Chapter Eleven
October 24th, 12:21 AM.
Just then, the barn door creaked. Jackson dropped the cell phone to his side and turned around. Sure enough, the door had opened, maybe just an inch or two.
"Clayton?" Jackson said. He stepped toward the door gingerly. "That you Clayton?"
He peered out of the crack of the door into the night, shaking his head. "Hey Clayton," he said. Erin watched him open the door and step outside, keeping one hand on the other barn door.
Clayton barreled past Jackson and into the barn. Thrown messily on his shoulder, with her arms and hair hanging down his back, her boots and legs hanging down his front, and her jean-clad butt riding high in the air, was Margot.
Erin grimaced. "Oh no," she said, quietly. "Oh no."
Clayton dumped Margot's limp body onto the table so that she rested awkwardly on Blue Lynx's mask and belt. Her hair and clothes were disheveled, her jeans caked in mud and grime. Her slack arms hung from either side of the table. Her head slumped to on side, and Erin could see her face. Her eyes were shut and her tongue was slightly hanging out.
Erin shivered. "Is she... Is she...?"
Clayton wiped the sweat from his brow. "Not dead," he said. "Just having a little nap."
"Shit man," Jackson said. "What took you so long?"
"She's crazy," Clayton said, nodding at Margot. "Had to chase her through the damn woods. Even came at me with this." He pulled a taser from his pocket.
Jackson laughed. "Wiley bitches, these two."
"Yeah," Clayton said. "But I got her real good."
"We're doomed," Erin thought. Margot was, realistically, her last hope. She had tried to tell herself that the Blue Lynx could escape, could save the day as usual. But her bonds hadn't given a millimeter even after all of Erin's efforts. And how her face was exposed, and it was just a matter of time before Hammerson knew Blue Lynx's most closely guarded secret.
And who knew what would happen after that?
"Tie her up," Jackson said, pointing at the rope on the floor. Clayton grabbed the rope and moved toward the table. He pulled Margot's arms up above her head, raising her sweater up and over the small bump of her belly, and then began to lash her wrists to opposite corners of the short side of the table.
"What happened here?" Clayton asked.
"Nothing much," Jackson replied. "As you can see, I took off her mask."
Clayton looked up at Erin. She tried to drop her face. "Oh," he said. "I didn't notice."
"Yeah, I'll be damned if I can't figure out who she is," Jackson said. "Something about her's just so damn familiar."
"Right," Clayton said perfunctorily. He was mostly focused on lashing Margot's booted ankles to the two remaining table legs.
"You came in just as I was getting ready to take her picture," Jackson said. "Actually, do you mind holding her head up so I can get a good one?"
"Sure thing," Clayton said, finishing his final knots, leaving the unconscious Margot bound spreadeagle. He walked behind Erin and pushed his fingers hard against either side of her head, forcing Erin's face to look up straight.
"Guys, listen," Erin said. "I'm begging you. Please. I'll help you out. I'll do anything for you. Just don't take my picture."
Jackson smiled and held up his phone. "Sorry, bitch."
"No, wait!" Erin said. "Why would you want your boss in on this? I thought we had something, Jackson." She was desperate now, casting her words out like darts, hoping something would stick. "Come on. Wouldn't you rather just have this be our little secret?"
Jackson stared at her, and then dropped the phone to her side. Erin let out a sigh.
"I do like that there submissive talk from you," Jackson said. "Turns me on."
He dropped the phone to the ground. His eyes twinkled with a evil gleam.
"Oh shit," Erin thought. "Did that do it? Did I convince him?" It couldn't really be that easy, could it? But what was he doing now...
He was suddenly on top of her, all over her. His hands on her hips, her back, her ass, her breasts, her arms, her ace. Kissing her neck, licking her neck, nuzzling his face into her chest. Pressed close against her so that every one of Erin's squirms delivered an electric jolt to his crotch.
"Cut her ankle ropes," he muttered to Clayton in between fast, harsh kisses.
"But," Clayton said. Jackson stamped on the floor.
"Come on, do it!" he said.
Clayton mumbled something to himself, and then pulled a knife from the pocket of his overalls. He grabbed hold of Erin's swinging, shaking legs and sawed through the ropes binding her boots together.
"She's too weak to fight back," Clayton laughed, gripping Erin's thighs and bringing them toward his groin.
Clayton looked on, glumly. "Hey," he said. "How come you get to fuck her?"
"You can have your turn later," Jackson spat. "Go fuck her friend, okay?"
So Clayton turned around and moved toward Margot, who seemed to be waking up.
Erin thoughts were a wash. How. Why. No. She was powerless to stop Jackson's hands. And Jackson was right. Her legs were in too much pain to be of much use in kicking. She was beaten, a hanging piece of meat, a spandex-clad sex toy. And now she watched from over Jackson's shoulder as Clayton climbed onto the table and straddled Margot.
"Stop! You have to stop!" she cried.
"Just shut up," Jackson said. He quickly turned around and picked up some duct tape. He tore off a strip hastily and pressed it to Erin's lips, and then rolled the tape toward Clayton.
"Gag her," he said, and Clayton picked up the tape.
"MMMMM!" Erin said. "MMMPHH!"
Jackson laughed. "I do love that sound."
And Erin could only "MMMPH" and watch as Jackson grabbed either side of the "V" on her costume and pulled, creating a small tear in the spandex. He pulled again, harder this time, and watched the rip wind down Erin's body, revealing first the the center panel of her burgundy bra, and then eventually her smooth white skin and navel. He kept pulling and pulling with a mad lust, the costume now fraying in places, the central tear opening up to show the lacy band of Erin's burgundy panties. He stretched the spandex further until the entire front had been ripped open. A channel of light skin and dark lingerie now coursed from Erin's neck to her crotch.
"That's more like it," Jackson said. He gripped the spandex near the top of her thighs and pulled up, ripping Erin's costume from the bottom, cutting away piece by piece of Blue Lynx's superheroine dignity. He ripped and teared and laughed until the spandex hung in blue tatters around Erin's creamy skin. Her once beautiful costume was now little more than a ratty, over-sized vest.
Erin hung her head in shame. And then she heard a sound. "MMM!" It was Margot. She was awake Erin tried to get a look past Jackson's head. She caught a glimpse of Clayton, knife in hand, cutting Margot's sweater down the middle. Clayton was opening up the sweater now, grinning, clearly delighted by what he was seeing.
"How's it going over there?" Jackson called out.
"Good," Clayton said. Margot shook her head wildly, tried to look Erin in the eyes as Clayton stuck the knife under the center of Margot's bra and pulled up.
"I'm sorry, Margot," Erin thought. "I'm so sorry."
Margot "mmphed" again and again as Clayton kneaded her bare breasts, squeezing her nipples inbetween his forefingers. He pushed aside the fabric of her bra and sweater, rocking steadily on Margot's pelvis. He then moved back onto Margot's thighs and brought a hand down to the button of her tight blue jeans. He loosened the button and pulled away the flaps of Margot's zipper. Margot squirmed but Clayton's bonds were tight. She was helpless to stop Clayton from pulling her pants down off her sizable ass and leaving them in a bundle around her writhing ankles.
Erin looked on in horror until a sudden stab of pain brought her back to her own predicament. She hadn't even noticed that Jackson was now standing behind her, was now spanking her, hard, on her still panty-clad ass.
"Wearing undies like this," Jackson said, "Means you're a bad, bad girl."
He struck her again, her buttocks jiggling with the blow. "I didn't know superheroines were into kinky shit."
Erin didn't know how any of this followed from her decision to wear burgundy lingerie today, but that didn't matter.
Again, pain. Underneath her panties, her skin was turning red. Her face was turning red, too. This was so, so unbelievably humiliating.
Jackson stopped and placed his fingers on the small of her back. He tore away loose pieces of spandex with his other hand, enough so that the only pieces of Erin's costume remaining were stuck to her arms. He walked his fingers up Erin's spine until they reached the band of her bra. And then, with the speed of an experienced man, Jackson unfastened the clasp. The bra band fell away from her skin and Erin's breasts sagged imperceptibly.
"MMM!" she said.
"Mmm, indeed," Jackson laughed, moving back to her front. "The foreplay's almost over."
Jackson set his hands on the lower part of Erin's ribcage and glided his palms up her body, moving in the space between her skin and her bra, until he hovered a millimeter over the globes of her breasts. He grinned at Erin, then pressed his hands down, clutching her tits and massaging them with bony but assertive fingers. He let the bra ride over his hands as he stroked Erin, pushing her breasts down and around, in wide circles, apart to reveal about an inch of cleavage and then squishing them back together.
Erin shut her eyes and tried not to think. And then she remembered Margot, and opened her eyes again. She saw Clayton pinching Margot's lacy white panties and pulling them away from her body. Then, with the fabric of the lingerie stretched to a near breaking point, Clayton cut through with his knife, so that Margot's underwear snapped around her pussy. Clayton then moved slightly off the table to place his face down in Margot's bare crotch.
"No!" Erin thought. And then she felt Jackson's fingers on her own panties, felt them dance in and out of her waistband and slip around her ass.
"Time for the main event," Jackson leered. And with a slow, steady, two-handed tug, he brought Erin's burgundy bottoms down from her waist and down her thick, muscular thighs. Once the panties had stretched past Erin's hips, Jackson let them go, and watched them slowly slide down Erin's legs and settle around her booted ankles.
Jackson didn't say a word. He just stared at Erin, naked but for her boots, gloves, a bit of spare spandex on her arms, and the bra still sitting loosely on top of her bare breasts. He saw her immense tits, her perfectly formed belly, long, bare legs, and her furry black pubic triangle. He kept staring, licked his lips once, and then bent over to collect Erin's panties from her feet. He brought her underwear to his face and took a long sniff.
He exhaled. Smiled. Dropped the panties to the floor. Remained silent. And then, he unclipped his overalls and let them fall to the ground. He was completely naked underneath.
Erin saw Jackson's body and looked away. He was skin and bones, mostly hairless. But his cock was... Substantial. Yes. Erin had to admit that. And she shook her head and tried to put herself someone else, tried to wake up from his horrible nightmare.
"Come on," Jackson said. And he was back on Erin, his bare flesh touching hers, his cock rubbing against the inside of her thigh. He rested one hand on Erin's right breast and formed the other hand into a gun, and then moved the gun down toward Erin's pussy. He stroked the black fuzz of her public hair; used his thumb to massage the point where her legs met her pelvis. And then, he slid his fingers underneath Erin, began softly rubbing her labia.
Erin gasped. Oh. Oh no. It felt good. She let out a low, hesitant moan. As Jackson stroked her sex calmly but authoritatively, she felt herself become moist. She tossed her neck back, shut her eyes, released the tension in her jaw, and Jackson plunged his fingers into her wet cunt, manipulating her clit with a steady thumb.
Waves of pleasure flooded over Erin, and her long, low moan became a louder, more passionate hiccup. She shut her eyes tightly, rocked her head forward and back, finally looked down at Jackson, his cock fully erect, his hand working hard at her pussy, his eyes squinting, alternating between her surprised expression and her bare breasts. He bent his face forward and began kissing her tits, licking them, and Erin produced a heavy, drawn-out sigh. She was moving into the realm of pure, unashamed ecstasy...
Doubt suddenly hit her. "No," she thought. "I'm a superheroine. I'm Blue Lynx. I can't let this creep do this do me. He won't..."
She heard a series of loud thumps. She looked up from the view of Jackson and her naked body, now glistening with sweat, and saw Clayton, also naked, sitting on top of Margot, his hands on her bare breasts. He was ramming his cock into her again and again, shaking the table underneath them. Margot's torn clothes fell off the table in tatters; her bound legs and arms shook with each of Clayton's thrusts; her expression pulled-back, her teeth gritted, her eyes shut. And a new sound gradually rose over the thumping and creaking of the table... A high, breathy, rapturous wail. "Ah! Ah! Ahhh!" Margot cried, her face now lightened. She was on the road to an epic climax.
Watching this, Erin became so, so wet. Her breath had started to pant; her steady cries of pleasure had increased in volume. And Clayton, who had stepped away for a second, licking the taste of Erin's cunt from his fingers, put one hand on his hard cock and the other on the small of Erin's back and plunged his immensity into Erin's gaping pussy.
The first sensation was pain, but it was almost immediately replaced by a second sensation: unbelievable pleasure. "Ohhhhh..." Erin said, and watched from wet eyes as Jackson pulled her legs around his body. He placed his hands on Erin's buttocks and began to ram his cock into her at patient, steady intervals. Erin felt her jiggling butt in Jackson's kneading fingers, felt Jackson's huge appendage work her from the inside, soon felt his face in her tits, breathing hot blasts of air, kissing her body. After minutes of this, Jackson increased his speed, coming at Erin with fast but forceful jabs, and Erin's voice climbed up until she was yelling out again and again. She wanted to get down. Wanted to touch him. Wanted to touch herself. She shook her body, tightened her legs around Jackson's body, flipped her head back and let her wet hair fall on her naked back. Jackson moved his hands back to Erin's tits and massaged them, never slowing the motion of his lower body, eying Erin's face for the signs of euphoria that she was so generously giving.
"Oh God," Erin thought. "I'm... almost... there..." She felt Jackson's hands all over her, heard his grunting, heard her own high, staccato cries. His cock slammed into her pussy again and again, making her whole body vibrate. She had never felt so good, so completely encased in sex, so alive. She only needed one final push...
And Jackson moved his fingers to her clit again and applied pressure. And Erin halted her breathing and caught a glimpse of Margot. And Margot was convulsing, her naked body rising up to meet Clayton's, and giving out a final piercing, blissful cry, and Erin, watching her friend come, felt all the pressure that had been building up suddenly explode, and she, too, yelled out, and Jackson hollered, and the two of them orgasmed together, and intense warmth spread from her pussy and throughout her body. And Erin was in heaven.
And she was there for several minutes, watching Jackson and Clayton get dressed, seeing Margot shiver and shake on the table, looking down at her body, still soaked in sweat, shining brightly in the dim light of the barn. She smiled. And then he saw her mask and utility belt tossed on the floor in a heap near Margot's torn up clothes. And she saw pieces of her own blue spandex costume scattered around her. And she gulped, and reality slowly came back to her.
"That was fun," Jackson said.
He picked the phone up from the floored and pushed on the touchscreen. Erin frowned.
"Hey wait," she said. "What are you doing?"
"My job," Jackson replied. "I'm sending the boss a picture of your unmasked face."
"What?" Erin said. "But." She struggled against her bonds, kicked her now untied legs around, but her body felt drained from the pain and pleasure of the night. "But I thought we had something, just now."
"Maybe we did," Jackson laughed. "And maybe we will again. But a job's a job, superheroine."
He pointed the camera at Erin's sweaty, stricken, unmasked face.
"Don't," she said. "Please."
Jackson snapped a picture and tapped on the phone. "Sending it to the Boss now."
"No," Erin said. "No, no, no." She hung her head.
"Your superheroine days are through, Blue Lynx," Jackson said, pocketing the phone. And he turned around to look at Clayton.
"Let's go," he said. They walked toward the barn doors and opened them. Just before leaving, Jackson turned around to look at the two naked, bound girls.
"Don't worry," he said. "We'll be back soon for more fun."
And the two men laughed as the left and shut the door on Erin and Margot, two distressed crimefighters who had no one coming to save them.
THE END
Back to the Table of Contents
No comments:
Post a Comment