Daughter, Lover, Superheroine Ch. 08

All she, Barbara, had to do to spare her suffering daughter this painful struggle was to open her mouth and speak. She only had to say the word, and the travail would end -- the contest would be over.

And Cindy would lose.

There she was, unable to draw a full breath, but choking out her appeal to Barbara not to call the match.

"I can... still..." Cindy managed to say, before Vicky braced herself and squeezed, tensing seemingly every muscle in her body, her whole body going rigid as she applied maximum force to Cindy's body with her awesome legs. And her surge of effort seem to go on... and on... and on.

Of course Cindy wanted to assure her she could still carry on the fight, and win -- but even now, her agonized writhing and weak moans of pain were giving the lie to that idea!

But in her eyes... gazing out at her imploringly, mutely, from that pain-wracked face... Cindy was silently, wordlessly begging her not to throw in the figurative towel, not to give up on her just yet.

Which would be the greater betrayal? What was a mother to do? Should she stop the match, and declare Vicky the winner, saving Cindy any more physical suffering, because Mom knew best? Or should she respect her daughter's individual wishes and accept that her daughter was her own woman, making her own choices and accepting the consequences... even if it meant serious injury?

She half-raised her hand. Her lips parted. Cindy seemed to redouble her already flagging efforts. Barbara could see how her trembling legs were straining and straining, every cord of muscle on them standing out starkly, as she tried to overcome Vicky's abdominal resilience before her own gave out.

But her Praetorian sister was still going strong. She seemed to be suffering noticeably less than Cindy. She looked up at Barbara, and her trembling lips curved upwards into a smile as she angled her right arm to show it off better. She was enjoying her impending triumph -- an authoritative, dominating victory it would be, to beat Cindy decisively with arms, legs and torso. Barbara had no doubt Vicky would claim her prize right there, right where Cindy could see it, to rub it in.

Maybe, just maybe... this wasn't a fight Cindy could win. As her mother, surely she should protect her daughter, from pain, from suffering, all of it. The power to do so lay with her. That was a mother's love, wasn't it?

But something stayed her hand. She remembered how, in all her fights -- with Valerie, with the Supa-Troll, with all the others -- Cindy's support of her had never, ever, ever been shaken one iota. Her faith in her mother -- even when her mother felt it to be undeserved -- was rock-solid. Titanium-solid.

In that dark warehouse, from what felt like a lifetime ago, as Barbara had been systematically taken apart by sneering, jeering Valerie and Elena... Cindy had been a one-woman cheering squad, chanting her name, feeding her strength, sustaining her spirit as much as she could.

Not once... not once had Cindy ever wept, in defeatist surrender, and offered submission on her mother's behalf.

She could not do this to her now. She would not.

She lowered her hand and slowly sat back down. She saw how Cindy's strained smile broke across her face, creasing her beautiful sweat-beaded cheeks. She saw how Cindy seemed to get a second wind, how she hunkered down to continue dishing out the pressure while enduring whatever she could.

And slowly, ever so slowly, as the long interminable minutes passed, Vicky began to weaken. The frustration began to show more and more clearly on her face, as somehow, Cindy persisted beyond what should have been her natural limits.

Cindy coughed. Then retched a bit. A trickle of drool came out of her mouth, pooling viscously on the mat. She now lay as if half-conscious, her hands on the mat. She tried to ball her fists, to raise her right arm again in a flex, but she couldn't seem to muster the strength, it appeared.

Barbara's eyes filled with tears. She clapped a hand to her mouth, almost as an instinctive gesture. How could any mother bear to watch her daughter suffer so?

But Vicky was now shaking with pain herself. The strain was now showing clearly on her face. And her right arm was no longer so dominantly flexed.

This was what it had come down to: sheer grit. Trapped in the vise-like clamps of each other's legs, neither of them had any avenue of escape, except the humiliation of crying submission.

And then, suddenly... Vicky arched her back sharply, and gasped. She began clutching and scrabbling at Cindy's thighs.

"Ahh... ahh... I... I... I..."

Cindy's legs had stretched out; the angle had changed just a little, and for a while now Cindy's diamond-hard calves had been pressing inexorably against the small lumps of muscle just behind the lower rib cage -- namely, the obliques and the lower lats. And all of a sudden, the resistance there had crumbled -- perhaps a momentary lapse on Vicky's part, perhaps simply the result of Cindy's grinding her down.

They each held on, for longer than anyone would've thought possible. Finally, though...

"... I give... I give."

Vicky submitted.

They both went limp at the same time, and slumped, sliding apart to lie on their backs, chests heaving up and down. The abrupt shift in their musculature was strikingly obvious -- a sign of just how hard each had been tensing her body. It was as if steel beams had, in an instant, melted into puddles of jelly.

Barbara swallowed. Her mouth had gone dry. At her crotch, though, it was like a flood welling up behind a dam. She felt slightly light-headed.

Slowly, Cindy and Vicky recovered. The exertion had taxed even their immense recuperative powers. They had dished out the damage to each other as only superheroines could.

Cindy looked to be in worse shape than her opponent -- but in her tired eyes was the light of hard-earned triumph. Against all the odds... she had won.

And Vicky, propping herself up on her arms, looked over at her counterpart and smiled. "You won. Well done, Cindy... well done."

It gladdened Barbara's heart immeasurably to see Cindy return the smile. "Well-fought," Cindy managed to grunt. They both reached clumsily for each other, to clasp each other in a sisterly embrace. Barbara felt herself suffused with a deep joy.

Vicky gave Cindy a peck on the lips, and jerked her head in Barbara's direction, with a knowing wink. "Go on... take your prize this round."

Cindy nodded, but held out her hand wordlessly.

Vicky understood. She took hold of Cindy's wrist. They both looked at Barbara, with loving smiles. Then ceremoniously, Vicky performed the ritual of the loser, raising Cindy's arm high in the air.

Battleborn 1, Conqueress 1!

Barbara was supposed to have done that herself, but she felt as if she could hardly move without squelching. Her labial lips were already drenched, as were her inner thighs which she was pressing together.

Cindy clambered over, her face ablaze with eagerness despite her fatigue. She took hold of Barbara's knees, and pushed them apart forcefully. The sudden sensation of openness, of the rush of air on her moistened skin, elicited a gasp from Barbara's lips. It almost felt like an impact.

"I did it for you, Mom," Cindy whispered, gazing up at Barbara adoringly, before diving in face-first, plastering her lips to her loving mother's dripping pussy. "Mmm... mmm..." she moaned, eyes closed in blissful enjoyment.

Barbara clutched the edges of the bench tightly, and went stock-still, as she felt the orgasm building up rapidly. She would try to give Cindy more time, though, for her prize, so she would try to hold it off for as long as she could.

Vicky was sitting up and gazing at Cindy's back, with a strange look of tenderness in her eyes. She caught Barbara's eye, and smiled, making as if to stretch herself sensually. But then she seemed to think better of it, and instead crawled over to recline beside Cindy, putting her hand on the small of Cindy's back.

Again, with a mother's intuition, Barbara knew Vicky was making what for her was a huge concession -- instead of stealing Cindy's thunder, by having Barbara climax while looking at Vicky posing, she was graciously letting Cindy have the full prize, as she deserved, instead of stealing it literally behind Cindy's back.

This was as she had wanted it to be, among the three of them. All this was just right. Affectionate rivalry, sensual competition -- an antidote to the bitter rancor that might otherwise have prevailed.

And she was so, so proud of her daughter, her strong, brave, wonderful Cindy. She was so glad she had made the right call after all, no matter how hard it had been. If she had called it in Vicky's favor, letting Vicky be the one to eat her out to a shattering orgasm now, Cindy would have been crushed. She had decided to trust her daughter to be strong enough to overcome, and this had been the right thing to do, she knew it now.

She could no longer hold it in -- Cindy's tongue and lips were too skillful. The quakes of pleasure exploded from their epicenter -- her clitoris -- and her entire body jerked and shook like a marionette, until she was sobbing with joy and crying out for Cindy to stop, because it was feeling too good to be of this world.

Then as she swayed unsteadily from side to side on the bench, Cindy looked up and smiled, licking her wet lips. She grabbed Vicky by the shoulder, looked her rival in the eye, and dove in for a full kiss, which Vicky reciprocated.

But this passionate lip-locking had another purpose -- Cindy was pushing forcefully with her tongue, smearing Barbara's pussy juices all over Vicky's mouth and inside as well. She was cementing her victory, letting Vicky taste Barbara's fluids as part of the cocktail formed together with Cindy's own saliva.

Finally they broke the kiss, moaning and panting.

"I'll let you have that one," Vicky managed to say. "But now... you're going down, sister."

"We shall see, but don't count on it," Cindy replied resolutely. "This is one strength test you won't win, Vicky!"

They both rose to their feet, still a little wearied by their exertions, but they were both made of the same stern stuff -- already, their strength had almost returned in full.

Once again, they came together to stand toe to toe, crotch to crotch, chest to chest, forehead to forehead.

"Alright, Vicky. Time to settle this."

"Let's show our Mother who the stronger daughter is."

Barbara stood up as well, feeling a little unsteady on her feet. She swallowed hard -- her throat had gone dry again. Her heart pounded as she saw how Vicky and Cindy slowly laced their fingers together, with their hands still down at their sides, and then slowly raise their arms together. The slow, sensual movement caused their muscles to undulate in ways that made Barbara's thighs clench reflexively.

"Prepare to be conquered." This from Vicky.

"Give it your best shot." Cindy's rejoinder.

Their lips were so close that they were almost touching. But for now, neither was interested in kissing. Their gleaming muscles began to tense up in readiness for their last contest of strength and supremacy.

Barbara put a hand on both their backs. They shifted slightly, adjusting their footing, bracing themselves.

Then she said "Go!" and took her hands off, both at once, to start them off.

They both threw themselves fully and heedlessly into it. No more cautious probing -- each of them was striving from the get-go to defeat the other with overwhelming force. Each, however, was herself a nearly immovable object.

With racing heartbeat and clammy palms, Barbara watched raptly. They seemed so evenly matched.

Then her keen eyes caught a telltale tremor that ran through one of their bodies, and with a despairing cry, one of her daughters began to lose...

[TO BE CONTINUED]