A Worthy Adversary

Even if she was absolutely naked. Even though it was most the mortifying and shameful experience in the world—to be stripped and pinned down helpless like this, by her greatest and deadliest enemy, after she thought she'd bested him and put him away for good.

She really needed to pee, all the sudden. Real real bad. Tickling under her belly like crazy! She was terrified she wouldn't able to keep holding it much longer. If she wet herself, all the sudden, in front of him, she would probably die on the spot. Or she hoped she would. She would have a heart attack or her head would explode, or maybe both things would happen simultaneously. All three things, rather. God oh God. She had to stop thinking about it. That only made the tickling and burning inside of her tickle and burn worse and worse.

"When I leave here," the professor said, "I'm going to be taking your costume with me. So be ready for that to happen. Start dealing with it now. A trophy—not for myself. It's for my associates, waiting outside to pick me up and fly me out of the country. They will make a great deal of money off that outfit, selling it to some depraved collector. My friends would much prefer that I bring you along as well—they would like to sell your body, the same way. I'm not going to allow that to happen. I told them I would, but it was a lie. You are too special to me. I am going to have revenge on you—you owe me that, and I owe it to you—but I have no wish to see you permanently destroyed or enslaved. So when I leave here, I'll be leaving you behind, right here on this cot. I will reactivate the forcefield, and you will be left naked inside it, when your peers find you and release you, but you shall not be harmed. Just as I promised you earlier. First, though, we must settle the account between us. And we must do it here, before the cameras that continuously record everything that happens in this chamber. I'll also be taking those recordings with me, when I go. They will be as valuable as your costume, or perhaps more so. Once we finish this performance. Capturing you and undressing you made for quite a thrilling spectacle, but our future viewers will want to see a bit more. A proper conclusion to the drama. How we conclude it, I'm going to leave up to you. Two alternatives—pick whichever you prefer ..."

A pause. Somewhat lengthy ... At last he cleared his throat, quite theatrically. "Hmm. You missed your cue, my dear. That was the part where you were supposed to ask me what your alternatives are. Go on now. Ask me out loud."

"What are my fucking alternatives?"

"Only one is fucking, actually. The other is, you blow me. Well, a bit more to it than that. Not much but a little. I shall stand up and you in turn, obviously, shall kneel down before me at my feet and humble yourself. You've never humbled yourself for a man before. A girl like you never would, not willingly. Not even to a man you loved—you wouldn't love any man that would ask that of you—let alone a despised enemy like me. That's why I want to see you do it. For me. That's what will make it so perfect and beautiful a revenge. You'll do more than kneel naked. That will be difficult enough, I know, but then you will tell me that you were a fool to test me. Because brave and beautiful as you are, you are no match for me. I want to hear you say those words, looking me straight and fierce in the eye when you say them, and then you'll take my cock in your mouth and pleasure it until I'm ready to paint your pretty masked superheroine face all over with my semen. To demonstrate my mastery of you. Now obviously that would be a very hard and humiliating thing for you to do. Every aspect of it would be an excruciating torment for you. So if you'd rather not, we can finish things another way. Your second choice, you don't have to say anything at all, I will just bend you over my lap and spank your bare ass, and then, once I feel like you've taken enough of that, I will fuck you. Doggy style, on this cot. You'll take it like a bitch. In fact while it lasts, you'll be my bitch. But again, you won't have to say anything to me, as it occurs—you won't have to make any embarrassing admissions in front of the cameras. It won't be as total a submission. You won't be giving anything up to me—it will only be an act of taking. And I won't come on your face, if we do it that way. I shall come inside of you. Fill you with me, deep as I can reach. Don't worry about getting knocked up, either. My condition—I mean the genetic engineering I self-administered that allows me to become Monstrous—inadvertently rendered me sterile, in the process. An unforeseen side effect. So it goes."

"I thought you promised you wouldn't hurt me. Now you say you plan on spanking me and raping me."

"Only if you don't take the other option. And don't be such a baby about this. I'm sure you can handle a spanking, my dear. It will sting and it may leave some ugly marks on your pretty white butt, for the next few days, but for Heaven's sake, I've seen you fistfight with cyborg ninja dinosaurs, and as I recall, those nasty chaps had retractable bone spikes in their fists, and chainsaws built into their tails. If you were game for that sort of contest, surely you've courage enough to face a bare-bottom spanking! As for the sex—it will be strenuous, certainly. Non-consensual. It is meant to be a punishment, and a ritualized assertion of dominance, same as the spanking. But again I won't be too rough on you. I'm not setting out to cripple you. That's not my cup of tea. I shall endeavor to make sure you are properly lubricated throughout the transaction, for my own comfort as much as yours. In any case, I am of the opinion that no humiliating revenge fuck is truly successful unless the victim is compelled to orgasm, regardless of her reservations. If all one can manage is to tear the girl up inside and make a ghastly mess of her, one is only making a fool of oneself. That's no conquest; there's no art at all to it."

How could he speak of rape as an art? How could anyone let himself go that far over the edge? And what deluded self-aggrandizing bullshit—thinking he could make her come against her will. Never in a million years. The very idea—God, it was so absurd and yet so appalling all at once it made her shudder all over, and clench inside. Giving up that much to your nemesis ... You couldn't help but imagine what that would feel like—it would never ever happen, but God it would be shattering if it did, if it could. The ultimate disgrace. You couldn't recover from an experience like that, could you? No way in Hell. It would haunt you the rest of your life and drive you nuts.

"You are evil," she said, "Not psycho, either. Not insane. Just evil. An evil shit. That's what you are."

"Yes I am," he admitted, "Totally and irredeemably. That's why, before I finish, I will be able to make you come for me, if you've the daring and the curiosity to put me to the test again. What do you say? Shall it be that, or the other? Choose your punishment."

"What if I won't? What if I defy you altogether?"

"Then I suppose it will have to be Option Number Two, by default. The first option means you've accepted your defeat and the consequences. The ramifications. The second means you haven't yet—not completely. It means you are still trying to hold out. Still hoping you can turn the tables on me, somehow down the road. Admirable spirit. That won't happen, I'm afraid. In the end, you will face the truth of that. In the end, one way or the other, I will have your absolute surrender and submission."

"Never! Never! Fuck you! Never! I'll die first!"

"No you won't," he said, "and now, my dear lovely Knockout, best and bravest and most beautiful of enemies, I'm going to prove that to you."

3.

When he was putting her over his lap, she wrestled free from him for a minute. Problem was, after that, she had nowhere to run to. Even if she kept just dashing around and around the cot in circles, keeping out of his clutches, the fucking ray guns would eventually blast her down again.

She tried going on the offensive. Tried kicking him in the nuts. All that ended up doing was giving her foot to him. He caught her ankle with both hands, and she couldn't jerk loose again. He wasn't strong enough, however, to topple her over. As much as he shoved and tugged, she just hopped around him on her other foot, in sync with his every move. He couldn't force her off balance. Meanwhile, she was loosening the belt around her wrists with her teeth ... Another few seconds, she would have been able to whale on him again with both fists. And they were too close together just then for the stupid robo-guns to intervene and save his ass that time.

He did a lowdown dirty trick. She would have had him, she would have won ... But since he had her bare foot trapped in her hands, he tickled the bottom of it.

She never saw that coming. It wrecked her, instantly. It was like being electrocuted. She screeched and collapsed backward on the cot. He didn't let go or quit tickling her. When she tried to kick him with her other foot, that only made things worse again. 'Cause he caught hold of that foot too and tickled it as well—using his tongue that time, under her toes.

She squealed and hollered and even begged him to stop, after a few more seconds. Couldn't help herself. "Please! Please! No more! Stop! Stoppit! Oh please! Oh please!" She also lost control of her bladder and peed all over the place. It blasted straight up in the air like a high-pressure lawn sprinkler on a golf course, or a Yosemite geyser!

He stopped tickling her after that—after the spraying petered out—but by then she was nearly unconscious again, her whole body limp. All she had the strength to do was gasp, and whimper a little, when he rolled her over and dragged her across his lap ... sitting on the opposite side of the cot from the one she'd just drenched.

After a long, lingering moment of panting stillness, she woke up to what was about to happen: "No! God! No! Wait!" Having got her over his lap, he seemed in fact to have been quietly waiting for this realization to hit home, and thus energize her once more to resume her struggles and kicks, futile as they remained. "No! Oh no!"

"Yes, yes," he said, "Oh yes!"

Then he spanked her. The first spanking she'd ever received in her life. It went on and on and on. Whap-whap-whappitywhap-whap ... Whap! Whap! WHAP!

She yelped and squirmed and sniveled. She kicked her feet and pounded her fists on the floor under her upside down head. The need to pee came back, the tickling burning squeezing inside—she'd just emptied herself, yet it was still as strong and urgent as before. Not fair. Horrible.

The spanking didn't actually hurt very much. It got worse as it went along, but never to an unbearable degree. What was unbearable—what made her cry and shiver all through it—was only the fact it was happening and she couldn't make it stop. The embarrassment, the anger, and the feeling of utter useless powerlessness—something she'd never experienced before, not like this. Never in her whole life. She was being spanked naked over the knee of her arch nemesis. She'd never before felt like so much of a girl, in the worst possible sense. A little helpless girly girl—weak and silly and stupid and pathetic. It almost made her glad that the professor had taken her entire costume off—she didn't deserve to wear it, since she let this happen to her. She didn't deserve to be a superheroine anymore.

Suddenly he stopped paddling her. Instead, still keeping her bent over across his lap, with her red tear-streaked face drooping to the floor, he started prodding gently between her thighs at her pussy, from behind, with his fingertips. Petting it, poking into it, but only slightly and very softly.

She groaned. It was all she could do. The feeling there, that touch ... Oh God, the way that felt! It didn't feel like it was supposed to. Or actually it did—just not when it was the fingertips of this horrible evil man doing the touching. Using the very same hand he'd just been slapping the Hell out of her asscheeks with. A hand that hurt her butt like that shouldn't also be able to make her pussy feel like this ...

Oh God. God. Oh. Oh no. At least so far she kept these words inside. Still, that hid nothing. He knew what was happening to her. He was watching her toes flex against the concrete each time he prodded inside of her—she didn't know her own feet were doing that—while at the same time his fingers could feel everything he was making her feel. Or the evidence of it. The trembling. The residue. The spillage.

"Ha," he said, "I thought so. I thought you were the type to respond this way. Didn't expect it, did you? You're so wet now. Your punishment made you wet for me. Ha."

That desperate need to pee again—the burning squeezing tickling inside—that wasn't what she thought it was. Not just that, anyway. It was also this, the whole time—a different urge, yet just as desperate and impossible to suppress for long. The scorching wetness he was touching now. And stirring it further, with his fingers. It was arousal. It was lust.

Oh God. Oh no.

How? Why? And what would happen to her now?

But she knew that already, didn't she? Of course she did. Of course. There was only the one answer. This whole entire time, it seemed. It had all built to this moment. It had always been building to this moment between them. The heroine and the villain, captor and captive. This feeling. This realization.

"It can be pretty sexy-feeling to lose, you know," said the villain, "And to be made helpless. Even to be disgraced. Especially to be disgraced, sometimes. It's not just like this for you alone, don't worry. Depends who does it to you, and what you think of them, and how strong the feelings are, positive or negative, or both intertwined. Didn't this stuff ever occur to you, my dear? But I'm sure it has, deep down. We're all the same under the surface. I know what I'm talking about. I speak from experience. A long life's worth."

"Stop that! Don't touch me there! Stop!"

"I won't stop. Why should I?"

"This wasn't—Guhrrh! The deal! You were just supposed to—Ohhhuuhh! Wait! You're just supposed to—Stop that and listen! Hey! Take your fingers out! Right now! You're just supposed to spank me!"

"You know better than that. The spanking was the only the first part of it. Now we're moving on to the next part. The better part. For both of us."

"No! Not like this! You said you'd do it doggy! That's what you said! Gonna make me your bitch, right? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Is that what you want now?"

Of course not, not really. She'd fixed on the notion that the fucking wouldn't feel as good. She might have been right. His cock would be more brutal than his fingers, when he put it into her. He'd lose his poise. Start pounding away heedless like guys always did, when she let them ... She wouldn't take pleasure in it anymore—not like this, with just his hand, the way he was rubbing her now. She wouldn't come. Guys never made her come, when they fucked her. No matter the position—they were always too rough, too fast, too heedless. Always got carried away and spoiled it for her.

So that was how she'd stop him from making her get off. She had to get him to move on to the proper sex. Then she'd suffer again—in the right way. Save her soul.

"Are you done spanking me? If you're done, let me off your lap. My head hurts worse than my butt from hanging upside down so long. Fuck me for real, if you wanna fuck me. Use your cock like a man. If you think you're a man."

"I will in a minute," he said, "Just one more minute. I'm not quite done spanking you yet."

He pulled his fingers from her pussy, thank God—then started slapping her some more. Only he didn't slap her asscheeks this time.

This time, he slapped her right on her pussy.

She came. "AHHUUHH!" Her pussy sprayed again, when she did. Not as much as when she was tickled, but still. "Uhhuuhhn. Uhhuuhhn. Uhhnn."

"How was that?" he asked her.

Took a minute or so before she'd got her breath back enough to answer. "I hate you. I hate you so much."

"I know."

"You were right about me, too. I did have a crush on you, like a schoolgirl for her teacher." Why did she say that to him? Because she couldn't hold it back any longer. All her barriers inside had all come crashing down. "It tortured me so much. I practically worshipped you. And then I found out you were evil. I wanted to die. I still want to die. How could you do this to me? How could you reduce me to this? I've fought so hard. I've fought as hard as I could and it's never enough. It's not fair! You have so much power over me! I can't do anything about it, whatever I try! Oh God, you made me come. You haven't even fucked me yet and I still let you make me come!"

"Will you kneel for me now?" he asked her. "Will you accept my cock into your mouth?"

"Would you still rather have that from me than the fucking? I guess it hardly makes a difference now. I already came for you, you've already won, and then you'll get to come either way."

"I'll come better if you suck it. If you're looking up at me. If you've surrendered yourself, entirely. That's what I want."

"Fine, you evil fucking bastard. I will," she said, "I'll do it. I surrender. Everything."

"Then show me." He shoved her off his lap to the floor. She pushed herself up on her knees with her bound hands and swiveled around to face him, as he rose to his feet and unzipped his jumpsuit—presenting his cock to her lips.

She had to sit on her heels to get the level right, choosing on her own to do that rather than bending forward. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide as she could to engulf him, but he stopped her, clutching her short bleached hair. "Speak the words first. Rub your pussy while you say them."

She couldn't remember exactly what he'd wanted her to say, just the gist of it. "You won. I lost. I'm a big loser. I challenged you and I guess that was stupid. 'Cause look at me now, about to suck your cock."

"Open your eyes and look at me. Don't stop rubbing your pussy, girl. Do it harder. Harder!"

"Shit. Oh shit. Oh. Ohhooh. Dammit! God damn! You're making me ... you made me surrender to you. Took away my costume and then you made me come for you and you could probably do it again, probably whenever you want. Hell, I'm in your power, you evil fucker. Maybe I always will be. Anyway, here we are. I'm naked on my knees and I'm fingering myself for you and I ... I surrender. I fucking surrender! I surrender! Uhh! Uhh! Dammit! Uhhuuhhnn!"

"Good girl," he said, "Very good." And he fed her his cock, deep as she could take it down her throat, choking her with it.

"Urk! Urk! Urk!"

She only had to hold it there a few seconds, though, before he was ready to pull out and drench her face. He pumped a wide white mask of semen across her face that hid her features far more thoroughly than her domino ever had, bellowing her name as he did.

"KNOCKOUT!"