Arcade's New Niche

BY : Masterdudemind
Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 101508
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.

Day in the Life

Maria de Guadalupe Santiago, the former Avenger known as Silverclaw, passed into fitful unconsciousness just as the seventy first cock from the last hour and a half man finished climaxing inside the folds of her pussy, while another man continued pounding his cock down her throat and a third was still impaling her ass.

Considering the fact that she had already entertained several pure bred dogs, a company of highly decorated Hydra agents, performed several strip teases for wealthy college students and endured the creative sadism of a millionaire pervert, it was a testament to Silverclaw’s endurance that she had only just now hit the end of her physical and emotional endurance.

“The just bitch stopped! God damn it, this ain’t what we paid for!”

Not that the six boys, nephews or sons of allied South American drug lords all, saw it that way. When the boys noticed it, even after fucking her for more than two hours, they were still pissed, and felt as if they had been cheated personally. Their family had paid for this superwhore for the rest of the day, and they wanted their money’s worth!
The man who had been impaling Maria’s ass pushed her off of him and onto the floor as if she were simply a well shaped blanket, and turned towards his friends.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not about to let this whore get away with cheating us!”

They slapped her across the face, and were partially effective. Maria opened her eyes, but they were glazed over and while she was awake, she wasn’t conscious in any real sense. She was too tired to sleep, too exhausted to resist and in too much pain to care about what happened next.

“Man, it’s no fun if she just lies there!” whined another boy.

“Hold on, we still have a few toys we can use!”

One of the boys went to the room’s ‘toy box’ and removed a modified electric cattle prod.

“Bring her over here!”

Two of the boys grabbed Maria by her ankles and dragged her to the center of the room and then spread her legs as far apart as they would go. The boy with the cattle prod waved it around it front of his face, smiling as if he now held some secret power.

“We paid for a good time, Silverclaw, and that’s what you’re going to give us. No more of this ‘I’m too tired’ or ‘I have a head ache’ bullshit. Now, you either start getting’ back with the program, but we see how far up this thing can travel up your pussy. We clear?”

Silverclaw heard the boy just fine, and the threat registered in her mind perfectly. But after all she had already suffered today, Maria was just too far gone to care, let alone respond. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tasered her cunt, after all.
True to his threat, when Silverclaw chose to just lay there instead of joining in her own degradation, the boy pressed the cattle prod to Maria’s engorged clit, and pulled the trigger.

For what seemed like hours, Silverclaw’s mind went white with pain as countless volts of electricity purged through her delicate love-bud. She arched her back, her breasts stood at attention, but to the disappointment of her customers, Maria didn’t scream. She just choked out a mewling noise.

Not that the boys cared, not at first. They pressed the cattle prod to her exposed pussy again, and laughed long and hard as she jerked and spasmed like a fish on a hook. Like kids pulling the wings off of a fly, they kept finding new areas of pussy flesh to torment.

When that got boring, they removed bamboo canes and brought them down on her large breasts. The boy with the taser set it aside and instead took his foot and ground it into Maria’s abused, cum filled pussy. His heel crushed her well used cunt and while friends reigned down abuse on Silverclaw’s melons, but Silverclaw barely budged.
But after a while, even that got boring and accomplished nothing. Eventually, her tormenters went back to the taser, but Silverclaw still never screamed the entire time, she barely blinked. Indeed, she just lay on the floor, her head turned aside with a slight bit of cum trickling out. After the six or seventh taser to her cunt, Silverclaw lost control of her bowels and wet herself. Realizing that their victim was now lying in a small puddle of her own sweat, drool and piss, the boys felt their ejections beginning to fade.

“I don’t know if I want to fuck something like that,” commented one boy, “she’s like a breathing toilet now.”

“Yeah, me neither,” said another boy, “she’s kinda gross.”

“Well, we all fucked her at least twice,” said the oldest, “not like we didn’t have fun. We can still do a few last things without putting it in her.”

The other boys knew exactly what he meant. They whipped their cocks out and began to beat off over the broken heroine’s limp body. Within a minute or two, Maria felt a rain of cum descend upon her face and into her slack jaw.

As a final insult, the boys waited for about ten minutes, and then emptied their bowels all across her chocolate colored body. For the first time, she reacted if only in her own mind. As six jets of streaming piss splashed across her body, spilling across her breasts, and in her mouth and eyes, she bit back bile in her throat and forced herself not to react.

Finally, the boys left and Silverclaw simply lay there in a puddle of cum, sweat and urine. Maria wanted to cry when she realized that lying here in these fluids was, by far, the most comfortable thing yet for her today.

Eventually, guards came to collect her and take her back to the cells. Wearing plastic gloves, two of them grabbed Maria by her wrists and without bothering to pick her up, pulled her out of the room and into the hallway. They dragged Maria like a heavy carpet, but she was used to it by now, and didn’t even whimper.

Eventually, they reached her cell and dumped her inside. The metal room had a large, plasma screen TV on all three walls and on the ceiling. Each one was playing a different rape of a different heroine.

On the wall in front of her, Songbird and Jolt were being raped by Zemo. On the wall to her left, Free Spirit was being raped by a corrupt Board of Directors and on her right, the mutant Magma was spread eagle and being raped by radical environmentalists who ‘wanted some of her earth power’. Only the floor, made of shag carpeting (Arcade still liked the joke) didn’t depict some act of humiliation.

Maria was the first to arrive in the cell, but she wouldn’t be the last. Who was locked up whom varied from day to day and as a result, Silverclaw had no idea who her roommates might be tonight.

Paige Guthrie, Husk, was the first arrival. Her cunt was slick with cum and there were dozens of welts across her back and rear along with bite marks all across her breasts. She and Maria had lost their virginity together in this terrible place, but there was no camaraderie at the moment. Husk was too lost in her own suffering to offer Silverclaw any assistance. She simply went to the far corner, sat down and pulled her legs to her chest, and wept.

Though she hardly looked it, Maria knew Paige was lucky. She only ‘entertained’ a small party the entire day instead of the dozens they usually were expected to fuck. Fucking only two dozen people was a light workload to them now.

The next arrival was Nelson Greer, Tigra. She staggered in with two guards behind her. At first glance, she looked unharmed. But Maria could see how the Avenger’s pussy was distended and semen was mattered into her fur across her breasts.

Last and worst of all, was Hallie Takahama, Jolt of the Thunderbolts. The guards carried her in by her wrists and ankles, and dumped her in the cell like a piece of dry wood. Even Maria was stunned, if only for a moment, by what she saw.

The young Thunderbolt was completely caked in jism. It looked as if someone had dumped a bucket of white paint all over her. Maria could only see one part of one of Hallie’s eyebrows and nothing of the other. Hallie’s black hair was streaked with white. While Jolt lay there on the floor panting, a small puddle of cum had already trickled out her gaping, swollen pussy and reddened ass.

As if that weren’t enough, Maria could see dots of red through the cum, both on Hallie’s breasts and around her pussy. She knew from experience that meant some of the men had dripped hot wax on the girl.

Hallie tried to cough, but it came out as a gurgle and her fellow captives watched as the young girl coughed up a mouthful of cum onto the floor. They could only guess how much still remained in her stomach.

Jolt simply rolled over, unable to move much farther after twelve hours of entertaining some two hundred men. Her superhuman stamina was the only reason why she was alive, and just barely at that.

“Think we ought to cork them tonight?” One guard asked the other.

“Sure, they look like they could use it,” grinned the man.

When they heard that, all the women knew what was expected of them next. They got down on their hands and knees, and raised their asses into the air. Even Jolt, who felt as if she’d been hit by a train inside her pussy, found the strength to raise her rear for the last violation of the night.

The guards always kept U shaped dildos strapped to their belts for their own amusement. Sometimes they ‘corked’ their captives, sometimes they didn’t, all depending on their mood. Arcade liked it keep it unpredictable.

Hallie barely felt the double headed dildo slide inside of her. After what she had already endured today, her pussy and ass were so wide a baseball bat would have gone unnoticed. Both Husk and Tigra barely flinched as the ribbed dildos plowed into their holes.

Maria, though, for whatever reason, grasped as the giant phalluses impaled both her well fucked holes. Biting her upper lip as they were shoved in, Maria sighed for relief when the devises were then turned on.

At first, like everything else, Silverclaw saw the dildos as a humiliation. But after weeks and weeks of being raped, she had come to appreciate pleasure that didn’t involve a foul smelling man (or woman) grunting as they pounded inside her body. Compared to that, the dildo felt more like a nightcap, a reminder that not all pleasure was pain, than the actual humiliation that was intended.

After that, the four heroines passed into a fitful sleep, entangled in one another’s arms for warmth and comfort, knowing whatever peace they found would be torn away from them in the morning.

&&&

Silverclaw awoke from a dream about shopping in her hometown as a bamboo cane sliced across her naked ass. One of the guards was making the rounds, awaking all of the women in the cell and had chosen her first.

Unfortunately, Maria didn’t get up fast enough for his tastes and before she could stand, another sharp blow stung her ass.

“I’m getting up! I’m up!” Maria cried, her voice dry and raspy and eyes wet with tears.
Maria got to her feet and without being told, stood against the wall. She felt a pressure in her bowels, but did her best to ignore it as the guard focused his attention elsewhere. The other heroines, woken up by Maria’s scream, scrambled to their feet in record time and lined up beside her.

Lined up side by side, naked and some still covered in dried fluids, the women looked at the floor as the guard appraised them. It wasn’t a requirement, but it was hard to meet anyone’s eyes after the humiliation they suffered day in, day out.
The guard reached down and tore free the dildos from the once heroines. Tossing the slick devises aside, he scowled at the women.

“Alright sluts, you know the drill. March!”

Maria took the lead, and her ‘roommates’ followed close behind. Down the hall, third door. The four former heroines scuffled inside without complaint. All the other captured heroines, Citizen V, Dagger, Firebird, and everyone else were already there, waiting. Some looked fine, while others were just as filthy as Hallie. Namorita and Mirage were covered from head to toe in cum, sweat and sand. Maria could only guess that they’d been fucked at a beach.

Maria braced herself when she heard the door close. Jets of freezing cold water came pouring down from the ceiling. Silverclaw was fully woken within seconds. She put her hands up to block the water as best she could, but there was nowhere she could go to avoid it, so she simply stood there, enduring it as best she could.

To her chagrin, her nipples became hard in the cold. Maria hated the fact that after all this time, her body still hadn’t learned to stop responding to stimulation given via humiliation.

Not all the women reacted the same, though. Jolt used the water to wash away the sticky film that had dried over her body while Tigra brushed the water through her fur to expunge the dry fluids there.

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on the heroine, the freezing cold water shut off after two minutes. Silverclaw knew that the only reason that they had the shower in the first place was to get some of the grime off of them before starting the day’s activities. Even these rapist bastards had limits when it came to the hygiene of who they were raping. Apparently, they were too good to fuck a girl covered in semen and sweat.

“Alright dick holes, line up!”

A door opened on the far end of the room, and like toy soldiers, the heroines created two lines.

“You know the drill, girls. I want three groups, go go go!”

Again, acting on instinct, one group of heroines jogged out the door, followed by the second and then final group.

“No one wants to fuck a fat, lazy heroine,” Arcade had once explained tactfully. As a result, he had built a large track next to the showers, about the size of a football field, and required them to run at least eight laps (two miles), sometimes longer, every day. In the center of the track were work benches, weight equipment and other exercise tools that the guards used, though never while the captured heroines ran.

No, the guards had a better idea. They stood at the side of the track, usually with cattle prods, whips or bamboo canes and smacked the women on the ass as they passed by. Moving out of the way was prohibited and God help you if you tripped.

Running barefoot, her breasts swinging free and her body working up a fine sheen of sweat, Maria knew she was quite a sight. But luckily, so were the women currently around her. The curly blond mutant Magma, the red haired Citizen V, the Native American Danielle Moonstar and blonder underwater powerhouse Namorita. Maria had learned that when she surrounded by big breasted women, usually blonds, the guards left her alone.

“Ha, we got one!”

Maria glanced at the other groups and saw, to her horror that Bonita, Firebird, had tripped while running.

-Crack!-

“Get up! This isn’t nap time!”

-Crack!-

“We going too easy on you? Want more laps?”

-Crack!-

The guards fell on her like dogs on raw meat. Lash after lash after lash of a bamboo cane struck Firebird’s rear relentlessly, and it took all her willpower just to move, to crawl away let alone run. But in her mind, she knew that she had to stand to get away. And so, mustering an impressive amount of willpower that any hero would admire, Firebird rose to her feet despite the constant whippings and ran as fast as her feet would carry her. She rejoined her running group, but felt little relief. The Hispanic Avenger knew that any escape was only temporary.

Maria watched the scene out of the corner of her eye, mindful to watch her own step as she ran. Hopefully, one was enough for those bastards, she thought. Silverclaw wiped her brow, now damp with sweat. While they ran, Arcade often turned up the temperature so that they’d sweat bullets. He said that he did so to make them sweat out the fat, but everyone knew he just liked to look at their moist bodies.

Finally, after twenty five minutes of running and nine laps, the guards called an end to the run.

“Line up, cum buckets! Bathroom time!”

Finally, Maria sighed. This was about the only thing she remotely looked forward to during her captivity, mainly because Arcade actively prevented them from using the toilet on any schedule but his own. It was perverse to the extreme, but Silverclaw had grown to just accept it like so many other things. She was actually lucky last night, in a twisted way, that she had pissed herself before being taken back to the cells and that the guards hadn’t noticed. It was about the only good thing that came from soaking in a puddle of urine.

The once heroines formed another line and followed the lead guard into the next room. The area was spacious, and had three toilets bolted to the floor next to one another, surrounded by a computer work station and cameras.

“Silverclaw, Wolfsbane, Free Spirit, you’re first!”

The three stepped forward and bent down to touch their toes. A guard came up behind Rahne first and inserted a tube filled with water. Rahne felt her bowels, already in need of relief, fill to the top with freezing cold water. Silverclaw was next to get the ice cold enema, followed by Free Spirit.

“Alright ladies, you’re ready for your scenes,” the guard slapped Free Spirit’s ass, “get to the stage.”

The three heroines, struggling to keep the water in their bowels from flooding out as it sloshed around inside of them, walked over to the toilets and sat down. As much as they wanted to, none of them released when they sat down.

They knew better.

The computer hummed to life and he calmly went through a punch-list as they sat there, cramps assaulting them as their bodies sought to expel the massive amount of liquids trapped inside of them.

Finally, he was finished. Opening files with their names on it, he looked to Silverclaw first.

“Anytime you’re ready.”

Maria hated the fact that this was all being recorded. With two cameras in the toilet, and another three recording every inch of her body, Arcade pandered to damn near every kind of pervert. This act alone brought in thousands of dollars for his operation.
But in comparison to everything else done to her here, this was only a minor inconvenience. So she relaxed and went for the cameras with barely a blush. Free Spirit was next, followed by a sobbing Wolfsbane.

Silverclaw, Wolfsbane and Free Spirit stood off to the side, patiently waiting as the other heroines relieved their bowels for the camera. Once they were done, Maria knew that next on the schedule was ‘breakfast’.

The ‘dining room’ was little more than a large storage room Arcade had emptied. Now all it held was dog bowls engraved with their names.

“Eat up!” the guards ordered.

Maria didn’t have to be told to get down on her hands and knees to look for her food dish. By now, it was habit. Everyone did it without protest.

The most annoying part about ‘breakfast’ was how the guards constantly moved the food dishes around. They prevented the heroines from telling one another where their food was, so everyone had to crawl around on their hands and knees until they found it.
To say the guards got off on the fact that over a dozen powerful and beautiful women were rutting around on their hands and knees, like stray dogs, was an understatement. There wasn’t a man in the room whose cock wasn’t straining against their pants as they watched the scene unfold, even after all this time. Maria just hoped she wasn’t the unlucky girl who had to satisfy all that pent up sexual frustration today.
After a minute or two of wandering and looking, Maria came upon the two bowls with ‘Silverclaw’ engraved on it. In one bowl was a pound of brown protein mush mixed together with semen and some form of birth control (Maria was pretty sure that they had all had been fucked for three weeks straight and counting, and no one was pregnant yet) and in the other was Gatorade. The hectic schedule of twelve hour days filled with rapes was difficult on the human body, and the last thing Arcade wanted was them passing out in the middle of their violations.

“Eat up!” yelled one guard like a drill sergeant. He casually strolled through the room, riding crop in one hand, whipping those who appeared to be eating too slow. Then, he came to Maria.

“Last thing we want is unsatisfied customers,” He took his foot and placed it on top of Silverclaw’s head, forcing her face first into her food of mush. She struggled against him, but the guard had the leverage, “like this bitch had last night. I’ve warned you all before, but now you’re going to see what happens when you take a break in the middle of your duties!”

The man released his heel, and strolled around to Maria’s rear.

“Finish it all, or I’ll make this even worse.”

Maria had barely swallowed the first bite when the cane came down across her ass. She was just starting to take another bite when the second blow landed.

“Don’t stop!” snarled the guard.

Maria cried silently as she did her best to finish her ‘meal’ while the guard brutally
whipped her. Each blow felt as if it tore strips of flesh from her ass, but by now, the guards instinctively knew how much force to use without rending flesh.

God knew they had enough practice.

After half an hour of slow agony, Maria managed to eat all of her food and lap up her drink, marinated by her own salty tears, despite the constant agony of her abused rear.

“Alright sluts, time to clean up!”

Maria climbed to her feet, trying her best to ignore her burning rear and the food splattered across her face.

The guard led them to the final room for the day’s preparations. It was the only room that didn’t involve some form of humiliation.

There was a full complement of showers, the latest hair and skin care products, and each heroine had her own stall filled with make-up and some token remnants of their hero career and even a special douche to cleanse themselves. For Maria, Arcade’s goons had left Maria her tiara and ceremonial armguards. Sometimes, an unlucky heroine would find her entire costume (or rather, a cheap spandex version) waiting for her. That always meant that not only were they expected to wear it, but that it’d be violently ripped from their bodies within hours, at the most.

Maria took her time in the showers, letting the water run through her long hair and to truly wash all the semen, sweat and grime that built up from the previous day. She lathered her body and breasts with soap, knowing Arcade would punish her if she didn’t take the best care of her body that she could.

After a good twelve minute shower, Silverclaw went to her stall, and began bushing her long hair. She applied a few select perfumes (just enough so that she smelled pleasant. Smelling otherwise was another road to quick punishment) and waited for the guards to come collect them.

As she waited, almost unconsciously, she ran her hand over the stylized ‘A’ on her left butt cheek. It ached most days, but like too many other things, Maria had grown accustomed to it. She hoped that when they were rescued, some scientist could remove the damned thing, though she secretly feared Arcade was telling the truth, that it would be a lifelong reminder of their…her suffering.

Arcade was usually amazingly patient when it came to them readying themselves for the day’s activities. Maria knew part of it was because he didn’t want to rush them, but another part of it was how he so oh loved to drag out his sadistic torment. The time they spent making themselves ready to be raped, time spent in anticipation of the day, was something Arcade enjoyed as much as the act itself.

Finally, when everyone had finished, four guards appeared at the entrance and beckoned them to step forward. The heroines meekly formed two lines and marched after the men.
The final room Arcade used, before the heroines were divided up and given to various customers, was designed like a college lecture room. There were various desks and a table at the front that held a jar filled with slips of paper. The heroines took their seat anywhere, knowing Arcade was eager to begin and that disappointing him was more dangerous than any of the villains they used to fight.

“Everyone read for another exciting day?” asked Arcade.

“Yes, sir!” the broken heroines replied as one.

“Good!” Arcade had two different bowls on his desk. One with their names in it, the other had a list of assignments for the day, “lets begin!”

“Firebird…” Arcade read the first name, then reached into the second bowl, “…stables!”
Maria shivered. Stables meant that Bonita was going to be fucked by a dog, horse, and whatever other animals Arcade could round up for a crowd of three dozen people, all of whom had front row seats. The humiliation and pain went beyond the usual rapes that Arcade had heaped upon them, Maria knew that for a fact. She’s already been sent to the stables twice, and she could see how Bonita was quacking in fear, tears streaming down her face.

“Wolfsbane…you get guard duty!”

Maria watched as Rahne Sinclair burst into tears, and her heart went out to the young Scotswoman. Arcade employed over two hundred and fifty men and women, as guards or engineers of his twisted sex park. Men and women who stood by and watched as the heroines were raped in all kinds of sick and twisted ways, got off on it, and allowed to do nothing but watch. So Arcade made it a point to ‘reserve’ a heroine or two for his men to relieve their sexual frustration and prevent any sort of sexual based rebellion. It was, easily, one of the hardest things Arcade made them do.

“Husk…private audience!”

Maria found that she envied the blond mutant, and prayed that she had her luck. Private audience usually meant either one man, or a small group of people. As terrible as that was, a small gang rape was better a longer, far more drawn out one.

“Free Spirit…Taskmaster training!”

Maria listened as Arcade rattled off a few names, anxious for him to call her name and get the terrible waiting over with. Arcade rattled off a few more names before he finally got around to her.

“Silverclaw…guard duty, too!”

Maria felt her heart drop into her stomach. She thought she’d dodged that bullet when Wolfsbane had pulled that, but said nothing. Maria knew from past experience that, if she complained, about even the slightest thing, Arcade would make things worse. He’d likely stick her on guard duty for a week if she even sighed a protest. So Maria simply sat there, counting down the seconds as Arcade finished handing out assignments. Finally, the last heroine received her order (or punishment, as they all rightly saw it). A guard approached with a leer on his face, and collected Rahne and Maria.
Both women quacked in fear. The next several hours would be a non-stop hell.

Hour One

Maria felt as though she had simply blinked, and found herself thrown across a table with a guard impaling herself in her ass.

Maria knew from experience that the guards liked to start slow, open up their pussies with normal abuse and then go from there. Maria relaxed as much as possible as the first cock plunged into her ass, stretching the muscles in ways they were never meant to be.
The first man was a little hard, but by the third Maria’s ass had grown accustomed to the impalement. Soon, she was fucking three men at once as if it were the most natural thing.

Off to the side though, Rahne was seemingly stuck with two. One in the pussy, the other pounding his cock in her mouth so hard her skull bounced off the floor.

Maria paced herself as best she could, knowing this was just the start of a very, very long day.

***
“Die, white devil! Me kill you then skin your scalp!”

Danielle Moonstar waved a plastic machete around in the air. She was dressed like a stereotypical Indian woman, from a brown buck skin to leather moccasins. With a loud whoop, she charged a group of three men, all dressed like Calvary Soldiers.

The first man grabbed her wrist, while the other two wrestled her by her shoulders and wrestled her to the ground. Though she could think of a million ways out of it, she allowed herself to be dragged to the ground.

The third man pulled a knife from his boot, leaned down and began to cut away at her buck skin shirt, exposing her bare breasts to the world.

“This here cowbot is gonna teach you Injun what a real cock feels like!”

There was a chorus of hoops and hollers, but Danielle did the best she could to block them from her mind. She and her three 'co-stars' were performing in front of two or three dozen men Arcade refused to allow to touch 'his' girls.

They were a mixed combination of people. Some failed medical exams, others refused to take them altogether while others couldn't pay the full price of a private engagement but were still willing to pay for a show.

So for them, Arcade arranged humiliating shows like this. For instance, Danielle Moonstar, especially proud of her Native American ancestry, was made to play a stereotype in front of everyone, and that wasn't even the worst of it, not yet.

“Taste real meat, Red Skin!”

“It it so big!” Dani exclaimed in a bad accent.

“It sure is!” the man plunged it inside of the young mutant, and she gasped loudly in false pleasure.

“Oh take me cowboy! Show me real man!” Danielle shouted, “White cock is better than Red!”

Danielle moved in rhythm with her rapist, pushing against him as he thrust inward, taking him in as deep as her body would allow. She felt her humiliation rise with each thrust, but she begged him to continue and screamed in fake pleasure that his cowboy cock was the best thing ever, better than any Indian cock she'd had.

Danielle Moonstar felt so personally humiliated that she almost didn't want to escape, didn't want the world to know how far she'd fallen.

And she still had three performances left today


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