5 comments/ 9254 views/ 12 favorites The Enigma Box By: ladyjane2099 ~Hey everyone, THANK YOU so much for choosing this story! In case you didn't know this is the third part of a series, part 1 is my story titled "Mad As A March Hare" and the second part is "Swan of a Different Color"...so if you want to see the entire story, please check those out too! Thanks again, and enjoy!~ ***** The Enigma Box Chapter One Victory, Capital City's proud, invincible superheroine, was in a tight spot. While in pursuit of the Black Swan, escaping from her raid on the Pinnacle Building in a stolen airship, the peerless purple-clad heroine had been defeated and captured. But even as the dark-haired villainess had been enjoying her triumph, her own number one henchman had sprung a coup of his own. Now the Black Swan and Victory were both helpless prisoners, disarmed and at the mercy of her former lackey (now calling himself Black Eagle) and his gang. As the two women were led single file down the narrow corridor of the airship, Victory's bare feet almost stumbled on the rubberized treads. Her head was hung in shame, tears of helpless despair welling up in her green eyes. Her long chestnut brown tresses drooped along either side of her face. Gone were her purple Lycra halter top and hot pants, gone were her silver knee boots and unbreakable bracelets, and gone was the silver powerbelt which endowed her body with super-strength and agility. The slender young heroine was completely naked except for her purple domino mask, which the villain had allowed her to keep as a constant reminder of her failure. The rest of her clothing and weapons had been left in the Swan's boudoir, where the two of them had been taken prisoner. Masculine hands gripped Victory's arms tightly, pushing her forward while holding her arms behind her, leaving her perky breasts to bob and jiggle as she walked, pink nipples exposed to view. Down below, her prim, hairless pussy and round little butt were also totally uncovered, allowing the men to ogle to their heart's content. This was so humiliating! Her nakedness left her feeling small and vulnerable, and there seemed to be nothing she could do! Behind her, a second man was in charge of the raven-haired Black Swan, slim and lovely, just as naked and just as helpless, yet she still retained somewhat more defiance in her heart. "Hall, Purvis, I won't forget this betrayal," Swan growled to her former henchmen. "You'll both suffer greatly for this when I get free!" "Nip it!" snarled the one holding her arms. "In case you hadn't noticed, you're in no position to make threats." They had come to the entry port, a large chamber fifteen feet wide and nearly forty feet long, with dull metal walls curving upward and outward from the floor to the ceiling, and structural ribs showing at regular intervals. In the middle was a big square hatchway set into the floor. Victory felt a shiver of pure fear run down her spine, raising goosebumps all across her silken skin. Were the thugs planning to just toss them out and let them fall to their deaths? But the man holding onto her arms steered her toward the utility room off to one side, where a third henchman was standing grinning beside its open door, holding two coils of rope in his hands. Victory shuddered. Bondage. To her the darkness inside the storage room may have been more frightening than the prospect of death, it represented more than just captivity . . . it was powerlessness . . . it was utter failure. The sight seemed to send the Swan into a frenzy, she began shouting. "I'll see you all in Hell for this betrayal!" With a sudden burst of energy, she wrenched free of the man holding her, spun around and clocked him with her fist. Stumbling back a step, he glared at her in anger, before backhanding the dark-haired woman viciously across the face. Her head snapped to the side, her hair whipping wildly as she fell hard against the bulkhead. Stunned by the impact, she sank to the floor groaning meekly, holding her stinging cheek. "You prick!" Victory snapped, noble instincts momentarily overriding her fear. "Why don't you try that on someone your own size!" She lunged at the other man angrily, or rather tried to. She was held fast, helpless in the strong clutches of her own captor. "You mean like you?" the thug named Hall laughed. The lissome young heroine glowered at him as he approached her. Expecting to get hit in the face, she braced herself. Instead, the man reached down in between her legs and grabbed her prim, shaven mound! "HEY!" she gasped indignantly. "Stop that!" Victory instinctively brought up her long right leg, intending to kick him in the balls, but without her powerbelt, the spunky heroine only possessed the strength of a skinny girl. He blocked her blow with ease, catching her leg. "What's this, babe?" the henchman smirked. "You think you're a superheroine or something?" He tucked her silken gam up under his arm, trapping it and pulling her legs into a wide open spread. "Hey guys, we got a superheroine here!" Dread and shame clutched at Victory, feeling herself splayed open and unable to pull her leg free. While the grinning man behind held her arms pinned, Hall leaned forward, reaching deeper into the warm, vulnerable cleft in between her creamy thighs. The green eyed girl moaned, struggling in vain to pull away as she felt the man's finger rubbing along her labia, prodding her soft spot. "Don't get the wrong idea, doll," he whispered, grinning as she squirmed at the end of his finger. "I don't like hitting women. I'd much rather . . . " Victory squealed as his finger forced her pussy lips apart and slipped inside her! The unwelcome digit felt so rough against her softest flesh. "Don't!" the heroine protested, closing her eyes, rising up on tiptoe. "Stop it!" "You don't like that?" he asked, digging his finger into the soft folds of her defenseless pussy. "No!" A wave of unwanted arousal washed over the helpless heroine, as a broad, rough thumb found her clit and began to rub. She tried to resist, tried to pull away but could do little more than writhe miserably. Trapped against the body of the henchman behind her, the girl's peach-like ass slid up and down against the front of his body, making his trouser snake sit up and take notice. Her pulse began to race against her will, she could feel his stiff erection swelling up hard against her firm little booty, as tendrils of warmth snaked up her spine. The sensation slithered into her girlish head making her mind go numb, and despite everything, Victory felt herself getting wet and horny. Her face and chest suddenly flushed white hot and she could not suppress a throaty moan, as the finger curling inside her cooch triggered a gush of wetness, a tingling flash of goosebumps rippling over her smooth, slick skin. "Nnugh . . . oh gawd . . ." she groaned, her long, alluring legs beginning to tremble. "That's right," Hall grunted into her ear. "Cum for daddy!" The captive heroine desperately struggled against the building climax, cheeks burning from the shame of being handled this way, but she couldn't help herself. Hall tightened his grip, driving a little deeper, thumb rubbing a bit more insistently. Victory's ruby lips gaped open, gasping as the henchman manipulated her unwanted arousal. Soon the sensations were too much for the helpless woman, she cried out, her trim young body shaking as the man forced her to orgasm! "AAAAAAHHH!" Black Swan watched glumly as the humiliated heroine squealed in defeat. "Good girl," the henchman said. Victory squirmed as he pulled his hand out of her dripping snatch and released her leg. She pulled her legs tightly together, and let her still spinning head droop in shame. The other two henchmen, the one holding her still and the one guarding the entrance to the storage room, licked their lips, grinning like maniacs. "What are you gawking at?" Hall snapped. "Let's get them tied up." He grabbed Swan by her raven locks, pulling her away from the wall and shoving her face down on the floor. Victory was also forced into a prone position, a heavy knee planting itself in the middle of her back. Clearly outmatched physically and with their spirits subdued, the two cowed women offered no more resistance as they were held down and bound. Victory groaned as her arms were pulled behind her back, and her skinny wrists tied tightly together. Next the coarse ropes were wound up along her forearms, lashing them together before encircling her elbows. This positioning pulled her slim torso into an uncomfortable arch, straining her shoulders backwards. Next she was rolled onto her back, and her knees were bound together, the ropes biting into her soft skin as they were cinched tight. The man called Purvis grinned down at her, and Victory looked away, unable to meet his gaze for the time being. After staring at her naked breasts for a long moment, he continued downward to bind her ankles, crossing them over each other and wrapping the ropes in a sort of figure 8 configuration. Glancing over at the Black Swan, Victory saw she was bound in almost the exact same way. The two women shared a miserable expression. Suddenly, Victory was hauled to her feet. The gallant girl yelped painfully as a hand slapped her naked ass with enough force to send her tumbling into the utility closet. Cheeks flushing crimson (both pairs), she fell into the dark room ungracefully, grunting in pain as she fell to the floor. She rolled over, turning back to face her captors. They were still laughing as they shoved Black Swan in as well. The door slammed shut before Victory could even think to react. Feeling small and helpless in the sudden darkness, the naked heroine curled into a fetal position fighting back tears. Chapter Two Victory's despair did not last for long. Squirming in her bonds the chestnut-haired heroine, was quickly able to roll up onto her knees. Unfortunately, she realized this did not put her in much better of a situation as she began testing the strength of her restraints. Her wrists and elbows were securely lashed together, with rope coiling along the length of her forearms. Bound at the knees, her legs were also mostly immobilized, and the cross binding of her ankles eliminated even her ability to stand steadily. If only she had her super strength she could have snapped these ropes, but as it was they were more than capable of holding the powerless young woman. Still she had to find some way to get free! As she twisted and yanked, trying to loosen her bonds, the motion caused her plump C-cups to bounce and sway, a vivid reminder of her nakedness. "V-victory?" the Swan whimpered in the darkness. "Are you there? Where are you?" Hearing the panic in the Swan's voice, Victory looked up. It wasn't exactly pitch dark in here. Enough light came through the crack of the door to see dimly. Victory could make out the ebon-haired villainess' shapely form, sitting trussed up the same as hers. She could even feel the heat of her body. "It's a closet," she replied curtly. "I'm right here." The Swan seemed to struggle to get hold of herself. The next instant her smooth curves were rubbing up against Victory's sleek body, shivering. "Sorry. I've g-g-got a thing about enclosed spaces. The nuns used to . . . well, never mind. Turn around so we can untie one another." "Why would I trust you?" the heroine snorted, trying not to notice the firm roundness of the Swan's two B-cups rubbing against her own plump breasts. "Two captive women on an airship surrounded by a bunch of less-than-scrupulous men?" Swan replied. "Honey, what choice do you have?" Victory swallowed a groan. She was right. The two turned back to back and began fiddling with each other's bonds. Swan's bindings were just as complex as Victory's. The knots were cinched tight, and the ropes were crossed and doubled over making them impossible to keep track of by feel. It took much longer than either had hoped and soon the frustrated girls were slick with perspiration, their naked bodies glistening in the meager light seeping through the bottom of the door. Their wrists were raw from the tight roping, their shoulders ached from the angle of the binding and both girls grew more and more flustered as they were totally unable to figure out the men's handiwork. Eventually they sank to the floor, leaning against each other's backs in defeat. "I can't believe we can't get loose," the Swan lamented. "This is so humiliating!" Victory was looking around the utility closet. It was about four feet by six, three walls straight up and down, the fourth curving upward slightly to conform to the cylindrical shape of the airship's hull. Along the two perpendicular walls were hung shelving units, and there was something . . . maybe a tool box on the shelf above them. But with her arms and ankles tied, how was she ever going to reach it? "Brace your legs against the wall on your side," she told the Swan. As the other girl complied, Victory pushed against her naked back. Thanks to the slickness of their flesh, she easily thrust herself into an upright position. She had little stability and almost no balance due to her binding, yet from there she was able to use her shoulder to nudge the tool box off the shelf. It landed with a bang, its lid flying open and Victory dropped to her knees beside it. "Wake the dead why don't you?" said the Swan, her heart leaping in her mouth. "I'm trying to get us out of here," Victory replied shortly. Turning around, she dug blindly through the open tool chest until she found what felt to be a hacksaw. Feeling almost faint from the stale air in the closet, she quickly sawed through her bonds. It was an enormous relief as her lissome body relaxed into its normal posture. The heroine let out an audible sigh of relief. "Ma cheri! You did it!" Black Swan gasped excitedly. "Now do me!" "Sssshhhh!" Victory hissed. "Just be quiet!" But she turned around and begrudgingly cut the villainess free. She was caught totally off guard as Swan threw her arms around her neck. "Ma cheri, I'm so grateful I could kiss you . . . " Which she did, velvety tongue parting Victory's soft lips, wriggling into her unsuspecting mouth. "Mmmm . . . no, wait . . ." Victory pushed away but the insistent woman pulled her closer, snaking one arm around her slim waist, while her free hand reached up, entwining its fingers in the thick brunette tresses. Feeling the villainess's firm breasts pressing into her own yielding C-cups, Victory tumbled into the moment, returning the kiss submissively as if she couldn't resist. What was she doing? She wasn't even attracted to women . . . was she? Victory pulled away again. "Wait . . . We need to esca-OH!" The heroine yelped in surprise as Swan shoved her backward against the very door of the utility room. The raven haired woman was much stronger than her curvaceous figure belied. The villainess pinned Victory's wrists to the door, leaning forward once more and kissing Victory even more deeply. Already feeling powerless and frightened because of the utter hopelessness of their situation, Victory was surprised at how easily she fell victim to the villainess's lust. Their tongues entwined, their saliva mingling sweetly in her mouth, and the candied scents of lingering perfumes, all set her head spinning. She felt almost intoxicated. Sinking against the door, her fears momentarily forgotten, the chestnut-haired girl opened her mouth wide and thrust her own tongue against Swan's. Sensing her submission, the villainess released her wrists and grabbed the heroine's boobs. The other woman's dainty hands made Victory's plump C-cups feel huge as she began to squeeze and fondle. So different from the masculine groping she was used to, the Swan almost massaged the big soft bulbs of flesh, and the touch sent tingles dancing all across Victory's body. The heroine's pulse quickened, and her rosy nipples hardened so suddenly and so forcefully she thought they might shoot off! Instantly Swan grabbed the little pink bullets, twisting them gently...but firmly. Victory moaned into the other woman's mouth, squirming against the door as her pussy gushed warmly and began to tingle. What's happening? I don't think I've ever been this turned on, Victory thought. Pulling away once again, she began to stammer. "What are . . . how are you . . .?" "Oh honey, you sweet innocent thing," Swan purred. "I'm a woman." The villainess smiled mischievously, locking Victory's green eyes with her own as she reached in between her legs. The heroine gasped, grabbing her wrist trying weakly to hold the more experienced woman at bay. "Wait . . . " "No." Swan leaned forward, kissing the girl once again as insistent fingers wiggled into the soaking folds of the heroine's soft labia. Victory found herself spreading her legs, allowing full access to her dripping womanhood. The villaness quickly located her clit and began to play with it, rubbing, pulling, squeezing, and the girl could feel it swelling, growing red hot as every touch seemed to send a waves of sensual energy crashing through her sylph-like body. All the while the woman continued to fondle and squeeze her breasts. Victory gasped sharply as two fingers suddenly penetrated her submissive pussy. The Swan let out a soft moan of ecstasy obviously pleased by the heroine's reaction but unwilling to break the kiss. Victory's face and chest flushed hotly as the fingers inside her slid back and returned to her swollen clit. Overwhelmed by arousal and lust, Victory found herself reaching hesitantly between the villainess's own shapely legs, caressing her silken inner thighs. She found the Swan's muff soaking wet, almost twitching in eagerness as she touched it. Innocent and unsure, Victory played with the soft, wet skin tentatively. The Swan began to moan with pleasure, and involuntarily Victory echoed her. The woman purred encouragingly, and rolled her shapely hips against the girl's tentative hand. The heroine had never touched a woman before but there was something very satisfying, even exciting in hearing her reaction. Inexperienced and suddenly over eager, Victory found Swan's hole and slipped her fingers inside the other woman! Thrusting and wiggling her fingers, Victory felt clumsy and naïve but eager. Now both women were moaning and breathing heavily into each other's mouths. Swan's elegant fingers continued to manipulate the heroine's clit, moving from time to time to penetrate her tight little cunt. Their breasts were rubbing and pressing together with each gasped breath. Their hips were rolling and trembling, as each woman worked furiously to make the other cum first! Innocent Victory lost the race, gasping and squealing into Swan's mouth as orgasmic energy rushed through her body. Her young pussy drenched the Swan's hand, gushing hot juices down her tensed thighs and even dripping onto the floor. Feeling Victory's body surrender, the Swan came as well. She bit off any noise, and stumbled back shuddering as the orgasm wracked her curvaceous body. "I can't believe you did that to me," Victory whimpered, sinking to a seated position on the floor. She was not sure she had ever cum like that before, and certainly not just from being fingered. Breathing heavily and wrapping her skinny arms tightly around her trembling body, she kept that part to herself. "Apologies," Swan said insincerely. "But I needed to clear my head, if we're going to take back my ship." "If that's the plan," Victory sniffed. "Shouldn't we be finding a way out of here, instead of playing sorority sisters!" "Mm, you simply must tell me about your college years some time," the other woman joked. "But never fear, ma cheri, I know how we will escape!" The villainess pointed upward, and in the dim light Victory could barely make out a vent. The Enigma Box "This leads to an inspection shaft that runs the length of the ship just under the helium bags," Swan explained. "We can follow it all the way up to my Nest, where hopefully they've just left your belt and bracelets for the time being . . . I may have figured out your little secrets, but I never shared the source of your powers with my henchmen." Victory couldn't help smiling in spite of herself. In short order the two women, naked except for masks, had wiggled through the vent and into the horizontal shaft. It was a long, hot crawl, with her naked boobs hanging and swaying between her arms. This served as a constant reminder of her nakedness, which filled her with an exquisite sense of chagrin. Victory was stuck behind the Swan, following her invitingly bobbing tail and desperately struggling to avoid the tantalizingly erotic thoughts that the movement stirred within her until, eventually, they arrived at her boudoir. Together they managed to force open that vent as well and lower each other into the room. Everything seemed to be just where it had been left, minus the Swan's wing harness and gauntlets. "Curses," the raven haired villainess spat. "He's taken my power items!" Victory swallowed a squeal of delight, "But not mine!" "First thing's first," Black Swan said, rummaging out a couple of towels and diving into the tiny shower stall to wash off the dust, grime, perspiration and assorted juices which had accumulated on her body. Victory struggled not to look as she waited for her turn, but she couldn't help herself. Her green eyes kept wandering over to admire the way the rushing water ran in rivulets over, under, and around the dark-haired girl's alluring feminine curves. "Much better!" the Swan announced, climbing out of the shower and beginning to towel herself off. As Victory squeezed past her in close quarters, the opportunity was just too sweet to resist . . . "HEY! Stop doing that!" Victory squeaked, as a soft female hand slipped slyly in between her butt cheeks and copped a feel. "I'm so sorry, ma cheri," the other girl giggled. "You're too irresistible for your own good." As Victory showered, Swan turned serious. "Hurry up in there. While we diddle around, that clown who calls himself Black Eagle probably has his filthy hands on MY Enigma Box!" Inside the shower, Victory had to bite her lip to resist making the obvious comeback. "I overheard you talking about that with the Centurion. What IS an Enigma Box?" "Oooh, it's delicious!" the Swan said, looking through her armoire for fresh clothing. "It's an ancient treasure chest. It opens like a puzzle box, but it's so complex it has about fifty million combinations. It took me days to work out an algorithm; it burns me to think of that jerk taking advantage of all my hard work!" Victory turned off the shower and stepped out. "But what's inside it?" "Honey, you know I can't tell you that. There IS such a thing as the Supervillain Code! Anyway, once our little truce is over and I get my wings back, I'll have to fight you for it. There's no point in telling you what you're fighting for. Rest assured, it's incredibly valuable." Victory toweled herself off as the thought struck her: I bet SHE doesn't know what's inside, either! Elsewhere in the airship, the Black Eagle was sitting in a leather chair, struggling to get comfortable. The damn wing harness kept getting in his way no matter which way he tried to sit. He had loosened the straps as much as he could, but there was no getting around the fact that it had been designed for a woman's anatomy. The gauntlets were a little better. They had been originally designed by a man, but Swan had modified the metallic mesh to more closely snug to her hands. It was just a matter of loosening them again. But the Eagle wasn't used to having his strength enhanced by a factor of five. After accidentally crushing three coffee cups in a row, he had impatiently taken the stupid things off. How had the Swan made wearing this get-up look so fricking easy? On the computer screen nearby, he could see images whizzing by as it ran rapidly through thousands of variables. Suddenly it stopped and let out a beep. "Solution found!" flashed in vivid red letters. Grinning, Eagle picked up the black nylon carrying case and took out the Enigma Box. It was a beautiful thing-not that he cared-a cylinder about a foot long and six inches in diameter, made of some dark metal with bronze highlights. Along its length were ten sections that could be turned, incised with hundreds of seemingly random lines and geometric figures. Using the combination that the Swan's computer had deciphered, he twisted the dials. The box let out a quiet click! "I owe you one, boss," he said as he opened the lid, his grin turning into a look of awe at the strange, silvery glow that came from inside. He reached in . . . Chapter Three In the Swan's Nest, Victory had pulled her powerbelt out from under the plush bed and quickly buckled it around her waist. Instantly she felt the power of the item flooding through her lissome limbs once again! In the same vicinity she found her discarded halter top, refastening it around her neck and tucking her perky breasts back into it with some relief. Then she found her silver high heeled boots, and put them on. And finally her panties, pulling the plain white thong up her long legs gratefully. It felt indescribably wonderful to be covered again! The Black Swan had gotten dressed as well, once again wearing her trademark black bustier, miniskirt and ankle boots. "Here you go," she said, tossing Victory another accessory; her pair of gleaming silver bracelets! The heroine slipped the indestructible bracelets onto her wrists and felt whole once more. "Thank you!" "Great," the villainess beamed. "So are you really going out in public like that?" She pointed down at Victory's lower body. The heroine glanced down past her midriff, only then truly realizing she was wearing nothing but her plain white thong, that skimpy strip of nylon leaving little to the imagination. Victory blushed. "Um . . . well, I sort of, uh, lost my shorts . . . um, well down an elevator shaft." "I might have something," Black Swan snickered. Rifling through her armoire, she selected a skimpy little garment and tossed it to Victory. Holding it out the heroine realized it was a miniskirt, not exactly ideal crime fighting attire. However it was barely a shade off from matching her halter top exactly and it would at least spare her the humiliation of going into battle wearing nothing but her panties. "Erm, thanks," Victory murmured putting on the skirt. It was extremely short, covering only her hips and booty while leaving her long, shapely legs fully displayed. Black Swan was smiling at her gorgeous gams hungrily. "Oooh, tres chic!" "Don't get any ideas!" the heroine blushed, remembering how Swan had seduced her in the utility closet. Right at that moment, the deep, steady drone of the airship's engines, which had been so pervasive you almost didn't notice them anymore, suddenly changed pitch, falling off to a light murmur. The Swan raced to the big windows looking out the nose of the ship. "Oh drat! I was afraid of this!" "What's going on?" Victory asked, joining her. Out the windows, she could see nothing but ocean to the far horizon. Directly below them was an island. "We've arrived at the rendezvous already!" Swan said, moving toward the door. "Come on! We've got to stop him!" "Wait a second," the heroine replied. "You'd better let me deal with this. If he has your gauntlets and wings, he'll be dangerous." "I have no intentions of sitting this one out, honey," Swan snarled. "Anyway, he won't be nearly as expert with them as I am. You'll have no trouble handling him." "Let's get moving, then," Victory said, rolling her eyes. She didn't exactly like it, but what could she do, leave the Swan tied up in her own boudoir? The raven haired villainess had already slipped out the door. As Victory followed cautiously, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror beside the vanity. She had to admit the miniskirt wasn't a bad look, perhaps with some more modest underwear . . . The heroine shook her head, appalled at herself. She needed to focus on the matter at hand . . . making changes to her uniform could be considered once this nest of villains had been brought to justice! Once out in the corridor, the Swan jogged to the left and gracefully slipped down a steep, narrow staircase. Near the bottom, the dark-haired villainess turned and placed a finger to her lips: Shhhh! Silent as a cat, she disappeared into the room below. There was a gasp, a thud, a brief gagging sound. "All clear," Swan whispered. Victory followed into what was apparently the pilot room, with windows looking forward, control panels, and a big steering wheel. The pilot was unconscious in the seat with a length of black cord wrapped around his throat. "You didn't . . . kill him, did you?" Victory said, feeling a little worried. "Not yet," the Swan said absently, darting into the chart room. "I KNEW it! The Enigma Box is gone! Come on!" She led the way back up the stairs and down the narrow corridor through the center of the airship. They met no one until they came back to the entry port, a two-story room fifteen feet wide and nearly forty long. The bulkheads were crammed with machinery and equipment lockers. In about the center was a big square hatchway set into the floor, with a winch mechanism hanging above it. The hatch was open. The four remaining henchmen were standing around the hatchway guarding it, all of them carrying automatic weapons. The Swan took one look and said, "They're all yours, ma cheri." Victory grinned. The chestnut-maned heroine stepped forward brazenly, hips swaying, high heels clicking seductively as she strutted across the room. "Hello, boys! What's shaking?" The guards looked up in surprise. "But you . . . " one of them said, glancing toward the utility closet where she was supposed to be tied up and helpless. " How did you . . .?" "Figure it out later, chump!" yelled one of the others, lifting his rifle. Victory leaped, her enhanced speed seeming to throw everything into slow motion. He was able to get off one shot that glanced off one of her invincible bracelets, and then the heroine snatched away his weapon with ease and slugged him across the jaw! With her super strength behind it, the punch snapped his head to the side violently and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Without so much as a pause, she was in the midst of the other three like a beautiful human whirlwind, punches and kicks flying in all directions, her brief little miniskirt swirling, flashing tantalizing glimpses of her tiny white thong. Two of the men were sent sprawling, clutching at their balls. The fourth man unexpectedly jumped her from behind, his rough hands reaching out, grabbing her bare midriff and moving upward swiftly. The young heroine sucked in a sharp breath, too late realizing his intent. "Hey! No!" she gasped as he grabbed her breasts! Yanking upward on her clingy Lycra top, he exposed her wonderful globes in one quick motion, pulling the garment up and entangling her arms above her head. All the heroine could do was wince in embarrassment as her plump, round boobs bounced on display, their rosy nipples stiffening on the tips like little top hats. The henchman wasted no time grabbing her now vulnerable breasts, his hands squeezing her soft, fleshy mounds, thumbs rubbing across her sensitive nipples. In spite of herself, Victory closed her eyes, letting out a soft moan as an unwanted surge of pleasure rippled over her tight young body, overwhelming her with a feeling of weakness and submissiveness. "You like this don't you, slut?" the thug murmured into her ear, pitching her bare nipples hard, making her hiss between her exquisite pearly teeth. "Why don't you get down? All the way down . . . on your knees." "N-no . . . " Victory protested, feeling his hard body, his hard manhood pressed against her from behind. "You can't . . . " "On your knees, I said!" he repeated, his rough hands kneading her two succulent melons, wringing another moan of desire from her. Victory desperately tried to think of what to do. She still had her power belt, making her five times as strong as he was, but with her arms bound together like this above her head, she was pretty much. . .And at that moment, there was a WHOMP! sound as the Swan clocked her captor on the side of the head with a rifle butt. He sagged to floor, releasing her. "Th-thanks . . . " Victory sighed, awkwardly tugging her top back down. "Where is that traitor?" the Swan demanded, grabbing the semi-conscious thug by the collar and jamming a pistol against his neck. "Y-you mean the Eagle?" the henchman stammered, pointing to the open hatchway. "He-he's already gone!" Chapter Four The island below the airship was technically an atoll, the cone of a dormant volcano frowning over a crystal blue lagoon, the whole thing covered with thick, green vegetation. There was only one building, a rather cozy split-level house constructed on a prominent hillside by some long-forgotten millionaire. The ownership of the island itself had passed through many hands since then, because certain people often found it useful to have a sanctuary conveniently located far outside of United States jurisdiction. Victory and the Swan quickly stowed the henchmen in the utility room for safekeeping and lowered two rappelling lines down the airship hatchway. Once they were safely on the roof, they took stock. "Do you know the layout of this place?" Victory asked. "Sorry," the Swan replied. "I've heard about it. It's sometimes used for high-profile underworld auctions. But I've never been here before." "Okay, I can see two separate skylights," Victory said. "They're the obvious means of entrance. We'd cover ground faster if we split up. If you found him before I did, do you think you could keep him busy until I got there?" The Swan grinned, cocking her autopistol and tucking it into her belt. "If I find him first, pray that there's something LEFT of him when you get there!" With that, the ebon-clad villainess dove into the nearer of the skylights. Victory jogged across the roof. The other skylight was already open. She peered down, but the room below her was too dim in contrast with the bright outdoors sunlight to make out much of what was inside. Well . . . no sense in being bashful. If she was lucky, she'd take the henchman by surprise. Slipping her pert little booty over the coaming, the stunning superheroine dropped through into the room and landed squarely in her high heeled boots. It proved to be a large chamber, like a theater. Victory was standing on the stage, a good sixty feet by fifty. Along three sides were hung blood red velvet curtains. On the fourth side was the empty auditorium with seats for about a hundred, paneled with dark wood. She could make out row upon row of empty seats . . . or were they empty? It seemed that there was something . . . "Well, well, well!" spoke a masculine voice behind her. "I was just about to send up to the ship for you, and here you deliver yourself, right on time! That's what I call service!" Victory whirled around. "Black Eagle!" she said, as spotlights came on, illuminating the whole stage. The former henchman stood on the far side of the stage. He had taken off the Swan's gauntlets and wing harness and thrown them on the floor, next to a small table upon which sat a cylindrical object . . . from the villainess' description, it could only be the Enigma Box! "I don't know how you got yourself untied, honeybunch," he said, grinning, his eyes roaming up and down her svelte, Lycra-clad body, lingering a moment on the miniskirt. "But that's just fine. It's gonna make it that much sweeter to have a little demonstration before the bidding!" "There's not going to be any bidding, loser," Victory smirked, planting her long legs and cocking her hips smugly. "Why don't you surrender and save yourself some humiliation? You're not a real super-villain. Without the Swan's weapons, you're nothing but a common, dime-a-dozen, cheap-ass thug. You don't stand a chance against me!" "Wanna bet?" With his left hand, he casually flipped open the lid of the Enigma Box. A silvery glow poured out like glitter. Before she could move, the thug had reached inside and pulled out a large oblong stone of some kind, gunmetal gray in color. In the next instant, the stone seemed to melt, and began to pour up the man's arm. It continued spreading until his entire body took on the same gunmetal gray hue and texture. He looked like he was made of living metal! "Come on, then," he laughed. "Let's play, super-bitch!" All too eager to put this poser in his place, Victory lunged forward, throwing a super-powered right punch straight at his face that should have thrown him through the wall. But to her horror, he caught her fist effortlessly with his left hand! Behind her purple mask, the heroine's lovely green eyes went wide with shock, feeling the overwhelming strength of his steel-hard grip. In her moment of surprise, Black Eagle retaliated, his own right fist hit Victory's stomach like a battering ram, blasting all the air from her lungs! The girl doubled over, gasping desperately for breath. Before she could even begin to recover, she was clipped by an uppercut across the chest that launched her bodily across the stage. He's much stronger like this, she thought to herself in alarm. Much stronger than I am, in fact! "Was that real enough for you?" Eagle asked, standing back calmly. "You think one lucky punch makes you a supervillain?" Victory groaned, rolling to her silken knees. Black Eagle surged forward, roaring. This time the spunky superheroine used her enhanced reflexes and agility to avoid the attack. Cartwheeling right over his head, she caught him with a punch, and followed through with a kick in the ribs. His skin felt as hard as osmium steel, but the impact was enough to send him stumbling backwards. She smiled grimly. He may be stronger, but he was clumsy . . . Victory pressed her attack, throwing two more lightning-quick punches that hurt her own fists as much as she did him. Quick as a viper his right hand snapped forward closing powerfully around her swan-like neck. The heroine grabbed at his wrist but was unable to pull it loose. "Bonafide superheroine," he growled, pressing forward. "I thought you'd be stronger." Victory found herself shoved backwards against the wall and pinned there. Frantically she squirmed in his grip, held by the weight of his hard body, but could not get loose. While she was trapped, his free hand reached down, slipping under her skirt and grabbing her prim mound. "No! Get your hand out of there!" Victory squealed, dropping one hand to try and push him away. "So tell me, just out of curiosity," he growled, squeezing her throat. "What would make me a real supervillain? Overpowering a superheroine?" His hand began to rub her soft spot. "Feeling her up? Having my way with her?" "Nnnnngh-no," Victory whimpered. His touch sent a burst of tingles spreading across her narrow hips. "Get off!" She shoved desperately and managed to push him away. She quickly followed up with a high roundhouse kick! But flustered as she was by his unwelcome touch, it did not come as quickly as she intended. Black Eagle snagged her exquisite ankle, and before she could react he drove his fist right into her pussy! Victory cried out as pain ripped through her! She pulled her leg back, clutching her soft spot, her entire body trembling from the pain. Stunned, the gallant, green-eyed girl could offer no resistance as he plucked off her indestructible bracelets. The Enigma Box "Oh no," she whined as the weapons were taken from her. As he half turned to toss them across the room, the heroine tried another super-powered punch, which only glanced off his thick metal hide. As she stumbled forward, he gave her a sharp swat on the ass. Overbalanced, she fell, sprawling across the stage. Victory felt her short little miniskirt ride up, flashing her peach-like ass, which was promptly spanked once more. "Hey!" the heroine yelped, tugging her skirt down. "Stop doing that!" "Still think I'm just some common thug?" Black Eagle gloated, crossing his arms smugly. "As common as they come!" Victory blustered. Curling her gorgeous legs beneath her body, the heroine launched herself at the villain. She hit him like a torpedo with both fists, knocking the Eagle onto his back by the force. As she landed on top astride him, the two began grappling for position. Her opponent simply reached up and grabbed her wrists. In the next instant, the struggling heroine found herself wrestled to the floor and pinned, her arms spread above her head, helpless. Even with her power belt, she couldn't seem to make the slightest bit of headway. "NO! You can't . . . " she gasped in surprise and frustration. The powerful heroine could do little more than squirm impotently underneath him. "Are you ready to give up now, little girl?" Black Eagle laughed, clasping both of her wrists with his left hand. "Never!" Victory cried out, bucking and thrashing like a wildcat. "Wait . . . what are you doing?" Ignoring her completely, Black Eagle reached down with his right hand, grabbing the front of her halter top, he ripped it off! The skin tight Lycra offered zero resistance, tearing away and exposing both her plump C-cups! "NO!" Victory cried, squirming with indignation. The helpless girl struggled, her cheeks flushing hotly as she felt her naked breasts jiggling, fully on display. "Oh mama," the villain smirked. "I'll give you this, heroine. You are one sexy piece of tail!" He got to his feet, pulling Victory up at the same time. The heroine tried to pull away, but he only released one of her arms. Then before she could begin to fight back, his slapped her hard across the jaw with his steel-hard hand. Victory cried out and fell across the stage, stunned by the blow. As Victory lay sprawled face down, only half-conscious, she felt his hard hands reached down and unbuckle her power belt. "No . . . please," the dazed heroine could only moan. "Not . . . not my belt . . . " If Black Eagle understood what he was doing, he showed no indication. He pulled both slender arms behind her, looped her invincible power belt around her wrists and buckled it tightly, binding her arms behind her back! "Wh-what are you . . . unnnn?" Victory groaned. Powerless now, defeated, completely at the thug's mercy, she almost didn't want to know what was going to happen to her next. Her heart was thumping, her poor, abused body felt hot and slippery all over. The fondling she had been subjected to was making her boobs feel tender, her pussy moist with arousal . . . She let out a groan of dismay as she felt her assailant's impertinent hands feeling up her peach-like ass under her miniskirt. Sometimes the worst disadvantage to being a superheroine was simply being a woman . . . "Oh that is one fine piece of cooz-meat you got there," he commented, slapping her shapely tail. "Mind if I have myself a taste?" "No!" Victory squealed, struggling desperately as he pushed up her miniskirt and pulled her panties down. "PLEASE DON'T!" The Black Eagle peeled the plain white thong down her shapely silken legs, leaving it looped around her skinny knees. As he spread her thighs wide, stretching the flimsy nylon of her panties almost to the breaking point, Victory could feel his fingers run along her shaven slit, sending shivers up and down her spine, her body quivering with anticipation. He played with her helpless cooch for a moment, making her tremble in shame and fear. Then he spread her pussy lips and rubbed his thumb over her clit. The heroine moaned sharply, arms straining against her binding. But it was her own power belt and there was not a chance of breaking it. "Stop it! Ok, ok, you're a real supervillain," Victory blurted, her head spinning with fear and helplessness. "Please don't do this . . . " Black Eagle paused. "Are you begging me?" "Yes," she mewled piteously. "YES! I give! Y-you're too powerful!" "Damn straight I am!" the villain hooted. "Guess that makes you just a common slut . . . and you know what happens to sluts, right?" "Oh gawd," she sobbed fearfully. "Please . . . " "That's right," he said unzipping his pants. "They get nailed!" The prone heroine was completely defenseless as Black Eagle yanked her panties over her ankles. His cool, rigid hands closed on her narrow hips, pulling her lithe body to him. She trembled helplessly as he forced his cock into her tight little pussy from behind. She writhed, moaning in despair as her body was violated. His thick rigid tool slid out and back in as he began to fuck her like an animal. Again it slid back and then thrust hard and deep, taking her breath away. Unable to hold them back any longer, Victory felt hot tears of feminine helplessness begin to run down her high-boned cheeks. "Ngh . . . please . . . ugh . . . s-stop," the heroine begged. Black Eagle only chortled deep in his throat, and tightened his grip on her hips. He began to fuck her harder, faster, his steel-hard cock becoming a sliding piston, plunging deeper with every thrust. Her slender frame shook, and Victory groaned loudly as his cock stretched her defenseless pussy. Sensual energy rolled up her spine making her entire body shiver as her tender cooz gushed warmly around his invading member. Feeling him inside her body, swelling, thrusting, the young heroine tried to hold back a moan as utter humiliation washed through her. " . . . nnnoo . . . uhn . . . you . . . uuhh . . . can't . . . uuhh . . . do this . . . nuhhh . . . to me . . . oohh . . . " "Shit yeah," he groaned, feeling her slickness. "You little slut!" He gave her two more sharp thrusts, then paused. With his metal cock still inside her, she felt his hand coil into her thick brown locks and yank roughly. Victory cried out in pain. Tugging her by the hair, Black Eagle pulled her up from the floor, stretching the bound heroine into an uncomfortable arched position, spreading one of her silken legs out to maximize his penetration. Now every thrust rocked her body. The grip on her hair created a tension that ran through her slender frame and every thrust seemed to reverberate through her entire being, pumping, dominating her, forcing her closer and closer to orgasm. "Ooohhh oh . . . ah ahh aahh aahhh AH AH AH AHAHAAHH!!" "That's right you little slut!" Black Eagle said leaning close to her ear. "Scream for me, scream like a little whore!" Victory tried to resist, tried to hold back the building sensation. The piston violating her soft warm cunt would not be denied. A wave of orgasmic energy broke over her, and the desecrated heroine screamed for him. Helpless against the erotic sensations she orgasmed on his cock, quivering and crying out. Feeling her utter submission, Black Eagle came as well. Victory whimpered as she felt him gush inside her, filling her with white hot cum, pumping her so full of his seed she thought she could taste it! The sensation made her cum again, flushing so hotly she thought she would faint. Behind her, Black Eagle groaned and released her hair. The ravaged heroine sagged forward, utterly exhausted, her sensitive breasts slapping the floor of the stage painfully. She trembled, feeling every inch of rigid metal cock as it slid out of her. She could feel his gizm leaking out of her overfilled pussy, mixing with her own juices as they dripped down her thighs in a warm, sticky mess. Black Eagle stood up, buckling his pants up. "All right, then!" he announced. "Who's gonna start the bidding?" Victory looked up dully. Who the hell was he talking to? They were all alone in here, weren't they? The house lights over the auditorium went up just a little. Seats in the first two rows were occupied by cameras on tripods, perhaps twelve or fifteen all told. Attached to each one was a small flatscreen television, showing the head and shoulders of a man. Victory recognized P. T. "Mace" MacKenna, "Iron-man" Blackwood, "Wild Raven" Rowan, Milton Esterhazy St. John . . . some of the most notorious crime bosses in the world! There wasn't one of them whose schemes she hadn't foiled at one time or another! And they had clearly been WATCHING the whole time! Chapter Five An odd-looking flying machine resembling an oversized Roman chariot came skimming just over the beach on nearly silent hoverfans. The four henchmen clad in white tunics, hanging onto the railings and feeling a little airsick, didn't dare speak as their commander - a tall, muscular man in full Roman regalia including breastplate, plumed helmet and sword - brought the machine in for a landing on the deck in front of the split-level building. The Centurion was not in a good mood. He had joined Black Swan's and March Hare's little cabal in the first place because the challenge of acquiring and auctioning off the contents of two Enigma Boxes had sounded intriguing. But March Hare had gotten the first one simply by trading the Dagger of Karnak for it-hardly a sporting proposition. And then it had transpired that the boxes couldn't be opened without a certain code, which Black Swan refused to divulge. It irked him to be dependent upon any woman, but especially the Swan. He knew the flight capabilities of her airship as well as she did, but she had let him know that she was taking her sweet time getting to the rendezvous, knowing that the auction couldn't proceed without her. And now, upon his arrival, he found her airship already there, hovering over the island! Did the woman take him for a fool? If so, he would be happy to disabuse her of that notion! The soldier of fortune glanced at the Enigma Box in his possession, pretty useless to him since he didn't know how to open it, and left it lying in the chariot as he vaulted over the rail. "Remain with the vehicle," he snapped to his henchmen as he straightened his weapons belt and sword, marched to the front door, and went inside using his electronic passkey. Briskly he strode across the broad foyer and up the stairs toward the auditorium. In the dimness at the top of the stairs, someone suddenly reached out to grab him from a hidden alcove. The Centurion sprang like a panther, grabbing his attacker and spinning him around flat against the wall. In that split second, he noted from the light weight of her body that his attacker was a woman, and by the time he had pinned her wrists behind her with his right arm, his left hand caressing her soft, svelte, feminine curves, he had even recognized who it was by the feel of her scanty costume. "The Swan," he said with a smile, glancing down at her slender bare neck and shoulders while his strong fingers gave her right breast a squeeze through the clingy black fabric of her bustier. "How interesting to meet you here so early. You claimed your ship would take hours to arrive." "Let go of me," the raven-haired villainess protested, struggling. His smugness, infuriating as it was, was justified. She was helpless in his grasp and they both knew it. Her slight body was trapped against the wall by his superior masculine strength, her slender arms pinned behind her. Her brief miniskirt rode up a little bit, showing off a great deal of her creamy thighs and a glimpse of her panties. If she had still possessed her gauntlets or her wings, she might have been able to break free, but without them she had no more chance than a lamb in the jaws of a lion. There was the autopistol tucked into her belt, but they both knew she'd never reach it. She struggled a little longer, her silken body rubbing suggestively against his, but only for the look of the thing, and because it never hurt to massage a man's ego. "Please," she begged, lowering her eyes. "It . . . it really pains me to have to say this, Malcolm . . . but I need your help." "You need my help?" he repeated, impressed that she would stoop so low to remind him that they had once been lovers. "You thought you could sell the Enigma Box without me, and now you need by help? That's very funny, Trista." "It's not like that, Mal!" she whimpered, meeting his eyes. "You know I would never stab you in the back like that!" The girl hesitated, then swallowed her pride. "If you must know, my number one henchman turned against me. He took away my wings, my airship, my Enigma Box . . . everything! I'm completely powerless!" "A henchman did all that?" the Centurion sneered, letting her go and stepping back. "From now on, all my henchmen are going to be women, I promise you," the Swan said bitterly, straightening her clothes where he had manhandled her. "Come with me and I'll show you." She led him down a narrow passage. The Centurion took off his helmet with its plume in order to move more stealthily. Once they had slipped inside the auditorium through a side door, his eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the henchman standing in the spotlights on the stage, body gleaming gunmetal gray like solid metal. And even more ominous, the beautiful chestnut-haired superheroine he held captive, stripped to nothing but her silver boots and her purple mask, her wrists bound behind her with her own power belt. "Victory?" the Centurion frowned. "What's she doing here?" "That's . . . a long story," Swan said with a flush of embarrassment. "But you've fought her before; you know she's no pushover. He took her down without breaking a sweat. That is assuming he still sweats. Something inside the Enigma Box made him this way. He looks like he's pretty much invulnerable." As the two of them watched from the shadows, the auction was proceeding via the Internet-cams, the bidders making their virtual presence known on computer monitors. Mace MacKenna raised an objection: "I was told that an Enigma Box was for sale. That someone had figured out how to open one." "Right," Black Eagle said. "I opened it, but it ain't for sale any more. In its place, I got something better to offer . . . Victory! Say hello to the nice gentlemen, toots!" Capital City's once-proud superheroine was on her knees, her alluring body trembling with utter hopelessness. Her wrists were tied behind her so that her two plump, mouth-watering melons were jutting forward, their nipples hard as top hats from the sheer degredation of being tied up this way with her own invincible power belt. Her little miniskirt had also been removed, leaving nothing to hide her prim, shaven slit, all soft and pink and vulnerable. The young heroine didn't even try to cover herself. In her heart she felt numb, completely overwhelmed by the extent of her shame and humiliation, glutted with it. What more could he do to her now? "I said SAY HELLO!" the villain snapped. With his left hand, he grabbed a handful of her tangled chestnut brown tresses, yanking her head back and wringing a shrill feminine cry of anguish from her slim throat. At the same time, his right hand cupped the underside of her right boob, lifting it up, jiggling her ample round globe, his fingertips rubbing her exposed nipple and sending an electric thrill of sexual tension rippling down her spine. "Say hello or else I'll strip off your mask too, and let everybody see just who you are!" That got a response! Victory had lived for so long with her dual identity, obsessed with the idea that her secret must be protected at all costs, an automatic surge of adrenalin swept through her exquisite body at the thought of being unmasked. Her silken skin flushed as she struggled in vain against his superior might. "No! Please don't!" she cried out. "I'm begging you! I'll do anything you want! Anything!" Her green eyes, full of tears now, tried not to look at him. The villain released her. "You gotta forgive her; she's a little shy," he laughed. "Now, who'll start the bidding?" "Just a moment, Mr. Eagle," said a prim female voice from one of the monitors. Jordin's heart sank as she recognized Evelyn Eldridge. Wouldn't you know she'd be here to witness her defeat? "The procedure is that the highest bidder transfers the money to your off-shore account, then you make delivery. All very standard of course. But this auction was arranged by the Swan and the Centurion...both known to us as people who can be trusted to keep up their end of the bargain. Not to put too fine a point on it, but who the hell are you? How do we know we can trust you to make delivery?" Some of the other bosses nodded, making sounds of agreement. "The way I see it," Black Eagle replied, "you ain't got a choice if you want the item. You don't wanna bid, that's no skin off my nose, sister. But lemme tell you all something: I'm TAKING OVER Capital City, see? Especially with Victory out of the picture, there ain't nobody can stand against me. I've already beaten the Swan, and before long the Centurion will be one of my henchmen, too. That is if he wants to go on breathing." "I see," said Evelyn. "That seems to be in order, then. Under the circumstances . . . " A thin smile twisted her lips as her cold gray eyes looked at the helpless form of Victory on the stage. " . . . I bid 25,000 Euro." In the dimness, the Centurion's hazel eyes were hard. "I see what you mean, Trista," he said. "We have to move fast. Go back to my chariot and-" Suddenly the butt of an autopistol came down on the back of his head, stunning him. As he dropped to the floor, the Swan stood over him, aiming the pistol right between his eyes. "I'm sorry, lover," she said. "But you heard the man. He's taking over. If I give him you and the other Enigma Box, he'll let me have my wings back. It really burns me, but what are you going to do? A girl's got to look after herself." "Thirty thousand!" - "Thirty five thousand!" - "Forty thousand!" The bidding rapidly rose above a hundred thousand, then two hundred . . . three hundred. It seemed to stall there for a moment, with the crime bosses licking their lips greedily as they looked out from their computer screens at the sight of the helpless Victory, each and every one of the craving the opportunity to own her. "Going once . . . " said Black Eagle. "Going twice . . . " "Three twenty-five!" said Esterhazy St. John. "Three fifty!" countered Mace MacKenna. "Three seventy-five!" shouted Rowan . . . "FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND EURO!" said Evelyn Eldridge. The room went quiet. "Going once . . . " said Black Eagle, grinning. "Come on, guys, anybody else want a piece? Going twice . . . SOLD for five hundred thousand euros! And a very wise investment that was, ma'am, if I may say so." Evelyn gave him a stiff nod to acknowledge the compliment. The other crime bosses looked a little disgruntled. "The rest of you," said Black Eagle, "can take a fifteen minute break while I make the arrangements with Mrs. Eldridge. But don't go away, because there's still the second Enigma Box." One by one, the crime bosses got up from their computer screens, leaving empty chairs showing, but their Internet connection in place. Chapter Six After the fifteen minute break, the crime bosses returned to their places in front of the webcams to see that a few changes had been made. There was the table with the opened Enigma Box, the one containing the stone which had turned Black Eagle into living metal. Standing a little way to one side was a second table with the second, unopened Enigma Box, just as he had promised! The Black Swan, once again in possession of her wings and her strength-enhancing gauntlets, had gone out to the Centurion's chariot, overpowered his minions, and brought the box back.