Valiant Valkyrie vs the Boarman 03

"So, first up was cooking," she said. "Next up is another of the core skills needed to turn a self-proclaimed 'bad girl' into a good and proper one. Any guesses which?"

The heroines gasped at this - but said nothing, as they came up to peer into the next window. This one went all the way from the ceiling to the floor. Beyond the window was a model of a large room that was like a cross between an opulent living room and a super-hero fortress. There were broad floors, plush carpets, several leather couches. The walls were lined with bookshelves and trophy cases.

It was also filthy. The floors were dirty, the shelves dusty, the surfaces of the trophy cases smeared with some translucent substance. Food and wine were spilled in several places. There were also sprays and splatters of some other milky fluid, which looked disturbingly gooey and potent, dripping down the bookshelves and puddled on the couch cushions. Pieces of skimpy women's clothing and underwear - a spaghetti-strap dress here, a large-cupped lacy bra there, a tiny thong there - were scattered about the room.

The overall effect was as if an orgy had occurred, in which at least a half-dozen shapely and impressively-well-endowed women had been ridden hard and put away wet, and a great mess left behind as a result.

And within the room were three cosmic women of the group known as the Adharans, clearly identifiable by their distinctive skimpy purple-leather uniforms - which, for good reason, resembled the sort of thing one might expect a dominatrix to wear on Earth. At the sight of those three in particular the heroines' jaws once more dropped, and they stared in shock.

The Adharans had once been the personal guard and eclectic harem of an interstellar supervillain - until they had risen up, taken over his slaving business for themselves, and made of their previous master just another of their chattel. Based out of the so-called Slavers' Star, they roamed far and wide - taking choice specimens, breeding and training them to perfection, and then selling them to the highest bidder. As such, they were one of the foremost thorns in the side of the Star Sheriff and her fellow Wardens - and as a result, the last place Kaja would have expected to see them was in Broodhaven.

"What are they doing here?" Valiant Valkyrie gasped, shocked.

Beside her, Warden Bunny smirked.

"Why so surprised?" she cooed. "You know those stellar sluts are always on the hunt for particularly strong breeding specimens. Is it any surprise that stories of someone legendary for his performance and, ah, potency, might make them hunger to possess him?" Her smirk broadened. "Unfortunately for them, the Boar- I mean, whoever they found here, proved even more, ah, potent than they were prepared to deal with. Much to their surprise, I might add!"

Within the room, the former warrior-beauties, their voluptuous bodies on their hands and knees, were laboring hard to clean up the vast mess that surrounded them. In addition to their skimpy purple leather uniforms, the once-mighty ladies wore little black aprons trimmed with white lace over their sleek and shapely flesh. Like Contessa deVer's before them, these were brief enough to still leave the crotches of their leather panties peeking out below the skirt, and their ample racks shaking about visibly behind the bib within their matching corsets.

Beginning as an eclectic harem, the Adharans had steadily added to their already broad diversity by adopting particularly promising female specimens into their own ranks. Two of the beings kneeling inside were identifiably alien - their sleek bodies bearing blue and purple skin respectively, with one having tiny tentacles for hair, and the other a cute pair of horns. But one of them appeared human, or at least close enough that the gasping heroines could not tell otherwise. That one, based on the crystalline tiara atop her gasping gorgeous face, had even managed to ascend to become one of the War Princesses that led their domineering race into battle.

And as the heroines watched, gasping, one of the Adharans was kneeling down and scrubbing the floor. Another was dusting the bookshelves. A third was diligently scrubbing a trophy case.

Overlooking their efforts were several guards, snickering openly at the sight of the once-proud scantily-clad star-babes squirming and scrubbing before them. At their laughter, the captive beauties gasped softly, their cheeks blushing near to their trademark shade - and kept diligently performing one of the most basic and demeaning duties that they had once trained their own captives to do.

Looming over them, at the back of the room, was a large chair like a throne, on an elevated platform. In it sat a mannequin of a broad-shouldered male figure, his head smooth and faceless. He could well be a stand-in for the idea in general of a new master, on whose behalf the former star-slavers now diligently labored. But hands shivering upon her buxom panty-clad hips, Valiant Valkyrie did her absolute best not to let the observation that he bore an uncanny resemblance to a certain domineering man in particular, of recent and maddening acquaintance, from entering her infuriated head.

After a short time, when all three of the hard-laboring beauties had completed their present tasks, the mannequin suddenly spoke.

"Very good," it said, in a deep rumbling voice that made Sun Idol gasp softly, her body shivering in her straining bikini. "You may approach and show homage."

As one, the three Adharans' faces lit up as if with joy. Staying on their knees, panting softly, they crawled forward and formed a line, kneeling before the base of the throne. Then one by one they bent low before it. The watching guards snickered, as each beauty's voluptuous scantily-clad ass lifted high, wiggling back and forth before them in their skimpy leather costumes. But though they gasped softly at this, the alien beauties did not allow the watching mens' amusement to dissuade them.

"Thank you... for letting us serve you," the purple-skinned star-slaver whispered softly, before pressing a sweet kiss to the statue's right boot.

"We... we hope one day to be allowed to repeat our performance... for real..." the blue-skinned star-slaver said, before pressing her lips to the statue's left boot.

Left kneeling in the center, as her comrades continued to press kiss-mark after kiss-mark onto the toes of the statue's boots, the War Princess gasped. Then she too bent down low, until her face was between his feet.

"We pray," she said, "p-please notice the purity of our devotion... and reward us with your brutal but beautiful attention just... just once more." Then, as her colleagues were already occupying the toes she extended her head up between the statue's feet and turning first this way and that, laid a series of kisses onto the heels of his boots as well.

Still snickering, the guards observed this worship of the seated mannequin for another few seconds. Then, slapping his truncheon against his open palm, the highest-ranking one shook his head.

"Okay, that's enough for now ladies," he said. "There's still much more for you to do." Using his truncheon, he pointed out several more soiled splatters that still marred the luxurious room. "Get to it!"

The three Adharans gasped. But then, sitting back, they demurely nodded.

"Of... of course," the War Princess said, speaking for the other two.

"We live to fulfill our new purpose," the purple-skinned one said.

Turning reluctantly, they crawled back to their stations. In no time the three mighty former star-slavers were once more scrubbing, or dusting, or polishing diligently.

They did so, even though it was useless. Near the ceiling, small robot drones moved back and forth - distributing fresh mess onto any sufficiently clean area they found. No sooner had a once-proud alien warrior finished cleaning up one spray of pearly splatter, than a robot swooped down to discharge a fresh puddle of the same sticky ooze somewhere else. No sooner was one piece of discarded women's clothing tidied away than a drone swooped down, with a bra or thong or lacy chemise dangling down beneath it, and deposited it into a heap somewhere else. On more than one occasion, an Adharan warrior rose up from where she had been crouched diligently scrubbing, admired the sparkling area she had been working on with pride - only to gasp as a moment later a drone swooped down and squirted out an identical mess to the one she had just cleaned just a little ways further away from her.

But despite the futility of their efforts, there were no tantrums this time, as their had been with the Contessa - and as the gaping heroines watched the cosmic beauties crawl over to some fresh bit of mess and return dutifully to their labors over and over, their lithe and lovely bodies moving beautifully as they scrubbed and cleaned, it was quickly clear that there wouldn't be any. Standing to one side, Warden Bunny looked on smugly.

"This... this is disgusting..." Valiant Valkyrie said, hands shivering on her hips. Even as wicked as the ladies across the glass from her were, seeing them reduced to this state sent a strange corkscrew sensation running up and down beneath her belly.

Standing beside her, like a proud traditional mother observing her once-wayward girls, Warden Bunny cocked her head and smirked. "No," she purred. "It's cleaning. The opposite of disgusting."

Valkyrie shivered, and shook her head. "You know what I mean!" she hissed.

"H-how do you keep them contained?" the Sun Idol asked, gasping softly, her own brain fixated on other matters. She squirmed back and forth, broad hips wiggling inside her skimpy Rising Sun bikini bottom. "I thought their kind were... quite powerful," she admitted. This was true - it was not without good reason that the Adharans were normally considered one of the principle nemeses of Star Sheriff and her fellow Wardens - and the Sheriff was one of the few beings humanity had yet produced who were known to outclass the Sun Idol herself.

But, at this, Warden Bunny merely shrugged.

"We give them a cocktail daily that keeps their more annoying energy powers suppressed, so they're really not that dangerous," she said. "But we still don't want them mixing too much with the general population, in case another batch should come to add themselves to our collection. I think their rehabilitation is coming along nicely - wouldn't you agree?" When she didn't get an immediate answer from the still-speechless heroines, she smirked. "Let's move on then," she said. "There's still much to see."

Her pink form turned and strutted on. The heroines followed in her wake.

"What do you think about that, Valiant Valkyrie?" Daring Diva whispered, nodding back towards the still tirelessly-laboring alien beauties. "What... what could make three proud beauties act like that?"

But once more Valkyrie just rolled her eyes.

"From what I understand, those space-sluts spend their entire lives utterly enmeshed in games of domination. Is it any surprise that at the first sign of defeat, they would flip around the other way? They just got careless and overconfident, is all. Once more, when it comes to real superheroines like us - this means nothing."

The other two heroines considered this, and then nodded, reassured.

Marching down the corridor the buxom quartet, with pink-clad Warden Bunny in the lead, approached another window. This was the last one in the current section of the corridor, before it terminated into a metal security door.

"So our first two classrooms were for more practical rehabilitation," Warden Bunny said airily, as her swaying pink-skirt-clad buns led them closer. "But we also have our inmates learn more decorative arts as well - such as inside here."

The heroines gasped at what they saw. Before them, through the window, was a small circular stage... with a long chrome pole rising up its center. This time the one-way window they were looking through was not the only one - the stage was enclosed by four glassy walls, and the heroines' own window let them see into two of them - but all four surfaces were mirrored, so that the inmate upon the stage had no idea who was observing her, or from where.

But once more it was not the setup of the room that primarily shocked the heroines - it was its occupant. The current inmate, dancing lasciviously upon the highly exposed stage, was a gorgeous and incredibly buxom woman. Despite the fact that a significant portion of her traditional costume - mostly a long flowing diaphanous gown, covered in arcane symbols - was already on the floor, she was still instantly recognizable to the gaping heroines. Based on the spiky silver crown she wore, her flowing platinum-blonde hair, and her sharp yet wickedly delicate features, she was none other than the capricious Titania, the magical Queen of Faeries herself.

As the heroines watched, having already stripped off her crystal slippers and her golden girdle in addition to her royal gown, the shapely Queen of the Fae was dancing in a very brief strapless silk dress, her royal crown - and very little else. The crown, like an arch, framed both the top and sides of her lovely face, rising out to several swooping silver spikes nestled amidst her flowing platinum-blonde hair. Her sleek curvy torso dipped and dived, as she bounced and ground, her ass jiggling back against the pole. Occasionally the rise and fall of her skirt, as she rubbed her rounded ass up and down against the pole, gave the heroines a glimpse of a tiny emerald-green thong underneath her skirt.

But most notably, living up to her name, Titania's figure was buxom and bountiful in a way that even few superheroines could match up to. Even as the wide-eyed beauties watched them live through the one-way window, Titania's eponymously enormous breasts seemed to slosh about with a weightlessness that seemed entirely impossible given their tremendous size - and the sight inspired the exact same expressions of stunned yet undeniable jealousy upon the faces of the three superheroines, as their own titanic and superhuman endowments frequently produced upon the faces of merely mortal women.

Meanwhile, through their larger window, the heroines could see into the rooms to either side. Each contained a seating area with a few eagerly watching guards - while they could clearly see Titania they did not seem to be able to see the heroines either. Based on the impressions in their pants, true to Warden Bunny's words, despite the stunning views the Faerie Queen was providing them none of them seemed to have managed to pop a full boner - each was up to half-mast at best. But this did not keep them from watching enthusiastically as she bounced and writhed enticingly before them. But finally, one seemed to grow bored. Reaching out, he turned on an intercom.

"Lose the dress," he told her.

Upon the stage, Titania gasped. Her arms lifted up over her head, and her eyes closed, she shivered - but then shook her gorgeous crowned head, even as she continued to dance.

"You... you are not my conqueror..." she asserted, writhing her regal body in little circles against the pole, while her enormous breasts bounced and sloshed in physics-defying fashion within her straining strapless top.

The guard just smirked at this objection. "That may be true of me... but there are three more cells," he reminded her. "You don't know who is in any of them. You don't want to risk boring you-know-who, if he is watching... do you?"

At this, Titania gasped. She danced for a few more seconds... even as a slight blush spread across her high and regal cheeks. Then she slowly nodded.

"I... I see your point," she said. "Alright... I will do as I am told..."

But she did not do so right away. She instead began by teasing. Lifting up on first one side and then the other, she hoisted her short skirt up until what she had beneath could almost be seen - while looking down, her lips open and gasping, her voluptuous hips continued to sway. Then, abandoning the skirt for the moment, she instead went up to her breasts. Moaning softly, she slowly peeled her enormous jugs out of her top.

As soon as her eponymously gargantuan wonders came out to bounce and slosh naked before them, a chorus of hoots and whistles burst from all the intercoms around her, save the one from the hallway. This caused Titania to gasp, and an even deeper blush to spread across her high royal cheeks - but she did not stop. Body still writhing as if with barely-suppressed passion she guided her dress down her hourglass-shaped waist, over her impossibly broad hips, and down her long yet incredibly curvy legs.

Another chorus of whistles broke out as she exposed her royal thong. In response the proud Titania's head flew back, her platinum hair flashing around her spiky crown, and she let out a tormented moan. Her hands, guiding down her dress, briefly froze and trembled at mid-thigh. But then, with a groan, despite their continued cackles, she bent low - and continued stripping. Soon enough her shift joined her gown and her girdle in littering the floor of the stage.

Bouncing back up to her feet - now clad in crown and thong and very little else - Titania gasped deeply. She backed up until her projecting and now barely-covered round buns were pressed to either side of the shining pole, cradling it between them. Then, with a desperate and humiliated moan, she nevertheless resumed dancing.

The men hooted with pleasure to see even more of the Queen of Enchantment dancing for their pleasure. Then, reaching into their pants, they pulled out wallets. Coming forward, they approached the window. With the press of a button, a small opening down near the floor slid aside, creating a gap. A cloth curtain and enclosed molding around it ensured the inmate still could not see through to determine who it was that was watching her. Thrusting their hands through, the guards held out an array of fives and singles for their dancing prisoner.

Looking down, noticing the little tangle of hands and the bills they were holding, Titania gasped deeply, her large eyes quivering in undeniable outrage that she, an agent of nigh-cosmic power and royal grace, should ever stoop to considering such meager rewards for anything - let alone for the sacrifice of her pride and dignity. And yet, after a few more seconds of staring at them, her scantily-clad body shivering and her open lips trembling, she could not seem to resist. With a deep moan, she suddenly dropped down to her knees. Crawling over, she knelt on all fours beside the little window. Tilting her rounded hip up, she proffered its stunning curves before the waving male hands. Then, reaching back, with her own hand she inserted a finger into her tiny green thong and then peeled it up - and then waited, lips open and quivering, to receive her reward.

Snickering, one by one the guards thrust their hands out and delivered the tokens of their appreciation to her.

Upon the other side of the barrier, Titania gasped, her cheeks blushing deep pink between the sides of her crown, as she watched and felt one meager bill after another get slid along her silky flawless flesh, pushed into place by a grubby and unworthy mortal finger, until it was pinned securely inside her skimpy sacred thong. Then, once all had been delivered, she used her own trembling hooked finger to relax her panty back up against her flesh - leaving a small forest of small bills trapped inside the left hip of her thong.

But her ordeal was not over. Accompanied by more hoots, a matching window on the far side slid open, and more small-denomination bills were proffered to her. Gasping, Titania gaped at them in horror. Then, with an accepting moan, she rose up onto all fours again and, crawling decoratively with her thong-clad ass wiggling high in the air, obediently went and knelt before that one too. With a trembling hand she pulled up the empty side of her thong and let another group of chortling men fill that up too. Then she crawled back to the stage and knelt upon it.