Mom the Superheroine 03

This was unbelievable! But it was happening – the much smaller Vixenette was brazenly challenging Battler Babe to a test of strength!

"I bet I'm stronger than your mother, Cindy," she giggled girlishly. "Wouldn't you like to see me beat her?"

"That'd... that'd never happen!" Cindy stammered. "Just – just look at the difference between you and her! Come on Mom... you can do it for sure..."

Battler Babe was not so sanguine. She gulped – she was not feeling up to it! This skinny waif... with that hateful arrogant smirk, and those deadly eyes... was intimidating her! She laboriously climbed to her feet, feeling her legs almost give way, sucking in breath as pain lanced through her joints and her throbbing aching muscles. She needed time... time to rest, to recuperate and regain some energy...

But there was no time. She had no choice. She mentally chided herself. Elena had not been enhanced, they had just said? Then... no matter how weakened she was, she could do this... of course she could do this... this ought to be a matter of course, she needed to show outright dominance. The thing to do was to guard against a cheating move, such as a kick to the crotch, or interference from Vixen. Yes, that had to be it.

"You want a test of strength with me?" she asked Vixenette incredulously, still not quite believing it.

"Yes, just strength! Are you afraid to lose, you big blonde cow? Come on already!" Vixenette thrust her open hands forward again emphatically.

Battler Babe knew she ought to accept this challenge with confidence. Already, she felt a bit chagrined at how her hands trembled slightly with trepidation as she reached forward to lace fingers with her rival's daughter. "Come on! You can do this! Just put the pain aside!" she told herself.

"Crush her, Mom," Cindy whispered urgently.

They braced – and began! Battler Babe channelled whatever strength she could through her arms, not holding back – this hateful girl had earned every ounce of the punishment she was going to receive!

Vixenette groaned as her arms, spindly in comparison to Battler Babe's, were quickly forced back. Their chests pressed together. Battler Babe began, slowly, to get a clear advantage. Vixenette's torso bent backwards as Battler Babe bore down on her. But she was grinning through the strain on her face! And so was her mother!

"Look at you, Battler Babe," Vixen said from the sidelines, her voice oozing with contempt. "You're giving it your all, aren't you? You're finding my daughter such a tough matchup?"

Cindy had to acknowledge it as well, biting her lip. Battler Babe should not have to strain so hard against such a skinny villainess! All the same, she was, and was sweating all over, shaking visibly with exertion. How would this play out on the video? They would all see it for what it was: a sign of Battler Babe's weakness.

But if Battler Babe could just win quickly enough... it would still lift her spirits somewhat, and Vixenette at the very least could be put in her place. Cindy decided once again that her Mom needed all the help she could give.

"Go, Mom, go," she began chanting softly, gradually getting louder. "Go, Mom, go. Go, Mom, go."

This chant, much more personal than the earlier one of her superheroine name, really drove home the point for Battler Babe. Despite her superheroine identity, and despite their opponents being correspondingly supervillainesses, it really boiled down to this: Cindy just wanted to see her Mom win. She wanted her beloved Mom to prove stronger than their rivals. And especially, her Mom should not, could not, must not lose to the rival daughter. That could possibly be a future match, between Battlerette and Vixenette, the next generation continuing the feud. But here, Cindy's mother could not lose – not this way.

"I can't let you down... oh Cindy, I can't let you down," she thought.

The adrenalin surged through her body. She took in a deep shuddering breath, making her lats flare. She and Vixenette groaned in tandem as they shifted – she was doing it, she was forcing the hateful little goth girl down. Vixenette's face showed the strain as her back bent, and for long minutes they formed the tableau, every muscle strained to the maximum.

"Just a bit more... an inch more... just a little bit more," Cindy and her Mom both thought. An inch more, and Vixenette's trunk would give out, making her lose her balance and fall onto her knee, giving Battler Babe this much-needed victory.

"This is my last chance," Battler Babe thought, and drew strength from her Cindy's chanting. "Just one more push..."

She flexed – and found, to her mild shock, that Vixenette didn't budge! She realized that her arms and shoulders were numb. Pain was lancing through her back, and throbbing in her belly. Her chest muscles twitched uncomfortably, and her legs were shaking still, her joints on fire. She tried again. The truth sank in – she was running on empty. Her battered body just could not take any more, could not give any more. Her iron will could not compel the impossible from her muscles.

Vixenette's eyes flickered open, and they matched stares for a while. Then, an impish grin flashed across her black lips. She could sense it in Battler Babe's flagging efforts, in the slow creeping defeat she could see in the larger woman's eyes, in Battler Babe's trembling that she could feel now that they were in such close proximity.

"You've nothing left," she whispered. "Have you? You're finished, Barbie. I'll finish you."

Battler Babe could only moan softly. Only her sheer stubbornness was allowing her to remain standing. Slowly, the balance shifted. Inch by inch, moment to moment, Vixenette's body straightened, pushing Battler Babe back.

"No... no..." Cindy whimpered, ceasing her desperate, hopeless chanting and cheering. She could only shake her head, tears in her eyes. She saw all the signs that she had been denying, and she knew – her Mom was practically unconscious on her feet, but was struggling to the very last.

Now Vixenette – small, slim Vixenette – unhealthily thin Vixenette – sadistic, mean Vixenette – pretentious, bitchy Vixenette – had muscled Battler Babe back to even, their hands high up in the air, the smaller pair of arms overpowering the much larger pair. Battler Babe – Barbara Beck, the tirelessly devoted mother, with her lush figure, her selfless love, her civic-minded patriotism – was losing.

With a thump, she collapsed onto her knees. Vixenette stepped forward, her face alight with victory, pressing relentlessly down upon Battler Babe's wrists until she forced Battler Babe's hands down to be level with the shoulders. She had done it. She had subdued the mighty Battler Babe.

"Submit," she said, licking her lips. "Submit to my mother, the awesome Vicious Vixen."

"No, it's all you, honey," Vixen spoke up from the sidelines, smiling with gratification. She sounded almost tender as she said, "You take the victory, my darling. You deserve it."

Her daughter shook her head emphatically. "No way, Ma! You did all the heavy lifting." She gave the poor Battler Babe's wrists a wrench, and Battler Babe sobbed as the pain shot through her trembling, useless hands. "Say it, Battler Bitch! Say it, you big puffball, you cream puff milksop, you damn fucking hoity toity housewife slut! Submit! SUBMIT!"

"I submit."

The voice that came out could hardly be recognized as Battler Babe's own. Cindy had never heard her mother sounding so defeated – never. It was the voice of a once-proud but broken woman. Tears of pain and chagrin were flowing freely down Battler Babe's cheeks.

There was no will left in her to fight. She could not even beat this despicable little girl, who had treated her Cindy so horribly. She could not protect her Cindy. She could not even protect herself.

"Please... let go of me... let me up..."

"Say who you submit to."

"I submit... to Vixen. To Vicious Vixen."

"Who's the winner and loser?"

"She's the winner... I'm the loser."

"Who's the stronger woman? The stronger mother?" Vixenette was savouring this. Her thighs were trembling, and not with strain.

"She is... Vixen... the stronger, better mother..."

And finally, Vixenette released the hold on her hands, and staggered back, her eyes glazed, her legs going strangely knock-kneed. She was cumming. In a flash Vixen was next to her, and they embraced, Vixenette clutching at her mother as the orgasm pulsed its way throughout her body, Vixen looking down at her as tenderly and fondly as any pious mother.

Barbara knelt there, a broken woman. She could no longer be Battler Babe, the strong valorous superheroine. She was simply Barbara Beck. Or perhaps, she was what her nemesis and her daughter kept calling her – Barbie. Or Bitch. She could even not raise her head to look at Cindy, the daughter she had let down.

Cindy's vision was completely blurred with tears. With shame, she tried to ignore the moistness trickling down her inner thighs. It was simply a natural biological reaction, she tried to tell herself, before she tried not to even rationalize it. She didn't want to think about her reaction to what she had just seen. Her mind was numb, her world turned upside down.

Vixen and Vixenette had now turned to presumably wherever the hidden cameras were, and were doing victory poses, holding up each other's arms, presenting each other proudly, flexing together, posing sexily.

"Vixen... Valerie... please let my daughter go now."

Barbara's voice was just above a ragged whisper. She looked up, her face a mess, a desperate pleading look in her eyes.

"And why should I do that?" Vixen responded softly, her gaze hardening as she stood, hands on hips, a dominatrix radiating an aura of power. "Losers don't get to skip the forfeit, bitch."

"I'll do whatever you want... just... just not my daughter. Please. Not her. I'm the one you want... the one you want to humiliate. Don't make her a part of this, I'm begging you."

Cindy's mouth opened in horror but she could not speak. Her breath was catching in her throat.

"You'll do whatever we want anyway!" Vixenette's bratty voice lashed out. "You and her both! She's my personal prize!"

"If you let her go, I'll do anything you want willingly." Barbara's eyes were closed, as if she were speaking with great effort. "Willingly. I'll do it as if I love it. I'll put on the best show I know how. Instead of just... just being a... a cold fish..."

Her voice broke down as the words brought back the old discontent that Steve had expressed before, when their marriage was breaking down. In a moment of anger he had accused her of being a "cold fish" in bed with him. He had apologized for it almost immediately, but it had stung. The reason, of course, had been that she was tired after her busy days and not feeling particularly frisky. Still, she could not help thinking right there, as her mind raced, that if only she had done her duty as a wife, somehow Steve might have survived... and stayed with them. At the very least, he wouldn't have gone off with this tart... and given her the mutagen formula... an improved version, no less...

"It's all my fault, Cindy," she thought brokenly. "Only I should have to pay the price."

"Please, Valerie," she said aloud. "Let me do it. Let me service you and your daughter. Let my daughter go."

"Ma!" Vixenette whined. "I've been wanting to fuck that Cindy's ass all this time!"

"Fuck mine," Barbara said desperately. "You know you want to. You just beat me. I'm yours. All of me. I'll act like it, as long as Cindy goes free. I swear it. Otherwise it wouldn't look as good, with me unwilling."

"Mom! No!" Cindy cried out finally, sounding strangled. She was almost incoherent, her body wracked by sobs. "Why don't you both leave her alone! Take me! Do me instead! I'll do it... just let Mom go, let her rest... she's hurting..."

"Cindy, no... let me do it, I can take it..."

"No, Mom... I'm strong, I can take it... you're still tired and hurting, you need rest..."

"Cindy... I let you down..."

"No, Mom... you'll always be my heroine... always..."

Vixen made a face. "Oh, what a perfectly lovely pair you two make," she snapped peevishly. She decided to seal the deal. Weaklings were in no position to bargain. "I think we'll just take the both of you. C'mon, darling, let me put on your strapon for you."

"Oooh," Vixenette shivered with obvious pleasure. Vixen noted with pride that her daughter did not seem fazed by the heart-rending exchange between their sobbing victims. Good, she thought, no softness in my Elena. She's hard and strong through and through. She'll be a survivor in this cruel world – no, more, she'll be much more than a mere survivor. She will dominate.

They unchained Cindy, whose will had been broken, and made the both of them get down on all fours, facing each other. Valerie and Elena both wore nothing apart from gloves, heels, and two wicked-looking ribbed strapons, huge black monstrosities at least 8 inches long. They took up positions behind their respective prizes – Valerie took Barbara, and Elena took Cindy.

Gazing at each other with incongruous looks of love and affectionate, they began pounding the heroines doggy-style. The smacking of flesh on flesh was accompanied by sensuous moaning, and piteous whimpers, combining into a symphony of sadistic pleasure. Already, the video footage was being streamed – and would be copied, over and over again, and viewed by countless people.

Cindy and Barbara wept – more for each other than for themselves. Their respective tormentors pulled on their hair, jerking their heads back, and forcing them closer together.

"Lick her tears!"

Cindy's tongue flicked out to gather in the tears flowing freely from her mother's face.

"Kiss! Plenty of tongue! Call each other sluts!"

Cindy kissed her mother, wishing there was some way to tell Barbara that this was something she had been wanting to do for a long, secret time. Barbara had her eyes closed, and was stiff and rigid. Cindy's tongue was the one probing, exploring. Barbara's lips softened for a split second, and for that brief moment their mouths melted together, before she stiffened again. But Cindy kept up the kissing, wishing with all her heart that she could transfer her strength to Barbara, just as she might kiss her mother if they were both underwater and Cindy wanted to share air with her.

"I love you, Mom," she thought. Then she decided to whisper it aloud. Barbara's eyes flicked open and she stared, helplessly, at her daughter.

"Don't give up, Mom," Cindy whispered raggedly, even as they were being pounded so forcefully their hanging breasts jiggled, provoking cries of "Look at those udders! You're just a pair of stupid fat cows!"

Barbara could only close her eyes, feeling the tears being squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. Even now... her daughter still had such faith in her... how could she bear to tell Cindy that this faith was misplaced? The reality of the strap-on being shoved so roughly into her, moving in and out of her, denied that Battler Babe was still a woman worth admiring, or a heroine of any stature.

She was confused, her mind and body in turmoil. Cindy's kiss... was so sweet... but wasn't it wrong? Part of her – the staid, dowdy, conservative housewife in her – could not believe what it was she was doing, what she and her daughter were being subject to. Yet, for just a brief moment, her daughter's kiss had been able to bring her out of the situation they were in. She had been able to lose herself momentarily in the sensation of her daughter's pure, unadulterated love. But only for that brief second – then reality had reasserted itself.

This was perversion. Cindy was her own daughter! And they were being forced by their enemies, in front of each other, in this way... this was perversion!

But Cindy's kiss remained the one sweet thing Barbara could cling to right at this moment, so her mind grasped it and held on. She opened her eyes again, and saw that even though Cindy's body was being shaken by the force of Elena's thrusts, there was a look of unshakeable defiance in her daughter's beautiful blue eyes.

Cindy's resolve was tested to breaking point and beyond. By the time Valerie and Elena were done, their victims had collapsed into a sobbing, shivering pile of sweat, saliva, snot and other intimate fluids. They pressed their tear-streaked faces together and clutched each other tightly, trying to gain what comfort they could from each other's proximity.

"Come now, my darling," Valerie finally said, taking Elena by the hand and pulling her up from where she had collapsed in orgasmic bliss. "Our work here is done. The world will never look the same way at Battler Babe again!"

"Or her daughter!" Elena put in, grinning wickedly.

Revenge was so sweet, Valerie thought, as she gazed contemplatively upon her handiwork. No... more than revenge... vindication. The Vixen had been vindicated.

Wait... what was this... a spark of defiance in the eyes of the younger one... Barbie's bitch daughter, Cindy?

"You think you've won," Cindy croaked hoarsely, her voice ragged from the screams that had been forced from her throat during the non-consensual forfeit. "All you've done... is show the world that you can't win without resorting to, to cheating like kidnapping... or not giving your opponent a fair chance..."

"Shut it, cum-slut!" Elena yelled.

Valerie's eyes narrowed to slits. She did not know if the Malta organization would include this portion in the video file, or if they had already stopped the streaming and recording, but she did not like where this was going. They were supposed to have been broken already. The mother was, she could see that, but this irritating daughter of hers was proving inconveniently strong-willed.

"The world can see that I bested your mother fairly, one on one," she snapped. "It's entirely her own fault that she's out of condition, or that she can't box worth a damn, or that she can't wrestle her way out of a wet paper bag. Listen to you... talking about 'fair'... learn this lesson, little bitch. Life isn't fair. And no one knows that better than me and my daughter."

So saying, Valerie walked forth and aimed a kick at Cindy's face. Cindy flinched – but the kick never landed on her.

Barbara had, with a tremendous effort, rolled herself atop Cindy, and the kick from the stiletto had thumped into her meaty shoulder, eliciting a gasp of pain from her. Her protective instinct as a mother had allowed her to overcome her debilitating weakness and fatigue.

"Mom..." Cindy whispered, face to face with Barbara.

Snarling, Valerie drew her foot up and prepared to give Barbara a stomp... but suddenly, the sounds of vehicles drawing up outside the warehouse could be heard. The police had arrived without sirens wailing, probably hoping to catch the villains off-guard, but their stealth was still insufficient.

Valerie curled her lips with contempt. The pathetic Paragon Police Department was never a match for her on any day, but now that she had her daughter with her, she was forced to make a quick escape.

"Come, my love," she commanded. "Let's leave these two losers to their shame. We must leave quickly. Our allies will make sure that this night's work bears sweet, sweet fruit."

"Yes, Ma," Elena replied eagerly. Throwing one last wink at Cindy, she followed her mother into the depths of the warehouse, presumably to find a secret way out and away.

Cindy sat up with some difficulty. She cradled Barbara's head in her arms, paying no attention to the police officers throwing blankets around them and combing the warehouse in a futile search for evidence.

"We're not finished yet, Mom," she whispered over and over again into Barbara's hair. "We're not finished yet.