The Hero and The Sorceress

"Thanks again for doing this."

"Hey, no problem, the wife wasn't expecting me home for another thirty minutes, got out of work early today. Do you want me to drop you here or what, how long will your friend be?"

"Would you be okay taking me to the fourth floor? It shouldn't be more than ten minutes, she lives really close."

James nodded and pushed the button on the ticket voucher, a little golden token came out that he set down in his cup-holder. The gate arm raised and he drove in. There were only a handful of cars parked at the garage on the lower levels, most had left when the typical work-day ended a few hours ago, when they got to the fourth floor it was an entirely empty lot moored in heavy shadows. He backed into a spot facing the entry-way and sat with the car idle.

Tanya unbuckled her seat-belt. "You know, James, I just thought of something that you might be interested in."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"I'm that villainess..." she whispered with a self-satisfied smile.

James chuckled and turned to face her. "You must be jok--" he began to say, but that was when her incredibly soft lips pressed against his mouth. The last thought he had, before his mind melted, was how odd it was that her lips were glowing.

She flattened his head to the back of the seat, fingers twined into the tufts of his brown hair. Her magic invaded his body, crept into every muscle, every cell, every vein he had. His blood became pure heat.

Her magic was strong, but it wouldn't last. She could bend a man's will, make him vulnerable to suggestion, for a time, but the true path to control was in the essence of her victims. She unzipped his pants and let his throbbing member slip through the opening. If she took that essence inside her body, it would create a powerful link that would give her absolute control, even over the strongest of men.

Her fingers moved again, deft and quick, conjuring something gossamer that flooded the cabin with a coruscating light. She probed the depths of his mind, wandered the corridors of thought, dreams and ambitions that were held within all living hearts; she seized his deepest fantasies, the greatest desires hidden within the well of his soul and brought forth illusion. She pulled back from his mouth, dreamy green eyes brimming with excitement for what was to come.

Suddenly, there was another woman in the backseat, she was on the cusp of her twenties, long black hair, silver lip piercing, keen blue eyes and soft, almost gothic features. Her thin arms were draped around James' chest from behind and her luscious, pale lips lingered by his ear.

"You've always wondered what it would be like to have me, haven't you?" she whispered.

James looked in the rear-view mirror and flushed visibly. "Vanessa? Oh my God, never."

The Sorceress smirked, tossed her hair over her shoulder, folded into the seat, on her knees, and then sank full, pouty lips over the tip of his cock.

James gasped.

Vanessa kissed his neck, the metal of her lip ring like ice on his skin.

"Don't deny it, I know you've jerked off to me a few times already, remember when you walked in on me in the shower? You knew it was wrong, but ever since that day you've been thinking about my big, fat tits."

Tanya gripped the tip between her plush lips and sucked. Thin strands of saliva poured down his shaft and soaked the front of his pants.

"No," James rasped, "I've tried to be a good step-father for you, treat you right, give you privacy, make a home for you and your mother!"

Vanessa laid down against the back seat and pulled her top down, just enough, so that her pale, supple tits smashed together in the rear-view mirror. James watched in shock and deeply buried lust, as she squeezed her nipples.

The Sorceress opened up her well trained throat and took him to the root in one, fluid motion. Her nose pressed into the wet crotch of his black dress slacks.

James threw his head against the seat and started breathing heavily.

"It's alright, just watch me, don't think about anything else..." Vanessa whispered huskily. She unzipped her skirt and revealed pale, creamy thighs and wet pink folds. Vanessa spread her legs apart and ran a coquettish hand down her body, following the trail between her big breasts, down to her slender waist.

"You can feel it, can't you? How big and hard your filthy cock is getting for your step-daughter? You know it's wrong, but you can't resist how good it feels to let go of your inhibitions." Vanessa's breath caught in her throat as her fingers touched against her hot clit, she moved in languid, slow motions. "Fuck me, like you've always wanted to."

Tanya's lips squeezed the base of his cock and pulled back, up his length till her mouth formed a cage underneath his swollen head; her tongue circled his sensitive helmet, wet tip running against the underside, bathing him in spit. Once he was coated, she plunged down his length, drawing him into the depths of her throat and back out again.

The image of Vanessa, to James, began to fade, almost as if she were an apparition. The fog in his head was beginning to clear too and he looked down at the blonde in his lap, registering for the first time what she was doing.

"Wait...what are you...? Vanessa?"

The Sorceress hummed and savagely buried his length down her throat. The muscles in her esophagus collapsed around his cock, forming a tight tunnel that squeezed his girth.

Vanessa lifted her fat, pale tits together. James groaned and his eyes closed, trying to fight back the intense pleasure that welled deep in his body, his hips rose from the seat.

Tanya could feel his dick pulse in her throat, he was going to cum, she was going to claim his mind. The thought made her wet.

James came. His screams filled the cabin and echoed outside in the empty parking garage. He thrashed against the seat-belt violently.

Hot cum flooded the back of the Sorceresses' throat and she swallowed, drawing him down into her belly. His mind went blank, like an empty canvas, overwhelmed by pleasure. The Sorceresses' magic made an instant connection as soon as his orgasm abated, his essence the necessary link to complete her spell.

The image of Vanessa faded from the rear-view mirror and James sat calmly, his eyes and expression devoid of any uncertainty, fear, lust or love.

Tanya sat back and wiped her glossy lips against the sleeve of her jacket. She buckled her seat-belt and lifted her hand, no longer worried about subterfuge. The pulse in her palm had grown soft, this little excursion had been a necessary evil, but it had brought her further away than she liked.

"Drive," she commanded.

"Yes, mistress," James said, his voice thick and heavy.

He put the car in drive and followed the path back out to the street. They sat in complete silence. James maneuvered in and out of traffic with mechanical precision while The Sorceress guided him further into town, the pulse growing stronger all the while.

"Pull over here," she said. It was odd, her palm was facing the abandoned park at the edge of town. It had been closed mostly thanks to a lack of funding from the city, was that where Ironhand, the shining beacon of justice, lived?

James pulled over to the sidewalk at the northern edge of the park and sat, waiting for instruction. He turned off the engine and the car's headlamps. His mistress outlined the plan and he listened in placid silence.

* * *

Ironhand sat in his lair, deep underground beneath the abandoned park; there were rows of computer screens against the clean, steel walls, and the constant chatter of a police scanner humming in the background. He was investigating one of the many recent crime-scenes that had struck the city of Riverton. This one in particular, was interesting...it had all the hallmarks of a typical gang shooting, but a number of criminal investigators had suggested, in official documents no less, that it was bizarre. For one, a brother had killed another brother, that itself, was unheard of for a number of reasons.

First, in a town this bad, the underworld relied on blood relatives to keep the peace, there were generations of crime families behind the scenes, organized and essentially running small empires in Riverton. Large sections of the city had been taken by these crime syndicates and by and large, each family kept to their own; sure, there were the occasional mishaps and territory disputes, but those were quickly dealt with in the most gruesome ways imaginable. To kill a brother, a family member, in a city like this would be asking to have your territory stripped away by a neighboring family. It was the greatest display of weakness you could show in this town.

Second, the video testimonial from the living brother was heartbreaking. You could see it in his eyes that he didn't understand what had happened. They were sunken and hollow.

Third, there were recurring elements within these criminal testimonies: a beautiful woman, no memory of the event, and lapses in time. These three elements had come up in multiple cases he'd investigated, it couldn't be coincidence. There had to be someone new at work in the city, a villain, or villainess, he hadn't come across yet who was responsible for this.

Ironhand sat back in his chair and put his hands on his head. He looked up and happened to see a young woman run across one of his cameras. He sat forward and moved the image to his main view-screen. That was outside, by the looks of it. A well dressed man was chasing a woman through the abandoned park, a domestic abuse issue or was this something more nefarious? He shot to his feet and donned a red mask that outlined his jaw and hid his face from view. He ran to a platform elevator and struck one of the buttons. Why had they come all the way out here? The elevator began to rise to the surface.

At the top, a large stone, set into the grass, split down the center; the elevator platform emerged through the opening and sat flush with the ground.

"Help," a voice cried off to his right.

Ironhand broke through a line of tangled overgrowth and hauled into a full sprint. His skin-tight, midnight black suit made a cloak of shadows in such dark, stormy conditions. He was a hundred yards away from the man.

Seconds ticked by, fifty...twenty. She screamed again and fell to the ground, white blouse stained by the rain and grime.

Ten. The man raised a knife, the sinister metal gleamed.

Two. The woman raised her hands to shield herself against the oncoming blow.

Ironhand struck. His fist an unstoppable force, the man's chin a poor immovable object. His body thundered across the grass and into the brush, bouncing hard against the ground before coming to a dead stop underneath a tree.

"Are you hurt?"

The woman choked back a desperate sob and lowered her hands. Either the rain or her tears made the corners of her eyes dark with patches of running mascara, he couldn't tell, but he guessed the former since she was also shivering.

"N-no..." her voice quavered.

She got up, white blouse soaked with rain and patches of mud that ran along the sides. "Ironhand?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. You're safe now, he won't ever try to harm you again." Ironhand turned to look at the unconscious man underneath the tree and missed her sudden movement.

He reacted, head snapping back to her, but that was when her lips caught his own in a deep, wet kiss. She folded pleasant, plump curves against his body. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively and held her tight to his chest. It was like kissing a cloud, her lips were so soft and plush, delicate, almost as if the faintest touch of wind would carry them away.

He looked into her eyes and what he saw there wasn't a woman afraid, it was a hunger, a lust, a need for power and control. He wanted to push her away, but his body simply stopped responding.

His mind put together the pieces in those first few moments of frozen horror: the criminals with memory lapses, the random killings, the testimonials, a new player at work in the city of Riverton, two people at a deserted park that hadn't had visitors for years...it was a trap.

She guided him backwards until his legs struck a long stone bench underneath the bough of a tall, oak tree. He fell onto the cold surface with her on top. Her massive breasts bulged against her wet blouse. After a painful eternity, she pulled back and stared down at him with a faint smirk.

"I never thought I could capture you so easily, Ironhand." She pulled his mask off and tossed it to the ground contemptuously. With a wave of her hand, her magic lit the dark and coalesced around her body. In an instant, she was that same, beautiful, green eyed woman from the bank.

His eyes went wide in recognition and she laughed, voice husky and rich with amusement. "I'd love to take a few more minutes to gloat, but we have a lot to do."

The magic lit the shadowed canopy again and bloomed to a white flash of light that surged along her lovely body. Again, she changed, her short hair grew to long waves, her green eyes turned to a cold blue and her white blouse stretched into a blood red dress etched with thin black lines. A smooth, silk covered hand came to rest on the side of his cheek almost affectionately, she drew a knife with the other hand and held it up in front of his face.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you," she purred?

He tried to force himself to move, to react, but his body wouldn't lift so much as a finger. Somehow she had paralyzed him, but more worrying was the intense, throbbing bulge in his tights.

"There's still a chance for you to walk away," he growled. "You don't have to do this."

She threw her head back and laughed. "Does that line ever work?" She snagged the hem of his suit collar and pressed the tip of the knife down into the fabric; the blade snagged and slid down, the fibers of his suit splitting as she did. His bare chest was exposed to the cold drip of rain. She moved down his body with deft skill, exposing more and more of his muscular flesh until she cut the seam at his crotch. His thick, veiny cock bobbed in the air.

"My name is The Sorceress," she whispered. "But soon you'll only know me as mistress." She hiked up the hem of her dress and straddled his hips. "I've been waiting a long time for this."

The heat of her was extraordinary. She was dripping wet, her excitement evident as it ran down the length of his shaft. In the cold rain she was like a beacon fire - a never ending source of heat that he found himself drawn towards. She threw her dress to the ground to lay next to his mask.

Her huge tits were pale and she had a lean, gorgeous body that looked as if it were carved by the hands of a sculptor. Her palms planted against his muscular chest and she sighed appreciatively as she lowered herself down over the head of his cock. The first inch sank into her and she let out a light gasp of pleasure. Ironhand did too, despite himself. She grinned down at him, her breathing excited as she began to move her hips in a slow, rhythmic fashion.

"You're not even trying to resist me, are you?" She eyed him hungrily and moaned. Her pussy gripped his length and squeezed. The way she moved caused the well-trained muscles of her lower half to grip the whole of him, root to tip, in a tight, burning tunnel.

In truth, he didn't want to resist her. It had been a long time since he'd felt pleasure like this. It was tiring to be good all the time, to save every person from impending disaster while the number of criminals in the city multiplied. For once, he wanted to let loose and enjoy himself, if only for tonight.

The Sorceress was surprised when she felt Ironhand's fingers curl about her hips, he shouldn't have been able to move. Her fluid movements slowed to a crawl and faltered. Had her magic not been enough?

A groan of pure pleasure broke her lips apart as she felt his cock sink into her. He gripped her hips, fingers digging into the skin above her ass, forcing her down. He was big.

"More..." he growled.

Her huge boobs bounced against her sternum and she fell onto his chest. She matched his speed, matched the way his hips moved, when he rose, she fell, when he fell, she rose, their bodies consumed by the heated dance. His lips opened and he caught her nipple against his tongue.

This had never happened before, her body was on fire with fierce need, even the magic that dwelled within her faded amidst her welling desire. Her gloved hands pulled his head towards her mouth and her lips sank heatedly against his.

His desire for her, his need awakened the same within her. Neither of them felt the rain, the cold, or even the caress of magic, they were enslaved to a much more primal force that drove them to act against their own judgment & ambition.

"Oh fuck," Ironhand groaned. "That feels so goddamn good."

He sat upright on the bench and cinched his arms about her waist, guiding her down in short, excruciatingly deep bounces that made his body shiver all over. Her heavy bosom pressed against his chest and bulged out the side of her folded arms.

She moaned into his neck. Her tongue darted out and grazed his skin with no planned destination or purpose, other than to simply taste him.

All too soon his orgasm approached. That familiar tightness in his balls grew to a fever heat and the muscles of his body began to shake.

"I'm going to cum," he yelled desperately, his eyes clamped tight and his head lolled backwards. He couldn't fight against the pleasure anymore.

The Sorceress went ballistic. Her nipples squashed into his chest and drug against his skin. Her hips were like a piston, rising and falling with rapid, fluid strokes that made loud squishing sounds. Her excitement rolled down her thighs and she felt her own body shudder with an impending orgasm. The heat within her stoked to a fiery blaze.

"Cum inside me," she screamed. Her pace slowed to a crawl the closer she came to the edge. Her thrusts grew more hungry, more urgent. Her hips slowed altogether and her mouth fell open.

They came together, hers a bursting flood, his an explosive pressure.

The tension grew and seized their bodies in a frozen torrent of pleasure that seemed to last forever. Ironhand kept cumming, his thrusts short and violent as his body melted against her beautiful curves. She fell into the etched lines of his crafted muscles and screamed against his chest.

They collapsed onto the stone bench together, barely able to capture a breath. They both languished in post orgasmic bliss. She laid against his chest, her mind racing with the words of the spell she never uttered. He held her, his thoughts turning to the crimes she'd never paid for.

"Well..." Ironhand said, his voice a dull rasp, "what the fuck do we do now?"