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Chapter 12
by otx
Whom do we follow?
Meter Maid
Yeah, things went to shit as expected: two bimbos down and you getting tied up in shock whips. They push and shove you into one of those glass tubes, then the whips finally let go and you're locked in. Just like fucking clockwork: they've done this before.
Ibanez said something about flensing; what the fuck is flensing? You learn when little knives of light cut your clothing to shreds and suck them to shreds. They take the cuffs too, but you manage to keep hold of the whip. Great. Now you're totally exposed to the whole room. You consider covering up but they've already gotten the full show.
Your tape is straining the glass but that doesn't really matter when the floor drops away and you're sucked downwards. A split-second later you land face-down on a padded table and robot tentacles grab your wrists and ankles. The table starts vibrating and another tentacle grabs your ass and pushes you down so your pussy is also getting the vibe show.
"When I get out of this I'm going to rip somebody's fucking head off."
A mechanical/recorded voice says, "Scanning ... powers detected ... TITS disabled ... identity confirmed: welcome, Bondage ... error ... error ..."
A woman with green hair (dye job), hazel eyes, a roman nose, overpainted lips and a slutty nurse costume comes in. You slap the Boot on her.
"Well, someone is miss Grumpy Girlie today."
"Let me go, freakshow." You wrap her in police tape.
"My name is Nurse Fetish, not Freakshow. And how do you expect me to let you go when I'm all tied-y wied-y? Can you make the one over my nippy-nips a little tighter please?"
"Ugh." You release the bonds on her. "Now untie me."
She pushes a button on the wall. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Choco-Cutie. You have to be interrogated first."
You try to tape her mouth but nothing happens.
She giggles. "And that's why I turned the power suppressor up to max."
"Let me go, bitch!"
"Ooh, nasty nasty! But all you have to do is answer some questions and you'll be free from the cutesy-wootsy tentacle porn. You don't like tentacle porn, do you pretty girl?"
"Get this crap off me right... NO!"
Another robotic tentacle is slithering up your leg and gently stroking it along the way. Two more wrap around your tits and start alternately squeezing and stroking. A fourth one wraps around your throat and teases your lips.
"You know, fake-Bondage, the real Bondage loves tentacle porn. She can take three squirmies up her cunny all at once and she just sits there and smiles. Would you like to try that?"
Something soft but metallic slithers across your back while the tentacle between your legs plays with your labia.
"In about a minute, my little friend is going to go inside and look around the house; if he likes it he's going to invite some friends in. Maybe some will come and explore that cave out back too. Won't that be a fun adventure?"
"STOP IT!" After the scream you sob, "Please!" The tentacles slide over your already-crawling skin.
"All you have to do to make my playful friends settle down is talk. Tell me about the heroes and villains where you come from, and spare no details. Her Highness wants to know everything she can about your world."
You consider telling her to go fuck herself but she'd leave all the creepy and disgusting tentacles on you while she did it. Anyway, there's nothing saying you have to betray your friends when there's so many villains in the world.
"Okay, I'll talk; first, there's this fat bitch called Pyrogasm..."
She gets a big dopey grin on her face. "Keep talking, you're being recorded; when you stop, the timer counts down. Tick-tick-tick!" With a maniacal giggle she leaves the room. The tentacles stop slithering and settle into an easy pressure, just enough so you don't forget they're there.
What's next?
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Perils of a Novice Superheroine
A generic superheroing setting drenched with sex and scandal
Acropolis City, the center of super-human and caped crusader activity in this particular world - with its own dizzying highs and lows, high-tech skylines and slums standing in stark, four-color contrast, it provided everything that a costumed megalomaniac or masked vigilante could ask for. In fact, as is usually the case where colorful masked characters are the norm, it has become something of an institution by this point. But although the mere existence of costumed heroes and villains no longer shocks people, these people - who, by their very nature, thrive on attention - keep finding new ways to stand out from the crowd and attract the eye. This last goal tends to get a lot of emphasis in the most simple, sexualized way possible. For reasons that the world's most brilliant scientists have yet to explain, latent super-abilities seem to manifest more often in women than men by a ratio of 3 to 1 or more. This is true even when the superpower isn't "natural"; paranormal artifacts fall into their hands, esoteric martial arts schools never seem to have a male heir, the technological prototypes they test always seem to be the ones that are most easily used or abused for good and evil. Unfortunately, the glory days of the past where citizens were happy to see any old masked do-gooder show up are over - in recent years, Acropolis City has established a ranking system of heroes where those who get high marks from the citizens and resolve incidents are rewarded with corporate sponsorships and (most coveted of all) seats at the prestigious League of Propriety. Those who intimidate the populace, cause excessive collateral damage, or simply don't excite anyone, garnering low rankings, get 'asked' to move to less prestigious cities. Few superheroes want to get stuck battling clans of villainous hillbillies and corrupt small-town sheriffs for the rest of their careers, so they're always eager to please the influential citizens of Acropolis City (judges, eminent scientists, first responders, and of course the all-important reporters). On the other side of the law, a similar dynamic predominates; only the most glamorous and charismatic costumed ne'er-do-wells can make it in this town. And so, the novice superheroines just learning the ways of battling for justice and order, without any team to back them up, always end up patrolling the skeeviest, most undesirable slums of the city and taking on the most thankless rescues. As if that weren't bad enough, most of them feel obliged to dress in ways that get more outlandish and revealing with every passing year while they fight the good fight and/or feed their craving for attention, depending on how you see the 'cape life'. As if that weren't troublesome enough, the superhuman mutations that make so many of these heroes' careers possible also result in greatly increased sexual sensitivity, particularly in females. The adventures and misadventures that these spandex-clad lady crusaders get into are often too hot to print for the kind of comics that their young admirers would read. Messy mistakes will be made, but you don't want to disappoint your readers, do you? So let the League know what kind of superheroine you are, your chosen name, powers, and appearance, and they'll send you out on your first patrols. Good luck.
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Updated on Jun 15, 2025
by micdan282
Created on Nov 30, 2016
by fyreant
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