Alone in her apartment, Carol sits idly in a comfy chair, her wide plum-colored eyes focused on the book in her hands. She raises a pale hand to flip a page, enjoying the read.

She is lean and pale, her thick, curly, obsidian hair is medium-length worn in a simple style framing her heart-shaped face set with thin brows and soft red lips. Carol wears a plain dark blue gown, utilitarian and professional, like most of her wardrobe.

The apartment around her is mostly plain and bare, few ornaments, nothing valuable, the only picture is a flower print that looks washed out and underexposed. But her eyes are wide and alive as she runs them over the page, gleefully absorbing the story she is so fervently lost in.
 
Something alerts her, perhaps a sixth sense, perhaps a motion in the air; she raises her head, her lips parting as if to say something, but then a hand descends, slapping a thick cloth over her face.
 
"Mhm!" she squeals in surprise, another arm wrapping around her body to hold her in the chair. She kicks her legs feebly, gasping for breath as she struggles and gets a whiff of something sweet-smelling, then Carol holds her breath, realizing what is happening, that her attacker is drugging her.
 
"Mhmmm!" Carol moans. She writhes in his grip, pulling this way and that, fighting against him with every ounce of strength she has. Her lungs are burning now for lack of oxygen, and she can feel herself growing weaker, can feel her face burning, her pulse hammering in her ears.
 
Carol cries out helplessly as he half-lifts her out of the chair, her bare feet kicking the air. No! She writhes her glorious body, the bright light shining on her bare skin and pretty dress as she kicks and squirms in hisgrip, but she can't stop herself taking a deep breath.
 
Drugged air floods her starved lungs, and her head spins, her vision darkening as chloroform takes effect.
 
"Mhmm!" she moans helplessly. Carol can feel herself weakening, her struggles slowing. She realizes she has no chance, helplessness striking her as hard as the drug.
 
She sobs, taking another breath of the drug, and she shudder as weakness floods her body. Still, she tries once more, a single desperate wiggle of her sexy body, then her vision goes black, and she falls still in her captor's arms.
 
#
 
Carol wakes slowly, her neck aches, her arms ache, her back aches, her jaw aches. She slowly raises her head, groaning in pain as she straightens her neck. Then she wakes sharply.
 
Carol is upright, her arms pulled above her head: she feels heavy bonds around her wrists holding her up, her body stretched, her toes hovering a few inches above the ground beneath her so she hangs suspended with her back against the wall behind her.
 
Her jaw is stretched open by a large rubber ball, heavy straps holding it in are wrapped around her head, pulled tight and buckled behind her head, some of her long hair caught in the straps.
 
Stripped naked, her bare body is cold, her naked skin gleaming in dim light that shines on her. Blinking her eyes, Carol looks wildly around, confused, frightened. She hangs in a dark room, lit only by a single light that shines on her. She blinks her eyes, and as her eyes adjust to the dim light she sees someone in a corner, sitting in a chair.
 
"Who are you?" Carol tries to shout, but the huge gag reduces her voice to a mumble.
 
He just sits there, watching her.
 
"Mhmm!" Carol whimpers; she tries to move, to tug against her bonds, but it only hurts her sore helpless body. She hangs limply, whimpering weakly, staring with wide eyes at her captor.
 
He stands to his feet and starts walking toward her. Carol stares with wide eyes, breathless, frozen.
 
He steps close enough that a little light shines on his face and Carol gasps, recognizing her old boss!
 
"Carol. . ." he says slowly. "So glad you're awake. I know you're scared, which is good because you should be." He smiles, his lips parting in a wicked curve, his teeth gleaming dangerously in the half of his face lit by the light, the other half in shadow.
 
Carol's heart beats hard in her chest, her breath catching, her belly tightening with heat as she stares at him, helpless prey staring at the dark spider who has her in his web.
 
He steps closer. "I have so many plans for you."
 
Carol takes a breath, a short gasp as her heart flutters; she feels warm under his gaze, his gleaming hungry stare that runs over her sexy helpless body.
 
He steps still closer. "I have had these urges for a very long time now. But you had changed jobs before I had a chance to confront you about them."
 
Carol whimpers in her throat, her teeth shifting around the huge gag; she trembles, her thighs pressing together around her soft hot flesh.
 
He stands within arm's reach of her, looking her in the eye with a menacing smile. "So now, here we are."
 
Carol swallows hard, frozen, her eyes by his.
 
"Are you ready for a lifetime of fun? Those pretty little nipples are going to be sooo sore tomorrow!"
 
Carol trembles in terror, but she can feel her nipples harden in the cool air.
 
He stares at her for a long moment, then his brows furrow, he frowns, his eyes boring into her. "Are you-" he starts to say.
 
Carol gasps for breath, her breasts rising and falling.
 
He reaches out with his left hand, reaching down to shove his hand between her thighs, pressing his fingers up into her slit, calloussed fingers sliding over her slick folds.
 
"You slut!" he exclaims. "You're getting off on this!"
 
Carol hangs her head, her cheeks burning with shame.
 
His right hand is suddenly there, wrapped around her throat, squeezing, tightening. She jerks her head up, staring wide-eyed at him. "Mhgph!" she splutters weakly around her ballgag.
 
He stares in her eyes. "Don't look away from me," he commands, his voice low and threatening.
 
Carol nods her head frantically. "Mhm-hm!" she gasps.
 
His lips curl. "You're just getting more wet!" he says contemptuously, his fingers caressing her soft flesh. "I'm a pervert, but you're a slut!"
 
Carol trembles, her body caught in his grip, his stare, his bonds. Her breasts heave, her nipples standing out hard. She stares back into his eyes, his contemptuous gaze and she burns with shame, with shame and also with arousal.
 
Then something changes, a flicker behind her eyes, something clicking in her brain. Instead of flinching away from his grip on her neck, she lifts her chin slightly, inviting it. She presses her hips forward, arching her pained back to rub her wet hot flesh against his rough fingers. She looks him in the eye and she smiles around the huge ballgag he gave her; a wicked inviting smile reflected in the gleam in her eyes.
 
He stares at her for a long moment, his expression unchanging. Then he smiles, slowly, his eyes shifting, a look of delight on his face as he presses his fingers up hard into her soft flesh, flexing his fingers to caress her, his calloussed fingertips rubbing against her, sending sparks flying on her nerves; her helpless trained body quivers with reaction to hot pleasure radiating through her, a soft moan slips past her gagged lips as she stares at him, inviting, begging.
 
He smirks, then leans close, still holding her by the throat, and he presses his lips to hers, kissing her around the huge ballgag.
 
Carol moans in helpless delight, her lips working around the rubber ball to kiss him back, she presses herself weakly toward him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her naked legs caressing his, her feet catching behind his knees; she moans in passion, her eyes closed as she clings to him with a sudden desperate need stronger than any fear.
 
He breaks it off and draws back to look her in the eye with a chuckle. "You are going to spend a lot of time screaming!" he tells her.
 
Carol pants, her body trembling, her crotch pressed hard against his - she can hardly wait!
 

Fenix At The Diner

By Jax

Fenix leans forward on her stool, leaning her elbows on the diner’s macadam countertop, her wide green eyes sparkling as she glances down the counter. Tanned and lean, she lounges on the stool, her long legs thrust idly out, her tight red dress clinging to her every curve, her firm breasts, narrow waist and wide graceful hips. Her heart-shaped face is framed by long curly red hair that tumbles across her shoulders and down her back. “Hey,” she calls.

 

Down the counter, Frances glances up at her from rubbing the scarred plastic counter with a dirty cloth, her long wavy orange hair tumbling out from beneath her cap in a fall of firey curls falls away from her narrow gray eyes as she glances at Fenix. “Yes?” she asks.

 

“Come here,” Fenix says, gesturing with her hand; this early, they are the only two in the diner.

 

Curious, Frances walks over, her tan uniform tight around her tight lean frame. “Yes?” she asks, standing opposite Fenix, laying her hands on the counter.

 

Fenix cocks her head to the side, glancing up at Frances. “Since it’s just you and me,” she says softly, her red lips curved in an inviting smile. “Why don’t you and I pass the time together?"

 

Frances blinks at her in surprise. “Oh,” she says softly. “Well- thank you, but, I don’t swing that way.”

 

Fenix lays her hands on Frances’, gently running her fingers over Frances’ soft skin. “Who said you have to swing?” she asks. “Just go with the flow.”

 

“Well, I-”

 

Without a word, Fenix reaches across the counter and grabs Frances by the straps of her apron. She pulls Frances close and kisses her gently on the lips.

 

Frances freezes, then her lips part and she moans softly as their tongues meet and twine, testing and tasting each other. Frances melts against Fenix, her moans rising and Fenix lowers her hands to the waitress’ breasts, squeezing and kneading them through the thin material of her uniform.

 

Fenix slides across the counter, pulling open the top of her dress, letting her full round breasts sway freely; Frances tears open her uniform, pulling down her white bra to bare her firm pert breasts to the air.

 

Fenix lets off Frances’ lips to trail kisses down her chin and neck to lay her lips over Frances’ nipple, sucking and licking it to make it stand up firm and hard in her mouth.

 

Frances throws her head back and gasps with pleasure, her arms going around Fenix’s shoulder, holding her close as Fenix switches to her other breast, running her tongue around the nipple in a circle, running her hot wet tongue against it, over it, kissing and suckling at it until Frances moans, her eyes pressed shut, her breath coming short.

 

Fenix tears Frances’ uniform open, baring her tight belly and lacy white panties: she presses Frances to the floor. “Oh, my god!” Frances gasps. “What if someone comes in-” her protest ends in a moan as Fenix presses her fingers into Frances’ pussy. 

 

“Then they’ll get a great show,” Fenix whispers, tearing the soft panties away. She lowers her lips to Frances’ pussy, sliding her tongue through the soft folds of Frances’ slit to slide over the hard little nub of her clit.

 

Frances moans as Fenix kisses and licks her below, sending warm spark flying through her body, a rising fire that spreads over her, sending her higher and higher toward a desperate, screaming climax.

By J.B. Hickock 'Pornwriter'


Jasmine Jewel, Lady Chloroform, steps into her lab, her dark green eyes thoughtful behind her glasses. In contrast to her normal outfit of some type of lab coat and skirt combo, tonight she wears a Wonder Woman costume, tight bustier, tall boots, dark blue hair pulled into a pony tail, her firm breasts almost popping out of her top as she leans over a table. She is going tonight to a special gathering, invitation-only, to see a great breakthrough, only for people like her of high intelligence and. . . special tastes.

But as she leans over her desk, Jasmine's narrow heart-shaped face twists into a snarl: someone has been in her lab!

No sooner has she  made the realization, then firm hands grab Jasmine from behind, an arm loops around her body, slapping a sweet-smelling cloth over her mouth and nose.

"Mhmmph!" Jasmine cries out, her eyes flying open with shock. She struggles to escape, lunging back with her arms, kicking desperately with her legs, but too late; her attacker has a firm grip on her; Jasmine's heels scrape on the floor as she is dragged backward, frustrating her attempts to get them under her. Her lungs burning, Jasmine takes a breath, and her lab wobbles before her eyes. she can feel her arms and legs growing weaker as the powerful drug takes effect.

She grabs at the wrist of the hand hand holding the cloth to her face and wrenches at it with all her might, but her weakened fingers slip from their grip. "Uh-uh!" a girlish voice whispers in her ear. "Just take a deep breath like a good girl!"

Jasmine's eyes widen with shock as she recognizes the voice. . . hers! She gasps in surprise, taking in another breath of the drug, and her eyes go dark around the edges. Her head droops as her neck goes limp. Desperate, Jasmine braces her feet, and shoves herself backward, but her attacker steps backward a bit, then braces herself, holding Jasmine helpless in her grip. "There you go. . ." she whispers, her hot breath stirring on Jasmine's cheek. "That's right. . ." she says, her voice going quiet in jasmine's ear as her vision goes dark. "Sleep. . . Sleep. . ."

#

Jasmine wakes with a start. "Mmmph?!" she cries out, her cry muffled to a moan by the big ballgag strapped in her mouth.

"Oh, you're awake!" a voice identical to her own says, and a pair of tall black boots step into Jasmine's view. Jasmine hangs upside down just above the floor, and as she looks up(or down, from her perspective) she can feel numberless bands of rope wound tightly around her body. Jasmine cranes her neck, raising her eyes over the trailing edge of a black cloak, to a black latex-covered crotch, over a tight hourglass figure -her own- up to a smiling, gloating face. Her own. "Hello, Jasmine," her doppleganger in a Raven costume says. "You can call me. . . Beryl." She laughs at the look on Jasmine's face.

"What an amazing coincidence, two of us, who look sooo much alike- we might be long-lost twins!" She leans close to Jasmine, looking her in her furious eyes with a grin. "Well, 'sister,' I think you should stay home from this party. But!" she adds with a wider grin. "I'm not going to leave you alone!"  With a flourish, she whips out a large vibrator.

"Nhmm!" Jasmine whimpers, shaking her head.

"Oh, you don't wanna cum while I'm out? Sure, anything for my sister!" Beryl says with an evil glint in her eye as she dials the vibrator down, then she reaches up and slides it into Jasmine's costume.

"Mhmm!" Jasmine moans, squirming her bound body as the vibrator slides into her. She gasps,  her naked breasts heaving, released from her upside-down costume by their own weight. Her nipples harden as the soft buzzing mounts inside her, her breasts bobbing as she jerks and sways from side to side. "Mhmm?" she whimpers, staring pleadingly up at her 'sister.'

Beryl laughs in her face, turning away. "Don't cause trouble while I'm gone, sister!" she calls over her shoulder.

"Mhmmmm!" Jasmine screams as the door slams shut, locking her away.

#

Jasmine writhes in her bonds, her helpless body squirming, her hips pumping as she tries to grind herself on the vibrator inside her. at first it was an outrage, she hated it. Then she started to like it, then she liked it more, then it took her close to the edge of a climax, and then it left her there.

She hangs there, desperately trying to push herself over, her naked skin flushed and pink, the air redolent with her arousal, powerful mad scientist reduced to a helpless slut, desperate to cum, by coils of rope and a merciless little machine.

The door slams open.

"Mwahh!" Jasmine cries out pleadingly.

"Aww, did you miss me?" Beryl asks mockingly. still in her Raven costume, she carries a small package in her hand. "Well, look what I got!" she says in a mocking sing-song tone, holding it before Jasmine's eyes.

"Mhmm!" Jasmine cries out angrily. She jumps and squirms in her bonds, biting down on her gag, glaring up at Beryl who only laughs at her.

"The best part?" she says, leaning down to look Jasmine in the eye. "Everyone will blame you for the theft! I mean, what could you tell them?" Beryl asks rhetorically. "'My identical twin did it?' Come on! Who'd believe that?"

"I would, actually."

Beryl's eyes widen in fright, then powerful arms wrapped in dark gloves reach around her, clapping a cloth over her mouth, and jerking her back.

"Mhmmph!" Beryl cries out, sounding just like Jasmine did when she did the same to her.

Jasmine watches, fascinated as Beryl squirms in her attacker's hands, kicking out with her feet, tugging at the powerful arms that hold her, her breasts working as she struggles to not breathe in the drug fumes. Jasmine can see the desperation in Beryl's eyes, can see them water as her lungs burn, starved of oxygen. She takes a breath, and her slim body trembles in her captor's arms. Beryl's cries grow weaker, her flailing slows, her eyes close, snapping open again as she fights to stay awake. But finally, Beryl goes limp in her captor's arms, and is laid down on the floor.

Jasmine gets her first look at her rescuer, and gasps through her gag.

She is tall, taller than Jasmine or Beryl, and she wears black knee-high boots that gleam redly, and gloves likewise that stretch halfway up her arms. She is naked other than those, her skin glowing in reds and yellows, like a hungry fire. Her curly fire-like hair hangs down almost to her waist, and a black eye patch covers her right eye.

She ignores Jasmine, leaning over Beryl's prone body. She grabs up some coils of rope, identical to those binding Jasmine, and sets to work on Beryl, wrapping rope around her wrists and elbows, stretching her costume as her breasts are pressed out by the tight elbow tie. More rope goes around her chest, squeezing her breasts, pressing them out even further. A veritable web of rope goes around her body, sinking into her soft flesh, and between her legs to anchor her bonds tightly. The fire-woman binds Beryl's legs next, above and below the knees, and her ankles, then turns, rising to her feet to meet Jasmine's eyes. "I am Pyra," she says. "The Flame."

Jasmine shakes her head, mumbling into her gag.

Pyra nods. "You've never heard of me. I'm new around here. But soon everyone will know my name, and you two are just the start of it!"

"Twmph?" Jasmine moans.

"Yes. You didn't think I was rescuing you, did you?" Pyra says. "You are both wanted for a host of crimes." Pyra puts her hands on her hip and shakes her head regretfully. "Two sisters, and both involved in so many of the same criminal activities. . ."

Jasmine squeaks as Pyra approaches her, the drugged cloth in hand. Jasmine  squirms desperately as the superhero reaches her, grabbing her with one gloved hand (even through the glove, Jasmine can feel the heat), and slapping the chrloroform-soaked cloth over her mouth and nose. "Mhmmph!" Jasmine moans, but a shiver runs through her bound body, sending her swaying slowly over the edge. She utters a muffled cry, her eyes rolling back in her head, her trim body flailing as the drug races through her system. Jasmine's limp body shudders as the still-buzzing vibrator works at her, and she utters a shrill scream as she cums, bucking and squirming as pleasure and drug rock her body, then all goes dark, her last sensation the smell of chloroform and the feel of ecstasy.