Super College Ch 01

Author's note: I really have no idea where my fascination with super-hero and super-heroine fiction comes from, but there was an itch that needed to be scratched after the Sable series.

#

01: First humiliation

Kimberly grinned and put her hands up, open, fingers curled loosely, and shifted her weight lightly on her feet, poised and ready, her boxing shorts revealing her luscious 18-year-old legs as they plunged down into her boxing shoes, and her sports bra barely containing her firm breasts.

She flickered through some basic boxing foot-work, almost too fast to see, then returned to normal, but highly trained, human speed.

Her friend Megan opposite her, a slightly taller version of teenage womanhood, olive skin to Kimberely's tanned Nordic flesh, grinned back at her and jogged up and down on the balls of her feet. For a second there were three of her, all of the images ghostly, side by side, until they resolved into one solid human again, the one not in the middle but on the left.

"Ready for a pasting, kitty-cat?"

"Ready to hand one out, light-show."

"DISCIPLINE!"

They had both been expecting the bark of their trainer, Tornado, whose jet-black skin floated within his pure-white karate uniform like a ball of muscular energy. Neither of them did more than grin more, not taking their eyes off each other.

"Remember! This is free sparring, to submission! This is not patty-cake, patty-cake! I want to see bruising! And no powers! Any use of powers will be punished! If you can not learn discipline here, I will not pass you and if I do not pass you, you will not get licensed, and you all know what happens to those who are not licensed!"

Both girls swallowed at that, and so did most of the rest of the 14 girls and boys, all aged 18, lined up in two lines in the middle of the dojo. The only exceptions were those whose faces wore the serious, etched concentration of the committed martial artist.

"FIGHT!"

Parahumans can be divided into those who need to concentrate to express their power, and those who need to concentrate to suppress it. Kimberley was the latter, Megan was the former.

So Megan struck first, as Kimberley clamped down on her body's reflexes. But Kimberley had been expecting that, and slid backwards so Megan's leading right-hand straight punch, lashing out in an attempt to finish the fight with a pre-emptive strike, was deflected at the last moment.

Megan followed Kimberley's retreat, trying to press her advantage, as the shorter girl crouched slightly more, bringing her arms in and using her hands in the slipping Chinese style, deflecting rather than blocking, going for a grapple so she could trap Megan's longer arms and retaliate with a strike or joint-lock.

Her friend, knowing her style well, broke sideways, trying to jab her under the ribs with a savagely uplifted knee that Kimberley blocked with dropped elbow after twisting the same way to bleed the strike of power.

Megan's triumphant elbow strike, swinging high and sideways over the blocking arm, found itself blocked at her folded-back wrist as Kimberley slipped inwards, catching the longer-limbed girl off-balance with striking leg only just returning to the floor, carrying her backwards to the floor.

They landed hard, harder bodies absorbing the impact with only an out-rushing of breath, an extra grunt from Megan on the bottom as Kimberley pressed a forearm across her throat.

Megan's long legs wrapped around Kimberley's bare waist, trying to squeeze her into submission as they lay flattened with youthfully firm breasts squashed together, but with one arm pinned and the other flailing desperately for a strike, she was choked out quickly, legs weakening a split-second before Kimberley had to submit herself.

Megan tapped out frantically as greyness began to descend.

Kimberley collapsed to the side, rolling to her feet almost in an instant, Megan taking a little longer as she got oxygen back into her blood.

"Sloppy!" Their trainer barked, behind Kimberley's ear, "both of you! Megan, you were overconfident, sloppy, didn't have a back-up plan, and weren't prepared to fight dirty. Kimberley, you made an opportunity and only won by luck! Fail! Get to it again!"

When they faced off again, there was less grinning.

#

"Do you think he'll ever let up on us?" Megan was trying to dry her ears with a towel, her hair damp and tangled after her shower and the rest of the towel held coyly in front of her naked breasts as she sat on the bench next to her dry clothes.

Kimberley shook her head. "Not likely. He wouldn't be a good instructor if he did. He wants us to improve, and as quickly as possible. It's not like villains or henchmen will let up on us when we get our licenses."

Megan pulled the towel away from her ear, looking at her friend. "I keep forgetting how seriously you take this. You were training before you came to the College, weren't you?"

"Seven years of Wing Chun," Kimberley said as she bent over, one towel tied loosely over her breasts and just covering her muscular bottom, using another one to finish drying her calves, where a livid bruise was rapidly fading. All parahumans have rapid healing abilities, so even Megan's swollen eye was now fully functioning again.

"But I could never get the hang of kicking. Guess I've learnt something, then," Kimberley continued as she straightened up and tied her spare towel around her head to dry her hair before digging her panties out of her bag.

Megan shook her head. All she had known about fighting before the Para Police came knocking on her door and terrified her parents had been how to claw someone's eyes out or kick them in the shins. Now she could kick someone in the head without losing her balance, or use five different types of arm-lock automatically, and several more if she had time to think.

Now, she knew what it felt like to hurt all over and count her bruises and be happy about it. She shook her head again as she quickly dropped her towel and reached for her bra, her panties already on.

Then she stopped abruptly when she couldn't find them.

"Ummm ... Kimmy?"

Kimberley was staring into her bag. She had her panties on, and her bag was empty.

"Fucking pranks!" Kimberley exploded. "When I find the fucking telekinetic who ..."

"ATTENTION!"

Five girls, in various stages of undress, none with more than panties to put on, jumped. Two squealed, three tried to cover themselves with towels and one just froze like a frightened rabbit. One slowly straightened up, her whipcord body bearing small and high conical breasts not with pride but with alert indifference.

Tornado, very real and very male, stalked through the middle of the change-room.

"You all learnt, yesterday, that you will be studying how to withstand humiliation, degradation, and basic behavioural mental conditioning."

Kimberley and Megan, who had dodged that class, swallowed nervously. Of the remaining three girls, two swallowed in shame and came to attention with cheeks flushed scarlet, only the tall Stacey, wiry and alert and always the most serious, already at proper attention.

"You learned that you will have to learn to deal with the most basic kind of humiliation - public forced nudity. You were warned this could happen at any time, including in the middle of a fight.

"You will now be tested.

"Your clothes have been removed. You keep your panties.

"For now.

"You will now walk across the campus, in file, in proper marching discipline, while the entire senior student body watches.

"NOW FORM UP, SINGLE FILE!"

One girl stepped to the front of the line, poker-faced. Two stepped up shamed but resigned. Two thought of panicking, breaking and trying to escape, only the sure knowledge of what would happen to them if they tried to avoid a direct order keeping them in line, upright but unconsciously trying to scrunch their shoulders together, faces beet-red and the flush spreading down to their ample and buoyant breasts.

Their trainer prowled down the line, savage gaze raking them from head to toe, finding only one girl to be satisfied with, and came to Kimberley, then Megan.

"BACK STRAIGHT! HEAD UP! SHOULDERS BACK! CHEST OUT! DO I HAVE TO FAIL YOU RIGHT NOW STUDENTS?!"

The two stood to bolt-upright attention instantly, terrified of not doing so.

"I will be following behind you," he hissed between them, low and dangerous. "And if you so much as look sideways or think about not marching properly, I will keep you back a year and make you do punching-bag duty, do you understand?"

"Yes Sifu!" the two yelped, fast enough to be simultaneous.

"March!"

Stacey stepped forward, right-foot first, everyone else following her with varying degrees of accuracy as she marched for the door, not breaking stride as their trainer held the door open for them.

As they exited the change rooms, the nine male students, all completely naked, lead by poker-faced Alex staring straight ahead, filed out of their change-rooms, followed by the female trainer, muscles built unnaturally on a lean body.

Stacey and Alex wheeled towards the doors almost simultaneously, marching shoulder-to-shoulder out into the grounds, where the college's senior student body was leaning against walls, sitting on fences and in the branches of trees, and grinning their heads off.

The first wolf-whistle started as they appeared. Two of the boys found themselves unable to control nervous erections, which ended up bobbing embarrassingly close to the arses of the boys in front of them, which got them half-mocking laughter from all the girls who could see.

The air, not cold but colder than the exercising students, made the girl's nipples harden to instant shouts of "Headlights on!"

Only the two students in front, still stony-faced, avoided blushing, and Kimberley felt her face burning through her tan. The girl in front of her started sobbing before they had taken 50 steps.

Two of the boys started grinning, a swagger creeping into their marching, before hooted laughter and derisive shouts from older girls made them crumple visibly, their growing erections withering to nothing.

Megan's hands curled into fists as anger override humiliation.

"Hey mister! How much for the two tarts at the back?"

Hoots of laughter drowned out the sound of Megan's breath leaving her body as though she had been punched in the solar plexus, and Kimberley nearly tripped and fell into the girl in front of her.

"Nah, I only like tall girls, how much for the slag in front?"

Stacey didn't even react.

"They should do this walk more often, some of them still have tan lines!"

"That boy in the back is kind of cute, think he can take a strap-on?"

For the first time, one of the boys blushed redder than any of the girls.

"Aw, the girl in the middle is crying, how do you think her tears taste?"

"I'm wondering if any of them are just as wet in their cunts as well!"

"Look! It's almost an erection! I wonder if he'd manage that with a urethra probe in?"

"I'll take the two tall boys in the middle, I bet they'd look really hot fucking each other!"

"I reckon they'd look even hotter fucking that girl on the end!"

"Yeah, spit-roast!"

"I was thinkin' DP, but hey, that's hot too."

All of the marchers were struggling to restrain their powers, even the two in front having to focus, eight months in the College ensuring that the fear of punishment was even stronger than the shame they were feeling.

"In my year, we got stopped just up there, lined up and caned."

Megan missed a step before laughter told her the boy was probably joking.

It was the longest half hour of any of their lives before they all entered the Maintenance Services building. Megan had a few seconds through the haze of humiliation to wonder why they were there before Stacey and Alex crumpled and hit the ground in a dead heap, followed almost instantly by everyone else. She tried to put her arm out to break her fall, but not even that obeyed her.

#

Parahumans wake up quickly.

Megan was fully alert a heartbeat after her eyelids flickered open.

So she knew within that heartbeat that she was fully naked and restrained in an X shape, with ankles spread and shackled in soft but unyielding leather, wrists stretched above her head the same way and every limb stretched tight.

Half her brain tried to get her free, the other half leapt to her studies on Villain Perversions. Both halves returned bad news at the same time.

She violently wrenched at her bonds to try and pull herself free, meeting with complete failure as her torso writhed between her stretched hips and shoulders with more give in her tendons than in her shackles.

There was a bright light shining at her face, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut. She twisted her head to the side to try and see past the light, but her eyes could not adjust to see anything in the shadows.

"Oh good, you're finally awake. I was afraid for a moment you were damaged goods."

Fear and outrage both flared inside her.

"Now perhaps we can finally begin."

"I'm a licensed student at the College!" She gasped, knowing it was a stupid thing to say the instant she had said it.

"Stupid little girl! Don't you remember you were on College grounds? And besides," hands instantly seized her head in a vise-like grip, twisting it upright, forcing her to look straight at the light and making her squeeze her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to not be blinded. "What makes you think I care?"

After a lifetime of looking after herself, her complete helplessness threatened to squeeze out more tears than the spotlight could.

"The thing is," the voice continued - her training told her it was deep, masculine, aggresive, implaccable, dominant - "that now all three cameras know how foolish and weak you are. You really should have thought that through more carefully."

Cameras! She really did have to choke back a sob then.

"Now, smile for the cameras while I prepare you for your big performance."

"What are doing to me?" she managed to gasp out.

"No, no, no! You're directing my attention to what I'm doing, as you so correctly pointed out, to you, instead of trying to distract me! Haven't you learned anything, child?

"What I'm doing is taking advantage of the fact that your hopelessly immature brain is living in a fully mature woman's body!"

Every woman's instinctive terror of rape welled up and threatened to overwhelm her.

"Tsk, tsk! You clearly hadn't considered what a Villain might want to do with a very naked and very restrained nubile young woman, and you're letting it distract you! You really haven't been paying attention in class, have you? You're powerless, deal with it! Find out what you can do, what options you have open to you! Deary deary me, that College is slipping in its teaching standards, I do think."

While the voice had been talking it had been moving around the room, approaching and receding. She could tell from its movement how big the room had to be, she could tell that the table - not a bed, a table - she was strapped to was in the middle with space around it, and she could tell from echoes roughly how big the space could be. The roof didn't seem to be any higher than the light, and the walls probably described a square.

She could tell all this, but only when she consciously forced herself to think about it. Years of training in combat, and another year at the College, meant she should have been thinking about that from the very start. She should have been able to process and use that information while losing a fight against multiple opponents. For fuck's sake, he hadn't even done anything to her yet, and she was losing it!

She struggled to pull herself together, trying to ignore her fears, put them to one side and process only what she could do something about.

That didn't stop her shriek of violated terror when he unexpectedly pressed a cold metal ring onto her right breast, surrounding her nipple and covering most of her aureola.

"Still trying to worry about things you can't change?" he mocked her.

She tried to get a grip on her mind, but the ring, sitting heavy on her firm young breast and apparently glued there, seemed to have her locked into futilely trying to flinch away from it.

Focus! Ignore it! Deep breaths. Focus.

She suddenly realised she was taking advice from the Villain holding her captive, and nearly vomited.

She heard him move around behind her, and for the first time felt a flicker of pride and hope when she predicted, seconds early, a ring being pressed firmly down around her left nipple. A chain, that seemed to be attached to both, fell between breasts onto her sternum.

She couldn't stop it, so she should ignore it. What could she change? Her reactions, and ... her voice. She could talk. She should try to be more intelligent about it, but she had already convinced him she was helpless, foolish, and terrified. She couldn't afford to recover too quickly.

"What ... what are you going to do?" she sniffed.

"Aha! Finally! What I am doing, little slut, is preparing to manipulate your central nervous system so I can take possession of it and completely control your body. It's what I do."

Kimberley made a violent mental effort to wrest control from the stark terror that washed over her. Think, girl! He said body, not mind, and he said "slut". That's never good, it means he intends to use you for sexual purposes. Stop thinking it's gross! If you can't cope, if you can't find a way out, you'll have enough time to be squeamish when you're under his control!

She gulped down the lump in her throat while she heard him move away to the side, heard the clinking of metal, and heard him move back.

"That's possible?" she asked, not having to work at keeping a painful tremor in her voice. Get them talking! Find out their interests, and feed it! A Villain's greatest weakness is their ego and their obsession!

He chuckled, an amused rather than malicious sound.

"Trying to distract me? You're finally thinking, but unfortunately for you I can work while talking.

"Yes, my little puppet, it is possible. I've done it to normal women and I've done it to parahumans and now I will be doing it to you."

Shit! Shit! Shit! Think, girl! Change tack!

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I enjoy it, try and think ahead, girl."

No amount of self-discipline or preparation could prevent her squealing and jerking back when she felt him pull her vaginal lips apart and, without ceremony, quickly and surely push a thin and cold metal shaft deep inside her.

It was slick with lube so there was no friction, and her instinctive clench to try and prevent him pushing it any deeper was helpless against his strength.

"Get used to it now, you'll be feeling a lot more of that," he said as he held her down with one hand pressing down irresistibly on her hips, finger and thumb drilling into the pressure points at the junction of each leg, while he wriggled the shaft until it was settled right inside her. "I'm so glad to feel you're not a virgin, maybe I'll have less to teach you."

She almost responded to that, almost broke her control and abused him for suggesting that anyone as good looking as she was would still be a virgin!

"The question is, how much experience do you have?"

She didn't manage to predict him pushing a sharply tapered, wide plug into her anus.

She shrieked, clenched and tried to jerk backwards and twist sideways out of the way, with just as much success.

She desperately clamped her jaws shut, but she couldn't stop him deciphering her whimpers as "No, please, no, please, no!"

"Virgin in the ass, are you? Well, I'm glad to see I'll be able to teach you something about how to enjoy that luscious young flesh of yours."