Superheroine Slut Loses the Arms Race (death trap, bisection, beheading, betrayal, mind control rape)

Busty superheroine Irena Invincible gets a brutal, gory, agonizing lesson in keeping up with super-tech.

Goth sidekick villainess Madilyn Monger gets a lesson of her own.

And a traumatized civilian gets a house call from a superhero who just wants to help - help himself to her tight, wet holes, that is.

Contains death trap, bisection, beheading, betrayal, brainwashing/mind control rape, necro, severed head sex toy, orientation play.

Set in the same universe as Superhero Sluts Snuffed for Profit and Pleasure, Order Up!, Heroine Problems, and Damsel Doe's Deadly Destiny.

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Gang War Ambassador (zako, F/F combat, boot focus)

Naïve Spy's Sensual Slaughter (WMAF, con sex to rape to snuff, necro)

Anonymous Dreams and Equestrian Screams (MLP snuff, various forms of "noncon but they love it")

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My story index.

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Superheroine Slut Loses the Arms Race

 

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“Ultrahigh tech, supers-level tech, is a constant arms race.”

“What do you mean?”

Derek Haight, PhD, known to the press in his alter ego as Doctor Hate, strode through the crowd, followed closely by his protégé Madilyn Monger. Out among the civilian population, he affected a plain grey business suit; Madilyn, of a younger generation, wore heavy makeup and gothic attire that suited her lanky frame superbly.

“There haven’t been any serious increases in mass lethality for decades,” she said.

“Of course not. We could blow up the world in 1945, what more do you want? It’s not about the broad destruction, it’s in the interplay of offense and defense at the very highest level.”

She frowned. “I don’t get your point.”

“What shield are you wearing?”

“Haight Industries PQF Mk. 17E,” she said without hesitation.

“And that’s enough to stop almost anything purely technological up to a Class VI beam, and even a lot of technomagical or purely magical attacks.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“There are supers out there, in this city, with attacks equivalent to a Class IX beam.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Watch your language, young lady. And I am not. My personal protective devices have a layered, ablative system that can take several Class IX attacks before failing. But a Class IX beam doesn’t do anything special to an unprotected civilian that a Class I beam wouldn’t do. Total obliteration in either case.”

“So Class IX attacks are just for hard targets.”

“Exactly,” Doctor Hate said, pausing to pat Madilyn on the head. “Good girl. We aren’t trying to maximize damage against civilian targets, the least powerful villain on Earth can do that. We’re in a tooth and nail struggle against the cream of the crop, trying to ensure that we can keep up with the top tech supers of all time.”

“Hey, why don’t I have a Class IX defense system?” Madilyn protested, her boss’s statement about his own gear sinking in.

“It’s not all automatic. You wouldn’t be able to operate it properly at your skill level. Wasted money, wasted resources.”

She snorted. “Whatever. Why are you bringing this up?”

Before them, the crowd parted slightly. There was a tall, stacked superheroine strutting through the milling civilians. She wore a silvery long-sleeved leotard with some kind of nonsense chemical notation between her tits, silver high heeled boots, and a white domino mask – Irena Invincible, the Chemical Marvel, inventor of the Impervious Potion.

“Most tech supers are basically idiot savants,” Doctor Hate said, pulling a spool of wire from his pocket. “They have one breakthrough, make a handful of potions or gadgets or weapons, and then coast on those for their whole careers. Look at Irena over there.”

He pointed right at the heroine’s mostly-exposed ass. “She cooked up her serum and what has she done since? Nothing. A year ago, she was almost invulnerable while her serum was active, but the arms race has passed her by.”

Doctor Hate tossed the spool over towards the heroine. She turned like a flash, sensing the movement, but the spool popped open and before the busty super-slut chemist could get her bearings, the wire had zipped up to coil in a circle around her body, running between her breasts – the top curve of wire over her left shoulder, the bottom curve snugly between her thighs, right on the crotch of her leotard.

Irena looked left and right, confused, uncertain of where the attack had come from or what its nature was.

“Isn’t she too tough for something like that? Just a constricting wire?” Madilyn said.

“I designed this wire myself and sourced the materials from the Wth Dimension at significant expense,” he said coldly. “Its molecular structure is kept in extended position only by constant application of a weak force screen from the spool. Without the screen, the structure contracts with almost irresistible…”

“Ouch! What is this?!” Irena yelped as the wire loop tightened.

“...force. The lower curve of the loop incorporates a Vellange crystal molecular thread. It will produce intense pseudoheat as the wire contracts, to the point that I calculate it will eventually overpower Irena’s supposed invincibility.”

Madilyn watched, heart thumping, as Irena tried to pull the tightening loop of wire off her body. Irena had a magnificent strength born of her serum’s power, but her fingers couldn’t get beneath the wire that pressed into her luscious, super-tough flesh.

“Get this shit off me! It…”

There was a hiss from between Irena’s legs as the wire flashed red with the Vellange pseudoheat and she screamed, dancing around on her high heels from the unexpected pain.

“Get this thing fucking off me!!” she said, clawing at it. “Help me!”

The civilians backed away, startled, as the heroine dissolved in panic.

“She’s not used to feeling much pain,” Doctor Hate said. “See how she’s jumping? If she was staying calm she’d know that wasn’t doing anything, and she’d be saving her strength and focusing her mind on a solution.”

“Jesus,” Madilyn said. “Her pussy’s smoking.”

There was a thin trail of smoke rising from where the wire was cutting and burning into super-tough, super-sensitive superheroine cunt. Doctor Hate smiled.

“PLEASE! HELP ME!” Irena was full-throatedly screaming now, her mind roiling as she felt her supposedly invulnerable skin giving way to the weird, incomprehensible wire looped around her body.

“Looks like it hurts,” Madilyn said. Her voice was heavy with lust.

Doctor Hate’s lip curled. In his experience, there were two kinds of villainess, the ones that got into it because watching other women being brutalized and slaughtered turned them on, and the ones that got into it for any other reason at all.

Most villainesses were the former.

Irena Invincible’s screams were getting louder and more panicked as the wire penetrated her skin and began to cut in earnest. She toppled backwards, landing on her butt on the ground, thrashing left and right as she tried to free herself from the murderous device.

“Why isn’t it cutting into her shoulder?” Madilyn asked, her mouth dry.

“I already told you,” Doctor Hate said coldly.

“Right, the crystals,” Madilyn said. Her left hand had somehow found its way between her legs, unconsciously rubbing herself through her black skirt. “Fuck.”

“HELP ME! OH, GOD IT HURTS!”

Irena was shrieking uncontrollably, the agony ruling her mind. Her clit had been burned through, her pussy sliced lengthwise, and her nerve endings were overloaded – not to mention her mind.

“The wire’s snagged on her pubic bone,” Doctor Hate said. “Most of her toughness comes from the serum, so the bone isn’t actually that much stronger than her flesh. The biggest thing is her mind. She’s not used to hurting. She’s psychologically overwhelmed.”

“Psychologically overwhelmed,” Madilyn repeated. “Fuck me that’s hot. Why are the crystals only on the lower loop?”

“The Vellange don’t trade with Earth, they’re too offended about their invasion failing. So you have to get smuggled crystal threads on the black market. They’re expensive. And you can see that what I used is enough.”

Madilyn nodded, but she was obviously distracted. Irena was thrashing wildly on the ground, her hips jerking as the wire sliced through her pelvis and began carving its evil way up through her torso.

“Oh God! Oh God! Please! It hu-u-u-u-u-u-urts!” she wailed.

Madilyn pressed her right hand against the front of her black skirt.

“Fuck me,” she murmured again, rolling her hips unconsciously. “How long does she have?”

“Minutes.”

Steam rose from the wound channel as the wire continued to contract and burn through Irena’s meat and organs.

“This can’t be happening! It hurts! Augh, God it hurts!” Irena sobbed, her body flopping uselessly. She had her hands on her broad hips, pushing them, trying to hold her body together, but as the wire progressed up and sliced into one of her lungs, her arms fell weakly away.

“Look at her fingers twitch,” Madilyn said, marveling at the sight. She was rubbing herself in earnest now, her face screwing up as she drank in the doomed superheroine’s struggle for life. “She’s so fucked.”

Doctor Hate, nodded, dispassionately observing both women. “Indeed,” he said.

Bloody froth bubbled out of Irena’s mouth, her horrified begging dissolving into gurgles.

“A normal woman would be dead already. Our friend has only herself to thank that she’s still alive and conscious to experience what must be an exquisite torment.”

“Fuck!” Madilyn moaned, then gasped as she came, soaking her black lace panties. “Oh, fuck, that was good shit.”

The wire loop slowed down as it carved through the bones of Irena’s shoulder. She made one final squeaking sound, then a harsh rattle as the loop closed, completely cutting her in half, from her pussy up through her left shoulder. The two halves of her body slumped away from each other.

There were screams in the crowd, a movement away from the dying heroine – fear that the wire loop might come back to life and attack, perhaps, or just an awareness that the event was over.

“She’s still fucking alive,” Madilyn said dreamily, watching the right side of Irena’s body slowly twitching. “Great work, Doc.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, then snapped his fingers.

With the whirring sound of antigravity impellers, a snakelike hunter-killer drone rose from its hiding place under a chair. It floated up to neck height, scanned the crowd, and darted forward.

A statuesque blonde yelped and dropped her shopping bags as the metallic serpent coiled around her neck.

“Hey, wait, I’m...” she yammered briefly. Then there was a loud click and a series of crunchy wet sounds from her deadly collar, and her head slowly toppled off her neck to clunk onto the floor. Her eyes darted left and right, her mouth moving helplessly as her body stood stock-still, then slumped over, spurting blood.

The drone rose back into the air, and the crowd began to scream, panic, and run.

“Your shield should be quite sufficient for this,” Doctor Hate said. He straightened his coat.

“What, Doc?” Madilyn said, frowning. “My shield?”

The drone had darted again, wrapping around the neck of a sobbing Asian teenager who’d been trying to push her way into the fleeing crowd. The girl just cried, not even trying anymore. She put her hands to her face and slumped down to the floor, sitting there rocking back and forth. When the horrid meaty sounds of her neck being cut through ended, her pretty head came off in her hands, her body leaning forward to cover her dying face.

“I think you have about sixty seconds.”

Madilyn’s jaw dropped. “Doc?”

He looked at her.

Suddenly hyperventilating, she reached down to her belt buckle, where her shield controls were concealed. She pressed her thumb against the biometric scanner. It buzzed and flashed red once, twice.

“Doc, please!” she said, her voice hinting at total panic. Tears welled up in her eyes, then broke free to draw black lines down her white-painted cheeks. “You can’t be serious, you can’t be, you’re not...”

“It appears your biometric scanner is malfunctioning. Are you going to try and repair it, or activate your shield some other way?”

There was that sound again, infinitely more horrible to Madilyn now – the wet crunching and slicing as little blades ate through a busty redhead’s neck, chopping her spine with no great difficulty as her body seized and jerked until her head popped free to hit the floor with a loud crack.

“Do-o-o-o-oc!” Madilyn whined. “Doc, please!”

Her fingers were shaking as she tried the useless biometric scanner again and again. She was shaking with sobs now. “Doc, you can’t, I’m your assistant, I’ll suck your dick every day, please!”

Her crying broke the last “please” into a shaky multi-syllabic jumble, “Plea-hea-heaze!”

“I’ll do anything man, you can buttfuck me, I’ll do...”

Her eyes caught metallic motion, and with a moaning cry of despair, she raised her hands, trying to defend herself.

The snaky drone wrapped itself around her neck, catching her left wrist as well and smacking her hand into her cheek, and she stared at Doctor Hate, her wide terrified eyes meeting his expressionless blue.

Her face was black with runny mascara, screwed up in an expression of total failure.

Her voice was miserable, empty. “Please, man, I’ll suck your d...”

SQPLRNCH!

The drone’s blades ate through her left wrist, her hand flopping to the floor, and Madilyn’s desperate last effort to buy her life with her body ended in a scream of agony and fear. Then the snake was around her neck, and with her remaining hand she beat at it helplessly.

The feeling of the razors biting into her skin and meat hit Madilyn’s consciousness like a hammer, and paradoxically her efforts to save herself stopped completely. She just stood there, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, drool and blood dripping from her lips as the snake slashed through her windpipe, her tendons, veins and arteries, through her vertebrae…

Her cheek twitched twice, and then her head slowly tilted left and fell, a faint rush of air from her lungs blowing out of her neck hole.

“I told you not to call me Doc,” Doctor Hate said. He whistled, and the drone shook itself free from Madilyn’s still-moving corpse. It zipped to Irena and gathered the extremely expensive wire device, then back to Doctor Hate to settle on his shoulders.

He shook his head once at the loss of Madilyn’s small potential, and walked away.

Michael Lands, known as the Impeller in his superheroic persona, stood patiently outside Sarah Hodges’ door wearing civilian attire. He rang the bell a third time, smiling softly. He could feel her mental presence moving towards him. She didn’t want to answer the door, it had only been a few hours since the incident and she’d been too busy crying, but she had gotten up simply to make the buzzing stop.

The door flung open to reveal a dark-haired woman in a blue dress with a pretty, made-up face disfigured by tears, grief, and fury.

He saw, and felt, her rage melt at the open, helpful expression on his face, and the assistance of his bubble of psychic influence.

He was a tallish man, of difficult-to-place age, but he had a very pleasant face and smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Hodges. May I come in? I’m from the Relationships and Community Service.”

“Oh yes, of course. Please…”

She stepped back, and he walked inside, seeming to bring a warm and sunshiny sensation with him.

“I’m here about…”

“My wife,” Sarah said, her voice hitching. “Danielle.”

“Yes,” he said. “Such a sad accident.”

Sarah blinked back tears. “Accident?” she said, confused.

“A terrible accident,” he said.

“I thought… a supervillain...”

She suddenly doubted herself. “Wasn’t it an attack? Someone… killed Irena Invincible, right?”

Michael shook his head, letting sadness tinge his expression and his psychic aura. “Simply an accident. A gas explosion. Poor Irena was present at the mall in her civilian identity. She hadn’t taken her Impervious Potion. It all happened very quickly.”

Sarah’s knees gave out and she sat down on the floor. Michael helped himself to the sofa, set the small case he was carrying on the cushions, and looked down at her, amused.

“Danielle...” she whispered.

“The important thing right now is that we quell all these rumors,” he continued. “Crazy stories flying around are only going to get people worked up, maybe spark some real supervillain copycat attacks, so it’s very important that we head that off before it really starts rolling.”

Sarah blinked, trying to think. That sounded… reasonable. But hadn’t…

“I thought I saw a video,” she said. “Danielle… there was a drone. It c-cut her head off.”

More tears dripped down her cheeks. Michael shook his head.

“A cruel prank,” he said. “You know how advanced AI videos are. We’re actively searching for the people spreading that misinformation. There was a gas explosion. Danielle was beheaded by flying debris.”

He removed his suit coat, tossed it to the side, and unzipped his pants. Sarah stared as he pulled his erect cock out in the open.

“You will help us, won’t you?” he said. “Help keep things calm and peaceful. It’s what Danielle would have wanted.”

Something was protesting in the back of Sarah’s mind as she crawled towards him on all fours. She opened her mouth to say something, and his hand on her head pulled her forward to engulf his cockhead.

He tasted hot and sweat-salty, with a strangely familiar tang, and she moaned as she began to suck him, bobbing her head, feeling his dick hard and velvety on her tongue.

“That’s the stuff,” he said, leaning back on the sofa, his fingers laced together behind his head. “Don’t forget the balls, now.”

Obediently, Sarah pulled his ballsack out of his pants and slurped one of his nuts into her mouth, feeling it pulse, tasting his sweat.

“I love the way dykes suck cock,” he said. “Did you ever step out on Danielle, Sarah?”

She shook her head, mouth full of his balls. “Never,” she said, her voice muffled. “I l-loved her.”

He laughed. “Poor thing,” he said. He knew she was telling the truth. “You have your gold star, don’t you? Did Danielle?”

She nodded, and returned her hot, wet mouth to his shaft, sliding her lips up and down it, then taking his cockhead on her tongue again.

“I visited her before they bagged her up,” he said. “She had a tight little pussy.”

Sarah felt something melt and break inside her.

“You fucked my wife?” she said. “You r-raped her?”

A sick heat filled her heart, overflowed, traveling down her body to pool between her legs.

“It’s what she would have wanted,” he said complacently, and to Sarah him saying it made it so.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “It’s what she would have wanted.”

He opened his briefcase, reached in, and pulled out Danielle’s severed head by her short blonde hair.

“Here, I thought you might like to kiss her one last time.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Sarah said, gratitude exploding in her mind.

Danielle’s face was haunted by terror and wet with sticky white cum, but Sarah eagerly pressed her lips to her dead lover’s, shoving her tongue into Danielle’s slack mouth. She didn’t mind the taste of blood and semen, she was simply grateful for the chance to lavish her love on her poor Danielle.

Michael walked behind her, flipped up her skirt, and pulled the crotch of her lacy panties aside. When he thrust his cock into her wet little pussy, she moaned into her dead wife’s mouth.

“How did Danielle die, Sarah?” he asked. “God, you’re tight!”

“She died in an accident,” Sarah said, her voice slurring, strings of saliva and cum connecting her lips to Danielle’s.

“Good girl,” he said. “You know she would have wanted you to be happy, wouldn’t she?”

“Yes! Yes!” Sarah moaned. “I feel… I feel so happy!”

She was pushing back against him, his hips smacking her ass and making it jiggle. He helped with a hard spank that made Sarah yelp and whimper.

“It’s really very normal for a girl like you to respond this way to a loss,” Michael said. He put his right thumb in her mouth, and she eagerly sucked on it. “Trying new things. Having fun. You are having fun, aren’t you?”

“So much fun!” Sarah said, licking Danielle’s cheek. Michael set his saliva-wet thumb to her asshole and pushed, and she groaned, then laughed almost hysterically.

“I think Danielle would have wanted you to have a lot of fun.”

“Yes! She was so good to me!”

Michael twisted his thumb, pumping it in and out of Sarah’s clasping butthole. “This is a great set of holes you’ve got back here, she wouldn’t have wanted you to waste them.”

“No, I can’t waste them!” Sarah panted. “I have to...”

“You’ll have to let lots of nice men use them, won’t you? Get dressed up in slutty pretty clothes, go to bars, let nice men feel you up?”

“And fuck me!” she agreed. “Stuff me full!”

Her voice was raspy, wavering on the edge of something, and then as he kept fingering her ass she shuddered with orgasm, wailing from the harsh pleasure.

He could feel her spasming around him, could feel the bright spike of her climax in his psychic senses. Nearing completion himself, he pulled out and roughly dragged Sarah’s face towards his dick. With a few hard pumps, his balls contracted, and he shot thick ropes of hot cum all over Sarah and Danielle’s faces – Sarah’s bright with artificial joy, Danielle’s still horrified.

“Oh, fuck that felt good,” he grunted.

“It felt so good!” Sarah said, her eyes glassy, smiling like an automaton as she started to lick Danielle clean. “Oh, I feel so good!”

“And when the press asks about Danielle?”

“She died in an accident,” Sarah said. “And she would want us to be calm and peaceful. And she would have wanted me to be happy like this all the time!”

Michael laughed and pulled Danielle’s head out of Sarah’s grasp. She resisted for a few seconds, then let it happen.

“That’s a good little fuckdoll,” he said. “I might be back.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll do my best to stay happy.”

“For Danielle,” he said.

“For Danielle!” she beamed back at him.