Arcade's New Niche

BY : Masterdudemind
Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 60869
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Arcade’s New Niche’
Main cast
Arcade
Miss Locke
Magma: Amara Aquila
Moonstar: Danielle Moonstar
Husk: Paige Guthrie
Wolfsbane: Rahne Sinclair
Firebird: Bonita Juarez
Tigra: Greer Grant Nelson
Namorita: Namorita Prentiss
Silverclaw: Maria de Guadalupe Santiago
Jolt: Hallie Takahama
Songbird: Melissa Gold
Dagger: Tandy Bowen
Citizen V: Dallas Roirdan.
Free Spirit: Cathy Webster
M: Monet St. Croix


Location Secret


“Gah, look at these crappy assignments, Miss Locke! Could this be any more boring?” The assassin known as Arcade whined from inside his control booth of Murderworld. He was resting his hands on his chin while he watched the scene below on the monitors. Down below were several reporters whom had crossed the wrong dictator were fighting for their lives against the deadly amusement park, but the carnival killer barely cared. Behind him stood his assistant, the beautiful dragon lady known as Miss Locke.

“It helps pay the bills, dear.”

“Yeah, but it’s so boring. Killing guys like Spider-Man, Captain Britain, the X-Men, guys like that are a challenge!”

“To be fair dear, you haven’t killed one of them yet.”

Arcade slumped back in his chair, and pouted, “Yeah, but that’s never stopped guys like Bullseye and Deadpool and other killers from getting good assignments.”

“Perhaps, but they have a good deal of, shall we say…infamy?”

“Hey, hey, hey! I got infamy! I’m ruthless! I’m cool!” Arcade said defensively.

“But you’ve failed to kill a single hero, despite numerous contracts.”

“It’s hard…”Arcade muttered under his breath. If it was anyone else talking to him thus, Arcade wouldn’t hesitate to have them killed. But he respected Miss Locke’s opinion and her judgment. Something had to be done.

“Perhaps we should focus on your strengths.” Miss Locke proposed, “Not everyone needs heroes killed, and you’ve managed to capture every target you’ve set your sights upon.”

“True.” Arcade mused. He’d single handily captured the X-Men, Spiderman, and countless other heroes. Suddenly, a little light bulb went off inside his head, “If it’s infamy I need, it’s infamy I’ll get. Screw killing a hero…heh, screw…”

Salem Center, Virginia


Danielle Moonstar, Rahne Sinclair, Paige Guthrie and Amara Aquila, known better respectively as Moonstar, Wolfsbane, Husk and Magma, made their way up the walkway of a quaint little two story how where Professor X’s cerebro had detected the presence of a powerful mutant. The Professor had called ahead and made arrangements, and the three young women were simply there to finalize everything so that they could bring the young mutant to the institute to be trained in the use of her mutant powers.

“Why do ye think that the mum only asked for women to see her daughter?” Rahne asked in her Scottish brogue

“Lady said her daughter was pretty freaked out. I guess she thought us girls could help her out.” Danielle proposed.

“I still think my being out here is a waste of my time.” Amara snapped.

“I think yer just being petty. We’re here to help a fellow mutant!” Paige said.

Danielle knocked on the door and smirked, “Yeah, what’s the difference between wasting time here and wasting time at the mansion?”

“I prefer the mansion. It’s more fitting to someone of my station.”

Before Danielle could reply, a middle-aged woman opened the door, “You must be from the institute! Please, come in!”

The mother motioned for the four young women to enter.

“What powers has your daughter demonstrated, Ms. Gameston? The Professor said you were rather vague on the phone.” Moonstar asked.

The mother led them into the living room and shifted uncomfortably, “It’s rather embarrassing.”

“What? Skin extension?” Amara mocked. Husk elbowed her in the rips playfully.

“No, she’s like me. Lots of gas!” Before the four young mutants could respond to the odd statement, they heard a loud hissing sound, and a yellowish gas shot out her mouth. Before the four mutants could react, they were rendered unconscious by the nerve gas.

“Ah, gas. Cliché’ to be sure.” Arcade chuckled as he entered the room casually. The gas had no effect on him whatsoever, as it was designed not to. Sauntering into the room, the clown like killer looked down at the sleeping mutants, “cliché’, but effective none the less!”

“Ya know, when I faked a mutant signal, I never thought I’d get this much meat this fresh!” He laughed. He knelt down to Husk’s sleeping form. He carefully unbuckled her pants, and pulled them down slightly. Moving her silk panties aside, he pushed his hand into her warm neither regions. Paige moaned softly and her pussy began to moisten as Arcade’s fingers sent tiny waves of pleasure up thru her spine.

“Shaven, responsive…”Arcade pushed his hand in farther, and Paige moaned even louder and began to slightly move her hips forward, as if pleading for more.

“Very responsive…”Arcade corrected. He continued probing, and finally found the answer to his question, “But still a virgin! This white meat’s still fresh!”

Arcade pulled his fingers out of the young blond’s cunt and stuck them in her mouth, using Paige’s slack jaw to rinse his hands of her love juices.

“I trust everything went according to plan?” Ms. Locke asked as she entered the room.

“Yuppers! You got those life model decoys ready?”

“Of course. When our thermite bombs go off, the X-Men will find the LMDs and assume them to be the bodies of these young ladies.”

Arcade licked his lips as he looked down at the four unconscious mutants. They were all dressed casually, but even thru their clothes it showed that their bodies were well out of the awkward teen stage and well into womanhood.

“Oh, if they only knew what we will be doing with and to the bodies of these young women.” Arcade said as he licked his lips in anticipation of the activities to come.

New York, New York


“Wow, now that’s what I call a woman!” Arcade remarked as he and Miss Locke (dressed as every day New Yorkers) watched Tandy Bowen, otherwise known as Dagger, hurl several of her light knives at a gang of drug dealers while dancing around skillfully discreetly from across the street. Her full breasts seemed to bounce in rhythm with her attacks and the energy from her fingers illuminated her flawless face and platinum blond hair perfectly. Her partner Cloak swallowed the criminals Dagger missed, their union a perfect team.

“Shall we make our move?” Miss Locke asked

“No, but lets get closer to the action. I wanna see the goods!”

Arcade and his assistant casually approached the mass of criminals Cloak and Dagger were combating with ease, unnoticed by either side. Careful to stand just outside of the danger area, the two observed their prey intently, like lions ready to strike. Arcade in particular found his eyes locked on Dagger’s perfectly rounded ass and breasts, nearly hypnotized by their movements. After what seemed like an eternity to the horny villain, the heroic duo finished the criminals, and turned their attention towards the secret killers.

“What do you two want?” Cloak asked menacingly.

Arcade thought for a moment, and answered truthfully, sparing no detail. Dagger gasped in shock, and Cloak’s chest tightened in rage.

“You will die.” Cloak snarled as he began to step forward.

“Miss Locke?” Was all Arcade said in response.

The woman’s hand became a blur, a gun almost appearing out of thin air in her hand, and she fired it at Dagger. Tandy attempted to dodge, but Miss Locke had been studying her fighting style, and didn’t have a chance. A thin metal dart struck Dagger in her well-rounded ass, and Dagger cried out as she felt her vision begin to blur, and her light began increase dramatically.

Cloak saw this all, and he smacked Miss Locke aside and grabbed Arcade by his collar and held him up in the air threateningly, “What did you do to her!”

“Just gave her a special drug cocktail, is all.” Arcade smiled, “It’s a neat little thing. Only works for a few seconds, but burns a person’s powers out from the inside out. I’d say she’s about five seconds from meltdown. What, you’re still here?”

Cloak threw Arcade to the ground, and rushed to Dagger’s side. He enfolded her within his namesake cloak, and began draining the excess light from Dagger like he’d down countless times before. Only this time, the intensity was far more than he was used to. But Cloak held on, desperate to save his soulmate from certain death.

Miss Locke and Arcade smiled in satisfaction as they heard Cloak’s scream of pain. They casually reached into the jackets they wore, pulled out a pair of Ray ban sunglasses, placed them on and smiled like the Cheshire Cat as Cloak was consumed in a silent explosion of white light.

When the light died down, all that remained was several scraps of a dark blue cloak, and the nude Dagger, her chest rising and falling slowly and her now erect nipples pointing skywards.

“Excellent plan, Arcade.” Miss Locke commented as she signaled for Arcade’s men to pick up the nude heroine.

“Thank you, thank you.” Arcade took a mock bow, “I’d like to thank…damn it!”

“What’s wrong?”

Arcade kicked a loose Pepsi can in juvenile frustration, “I killed a hero, and I forgot to tape it! Or even get a contract!”

Miss Locke shrugged, “We don’t do this for the recognition, dear. And it was only Cloak, after all.”

Arcade glanced at the nude, limp body of Dagger being loaded into one of his trucks by his men, “True, and the fringe benefits are there.”

“What’s our next target then?”

“Oh, something much easier than this one, trust me.”

The twenty-foot tall body of the Thunderbolt known as Atlas smashed into an apartment building, sending debris and chunks of brick raining down raining down like oversized things of hail. His teammate Songbird and Charcoal flew past, ready for action. The creature who’d staggered Atlas slammed his hands together and the resultant sonic wave sent the two Thunderbolts flying back.

“Your definition of easy needs some reexamination.” Miss Locke noted as she and Arcade, now dressed in bright Hawaiian shirts, observed the full team of Thunderbolts fighting the Hulk.

“Why, whatever makes you say that?”

“HULK SMASH!”

Miss Locke grabbed Arcade’s shoulder and pushed him to the ground as a car turned projectile careened over their heads.

“Personal opinion is all.”

Arcade stood up and brushed himself off, “Women these days. Reminds me why I’m doin’ this.”

“Any one in particular?” Miss Locke asked as she observed Jolt, the female Citizen V and Hawkeye attempting to distract the jade giant while Moonstone and Atlas prepared to attack again.

“Why be choosey? Get out the ear muffs.” Arcade ordered. He took out a pair of headphones and placed them on his head. Arcade then pulled out a much smaller gun, almost the size of a water pistol, and aimed it towards where the Thunderbolts were combating the Hulk. But Arcade wasn’t aiming at any Thunderbolt, he aimed it Songbird's pink solid sound constructs. He pulled the trigger, and out shot a special bullet. It streaked thru the air, and latched itself onto a discarded fragment of solid sound and bored inside of it.

The Thunderbolts and Hulk never knew what hit them. Their ears were assaulted more violently than they ever thought possible by supersonics, and in moments they were out like a light, their brains unable to cope with such pain. Arcade and Miss Locke strode thru the former battle scene, surveying the defeated heroes and heroines. Even though their ears were protected from the incredible sonic pulse, their teeth ached painfully. But even that couldn’t wipe the smile off Arcade’s face. He knelt down to Citizen V and removed her mask, revealing the perfect face of Dallas Roirdan.

“Hey, this one’s a red read! I got me another!” Arcade boasted.

“Who shall we take?” Miss Locke asked, “Jolt, Songbird, Moonstone?”

“Every babe but Moonstone.” Arcade answered, “she’s too slippery, too powerful and too smart. Bad combination.”

“It almost sounds like you’re afraid of her.” Miss Locke needled.

“Hah!” Arcade scoffed, “Have the men load the other babes. I’ll deal with Moonstone.”

Arcade strode over to where the limp heroine was laying prone on her back, still unconscious from the sonic pulse. Arcade unzipped his pants and allowed his flacid cock to spring out. Arcade bent down and grabbed the side of Moonstone’s. With one thrust, he pushed her slack jaw around his cock.

“Oh yeah…” Arcade groaned as the warmness of her mouth caused his cock to instantly spring to life. He bobbed her head back and forth, and to his surprise, Moonstone began slowly caressing his cock with her tongue.

“Bitch does it so much, it’s automatic!” Arcade thought to himself. With Moonstone’s skilled mouth, it wasn’t long before he finally came. But rather than shooting it down Moonstone’s throat, he pulled out at the last instant and sprayed her face with his load. Arcade then dropped the unconscious heroine to the ground, and zipped himself back up.

“So many heroines, so little time.” He sighed.


Cathy Webster, other known as the heroine Free Spirit, was easily captured when Arcade deduced the pattern of her patrols and ambushed her atop an abandoned apartment building. Two poisoned darts to her shapely ass was all it took.


Greer Nelson, the world famous heroine Tigra, was defeated when Arcade used her own enhanced senses against her. He attacked her with thugs who’s uniforms were drenched in a special, scentless narcotic. She was defeated in less than five minutes.

Maria de Guadalupe Santiago, known better as Silverclaw, was ensnared by Arcade after he faked a ‘secret mission’ call from Captain America. Bonita Juarez, Firebird, was caught exactly the same way, much to the delight and amusement of Arcade.

Monet St. Croix, known as M, and Namorita were captured as they were out shopping, though on separate occasions. They both were lured into prison cells designed to look like dressing rooms, and the women freely walked inside.


Finally deciding he’d captured enough heroines, Arcade decided to take a moment to admire his collection. All fourteen captured heroines were strapped down unconscious to medical beds, an I.V in each of their arms feeding them vital nutrients. Another striking feature is that all the women were nude and their nipples were fully erect, thanks to the cool temperature that Arcade kept the room at. Their breasts rose and fell in peaceful harmony as they slept a drugged sleep.

“It’s like a pornographic doll collection.”

“The doctors say the implants will in tomorrow.” Miss Locke stated evenly, “then the fun can begin.”

“Good, good. Any contracts yet?” Arcade asked as he approached Citizen V’s bedside. The rising and falling of the big breasted and well-defined red head was naturally an erotic sight to behold, to say nothing of the others. Arcade ran his fingers over Dallas’ unshaved cunt, just enjoying the feel of superheroine pussy.

“Oh yes. More than we’d hoped for, in fact.”

“Good, lovely. And how are the various hero teams doing in tracking down our little playthings?”

“The scraps of clues we left all point in directions completely away from us. Most have yet to even be reported as missing, in fact.”

Arcade stopped rubbing Dallas’ cunt and smiled happily, “Then the show will go on!”

“Um…boss? Could we have a word?” An obviously cowered voice asked. The two assassins looked towards the doorway of the makeshift medical lab, and saw John Myers, head of Arcade’s men, standing there uncomfortably.

“Yyyeeesss?” Arcade asked mockingly.

“Me and the boys, we were wonderin’…well, if it would…”

“You wanna fuck the heroines.” Arcade deadpanned.

“Umm…yeah. If that’s okay, I mean.”

Arcade thought for a moment. His people were deathly afraid of him, but he might have a mutiny on his hands if he just ignored the carnal needs of his men. And they had followed his plans to the letter, enabling him to get this far.

“Sure thing. Only two conditions.”

John’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“First, no fucking the virgins! Silverclaw, Wolfsbane, Firebird, Jolt, Dagger and Husk are strictly off limits.” He ordered, “And two, you only get to use their cunts. No unstrapping the unconscious heroines so you can fuck their ass and maybe screw up everything I’ve done thus far. They stay on their backs, got it?”

“No problem boss, that it?”

“I suppose. But you numb nuts screw anything up, and I’ll kill you all five times over!”

“Not to worry, Arcade. I’ll stay and watch.” Miss Locke offered. John, while delighted that Arcade would allow him and his men a shot at the superheroine pussy, become a little more somber. Miss Locke scared him, he was man enough to admit that, and anytime he had to be in the same room as her he was uncomfortable. But his horniness overrode his fear, and he called the men in. He lined them up, explained the rules and let them in one by one. John, being the boss, naturally had first dibs, and he decided chose the blond haired Free Spirit.

Disrobing quickly, he climbed atop the bed and took a moment to marvel at her perfect form. Cathy Webster, as a direct result of her powers, was granted a physically perfect body. The blond girl had an almost hour glass figure with firm breasts that would be the envy of most models. It took less than five seconds for John’s large cock to become fully erect.

He entered the heroine slowly, aware of the lack of lubrication but only caring as it concerned his pleasure. Cathy’s face tightened as she slept, and John remembered hearing the boss say that even though they were still asleep, they could still feel everything that was happening to them. John wondered wryly what dreams the heroine was having as he entered her warm pussy. John smiled as he felt her tighten around his cock in an unconscious attempt to expel his barely embedded cock. But all it did was encourage him.

John continued snaking his long pole into her tight cunt, painfully expanding it for the defeated heroine. Cathy moaned in pain as she was invaded, still asleep but in deep pain nonetheless. John began rocking his cock back in forth inside of her, working himself ever deeper into her tight body. Cathy moaned and tensed even more as John began sawing in and out of her pussy without regard to her pain faster and faster. Her heroine body was tighter than anything John had ever raped before, and it was driving him crazy. To the sleeping Cathy it was like someone was rubbing sandpaper thru her pussy.

Not content to just violate her cunt, John began toying with Cathy’s breasts, rubbing her erect nipples between his fingers and mashing her breasts. On a whim, John took her left breast into his mouth and bit down as hard as he thought he could without breaking the skin, all the while pounding his cock into her like a knife. Cathy cried out in pain again, but didn’t awake.

“No…stop…please…” Cathy said lazily. Even asleep, she could recognize she was being raped but was helpless to do anything about it. Cathy bucked her hips to get away, but all she did was drive his cock in even farther into her private depths. His cock finally pierced her womb and bobbed back and forth inside of it, like a perverted whack a mole.

As experienced a rapist as John was, even he had his limits. The incredible tightness around his cock, lubricated now by Free Spirit’s blood and juices, was simply too much. He raped her passionately for ten minutes before he unleashed his load inside her womb, and slumped atop of her exhausted.

“Even asleep, this one’s one of the best I’ve ever had.” He remarked as he withdrew his cock from her tight snatch.

Miss Locke, standing between the sleeping forms of Silverclaw and Jolt, her hands expertly manipulating their clits, as evidenced by the pool of juices underneath their pussies. She’d brought the two sleeping heroines to multiple orgasms while keeping an eye on the men. There was nothing else like watching someone be abused to Miss Locke, and the scene that played out before her nearly made her cream effortlessly.

Citizen V and Namorita were being tit and pussy fucked at the same time. The large blond and big-breasted Magma’s slack mouth was being used to wash the dirty cocks of those who’d blown their load while another man fisted her cunt with his entire hand. One creative guard had pushed Moonstar’s limber legs up and mashed them up against her breasts to get access to her tight anus, and slammed into her as hard as he could. The rest were being brutally fucked with an amazing vigor as moans of pain filled the air.

***

As Monet St. Croix, the beautifully dark skinned mutant known as M slowly rejoined the waking world, she noted the odd breeze she felt on her privates. Thinking drearily she was home in bed, she reached for the sheets she assumed to be there only to find her arms restrained. That immediately got her attention. Attempting to speak, she found that she had a ball gag jammed into her mouth. Now fully awake, she opened her eyes and saw over a dozen other heroines, including an old classmate, shared her predicament.

Like everyone else, Monet was hung from the ceiling by her arms like a slab of beef with a ball gags secured in their mouths in a medium sized room. Six other heroines were hanging beside her with their backs to the wall while across the room hung another six. In the center, wide awake but restrained spread eagle on her back to a cold metal to a cold metal slab was the Avenger Tigra. That so many heroines had been captured worried Monet’s normally cold and calculating mind. Their captor was obviously very skilled and cunning, making escape that much more difficult.

And the fact that they were all as naked as the day they were born didn’t help matters any.

The women waited roughly half an hour in confusion and fear before Arcade strutted into the room alongside Miss Locke. He pointed what looked like a T.V remote at Tigra. The women could see Tigra’s eyes shoot wide open in surprise and she began to squirm wildly as much as her bonds would allow, though no one could tell why. Arcade smirked, and then turned towards his captive heroines.

“Greetings and salutations, babes. For those who do not know who I am, you may call me Arcade, master assassin.” He walked over to Danielle Moonstar and swatted her breasts playfully. Knowing her legs weren’t restrained in any way, she attempted to kick the red headed killer, but her legs failed to respond. Arcade saw to that.

“But that’s all in the past. Killers and assassins are a dime a dozen today. When I’ve shuffled off this mortal coil, I want people to say ‘Boy, I’m glad that twisted mother fucker is gone’.”

Arcade walked to the Rahne Sinclair, and rubbed the red headed girl’s unshaven pussy slowly, just taking in the feel of her red pubic hair. Rahne looked away and wept, her incredible modesty making the molestation even harder to bear.

“But so far, I gotta say I failed. I’m an also ran. So’s naturally, I need to change my tactics.”

Arcade walked over to Firebird and inserted his first three fingers into her tight cunt. The light brown skin, the smell of lavender that hung to her, well sculpted body and the air of authority she carried herself with made Arcade so horny that he wanted to fuck her right then and there, but he restrained himself. For the most part, anyways. He thrusted his fingers in and out of her tight, shaved pussy, but Firebird just looked straight ahead in an attempt to ignore his intrusion in her most sacred place.

“So I figure, why not get me some heroines and humiliate them beyond anyone else before, and keep doing it until it gets boring?”

Arcade stopped fingering Firebird and wiped her juices off on the breasts of Husk, who was hanging beside the fiery heroine.

“So that’s why you’re here. Simple really.”

Arcade walked to where Tigra was strapped down spread eagle on a metal table, twisting furiously. Drool was sliding down the side of her face and her pussy was leaking like an old sink. He grabbed a single orange furred breast and jiggled it back and forth playfully.

“But what’s to keep you ladies from using your incredible powers against me? I’m glad you asked!”

Arcade reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin, metal strip no longer or wide than a stick of gum.

“This is a neat little toy specially made by A.I.M attached inside your superheroine pussies. You can’t feel them, but they’re there baby. They connect to your nervous system and let me turn off your powers, or anything other part of your bodies, like a light. Among other things.”

Arcade pressed another button, and all the women felt a warm tingling in their neither regions. A hunger, almost. The more sexually experienced heroines recognized that they felt horny and stimulated.

“Settings such as horny, or…”

The heroines screamed as one in unbearable pain as the tingling in their privates turned to a jolt of electricity on their tender regions.

“Punishment button.”

Arcade stepped in front of Namorita and Songbird’s nude bodies and looked them up and down lustfully. Namorita was an incredible sight, long blond haired and striking blue eyes and stared hungrily at her large breasts with their quarter size auroras and erect nipples and at the thick patch of blonde hair between her legs. Songbird was much slimmer, with small breasts that complimented her petite figure and a cleanly shaved pussy.

“And know what you’re all thinking, attack the little red head before he can press the button. But just so you know, not only do Miss Locke and I have a control devise, but so does a man in a secret control room that you will never, ever see. You ain’t getting out like that.”

Arcade walked in front of where Tigra was restrained, and undid his pants. He climbed atop the table and inserted his erect cock inside her waiting wet hole.

“Miss Locke, please remove the ball gag.”

Miss Locke did as she was ordered, and Tigra let out a primal scream.

“Fuck me you bastard! Please, fill me with your cock!” Tigra pleaded, desperate to be screwed, to sate the hunger between her legs. She pushed her hips forward as much as the straps would allow.

“As the cliché’ goes, your wish is my command!” Arcade penetrated her roughly and just started hammering away with no skill or subtlety at all. Greer, to her eternal shame, bucked her hips forward and squeezed his cock with her pussy as best she could, trying to get every last bit of pleasure of it. Arcade came quickly, and Tigra wept in frustration. She was still unsatisfied, but it was bearable now.

“Please…more…” She begged. The other heroines looked away, fearful that Tigra’s fate was what Arcade had planned for them all.

“Sorry, we got places to and people to screw. Well, at least for you ladies.”

Several guards filed into the room.

“Boys, help the ladies down, would ya? Remove their gags too. And remember girls, any funny stuff or threats and I use your cunts to toast smores!”

The guards released the heroines, and while a most moved to cover their treasures, none moved to attack. Arcade smiled toothily.

“Now, now, no need for modesty. Hands at your sides, ladies. Now.”

Everyone, with two exceptions, complied. The nineteen-year-old red head Rahne Sinclair, and Maria de Guadalupe Santiago, Silverclaw. Arcade decided to deal with Rahne first. He stood in front of her and looked down on the short, petite young woman.

“Got something in your ears, girl? I thought I was quite specific.”

“Leave her alone.” Danielle Moonstar growled, her chest heaving in anger. Arcade licked his lips as she stared at the nude woman. Danielle’s red skin glistened with sweat and her breasts pointed straight up, like she was wearing an invisible bra. Her body was that of a skilled athlete, not a trace of flab or fat to be found.

“Say anything else, and I’ll throw her naked into a room full of kiddy rapists.” Arcade threatened without even looking at Moonstar. Rahne started to shake even more at that statement while her face was a flush red in terrified humiliation, “Which I may still do if you don’t do what I say, girlie.”

Shaking in fear, Rahne allowed her arms to fall to her side, exposing her supple body for all to see. While in some ways Rahne Sinclair couldn’t hope to compare to some of the other women present, her appearance and demeanor was always that of an innocent, religious schoolgirl (which she was, to a degree). On a sadistic whim, he reached out and grabbed both her breasts on both hands and drove his thumbs into the tips of her nipples, mashing them. Rahne let out a yelp of pain and cried in shame. Arcade glanced to the side and saw that her friends, Moonstar, Husk and Magma were struggling to restrain themselves

“Please stop…” She begged, quaking in fear.

“For now,” Arcade released her breasts, “but you ladies better remember, you are mine. To do with as I wish.”

Arcade then approached Silverclaw, who was transfixed upon him like a deer caught in headlights. He suspected his demonstration on Rahne had the desired effect. He gently took her arms, and put them down to her side for her. Unlike Rahne, Maria was very well endowed for her short height. Impressively so for someone still maturing body, in fact. Maria’ body temperature rose when Arcade’s hands moved from her wrists to her breasts. Goose pimples covered her creamy brown skin when she felt Arcade’s cold hands cradle her large, ripe breasts, cupping them firmly as if to test their buoyancy.

“Good girl, you learn quickly.” Arcade turned away from her and stood in the center of the room.

“The more experienced ones among you probably feel a little soreness. Well, the boys, they were hungry last night so I let them have a taste. I know they shoulda asked first, but you ladies were so tired…!”

Arcade nearly laughed his ass of when he saw the looks of hatred, shock and anger in the women’s face, “Oh, don’t worry. You virgins weren’t touched, what fun would that have been? Now line up single file, two rows of seven, hands at your sides and lets get going!”

Reluctantly complying, the women lined up under the watchful eyes of the guards and followed Arcade out of the cell. He led them down a long hallway to a much larger room, only slightly different from the first. This one was bigger, sloped downwards slightly with several hoses in the center of the room and a drain. The guards lined the women up, seven on one side and seven on the other.

“I think this one’s kinda self explanatory. The more you cover yourself, the more we’re gonna spray ya.” Arcade explained. Arcade turned the hose on, and he and two other guards started blasting the heroines with painful jets of water, aiming mainly at their privates and breasts.

Tandy Bowen nearly had a heart attack when the nearly freezing cold water slammed against her breasts and face. Her fears for the fate of Cloak were forgotten now as she tried to protect herself from the jets of water. Arcade smiled wickedly as he alternated from spraying her breasts to painfully spraying her pussy with the hose, and back again. After several minutes, Arcade became bored and tormented another heroine.

Monet St. Croix remained impassive as her firm breasts were blasted with freezing cold water. One power Monet possessed that Arcade couldn’t take away was her superstrength, which enabled her to basically ignore temperature extremes. The guard spraying her didn’t care, though. The water helped highlight her tall, dark figure. The guard sprayed her nude form for five straight minutes, practically hypnotized by her African beauty and how the water dripped off her nipples.

Hallie Takahama, a small, lithe youth known as the Thunderbolt Jolt, however, fought a raging battle not to break down and cry as she was sprayed with freezing cold water. She was a prisoner once in her life, and it was easily the most horrible thing in her life, something she vowed she’d never let happen again. Only now that vow was broken. She was being treated as a piece of meat. She was under no illusions as to what Arcade intended to do when they were done here, but she was too scared to fight back. All she could do was stand there while she was hosed down like a dog. The looks of fear and degradation on the faces of her fellow teammates certainly didn’t help either.

Greer Nelson AKA Tigra, for one welcomed the freezing cold water that was sprayed over her body. She would never forget the humiliation of asking Arcade to fuck her like an escapee from a bad porno movie. His average sized cock barely satisfied her, and the feelings of his fluids inside her sickened her. So she welcomed the water on her orange fur. It was a distraction from the burning in her loins, if nothing else.

After half an hour of just hosing the heroines down like they were common barnyard animals, Arcade signaled for his men to stop.

“Okay boys, it’s rinse time!” Arcade said gleefully. The bone soaked and freezing cold heroines looked at each other and Arcade in confusion. Surely he didn’t have more humiliation in store!

Two men left the room, and returned with several more men, some carrying buckets of soapy water, others carrying sponges and soap bottles. Their intent was painfully clear.

“We wanna make sure they’re nice and clean for their big day! So wash ‘em real good!”

Namorita Prentiss’ strong, muscular body quaked with rage as she felt the rough hands of the guards paw and knead her firm breasts as they applied soap and skin conditioner to her body. The guards lathered her entire body in soap, carefully feeling every supple curve of her body. The guards even inserted a small amount of soap into her pussy with his left hand. He rubbed the soap back and forth along the insides of her tight love canal and laughed.

“Gotta get every little inch.” He winked at her. Namorita wanted to tear his head off (which she could physically do) but restrained herself. The punishment button of Arcade hurt worse than anything else she’d ever felt before, and never wanted to feel again. So while the man’s hands roamed the most private parts of her body, Namorita restrained her rage by thinking up revenge fantasies she’d swore she’d live out against each and every man here.

Bonita Juarez, the Hispanic superheroine called Firebird, remained stoical as a guard slowly applied the soap to her bronze skin and chest. Her breathing was normal as the man squirted out a small amount of soap onto his fingers and he applied them to her skin, like he was finger painting. The guard took his time, spirally the soap in circles around Bonita’s breasts until he finally reached her nipples. He took a moment to play with the love buds, bringing them to full erect. Bonita was only slightly embarrassed and quickened her prayers to God to save her.

Melissa Gold, Songbird, imagined that she should hate what was being done to her as the men scrubbed her body roughly with course sponges, but she didn’t. She’d used sex all her life, in some shape or another. Independence was a foreign concept to her. She lifted her arms as the men washed under her armpits, and unbidden opened her legs as they used the sponge to scrub her pussy. The strong and rough hands that controlled her were also very arousing the Melissa, to her slight embarrassment. Her pussy became naturally moist, and she prayed no one noticed.

Paige Guthrie was nearly in shock as a guard lathered her blond young, nubile body from behind. She could feel his erection underneath his pants pressing up against her tight anus, and he intentionally ‘bumped’ into her over a dozen times as he applied soap to every inch of her body.

“Your hair smells wonderful.” He commented as he rubbed shampoo into the long blond locks. Paige didn’t reply.

“Maybe later, Arcade will let me play with you. Just you and me, won’t that be fun?” He bumped his erect cock between her asscheek, and scrubbed the soap in harder. Paige hoped no one saw the slight trickle of liquid down her leg.

It took another hour for the horny guards to cover each heroine from head to toe in soap and skin conditioner, but Arcade felt it was time well spent. Finally, Arcade had one of his taller guards stand over the women with a hose and just spray downwards, washing all the soap off. Once the last heroine was rinsed off, Arcade was ready for the next stage.

“Alright ladies. Two lines, single file. Face the wall with you hands at your sides. Not a damn peep, or else.”

Fearful of the consequence of disobeying, the women complied. Arcade picked up a hose, and picked a target at random.

Amara Aquila, a princess in another land and mutant heroine Magma, could barely gasp as she felt Arcade push the tip of the hose into her tight, puckered anus. A second later, a jet of freezing water came out of the hose and painfully filled and stretched her bowels. Arcade left the hose in her tight buttocks for roughly thirty seconds before removing it. Water and fecal matter was instantly and painfully expelled as soon as it left her ass. Arcade easily sidestepped it and he washed Amara with the hose for several seconds before finishing with her. Amara was even more outraged than before, but did nothing.

“Not gonna have time for bathroom breaks where you ladies are goin’.” Arcade explained as he repeated his actions with Citizen V, while two more guards were doing the same to Free Spirit and Jolt. Within ten minutes, the anus’ of the heroines were as clean as the rest of their bodies.

Two guards then walked in a big basket of towels and dropped them in the center of the room.

“You ladies dry yourselves off now, but hurry we, we ain’t got all day.” Arcade ordered. The women quickly grabbed the towels and began drying off, but noticed a big pile of papers and photos of various people. Every single woman recognized several photos and the names and sceneries on the pieces of paper. They all stopped drying themselves and stared in horror.

“What’s wrong, not enough softener?” Arcade smirked as he ripped a towel away from Tigra, exposing her exotic body for all to see. Free Spirit grabbed several photos and held them up for Arcade to see.

“What is the meaning of this?” She asked fearfully, though most everyone knew what they were for.

“Oh, those?” Arcade twirled his towel up into a whip, “Just think of it as outside motivation, Ms. Webster. I know each and everyone of your real names baby, and all your social circles. Parents, grandparents, old boyfriends and girlfriends, classmates you don’t even remember, stuff like that. And I know how to kill each and everyone of them without anyone batting an eye.”

Arcade cruelly snapped his wet towel out, and caught Rahne directly on her clit with the end. Rahne crumbled in a howl of pain, and Amara and Danielle were at her weeping side in seconds.

“Bastard!” Amara hissed.

“Damn you, are you so pathetic a man you have to pick on a little girl!” Danielle spat.

“I just wanted to remind you ladies who’s in charge and just how much of a bastard I can be.” Arcade smiled evilly, “Any serious rebellion, and people die. And not just you. Now, I want you all dry in the next four minutes and lined up like you were before. Got it?”

With a speed which the women dried themselves made Arcade smile with satisfaction. Once they were all dried and lined up, Arcade walked up and down the room, observing and analyzing them intently like a farmer surveying new stock.

“Namorita, Tandy, Maria, Hallie, Dallas, Rahne. Would you girls please step forward?”

The women did as ordered. Arcade walked to Jolt’s side and smiled at the trembling girl. She was fairly small, but her body was that of a young athlete that to Arcade seemed to beg for punishment. Jolt couldn’t bring herself to look at the madman, but he didn’t care at the moment.

“Can you tell me China doll, what makes you different from the other ladies still standing in line?”

“No sir.” Hallie squeaked, barely above a whisper.

“Leave the girl alone! Are you afraid real women?” Citizen V demanded.

“Ha! But she’s soo much more fun!” Arcade exclaimed as he swatted Jolt’s small breasts like a cat might swat a string. He left her and stood beside Rahne. He reached for her vulva and scratched it, making Rahne nearly jump.

“Tell me little girl, do you know what makes you different from the other ladies? I’ll give you a hint. Get it right and I’ll give you a reward.”

Arcade gave a pull on her pubic hair, and Rahne let out a whelp of pain and shock.

“We’re…nae shaven, down there.”

“Gold star for the Scottish chick!” Arcade motioned for two guards to grab Rahne on each side and hold her firm. Arcade bent down and shoved his head into Rahne’s crotch and licked ravenously. Rahne blanched in disgust, clamped her eyes shut and wept in shame as she felt Arcade’s tongue exploring regions of her body she herself rarely explored.

“Ah, fresh soil. Bet it’s never been plowed, am I right?” Arcade asked as he stood up, but he knew the answer. He felt the bushy red pubic hair again. As much as he did it, he always wanted more. Which made his next act all the more fun. Arcade snapped his fingers, and a guard handed him a roll of gray tape. He pulled off a medium length strip, and Rahne instantly understood his intent.

“Nae, nae please! Have mercy!” Rahne begged as she began to struggle. The guards held her firm as Arcade approached with the length of tape. Arcade carefully and slowly applied the tape over her virgin cunt, and ran his fingers over it softly to make sure it was firmly applied. Arcade looked up and watched in amusement as Rahne’s chest heaved up and down, her perky breasts along with the rest of her body covered in a fine sheet of sweat anticipating the pain to come.

“If I had mercy babe, you wouldn’t be here.” Arcade began peeling the tape off slowly and keenly, rather than one quick yank. Rahne threw her head back and screamed bloody murder as he tore the first piece off of her privates slowly. Arcade finally finished, and held the strip in his hand while he waited for Rahne to calm down some. When she finally did, he showed her the tape.

“See what happens without proper hygiene? You’ve no one to blame but yourself, kiddo.” Arcade chided, wagging a finger at her like she was some disobedient child. He then pulled off another strip of tape, “Still got some weeds that need whacking. Don’t worry, this hurts you more than it hurts me.”

Arcade repeated the process three more times, and by the time he was done, Rahne was a quivering mess begging for mercy. Her cunt was inflamed and burning in a way she never thought possible. Arcade slapped her cunt hard, eliciting a whimper, and felt for any pubic hair. His hands felt like sandpaper over her abused pussy, but Rahne didn’t resist.

“Smooth as a baby’s bum. I think we’re done here. I said I had a reward, and I keep my word. Go cry to your friends.” Arcade snapped. The guards released her, and Rahne painfully limped away towards Danielle and Amara, who hugged her and comforted the girl as best they could.

“I’m going to Dallas next!” Arcade proclaimed in a singsong voice, making the Thunderbolt gulp fearfully.

Arcade took his sweet time as he made sure all his heroines’ pussies were clean and smooth. He began whistling a merry tune as he tore a strip of tape off Citizen V, and didn’t stop until the last woman’s cunt was completely bald.

“Duct tape, it can fix anything!” Arcade proclaimed proudly as he ripped the final strip off of Maria’s pussy. After a quick feel for any he might have missed, he allowed the girl to slink away back in line. No one had noticed the simple wooden chair that had been brought into the room.

“Okay ladies, just one last thing before we’re done here.” Arcade sat down in the chair, and one of his men handed him an item that was impossible to mistake for anything other than what it was, though it looked crudely high tech.

A branding iron, with a stylized A.

“I needs to put a trademark on you bitches so no one copies you!”

The women gasped and cried out in fear, and Arcade could hear them murmuring to themselves. As an experienced killer, Arcade could tell when someone was about to make a last ditch effort at rebellion, and he could sense that moment fast approaching.

“Ten seconds, bitches.” Arcade snarled, his face looking harsh. He activated his remote, and the women felt intense pain in their privates unlike anything they’d ever felt before. Arcade slowly counted down, and when he reached zero, he terminated the signal. But by then, all the women were laying on the ground moaning in pain.

“Stand up. Now.”

Slowly but surely, the women stood up into a limping position. Arcade could see from the faces of some that they weren’t broken, but he didn’t care. That only made it all the more fun. Arcade handed the branding iron off to a guard while he sat in the chair.

“Namorita, come here fishlips.” Arcade ordered. Namorita approached him, and already knowing what he wanted, she laid across his body like a child about to be spanked.

“Good bitch. Bob?”

The guard pressed the Branding Iron against Namorita’s left cheek, and smiled as he head the sizzling flesh. Pain stabbed thru Namorita’s body, so much so that she couldn’t even scream because she was in too much pain. The guard held the Branding Iron in place for a full ten seconds before removing it. When he was finally done, Namorita was brawling like a baby. Arcade gave her new scar a mean pinch, and pushed her off of him to the floor. Too weak to stand, a guard grabbed Namorita by her ankle and dragged her out of the way.

“Yo, M, you’re up! Get your chocolate ass over here!”

Monet complied, all the while glaring daggers the man. She laid across him, and ignored the feeling of his erect cock on her stomach.

“You know, everything I’ve read about you says you’re a stuck up bitch.” Arcade commented as he stuck two fingers inside her anus. Monet relaxed as best she could, knowing any resistance would be punished. Fighting back now would be foolish, or worse, stupid. And Monet prided herself on not being stupid. But all the same, she couldn’t bring herself to reply to his comments.

“Nothing wrong with that, I suppose. But I wanted a scream out of the last one.”

The guard pressed the branding iron down hard on Monet’s chocolate ass, and Arcade got his scream.

By the time Arcade was finished branding his new toys, he nearly came in his pants a dozen times. Their screams were incredibly erotic to his ears. The women were all huddled away from him while they tended their wounds. Each and every one of them carried a branding scar of the letter A on their left ass cheek now. Thanks to improvements made by various mad scientists Arcade employed, those A’s were impossible to remove, with surgery and even acid. They would also remain tender to the touch, which was a plus.

Arcade took a second to look at his captives. They were all sweating heavily, both from the branding and fear. He considered hosing them down again, but disregarded it. He waited long enough. He pressed a button inside his coat, and in filed several heavily armed guards.

“Okay ladies, now that preparations are out of the way, we’re ready to get to the main event!” Arcade said proudly.

“Main event?” Danielle Moonstar asked, her voice cracking despite her best attempts not to.

“Of course! What, you think this was it? Baby, we haven’t even gotten started!”

Arcade nearly came again when he saw the reactions of the once mighty heroines. He didn’t have to tell the heroines to follow him as he strolled out of the room and down a corridor. Finally coming to two large metal doors, Arcade pushed them open and motioned to what was outside.

Rahne, Paige and Maria wept in fear. Hallie screamed out in horror. Danielle, Dallas and Namorita shook in rage, while the rest suddenly became too numb to react.

Sprawled out before them was a demented underground amusement park, filled with patrons. But these patrons wore the uniforms of Hydra, A.I.M and other such organizations. Littered among them were villains such as Omega Red, the Wrecking Crew, Sabretooth and more. But it was the large, neon sign that greeted the nude and branded heroines that struck the most fear into them

It proudly read, “Superheroine Humiliation and Abuse World.”

“Ladies, I thought you knew,” Arcade mocked, “everything before this was just foreplay.”




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