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Mad As a March Hare

By: ladyjane2099



Chapter 1

Jordin Tyler dashed inside the Maple Street branch of the Capitol City Bank with a sigh of relief that she had made it before closing time. It was a cool evening in the early spring. Having rushed here from work the beautiful young brunette was still wearing her white lab coat over a blue cotton blouse and gray skirt.

The security guard was a retired policeman. His admiring glance passed over Jordin's high cheekbones and green eyes, her chestnut hair tied up in an unglamorous ponytail, but lingered for a second on the subtle jiggle of her shapely C-cups before sliding to her narrow hips and down her long, silken legs. Jordin felt his eyes slither over her but she was used to it, tedious as it may be she flashed him a polite smile and continued on her way.

Mr. Ennis, the bank manager, checked her out same as the guard, only his eyes started with her legs and never got higher than her bust. He was in his mid 30s, fairly good-looking and seemed to have a good build under his suit. Jordin adjusted her over-large horn-rimmed glasses hoping to draw his gaze to her face. When their eyes finally met he flashed a surprisingly charming smile. Jordin quickly removed the glasses and shoved them into the pocket of her lab coat...then immediately felt silly about it.

Geez Jordin, how old are you... fifteen? She asked herself. Some guy flashes you a smile and you practically go all giggly...

Two of the pretty girls who worked as tellers had already closed up and were counting their drawers, leaving only one line remaining open. There was a middle-aged soccer mom still ahead of her so Jordin pulled out her cell phone and dialed up a co-worker as she waited.

"Carl! Hi!" she began curtly. "Sorry to bother you after hours, but I had a quick question about the stats you sent me this afternoon..."

Absorbing herself in the conversation, Jordin didn't notice an oddly-attired man breeze through the doors behind her. She was only even half watching the soccer mom as she concluded her business and moved off.

"...thanks, Carl. Sorry again for... HEY!"

Jordin was interrupted quite suddenly feeling a hand pat her on the bottom. The skinny man quickly pushed past her but the inappropriate touch was inexcusable. The young engineer whirled on him angrily, being checked out was one thing, touching was...

"There, there, little girl," he fretted with a fake British accent. "Stand to one side. I haven't got all night you know! This is, as the saying goes, a stick-up!"

The man was wearing a very old-fashioned suit... checked vest, neckcloth, and swallow-tail coat, complete with white kid gloves and spats, and an umbrella hooked over one arm. His face had makeup applied to give him a rodent-like appearance, a mustache formed into whiskers and two long rabbit ear prosthetics projecting upward on the sides of his head! As she watched, he pulled a teacup and saucer out of the pocket of his coat and took a jittery sip, forefinger primly extended, as if he hadn't a care in the world!

March Hare! Here? Before Jordin could fully process the fact that a real live supervillain was robbing her bank, another man pounced on her from behind. 

"I'll take that," he said, his big solid arm brazenly snaking around her torso as his free hand snatched her cell phone.

"Hey! Gimme tha...HEY!" Jordin blurted as he cupped her boob, squeezing deliberately.

"Don't want nobody calling the cops now, do we?" Her cell phone disappeared into his pocket, while he took advantage of her surprise to cop a feel of her firm globe.

Gasping indignantly, Jordin pulled away from his grasp and spun to face him. Three masked henchmen were spread out behind her, one carrying an Ingram submachinegun with a long silencer. The poor security guard was sprawled on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

Jordin tried to think what to do. If she could only get a few seconds alone, she could transform herself into the invincible Victory! But how could she do that without revealing her secret identity? Unfortunately she could only think of one way...

"Please don't hurt me!!" she bawled to the man with the big gun. "I'll do anything just please don't... don't-" She broke off, clamping her hand to her mouth. "Oh gawd I'm going to be sick! I have to- ulp!"

Jordin made a dash for the ladies room while everyone else, bank patrons, employees and robbers alike watched her go, staring in apparent confusion at her display of lily-livered cowardice. She ignored them all broadcasting fake sobs the entire way. The thugs laughed aloud behind her, knowing there was no back door in that direction and no way for her to escape. Ignoring the silly girl's flight they set to their intended work.

"My good man, is there a window in that particular washroom?" March Hare asked the bank manager.

Mr. Ennis quickly shook his head.

"Perfect," growled the armed thug. "Hands up everyone!"

The tellers - two blondes and one brunette - put up their hands, their perky young chests thrusting outward against the thin fabric of their blouses as the two unarmed thugs went behind the counter, taking their cellphones and tying their hands behind their backs. Once they were all secure the men set about stuffing every bill in sight into canvas bags.

"It's a Thursday," Mr. Ennis pointed out. "We don't have more than a hundred and fifty thousand in cash on the premises..."

"Ahhh I see..." March Hare drawled, taking another sip of tea. "Tut-tut. That should be sufficient for my purposes, my good man."

"And just what purposes are those, March Hare?" interrupted an arrogant female voice.

All eyes turned to see the lean, lissome form of the superheroine Victory, standing with her legs planted, hands smugly on her hips. You could almost feel the testosterone level in the air rise as Ennis, March Hare and the three thugs stared dumbstruck at her desirable sylph-like curves, clad in a two piece purple costume of clingy Lycra halter top and hot pants, her face half-covered with a matching mask. A silver belt rested around her slim waist and silver bracelets shone on her wrists, not to mention silver high heeled boots.

The three tellers and the soccer mom sighed with relief, knowing that they were surely rescued.

"On second thought, save it!" said the sassy superheroine. "You and your goons have exactly five seconds to surrender!"

"Nonsense, my dear girl," the villain said, flashing a buck-toothed grin as he hurled his teacup and saucer at her.

Victory, possessed of enhanced reflexes and strength, quickly brought up her arms in defense. The razor-edged saucer glanced off her left bracelet and embedded itself in the wooden countertop with a thunk! At the same time, the heroine swept her right arm and batted away the teacup, which flew off to one side and exploded like a grenade.

"That was not very polite," Victory said, cocking her shapely hips.

"Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail!" March Hare shouted to his men. "Get her, you fools!"

Cottontail, the henchman with the machinegun, fired off a burst, the bullets too were deflected by Victory's unbreakable bracelets. This however took no small effort, machine-gun fire was tricky even for her powers!

"You're just wasting ammunition, creep!" the superheroine blustered. "I can keep this up all day!"

Her bluff worked and the frustrated thug stopped firing. At the same moment the other two thugs moved in from the sides seizing the young girl's nubile arms.

"We gotcha, babe!" one of the goons sneered. "Ha-ha! Whatcha gonna do now?"

"Come on, boys, get real," Victory replied with a haughty toss of her luxurious chestnut tresses. She half-turned to her left, bringing her silken knee up into that thug's groin. Before the other had time to react, the heroine had spun around and grabbed his collar. Thanks to the super strength bestowed by her power belt, she easily flipped him over her back, sending both men to the floor in an untidy pile.

The third henchman, stifling a lustful groan at the way Victory's peach-like ass filled out her purple Lycra hot pants, lunged forward, swinging his Ingram like a club. Unfortunately he was a whisker too slow as the lissome lady whipped her left arm around in a backhand that caught him on the side of the neck and dropped him.

"Well, that was easy," Victory said smugly. "Sure you don't want to give up, March...OOOF!"

March Hare's heavy, reinforced umbrella caught her right on the buckle of her power belt! The unexpected blow landed like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind out of her. Keeping presence of mind Victory clasped both hands around the thick shaft, wrenching it away from the villain... and instantly got a face full of purplish smoke which squirted from the tip!

"Oh!" the superheroine gasped, as the noxious vapor rapidly impregnated her lungs, quickly sapping her superior strength, making her feel drowsy and virtually defenseless. "Nnnnno..."

"You reckoned without my sleepy-bye gas, didn't you?" March Hare said triumphantly. "Disarm her please, gentlemen."

Flopsy and Mopsy scrambled to their feet, grinning as they grabbed Victory's trim figure. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her upper body with hands none too shy about grabbing her plump breasts. One of the men approached from the front, grabbing at her hips and waist, trying to immobilize her. The cocky heroine did her best to fight, but thanks to the sleepy-bye gas, her magnificent body felt klutzy, her legs wobbling like soggy spaghetti. She felt one hand slide up her slender thigh, another grasp her pert booty over the thin Lycra of her hotpants. She twisted and writhed but in her disoriented state they manhandled her easily despite her powers. To make matters worse, while the thugs were grappling with the gallant girl, the damaged buckle of her powerbelt came undone in their groping hands!

"Please... don't take..." Victory murmured helplessly but the hoodlums stripped off her invincible belt and dropped it without even realizing that they had just rendered the beautiful superheroine completely powerless!

"P-please... I... I... ohhh nnnoooo ..." Finally overcome by the sleepy-bye gas, Victory's eyes fluttered closed. Her long shapely legs folded gracefully and the girl sagged unconscious and helpless into the arms of her captors.

"Some bonus, eh boss?" said Flopsy, grinning hopefully.

"Yeah, can we keep her?" added Mopsy.

"I fear not, my lads," March Hare said. "The Italian won't wait. We have to tie her up and leave her this time. We must away!"

Chapter 2

Victory's body felt as if it were floating on a cloud, drifting in the dark. The stuporous fog caused by the gas was slowly lifting, but for now she was helpless, unable to either see or move. She couldn't even remember where she was. However sounds were beginning to drift through the fog to her delicate ears...sounds of someone moving around.

She was lying on the floor, slightly cushioned by a simple piece of cardboard. Her hands were tied behind her. Victory gently flexed her body and found that her silver boots had been taken off and soft nylon ropes had been tied around her trim bare ankles and her equally bare wrists. She realized with dismay her unbreakable silver bracelets had also been removed. Adding insult to injury, a cloth gag had been shoved into her mouth.

Victory groaned as everything started to come back to her. Had she really allowed herself to be ludicrously defeated by March Hare and his men? While the bank employees watched no less? Now it seemed that she had been left trussed up in a storeroom. And without her power belt, she was no longer a powerful superheroine, but just a skinny girl in a skimpy little uniform! She struggled in her bonds, feeling weak, useless and humiliated.

Suddenly she felt hands touching her. Victory groaned softly and tried to wiggle away from those hands...who could it be?

"Don't struggle now," spoke a soft voice. "Just a moment..."

Mr. Ennis, the bank manager, had found her legs. As his fingers caressed Victory's toes, tickling the vulnerable soles of her soft, bare feet, the helpless supergirl almost giggled from sheer relief, thinking he would obviously untie her.

"Victory? Are you awake?" he whispered almost directly into her ear.

She felt his hands move upward, gently gliding along her calves and over her knees, making goosebumps ripple across her soft skin. From there his exploration led inexorably to her creamy thighs, where he caught the lower hem of her little Lycra hot pants and gave them a hopeful tug.

The bound superheroine wanted to tell him to get his grubby paws off of her, but with the gag in her mouth it came out as a feeble moan. "Mmmmm..."

"When I agreed to help March Hare rob this bank," he breathed, "by tipping him off when the payroll was going to be here, I never imagined I might get you as part of the deal."

An inside job? She should have guessed!

"I had them put us in a separate store room from the rest," Ennis went on, "to avoid any...interruptions."

Leaning over her, pressing his body against her back, his right hand moved to the top of her halter, quickly undoing her bodice! Victory repressed a shudder as his strong hands slowly removed the top of her uniform and then cupped her plump naked boobs, thumbs rubbing against her rosy pink nipples.

This couldn't be happening! Who did he think he was? WHAT did he think he was doing??

"MMMM! MMM!" Victory protested, muffled by the rag occupying her mouth.

"The first time I saw you," he whispered, as his hips molded themselves against her tight little butt, "I wanted to fuck your brains out. I can't help myself."

The helpless superheroine could smell the musk of his aftershave, feel the hardness of his cock through his suit pants as he pressed against her from behind, and when his lips began planting kisses across her bare neck and shoulders a ripple of arousal washed through the heroine. Victory felt her body squirm with pleasure as his hand moved downward along her bare midriff, around her hips and down inside her pants.

It must be the gas, Victory realized foggily. With my mind weak and groggy my body can't help but...

"Nnnnnnnnnnnn!" Victory groaned, struggling to resist. But tied up as she was, and with the sleepy-bye gas still lingering in her system, it was hopeless. She could only lie there helplessly as he rolled her onto her back and pulled her pants down, tugging the waist band over the gentle curve of her booty and past her knees, where they got hung up at the ropes around her ankles. Pushing her thighs apart, his hand probed in between them, stroking her mound over the plain white thong she was wearing. Wasting little time, his fingers pushed aside her flimsy panties and slipped underneath to the moist, secret place that lay hidden within...

"Ssssttaaaahhhhhh," she hissed, sucking in her breath as his fingers found her labia and began stroking her vulnerable pink slit.

Victory's body arched itself toward his groping fingers against her will. She began to feel dizzy with arousal, making it harder still to shake off the effects of the gas. The very idea of being undressed and taken by this man dropped a ball of revulsion into the pit of her stomach. Yet his touch still provoked an erotic quiver of excitement in her which was almost intoxicating. The powerless heroine couldn't resist picturing his huge manhood, wondering how it would feel to get LAID right here and now, to have him pull down her panties and just THRUST that rigid man meat into her succulent cooz.

"Ah gaahh," the heroine moaned, summoning all the will power she could to banish such thoughts.

"Yeah," he hissed, "let me have some of that tasty snatch!"

Before she could begin to formulate an escape plan her brains were scrambled once again as one of Ennis's fingers penetrated her. A sensual shiver ran up her spine as Victory felt her tight little cunt get wet, lubricating that invading digit. Her creamy thighs opened wide like wings, submissively, totally beyond her control. The bank manager began to thrust and wriggle his finger inside her and the superheroine's head seemed to lurch with every move. She moaned softly, flooding with shame as her soft little nipples tingled and hardened. Her slim hips bucked involuntarily and she could no longer deny her eager desire to be taken.

Ennis picked up on the signal immediately. He pulled away - Victory sucked in a soft gasp as his finger slid out of her - and began untying her ankles. The bank manager worked fast, and the moment they were free, he slid her thong down her silken legs and tossed it aside. Without the continued stimulus of his fingers in her love tunnel, the heroine's head began to clear. Fast as he had freed and stripped her, Victory knew she wouldn't have much time while Ennis was fumbling to get his pants open. She reached out with one foot, finding his broad chest and caressing it with her polished toes.

"That's right, honey," he said smugly as he unbuckled his pants. "You like this doncha? Just gimme one sec..."

Her other foot kicked out at his face, catching him right on the jaw. With a startled groan, he collapsed onto the floor. Victory sat up, shaking the last few patches of fog from her mind. Now she just needed to free herself and hope that March Hare hadn't taken her powerbelt with him when he left...

***

"Is everyone okay?" asked a male voice in the dark, the security guard.

"I guess so," came a soft, timid reply. "I've almost gotten loose."

"Just give me a minute," the guard said again, blundering around in the dark. "It'll be easier if I can just... find..." Suddenly the lights came on!

The 3 young tellers and the soccer mom were perched on boxes of cleaning supplies. The soccer mom was rubbing her chafed wrists, but the girls still had their ankles and hands tied.

"Is Victory here?" the guard asked, looking around urgently.

"I don't think so," the soccer mom replied. She started working to free one of the tellers.

"Who cares?" scoffed one of the girls. "She didn't do us a lot of good, did she?"

"We're locked in the storage room, Miss Burke," the guard replied, as he untied her. "Concrete walls and a metal door. She's the only one who can get us out."

"Fat chance," said one of the others. "You saw how quickly Br'er Rabbit took her down! She's probably just as helpless as we are..."

Just then the door to the storage closet door was torn open! On the other side stood Victory, once again wearing her belt and bracelets and clearly back to full power!

"It's not how quickly you're knocked down that matters," Victory began confidently. "But how quickly you get back up!"

The prisoners applauded, those whose hands were free too at least.

"You're amazing!" said the freed teller, rushing forward and throwing her arms around Victory's swanlike neck. "Never doubted you for a minute!"

"All in a day's work, miss," said Victory, gently removing her hands and stepping haughtily out of reach. "Did any of you happen to overhear March Hare saying anything about his plans?"

The guard's brow wrinkled. "Uh... I dunno... I think he was in a hurry to meet someone..."

Probably too busy staring at my chest to have caught anything important, Victory thought. The sassy superheroine rolled her eyes and sighed, remembering how he had looked her over when she entered as Jordin Tyler. Men! They were all useless!

"The Italian!" the brunette girl said. "That's what he called him. He said 'The Italian won't wait.' Does that help?"

"Not so much as I'd like, but it's a start," Victory said. "I'll leave you to contact the police and inform them not just of the robbery but of Mr. Ennis's involvement. Yes, he confessed to me that he helped March Hare. He's tied up in the next room. If I hurry, perhaps I can catch March Hare before he gets too far with the bank's money!"


Mad As a March Hare



And with that she turned imperiously on her high heel, treating them all to one last look at her pert little ass as she left them.

"I'll bet she has butt implants," one of the tellers whispered cattily to the other, watching the heroine leave.

Outside the bank, dusk was beginning to fall. Her custom-built Victorycycle was already waiting for her next to the curb. "The Italian" could refer to a well-known weapons dealer named Enrico Manetti. If that was what March Hare needed $150,000 for, it was definitely not good news. The difficulty was WHERE?

Victory slipped her delectable derrière into the saddle of her iron steed and punched up the computer. It was a long shot, but if that henchman still had Jordin's cell phone in his pocket...

BEEP! The superheroine smiled as the GPS map of Capitol City lit up, with a flashing light slowly moving toward the Linville neighborhood. She kicked her Victorycycle into gear and roared off into the gathering dusk.

Chapter 3

By the time Victory reached Linville, her quarry had moved into the semi-industrial Stockdale area. The purple-clad heroine pulled her Victorycycle to a stop next to the Imperial Trucking Company, not too far from the airport. The business office faced the street, and inside the chain link enclosure were two big garages and three or four parked trucks. The place looked closed for the night, the gate locked, but according to the GPS, her cell phone was inside.

Victory strode up to the office door. She could easily kick it open and burst in on whatever was going on, but it might be better to find out what WAS going on first. With the super strength endowed by her power belt, it was no great feat to leap to the top of the 9-foot fence, execute a graceful somersault, and land on her feet inside the compound. As her high heels hit the gravel, the jarring impact unlatched her silver belt, which fell off and dropped to the ground at her feet!

"Shit!" Victory gasped in surprise. "What the...?"

For a moment, the spunky heroine felt terribly vulnerable, inside the lair of her enemies while momentarily bereft of all her powers! Wouldn't it be unfortunate to get CAUGHT like this? Glancing around as if her imagined ambush might actually appear, she quickly picked up her belt to inspect the buckle. With no small amount of dismay Victory noticed that the heavy blow it had sustained earlier (from March Hare's umbrella of ALL things) had damaged the secret locking mechanism, keeping the entire buckle from fully engaging. No wonder those thugs had been able to remove it during the struggle! The latch itself did still seem to work. The lissome lady snugged it around her narrow waist, tossed her luxurious tresses over her shoulder, and stepped boldly inside the building, her confidence wavered only slightly. She would have to take extra care should any fighting break out.

Passing through a storeroom full of auto parts, Victory emerged into an enormous garage. Instinctively she crouched behind a line of grimy oil barrels, staying in the shadows.

There were only three vehicles in the garage... a beat-up looking green van, a medium sized truck with its tailgate down, and a black Mercedes. Standing near the limo, dressed in a black Armani suit with a red tie, was The Italian, Enrico Manetti - Victory recognized his picture from a police bulletin. His assistant, a bald man in a leather jacket, was counting a large amount of money while March Hare's three henchmen watched nervously. As he finished, the assistant stood up and whispered something in Manetti's ear.

March Hare himself stepped down from the back of the truck, where he had been inspecting something in a long crate. "They are just as you advertised, dear fellow!" the villain said, clapping his hands together with joy. "Splendid! I'll take all five! Flopsy, Mopsy, load them in the vehicle, chaps!"

"Not so fast, coniglio," The Italian snapped. "It seems your payment is incompleto!"

"What?" March Hare said, waving one hand at the loot. "B-b-but isn't it all there?"

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Manetti said. "The price I quoted you was a quarter of a million."

"A trifle, dear boy," March Hare squeaked. "A trifle! Surely the Jeweled Dagger of Karnak I presented you with..?"

"THAT was payment in full for the Enigma Box," The Italian cut him off, shaking his head resolutely. "THIS is a separate transaction. I expect another hundred thousand, or our deal is off."

"Tut-tut, my fine fellow," March Hare giggled nervously as he pulled a saucer and teacup from the pocket of his coat. "No need to be hasty. Surely we can come to some a-a-arrangement..."

"And do not even think," Manetti warned, "about trying to make off with them. They are no good to you without the guidance system passwords."

Victory had heard enough. Whatever was in those crates sounded pretty dangerous, streamers and balloons didn't have "guidance systems"! Smiling confidently, she rose to full height...

"What have we HERE?" said a gruff voice in an Italian accent, as a man in a leather jacket jumped the stunning superheroine from behind. "An American supermodel?"

The surprised superheroine squeaked in alarm as male hands swept over her elegant curves, caressing the smooth bare skin of her abdomen as the thug trapped her arms behind her. With a raucous laugh, his arms folded around Victory's statuesque body as he hoisted the slender girl off the floor, her classy legs kicking uselessly in the air.

"Unhand me!" the superheroine warned, raking one high heel down the front of his shin.

The man was tough enough not to let go, which hardly made any difference as a second later her super strength broke his grip effortlessly. Landing on her feet, Victory elbowed him in the chest, then grabbed his arm and flipped him over the barrels. Wasting no more time the sassy superheroine leapt into the middle of the room! Confronting the gathering of criminals with her usual cocky pose, boots set wide, fists on the subtle curves of her hips.

"Tea party's over, March Hare!" she challenged boldly...sure to keep a cautious eye on that treacherous umbrella!

Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail charged, getting soundly thumped for their trouble. Victory was like a dancer, punching, spinning and high-kicking in a graceful ballet of devastation, while Manetti and his assistant watched, awestruck.

"Ready to surrender now?" the beautiful superlady smirked, cocking her shapely round tail in a way that made The Italian's breath catch in his throat and his cock harden.

"Don't be absurd, dear girl," he replied, dropping his teacup and raising his umbrella like a gun.

But as Victory started confidently towards March Hare, her right foot abruptly froze in place, jerking her to a stop! Her high heel had slipped between the iron bars of a drain in the concrete floor. The gap was less than two inches, but her boot was wedged! Of all the stupid... Desperately the cocky superheroine tugged at her foot...

March Hare fired his bumbershoot! The tip of it became a projectile, trailing some kind of tassel... Even as Victory wrenched her heel loose the split-second distraction left her helpless to evade. Raising her bracelet to deflect the missile proved futile as well, it had become a small net, dropping over her upper torso...and suddenly coiling around her as if it was alive, entwining her slim arms!

"Ungh!" the heroine grunted, buttocks tensing as she struggled to break free of her straitjacket. "This silly thing won't hold me for long, March Hare!"

"Those nanofibers could quite easily hold a raging bulephant!" March Hare hooted. "I imagine it can restrain you quite effecita- effisha...quite well..."

Victory strained against the constricting nanocords, certain her strength could break them if she just focused... But the three henchmen were back, all three of them piling on at once, their rough hands grappling with her svelte, scantily-clad frame as they pinioned her. Somewhere in the random scuffle, one of the thugs unbuckled her silver belt and tossed it aside! Another took away her bracelets! The suddenly helpless heroine could only thrash futilely in their grasp!

"Let go of me!" the defeated girl mewled, holding back tears of frustration as she squirmed with feminine helplessness. "Get your paws off of me!"

How could this have happened to her? If it hadn't been for the humiliating mishap of her stuck heel, Victory would have mopped the floor with all seven of them! But now that her powers had been stripped from her, she was just an ordinary girl!

"Who is this?" asked The Italian, his voice rising with interest.

"This... er... is Victory," March Hare explained, with a small laugh. "Capitol City's resident champion of justice, all around do-gooder and pain in the ass, don't you know."

"She is exquisite," Manetti said, his eyes sparkling. "I think SHE will do nicely." March Hare glanced up at him, arching one eyebrow. "In lieu of the hundred thousand you owe me... I want HER!"

Victory gasped in outrage. "Now wait just a minute!" the helpless heroine protested, flushing with indignation in the hands of her brawny captors. "I am not yours to sell! I am a superheroine! You can't just BUY me like a... like a-"

"Done and done!" March Hare quickly interrupted. He turned to Victory, pulling a thick wad of cloth from his coat. "Time to go sleepy-bye again, dearie!"

"No! Donnnph!" Victory pleaded, as he clamped the cloth firmly over her nose and mouth.

Behind her mask the superheroine's green eyes went wide with fear as she smelled the familiar cloying aroma of his sleepy-bye gas! Now with only the strength of an ordinary girl the once mighty heroine was trapped and helpless. Even her voice was muffled by the cloth, eliminating even her ability to protest! The rag seemed to clamp tighter and tighter as the fumes invaded her brain like fog, quickly making her feel lightheaded and befuddled, draining her will to resist.

March Hare's thugs held her tightly, having no qualms at all about feeling her up as she struggled ineffectually to escape. Even while her brain slowly slipped from consciousness she could feel their hands groping her boobs, grabbing and kneading the firm flesh over her Lycra top. Squirm as she might she could not keep them from grabbing handfuls of her pert little booty. Their hands roamed all over her slender frame, pawing and taking full advantage of the young woman's helplessness.

Her treacherous body began to respond against her will, heart thumping, nipples hardening as a wave of arousal washed over her. Alarms sounded dimly in her foggy head, too late remembering the OTHER effects of the sleepy-bye gas. Enticed by the very feel of their hands on the fabric of her scant uniform, Victory quivered with a submissive yearning to be touched, caressed, to be t-t-taken... Her resistance ended with a soft moan as the sexy supergirl succumbed to the drug, sagging limp and helpless into their clutches.

Chapter 4

"Buona sera, signorina." The voice cut through the fog of her mind with a familiar accent. It seemed far away, faint but unmistakable.

Victory came to slowly, she was lying on a plush leather sofa with her wrists handcuffed in front of her. She still felt very groggy from the knockout gas, but at least her uniform... skintight purple halter top, hot pants, boots, even her mask... was still on her. Only her bracelets and power belt had been taken away. Cautiously the young woman swung her lissome legs around and sat up...the sudden motion making her head spin slightly.

She was in the trucking company office. Manetti sat across from her, his feet propped up on a battered mahogany desk which held a computer, stacks of files, and (to only slight relief) her power belt and bracelets. The wall on the right was covered by clipboards of tally sheets, a Sports Illustrated swimsuit calendar, and a file cabinet with a couple of softball trophies on top. To the left was a big copying machine. A glass window looked out at the truck bay area. In the doorway stood Manetti's assistant and bodyguard, both watching her.

The Italian got up and walked around the desk. "I trust that you are refreshed and ready for some... exercise?"

The bald assistant had been on his cell phone. "The jet is waiting, Rico," he said. "We should go."

"No rush, Guido," Manetti said, taking off his jacket and tie. "It will take March Hare two or three hours to set up. With his penchant for theatrics, the pompous fool will no doubt wait until midnight to launch the rockets regardless."

"ROCKETS?" Victory squeaked, her voice sounding like a frightened little girl's. So THAT was what was in the crates! "You sold rockets to a maniac like March Hare?"

"Yes," he said dismissively. "But do not concern yourself with that. Considering how easily you were beaten and captured by that prancing buffoon, you have proven yourself naught but an inept piece of tail... I must wonder, how is it you have come by such a grand reputation?"

"Must've been luck, Rico," the bodyguard said, absently rubbing the bruise on his chest where Victory had elbowed him. But with typically Italian machismo, he certainly wasn't going to admit that a mere girl had got the better of him. "Or maybe just that outfit!"

The men laughed. Victory squirmed in her bonds, her cheeks burning with shame, wondering how she had landed herself in this predicament. The heroine's beautiful green eyes strayed to her power belt, out of reach on the desk. Just let her get it back and these goons would be singing a different tune! But handcuffed and outnumbered by big, burly men, she didn't see how it was possible.

Manetti unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, revealing a lean but well-muscled chest. "Fortunately Mr. Imperatore has been kind enough to let me use his office for the evening, most convenient indeed as I now have some new...eh, equipment to inspect...ha!"

Without giving Victory's fuzzy brain time to process his words, he reached down and grabbed her bound wrists, yanking the slender girl to her feet. Helpless in his arms, the captive heroine realized with a sinking sensation in her stomach what he intended to do.

"NO! You wouldn't! You can't, I am Victory!"

The Italian gave her no chance at all to escape as his hands went unerringly to her shoulders, fingers caressing the smooth skin under the straps of her halter top. His touch sent a shiver down Victory's spine and even as she tried to push away, he pulled her more tightly into his grasp. With her wrists cuffed she had no way to resist as Manetti pulled the straps over her shoulders and down her slender arms, exposing the full glory of her plump breasts!

"nnnnoooo...Don't!" Victory whined, her cheeks as rosy as the buds of her nipples now on full display.

"Very nice indeed," her captor hissed.

Victory squirmed but he kept her held with one arm, as his free hand came up to grope her vulnerable chest. To her surprise his touch was almost tender, caressing and squeezing the firm C-cups admiringly. His tenderness however did not lessen her humiliation as her nipples hardened from his attention. Quickly his arms encircled her waist, hands grabbing for the creamy roundness of her peach-like ass. Shame flushed through the heroine feeling herself groped by this vile arms-dealer, knowing that there was little she could do to stop it.

"Yes, you are already learning to like it, no?" the Italian groaned, squeezing her pert backside. "You will make a grand addition to my collection of sex slaves...my gioiello della corona, if you will!"

I'm to be part of a whole collection? Victory thought fearfully. I must find a way to escape...though that possibility seemed less and less likely with each passing moment.

Even as her muzzy head spun over escape options, her thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of his fingers slipping under her waistband. Without a word, Manetti tugged both her hotpants and the thong underneath down her tanned legs, letting them fall to the floor around her ankles.

"No! Don't you dare!" Victory gasped. "You can't..."

The feel of cool air on her exposed booty underscored the full extent of her nakedness. The fact that she still wore her boots and mask seemed scant consolation as her entire body flushed with the heat of her embarrassment. With appalling ease, Manetti spun her around and threw her face down onto the copying machine. The plastic flap was thrown back, letting her pliant globes lie flat against the cool glass surface.

"Like or not, signorina," Manetti said, "you are mine now...bought and paid for."

"Never!"

In immediate contradiction of her protest, his hands slid downward along either side of her bare abdomen, once again grasping the shapely softness of her naked booty. SLAP! The flat of his hand came down hard on the yielding flesh of her peach-like ass. 

"OUCH!" Victory let out a yelp of surprise at the exquisite sting of his hand, squirming with humiliation as he spanked her again and again, each slap bringing with it the stinging shame of her defeat. "NO! STOP IT!"

"You will learn that I do not tolerate... how you say?... 'sass' from my sex slaves," the Italian growled.

The heroine let out a soft whimper of frustration as she tried to stand up but could not. The single hand holding her down was simply too strong... Next Manetti kicked her booted feet apart, forcing her to spread her legs and exposing her shaven pink slit, so warm and tender and oh so vulnerable. The Italian's fingers dipped down, stroking the seam of her tight labia, pushing her pussy lips apart and rubbing her sweet spot as he jockeyed himself into position...

"Nnnnnn! Stop!" the superheroine cried, choking back tears at the full realization of her own helplessness. "Please stop! You cannuhnn't... do this to me!"

She felt the head of his member press against her soft spot with a sudden rush of exquisite dread. The once mighty heroine had no way to protect herself from the whims and desires of this vile man. While his henchmen watched, grinning, his thick cock pressed forward, parting her petals and entering her from behind, filling her with a deep sudden thrust that took her breath away.

"OH GAWD NO!" Victory mewled. "Please...don't do this..."

The Italian made no reply save for an eager grunt as he drew back, making another thrust. Feeling him beginning to pump Victory closed her eyes against her own helplessness, his member sliding in and out of her, in and out. She tried to push away again but Manetti was too powerful, he shoved her back down and got a firm grip on her narrow hips, thrusting his rigid shaft deeper and harder, making her groan uncomfortably. A sudden surge of sensual electricity raced along her spine as her body began to respond. Writhing with unwanted arousal, her elbow slipped and she heard the click of a button on the console she was braced against. Then she felt a humming vibration from the copying machine and the blinding white light passed along her torso, scanning her naked breasts!

"Wait..." Victory whimpered. "Please wait... stop! Oh gawd stop!" 

Manetti ignored her, or perhaps he enjoyed her pathetic pleading. Again and again he thrust, his humping causing her elbow to slip against that button each time, again and again that hum and that searching beam of light. From far away Victory heard the whisper of paper landing in the basket. The young girl now found herself unable to do anything but struggle to brace herself while the Italian had his way with her. Her violated little cunt quivered around his iron-hard tool, taking his length deeper and deeper. Her long, lissome legs trembled and her knees bowed weakly. With every thrust he forced waves of unwanted arousal washing over her, until her brain was practically saturated with it.

Feeling her body begin to match his rhythm, the Italian released her hips, and reached around to grab her breasts. The heroine's mouth gaped open as her breath now came in short quick gasps. She felt the man tugging on her boobs, stimulating her defenseless nipples but her brain felt like mush. Overwhelmed by humiliation and forced arousal her defeat became total as her mind surrendered just as her body had. 




Mad As a March Hare



I'm helpless...Victory realized, as a moan escaped her soft lips. I can't stop him from having his way with me...I can't...resist...can't... As if sensing her ultimate surrender, Manetti reached up and unceremoniously pulled off Victory's mask!

"NO!" the exposed heroine cried out, only then realizing there's always a lower point.

The heroine shifted, trying to bring her hands up to cover her face. Her sudden squirming was accompanied but a fierce but unintelligible grunt in Italian. Manetti clenched her tightly to him groaning as he came...hard! Victory gasped feeling the rush of warmth inside her tunnel as he filled her with hot sticky fluid.

"That was... very nice," Manetti panted, pulling out. "I certainly got my money's worth."

Released from the Italian's clutches, Victory slumped to the floor, her legs curled weakly underneath her, still feeling his warmth inside her. Unmasked and powerless, the captive heroine felt too spent to even care what happened next. She pulled her knees into her chest, whimpering and trying to quell her unfulfilled arousal.

"Guido, Mario," The Italian said, dropping the once-proud heroine's mask on the desk with her power items, "bring the car around to the front." As the henchmen left, he sighed. "You will enjoy my villa in Tuscany, signorina Vittoria. No more worries of fighting crime or other responsibilities to overwhelm your silly little brain. You will have nothing to do but lie around my swimming pool... until I have use of you that is!" He chortled a little laugh, turning towards the door. "Come now... oh and remove those boots, my sex slaves are not allowed clothing...ever."

Somehow that did it. The idea of spending the rest of her life as the naked fuck-toy slave of an arms dealer sparked something inside the young heroine. Sliding gracefully across the floor on her knees, she let her arms snake seductively around Manetti's legs as he fastened his trousers back.

"Please..." she whimpered, as one hand slipped to his crotch, gently massaging his testicles through the cloth. "Please?"

"What?" he said, amused. "Not sated yet?"

Coyly Victory shook her head, green eyes playing mischievous havoc with his as she shifted her body closer, into position to give him a blowjob. As she reached inside his shorts and his boner, about to go limp, sprang back to life.

"Well, who am I to deny you?" he sighed, letting his trousers fall and reaching out to stroke her lovely chestnut hair.

Victory leaned forward, her rosy lips parted to bestow an open-mouthed kiss on his erect member. Suddenly she pulled away and shoved. With his trousers around his ankles, The Italian reeled back onto the leather sofa, calling for his henchmen.

Riding a rush of adrenaline Victory sprang to her feet, haphazardly pulling her hotpants and thong up as she did. By the time Manetti got his bearings, the spunky superheroine had already reached the desk and snatched up her power belt. It took two tries to whip it around her slender waist and fasten it with her hands cuffed, but then power swelled through her body like lightning.

The cuffs broke like toys.

One minute later, the bald assistant and the bodyguard entered through the front door, and found VICTORY waiting for them, fully dressed, with her silver power-enhancing belt snug around her alluring hips and her bracelets once again on her wrists.

"Hello, boys!" she said smugly. "Let's try this again!"

Chapter 5

Once more Victory raced through the streets of Capitol City, weaving in and out of the evening traffic and attracting the sort of admiring looks a beautiful woman in a tight, revealing costume riding a powerful motorcycle always attracts.

It was nine thirty. If The Italian was right, she had plenty of time until midnight, but if he was wrong...

After questioning him, the sassy superheroine had left Manetti and his goons tied up in the back of his limousine. The stolen bank money was safely stowed on the Victorycycle, awaiting the opportunity to return it.

Victory bit her lip. It nagged her a bit that Manetti and his men might get free. She would have liked to turn them over to the authorities but stopping March Hare was more important. The piggish men of the Capitol City PD, resentful of a woman repeatedly showing them up, would probably have detained her with a lot of pointless questions just to spite her. Unless...

The stunning superlady activated her hands off headset and speed-dialed. The phone line hummed and then a pretty Latina voice said, "Hola! You have reached Sasha Cortez. Please leave a message and a number where you can be reached. Gracias."

Oh damn, it was Sasha's night off! Victory's green eyes narrowed behind her mask. It looked like she was on her own.

This time the GPS map led her into the hills overlooking the city. Purring silently, the Victorycycle stopped behind the old abandoned Mayfair Psychiatric Clinic, tucked way back in the boondocks. Gracefully Victory slipped her Lycra-clad booty off of her metal steed and stole like a shadow up to one of the doors. The lock was rusty and easily forced.

Once inside, the spunky superheroine crept along the dark corridor of a patient ward. The doors of the long vacant rooms hung open, allowing the moonlight filtering through the windows to lie across the dusty floor like ghosts. Her high heel stepped on a warped floorboard with a heart-stopping CREAK! Victory jumped, body tensing, skin crawling with goosebumps. For a moment, she felt just like the stupid chick in a horror movie, just before the psycho ambushes her and buries an axe in her head.

Come on, get a grip! she admonished herself.

Moments later, the heroine reached the central area of the hospital. She found her cell phone in a wastebasket along with the phones of the other bank employees, so she was definitely in the right place. To her right was the clinic's solarium. The grimy glass windows had been recently cleaned, and through them in the courtyard outside she could make out five upright shapes in the moonlight! The rockets! Loaded and ready for lift-off! But where was March Hare?

"Give it up, sugar," said a deep male voice behind her.

Victory turned and saw March Hare's three henchmen standing guard over an office door.

"The boss will want to see you," Cottontail said, slapping a billy club threateningly into the palm of his left hand. "Upright or not, we ain't choosy."

"We're gonna get thumped again, ain't we?" muttered Mopsy, sotto voce.

"You got that right," the spunky superlady smirked.

Victory launched herself into the brawny men like a tightly-coiled spring, flawless legs swinging, gorgeous bosom bouncing slightly against the restraint of her clingy Lycra uniform. They might have been trying to grab her belt and take it from her, but she never gave them the chance. In ten seconds they were all sprawled on the floor, groaning.

Raising one aristocratic eyebrow, Victory kicked down the door. The light was on in here, and she found March Hare sitting behind a decrepit old desk, his hands folded over the handle of his umbrella. An ornate wooden box, about the size of a cigar box, was sitting on the desk in front of him.

"Hands where I can see them, March Hare!" the superheroine ordered. "Put down the umbrella and step away from it, nice and slow!"

"Yikes!" blurted the villain with a start. Slowly he lay his bumbershoot down and raised his gloved hands to show them empty. "Foiled again!"

Victory frowned, eyes wandering to the box. Could it be the Enigma Box she had heard him talking about earlier?

March Hare noticed the flicker in her green eyes. "D-dash it all!" he said nervously. "That box holds the secret to the entire operation! I forbid you to open it!"

"Oh, really?" Victory sneered, striking her cockiest pose as she complacently picked up the box. "You should realize by now that you can't intimidate me that easily!"

The heroine opened the box and was immediately hit in the face by a puff of bluish-pink gas!

"No!" Victory gasped... she stepped back, waving her hands frantically to clear the gas, but her head was already swimming with drowsiness, eyelids fluttering. Her pretty knees knocked together as all the strength seemed to drain out of her lovely legs.

"Outsmarted yourself that time, didn't you?" March Hare said, covering his own face with a handkerchief. "I did warn you not to open it!"

Feeling really, really stupid for letting herself be outmaneuvered like this, Victory struggled to remain conscious. She grabbed the desk trying to hold herself upright, but it was no use. With each passing second, her brain fell deeper into the sleepy spell of the gas. Her arms felt like rubber. The sexy superheroine wilted like a flower and dropped to the floor unconscious.

"My, my, isn't this embarrassing?" said March Hare to his henchmen as they stumbled through the door, groaning and massaging their bruises. "The oh-so-arrogant Victory seems to have gotten her cocky little arse captured yet again! You know what to do with her, gentlemen!"

"With pleasure, boss," the thugs chorused, grinning with delight as together they picked up the limp superlady and laid her across the desk... where they eagerly began to strip off her clothing.

Victory regained her senses some time later. She came to slowly, it seemed each time she was exposed to the sleepy-bye gas she was more susceptible to it and more deeply affected by it. Gradually she realized she was lying on a hospital gurney on top of clean white sheets. She shifted awkwardly, realizing she could not move at all. Nylon restraints were strapped across her legs and abdomen, holding her in place, not that they needed to. The heroine slumped back on the cot, sighing weakly. Her head still felt drugged and her body sluggish, as if she had been asleep for hours!

"Wakey, wakey!" March Hare crowed, as he saw her body stirring. "Welcome back to the land of the living, my poppet!" Hooking his umbrella over his arm, he hauled an enormous pocket watch from his coat. "It is now... five minutes to midnight! You're just in time for the fireworks, don't you know!"

"F-fireworks?" Victory said fuzzily. "Wh-what f-fire-" Midnight? she thought in panic. Was she too late?

They were in the solarium, which was now brightly lit. The five rockets were visible in the courtyard outside. The helpless heroine squirmed against her restraints, her spirits sinking as she realized that her super strength had been taken away from her again. Painfully raising her head, she blushed crimson when she realized...Her Victory uniform was gone!

Instead, she had been dressed in an Alice in Wonderland sexy halloween costume. Her sylph-like body was clad in a short blue dress and a white pinafore, the bodice so tight, the rounded shapes of her breasts were mashed together and pouring out of the low cut top. The skirt, with a lacy white petticoat underneath, was so short it didn't quite cover up her flimsy nylon panties with "Eat Me!" written on the front. Even her long silken legs were sheathed in white thigh-high stockings with little blue ribbons. Only her mask had been left on.

March Hare's three henchmen were standing off to one side, practically drooling. Victory moaned with something like disgust at the thought of being manhandled by them... removing her uniform and her underwear, probably fondling her while they had the chance, then putting this sexy outfit on her! The revulsion and anger at the mere idea set her pulse racing! Male hands... stroking her...

Get a grip on yourself, girl! Victory told herself angrily. She was about to protest when she saw a second hospital gurney on her other side. A man was lying in it, but he wasn't restrained as she was. He was just asleep.

"Ah yes!" March Hare said, rushing over to the gurney. "You've spotted Wopsy! My loyalest and truest henchman, he bravely volunteered (with only a modicum of subtle persuasion) to test my S-23 formula! Distilled from the juices of the rare Maffidius orchid found only in the uncharted backwaters of the Amazon rain forest, it is the ultimate sleepy-bye formula! Would you believe Wopsy has been asleep for... how long has it been now, lads?"

"Going on six weeks, boss," volunteered Cottontail.

"WEEKS?" Victory gulped. That wasn't sleep, that was a COMA!

"This is the only antidote," the villain said, holding up a small bottle containing maybe half an ounce of amber liquid. "I gave it to you because I wanted you awake so that I could rub your nose in your failure!"

The heroine scowled at him. "Thanks a lot!" she sulked.

"Picture it if you will!" March Hare soliloquized. "Five vials of S-23, carefully burst over strategic points of our fair city! People falling into sleep by the thousands, by the millions! Forever and ever! No more nasty people running about, no more pollution, no more buses, taxis, subways, streetcars, rickshaws, trains, planes, automobiles... nothing but blessed silence!" He tugged his hanky out again. "One could almost weep for joy!"

"You're insane," Victory whispered, her body shivering all over. 

His henchmen were rubbing their hands with glee as they thought of all that loot just lying around the city waiting to be taken, with nobody to interfere!

March Hare took no notice. "And it all happens in less than... gracious!... one minute!"

Chapter 6

"You'll never get away with this, March Hare!" Victory said, glowering up at the villain.

"Poppet, you are ADORABLE when you say things like that!" the villain laughed, leaning over her as one hand almost gently squeezed her right breast over her Alice costume. "Who is going to stop me, eh?"

The henchman named Cottontail had opened a laptop and sat it on one of the tables. "Automatic launch sequence," he said, reading from the screen. "All systems go. Five... four... three... two... one..."

With a muffled whoosh, the rockets fired one after the other, soaring off into the night! Lying on her back, Victory had a perfect view through the glass panes in the roof of the solarium. She tried flexing her arms and legs. Although her lissome body still felt weak and lethargic, her coordination was slowly returning. Not that it did her any good, strapped to the gurney like this.

"Ha-ha-ha!" March Hare gloated, taunting her with the antidote bottle. "And there you lie, helpless, powerless! No way to stop me...some superheroine indeed!"

Victory chewed her botton lip, squirming as his grip tightened around her breast.

"Uh-oh," said Cottontail suddenly. "Missile one's way off course. Heading toward the ocean. It's going into the drink!"

"Drat it!" March Hare grumbled. "Salt water utterly destroys the chemicals!" He leaned over the captive heroine, kneading her breast. She groaned, writhing. "Well, no matter. One malfunction out of five is not a bad-"

"Missile TWO is off course now!" The henchman frantically typed at the computer keyboard. "It won't respond! It's gonna splash!"

"Now see here!" March Hare glared.

Victory let out a soft gasp as he released her breast at last. She allowed a slight smirk as he turned back to his to men.

"Missile three, missile four, both splashes! Missile five..." His eyes went wide as he looked at the screen. "It's headed back HERE!"

March Hare panicked. "Don't just sit there gawking, you fool! Abort it!"

Cottontail frantically jabbed at the keyboard. Looking through the glass panes overhead, they all saw the fiery red dot of the missile as it bore down on the clinic, until suddenly its engine exploded into a fireball in mid-air!

"YOU did this!" March Hare accused, turning furiously on Victory. "You blithering nit! Somehow you did this!"

The superheroine flashed him an infuriatingly smug smile. "I cannot tell a lie, Mr. Whiskers. I persuaded Manetti to tell me the frequency of your guidance system. Then I programmed the broadband transmitter on the Victorycycle to send out a jamming signal on that frequency at midnight."

"You waffling wastrel!"

Before Victory quite knew what was happening, March Hare had leaped onto the gurney, straddling her narrow hips. She squirmed under his weight but had nowhere to go as his hands ripped her flimsy dress right down the front, letting her breasts press naked against the fabric of her pinafore.

"Hey, wait!" Victory murmured helplessly.

His hands sought out her glorious globes, grabbing and kneading them roughly. Victory gasped in dismay as soon as he touched her nubile young body. Once again a helpless captive the poor girl was swept with a sense of defeated humiliation. Yes she had saved Capital City from his rockets, but what kind of heroine found herself at the whims and mercy of such a man?

The captive superheroine let out a soft whimper. March Hare was fondling her so roughly, as to draw her from her self-admonishment as he mashed and groped her firm C-cups. Being strapped down to the gurney, she could do no more than writhe as the villain mauled her defenseless chest.

"Stop it..." Victory moaned. "You can't do this do me!"

"Oh I intend to do a great deal more to you!"

Then March Hare reached down, his hand slithering under her short blue skirt. Groaning in revulsion, Victory rolled her hips, trying to squirm away from his gloved fingers. It was no use, his grasp closed over the nylon covered "V" between her slender thighs. Quickly he began to knead her pussy over the "eat me" panties sending another surge of unwelcome excitement coursing through her body. This time there was no doubt, March Hare's sleep gas apparently had the unfortunate side-effect of heightening her libido. And after getting dosed three times in one night, Victory was quickly overwhelmed!

Feeling his weight on top of her, it was as if a jolt of adrenalin had been pumped into her bloodstream! Contact with even his skinny body made her skin quiver with desire. Her face felt hot and flushed. Her pussy trembled with erotic energy as he moved his hands back to her chest, squashing her boobs together, his thumbs making little circles around first one rigid nipple, then the other. Without meaning to, her hips started rubbing up and down against her bondage like a cat in heat, pushing her eager young breasts into his caressing hands.

"No!" she breathed, struggling to regain control of her body. "D-d-d-don't touch me! Please don't touch...!"

His hands slid down her svelte torso, reaching underneath her lacy white petticoat and began to tug down her scanty little panties. On impulse Victory lifted her butt just slightly to help him, instantly hating herself for doing so. She felt almost delirious, groggy from the gas and forced pleasure, as March Hare pulled the "eat me" panties down her stockinged legs past her knees, exposing her shaved womanhood! The helpless heroine squirmed, tugging against her bonds futilely, dreading what was sure to come next. Then his fingers slipped between her legs to grope at her vulnerable, unprotected slit. Feeling his fingers wiggling into her moist petals, Victory moaned loudly...any hope of escape or resistance abandoning her.

"Ugh...NO!" she heard herself begging. "Please don't...don't do this to me...I'm Vic-Victoreeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Her head was swimming, muddled so badly she hadn't noticed the villain undo his trousers. She felt it though, as he began to rub the head along the smooth seam of her defenseless pussy. Victory whimpered in passive submission, realizing that there was nothing she could do to stop him. Thanks to the gas a part of her actually WANTED what would come next. The defeated heroine gave up, ceasing even her meager resistance and relaxing her legs enough to give him access.

March Hare's throbbing schlong pushed roughly through the petals of her flower forcing a sharp moan from the heroine. He quickly began to thrust, coldly, as if she were some inflatable toy. Victory arched her back to meet him, her hips pushing against his thrust, pulsing to the same urgent carnal rhythm, all the while blissfully unaware of the three henchmen standing open-mouthed, watching her get screwed. Until...




Mad As a March Hare



One of them stepped up to the gurny, unfastening his trousers. Victory didn't realize he was there or what he was doing until he had grabbed her head. Feeling his rough hands on her flushed cheeks, he turned her head to look at him...at his rock hard erection hanging before her face!

She gasped a quick protest between moans as March Hare continued to thrust. "Oh...nngh...oh gawd nooOOHHM!"

Her protest ended abruptly as Cottontail forced his rigid cock past her soft lips, into her mouth. He too began to thrust, forcing his member so deeply she gagged. Victory had no choice, bound and helpless she could do nothing but allow these men to fuck her from both ends!

March Hare leaned over her, his tool pistoning her tight cunt. He was not even as big as the Italian had been but there was no tenderness in his strokes. This was not sex, this was punishment for foiling his plan. Pain and pleasure mingled in waves as she was plowed, the villain having his way with the utterly helpless girl. 

Meanwhile the cock in her mouth thrust with no less intensity. Cottontail had a handful of her brunette tresses, holding her head in place. Victory gagged and coughed, sputtering helplessly around the thick shaft violating her mouth but soon found herself responding. She closed her soft lips around his hard-on and did her best to massage with her tongue. Closing her eyes, the once proud heroine had no choice but to lay in her bonds, allowing her body to be used by these two scumbags.

Victory was soon lost to the moment. Her head spun out of control with cocks filling her from seeming all sides, pleasure welling within that she had no control over. A sensation began to build, her body's betrayal as complete as her defeat. Humiliation burned through the heroine as her orgasm began...yes it was just the effect of the gas, yes these men had forced this upon her, but never the less...the proctectress of Capital City was now little more than a panting whore...cumming for this insane villain!

She cried out, almost choking on the cock in her mouth, as her body trembled beneath them.

Her violated pussy clenched spasmodically, tightening around March Hare's cock and pushing him over the edge! The beautiful superheroine mewled piteously, as his peter squirted a stream of hot, sticky semen. Filling her cunt and making her subdued body quiver with another orgasm. Primed as she was, her entire body trembled in an exhilarating spasm of pleasure in spite of herself.

Cottontail could hold on no longer either! He came hard, spraying a stream of sticky cum down Victory's throat! As she gagged he filled her mouth as well before pulling out to squirt a sticky wad onto her face and mask. Disgust burned through the heroine, tasting him, feeling his hot cum trickle through her lips and down her cheek. Victory turned away, as best she could given her bondage, her heart was pounding in her ears and her breath came is short gasps. She could hardly believe how electric her body felt!

Both villains, on the other hand, were spent. March Hare stumbled off of her and sank into one of the lounge chairs, exhausted by his climax. The other two henchmen took one look at the writhing, still moaning superheroine and elbowed one another aside for the privilege of being next...

"CCPD! Assume the position, scumbags!"

A gorgeous, raven-haired Latina was standing in the doorway of the solarium, holding her automatic pistol trained on the three thugs. She had on a short, sexy black dress with gold sequins clustered around the push-up bodice, supported by narrow spaghetti straps.

The three thugs were just considering their chances of jumping the beauty and overpowering her when two female uniformed police officers appeared behind her, also training sidearms on them. Under the circumstances, they capitulated. The uniformed cops pushed them against the glass and frisked them, while the woman in black rushed to the side of the panting, cum-soaked girl strapped to the hospital gurney.

"Victory?" Sasha Cortez said, taking in the mask as well as the flirty little Alice costume. She slowly shook her head as she started to undo her restraints. "How do you get yourself into these messes?"

The heroine flushed, her brain still buzzing with euphoria as the aftereffects of the gas rapidly dwindled. "Lots and lots of practice," she joked, hoping to downplay her current state. "You showed up in the nick of time."

"I was at a party. Only got your message twenty minutes ago. We were cruising the area, no idea how to find you until we saw the fireworks show. How did you arrange that if you were all tied up?"

"That's a long story. Can you help me find my uniform, please?"

Freed from the straps, Victory sat up on the gurney, wiping Cottontail's cum from her face and self-consciously holding the torn dress to her bosom. She was grateful that Sasha had brought only women with her, but still... Would this be part of a police report? She could imagine all of CCPD standing around with Xeroxed copies of the report, laughing about it. Feeling March Hare's juices beginning to seep out of her abused pussy, Victory shifted her long legs. Her cheeks flushed hotly once again with the shame of being found, being rescued, this way.

"Of course," Sasha replied quickly. "Well, however you did it...you've saved Capital City once again." Then reading the emotions on Victory's beautiful face she added, "That's all ANYONE EVER needs to know."

Epilogue

Antonio Imperatore arrived at his office at Imperial Trucking the next morning feeling a little apprehensive. He always felt nervous when The Italian "borrowed" his establishment to meet with a "client", but you couldn't say no to Enrico Manetti. He was relieved to see that nothing appeared to be out of place.

It wasn't until nearly ten o'clock that his secretary, Miss Castellani, had occasion to use the copying machine in his office. She let out an exclamation of surprise when she saw what was in the copy basket. 

"HA! Mr. Manetti was here with one of his tarts last night!"

"Hush!" Imperatore said, feeling a stab of uneasiness. "I'm sure it was..." 

His eyes went wide when he saw the loose papers... photocopy after photocopy of a woman's naked tits, splayed deliciously across the glass surface. In one or two could you see her face. Clearly the two of them had been humping like rabbits on top of the copier! A mask obscured her features, but she was very beautiful...and somewhat familiar...Something about the mask itself...

Miss Castellani grinned rakishly. "Ah, he was enjoying himself."

"That's enough!" Imperatore barked, collecting all the copies. "The less we know about Mr. Manetti's affairs the better!" 

His secretary shrugged and ran her copies.

"Is it too much to ask to get some WORK done today?" He mumbled going back to his own paperwork.

But Imperatore himself was too preoccupied to get very much done the rest of the morning. Only after Miss Castellani had gone to lunch did he dare go to the file cabinet and retrieve the tiny spy camera hidden discreetly behind the trophies. He had placed it there as insurance, should he ever need protection or leverage from the Italian. Now he grinned, thinking of the juicy X-rated footage that must be captured on it!

La Fine 

~Special thanks to everyone for reading and to my Co-author Centurion! xoxo Lady Jane~