Valiant Valkyrie vs the Boarman 11B

Valiant Valkyrie licked her lips, and moaned. A squirm ran through her voluptuous impregnated body. Then, slowly, she nodded.

"Of... of course ..." she said. "And, ah - which villainess is this exactly?" she asked.

"Uh.... good question," the Boarman admitted. He was slightly slower on the uptake than usual for once, given that whichever blonde it was he wasn't stroking had hit on a particularly delicious way to use her tongue. Lifting his hand from the other blonde's head, he raised it up towards his console.

Upon the bank of screens before him, to the right of Valiant Valkyrie's gaping face, lay another monitor. It was currently displaying the interface of a curious program. Several different files were open on it at the same time; each was laid out the same way. In one, the latest imaging data on Sun Idol's growing blessing was overlaid upon a depiction of her own swelling belly as she stood for inspection. It revealed the little fetus growing inside her was a very healthy girl. Beside her, the Boarman was idly toying with a couple different versions of the logo to go on the chest of a shapely black bodysuit - which had the working title of Royal Sol. Upon another window, he had footage of Vestal eagerly nursing her own new baby boy - beside which was the broad-chested model for the future Royal Vee. Further back, it was apparent that the Boarman was already idly toying with designs for whatever was produced from the two just-tamed heroines who knelt at his feet.

Bringing his hand up to the screen, the Boarman waved his hand across it - and then paused. He turned his cowled head back, ever so slightly - and made sure the two sidekicks wheeling Spartina away were no longer in eyeshot. Then, he turned back. With a gesture, he minimized his costume design interface, and brought up a new one.

"It's," he said, studying the new screen carefully, "uh... High Heel and Silver Star. Yes, they've escaped. Quite the terrors."

"Ah," Valiant Valkyrie said. "I.... I have always heard blondes are uniquely effective again, uh, lesbians," she said. She squirmed, and then sighed. "Consider them sent," she conceded.

Beside her, Sun Idol and Daring Diva heaved heavy sighs - making their enlarged breasts rise and fall in their reinforced and expanded bras. Then, squirming, they seemed to decide they needed to contribute to the conversation.

"I... I must say," Daring Diva said, "it is remarkable that you have such an extensive intelligence network you can anticipate your villainesses' moves so far in advance."

On the other side of Valiant Valkyrie, Sun Idol gasped, and nodded in agreement. "It is really quite impressive," she said, stroking her belly - as if glad she at least got knocked up by such a smart baby-daddy.

The corners of the Boarman's lips twisted up. "Well, that it is, ladies, that it is," he admitted. "Now if you don't mind, I'm quite busy..."

His hand moved to close the call. But at this, all three beauties moaned - and then sat bolt upright upon their bed.

"W-wait!" Daring Diva gasped. "Maybe, if it's not too much trouble, you could stop by and visit us some time?"

"Yes-yes," Sun Idol agreed. "We.. we would cook you a most delicious meal, we promise!"

"And... and wait upon you, all night lo-" Valiant Valkyrie started to plead, desperately.

But, it was too late. With a smirk, the Boarman had already cut the feed.

Back in his own base, the Boarman sighed. The live view of Valiant Valkyrie and her two comrades had been replaced by what he had been watching before making the call. This was his favorite episode from the latest three superheroines' attempt to police Broodhaven better than he could. Having been convinced there was no other way to save their captured sidekicks, the three gorgeous blondes had been lured into a high-stakes game of strip-Twister with the notorious Jet Twins... which, upon the screen, they were in the process of losing very badly. Sitting back, the Boarman enjoyed the slurps of his two latest blonde super-conquests for a short while. Then, he swung his head idly over to the other screen.

With the sidekicks having departed, and the two blondes at his feet never raising their heads above cock-height, there was no Beachport heroine able to see its contents.

The screen bore a list of a dozen or so entries - the top half-dozen of which had had large green checks beside them. The last checked entry on the list said 'Jet Twins: Sidekick Hostages.' Below that, was 'Heel & Star: Prison Break.' Several more scenarios remained un-checked below - with tentative dates beside them.

Scrolling his eyes up to the very top of the list, the Boarman's smirk broadened. There, at the very top, the very first checked entry read: 'Dark Prizm: Tip Off to Case.' Just above it, at the top of the screen, appeared the bright red title 'Super-cunt Bait.'

Perusing the screen, the Boarman chuckled.

"Yes," he said, idly. "Yes, it is remarkable just how much more intelligence I have... than you stupid super sluts!"

Then, throwing his head back, he began to laugh. His laughter boomed and echoed off the high ceiling of his lair, and across rank after rank of trophy cases already filled with skimpy Beachport bikinis, arrayed before him. It rolled down across the buxom bodies of the two freshly-tamed blondes, kneeling at his feet. They moaned softly, blushes appearing upon their cheeks. But, with no idea what he was laughing about, the two freshly-tamed superheroines just kept on obsequiously sucking his dick - while thick streamers of the Boarman's cum ran down the insides of their thighs.

THE END