The Return Of Cougaress Ep 02

Author's Notes: The plot for Episode 3 is already set, but I'm interested in input on what readers would like to see after that. Preferably in Comments, but you can message me if you prefer it to be private. Some particular questions:

Should Cougaress "face off" against a man? Another woman? An "it"? A whole group?

Should it be a villain, another hero, or a "normal"?

Should it be more consensual (like Episode 1) or less so (like the current story)?

Also, if anyone has a particular character you'd like to see in a Cougaress crossover, go ahead and say so. Note that since Cougaress exists in her own "universe" it will likely be a "Captain Ersatz" of the character rather than the original (e.g. "Arachnid-guy" rather than the actual Spider-man).

Finally, please consider becoming a fan. Writers love to know their work is appreciated (and it's not like I'm asking for money or anything). Also, suggestions from my fans will be given added weight.

EPISODE TWO: This Time the Quality of Mercy Is Pretty Darn Strained

Paragon insisted that you revert to your secret identity (AKA the person you were before you got super powers) as soon as your pregnancy started showing. He also insisted you conceal the very fact that the two of you were having a child at all, convincing you that it was for the safety of both you and the baby. And of course up until he dragged Ryan off to that alternate dimension you were a full-time mom. So as far as the world is concerned, Cougaress simply vanished from sight for no reason about five years ago.

That's what you thought at the time, anyway. Now that you're back in circulation you discover that Paragon had been bragging about siring a son on you to pretty much anyone who would listen. It totally puts the lie to that whole "worried about your safety" thing.

You didn't think you could get any madder at that bastard. You were wrong.

In any event, once you return to patrolling it only takes six weeks or so for word to start spreading among the hero and law enforcement communities that Cougaress is back in action. (Back in action as far as crime-fighting is concerned, that is. Aside from that brief encounter with the gang kid you still haven't managed to get any action of the other sort. Whatever happened to the idea that this time of your life should be the peak of your sexuality as a woman?) What this means is that you start getting tips again about particular crimes and criminals that are in need of the superhero touch.

Tonight you're returning with the result of one of those tips. One of the more effective non-super heist gangs had stolen the prototype of a high-tech glue gun (that's how you think of it, it shoots some sort of extremely tough, instantly hardening polymer) from a government lab and was auctioning it on the dark web to foreign powers. The authorities knew the gang was holed up in the city but had no idea where, so they contact you and a few other heroes to try finding the hideout.

You show up at the lab and ask to see a sample of the polymer. As you hoped, it has a very distinctive scent. After that it's merely a matter of roaming the city sniffing the wind. The gang had made a video of the gun in action as a sales pitch to potential bidders, meaning they used it in their hideout. When you start to smell the polymer you can easily zero in.

You crack a few skulls, retrieve the gizmo, use it to glue the gang members to the floor (fun!), call the cops. And now you're on your way back to the lab to return their lost gadget. It's late night (took a while to get close enough to detect the smell) but you figure even if nobody's home you can put it back in the lab they showed you.

As you travel the rooftops you hear faint sounds of shattering glass up ahead. Naturally you move a little faster in that direction, and soon you're looking down on a small group of gang-bangers breaking into a Mercedes. Not exactly a major crimewave, but since you're in the area anyway you figure you'll drop in and join the party.

Following your usual MO you start off by jumping down behind the guy who seems to be in charge and sweeping his legs out from under him. Also as usual for amateur criminals this panics the others, who were planning to steal a car, not fight a superhero. Some of them bolt in various directions, a few try fumbling for a weapon, one just stands there in apparent shock.

Your more disciplined colleagues have often told you there are faster and better organized ways to handle this sort of thing, but you feel it's more interesting to make them scatter and then hunt them down. Possibly it has something to do with the cat in you, you enjoy playing with your prey. So a mad ten minutes follows as you variously disarm and disable the fighters and the runners. Finally you get around to the one fool who's just waiting there watching it all go down.

"Tyrell?" you groan in disbelief when you get close enough to recognize him.

"Uh, hi? You're looking good, Cougaress."

You take another look at the fallen thugs. "Tyrell, this is a totally different gang you're running with tonight. You can't tell me your brother made you join them, too."

"Yeah, umm, no. I kind of asked if I could tag along."

You stare at the kid in disbelief. "You asked to tag along."

He clears his throat. "Actually I had to bribe them. I knew where my brother kept his stash, so I hooked them up with some meth."

"What. The. Fuck. Were. You. THINKING?"

He bites his lip. "I was ... well, I was hoping to see you again."

You groan. "Damn it, Tyrell, this is ridiculous. What did I say last time I saw you?"

"You said if you caught me you'd hurt me, but I thought since we ..."

"Stop. Stop right there," you growl. "There is no 'we' here. We do not have a relationship, aside from that between vigilante and criminal. You're lucky if I don't beat you to a pulp tonight before I turn you over to the cops"

"Okay, but when we ..."

"Shut it. Kid, whatever happened the last time we met is not going to happen again, not ever. Get that right out of your mind," you fume. "Goddammit, I thought you were smart, you should know this was stupid. You're going to end up with a record, possibly a felony."

"But I keep thinking about it, and ..."

"You have a right to think about whatever you want. What I'm telling you is that thinking about it is all it's ever going to be from now on," you say. "Look, kid, I see that you have a crush on me. Lots of fanboys get crushes on me. Then if they're ever going to be happy, they get over it and go on with the rest of their lives. That's what you need to do, starting right now. You won't be very popular in jail if the other inmates find out you're a heroine junkie."

He looks so heartbroken that you feel sorry for the poor kid. Not enough to let him screw you again, but bad enough that you need an excuse not to turn him in to the police the way you just essentially promised to.

Last time you got him to run by feigning weakness after orgasm, which obviously won't work this time. And you can't just let him go scot-free, that will only feed his silly fantasy about your "relationship" with him. Then you get an idea.

"See this thing I have looped over my shoulder? It's a glue gun. It shoots this stuff that even I would have a hard time breaking. They guys I just took it from had it, and heavy weapons, and they were a fuckload tougher than these bozos you're running with. So before you try fighting me you better

think hard

about what I just told you."

Then you turn your back on him and pretend to fiddle with your phone, as if you're having trouble calling some special superhero-police hotline.

Now Tyrell has no intention whatsoever of fighting you, and as you suspect, he's a smart kid. So it doesn't take long at all for the subtext you sent to register. He snatches the glue gun from where it's hanging and pushes the obvious trigger button, aiming at your left foot. Luckily the scientist who designed it were going for the simplest possible interface on the prototype, so there's no safety or anything. It spits out a wad of the glue over your boot and the sidewalk.

You look back over your shoulder, hiding a smirk. "Uh oh, looks like I'm trapped. Now drop that thing, you'll be able to run away faster."

He doesn't. "You really can't get free from that?"

You groan inwardly. "Tyrell, I'm warning you. This is your last chance."

He nods at that. "I know. It really is my last chance. So I better make the most of it."

He gets out his phone and takes a pic. From the angle he's focusing on your butt.

"What do you think you're doing, you idiot?" you hiss at him. You try to move your glued foot, and discover it really is well and truly stuck. This stuff is stronger than you thought it would be.

He walks around you, clicking away from different angles. He's dropped the glue gun somewhere, you can't see it. "Getting a few pics of you to post online. Isn't that what all fanboys do?"

His voice is sly now, with a hint of hostility to it. You've rejected him and, to his mind anyway, mocked him. So he's paying it back.

"How about a selfie with me, Cougaress? Least you could do for a fanboy, right?"

He's behind you again. He rapidly steps up close, pressing himself against your backside. Just like last time this happened you feel a raging erection in his jeans. He reaches forward with the phone, past you. "Smile," he says, and snaps the picture.

Then he angles the camera down to your cleavage and takes another pic. His free arm snakes around you and grabs a tit. "Here's a real special one for all the other fanboys," he gloats and he takes a pic of his hand mauling your breast through your costume.

Enough is enough, you decide. Putting your weight on your glued foot you hook the right one back and knock the kid's legs out from under him. Bending forward you grab for one of his feet, but he scrambles away and all you get it his shoe. You toss it away, snarling. "Damn it, Tyrell, this isn't funny anymore!"

"So it was funny to you, what we did last time? I guess I'm just a joke for the great Cougaress to laugh at."

He comes back into view, carrying the glue gun now. He gets close and you try a side kick, hoping to knock the gizmo out of his hands, but he's expecting the move and dances away. When your right foot lands he glues that one, too.

Your feet are now immobilized a full stride apart. It's not any kind of fighting stance, it's like the poses photographers sometimes ask you to take ("spread your feet, put your hands on your hips, tilt your head up a little, now give me a look of steely determination"). Again you try breaking the bonds, no dice. You can't bring your legs together, you can squat but not all the way to the ground, and you have no reach. The only thing you've got left is your voice, which has never been all that super.

"Look, Tyrell, I'm not making fun of you. I feel sorry for you."

You wince. Okay, that was not a good start, try again. "It's just that I want you to have a life. I mean, a healthy, productive life, one that doesn't involve being a criminal or being hooked on someone you can't have. That's why I want you to scram. If you stick around and get arrested you'll have a record, don't you realize how that can ruin things for you? And right now you're only making it worse. If the cops got you for aiding and abetting a car break-in you might not even get jail time, just probation. But assaulting me and stealing a government prototype? They may lock you up and throw away the key, kid."

"Wow. I guess you're right," he says. He steps back in front of you, holding out the glue gun. "But now I can't trust you enough to come within reach. How about I just put this down so you can take it?"

He still reeks of anger and lust. Literally reeks; your enhanced sense of smell picks up human pheromones easily, and for men aggression and sexual arousal overlap quite a lot. That doesn't necessarily mean he's lying, once a body starts emitting that sort of thing it can stick around for a while even after whatever triggered the release is long gone. You watch as he carefully approaches and lays the glue gun down, then takes several steps back.

You can see you'll have to strain to reach the damn thing. "Move it closer," you say.

He shakes his head. "Uh uh, no way I'm going to get any closer and let you try to grab me again. At this point I'm not even going to nudge it with my foot. Take it or leave it."

You consider. Once you have the prototype back you're golden. You don't care if the kid runs, in fact you'd prefer it. Maybe there's a reversal button on the gizmo or something that will dissolve the glue, who knows? Or if you really truly can't get free, you can swallow your pride and phone one of your colleagues for help.

You bend at the hips and reach. Still a tiny bit too far from you. You stand back up and consider. If you bend at the hips till you're head down and lunge at the same time, you can probably snatch it with your extended claws. You're sure you can recover back to standing, after all you have cat-like flexibility plus you're an ex-cheerleader. You go for it.

The kid is waiting for just this move. He's carefully pointed the muzzle of the thing toward you; as soon as you make your move he dives on the gun and pushes the button. A glob of glue covers your outstretched hands, and you can't avoid them landing on the sidewalk. They stick fast.

Now you've got both boots spread wide and glued flat, your hands are together and stuck to the ground forming the third leg of a Cougaress tripod, and you're bent over at the waist with your ass higher than your head. You can flex your knees and elbows a little, and that's it.

The kid starts laughing. "Oh, man, you really fell for it. This is great!"

You snarl at him wordlessly. You're angrier at yourself than you are at him. Though you're still going to beat the bejesus out of him once you get free.

"What, no more threats and promises? Good, because I'd hate to have to glue your mouth shut," he says.

Tyrell lays the prototype down where you can see it and approaches. You make another attempt to break free of the glue without any effect. He walks around you, taking more pics with his phone. Including some with his hands fondling your ass.

"Fuck, I got to get me some more of this," he mutters. He moves his hands up to where the catches for your costume are hidden and starts trying to work out how to undo them. Your opinion that the kid is really smart (at least about some things) is confirmed, he only saw you do this once but he paid attention and remembered. It takes him just a couple minutes, then the catches unlock and your costume opens. He peels it away, leaving you naked except for your boots and mask. Pretty much like last time, except now it's not by choice.

The odd position and now the loss of support from your costume has your tits hanging almost in your face. Tyrell gropes your bared butt and flanks some more, continuing to take pics. His hands circle your body, eager to explore every bit of you.

Being bent over face down has made your post-Ryan belly pooch more prominent. The kid pats your stomach and says, "Seems like you've been slacking off on your crunches, Cougar-slut." You snarl at him again.

Next he gets down on his back on the sidewalk and slides beneath you, the better to maul your hanging breasts and tug your nipples. He tries maneuvering so that he can suck them, but you snap at him with your teeth and he backs off.

"I guess asking you for a blowjob is out of the question, then?" Tyrell jokes. "That's okay, I'm willing to lick your kitty anyway, you don't have to pay me back."

The kid gets behind you and goes to his knees. Your fixed position doesn't allow you to crush his skull with your thighs. You can't stop him from parting your pussy lips with his thumbs, leaning forward and giving you a long, slow lick.

Tyrell has been watching instructional porn videos or something since your last encounter. He's got a lot better technique this time, making sure to hit all the sensitive areas and make use of his tongue, lips, fingers, and (just gentle nipping) teeth. Combined with the same amount of raw teenage eagerness as last time, this means his pussy-eating soon has you breathing hard.

You've been in this sort of situation before, naturally. For a heroine facing super-villains it's an occupational hazard. Some of your compatriots even seek out this sort of thing. You never have, but you won't deny that you've sometimes enjoyed having a strong man (on a few occasions, a strong woman) make you helpless and then have their wicked way with you.

And of course, you still aren't getting any on a regular basis. In fact your last fuck was with the same young guy who's about to rape you, and you have to admit it was a lot of fun. So you don't blame yourself for the fact that the growing wetness between your thighs isn't just Tyrell's saliva.

He keeps it up until he knows you reach orgasm (you suppress your moans, but can't conceal the quiver in your lower body). Then he resumes what he's doing, and keeps at it until you orgasm again (and this time you can't hold in the whimpers).

He gets back to his feet. You hear him unzip and shuck his jeans and underwear. The aroma of his arousal grows stronger.

Tyrell steps close and lays his nice, long pole lengthwise in your rear cleft. You hear him take a pic then he puts away his phone, uses his hands to push your butt cheeks together, and starts sliding it up and down between them. You hope he doesn't want anal, you don't enjoy that. But it's soon clear he's just warming himself up. He pulls back and uses a hand to adjust his cock downward, nuzzling it against your slick, hot pussy.

Both of you groan as he pushes inside. He's just as big as you remember. He gives it a few slow thrusts to stretch you out and make sure everything is wet inside, then starts going at you like a jackhammer.

He fucks you much harder than last time, and that was a hard fucking. It's partly position, he's got a lot more leverage now, standing up and pulling back on your hips. The other part is his anger at you for the way he perceives you dismissing and belittling him. In his eyes the last time was making love, this one's a grudge-fuck.

As in your previous encounter he doesn't last all that long before unleashing a torrent of cum inside you. He grunts and keeps thrusting as he does it, trying to pump his seed as deep into you as possible. "I fucking hope you get knocked up by this, bitch," he groans. "Maybe if you pop out my kid it will show you I'm not just another fanboy."

You don't think he's done with you. Last time he was able to do it twice, and you're quite sure he'll try for a second round again.

Tyrell doesn't disappoint. Leaving his softening cock inside your cunt he digs his fingers into your curvy rump, mashing and spreading your buttocks. Next he starts spanking them. He's not nearly strong enough to cause you pain this way no matter how hard he slaps your bum, but he seems more interested in watching your creamy bottom cheeks jiggle and bounce under the blows from his dark hands than in drawing a reaction from you.

Next he leans forward atop you and reaches down to grope your breasts. This does draw a reaction, the tit play excites both of you. You start to writhe a little under him, rubbing your bum against his pressing groin. He gives a little gasp as his dick stiffens and lengthens.

"Jesus, you're good. I wish I could keep you like this forever and use you whenever I want. I always thought you were the sexiest woman on the planet. I want you all to myself, that's the reason I had to keep looking for you," he pants. You feel an irrational pleasure at your rapist's praises.

He raises his chest off your back and resumes screwing you. This time the thrusts are much slower, though still very powerful. The position you're in is awkward, but it also places some very sensitive parts of your vagina directly in line with his rampaging penis. You suspect you'll eventually climax if the kid keeps this going long enough.