Superhero Sluts Snuffed for Profit and Pleasure (Part 1, tags and art within)
This is a supers story based on an idea from u/Altruistic_Cheetah_8 (Than The Demoness#4477 on Discord), about a superhero world where there is a villainous black market for selling superhero meat and strapping captive superheroes into the rape racks for villainous use. I have had a ton of help over the weeks from a lot of other people on the Discord server as well.
This story includes. . . deep breath: M/F snuff, F/F snuff, laser brain destruction, scissoring, necro, strangling, rape, brain-melting, ryona, bisection, cannibalism, throat-ripping, necro, hard vore, mind break, rape, beheading, anal, necro, branding, and rape.
All of the heroes and villains are original characters of mine. I didn’t check to make sure their names were totally unique among all superheroes, so it’s certainly possible there’s another “Acid Jackal” or “Sex Kaiser” out there in the world of indie comics.
I shared a draft with GuyWithComputer on Pixiv, who I’m working on another collaboration with. He contributed some absolutely wonderful 3D fanart, which I will link below.
Superhero Sluts Snuffed for Profit and Pleasure
“I swear to God this is my favorite store in the entire black market.”
Acid Jackal, Jack to his friends, turned the item he was examining over in his hands – the severed head of a pretty blonde woman, mouth open, tongue just visible in a slutty, ‘Please fuck my face’ expression. He ran his fingers around the domino mask that surrounded her peacefully closed eyes – red, white and blue, with a nice, simple starburst pattern.
Jack himself was a lanky, muscular villain with short black hair and perpetual five o’clock shadow. His villainous costume leaned heavily into the punk, leather and chains and denim, with his stylized acid-green jackal’s head insignia on the back of his black leather jacket.
“This is really Liberty’s Daughter?” he asked.
The proprietor, the half-dog bruiser for whom Disco Maddog’s Discerning Bodyshop was named, nodded, grinning. “She’s the real Libby, or the most recent one.”
It was an arrangement long-since worked out in the metahuman world. Blonde bimbos who could fly and shoot energy blasts were a dime a dozen, so when the extremely merchandise-friendly Liberty’s Daughter died horribly in a confrontation with a villain, it just made financial sense to offer the position, and the domino mask, to a new girl.
It benefited everyone. The hero organizations got to keep their merchandise lines rolling, the public got long-term heroic icons to adore, the starry-eyed new heroes got the hope of moving up in the hero world, and the villainous denizens of the black market got a steady supply of soft, sweet superhero meat. There were probably two dozen famous superheroes who had gotten mangled, petrified, eaten alive, raped into insanity, or any number of other bad ends five or six times, but there was always a bright-eyed young metahuman eager to make her way in the world by stepping into an established heroine’s recently vacated high-heeled boots.
Maddog motioned at the head. “Push the eye button. You’ll like this.”
Flipping the head upside down, Jack pressed a button on the control panel installed on the stump of her neck.
Libby’s eyelids opened slowly, revealing two tight, wet holes. Jack whistled and gave a gentle push with his finger to one of them, feeling the slickness, the faint warmth, and imagining how it would feel to have his cock sheathed in one of the pretty face’s eye sockets.
“Shit, that’s hot as fuck,” he said. “I thought you liked preserving their real eyes? Your pride as a craftsman?”
Maddog’s lips twisted. “It was fucking Laura.”
He pulled out his phone and scrolled, then pushed a button and a video came up on the screen behind his counter.
The footage was amateurish, but Jack could easily make out the sexy, muscular body of Laura Lars, colloquially referred to as the Laser Lesbian, wrapping Liberty’s Daughter in a belly-to-belly bear hug.
The blonde heroine threw her head back, screaming as the pressure of Laura’s super-strength deformed her back, then Laura rushed her at a convenient bus, flattening Libby against it.
This brought them face to face. With her flight nullified by Laura’s tremendous strength and her arms trapped by her sides rendering her unable to throw energy blasts, the blonde could only stare helplessly at the buff, black-haired villainess.
Laura roughly kissed her, grinding her against the bus before pulling back and demonstrating her namesake.
Bright red beams shot out of her dark eyes and straight into Libby’s pretty blue ones, burning through the orbs and carving deep into the heroine’s brain.
Libby shuddered and flopped in her grasp, mind cored out almost completely, and Jack caught the smirk on Laura’s face as she dragged Libby’s twitching corpse to the ground for some good old-fashioned postmortem hero humiliation.
He’d seen her do it to three or four other superheroines, blasting their brains to nothing and then scissoring their bodies as they jerked and writhed. It was hot as shit every time.
Jack whistled again. “Laura’s gotta be the number one hero killer out there now, right?”
Maddog nodded. “She goes through those little tarts like you wouldn’t believe. Top supplier, except that when I get the heads they’re in. . . that condition, and I have to do this amateur skullfucking shit.”
It was a topic Jack had heard Maddog expound on before.
“You know, there’s artistry in taking her real, actual lips, mouth and tongue and turning that into a permanently wet and welcoming toy. A skullfuck toy you just install a premade sheath in a premade hole and you’re done, it’s fucking insulting.”
“Counterargument: It’s also ridiculously hot.”
Jack pushed the button a few more times, watching those long lashes flutter up to reveal the emptiness inside.
“Think I could take her for a test drive?” he said, half-joking.
“Absolutely fucking not,” Maddog growled. “I know about your acid cum, jackass. I was on the board that banned you from the rape racks after you melted that heroine’s guts without paying her snuff price first.”
“That ban was rescinded!” Jack protested. “I’ve paid my debt to society!”
“I won’t let you ruin Libby,” Maddog said, grabbing the head back by her hair. “Why don’t you just fork over a few bucks to snuff some hero cunt, or go to the morgue?”
“I’m not in funds at the moment. Snuffing’s expensive, and I don’t like fucking dead ass that isn’t preserved.”
“HA! Hypocrite! When Hypersaurus bit that little minx Pixielicious in half, you were lining up with the rest of us to rape that ‘dead ass.’”
“Pixielicious was a special case,” Jack said. “Fuck, she was so tight. I wish you’d gotten that lower body, she’d have made such a good toy.”
“Just be grateful Hypersaurus let us all have a go before he ate the rest of her.”
“I wish they’d find a new Pixielicious.” The memory of holding those slender hips and sinking his cock into her tight, clasping asshole while her legs flopped around him was making him horny.
Maddog patted Libby. “Busty blonde rape dolls like this are common as cunt hairs. Do you have any idea how much of the female population has some form of flight and energy blast? And out of that subset, how many of them are hot and bubble-headed enough to want to make it as a professional hero? It’s easy to replace Libby.”
“Praise the dark gods for that!” Jack broke in. “I swear at least half of these heroes are snuff sluts. I’m positive this one was wet as hell when Laura did her.”
Maddog glared at him. “Pixielicious was four foot five with flight, energy shields, limited probability control, and she trailed fucking shimmers in the air when she flew. That combination is so incredibly rare in an adult woman that it’s going to be a decade or two before we see another Pixielicious. They’ll probably spin it as some kind of faerie hibernation so the sheeple don’t realize she was ripped in half by a mutant dinosaur, her corpse raped by dozens of villains, and then eaten.”
“I don’t need a sociology lecture, I just want to fuck that tiny bitch in the ass again,” Jack said. “Stupid dinosaur.”
He looked back at Liberty’s Daughter. “I tell you, Maddog, those eye sockets are calling to me. I’m so tired of busting nuts in fleshlights. I need to find an indestructible villainess who likes men.”
Maddog grinned, showing his deadly canine teeth. “Why don’t you come around back? I have something to show you.”
Jack heard the sound of the saw before Maddog even opened the workshop door. It took a second for all of the component parts of what he was seeing to come together.
There was a long, fit, wonderfully busty woman bound and gagged facedown on a tablesaw, the blade set to bisect her horizontally just below her navel. Bright red hair was visible under a helmet that covered her eyes, and her whole body was shuddering, thighs jiggling orgasmically.
A bored-looking black girl in a villainous leotard was pressing a vibrator hard into the woman’s clit, occasionally sliding a few fingers up the heroine’s trembling asshole.
The saw was cutting into her side as fast as it could, but it was obviously slow going – it had only gotten about an inch into her flesh, and this had apparently been going on for a while.
Slowly, recognition dawned.
“Is that really Lady Drednot?” Jack breathed.
“Yeah, we finally figured out that bitch’s weakness. It doesn’t do anything about her durability, but her super-strength and cannon blasts go away for a while when she orgasms. I got that vibrator from the Mechanical Witch, it’s magitech. This super-slut’s been cumming herself silly for almost a day straight, even after we started cutting half an hour ago. Hell, I think she actually likes the pain, just for the variety.”
Jack lifted his eyebrows, then frowned. “Does it ever seem weird to you how many superheroines’ weakness is orgasms? That sometimes seems weird to me.”
Maddog shook his head. “I don’t give one single fuck, I just enjoy it.” He gripped his crotch obscenely. “When I was more active as a villain, all those hero bitches went fucking crazy for the knot.”
There was a particularly high-pitched scream from Lady Drednot, and Jack looked over to see that the villainess vibing her had managed to thrust her entire small fist up the heroine’s ass.
“Starslivver! Stop that!” Maddog barked. “Don’t stretch those holes too much!”
With a guilty look and a wet squelching sound, the girl pulled her arm out of Lady Drednot’s butt.
“Not that she’s likely to have any real effect on this one, but I can’t have her pulling that on a less durable heroine right before I turn her into a toy,” Maddog said. “Probably ten hours or so of sawing left, fuck me. And then the legs. I’m going to take ‘em off right below the thigh so she’s just ass, pussy and thighs. I’m kind of hoping that with her powers the upper half stays alive and we can take her arms off and turn her into a blowjob box.”
Maddog sighed dreamily and scratched his canine ears. It had been a longtime artistic desire of his to create that indulgence – just a woman’s head and whatever was absolutely necessary of her torso locked in a very special box, her useless bits amputated, given nutrition intravenously, the only thing visible from the outside her mouth. If the brainwashing took, she wouldn’t even need a ring gag, she’d just naturally suckle on whatever you put into her mouth. Total oral luxury, and portable too.
Every time he’d tried it so far all he’d gotten was a mess, but Lady Drednot was so incredibly durable that she might stand up to the treatment.
Jack looked at Lady Drednot’s jiggling backside and rubbed the front of his jeans.
“I imagine a tough bitch like that could stand up to a lot of acid cum,” he said neutrally. “How much are you expecting to charge for that fine ass?”
Maddog told him.
Jack considered, weighing the very high number Maddog had quoted against the very low number in his black market bank balance.
“I have work to do,” he muttered. “Disco, great to see you.”
“Call me Maddog, fucker. It’s not my fault the Seventies were big when I started villainy.”
Acid Jackal ran his fingers through his hair and growled. He was going to have to break into his secret stash for this one. He hated to do it, but he needed money fast. If word got around that Lady Drednot’s famously magnificent ass was being turned into a fucktoy by the phenomenally skilled Disco Maddog, there was going to be no chance that he’d get it. Other villains simply had deeper pockets.
He imagined himself balls deep in the superheroine’s superb asshole and shuddered with lust. Fortunately his relationship with Maddog had always been good. When he’d melted Herabelle’s insides without authorization the dogman had thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen, and even though he’d voted to ban Jack from the rape racks for it, he had also helped get his privileges reinstated later.
When a seriously unscrupulous villain wanted some quick cash, there was one very wicked and very obvious source, and that was selling heroes to the black market. Heroes were valuable on many levels. For one, you could rape them. For another, their meat was fucking delicious, and their bodies yielded numerous highly desirable and useful materials. The Bonemaster was always out for more superheroine bones to apply his unique aesthetic to his numerous gadgets, their skin could be tanned, their bodies could be converted into high-quality sex toys by Maddog and lesser body shops.
Succinctly, superheroes were extremely valuable, dead or alive. And when the risk and prep time required to hit a big name was too much, that left the leftovers, and that meant unlicensed heroes.
Jack, like many mid-tier villains, kept close tabs on a lot of unlicensed hero clubs in his area. One of the most deliciously ironic benefits of the way the heroes covered up their deaths was that plenty of young metahumans saw the profession as something safe, or at least not horribly dangerous.
The TV showed Liberty’s Daughter flying free and happy all the time. It did not show the way the third Liberty’s Daughter had screamed as the Mechanical Witch fed her into a living meat grinder toes first.
Jack flipped through his stash – a binder full of up-and-coming superheroines, mostly organized into little local teams that “patrolled,” did charity events, and occasionally intimidated a mugger. Most of them would never see a real, serious supervillain unless one came for their meat.
His eye was caught by a picture, a printout from a news site, showing three college girls in homemade costumes posing ridiculously in front of a charity marathon sign. Local heroes help out! the headline read.
It was the girl in the middle who’d caught his eye – nice big rack, curvy hips, green body stocking. She had a very particular look to her, one Jack knew well. He ran his finger over the picture.
The girl in green was the instigator. Her two companions were having a fine time, sure, but the girl in green is the one who’d been excited to form a superhero team. It was her idea, Jack knew.
“Green is my favorite color,” he mused, and wrote down the neighborhoods the girls were said to patrol.
The Teen Dream Squad sat in their base, scrolling on their phones.
Angel Eyes, the x-ray vision specialist, yawned. “Hey Kells, get me a White Claw, will you?”
Kelli Nesmith put on a pleading expression. “Come on, Angel Eyes!” she said, pouting. “Call me by my super name while we’re in our base. And you can’t drink when we’re about to go on patrol!”
From a bean bag chair, MacKenzie Moore, also known as Prima Dreama, snorted. “It’s an apartment, Kells,” she said. “I like going around in my costume and all, but this is an apartment, and your name isn’t Jelliette.”
“You two were so into this last year!” Kelli said. “What happened?”
Eden ‘Angel Eyes’ Grace-Monroe furrowed her brow. “Well, last year the Teen Dream Squad were, y’know. Teens.”
“Great thinking, Einstein,” MacKenzie said sarcastically. “You work that one out by yourself?”
“Okay, I concede that the name wasn’t a good choice,” Jelliette said. “But think of all the good we’ve done! All that money we raised for charity!”
“It was a hundred and fifty bucks, Kells. Eden makes more than that on OnlyFans every week.”
Jelliette shuddered. “I wish you wouldn’t use your super costume on that,” she muttered. It probably wasn’t the best look for the Teen Dream Squad for one of their members to be shoving toys up her holes for money online.
Eden rolled her eyes. “Okay, puritan,” she said. “But remember that charity stream the three of us did? We made more from that than all our ‘superheroing’ put together.”
“I did that under protest!” Jelliette said. “And I never took my costume off!”
“You know, I think that remote control vibe under your outfit actually turned them on more than if you’d been naked,” MacKenzie said slyly. Jelliette flushed a deep red.
“I’m going out on patrol,” she said firmly. “Do you want to come with me?”
Eden stretched performatively, her Angel Eyes costume hugging her body. “I guess I can have that White Claw later,” she said cheerfully. “Maybe there will be a kitten up a tree again.”
Once you’d done it a few times, it was surprisingly easy to locate an amateur superhero team patrolling. They tended to get their idea of what ‘patrolling’ looked like from comics and TV – prowling around a city on the roofs, silhouetted against a skyline, posing and peeking around.
Experienced heroes did, in fact, patrol on rooftops. However, when they showed themselves in dramatic silhouette, it was always for a purpose – building the legend, establishing the reputation. Never, ever would a serious veteran hero simply walk along a skyline in full view if she didn’t have a damn good reason.
Of course, it was hard to gain too much experience in this line of work, largely because of people like Acid Jackal, unless a hero had some kind of illicit arrangement with the black market. It sometimes surprised Jack how many publicly upright superheroines were happy to deliver the occasional super-intern to the black market’s rape racks and butcheries in exchange for their own relative safety.
He pulled on his fingerless gloves, flexed his fingers, feeling the hard plates that protected his hands and added weight to his punches. Pointing a finger at a nearby garbage can, he hit it dead center with a jet of acid carefully modulated for its metal construction, and smiled at the precise hole it made.
Jack tied on his mask, a Zorro-esque bandana with his green jackal’s head insignia. He’d actually paid a real graphic design artist to make that logo, although when he started getting some press and she realized what she’d done, she had a very public breakdown on social media. He’d had to snuff her to keep her from embarrassing him, but out of respect for the work she’d done for him, he’d made it quick – a nice garroting, rather than anything involving his acid.
She did wind up with her insides dissolved after death, though – she was cute, and he’d liked working with her, so he’d made an exception to his normal preference against fucking unpreserved dead women.
Shaking his head to dispel the memories, he slapped his crotch to stop the erection growing there and set out on the hunt.
The three college girls were, as he expected, ridiculously easy to spot, traipsing carelessly along the roofs of the city, far from the fragile safety offered by crowds. Jelliette’s body stocking was the bright green of stage garb, not the dull tones of camouflage, and Angel Eyes’ outfit was brilliant whites and blues with silly angel wing motifs.
Prima Dreama, in a military-chic costume with much more subdued colors, was the one he was concerned about. Jelliette had bouncing powers and super-resiliency, although far from the level of Lady Drednot – probably latent stretching powers, if Jack was any judge, which was a potential goldmine. Angel Eyes was rather pathetically limited to x-ray vision, but Prima Dreama, if she wanted it, was set for the big leagues.
Every metahuman, more or less, was blessed with a considerable amount of abnormal athleticism and resilience. A human probably wouldn’t get up if you threw them into a brick wall hard enough to make cracks, but quite a few metahumans could take that and bounce back.
Prima Dreama was on a level above that. She had a very special set of powers – internal telekinesis that gave her shocking levels of physical competency, combined with close-range combat precognition. Jack had the normal suite of minor metahuman abilities, which with his physique meant that he was on a roughly Olympic-athlete level, but if he went toe to toe with MacKenzie ‘Prima Dreama’ Moore, despite her inexperience, she would brutalize him in ways he preferred not to think about. Within the range of her combat precognition, she could probably even stand up to the heavy hitters like Laura, Hypersaurus, and the Sex Kaiser.
Jack didn’t have Maddog’s good relations with the Mechanical Witch. She had a marked dislike for standard-type metahuman males and a deep soft spot for dogs, so Maddog had access to her magitech in ways Jack didn’t.
On the other hand, Jack could certainly get his hands on flashbang grenades. There were plenty of shops in the black market that offered a wide variety of gadgetry, mundane and otherwise.
Keeping his body language nonchalant in case Angel Eyes caught sight of him with her x-ray vision, he followed the three unsuspecting heroines.
Jelliette was bouncing ahead. Angel Eyes trotted to keep up, starting to pick up Jelliette’s infectious excitement, and Prima Dreama trudged behind in her combat boots, sneaking peeks at her phone.
Perfect.
Jelliette and Angel Eyes rounded a corner, increasingly far ahead, and Prima Dreama gave a disgusted sigh and leaned against a wall, peeling off her goggled ski mask, transforming back into MacKenzie Moore.
From one building behind her, Jack tossed very carefully, and the grenade landed just outside the range of MacKenzie’s combat precognition. She heard the clang and started to say something when light brighter than the sun seared her eyes and a sound far louder than a gunshot totally deafened her, the combination sending her reeling to the ground, stunned.
With her powers, he only had moments before she recovered. Jack moved fast, leaping the gap between buildings. He felt the danger as he got within range of MacKenzie’s precognition, but precognition doesn’t help you when your limbs are weak and trembling with total shock. She raised her arms, but he battered them aside, breathed a prayer of gratitude to the gods of evil for her military-style buzz cut, and slid the zip tie tight around her slender throat.
Jumping back out of range, Jack watched warily as MacKenzie realized the predicament she was in. Still blind and shaking, she clawed at her neck as she struggled for breath that simply would not come. She felt the plastic biting into her flesh and lunged to her feet, cracking her head hard against the wall.
Her fingernails dug into her skin, drawing blood as she desperately tried to get her fingers underneath the plastic that was killing her, purpling her pretty face, bulging her eyes and tongue as she strangled without Jack even lifting a finger.
He saw the exact moment her precognition told her she was going to die on this rooftop. There was something pathetic about it, about the way the struggle went out of her, her face shifting subtly from desperation to despair.
Her chest hitched helplessly as she sank back against the wall, tears flooding her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Her fingers still shifted, but they were moving almost randomly now, touching the zip tie, drifting down her body.
Her nipples were hard in her camo tank top, and he saw her hands brush against them on their way down, saw her hips jerk at the contact.
Idly, Jack wondered if the dying girl had her last climax at that moment.
“Swear to fucking God these hero sluts all get off on getting murdered,” he said, shaking his head as MacKenzie Moore made a dreadful wet rattling sound and died.
“Prima Dreama? MacKenzie!?”
Jelliette’s voice came across the rooftops, panicky from the explosion and the realization that her friend was no longer with her. Stealthily, Jack rushed around the roof as Jelliette bounced into view, leaping ridiculously long distances, her healthy bust bouncing in the tight green body stocking.
Jack dipped into a shadow, grinning as Jelliette’s hysterical scream rose with her discovery of the deceased MacKenzie. This was going exactly according to plan. Angel Eyes came running hard after her much faster leader, her sexy curves achingly pretty in her angelically slutty outfit.
He stepped into her path, his powerful arm slamming into her neck as she ran, and he gathered her startled body easily into his arms.
Angel Eyes may have had a certain level of increased athleticism, but she was a thin little college girl and Acid Jackal was six and a half feet of lean, villainous muscle. All her wiggling did was rub her butt enticingly against the erection that Jack could no longer restrain.
Suddenly the urge came to him to abandon Lady Drednot. He wanted to forget it, to rip this little whore’s costume off and stuff his deadly cock into her hot, tight pussy. He wanted to pound her against the roof until she came, the way heroines always did, and then to pump her womb full of deadly acid, ruining her meat for the pleasure of hearing her horrified screams as she died.
With an effort, Jack resisted the urge.
When it came to his finances, in many ways Jack was at a disadvantage. His acid powers were certainly powerful, but they had the unfortunate tendency to render all but the most impenetrable superhero’s body completely useless – and therefore monetarily worthless. It was one of the reasons he’d been forced to develop his physical skills and ordinary gadgetry more than most villains with comparably strong powers.
Against a powerful hero, he might have to accept that and go all out, washing her away with a wave of deadly acid, but against a useless little bitch like Angel Eyes?
Jack held her tightly with his left arm, his forearm between her breasts and his hand holding her jaw, enjoying the feeling of her tits jiggling against him. He stuck his right middle finger in his mouth, lubricating it with acidic saliva, and thrust it into Angel Eyes’ right ear to the second knuckle.
The blonde made a weird noise, her face twisting at the painful and very strange sensation, and Jack pushed again, the acid opening her earhole enough to let his finger shove inside until his knuckles were flat against the side of her head. There was a muffled sizzling sound as he started to pump the unfortunate heroine’s skull full of a carefully calibrated acid.
He’d perfected this technique by practicing on a series of ex-girlfriends until he could perfectly melt the majority of a woman’s brain without ruining her eyes or other valuable parts. It took intense concentration, but if he did it right, the corrosive liquid would burn itself out before causing more harm than he wanted.
He wasn’t sure if it was a downside or an upside, but one of the results of using this weakened acid was that it was slow. He watched Angel Eyes’ face, always fascinated by this part, as the beautiful girl’s cheery mind was gradually turned into liquid mush by his powers.
Her eyes squeezed shut in a grimace, then shot open wide, clear blue and white like her costume. Her nose wrinkled as if she was smelling something unpleasant, and then she stiffened suddenly, her ass pressing back against him like she was trying to get him off through his jeans.
More and more of her grey matter fizzled away into acidic liquid, and Jack barked with laughter as her hands shot down instinctively towards her pussy.
Letting his grip around her body go, he took a handful of her yellow hair and let her sink to the ground, babbling and masturbating through her tights. Experimentally, he started to finger her earhole – there was already plenty of acid in there to finish rendering the blonde totally braindead.
The hole, expanded by his acidic saliva enough to let his thick finger into her head, still felt deliciously tight, almost like fingering a girl’s butthole, except with a hardness under the skin from the bone.
Angel Eyes twitched against the ground, her hips popping up and down arrhythmically as a tiny part of her surviving brain kept telling them to grind against her fingers. Her juices were soaking her tights, her whole body shuddering when Jack finger-fucked her skull, and then she opened her mouth wide. Her tongue lolled out, liquified brain matter flowing past her slack lips to puddle on the ground. Proudly, he noted the complete lack of damage to the lips and tongue; he’d modulated the acid perfectly. Maddog was going to flip his lid over this beauty.
Jack kept fingering her head for a few seconds, enjoying the continuing twitching of the tight young body that had captivated so many viewers online, but he still had work to do. And with two out of the three heroines dead and out of the way, that meant he had the luxury of capturing Jelliette alive.
Jelliette was scratching at MacKenzie’s neck, whimpering as she tried to get her fingers under the zip tie. She thought of using a key to cut the plastic, but her body stocking didn’t have room for pockets, and distantly she cursed herself for prioritizing sex appeal over practicality.
There was a part of her that was already repeating: This is my fault this is my fault this is my fault
There was a part of her that already knew MacKenzie was fucking dead.
She didn’t even register the footsteps at first, half-drunk on adrenaline and emotion, but Jack’s cruel laughter made her spin around, snarling and ready to fight.
Jack did not have anything like Jelliette’s mobility, so he knew he had to keep her from running, and the easiest way to do that was to make her want to kill him.
He walked towards her, a fist full of Angel Eyes’ beautiful blonde hair, dragging the brainless heroine behind him. Smiling, he lifted her by the hair, showing Jelliette her still-twitching face, acid-melted brains dribbling past her lips.
“Eden!” Jelliette screamed. “I’ll save you, I’ll. . .”
Slowly, the vacant stare in Eden’s blue eyes, the slack jaw, penetrated Jelliette’s awareness.
“What did you do to her?” Jelliette said, voice shaky with rage, balling her hands into fists. “What the fuck is that in her mouth?”
Jack smiled. “I melted her brains with acid,” he said. Tilting Angel Eyes’ head to the side, he gave her a shake, and more liquid brain squirted out of her right earhole. “Sorry to tell you, but this slut is fucking done.”
“She wasn’t a slut! She liked looking pretty and. . . and. . .”
“Ooh, gotta stop you there,” Jack said. He hoisted Angel Eyes higher with his left hand and grabbed one of her knees with the right, spreading the girl’s legs so Jelliette could see the wetness between her thighs.
“You should’ve seen her masturbating while I pumped her empty head full of acid. Sure seemed like a slutty thing to do.”
He laughed, patting Angel Eyes’ braindead cheek. “You super-cunts are all so horny to be slaughtered.” Jack pointed at MacKenzie. “Look at her, see those nipples? I’m pretty sure she came as I strangled her to death.”
Jelliette felt like her head was full of static. “What the fuck are you talking about, that’s insane,” she said.
She spared a second to glance down at MacKenzie.
The dead girl’s nipples were stiffly erect under her tank top. Jelliette’s mouth was suddenly dry.
Why the fuck am I talking with him?!
Jelliette dug her feet into the roof beneath her and sprang, spinning in the air in a fierce kick.
Jack almost tried to block the kick, but he had some experience with bouncing heroes – a heroine whose mobility depended on long jumps tended to develop extremely powerful legs.
Ducking, he rolled aside, letting Angel Eyes drop, and leaped up as Jelliette bounced back. He took her in the air, wrapping her curvy body in his arms, and slammed her hard into the ground.
She bounced, of course, and he followed up with a series of blows to the body that made her retch.
“Tough little cunt,” he snarled, slapping aside her arms as she beat at him. Gripping her hair, he repeatedly hammered the back of her head into the roof.
No matter how bouncy she might be, a nice concussion was great for taking some of the fight out of a girl.
Jelliette’s hands clawed at Jack’s costume, her face twisted into a grimace of hatred, but the blows to her head had left her weak and shuddering, and she couldn’t resist as he pulled her into a headlock.
The hold gave her time to reorient herself, and she felt hot tears in her eyes.
“Why’d you do it?” she asked miserably. “You asshole. They were my friends. They were so nice and you fucking killed them both.”
“I killed them?” Jack said with feigned surprise. “Am I the one who dragged them out on the rooftops tonight? Was your little club my idea?”
“FUCK YOU!” she shrieked, elbowing back at him, and he tightened his grip and laughed in her ear. “You fucking piece of shit, fuck you fuck you fuck you!” She took a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could in his ear, “Give me my fucking friends back!”
“You really should have dyed your hair, you know. Maybe green,” he said conversationally. “Two blondes on one team just doesn’t look right, and your braindead friend was a hotter blonde than you.”
Jelliette wordlessly howled, stamping down at Jack’s feet, and he hoisted her up to stop that. He wore custom steel-toed shoes, but it was still uncomfortable.
“This might make you feel better, darling,” he said. “At least your little friends won’t have to find out about the rape racks, unlike you.”
Jelliette felt as if she’d been suddenly dunked in ice water. The rape racks. The rape racks. The sheer fact that those words could be uttered so casually stunned her.
“The black market always needs fresh hero meat, and nice tight hero holes,” he continued, feeling her lush body up.
Resistance suddenly seemed pointless. A world that contained something called the rape racks, and a black market that always needed nice tight hero holes, was not the world Jelliette had thought she lived in. It was not the world that Eden and MacKenzie had thought they lived in, and now they were dead.
Jack dumped her on the ground in a tangle of limbs, and dug a stun gun into her side when she moved, sending electricity coursing through her body.
Pulling out a pocket knife, he whistled to himself as he took a fistful of her body stocking near her crotch, pulled it away from her flesh, and sliced it open.
Jelliette stared across the rooftop at Angel Eyes. Eden. Her friend, who was dead, whose brain was leaking out of her mouth and ears from a supervillain’s acid.
Jack nodded appreciatively at the curves of Jelliette’s ass. “No panties, love it,” he said, and thrust a thumb up her ass. Predictably, this got her fighting spirit back up, so he pressed the stun gun into her pussy and zapped her again.
“Shut up, bitch, I’m just testing a theory.”
He shoved two fingers into her pussy and she whimpered.
“What’d I tell you?” he said, showing her the wetness on his digits. “Fuckin’ sluts.”
She started to cry as he put his other thumb inside her butt and stretched. She could feel her hole opening up easily, wider than she could ever remember, and the sensation was sharp and cruel and humiliating.
“Ohhh, shit,” he breathed as he let go, and Jelliette’s abused anus snapped back to its proper size. “Look at that.”
He had been right. Jelliette definitely had stretching powers, and that meant money.
“This is why I left you alive instead of that sexy blonde cunt,” he said. “You get top dollar for bringing you stretchy sluts back. The really big boys like Hypersaurus and the Devil Stallion need some flexibility to get all their meat in a bitch.”
Fresh resistance filled her, and she pushed against the ground and spun hard, slamming her leg into the side of Jack’s head. He grabbed her by the thighs, stood up, and swung her down.
Wind rushed past Jelliette’s ears as she arced downwards. Her head hit the rooftop with a crash, and she saw stars, then nothing.
Posted Jul 14, 2022, 12:44 AM UTC · edited