Supervillain Journal #6: The Amazon, Part 3
Selling the Arrogant Amazonian
The Amazon was strung up by her own lasso. She hung by her wrists from a hook in the ceiling. Stage lights illuminated her body, accentuating every drop of perspiration on her exposed armpits and collarbone, every drop of arousal on her wet panties and thighs. The golden tiara, cuffs, and belt kept her recognizable as the world's most powerful superheroine, but the white bra and underwear revealed her as a helpless but willing doll for her captor's enjoyment. As my first client approached her, her breaths were weighted from her recent beating, her pussy still convulsing from the hypno-fuck, and her clit erect with desire for more pleasure and abuse.
Client 1: Punching Bags
"It does the heart good to see the world's most powerful woman hanging there like that," said the client. To protect his anonymity, I'll refer to him as
Hank
. He was handsome, with tightly-clipped black hair and heavy curves of muscles from his shoulders to his forearms. Everything about him- from the off-handed tone in his voice, to the way he assumed fighting posture while still walking- revealed his years of experience in professional violence. "You know, when I was young, I used to think it'd be sexy for her to get the drop on us, to overpower her."
I laughed. "Wouldn't have worked. I've still got her belt on. If you hit her now, it'll be like hitting her in actual combat."
"May I?"
"You're the client. But it'll feel like punching a wall."
Hank bent his knees, twitched his knuckles, and punched her in the right tit. The Amazon swung back with the blow, but her face betrayed no pain. Hank, on the other hand, belted a comedic, "Youch!" and clutched his hand. "Is that a tit or a cannonball?
The Amazon smirked. "I'm still super-powered."
"Ah, shit." Massaging his knuckle, Hank turned to me. "You defeated her?"
"As she said: I kicked her ass."
"What I wouldn't give to watch you put this cocky bitch in her place."
"Remove her belt," I said. "And you'll get a chance to do it yourself."
The Amazon watched Hank with doey eyes as he grabbed her bra between the cups. He held her still as he rubbed her back lower, lower, till his fingers fastened around the belt. He unclipped it.
The Amazon groaned as her power drained. It was nearly imperceptible, perhaps her chest thrust out a little less, perhaps she instinctively lowered her chin, but you could
tell
that she was just a normal woman again.
Hank chuckled, stepped back to admire the voluptuous beauty bound before him. "I'll be able to watch this later?"
I confirmed it. "We're filming from multiple angles, as well."
"Can she beg me to have mercy?"
"You heard him," I ordered the Amazon. "Beg."
"Please," she whimpered. "Please, don't hurt me. I promise, I'll do anything, just-"
SMACK!
Hank punched her tit so hard it nearly popped out of her bra. The Amazon screamed as pain rang across her massive mammaries.
"Ouch, please, no more, no-"
Hank punched her other breast. Punched it three more times. Then the other boob again. The cusp of her areolae peeked out over the top of the cups.
"Your tits are such easy targets," Hank said. "Too big to miss."
"Please stop." Even raised a few inches off the ground, the Amazon needed to look up to make eye contact with Hank. "My breasts can't take any more."
Hank did not stop. He slapped them from the top, so the areolas hid back behind the cups. Then from below, so they bounced up. Her right nipple was exposed. To no one's surprise: it was rock hard. Hank pinched the nipple, to hold her in place, while he jabbed the other breast time and time again.
"Time for this to come off." Hank grabbed the Amazon by the middle of her bra. His knuckles pushed into and compressed the swell of her cleavage. The Amazon yelped as he ripped the bra off her body. "Can I keep this?"
"If you're willing to pay," I replied.
Hank raised the sweaty garment to his nose, breathed deeply. "Yeah. I'll want a souvenir." He admired the Amazon's exposed tits. I've said it before, but they're probably the best I've ever seen. Heavy and swaying when she bent her back, but perky and full when she stood straight.
"Round Two, Amazon."
"No please, they're so sensitive now, don't-"
SLAP!
It was a joy to watch. He smacked the mewling Amazon's tits to the right, to the left, up and down. Open-handed smacks to the milky-flesh. Tight-knuckled jabs to her hard nipples. Back-handed slaps from her side-boob across to the other tit. And you had to love the physics of it, the way a strike in one area caused it to swell in others, the ripple of the tissue, the way they settled back after each abuse. Hank really knew how to bring the best out of the world's most powerful superheroine's tits.
Client 2: Femdom Tit Torture
"I'd like to change my request," called a voice from behind the lights. Again, for the sake of anonymity, I'll call her Carly. She stepped from the darkness. "Can I squeeze and hold those tits while he hits them?"
"That's up to Hank," I replied.
"A hot chick holding another hot chick's tits?" asked Hank. "Don't let me stop you."
Hank was right; Carly was a hottie. She had short blonde hair, almost boyish, and stood at least a head higher than the Amazon. She had powerful biceps, which would have made her look manly, if not for her massive breasts. Breasts which pressed against the Amazon's back as Carly sidled up behind her.
"Nice tits, honey," she whispered into the Amazon's ear, before she squeezed them together. "I like having you all trussed up like this." She rolled her palms up and down, forcing the Amazon's breasts into a jiggly dance. Carly licked the superheroine's ears. Despite herself, the Amazon's eyes sparked with pleasure.
"Nice, hold 'em really still for me," said Hank.
"Please, they're too squeezed-up," said the Amazon.
"Don't worry sweetheart, you're going to feel this as pleasure."
"Amazon," I ordered. She shivered a bit at the authority in my voice. "You are to feel this not as pain, but as pleasure."
"Yes Master," she breathed.
And did Hank and Carly ever get the Amazon to sing. She screamed even louder than the sound of impact, louder than Hank's grunts and Carly's cackles. She pressed those tits into all sorts of shapes- sometimes the flesh swelled between her fingers, sometimes it flattened against her palms, sometimes she rolled her thumbs over the nipples, sometimes she held them from below so her areolae faced the overhead lights- and Hank slapped and hit and punched them until his arms shook with exertion.
By the way the Amazon twisted her legs, I counted three orgasms.
"You'd better stop," I said. "Or she'll only ever be able to cum from tit play. Your time's up."
Client 3: A Grateful Witness to the Fallen Goddess
Though reluctant, Carly and Hank retreated to the darkness. In their place walked a frail old man with precise gait, silver hair, and a three-piece business suit. This was Franklin, and he paid three hundred million dollars just to sit in front of the Amazon and gaze upon her utter humiliation.