fake flower and into her face.

"Oh!" Angel gasped. She was moving too fast, and breathing too hard, to avoid it. Almost instantly, she had breathed a full lungful of the insidious vapor down into her curvy, well-endowed torso.

Her charge promptly stumbled and ceased, and the mighty heroine came to a wavering halt just a few feet in front of him. Gasping, Alpha Angel wobbled slowly back and forth, barely staying on her feet. She had managed to avoid taking in enough to knock her out, but her head, indeed the entire world, had suddenly started to spin.

Moving without the slightest haste, the Matador drew his sword and stood facing the dazed, wobbling superheroine. "Let us get this show started properly!" he said. Then, darting past her, he sent his sword arcing up in front of her chest and sliced straight through her bra. The crowd roared as the severed vertically-striped cups flew apart - and two titanic bare breasts spilled forth to bounce and jiggle naked before them.

"Oh, Goddess!" Alpha Angel gasped. Shaking out of her daze she looked down and gaped in shock to see her twin enormous jugs, wobbling back and forth in the cold air and harsh light that bathed down upon her. Then she whirled round, and found the Matador had already escaped to the far side of the arena. He stood, again ramrod straight, his cape held before him, waiting for her.

Glaring at him, she growled. Her eyes narrowed.

"I know your game," she said to him.

Instead of charging she put her hands upon her hips, trying to ignore the whistles of the crowd at the ponderous sway of her enormous unsupported breasts.

"You're playing me like a bull," Alpha Angel asserted. She raised an eyebrow. "Distract me, enrage me, and then wear me down with cuts.... that's the plan isn't it?" Slowly, she smiled, her face growing smug. "It's a good strategy," she admitted. "But what works on an animal? Won't work on a superheroine."

"Are you sure?" the Matador said. "Because it worked on your friend fine."

Reaching up, he tore what proved to a be thin layer of silk off the exposed lining of his cape to reveal, beneath it, a layer printed with a graphic, full color photo of himself fucking the brains out of Rebel Belle. The gorgeous redhead was on her hands and knees facing into the camera. Her trademark Confederate Flag panties were tugged halfway down her mighty thighs, binding them together. Her glowing jewel, which granted her her powers, along with scraps of the pure white bustier upon which it normally lay nestled, now lay in the dirt, just beneath her enormous hanging breasts. The Matador was perched behind her - with both hands down to get eager handfuls of said giant swaying tits. But his pelvis had just slammed up into her buns with what the blurring made clear was a devastating stroke. The once-proud Southern heroine's masked face was caught in the shooting backwards, her hair flying and her eyes rolling up, at how forcefully he had just slammed up into her.

Alpha Angel stared at the image in shock. Her hands trembled upon her hips. "That... that's a fake!" she gasped. "It... it has to be!"

"Is this?" Matador asked, tearing off another layer to reveal a shot of the same position, with Rebel Belle rearing up in squealing ecstasy as he slammed his hips straight up against her bountiful round ass. "Or this?" He tore out another sheet, revealing a new shot of he and the once-noble Daughter of Dixie lying belly-to-belly in the dirt... her pale head, trapped in his hand, nevertheless caught in the act of giving the foul swarthy criminal what looked for all the world a deep and passionate kiss.

"It...it can't be!" Alpha Angel gasped, in horror. As someone who had gone to great lengths to become a superheroine, the sight of another of their number getting so thoroughly defiled and disgraced filled her with fury. Her face twisted into a snarl, going bright red. "You... you bastard! I- I'll DESTROY you!" And, like an enraged bull, she charged right at him, her fist raised.

The Matador again remained perfectly still until the mighty super-heroine was just a few feet away, and then jerked the cape aside to reveal his other hand waiting behind it... holding the flower.

"Oh..." Alpha Angel gasped, too late. Seconds later his arm darted forward as if delivering a rapier thrust. He pressed the flower right into her face, covering her cheeks with its petals... and squeezed.

"Urrrk!" Angel yelped as, this time, the gas was sent swirling straight down her throat. Her arms fell limp by her sides and her whole body quivered before his as the gas poured into her. Then he pulled the flower away and, having spent its contents, tossed it dismissively aside. Its work had been done. The mighty heroine wobbled helplessly before him, even more out of her brain than before. Her pretty eyes, wide and wild behind her mask, looked at him but did not see him.

"Looks like it works on superheroines well enough," he purred to his helpless victim, as he again drew his sword. He glanced up and down her voluptuous scantily-clad body. "Perhaps I should make you less of one..."

The crowd roared as the tip of the Matador's sword slid unerringly inside one of the tiny hip-straps of Alpha Angel's skimpy red-and-white-striped panties. Alpha Angel let out a tiny squeak, as, with a deft twist, he sliced the strap in two without scratching the silky tender flesh just beneath it. One half of her panties already flopping down, he slid the sword into the loosening strap on her other rounded hip and, with a showier rising flourish, effortlessly sliced it in two as well.

Even with the gas still swirling mind-numbingly in her head, Alpha Angel trembled and blushed as she felt her superheroine panties flop down to either side of her pelvis like wilting leaves. Stepping around his curvy wobbling foe with a dancer's strut, before they could fall all the way the Matador reached down and grabbed hold of the skimpy back of her shredded striped bottoms. His hand slid rudely against the base of her silky rounded buns as he took a firm grip upon her severed costume. Then with a single smooth motion he yanked them away, looped the dangling garment round, and delivered it in a stinging and mocking swat against the very buxom ass it had once so scantily covered.

"Ole!" the Matador cried, as he spanked the so-called superheroine with her own panties. Still dazed by drugs, Alpha Angel squeaked, ass leaping, as she got spanked. Then with his arm raising in smooth follow through, he tossed the tattered panties to one side like a spent flower and made good his retreat.

When Alpha Angel finally shook her head clear and whirled around, she found him again waiting patiently at the far end of the arena, cape held before him, as before. The crowd roared all around her exposed body with glee, and despite herself Alpha Angel felt a deep blush spreading across her cheeks. Though she still had her tall boots and her jacket, without her bikini these did nothing to protect her enormous breasts, which sloshed back and forth between her lapels, nor the delicate pussy that now lay on display between her thighs. But, ignoring the hooting crowds, Alpha Angel nevertheless forced herself to stand tall and spread her legs defiantly apart. 'I must regain full control of the situation' she thought. Despite her near-complete nakedness, she forced a smug little smile onto her full red lips.

"You think you're winning don't you?" she asked him.

"That's because I am, Senorita," the Matador said, examining his fingertips as he waited. "You are a cow in the bull's ring - it is only a matter of time before you are fucked."

"That's where you're wrong," she purred. She rolled her eyes, half-hidden under her long eyelashes. "Typical, of your stupid macho male kind. Your brain instinctively thinks stripping a superheroine weakens her, but it really just makes her more eager to defeat you. Your whole strategy is to wear me down, but instead you're making me stronger!"

"Untrue," he said. "Two lungfuls of gas reside in your flesh."

"Ah! So it wasn't just a stunning agent! The gas weakens me, saps my will, does it?" Alpha Angel asked. Her smirk broadened, and she raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for the free intel, moron." Her eyes glanced briefly down her body, where her nipples had become noticeably erect at the tips of her huge, ponderously bouncing breasts, and then back up to him. "And, I assume, aphrodisiac properties as well?" she asked, knowingly. "To wear me down from that end, too?"

"No, none at all. The only excuse for your soaking wet pussy," he said, pointing to the trickle of shining moisture that had just begun to dribble down the inside of her thigh, out of her obviously moistening snatch, "is that you are a dirty, nasty, cock-hungry American slut."

"Ooh!" Angel gasped, eyes darkening in rage. Her body reacted to the comment as if she'd been yet again swatted across her ass. Beside her naked buxom hips, her gloved hands clenched, and she took a single pneumatic step forward.

Then she stopped. "You're trying to provoke me again aren't you?" she asked. And, though her eyes remained afire with scarce suppressed fury, the smug smirk slowly returned to her full red lips. "Good job. It almost worked," she admitted.

Her smirk broadened.

"Almost," she added in a soft coo.

Fists held ready by her side, the nearly naked Alpha Angel began a slow and deliberate advance. Her long booted stride made her big bare bubble-butt sway and jiggle deliciously before the hooting crowd, but she ignored them. Once more, the Matador remained ramrod-straight and statue-still as she advanced, cape fluttering ever so slightly in front of his body.

"What's going to be the distraction this time, Matador?" she purred as she neared him, her pace still measured and deliberate, fists up and wary. "Are you going to claim to have fucked Valiant Valkyrie, too? The Sun Idol? Both at the same time? Do you have more lame photo-shops to prove it?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, American woman," the Matador sighed as she closed in on him. "You are such an amateur. You see, in the sport of slaying the super-cow, there are the little distractions... and then also there are the BIG ones..."

And, once again, as his buxom foe came within a few feet of him the Matador whipped aside his cape... to reveal a tremendous penis sprouting, naked and erect, from his unlashed fly.

"Oh, my Goddess!" Alpha Angel squealed. She stumbled to a halt, her fists coming apart as her gloved hands spread open in shock. He was so huge, his tip swayed back and forth just a few inches in front of her breasts. She gaped downwards, eyes and brain both briefly filling up with the sight of his impossible girth.

Taking advantage of the momentary shock-induced hole in her defense, the Matador suddenly stuck out a foot and swept the startled heroine's feet out from under her. Alpha Angel yelped as she slammed down onto her knees. Her huge breasts sloshed as she landed hard. She cried out in shock... and then became silent, her eyes going wide, as the tip of his huge penis suddenly pressed tight against her quivering lips.

She still had her powers. She was still more than a match for him. But for just a moment she just couldn't help herself. Her mind reeling, her eyes crossed and gazed down the long length of veiny Latin shaft stretching out, seemingly forever, down from his distant crotch to her face... and she whimpered in awe.

"If I was French, I would say, 'bon apetit,'" he said, as her lips quivered moistly around the very tip of his penis. "But since I am Spanish, I will just say... Ole!"

"OLE!!!" the crowd echoed in a roar as, one hand clutched tight at the back of her helpless head and the other lifted high, the Matador slammed his hips down into the kneeling superheroine's face.

"Glllph!!!" Alpha Angel gurgled, eyes wild and wide with shock, as inch after inch of his tremendously thick cock slammed down into her throat.

"The first lance is in the cow!" the Matador announced as he struck bottom. The heroine's lips were wrapped around the very base of his penis, quivering in his pubes. The crowd roared, while Alpha Angel groaned, quivering naked on her knees between his legs. Remaining deep within her for several seconds he milked her with short little back and forth strokes, savoring the press of her hot wet throat all around him. Then he pulled slowly out, inch after thick glistening inch slowly emerging from her quivering lips, until only the tip remained... and then slammed in all the way to the hilt again.

"How are these blows at wearing you down, heroine?" he asked, tauntingly, as he pumped his huge dick in and out of her throat again and again and again. "Are you impervious to these as well?"

Alpha Angel moaned, her brain reeling, as her face got brutally fucked. 'My only chance...' she thought to herself, 'is to make him come quickly...' And so rationalized, the penis-punch-drunk heroine began using her lips and tongue to delicately pleasure the base and tip of her enemy's giant schlong.

"Yes, American slut," the Matador purred, as he felt her tongue gently lapping at him during a pause at the apex of one stroke. "That is what I thought!"

The servile pleasure Alpha Angel provided with her tongue did have its intended effect... eventually. After about forty deep strokes had surged in and out of her. Finally, exulting under the pleasure of both his hard pumps down her throat and her tender laps at his flesh, Matador felt a surge deep in his gigantic balls. Yanking out of the superheroine, he let his penis rest on her outstretched tongue. Head still reeling from the fucking it had gotten, Alpha Angel looked down at in confusion... even as her still-extended tongue, acting of its own accord, caressed delicately against the underside of his dick. That was the last straw. Throwing his head back, Matador howled with pleasure. Behind her mask, Angel's dazed eyes briefly tilted up to gaze up at him, as he towered triumphant over her, then slid back down to look right into the tip of his dick. Moments later, it unleashed a huge and powerful hose-blast of semen, right into those gorgeous, wide-spread orbs.