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"writing": "Mightmare looked past her marinated mammaries to see the oven door shut tight. The situation seemed quite dire, considering she was naked, trussed up like a turkey, and lying in a greased pan with a carrot shoved up her butt and an apple jammed into her mouth. If only she could get her golden lasso to cooperate. Unfortunately, the automated dildo was a little too efficient at keeping her at the height of arousal. The combined effect of the dildo and Mightmare's secret fetishes was keeping the magic rope tightened around her, and there didn't seem to be anything she could do to escape.\n\nAs the superheroine dish faced the heat of the oven, she recalled that just a few hours ago she'd been out on normal patrol, fighting mundane ninja assassin french maids.\n\n~\n\n\"Mightmare! You have been chosen! En garde!\n\nThe feline french maids in matching low-cut velvet outfits surrounded Mightmare in the dark alleyway. The ninja masks, nunchucks, swords and shurikens fit surprisingly well with their dresses. Observing the cats' matching ponytails, haircuts and grey dyed fur, the mare heroine momentarily wondered if she was fighting clones or maybe robot dolls. But a few minor differences in physical appearance among the maids revealed that they were merely uniform henchmen in matching uniforms. They were probably working for a themed supervillain; like Mistress Maid, Furious Fifi, or Catmaster.\n\nOn second thought, Mightmare thought as she dodged between a pair of leaping maids, Mistress Maid only used robot maids; and Furious Fifi had fled back to France since Captain Choreograph bested her plan to rig the universal dance competition; and Catmaster had never bothered dressing up his mind-controlled feline minions. None of those villains had ever used ninjas before either. Whoever had sent these kitties had to be someone new. Unless...\n\nThe ninja maids relentlessly attacked only to get beaten back every time. The athletic heroine dodged their blows, struck back with her mightiness, and generally proved their superior.\n\n\"She is too strong!\" a ninja maid declared.\n\n\"We came prepared for this! Time for Plan B!\" an interchangeable ninja with greater authority replied.\n\nThe french maids suddenly ceased their assault and stepped back, surrounding Mightmare in a wide circle. As she watched, they dropped their swords and nunchucks on the ground, and whipped out an assortment of dildos, vibrators, and...pink perfume bottles?? It was then Mightmare realized the reason for the henchmen's dress code. Their sexy costumes, fluffy tails, deep cleavages, and alluring behaviour were all deliberately intended to turn on the latex-clad superheroine. Whoever had sent these kitties knew all about her secret weakness, and were trying to turn her golden lasso against her!\n\nMightmare narrowed her eyes. These villainous fiends thought she was that easy to manipulate? Well she'd show them!\n\nThe heroine threw her golden lasso over a pair of ninja maids trying to tackle her. With expert aim she caught the pair and tied them together. She then started galloping fast, swinging around the bound maids and unleashing a mighty flying kick that sent several ninja maids flying. For each circle the captive maids got more tightly tied up until they were bound from top to bottom. Four maids then decided to ignore proper henchmen protocol and attack simultaneously. Mightmare saw them coming and responded by heaving the bound pair over her head and throwing them into the arms of the attacking quartet, knocking them flat on their backs. The superheroine then snapped her fingers, causing the golden lasso to unwind and fly back into her waiting hand. With a satisfied expression Mightmare turned to face the final ninja maid standing.\n\n\"Sample of fragrance?\" said the maid threateningly, aiming the pink perfume bottle at the superheroine.\n\nMightmare got a spray of sparkly pink gas in her face. She started to back away, but stopped when she realized that nothing was happening. It did smell nice, though... Our heroine decided to do that thing Stuporman always did when goons fired bullets at his bulletproof body; she folded her arms over her chest and smirked at the perfume-spraying baddie. It was then Mightmare noticed how incredibly hard her nipples were.\n\nTwo months ago Mightmare had rescued the sexy doe reporter September O'Lane from sewer-dwelling tentacle monsters. Following the heroic feat, September had reported on life television how the amazing superheroine had effortlessly defeated the tentacled terror and carried September to safety. In a further modification of true events, September reported that Mightmare had rescued several infant tentacle monsters out of compassion and scientific value. Which transitioned well into September's decision to quit her reporter profession and become a sexual xenobiologist, with great economic success. Unfortunately, not only did the businesslike doe monetize tamed tentacle monster sex, but she also brought home numerous speciments of the pink aphrodesiac sewer flowers that had overpowered Mightmare with pure sexual arousal more than once during her tentacle adventure. Whoever had arranged for the ninja maid ambush Mightmare was currently dealing with had clearly done extensive research, because the perfume being relentlessly sprayed onto the mare's sweaty fur was created from those very same flowers.\n\n\"P-please stop!\" Mightmare pleaded, dropping to her knees, stroking her crotch while tugging at her nipple through the latex costume.\n\nThe evil french maid wouldn't listen. She stood over the masturbating heroine and relentlessly sprayed the entire bottle of perfume onto the mare until both her fur and latex costume were glistening with sparkling moisture. Judging by the feline maid's heated expression and shaking posture, the fumes were starting to affect her too. Suddenly Mightmare got her heroic second wind and managed to stand up tall, only to immediatelly get wrapped up tight by her overexcited golden lasso.\n\n\"Got you!\" the maid yelled, before dropping the empty perfume bottle and dropping to her knees, stroking herself energetically.\n\nBoth superheroine and ninja maid were writhing in moaning pleasure on the ground for several minutes until the other vanquished henchmen managed to recover from their sound defeat.\n\n\"That idiot,\" the lead maid said, observing the pair, \"she sprayed so much aphrodesiac on the mare that we can't carry her without getting horny!\"\n\n\"We could wait until it wears off,\" an identical ninja maid suggested.\n\n\"Impossible!\" a third maid, who might be first one if she'd moved slightly to the left, exclaimed. \"If we don't bring the main course for the Annual Supervillain Thanksgiving Dinner on time we won't get paid! Here's what we'll do! We split up into pairs and take turns carrying her! Nobody touches the mare for too long at a time.\"\n\n~\n\nThe Annual Supervillain Thanksgiving Dinner was hosted in the nicest abandoned restaurant in the abandoned warehouse district. Supervillains and criminal masterminds alike were gathered for the highlight of the evil social calendar. Only the most powerful and accomplished villain would get the honour of choosing the main course for the thanksgiving dinner, and delivering a sub-par turkey substitute or, worse, failing to deliver the chosen target entirely would lead to a public embarrasment likely to encourage other villains to to steal the top spot in the evil hierarchy. \n\nAnyone who was anyone in the baddie business was here today, and person at the head of the table was none other the Dogfather. Yes the Dogfather, the mafioso mutt pulling the strings behind every profitable misdeed in the city. This fat bulldog in the expensive striped suit had secured the questionable loyalty of every crook in town by supplying henchmen, weapons, hideouts and unnecessarily complicated death traps.\n\nSeated around the head honcho was a variety of other famous villains, including Dr. Lactose, Aladi No, Mistress Maid, Scratchface McGardigan, Furious Fifi ('s sister), Hannibal Montana, Catmaster and Razor Envelope, to name a few.\n\nDogfather steepled his manicured paws with villainous glee. Today he would finally get revenge on his arch-enemy. Mightmare would rue the day she ruined his counterfeit pizza printing operation. His printed parmesan products had been a vital part of funding his criminal enterprise, and the do-gooder mare had ruined everything! Well tonight his revenge would be complete! Mightmare would be gone for good and his reputation as the number one bad guy would be cemented when he lifted the lid off tonight's main course: Thanksgiving Mare!!\n\nAt which point the Dogfather's loyal mobster lieutenant respectfully approached the overweight don to inform him that his specially-selected capture squad had succesfully captured Mightmare and brought her to the dinner party. Oh, and that twenty-two of the thirty ninja maids had abandoned the mission to engage in a statistically unlikely amount of casual sex.\n\nThe Dogfather decided to put off punishing his eloped underlings until tomorrow. Right now all that mattered was that Mightmare's delicious fate was sealed. Master chef Fritz von Schlong would turn her into an unparalleled gourmet dish. The fat mobster licked his chops in anticipation.\n\n~\n\nMightmare 's trip to the villainous rendezvous had been very interesting. She'd been treated like a hot potato as the ninja maids took turns carrying her. It was easy for the moaning mare to tell when the maids were about to switch roles, since the longer she was carried, the less willpower her captors had to resist fondling and groping both herself and each other.\n\nThe man hired to take care of Mightmare was none other than master chef Fritz von Schlong! The muscular brown stallion was infamous in the culinary criminal underworld. Not just for his villainous cooking, but also for his role as Mr January in the Studly Villain of the Month calendar. Even now all he was wearing was a tight pair of jeans, a long white apron, and a tall chef's hat, leaving his impressive pecs and beefy arms bared for all to see and admire.\n\nAs he awaited the delivery of the main course, Fritz surveyed his kitchen and saw that it was good. The marinade was prepared, the spices were properly sorted, the stuffing was satisfactory, and the mare-sized oven had been thoroughly cleaned beforehand.\n\nAt last the hogtied heroine was carried into the expansive kitchen, carried by a pair of blushing ninja maids. Fritz gave the mare a thorough inspection. Her breasts, thighs and buttocks were very promising; if there weren't so many guests attending this dinner party Fritz would have skipped the stuffing and let the meat carry the course. There was only one major problem.\n\n\"What is this foul fragrance?\" he asked the maids. \"Take her into the showers and don't come back until you've washed all this gunk off!\"\n\n~\n\nOne steamy homoerotic shower scene later...\n\n\"Ah, much better,\" Fritz said as the cleanly-scrubbed heroine was returned by the suspiciously wet maids.\n\nThey'd managed to get Mightmare's clothes off during the cleaning session. One would expect the magic ropes keeping her tightly bound would present a problem, but the golden lasso could not be more helpful and accommodating, especially when it came to allowing her captors access to her most sensitive areas. With the aphrodesiac perfume finally washed off Mightmare only needed time to regain control. She decided to stay docile and pretend to be helpless until she could silence her arousal and get the golden lasso to release her.\n\n\"Put her on the counter and then leave!\" the chef ordered. \"No one is to disturb me while I prepare the dish!\"\n\nThe hogtied heroine was roughly placed on her stomach on the kitchen counter. She waited until the two feline ninja french maids had left the room before enacting her brilliant plan to stall for time until her she could reassert control of her libido. While the muscular stallion washed his hands she cleared her throat.\n\n\"You won't get away with this!\" she declared. It was a classic superhero line. Tried and true. Never failed to get a villain babbling away their evil plan.\n\n...except this time. Fritz von Schlong's massive nostrils flared in annoyance as he grabbed a shiny red apple and shoved it into Mightmare's mouth, effectively silencing her and adding to her appearance as a meal.\n\n\"I don't discuss with the ingredients,\" he said.\n\nMightmare struggled as the chef brushed her luscious tail tail aside to get better access to her curvaceous rump. He applied a stick of butter to her butt and fingered her tailhole. Then, as the heroine expressed her gag-muffled protests, he slipped a large funnel into her buttered hole.\n\n\"I'm not a bad person,\" Fritz thought aloud as he tipped the stuffing into the funnel nice and slow. \"I'm merely a professional hired to do a job. I don't choose who to cook, and I don't join the diners once they've been served.\"\n\nThe mare moaned through her apple gag. Any hopes of calming her arousal were crushed by the chef's expert touch. Because as soon as the stuffing settled in Mightmare's belly, he brandished a very large phallic carrot and used it to plug her butt after pulling out the funnel. He then dipped a brush in the sweet-smelling he'd prepared beforehand sauce and started marinating her.\n\n\"Normally I would have shaved off the fur and the tail first, but the Dogfather gave very specific instructions. He wants his chosen dish to be very recognisable. Incidentally, that's also why you'll be keeping your mask. You'll be happy to know your secret identity is of no interest this evening. Your flavour, however, is.\"\n\nAfter applying a generous amount of exotic spices to Mightmare's shiny moist fur, Fritz lifted a mare-sized greased pan onto the counter. With great care taken to avoid causing a spill, the stallion chef flipped the mare dish into the pan lying on her back. He was about to start the task of marinating the other side, but the sight of the helpless bound mare struggling to fight her arousal caused something to stir in his heart. No, wait, that wasn't his heart. That was his pants.\n\n\"I don't usually do this,\" Fritz claimed, unzipping his pants. \"But a Thanksgiving mare as fine as you deserves my secret ingredient!\"\n\nOh dear, Mightmare hadn't expected this, and if she had expected it, she wouldn't have expected it to be quite so large. But she'd wanted to stall for time, and having sex with a villain was better than being cooked for dinner by one. So on this occasion she let her bondage-fueled passions have their way and offered the horny stallion her most enticing look. The look was effective: Freed from its denim confines, Fritz's schlong boi-oi-oinged to full salute.\n\nFritz then turned away from Mightmare and started rubbing his sclong. She hadn't expected that either.\n\n~\n\nMeanwhile the top dog of the criminal underworld was keeping his guests entertained while they waited on dinner. The slideshow of profits earned in the last year was pretty boring, but the awards show for grand achievements in the field of villainy got a popular reaction.\n\n\"And the next Gilded Baddie goes to Mistress Maid for the cleanest crime scenes of the year!\" the Dogfather announced. \"All fingerprints wiped, all hair strands vaccumed, and all DNA carrying moisture traces thoroughly scrubbed! This award represents our appreciation for teaching us all the value of cleaning for evil.\"\n\nWhile the dust-brained villainess climbed the stage to accept her award, Doctor Lactose sat at the table appreciating her own Gilded Baddie for most profitable dairy based crimes. She was interrupted by her phone vibrating in her lab coat. The Siamese cat quickly picked up, because she'd programmed her phone to accept calls from only one specific number.\n\n\"\" Doctor Lactose asked in Chinese.\n\nAt the same time one of the ninja french maids was hiding in a closet. She'd removed her mask and wig, and washed some of the dye off her fur; revealing a very familiar Siamese cat. The hair extensions on her tail were going to take a lot longer to fix, but Mei Jiang didn't have time to wait any longer before contacting her twin sister.\n\n\"\" she hissed with a slight panic in her voice.\n\n\"\"\n\n~\n\nWith a sigh of satisfaction Fritz finished. He finished right into the sauce pan. Clearly he was being literal when he talked about his \"secret ingredient\".\n\n\"Surely you did not expect me to fornicate with the food?\" he said. \"Though I am not above adding a little bit of personal flavour, ahahaha.\"\n\nThe second layer of marinade caused Mightmare a lot more distress than the first one.\n\n\"Would you imagine that the feedback on my culinary concoctions has improved since I began to, ahem, add more salt.\"\n\nMightmare made a drawn-out \"mmmmm!\" noise through her happle gag that might have translated to \"eeeeeew!\"\n\nThe chef finished smearing his \"secret ingredient\" enhanced sauce all over Mightmare's front. Salt and pepper shakers followed, then an artistic decoration of tomato slices, onion rings, salad leaves, baby carrots and cucumbers.\n\n\"At last, she is finished!\" Fritz declared triumphantly.\n\nThe stallion with the disappointing lack of a humorous accent swept up the pan and carried the Thanksgiving mare towards the oven. As he laid her on the rack and prepared to push her inside, Mightmare realized that she might finally be able to regain her control and get her rope to cooperate again.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" said Fritz in a worrying tone. \"I did not forget your special companion. Fear not, it is specially designed to safely conduct heat without overheating and burning your intimates. It will also remain functional past the intended cooking temperature.\"\n\nAs the heroine feared, what he was talking about was a vibrating dildo. Once it slipped inside her, all of Mightmare's resistance drained away and the golden rope tightened around her as she stifled a moan of pleasure. From her position on her back, she could see the stallion's tail brushing over his tight butt as he leaned over the mare-sized oven. The sight of the huge appliance occuppied all her attention as the chef returned, until he turned her around so she was facing away from it as she was carried towards the oven. With a clank and a jiggle of soft fur, she was placed onto the rack and pushed inside.\n\nMightmare looked past her marinated mammaries to see the oven door shut tight. The situation seemed quite dire, considering she was naked, trussed up like a turkey, and lying in a greased pan with a carrot shoved up her butt and an apple jammed into her mouth. If only she could get her golden lasso to cooperate. Unfortunately, the automated dildo was a little too efficient at keeping her at the height of arousal. The combined effect of the dildo and Mightmare's secret fetishes was keeping the magic rope tightened around her, and there didn't seem to be anything she could do to escape.\n\nAs the superheroine dish faced the heat of the oven, she recalled that just a few hours ago she'd been out on normal patrol, fighting mundane ninja assassin french maids.\n\n~\n\n\"Mightmare! You have been chosen! En garde!\n\nThe feline french maids in matching low-cut velvet outfits surrounded Mightmare in the dark alleyway. The ninja masks, nunchucks, swords and shurikens fit surprisingly well with their dresses. Observing the cats' matching ponytails, haircuts and grey dyed fur, the mare heroine momentarily wondered if -\n\n\"Nope!\" the ninja maid interrupted. \"You're not gonna be able to stall for time by doing the flashback sequence twice.\"\n\n\"But-\" Mightmare said.\n\n\"Get back to the present and figure a way out of the oven on your own.\"\n\n\"Aw, okay.\"\n\nMightmare blinked. Yup, she was still bound, gagged, marinated, and oh-my-gawd-that-dildo-was-so-goooooooooooood-! It was also getting really hot in here. Through the steamy window of the oven door she could se Fritz von Schlong leaning on the kitchen counter, checking his phone.\n\nOne of the ninja maids walked up behind the german stallion with the disappointly lacking accent and poked him on the shoulder.\n\n~\n\nIt had been an hour since von Schlong texted Dogfather that \"the bird is in the oven\" and the fat canine mob boss's guests were getting impatient. The awards show was over, and the villainous gathering had resorted to small talk, which really wasn't their forte. Tensions gathered between rivaling villains, and it looked like it was going to be another insert-villain-name-here ray gun fights.\n\nJust then the dinner bell chimed loudly.\n\n\"Ah, here comes the Thanksgiving dish!\" Dogfather announced as a pair of ninja maids entered carrying a huge tray covered by a lid.\n\nLicking his chops, the host reached for the lid and revealed...\n\n...Fritz von Schlong posed like a turkey and making gobbling noises. Swirling circles in his eyes suggested he'd recieed a hypnotic persuasion as to his species identity. The Dogfather felt the eyes of every villain in the room silently judging him. Pretty soon they'd be judging him loudly with rude words and ray guns.\n\n~\n\nOn the roof of the villainous hideout Mightmare zipped up her costume. She was going to need all of the showers ever to wash all this sauce off her fur, but for now she'd be satisfied with being covered up but sticky.\n\n\"I really can't thank you enough for saving me,\" she told the pair standing beside her.\n\nDr. Lactose smiled. \"Not to worry. We'll measure your gratitude in gallons,\" she said.\n\n\"Like, twice weekly,\" said Mei Jiang.\n\nEND.",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "Mightmare looked past her marinated mammaries to see the oven door shut tight. The situation seemed quite dire, considering she was naked, trussed up like a turkey, and lying in a greased pan with a carrot shoved up her butt and an apple jammed into her mouth. If only she could get her golden lasso to cooperate. Unfortunately, the automated dildo was a little too efficient at keeping her at the height of arousal. The combined effect of the dildo and Mightmare's secret fetishes was keeping the magic rope tightened around her, and there didn't seem to be anything she could do to escape.
As the superheroine dish faced the heat of the oven, she recalled that just a few hours ago she'd been out on normal patrol, fighting mundane ninja assassin french maids.
~
"Mightmare! You have been chosen! En garde!
The feline french maids in matching low-cut velvet outfits surrounded Mightmare in the dark alleyway. The ninja masks, nunchucks, swords and shurikens fit surprisingly well with their dresses. Observing the cats' matching ponytails, haircuts and grey dyed fur, the mare heroine momentarily wondered if she was fighting clones or maybe robot dolls. But a few minor differences in physical appearance among the maids revealed that they were merely uniform henchmen in matching uniforms. They were probably working for a themed supervillain; like Mistress Maid, Furious Fifi, or Catmaster.
On second thought, Mightmare thought as she dodged between a pair of leaping maids, Mistress Maid only used robot maids; and Furious Fifi had fled back to France since Captain Choreograph bested her plan to rig the universal dance competition; and Catmaster had never bothered dressing up his mind-controlled feline minions. None of those villains had ever used ninjas before either. Whoever had sent these kitties had to be someone new. Unless...
The ninja maids relentlessly attacked only to get beaten back every time. The athletic heroine dodged their blows, struck back with her mightiness, and generally proved their superior.
"She is too strong!" a ninja maid declared.
"We came prepared for this! Time for Plan B!" an interchangeable ninja with greater authority replied.
The french maids suddenly ceased their assault and stepped back, surrounding Mightmare in a wide circle. As she watched, they dropped their swords and nunchucks on the ground, and whipped out an assortment of dildos, vibrators, and...pink perfume bottles?? It was then Mightmare realized the reason for the henchmen's dress code. Their sexy costumes, fluffy tails, deep cleavages, and alluring behaviour were all deliberately intended to turn on the latex-clad superheroine. Whoever had sent these kitties knew all about her secret weakness, and were trying to turn her golden lasso against her!
Mightmare narrowed her eyes. These villainous fiends thought she was that easy to manipulate? Well she'd show them!
The heroine threw her golden lasso over a pair of ninja maids trying to tackle her. With expert aim she caught the pair and tied them together. She then started galloping fast, swinging around the bound maids and unleashing a mighty flying kick that sent several ninja maids flying. For each circle the captive maids got more tightly tied up until they were bound from top to bottom. Four maids then decided to ignore proper henchmen protocol and attack simultaneously. Mightmare saw them coming and responded by heaving the bound pair over her head and throwing them into the arms of the attacking quartet, knocking them flat on their backs. The superheroine then snapped her fingers, causing the golden lasso to unwind and fly back into her waiting hand. With a satisfied expression Mightmare turned to face the final ninja maid standing.
"Sample of fragrance?" said the maid threateningly, aiming the pink perfume bottle at the superheroine.
Mightmare got a spray of sparkly pink gas in her face. She started to back away, but stopped when she realized that nothing was happening. It did smell nice, though... Our heroine decided to do that thing Stuporman always did when goons fired bullets at his bulletproof body; she folded her arms over her chest and smirked at the perfume-spraying baddie. It was then Mightmare noticed how incredibly hard her nipples were.
Two months ago Mightmare had rescued the sexy doe reporter September O'Lane from sewer-dwelling tentacle monsters. Following the heroic feat, September had reported on life television how the amazing superheroine had effortlessly defeated the tentacled terror and carried September to safety. In a further modification of true events, September reported that Mightmare had rescued several infant tentacle monsters out of compassion and scientific value. Which transitioned well into September's decision to quit her reporter profession and become a sexual xenobiologist, with great economic success. Unfortunately, not only did the businesslike doe monetize tamed tentacle monster sex, but she also brought home numerous speciments of the pink aphrodesiac sewer flowers that had overpowered Mightmare with pure sexual arousal more than once during her tentacle adventure. Whoever had arranged for the ninja maid ambush Mightmare was currently dealing with had clearly done extensive research, because the perfume being relentlessly sprayed onto the mare's sweaty fur was created from those very same flowers.
"P-please stop!" Mightmare pleaded, dropping to her knees, stroking her crotch while tugging at her nipple through the latex costume.
The evil french maid wouldn't listen. She stood over the masturbating heroine and relentlessly sprayed the entire bottle of perfume onto the mare until both her fur and latex costume were glistening with sparkling moisture. Judging by the feline maid's heated expression and shaking posture, the fumes were starting to affect her too. Suddenly Mightmare got her heroic second wind and managed to stand up tall, only to immediatelly get wrapped up tight by her overexcited golden lasso.
"Got you!" the maid yelled, before dropping the empty perfume bottle and dropping to her knees, stroking herself energetically.
Both superheroine and ninja maid were writhing in moaning pleasure on the ground for several minutes until the other vanquished henchmen managed to recover from their sound defeat.
"That idiot," the lead maid said, observing the pair, "she sprayed so much aphrodesiac on the mare that we can't carry her without getting horny!"
"We could wait until it wears off," an identical ninja maid suggested.
"Impossible!" a third maid, who might be first one if she'd moved slightly to the left, exclaimed. "If we don't bring the main course for the Annual Supervillain Thanksgiving Dinner on time we won't get paid! Here's what we'll do! We split up into pairs and take turns carrying her! Nobody touches the mare for too long at a time."
~
The Annual Supervillain Thanksgiving Dinner was hosted in the nicest abandoned restaurant in the abandoned warehouse district. Supervillains and criminal masterminds alike were gathered for the highlight of the evil social calendar. Only the most powerful and accomplished villain would get the honour of choosing the main course for the thanksgiving dinner, and delivering a sub-par turkey substitute or, worse, failing to deliver the chosen target entirely would lead to a public embarrasment likely to encourage other villains to to steal the top spot in the evil hierarchy.
Anyone who was anyone in the baddie business was here today, and person at the head of the table was none other the Dogfather. Yes the Dogfather, the mafioso mutt pulling the strings behind every profitable misdeed in the city. This fat bulldog in the expensive striped suit had secured the questionable loyalty of every crook in town by supplying henchmen, weapons, hideouts and unnecessarily complicated death traps.
Seated around the head honcho was a variety of other famous villains, including Dr. Lactose, Aladi No, Mistress Maid, Scratchface McGardigan, Furious Fifi ('s sister), Hannibal Montana, Catmaster and Razor Envelope, to name a few.
Dogfather steepled his manicured paws with villainous glee. Today he would finally get revenge on his arch-enemy. Mightmare would rue the day she ruined his counterfeit pizza printing operation. His printed parmesan products had been a vital part of funding his criminal enterprise, and the do-gooder mare had ruined everything! Well tonight his revenge would be complete! Mightmare would be gone for good and his reputation as the number one bad guy would be cemented when he lifted the lid off tonight's main course: Thanksgiving Mare!!
At which point the Dogfather's loyal mobster lieutenant respectfully approached the overweight don to inform him that his specially-selected capture squad had succesfully captured Mightmare and brought her to the dinner party. Oh, and that twenty-two of the thirty ninja maids had abandoned the mission to engage in a statistically unlikely amount of casual sex.
The Dogfather decided to put off punishing his eloped underlings until tomorrow. Right now all that mattered was that Mightmare's delicious fate was sealed. Master chef Fritz von Schlong would turn her into an unparalleled gourmet dish. The fat mobster licked his chops in anticipation.
~
Mightmare 's trip to the villainous rendezvous had been very interesting. She'd been treated like a hot potato as the ninja maids took turns carrying her. It was easy for the moaning mare to tell when the maids were about to switch roles, since the longer she was carried, the less willpower her captors had to resist fondling and groping both herself and each other.
The man hired to take care of Mightmare was none other than master chef Fritz von Schlong! The muscular brown stallion was infamous in the culinary criminal underworld. Not just for his villainous cooking, but also for his role as Mr January in the Studly Villain of the Month calendar. Even now all he was wearing was a tight pair of jeans, a long white apron, and a tall chef's hat, leaving his impressive pecs and beefy arms bared for all to see and admire.
As he awaited the delivery of the main course, Fritz surveyed his kitchen and saw that it was good. The marinade was prepared, the spices were properly sorted, the stuffing was satisfactory, and the mare-sized oven had been thoroughly cleaned beforehand.
At last the hogtied heroine was carried into the expansive kitchen, carried by a pair of blushing ninja maids. Fritz gave the mare a thorough inspection. Her breasts, thighs and buttocks were very promising; if there weren't so many guests attending this dinner party Fritz would have skipped the stuffing and let the meat carry the course. There was only one major problem.
"What is this foul fragrance?" he asked the maids. "Take her into the showers and don't come back until you've washed all this gunk off!"
~
One steamy homoerotic shower scene later...
"Ah, much better," Fritz said as the cleanly-scrubbed heroine was returned by the suspiciously wet maids.
They'd managed to get Mightmare's clothes off during the cleaning session. One would expect the magic ropes keeping her tightly bound would present a problem, but the golden lasso could not be more helpful and accommodating, especially when it came to allowing her captors access to her most sensitive areas. With the aphrodesiac perfume finally washed off Mightmare only needed time to regain control. She decided to stay docile and pretend to be helpless until she could silence her arousal and get the golden lasso to release her.
"Put her on the counter and then leave!" the chef ordered. "No one is to disturb me while I prepare the dish!"
The hogtied heroine was roughly placed on her stomach on the kitchen counter. She waited until the two feline ninja french maids had left the room before enacting her brilliant plan to stall for time until her she could reassert control of her libido. While the muscular stallion washed his hands she cleared her throat.
"You won't get away with this!" she declared. It was a classic superhero line. Tried and true. Never failed to get a villain babbling away their evil plan.
...except this time. Fritz von Schlong's massive nostrils flared in annoyance as he grabbed a shiny red apple and shoved it into Mightmare's mouth, effectively silencing her and adding to her appearance as a meal.
"I don't discuss with the ingredients," he said.
Mightmare struggled as the chef brushed her luscious tail tail aside to get better access to her curvaceous rump. He applied a stick of butter to her butt and fingered her tailhole. Then, as the heroine expressed her gag-muffled protests, he slipped a large funnel into her buttered hole.
"I'm not a bad person," Fritz thought aloud as he tipped the stuffing into the funnel nice and slow. "I'm merely a professional hired to do a job. I don't choose who to cook, and I don't join the diners once they've been served."
The mare moaned through her apple gag. Any hopes of calming her arousal were crushed by the chef's expert touch. Because as soon as the stuffing settled in Mightmare's belly, he brandished a very large phallic carrot and used it to plug her butt after pulling out the funnel. He then dipped a brush in the sweet-smelling he'd prepared beforehand sauce and started marinating her.
"Normally I would have shaved off the fur and the tail first, but the Dogfather gave very specific instructions. He wants his chosen dish to be very recognisable. Incidentally, that's also why you'll be keeping your mask. You'll be happy to know your secret identity is of no interest this evening. Your flavour, however, is."
After applying a generous amount of exotic spices to Mightmare's shiny moist fur, Fritz lifted a mare-sized greased pan onto the counter. With great care taken to avoid causing a spill, the stallion chef flipped the mare dish into the pan lying on her back. He was about to start the task of marinating the other side, but the sight of the helpless bound mare struggling to fight her arousal caused something to stir in his heart. No, wait, that wasn't his heart. That was his pants.
"I don't usually do this," Fritz claimed, unzipping his pants. "But a Thanksgiving mare as fine as you deserves my secret ingredient!"
Oh dear, Mightmare hadn't expected this, and if she had expected it, she wouldn't have expected it to be quite so large. But she'd wanted to stall for time, and having sex with a villain was better than being cooked for dinner by one. So on this occasion she let her bondage-fueled passions have their way and offered the horny stallion her most enticing look. The look was effective: Freed from its denim confines, Fritz's schlong boi-oi-oinged to full salute.
Fritz then turned away from Mightmare and started rubbing his sclong. She hadn't expected that either.
~
Meanwhile the top dog of the criminal underworld was keeping his guests entertained while they waited on dinner. The slideshow of profits earned in the last year was pretty boring, but the awards show for grand achievements in the field of villainy got a popular reaction.
"And the next Gilded Baddie goes to Mistress Maid for the cleanest crime scenes of the year!" the Dogfather announced. "All fingerprints wiped, all hair strands vaccumed, and all DNA carrying moisture traces thoroughly scrubbed! This award represents our appreciation for teaching us all the value of cleaning for evil."
While the dust-brained villainess climbed the stage to accept her award, Doctor Lactose sat at the table appreciating her own Gilded Baddie for most profitable dairy based crimes. She was interrupted by her phone vibrating in her lab coat. The Siamese cat quickly picked up, because she'd programmed her phone to accept calls from only one specific number.
"<What is it Mei?>" Doctor Lactose asked in Chinese.
At the same time one of the ninja french maids was hiding in a closet. She'd removed her mask and wig, and washed some of the dye off her fur; revealing a very familiar Siamese cat. The hair extensions on her tail were going to take a lot longer to fix, but Mei Jiang didn't have time to wait any longer before contacting her twin sister.
"<It's Mightmare!>" she hissed with a slight panic in her voice.
"<The milk!!>"
~
With a sigh of satisfaction Fritz finished. He finished right into the sauce pan. Clearly he was being literal when he talked about his "secret ingredient".
"Surely you did not expect me to fornicate with the food?" he said. "Though I am not above adding a little bit of personal flavour, ahahaha."
The second layer of marinade caused Mightmare a lot more distress than the first one.
"Would you imagine that the feedback on my culinary concoctions has improved since I began to, ahem, add more salt."
Mightmare made a drawn-out "mmmmm!" noise through her happle gag that might have translated to "eeeeeew!"
The chef finished smearing his "secret ingredient" enhanced sauce all over Mightmare's front. Salt and pepper shakers followed, then an artistic decoration of tomato slices, onion rings, salad leaves, baby carrots and cucumbers.
"At last, she is finished!" Fritz declared triumphantly.
The stallion with the disappointing lack of a humorous accent swept up the pan and carried the Thanksgiving mare towards the oven. As he laid her on the rack and prepared to push her inside, Mightmare realized that she might finally be able to regain her control and get her rope to cooperate again.
"Don't worry," said Fritz in a worrying tone. "I did not forget your special companion. Fear not, it is specially designed to safely conduct heat without overheating and burning your intimates. It will also remain functional past the intended cooking temperature."
As the heroine feared, what he was talking about was a vibrating dildo. Once it slipped inside her, all of Mightmare's resistance drained away and the golden rope tightened around her as she stifled a moan of pleasure. From her position on her back, she could see the stallion's tail brushing over his tight butt as he leaned over the mare-sized oven. The sight of the huge appliance occuppied all her attention as the chef returned, until he turned her around so she was facing away from it as she was carried towards the oven. With a clank and a jiggle of soft fur, she was placed onto the rack and pushed inside.
Mightmare looked past her marinated mammaries to see the oven door shut tight. The situation seemed quite dire, considering she was naked, trussed up like a turkey, and lying in a greased pan with a carrot shoved up her butt and an apple jammed into her mouth. If only she could get her golden lasso to cooperate. Unfortunately, the automated dildo was a little too efficient at keeping her at the height of arousal. The combined effect of the dildo and Mightmare's secret fetishes was keeping the magic rope tightened around her, and there didn't seem to be anything she could do to escape.
As the superheroine dish faced the heat of the oven, she recalled that just a few hours ago she'd been out on normal patrol, fighting mundane ninja assassin french maids.
~
"Mightmare! You have been chosen! En garde!
The feline french maids in matching low-cut velvet outfits surrounded Mightmare in the dark alleyway. The ninja masks, nunchucks, swords and shurikens fit surprisingly well with their dresses. Observing the cats' matching ponytails, haircuts and grey dyed fur, the mare heroine momentarily wondered if -
"Nope!" the ninja maid interrupted. "You're not gonna be able to stall for time by doing the flashback sequence twice."
"But-" Mightmare said.
"Get back to the present and figure a way out of the oven on your own."
"Aw, okay."
Mightmare blinked. Yup, she was still bound, gagged, marinated, and oh-my-gawd-that-dildo-was-so-goooooooooooood-! It was also getting really hot in here. Through the steamy window of the oven door she could se Fritz von Schlong leaning on the kitchen counter, checking his phone.
One of the ninja maids walked up behind the german stallion with the disappointly lacking accent and poked him on the shoulder.
~
It had been an hour since von Schlong texted Dogfather that "the bird is in the oven" and the fat canine mob boss's guests were getting impatient. The awards show was over, and the villainous gathering had resorted to small talk, which really wasn't their forte. Tensions gathered between rivaling villains, and it looked like it was going to be another insert-villain-name-here ray gun fights.
Just then the dinner bell chimed loudly.
"Ah, here comes the Thanksgiving dish!" Dogfather announced as a pair of ninja maids entered carrying a huge tray covered by a lid.
Licking his chops, the host reached for the lid and revealed...
...Fritz von Schlong posed like a turkey and making gobbling noises. Swirling circles in his eyes suggested he'd recieed a hypnotic persuasion as to his species identity. The Dogfather felt the eyes of every villain in the room silently judging him. Pretty soon they'd be judging him loudly with rude words and ray guns.
~
On the roof of the villainous hideout Mightmare zipped up her costume. She was going to need all of the showers ever to wash all this sauce off her fur, but for now she'd be satisfied with being covered up but sticky.
"I really can't thank you enough for saving me," she told the pair standing beside her.
Dr. Lactose smiled. "Not to worry. We'll measure your gratitude in gallons," she said.
"Like, twice weekly," said Mei Jiang.
END.",
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