The car cranked back up again. Her thoughts raced. Now that she was being taken in by these government flunkies, she had to decide what her plan was going to be. Leah never did anything without agonizing over every detail. Taking down The Fireman was a month long endeavor. Now?
Every muscle in her body was prepped for the opportunity to run. Fight or flight, it didn't matter to her, but she knew she couldn't allow herself to be captured.
Or could she?
It was her personal mission to take down these super villains. If they had been breaking the law, she took away their powers. And none of these men, none, were above taking whatever they wanted. If they had been doing good, she would have left them alone, leaving them to the responsibility of their own gifts. But she'd yet to meet even one who didn't simply use his power, no matter what it might be, for his own gain.
But being taken in by these men in black might not be a bad thing. If these men knew that she too was gifted, what was the likelihood that they brought her somewhere with others of a similar nature? After all, it couldn't be easy to house people like her. They couldn't have that many facilities.
Perhaps they believed she was only a seductress, a succubus, something of that nature. And even if they did know the true nature of her powers, she could break out at any time. She was too powerful to cage.
And at the worst case, she would at least get some more information on who was coming after her.
Despite the fluttering of her heart, the desperate desire to escape, she sat silently until the car finally pulled to a stop at some unknown destination.
CHAPTER 3
Leah was jerked roughly out of the back of the car. The men grabbed both her wrists and slammed handcuffs onto them. She took several steadying breaths. Though it was certainly not the men's intent, her body always responded to restraint.
One suited man on either arm, they drug her into the building. She was still blinded by the hood over her face, so the two were guiding her steps. Corridor after corridor she went through, left only to her muffled sense of smell and hearing to put together her surroundings. The smell of antiseptic brought thoughts of a hospital to mind, but it seemed far too quiet to be that.
Finally they paused, and she could hear the sound of keys being entered, then the sound of a door unlocking. The men roughly turned her around, and unlocked her handcuffs. They did not bother to remove her hood. She was shoved inside of a room, tripping and falling to the ground.
It was silent for a time. Then she reached up and removed her hood. She was in a strange cement block room, lined with what she could only assume were one way windows. The only other furnishing in the room was a small bench, a speaker, and several nozzles mounted from the ceiling.
A masculine voice shot through the intercom. “Please remove your clothing and lay it on the bench.”
She chuckled softly. “I'm not that kind of girl...”
A hint of irritation was in the voice as he repeated the instructions. Oh she was not supposed to be enjoying this, nor was she supposed to fight back. But, Leah would do both. After all, why not have vengeance without a bit of fun?
She offered an over-exaggerated sighed and pulled the black dress slowly over her head. She made a show of folding the dress slowly, then removing her high heels. She set them down perfectly on the bench, making sure to drag out the proceedings. She pulled the thigh highs off, those two she took her time folding. She was standing then, in a room where she knew she was being watched and having no idea who was watching, in just her bra and panties. It was thrilling, having no idea who's eyes were feasting on her body. But she would make them work for it. She folded her arms over her chest.
The voice piped through. “Please remove your...”
“Not until I get some answers.” She stared into the window in front of her, wondering where the person, or people, were who were staring back.
The room became silent for a long moment, and she wondered precisely what was happening. Dimly she reached for the fiery power she'd just obtained. It was her first offensive weapon she'd collected. With no training, she knew it would be a dangerous fight, but one she could win. That is, if she chose to.
She heard the pressure of the room change, as the door was opened. In filed two men in full hazmat suits, carrying a pressure washer, broom, and various cleaning supplies. One set his items down and moved behind her, grabbing both of her upper arms and holding her fast. The other one pressed a few buttons and the washer roared to life.
She struggled against him, protesting. After all, it would do no good for them to know how much she wanted and needed to be here. Hell, to someone as fucked up as me? This is just getting good.
The intercom buzzed. “Divest her of her clothes.”
The man who was not holding her unsheathed a long knife. He slowly moved in front of her, the blade moving closer and closer to her face, the threat obvious. She kept staring into that mask, willing herself to see the features there. It was blank to her.
She nodded that she understood what he intended, and what he would do if she disobeyed.
The knife touched the barest edge of her cheek, and trailed downward. The blade caressed her neck, her shoulders, until finally it came to the edge of the bra strap. He slipped the blade underneath, between the strap and her naked skin. A quick pull and the sharp edge sheared the cloth in two. She felt her breath catch.
He slowly traced across her smooth skin to the other strap, once more sliding under. Again he slipped that knife under her strap and sliced. Her breasts, large anyway but having been pushed up to unreasonable proportions for her mission, threatened to spill out of the bra. Both masked men turned to look.
It would seem that was enough to hurry the proceedings. The gloved hand traced down, between her breasts, grasping inbetween the cups. He yanked it away from her skin, once more shoving that blade against her skin, and cutting away. Her heavy breasts fell free. A gloved hand caressed one of them.
The intercom buzzed again. “We do not have time for this.”
Reluctantly, he let her breast fall from his palm. The knife made short work of her underwear, which he tossed to the side. She stood nude then, in a room with two masked strangers and at least one observer. And none realized that she could free herself at any second.
He turned on the pressure washer.
CHAPTER 4
She shrieked as the hot water poured over her naked body. Clearly it wasn't as hot as it could go, that would have scalded her beyond recognition. Instead the water temperature wasn't the problem, it was the invasiveness. They didn't shy from spraying her right in the face, causing her to gasp for air. If they'd been any less skilled, she knew she might have drowned.
It was as if she were a mere prisoner.
He was methodical in his washing, making certain to wet every part of her body, and having his partner turn her so that they could get the other side as well. Then he pulled out the brush and began to rub it all over her, as if she were some sort of car. Suds formed as the harsh bristles dug into her skin. They even turned her around and bent her over, to clean her more intimate parts. It was humiliating to be treated like such an object.
Then the pressure washer started up again and he sprayed down her body, getting rid of every sud. She watched as they flowed down the grate in the middle of the room. But she let them move her, pose her, make certain she was clean.
Finally he cut the water off and turned on an oversized blow dryer. He turned it on her body, reminding her of the hand dryers in public bathrooms. The man behind her kept her pinned through the whole ordeal.
Now, clean, the man released her. She quickly put her arms over her chest, modestly. The other dug through his cleaning supplies and pulled out a bit of clothing. He lay it on the bench while the other picked up what she'd worn before and tossed it in the bin they'd brought with them. The men gathered up all their paraphernalia and left. If they regretted feeling her up during the cleaning, it did not show.
“Ple
ase put on your uniform,” came the voice from the ceiling.
All that had been left for her was a thin, sleeveless white shirt and a pair of baggy orange pants. She frowned. Didn't orange mean murderer in the penile system? She wasn't certain. And where was her underwear? She looked questioningly to the window and asked.
“You are being punished for not removing your own.”
A soft chuckle escaped her throat. She pulled on the pants and cinched them at the waist. The shirt was about two sizes too small for her, and her large breasts strained against the thin material. She wondered if it was really any better than being nude. She made a gesture to the window as if to ask, “satisfied?”
The door opened again and the two men in black who'd first taken her entered. Each grabbed her upper arm in their fists and drug her to her feet. They were not wearing gloves. She suppressed a smile, though her heart leapt in her throat. They had no idea how her power worked.
And she was going to milk them dry.
She suppressed the delight that ran through her system. She could feel them, their normal human powers running through their normal human blood. It would take so little for her to release her power, to make them mere kittens. She gained very little for using it against someone who was not gifted, but it would certainly make them useless.
And it made her plans truly viable. She did not protest as they slipped the cuffs back on her wrists nor when they put the hood back over her face. She did catch one of them eying her nipples that strained through her shirt. A small victory, perhaps, but one she might need to use during her eventual escape.
Finally they stopped, once more keying in a code. Once more she was shoved into a room, falling to her knees. This time they did not bother to remove her hood, nor her cuffs. She felt the door shut behind her.
Then a masculine voice sounded from the far side of the room.
“Well, what do we have here?”
CHAPTER 5
Leah pulled her cuffed arms up and yanked the hood from her eyes. She was in another cinder block room, this one with several benches. Nothing lined these walls, save the thick steel door and a camera pointed down from the ceiling. Two of the florescent lights had already gone out, and another was buzzing and flickering, leaving the room half in darkness.
She was not alone.
A man stood, emerging from the shadows. He stood well over six feet, and his body strained with gifted musculature. His dark skin glistened as he stepped into the light. She judged him over three hundred pounds, not an inch of which was fat.
He was joined by a second man, tanned but Caucasian, also inhumanly muscular. He crossed his arms over his chest, but could barely complete the movement his arms were so large. His eyes sparkled in delight.
“Looks like we've been real good this year, eh Bruce?” asked the dark man.
Bruce shook his head. Both men's eyes did not leave her body, and she could feel her nipples growing even harder as they looked down upon her. She was tall for an Asian woman, since she was half German, but she was still far smaller than either of these men.
“I don't trust it,” Bruce stated, glancing at the camera.
He was an intelligent man. If something was too good to be true, it probably was. If she played this right, her strength would increase exponentially before the evening was over.
Leah said nothing. She took a couple of steps backward, crossing her arms as if to hide her breasts from their lascivious eyes. These men were the kind who took what they wanted. They would not be interested if she gave in too quickly, or perhaps even at all. It was fine with her, she loved it rough. And if she could make them force her? It was all the better.
She wondered if stealing from two men with the same power would double hers? Might as well experiment...
The two of them had lowered their voices, but she could still catch bits and pieces of the conversation. Bruce argued that it was no doubt a trap. When had they ever heard of mixed gender prisons? And his partner argued that there had to be a reason, after all, women had never been shown to be gifted. It was only men. Everyone knew it!
She sunk back onto a bench, as far from them as she could. She drew her knees to her chest, and put her cuffed arms around them in a protective ball. At the same time, she used her innate power to increase the desire in the room. Bruce might not trust it, but he would fuck her. She was certain of it.
The only ones she'd found immune to it had been those who had no attraction whatsoever to her. If there was only a hint, the barest glimmer, she could fan it into the flames of extreme desire.
Finally the dark man turned back to her. “What's your name, girl?” She didn't answer, merely buried her head down into the ball. It always amused her when someone called her “girl,” as her thirtieth birthday had come and went quite a while back.
He took a few steps closer, laying his hand upon her shoulder. She knew then he was hers. She could have him whenever she wanted. But her dark curiosities, well, they always got the better of her. She looked up into his dark face. “Leah...”
He glanced back to Bruce, who shrugged. “I'm Jamal, this is Bruce. Do you know why you're here?”
She raised her head just slightly, squinting up at him. She shook her head.
“Do you understand that Bruce and I are gifted?”
She let fear creep into her features, and tried to jerk away from his arm. He was far too strong for her, but he knew that already. “You're some of the cursed? I don't understand, how did you get brought in?”
He chuckled darkly, and she could already feel the heat growing in his voice. She knew the stories about those who had powers. They treated the world like their playground, taking whatever they wanted and doing anything they wanted to anyone they wanted.
Of course, how impressive could these two be, since they were captured?
“Eh, the government has it's skills. Hell, I think they got some gifted working for them too. At any rate, Bruce and I have been rotting in this cell for months.”
“Thought they'd have killed us by now,” piped up Bruce from across the room.
“Yeah...” Jamal frowned, then turned to Bruce. “Shit man, I figured this out.”
Bruce sighed. “Figured what out...”
“Why they left this defenseless chick alone with us, knowing how powerful we are and how we could do...” he turned back to her, his grin cruel, his body intimidatingly towering over hers. “anything to her.”
Bruce moved to Jamal's side, frowning down at Leah. She could see that as he grew closer, her aura was having more of an effect on him. The drawstring pants did nothing to hide how large he was growing.
“We're supposed to breed with her!” Jamal exclaimed.
CHAPTER 6
Jamal yanked his pants away, pulling out his already massive dick. She had expected creatures who were so muscular to have lost girth between their legs, but that did not appear to be the case. His cock stood proudly above her, a near black color mixed with purple. She watched the veins pulse above her head, and a drip of pre-cum formed from his hole, above her eyes.
He did not ask if she wanted it, no, that was not the way of these men. He simply lowered it to her lips, running it all along her lips.
“Open your mouth.” He commanded. She turned her head from him, as if to refuse. Bruce reached forward and grabbed the cuffs, pulling her forward.
“I think you're right Jamal. Else why would she be restrained?” Bruce pulled her knees away from her chest and let his hands slowly move to her breasts. His reluctance was fading, and her power was keeping him from questioning it. He let his fingertips run over her hardened nipples.
“Open your mouth,” Jamal commanded again, more forcefully. He lay his huge palm on top of her head to turn her to face his dick. She could feel that inhuman strength, just in his hand. She slowly opened her mouth.
He began to shove that massive dick inside her, pushing deeper and deeper inside her throat. Surely he knew how large he was, surely he could see how m
uch smaller she was than he? But it did not matter. He forced himself deeper and deeper in her throat.
“Fuck yes. Ain't had a bitch deep throat me...” He seemed to consider as he shoved himself even deeper, his dick curving at the back of her throat and moving down her esophagus. “Well, ever. Ain't you just a prize?”
Bruce kept exploring her nipples, pulling them, squeezing them, twisting them. He mounded at her breasts through the thin material, while Jamal kept trying to make her take every inch of his oversized dick down her tiny throat.
He was so wide that it was becoming difficult to breathe. She was struggling as he kept exploring, taking small gasps when he would pull out a bit, then force himself back in. That plus the pleasure of what was happening to her sensitive breasts was making her moist down below.
Prey of the Super Villains Mega Bundle: Rough Interracial MMF Menage BDSM Page 3