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Victory Is Mine

Chapter 1

Jordin Tyler had dressed hurriedly that morning without putting on a bra, but since it was the weekend she figured she could get away with it. She had to work on aSaturdaybecause she had taken Friday off for personal business, which was not unusual for employees at Hasselhoff Electronics. When you were in constant competition to produce the next generation of everything from dvds to communications satellites, you had to have the best, most creative people in the world, and creativity cannot be shackled to a rigid, inflexible workweek! At least that was what the CEO had told her when she had taken the job two years earlier, fresh out of Caltech. They didn't even ask why you wanted the day off, which was perfect for Jordin's off the clock, somewhat clandestine activities.

The beautiful young woman parked her Mazda CX-7 and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her startlingly green eyes liked what they saw -- nice high cheekbones, full lips, luxurious brunette tresses. She was wearing a pale blue blouse and a navy skirt with black heels. Of course she also had her favorite accessories, a pair of silver bracelets. Before she got out of the car, she put on a pair of glasses with huge frames, less because she needed them and more because they seemed to help her colleagues take her more serious, while simultaneously discouraging her male co-workers from hitting on her. Not that the attention wasn't flattering but she wanted to keep professional at work.

Pulling on a white lab coat (ensuring full coverage) Jordin crossed the parking lot towards the main building. She noticed a big green U.S. Army truck parked right in front of the steps. Behind it was Dr. Strickland's silver and blue BMW.

Oh crap! Jordin thought. What is SHE doing here on a Saturday?

And there she was in person Clarise Strickland; a tall skinny woman on the wrong side of forty-five, bearing a notable physical resemblance to Heidi Klum, though her personality was more like the Evil Queen from Sleeping Beauty. She was one of the company's senior engineers although her best years were clearly behind her. If the water cooler gossip was to be believed, she was always on the verge of either being unceremoniously terminated or promoted upstairs to the board of directors with great fanfare. Having worked closely with the woman this past week, Jordin assumed the former to be the more realistic possibility.

Dr. Strickland was wearing one of her usual charcoal gray suits, the long slit skirt showing off her slender legs, and her blond hair gathered up in a bun. Her heels clicked on the steps as she led the way out of the building followed by an Army sergeant and two privates in full fatigues (complete with guns!). The privates were carrying a stainless steel case in between them. When she saw Jordin, Dr. Strickland froze in mid step.

"Miss Tyler!" she seemed flustered, "what are you doing here?"

Jordin stared in surprise as the soldiers carried the metal case past her and she read the label on the cover.

"Is that the Orpheus Project?" she blurted, ignoring her supervisor's question. "It's not ready to be field tested yet!"

Orpheus was an ultrasonic projector, supposedly to be used for non-lethal crowd control, making it possible to knock out large groups of belligerents without physically harming them. The U.S. Army had invested in the project for years without any significant progress; hence Dr. Stricklands waning favor with the board of directors. Jordin herself had been brought in to consult the past week, and while the schematics looked fine, she couldn't figure out why the thing kept failing every time it was tested in the laboratory.

Dr. Strickland quickly recovered her hauteur. "Miss Tyler," she said with her nose in the air, "which one of us has a PhD in electronics engineering?"

Jordin blushed, unconsciously crossing her arms over her unsupported bust. "You do, Dr. Strickland."

"And which one of us has over twenty five years of experience with systems like this?"

"You do, Dr. Strickland. But..."

"But nothing, this is my project and I'll decide when it's ready to be field tested," the older woman said, watching the soldiers load the case onto the back of the truck. "Kindly keep your mind on your own projects and we will all be happier."

Feeling very small, Jordin was about to go on by and do exactly that. Dr. Strickland had just that kind of domineering personality and a day working on her own projects, alone, was just what the young engineer had wanted. However a familiar feeling (call it woman's intuition) in the pit of her stomach gave Jordin pause. Chewing delicately on her bottom lip, she watched the Orpheus being loaded. Once the device was secure in the back of the Army truck with both armed guards, and the third soldier had gotten behind the wheel, Clarice gracefully slid into the driver's seat of her beamer. Something just felt off to Jordin and after a moment's hesitation, the young woman wrenched open the passenger door of the BMW and climbed in.

"Protocol requires at least two observers on any field test," she said smugly as Strickland opened her mouth to protest. "It looks like you forgot to ask anybody to join you, convenient since I was brought in to consult this week."

The sergeant driving the truck looked impatient to be on his way. Strickland waved him on as she put her car in gear. "Very well, slacker," she sighed. "Maybe you'll learn a little something."

The small convoy left the industrial park and drove towards the Fort Roberts testing grounds. Neither of the women spoke as they watched the scenery go by. The uncomfortable silence was broken only the steady tap-tap of Strickland's fingernails, nervously tapping the steering wheel. They were on a country road with forest on both sides, still several miles from the Army post, when suddenly from out of nowhere a cloud of white smoke covered the road ahead. The truck in front of them slammed on its brakes and Dr. Strickland followed suit with a curse. Jordin squinted through the smoke at the shadowy figures of the soldiers as they got out of the truck, holding their M-16s ready.

Abruptly there was another figure in the fog. It was definitely male, seemingly dressed like a Roman officer in a white short-sleeved tunic, a form-fitting breastplate, and a helmet with a red plume. He charged the two soldiers before they knew what hit them, his powerful body a ballet of motion as he laid them both out with ease. It was over just that quickly! Jordin watched with shocked fascination, more than a little impressed with the man's deadly skill. She lifted her bracelets, preparing to make the change into Victory and face the strangely attired man...

"It's the Centurion!" Dr. Strickland gasped.

Jordin stopped herself, realizing she could not change with Clarise sitting right next to her. By then the sergeant clambered down from the cab, opening fire with his sidearm, but the bullets seemed to have no effect on the supervillain's armored breastplate. In a matter of seconds, the sergeant was left unconscious as well. Dr. Strickland was still sitting there almost in a daze as the Centurion turned towards the two women.

"Let's get out of here!" Jordin shook the older woman's shoulder to get her attention.

"Oh... right!"

Glancing backwards they saw two of Centurion's henchmen, wearing matching white tunics and trousers but no armor, closing in on the car! Strickland put the car in drive and punched the gas pedal. The BMW lurched forward, swerving around the stopped truck. To their surprise, rather than duck out of the way, the Centurion leapt into their path and drew the short sword from his belt. As the weapon cleared its sheath, a halo of energy ignited around the blade. Calmly he brought the weapon down on the hood of the beamer, slicing through the metal as if it were cardboard! The vehicle shuddered and immediately stalled out.

Blast it! Jordin thought frustrated. I can't transform in front of Dr. Strickland but this guy is the real deal!

Jordin instantly unbuckled her seatbelt and tumbled out the passenger side. If she could get away and conceal herself in the bushes, she could change to her own super-powered alter ego. Then this Centurion would be in for quite a rude surprise!

"Not so fast, babe," said a harsh male voice, as the two henchmen seized her arms on either side.

Frustration now shifted towards desperation for the young woman. Rolling one way then the other, she tried to escape their grip. Her arm slipped free for a moment, but one calloused hand seized the front of her blouse popping several buttons off the garment as she tried to wrench free! Still the other thug was able to maintain, even tighten his grip on her arm and shoulder, struggle as she might, Jordin was still just a normal girl and the two men easily overpowered her. A soft groan escaped her lips as she was lifted bodily off the ground and a pit of dread settled in her stomach as she was carried back towards their villainous boss.

Chapter 2

"Project Orpheus, I presume," The Centurion said smugly as he flipped the catches on the metal case.

The smoke screen had already dispersed and while a third henchman was tying up the three soldiers, the supervillain reveled in his triumph. He gave the device a cursory inspection before re-securing the lid. Satisfied he turned to see his men dragging one of the women towards him.

"Get your hands off of me!" Jordin protested, squirming uselessly in the hands of the two thugs. "Let me go!"

"Hey boss," said one of the men, grinning. "Look at the nookie we caught trying to sneak away. Can we keep her? Maybe like a bonus?"

The villain's eyes swept over Jordin, sending a chill down her spine. The cheekpieces of his helmet obscured much of his face, but his hazel eyes were piercing and seemed to take in everything as he scanned her body from top to bottom. Without warning, he drew a wooden rod from his weapon belt and swung it in a blinding arc! Jordin flinched, bracing for impact. Instead there was an audible thud as the blow struck the henchman in the stomach, dropping him to his knees, gasping for breath.

"You will address me as 'captain' or as 'commander'," the Centurion said coldly. "If I hear that barbarian word 'boss' again, I will beat you to within an inch of your life. Do you understand me?"

Nodding vigorously, the thug on the ground managed to gasp, "Yes, commander."

Jordin felt her pulse racing. The Centurion hadn't even taken his eyes off her. His arms were strong and muscular, as were his bare legs below the kilt of his tunic. If his molded chestplate could be believed, he had a killer set of pecs and abs. Every move he made was with the economy and confidence of a lion ruling over his pride. His presence alone was enough to make her feel small, inferior...but of course she was. Jordin Tyler was clearly no match for this man!

I've got to find a way to transform into Victory! She thought frustrated.

"You've got what you came for," Jordin tried to put some authority in her voice. "Let us go, before you make this worse on yourself."

"My my, you've the spirit of Minerva in you," Centurion replied.

"I'm not afraid of you," Jordin spat.

"Clearly," he said, smiling. "That's good!"

His eyes were roaming now towards the top of Jordin's blouse. No doubt he was enjoying the view, the top few buttons had come undone in her struggles, and the garment had shifted enough to display one of her soft pink nipples. Then his hands were reaching for her, he wore leather fingerless gloves with metal studs, and for one breathless moment she expected he was going to finish ripping open her blouse... then to her surprise, he actually readjusted the blouse to cover her breast, instead fingering the I.D. badge clipped to the pocket of her lab coat.

Roman fixation...delusions of propriety...what kind of villain is this man? The engineer wondered.

"I like a woman with spirit... Jordin Tyler." Again his piercing gaze locked with her own. "Especially one so beautiful, with the emerald gaze of the goddess of Cyprus."

"Y-you can sssave your empty compliments," Jordin heard herself say, wishing her voice wasn't trembling. "You're nothing but a common criminal."

"I may be a criminal, but I hope I'm not a common one," he replied with an indignant chuckle.

Their eyes were locked together as he reached up with surprisingly gentle touch and took hold of the frames of her glasses. Jordin felt helpless, almost paralyzed, unable to do anything but stare as he took them off. In some way it made her feel even more vulnerable, as if he were undressing her. The breath caught in her throat and her heart hammered in her chest.

"You're much too beautiful to be wearing these," Centurion said.

"Flattery will get you nowhere!" It took all of Jordin's will power to keep her glossed lips from trembling.

"You'll never get away with this, Centurion," said Dr. Strickland suddenly. She had been so quiet all this time, Jordin had forgotten all about her. "When we don't arrive at Fort Roberts on schedule, Major Goodman will send a patrol out to look for us."

"Silence," the supervillain spat, swinging those hazel eyes toward the older woman. "I am in control here!"

Clarise snapped her mouth shut and Jordin had to admit some admiration of Centurion for that feat alone. He turned back to Jordin, not making eye contact but reaching towards her body. The young engineer recoiled, just a bit as she was still firmly held by the two henchmen. A lump welled in her throat as the villain began to paw at her slender figure. However, there was nothing lewd as she had feared, it was actually a very professional pat down. At first Jordin was relieved, until he found her cell phone. To her dismay it was smashed on the ground. There would certainly be no calling for help now.

That's ok, Jordin thought, holding back a smirk so as not to alert this villain. The only person I want to call is not too far away, no not far at all!

"Apologies," he said not bothering to feign sincerity. Then Centurion began making commanding gestures towards his henchmen. Quickly they disabled the truck engine and radio, ensuring there was no way she might call for help. One of them ran off into the trees and came back driving a large four-wheeled chariot. The men loaded the case with the Orpheus device onto it.

"I apologize for leaving you like this, sweet enchantress," the Centurion said to Jordin. Then his right hand darted out like a snake and seized Strickland's arm. "Come along, doctor. I'll need you as an insurance policy."

"What? No!" she protested, but there was nothing she could do as the Centurion hauled her onto his chariot and drove off.

Jordin stood in the road watching them depart. Sometimes being a delicate little girl had it advantages; after all they hadn't bothered to tie her up like the three soldiers. As soon as the chariot was out of sight, she grinned and rolled up the sleeves of her lab coat; exposing the two glittering bracelets.

"You just made a BIG mistake, Centurion!" Jordin spat.

She banged the bracelets together, their impact accompanied by a blinding flash of light! An instant later junior engineer Jordin Tyler was replaced with the superheroine Victory. Her tall, slender frame was posed in a dramatic stance; high heeled silver boots planted firmly as her long shapely legs fed into a pair of purple Lycra hotpants clinging to the curve of her peach-like ass. Her silver power belt hung slightly uneven on her narrow hips and above that her bare stomach clearly displayed toned abs. A matching halter top clung skin tight to the curves of her supple C-cups, emblazoned with a silver "V". Her long brown hair fell about her sleek shoulders, framing the purple mask that partially obscured her beautiful face.

Scanning the sky the heroine grinned, the Victorycycle would be there in no time...and then the chase would be on!

Chapter 3

Not fifteen minutes later, the Victorycycle was cruising silently through a weed-covered parking lot in the middle of nowhere. Huge abandoned buildings of corrugated steel stood on every side, their windows were covered in grime after years of neglect, making them seem ancient beyond their time. The beautiful superheroine looked up at a faded sign reading "Excelsior Metal Works".

What better hideout for a villain with a Latin fixation, Victory thought errantly.

A sound, voices, made her ears perk up. Quietly the young heroine slipped her shapely round caboose off of her metal steed. Keeping flat against the side of the building, she followed the wall to a doorway flanked by two large windows. The glass and the door were missing from both, leaving only gaping holes. Two men were inside standing around what used to be a reception area. The superheroine crouched under the window frame, edging closer so that she could overhear what they were saying.

"I'll be happy to say adios to this shit," one of the men grumbled. "What kind of fruitcake are we working for anyway?"

Victory recognized his voice; this one had made the "Hey boss" comment.

"You're just mad he smacked you around some...listen I've worked for the Centurion for three years," the other man said, "and I've learned a lot from him. You just don't have any discipline."

"Discipline schmiscipline," the first one scoffed. "You run a caper, you get paid. That's all I give a rat's ass about. He's got us posted here as look-outs! What do we need look-outs for? We made a clean getaway! No way anybody can trace us! Nobody but nobody has the faintest idea where we are!"

Victory smiled as she raised one flawless eyebrow. That was a cue if she ever heard one! Her lean, silken body dove head-first through the window opening, executing a perfect forward roll as she landed catlike before them.

"Morning, boys!" she said smugly. "I guess you can just call me Nobody."

The veteran henchman recovered from his surprise first, drawing a thick wooden truncheon from his belt. The lissome heroine ducked under the blow and returned an uppercut that sent the thug sailing through the doorway. The second man, the one she was beginning to think of as "Big Mouth", grabbed her from behind, attempting to pin her arms.

"I got you!" he crowed. "I got you now, you smart ass superchick!"

"Really?" Victory pushed backwards, slamming both of them HARD against the interior wall.

The goon grunted in pain and with her super strength Victory easily broke his grip. In a heartbeat, the sassy superbabe spun around and brought up one alluring leg in a high kick that caught him in the jaw. He sagged to the floor.

Whew! Those cardio-kickboxing classes really paid off, she thought smugly.

Victory considered tying them up, but dismissed the idea. She didn't like Dr. Strickland very much, but there was no telling what the Centurion was doing to her. The poor woman must be terrified, helpless in the hands of a ruthless supervillain. She had to rescue her as quickly as possible.

Moving deeper into the building, Victory passed by several offices and came out into the factory floor. It was mostly empty, lit by dusty beams of light from skylights high overhead. On the far end she came upon the Centurion's chariot, parked next to a large set of outside doors.

Dr. Strickland was sitting perched on an old packing crate, with the metal case containing the Orpheus device at her feet. Her hands were folded in her lap, but she didn't appear to be tied up. The Centurion was leaning over her, speaking quietly. Victory could have easily snuck up and taken him by surprise, but that wasn't her style.

"Alright, chump!" she said, stepping into view and planting her hands on her gorgeous hips. "Surrender right now or history is going to repeat itself!"
"VICTORY!" Strickland gasped, looking up flabbergasted at the sight of her.

The Centurion didn't seem to be discomfited in the slightest. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, lovely lady," he said, giving her that infuriating smile. He strolled slowly in her direction, unsheathing his short sword but not igniting the energy sheath. "I wasn't aware Capital City had a resident superheroine."

"I've already taken out your goons," Victory said, tossing her luxurious brunette tresses. "Lay down your weapon and I won't have to embarrass you in front of your captive!"

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," his confidence was unwavering.

The sword came towards her in a lightning jab, but the heroine deflected it with her unbreakable bracelets. Again and again he thrust, each blow caught and turned aside. He was good, but thanks to the heroine's enhanced speed and reflexes, not quite good enough!

Seeing him in action up close like this, she could tell that his bronze-colored breastplate wasn't made of rigid metal, but some kind of synthetic that molded itself to the shape of his body. She couldn't help but notice how the muscles of his chest and torso rippled very nicely as he moved, each attack perfectly smooth and fluid... but this was no time to let herself get distracted!

"Last chance to surrender," Victory sneered, knowing she had things well in hand.

"An officer never considers such a course," Centurion replied glibly.

Victory shrugged and caught his sword with a one-two combo, disarming him. As his weapon clattered to the concrete floor, she pivoted on her left foot, bringing her right in a kick. Her high-heeled boot landed smack in the middle of those gorgeous abs, sending the supervillain flying. He crashed hard against a packing crate and dropped on his butt.

"I came, I saw, I conquered," the spunky superheroine smirked over her shoulder, turning her sassy little tail on the fallen Centurion. "Easily, I might add."

Clarise Strickland sat there looking stunned by the turn of events. Jordin couldn't help feeling a somewhat vindictive pleasure at being her rescuer, but this was no time to revel in it.

"Don't worry, Dr. Strickland," she said soothingly, patting her on the shoulder and checking her for injuries. "You're safe now."

"Ulp... Victory?" Strickland quavered. "How... however did you find me?" She looked over at her captor, who was even now getting back to his feet. "The Centurion..."

"Oh don't worry about him," the spunky superheroine scoffed. "Thanks to my power belt, I'm more than a match for any man." She turned again to face the Centurion, striking her haughtiest pose. "You want to try me again, big shot, or are you ready to..."

But suddenly she felt a pair soft hands steal around her slender waist from behind. Before Victory had time to react, Dr. Strickland had unlatched her power belt! The superheroine felt a sinking sensation in her stomach as her invincible weapon was taken away!

"Hey! What are you doing?" she gasped feeling her powers drain away.

The older woman backed away, holding Victory's power belt dangling from her hands. "Much better," she declared with a grin. "That wiped the insufferable smirk off your face, didn't it? Centurion, I don't think this silly little twit will give you any more problems! Not without her precious superpowers!"

Chapter 4

Victory gasped out loud in shock at her betrayal! She should have known better than to confide the secret of her powers to that witch! The alluring heroine made a lunge in Strickland's direction, grabbing for her power belt...the Centurion was there to cut her off!

"Most interesting," he said, taking off his helmet to reveal a handsome clean-shaven face with close-cropped brown hair. "Shall we try this again, with the odds a little more even?" He unbuckled his weapon belt and dropped it to the floor.

Victory circled away towards the door, with the villain pacing her every step. She still had her indestructible bracelets for defense. If he was divesting himself of his own weapons, she might stand a chance! Jordin tried a left jab, but he parried and caught her wrist like a striking snake.

"OH!" she cried out in a mixture of pain and surprise as he jerked her forward and twisted her arm behind her. Holding her imprisoned like that, he took off her left bracelet and tossed it aside.

"Are we having fun yet?" he taunted.

The sexy superheroine spun around, slashing backwards with her right fist. The Centurion easily caught that arm too! Effortlessly pinning both slender limbs behind her back, he removed her other bracelet and discarded it as well.

"Stop it!" Victory squeaked, her cheeks burning with shame as she struggled. "Give me back my bracelets you...ugh!" She felt like a five year old begging the playground bully not to take her little toys! With his free hand he brushed her brown locks out of her face so that he could look her in the eyes.

"You were saying something about surrender earlier?" he said smugly, his fingers stroking her smooth bare neck.

"It's not over yet, jerk!" Victory spat.

It was pure bluster and they both knew it. He was only playing with her now. Stripped of her powers, she was nothing more than a skinny girl in spandex hot pants! What good were her weak, feminine defenses against a Man? Still smiling that infuriating smile, he released her. The heroine whirled around to face him, casting about her for options.

When the Centurion moved in again, she made a feint towards the exit. He took the bait, and she whipped her supple body around, bringing her right leg up in a kick to the same spot on his abdomen she had hit earlier. But without her super strength behind it, her boot just thudded into his solid torso to no effect. And like a cobra, he seized her ankle!

"This has certainly been an enjoyable battle," the villain laughed.

With her leg trapped, Victory was caught off balance on one foot, powerless to resist as he forced her backwards. She hopped awkwardly until her back was against the wall. Her cheeks flushing a little hotter as she realized the view he might be getting of her crotch in that position.

"No!" She gasped as his hands continued moving forward, along the curve of her slim ankle, her calf, caressing the smooth skin of her knee. This close, she was overwhelmed by the aroma of his masculine sweat, so musky and despite herself... arousing! His right hand lightly touched her softness inner thigh, groping towards her snatch and causing goosebumps to ripple across her tanned skin.

"Let go of me!" Victory moaned, drumming her fists uselessly against his broad shoulders.

By then he had let go of her leg and his strapping male body was pressing against hers, pinning her to the wall. His sinewy arms captured her svelte waist, hands pausing briefly to give her butt cheeks a squeeze through the thin fabric of her hot pants, then sliding upwards along the bare skin of her back. Her whole body seemed to tingle at his touch.

No! This isn't sexy Victory chided herself. He's taking advantage of the situation...can't allow myself to...

"My, this is cozy," the Centurion said, leaning down to force a rough kiss on the helpless heroine.

Victory closed her eyes as his mouth covered hers, his tongue invading, dominating her... She could feel his heart pounding in the same rhythm as hers. Currents of hot desire where pumping through her body. A thrill of ecstasy spread through her womanhood as she felt the male hardness of his trouser snake, suddenly rising against her. His hands suddenly returned to her peach-like ass, groping and squeezing over the thin Lycra. Victory moaned softly, dismayed to realize that she was losing not just to his superior strength, but to the urgent need of her body to respond in surrender. Her pussy began to feel moist and willing, it took every bit of her willpower to fight the urge to rub herself against his bulge.

The Centurion broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Now, how am I going to keep you out of mischief?" he said. "I don't have any spare manacles. I suppose I'll have to improvise with what we have on hand."

Victory's pretty knees were trembling. She didn't feel capable of much mischief. But then the Centurion's hands slid up the soft curves of her back again and began fumbling with catch on the back of her halter top.

No! He wouldn't dare! She barely had time for the dreadful realization.

With one quick movement, he whisked her halter off, hauling the skimpy spandex top over her head and down her slender arms! Victory's mouth gaped in utter surprise and indignation as her naked breasts were exposed! In a trice, the villain had tied her wrists securely with her own garment.

"Wha...?" she whimpered. "You can't... can't do this to me..."

Her wobbly knees gave way, causing her to slide down the wall to land with a bump on her tailbone. The Centurion took hold of her hot pants and yanked them down over her round little bottom.

"Please no," the nubile young heroine pleaded as the spandex fabric whispered all the way down her exquisite silken legs and the villain tied them in a knot around her ankles, leaving her slit with nothing to cover it but her flimsy white thong. She struggled weakly in her bonds but it was no use. With only the strength of skinny girl to avail her, the makeshift bonds were more than adequate.

"There, that should do it," the Centurion said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Dr. Strickland, who had been eagerly watching the entire time, set down Victory's power belt and came forward to gloat.

"Well done, Centurion," she said. "I admit I never expected Victory to show up and spoil our plans, but you handled her perfectly."

The helpless superheroine sat quivering on the floor, her long legs together in front of her and her hands cupped over her succulent naked C-cups. Her high-boned cheeks burned with the complete humiliation of being tied up with her own uniform, she was totally at their mercy.

"YOUR plans?" she whimpered. "You hijacked your own project?"

Strickland drew herself up haughtily. "It's not that difficult to grasp, my dear. I flatter myself that I can see which way the wind blows. I've already been passed over too many times. All it took was a little judicious sabotage until the time was right. Then I hired the Centurion to steal the device on its way to the field test, and of course abduct me at the same time. Leaving me free to sell the Orpheus device to the highest bidder. Plus, lo and behold, we capture an annoyingly cocky superheroine in the bargain!"

Victory glared up at the two villains. "Very clever," she sulked.

"Yes it is," Strickland said musingly. "But you know, I've always wondered just WHO is under that mask! Centurion, if you wouldn't mind..."

Victory sat up straight, her pulse racing. As the male villain knelt in front of her again, she clutched her hands to her breasts and pushed backwards with her legs, but really there was no point in trying to resist. Tears welled up in her green eyes.

"Oh please! Please don't unmask me! I'm begging you!"

"Your supplication is quite unbecoming," he replied dismissively. "I must admit to being a little curious myself."

With one hand he grabbed her wrists and forced them down to her lap so that she could not interfere, and took a moment to enjoy the great view of her soft pink nipples this gave him. Then the fingers of his other hand grasped the edges of her mask, gently tugging. Victory found herself staring helplessly, tearfully, imploringly into his hazel eyes. It felt just the same as earlier that morning, when he had taken her glasses away from her, only this time she was in a much, much more vulnerable position.

"My word!" Clarise Strickland gasped as her identity was revealed. "Jordin Tyler! I never would have guessed! Never in a million years!"

The Centurion, holding her mask, backed away with a smile on his face. "Oh sweet enchantress! This is indeed a pleasant surprise!"

The unmasked heroine drew into a fetal ball, burying her exposed face in her hands.

No! How can this be happening? I'm Victory...she lamented as a few hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

Chapter 5

The two henchmen Victory had knocked out earlier came wandering sheepishly into the room, along with the third who had been posted elsewhere. The men tried to stand at attention, but the sight of the sexy, cocksure superheroine sprawled on the floor tied up with her own costume obviously drew their attention. Big Mouth's grin was so wide it nearly took in his ears.

Victory sat there despondently with her legs curled underneath her, feeling appallingly stupid for letting herself get captured and unmasked. She tried to wriggle out of her restraints, but the knots the Centurion had tied her defeated her easily.

"I don't understand, Centurion," Strickland was saying. "Why must we wait here in this musty old factory? Why can't we fly away in your chariot?"

"The Army will expect that," the supervillain explained, putting his weapon belt back on. "By now they have helicopters scanning the skies for my chariot. If we lay low for a few hours, they'll assume they missed us and widen their search. At that point, we can drive you right past them in an ordinary panel truck."

"I suppose you know your business," the older woman conceded, turning her attention back to the helpless Victory. "Meanwhile, when are you going to dispose of this inept little twit? I don't like having her around. She makes me nervous."

Dispose of me?? The heroine looked up unable to keep the fright from her pretty green eyes. I don't have to guess what she means...ulp!

"You hired me for a specific purpose," the Centurion replied. "That does not buy you the privilege of giving me orders, or questioning my decisions."

Strickland pursed her lips, plainly irked at having her wishes ignored. She grit her teeth, "as you say..."

The Centurion gave rapid orders to his henchmen. Big Mouth was assigned to "keep an eye" on Strickland, while the others were told to find the Victorycycle and bring it inside the building. Then he took Victory's hands and abruptly hauled the superheroine to her feet, in the process giving his henchmen an eye-popping view of her luscious tits.

Jordin blushed. Standing before him, stripped down to nothing but her plain white thong and boots, she felt her skin shiver with anticipation of what he might be planning. She looked timidly into his eyes.

"Wha... what are you going to do with me?" she asked breathlessly.

"You might call it a private interrogation," he said. Then he picked her up and slung her lithe frame across his left shoulder like a sack of laundry. Victory let out a feminine squeak of outrage and embarrassment. Her brunette tresses cascaded around her face and neck as her naked torso hung down his broad back, her tempting little booty thrust upwards flashing both pert cheeks around her scant thong, to the delight of his henchmen.

"Put me down!" she sputtered, her long legs kicking in futile protest. "You can't do this to me!"

Strickland watched with a thin smile. The three thugs laughed. Victory felt tears of frustration coming again, knowing that she was demeaning herself even further but somehow unable to stop.

"I am Victory! You can't treat me like this, you big bully! If my hands were free I'd...OUCH!" She was cut off as he reached up and slapped her HARD on the ass.

"Behave yourself, little girl," he said dangerously, "or I'll take your panties off and gagyou with them!"

He gave the heroine another sharp spank causing her to yelp in pain. The sting as well as the utter humiliation of it silenced her.

The Centurion looped his left arm around the backs of the superheroine's knees to keep her struggling under control and carried her off, stroking her creamy thighs with his free hand. Across the factory floor he marched, up a flight of iron stairs to what used to be a supervisor's office. The original furnishings consisted of a desk, a couple of chairs, and four filing cabinets, none of them in the best of condition. But someone had recently cleared a space and added a folding camp chair and an inflatable mattress.

"Home sweet home," the Centurion said, as he unceremoniously dumped Victory onto the mattress, "be it only temporary."

Victory's body sank slightly into the welcoming plushness. She struggled to sit up, but he roughly pushed her back down. Squatting, he seized her ankles and unknotted her hot pants, tossing the skimpy garment into the corner of the room.

"Please don't try to escape, enchantress," he said. "I don't want to have to hurt you."

The helpless heroine nodded meekly. Lying submissively on her back, she watched him stand up and remove his weapon belt and breastplate.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked again.

He went into a crouch, creeping up to her on hands and knees like a jungle cat stalking a defenseless doe. "I am going to do what I have been wanting to do since I first set eyes on you, Jordin Tyler."

Victory's heart was pounding. "No... I'll never..."

His body was on top of her now, holding her down. She wriggled underneath him, her tail rubbing over the plush mattress as her hands pressed against his chest in a futile attempt to ward him off. He caught her forearms and forced them over her head, leaving her breasts naked and vulnerable. In an instant, his mouth was all over them, kissing and sucking, his teeth gently nibbling at first one nipple, then the other. His free hand groped the firm C-cups roughly, tugging and squeezing!

"You can't... Can't do this to me..." the heroine moaned as her nipples stood up like top hats under his hands. "I'm Victory!"

His hands slid downward along Victory's smooth arms, following the curve of her shoulders and torso, continuing to cup and twist her sweet, pliant tits while his mouth moved lower still, planting a string of hot kisses along the delicate silken skin of her ribs and tummy. As his hands reached her waist, he flirted for a second with the waistband of her thong, then he tugged the panties down her long shapely legs and tossed them aside. Grabbing her ankles, he spread Victory's legs, the spunky superheroine in no position to resist.

"Please don't... " she whimpered, lying there spread-eagled it was all she could say.

Victory could feel the heat from the Centurion's muscular body hovering over her, aroused and ready, his legs tensed as they imprisoned hers, keeping them splayed, her primly shaven womanhood on full display to him. Her arms were still stretched out above her, wrists bound and helpless by her own halter. A shudder tap-danced up her spine at the thought of what was coming next. But he didn't take her just yet.

Victory gasped aloud as he leaned forward, putting his mouth right over her unprotected muff. Her thighs quivered as his tongue ran swiftly along her moist pussy lips, sucking and licking. Her body's betrayal came quickly. Independent of her own will, her body arched towards him, her narrow hips surging gently upwards and back... upwards and back with mounting eagerness. He was ravenous, insatiable, and she responded in kind. Electricity coursed through her bodysilencing her own internal protests, a physical submission if not mental. She felt on the very brink of an orgasm, her vagina fluttering with sensual anticipation. She tried to hold it back, but he was too good, his tongue hitting every button she had as if her knew her!

"No...No more..." she purred, "please stop..."

The Centurion paused, keeping her on tenterhooks just long enough to drop the shorts he was wearing underneath his tunic. Then he was on top of her again. His lips were on her shoulders and neck, kissing and ravaging her tender flesh. Her entire body tingled, longing for his touch despite herself. His hands held himself braced on the mattress while his cock found the tight entrance to her sweet honeypot. For a long tantalizing moment she could feel his throbbing member probing at the folds of her labia, then with a firm thrust of his hips, he had entered, all nine glorious inches of him!
"Ohgodohgodohgod!" Victory screamed, squirming underneath him as he mounted her. "No! Please...Don't...Stop...Don't stop! Please ohgod don't stop I'm begging you!"

Victory groaned as he forced his way in, it hurt at first, but she soon felt her pussy stretching to accommodate his massive cock! Her hips began rolling in synch with his powerful thrusts. He was a machine, relentless and unstoppable. His hard, rigid tool kept pumping her again and again and again and again for what felt like hours, driving her wild, driving her into a frenzy, until with one final spasm he gushed a veritable geyser of hot sticky semen! The sudden sensation made her head spin and as the warmth flooded through her the ravaged heroine cried out, shaking with a violent orgasm!

"YES! YES! Ohgod yes..." she mewled, her body trembling.

Victory writhed underneath the Centurion, gazing up at him through big doe eyes. She lay back on the mattress limp and exhausted, high on post-coital euphoria. She'd been with other men but none of them had been like that. She felt as if she'd been truly fucked for the very first time. Right then someone rapped quietly on the door.

"Commander?" a voice called timidly. "We need you, sir."

"No rest for the wicked," the Centurion groaned as he pulled his shorts on. The cowed heroine watched him go, through glassy green eyes.

I feel like an egg, she thought dreamily...and I've just been laid!

Chapter 6

The Centurion left Victory behind with a VERY satisfied smile on his face. As he pulled the office door closed behind him, he twisted a length of heavy wire around the doorknob and secured it to the stair railing, confident that his delicious prisoner was safe and helpless to escape. At the bottom of the stairs, he saw the Victorycycle where his henchmen had parked it, inert and impotent, unable to aid its captive mistress. He spared the vehicle a nod of approval. The superheroine was obviously an outstanding engineer in addition to being an amazing fuck! On the other side of the factory floor, a plain gray panel truck was parked beside his chariot.

His fourth henchman had arrived, reporting that a U.S. Army attack helicopter was patrolling in the area.

"Shit!" Strickland cursed. "Victory! I knew it! What if that stupid bitch called in our location?"

"I don't think that's her style," the Centurion said dismissively. "She has a touch of arrogance, that one. She would have wanted to bring us in all by herself."

The stunning superlady's powerbelt, bracelets and mask were lying there on the packing crate. He picked up her mask, smiling as he thought how much he had enjoyed her pussy. Unable to keep a gleam from his eyes; like the cat that ate the canary...and who was looking forward to doing so again very soon.

"I still say we should dispose of her," said Strickland, cutting into his thoughts.

"I will decide what happens to her," the Centurion snapped. Then an ironic smile played about his lips. "Victory is mine!"

Upstairs in the office, Victory sat up on the mattress. She had to get escape before the Centurion returned.

Who knows what he'll do to me next time, she thought with more curiosity than she cared to admit.

Now that she wasn't being watch, she plucked at the knot in her halter with her teeth until she got it undone. Once she was free, the powerless superheroine sat there rubbing her chafed wrists, looking around her prison. There was nothing but a few pieces of decrepit furniture that had been left behind when the factory was abandoned. Nothing she could use as a weapon if the Centurion came back to have his way with her again. She might possibly barricade the door, but what good would that do her? He still had her mask and all her weapons! Struggling to shake off her despair, she pulled on her thong, then her skimpy purple uniform. It felt good to be dressed again, if nothing else.

Victory tried the door. It wasn't locked, but something, a wire of somekind most likely, was wound about the handles so it only gave a couple of inches despite her best efforts. She kicked the door in impotent frustration, feeling the tears welling once again.

I hate feeling so helpless! she thought to herself. I'm a grown woman, a superheroine not some...

Just then something brushed the ankle of her silver boot. Victory glanced down to see a skinny rat sniffing at her high heel. A spasm of panic shot through her lissome body. Her pretty knees nearly knocking together, the sexy superheroine let out a shrill scream and jumped up on the desk. The rodent, seeming to sense that the trembling girl was too frightened to be a threat, reared up almost taunting, as if it meant to crawl up after her. Victory's skin felt as if it were going to crawl right off of her.

...Not some feeble little girl? She finished her thought with a note of self-deprecation. Scared of a dirty little mouse?

Then she heard footsteps coming up the iron staircase. The heroine's cheeks flushed with shame at the thought of the Centurion catching her like this, cowering in fright like a little girl! But when the door creaked open, it wasn't the supervillain. It was the henchman she thought of as Big Mouth! The thug took in the scene and laughed.

"Oh hell ain't this cute?" he drawled. "The tough, cocky-ass superhero scared of a mouse!"

Victory saw red. She suddenly wanted nothing more in this world than to wipe that smug, sneering grin right off his face! The young heroine leaped, intending to grab his collar and slam his head against the doorjamb. Unfortunately she was so used to having superhuman strength, she misjudged her impact. The goon caught her wrists easily and Victory's heart sank realizing he was much stronger than her.

"Cute, babe," he smirked, twisting her arms behind her. "But not good enough."

"Let go of me!" Victory whined, struggling uselessly in his clutches.

Holding both her wrists captive with one hand, the thug reached up with the other and grabbed a handful of her luxurious brunette hair. She could not even hold back a soft yelp as he gave a sharp yank!

"You ain't so tough without your superpowers, are ya?" the henchman sneered. "without them, it's just girl against man. And we both know which one is stronger, don't we?" Jordin writhed in his grasp, her sleek, spandex-clad body rubbing up and down against him. "DON'T WE?" he repeated, yanking even more savagely on her tresses.

"YES!" Victory squeaked, tears of pain brimming in her eyes. "YES! You're stronger than me! Please don't..."

Keeping a firm grip on her locks, he released her wrists, letting that hand roam around her slim torso. He tugged on the clingy fabric of her uniform, slipping inside her halter top to squeeze her nubile breast like a lush, ripe melon. Her stomach twisted in revulsion, feeling him touch her that way and knowing there was nothing she could do about it. Centurion had had his way with her and now to be pawed by this common lowlife, how could this be happening. A soft moan of despair escaped her lips as that calloused hand continued to tug on her firm breasts.

"Yeahhhh," he sighed, possibly mistaking the intent of her moan. "I know what the boss was doing up here with YOU!" He risked a quick look out the door, pushing it shut with his foot. "Come on, cunt. How about giving up some sugar for a real man?"

If you were half the man...she could not finish the thought.

The painful pressure in the heroine's hair forced her down on her knees, while at the same time his free hand reached under his tunic and undid his trousers. The garment fell to the floor, leaving Victory at eye level with the henchman's dangling penis and hairy testicles.

NO! Not this! she thought, trying to pull away. Please no, anything but that!



The henchman's grip tightened on her head, shoving her face practically against his gonads. "I ain't got all day!" he snapped, yanking at her hair so hard it brought tears to her eyes. "Get on with it!"

Another yank forced Victory's mouth open and Big Mouth shoved in nearly his entire package. Nearly retching at the sudden unpleasant taste, she reached up, her soft trembling hands inadvertently cupping his balls, which caused his pecker to instantly spring upright gagging her! Breathless, just wanting it to be over, Victory leaned forward, pressing her full lips against the vile thing. Gingerly she took hold of his shaft with her fingers, stroking him while her tongue timidly slid the length of it.

"You can do better than that, skank," the henchman grumbled impatiently, giving her head another jerk. "Don't make me get rough!"

At this point submission was her only option. Victory closed her eyes, trying to imagine that it was the Centurion's cock she was going down on. She shifted closer, caressing his willy with her face, rubbing it against the smooth, silken skin of her cheeks and her jawline. She could feel little spasms of delight twitching his wiener.

"Mmmm yes," she whispered, her tongue darting out to lick him over and under, "ooooh yes..." Her soft, rosy lips parted as her mouth engulfed his shiny bulbous knob once again

.

"Yeah!" the thug moaned, his hips rocking back and forth. "That's the ticket! Suck me! Suck me off!"

Jordin's lips constricted around his cock sucking as her head bobbed up and down, up and down, her fine white teeth raking his pulsating tool as she ate him alive... All at once he released, ejaculating a huge squirt of cum. The heroine felt the stickiness in her mouth and tried to pull away.

"Take it, take it!" Big Mouth clamped down, pulling her head all the way into his crotch as he unloaded into her helpless mouth! He came until she thought she might drown in his jism but still she would not swallow...not for this man! Finally he relaxed enough for Victory to pull back, sputtering out the nasty stuff with a grimace. The henchman's eyes were closed in ecstasy.

"Ohgod that was great!" he groaned, loosening his grip on her hair. "I'm gonna have to let you do that again, sweetcheeks!"

"Fat chance, loser!" the superheroine said, twisting out of his grasp and yanking his arm behind him.

Big Mouth struggled to regain control, but with his pants down around his ankles, he didn't have a chance. A strong shove sent him stumbling over the desk, where he crashed to the floor with his legs comically flailing in the air. Victory was already out the door and latching it behind her!

Chapter 7

On the other side of the building, Clarise Strickland had opened the case and taken out the Orpheus device. It was about two feet long, gunmetal gray in color, shaped rather like a flat squarish rifle.

"You know," she said musingly, "I'm having second thoughts about selling this thing."

The Centurion was leaning against one of the thick concrete support pillars, with his arms folded across his chest. "I don't care what you do with it," he said, his mind on the delicious superheroine he had left upstairs, "as long as I get the other half of my fee." His other three henchmen nodded in agreement.

"Oh, don't worry about your money," Strickland said, hefting the device with both hands, as though getting the feel of it. "I was only thinking with this weapon I could be a supervillain! All I need is a tight, revealing costume and a name. Something classical... something like... The Siren! I mean, if a slacker like Jordin Tyler can be a superheroine, how difficult can it be?"

The three henchmen perked up at the mention of a revealing costume but the Centurion only sighed. "I think you underestimate Jordin Tyler at your own peril!"

"Oh pish!" the beautiful engineer scoffed, sighting down the device's waveguide projector as if it were a gunbarrel. "Look how easily we defeated.." She broke off suddenly. "Do you hear something?"

The Centurion had indeed picked up a low hum, like the purr of a well-tuned engine. It seemed to be coming from... No... it couldn't be...

With a sudden roar, the Victorycycle appeared, its beautiful, purple-clad rider hunched over the handle bars as it jumped over one of the rusting machines. At the top of its arc, a mini-rocket fired from the front of the chassis. The projectile opened up into a web-bomb, which neatly netted the three henchmen, who were still frozen in panic. The Centurion smiled in grudging admiration and then he had to throw himself flat on his face unless he wanted to get run over.

The Victorycycle hit the floor, bounced once, and skidded to a stop next to the packing crate. The alluring superheroine leaped gracefully and snatched up her power belt, striking her cockiest pose as she latched in around her trim, luscious waist.

"OK, Centurion!" she snarled confidently. "What do you say we make it best two out of three?"

The Centurion was on his feet, drawing the eighteen-inch wooden rod from his belt. "I wouldn't have it any other way, enchantress."

Victory leaped down from the crate and watched his approach warily, well aware that her super strength was the only thing she had going for her. The Centurion was much better at fighting than she was, and she hadn't had time to put on her bracelets. With his impact-absorbing armor, simply trading punches would get her nowhere. Above all, she couldn't let him get close enough to snag her power belt!

He moved in swiftly. As the rod slashed towards her, the nubile young heroine managed to duck, but the Centurion spun around, clocking her on the side of the head with the back of his leather-clad fist.

"Uhn!" Victory staggered, seeing stars.

She felt his hands grab her slender waist and realized he was trying to take her power belt. Almost in panic, she swung her right elbow back, catching him a blow that sent him tumbling backward. The villain pressed his attack, keeping her on the defensive. Victory aimed a kick which he parried easily, then he whirled, bringing his wooden rod around in a sharp slap on her gorgeous, spandex-clad derriere. The sexy superlady yelped, clutching her bottom.

"I can't tell you how much I enjoyed you earlier," he said casually. "And how I'm looking forward to taking you again."

"Don't count on it!" she answered.

This time when he advanced, Victory charged to meet him. When he swung the baton, instead of dodging it, she deflected it with her forearm. It hurt like anything, but the spunky superheroine gritted her teeth and caught his wrist, yanking him forward so that she could slam the flat of her left hand into his face. The impact stunned Centurion. Reaching down, she grabbed his muscular legs and tossed him into the air, where he crashed head first into the open cockpit of his chariot. He groaned but didn't get up.

"Beware the Ides of March!" Victory smirked, brushing off her hands smugly. She wasted no time in getting back to the packing crate and putting on her bracelets of defense. She looked around for her mask but couldn't find it anywhere.

"Is this what you're looking for?" Strickland said, stepping out from behind the panel truck. She was wearing Victory's mask. She was also holding the Orpheus device.

"Dr. Strickland," Victory said, "you want to put that thing down before you hurt somebody."

"Exactly my intention!" said Strickland, taking aim and firing.

Victory ducked behind the packing crate. The ultrasonic beam missed her, blasting a basketball sized hole straight through the wood.

I can't believe it works, Victory thought. And she's cranked it up to LETHAL intensity!

Even the near miss sent quivers throughout the nubile young heroine's lissome body. She didn't dare try to deflect the beam with her bracelets! Victory jumped on top of another crate as Strickland swept her weapon to track her. Again the beam missed, striking the corrugated roof of the factory with a jagged explosion of tin and glass.

Strickland scowled, "Hold still, blast you!"

"You can't blast what you can't hit," Victory replied, doing a rolling dive just under the beam.

Strickland's aim was so bad, she punched a hole in her own getaway vehicle. Her next shot blew apart the big outside doors, and then the heroine heard a sickly whine from the Orpheus device.

"Fuck!" Strickland swore, fumbling with the gun. "The power supply fused! Stupid thing!"

"Aw, isn't that just too bad?" Victory stood just in front of her with her hands on her hips. "Do you feel like giving up now, or do I have to get persuasive?"

Before Strickland could answer, an Army helicopter appeared hovering just outside the gaping hole in the wall where the double doors used to be.

"Don't either of you move!" the pilot commanded them over his aircraft's loudspeakers. "We have you covered!"

Victory turned and gave the men a reassuring wave, then realized that she didn't have her mask on! Quickly she turned to Strickland.

"I believe this is MINE," she said, snatching her mask and putting it on.

The older woman gave her a somewhat sheepish grin. Within moments, two Army Hummels had pulled up outside the factory building.

"I have a proposition for you, Miss Tyler," Strickland said quickly knowing they hadn't any time to lose. "If you won't tell that I conspired to steal the Orpheus project, I won't give away your secret identity. Do we have a deal?"

A pit of dread dropped into Victory's stomach. It was a no win situation. Even back to full strength the young heroine began to feel as small as she had when Clarise was reprimanding her as a Junior Consultant. She turned on the older woman angrily. In truth the heroine only had one option, after all her secret identity was for the protection of her loved ones, not her own.

"Fine, I'll keep your secret," Victory growled through grit teeth. "If you'll keep mine!"

"It's a deal!" the older woman agreed smiling broadly.

I've bested the Centurion and ensured that the Orpheus will not fall into the hands of America's enemies, Victory tried to reassure herself. An yet I've still been defeated... by Dr. Clarise Strickland, of all people!

Private Dancer

It was a moonlit spring night. Jordin Tyler had been kept very late at work with a lot of tedious paperwork. At eleven o'clock she felt too tired to go out, but didn't feel like staying at home watching television. Fortunately Jordin had the perfect way to blow off steam. A quick trip to the bedroom to change, and the young woman emerged as VICTORY, the city's most powerful superheroine!

Her trim, athletic body was now clad in silver heeled boots, a pair of tight purple hot pants, and a matching halter top with her "V" emblem sitting proudly over her gorgeous bust. Jordin quickly slipped on her invincible bracelets and her silver power belt, studying her reflection in the mirror as she turned first to one side, then the other. Putting on her mask, she was ready to hit the streets.

She cruised the hills overlooking the city on the Victorycycle, loving the way the wind fluttered her luxurious brunette tresses and the way the saddle of her big machine throbbed against her smooth inner thighs. Even though she had come out "on patrol" it quickly became a pleasure trip...as if she didn't have care in the world.

Ahhh this is more like it! The heroine thought contentedly. I could drive like this for hours!

Suddenly Victory hit the brakes in front of the mansion of Olympia Keaton James, the famous movie star. Although the stunning superlady knew for a fact that the actress was in Acapulco making a movie, there were lights on in the house! Victory smiled. She had mellowed just enough that a quick tussle with a couple of burglars would be welcome.

She pulled into a narrow access road next to the stone wall that surrounded the house. According to the Victorycycle's sensors, the security system was down. Without hesitation, the spunky supergirl stood up on the seat and leaped over the wall. Landing catlike, she sprinted up to the house. Aha, she knew it! The sliding glass door leading to the living room was open, and two men in dark cloaks were standing guard! Their attention was focused watching the driveway, so it was child's play for Victory to creep right up and tap them both on the shoulder.
"Hey there, boys, what's shaking?"

Both men turned to her with comically surprised expressions. Victory gave them time to draw billy-clubs from their belts, easily blocking their clumsy attacks with her invincible bracelets. Then her slender body twirled like a dancer as she punched one in the jaw, at the same time swinging her alluring leg to deliver a side kick to the other! Thanks to the super strength behind the blows, the sassy superheroine stood over two unconscious bodies.

If these two were on guard, she thought to herself, there must be others inside the house.

She paused before heading inside, her flawless eyebrows rising as she noticed the uniforms the men were wearing underneath their dark cloaks... off white tunics and trousers in the style of Roman soldiers!

These are the Centurion's men! She realized. The Roman tunics are his calling card, alright!

The last time she had faced Centurion he had caught her off guard and managed to put the heroine in quite a compromising position. Even though she had beaten the villain in their final encounter, she could forget what he had done to her when she had been helpless...how it had made her feel having his way with her...Victory shook her head, clearing such thoughts. This time she would be ready!

Victory raced inside. Sure enough standing in the living room was a tall, muscular man dressed like a Roman centurion complete with breastplate and helmet! He was standing before a high security, bulletproof display cabinet fiddling with a small tool. He had just finished tripping the lock as Victory entered and he turned to look at her.

"Ah, Victory!" he said, taking off his helmet and smiling as his gaze ran appreciatively over her attractive curves. "A pleasure and a delight to the eyes as always, my beautiful arch-enemy!"

"Save it, Centurion!" the superheroine replied, color rising to her cheeks in spite of herself. She crossed her arms over her bust. "You know that you're no match for me! Why don't you save me the trouble of beating you up and surrender?"

"That would be no fun at all," he said, suddenly pouncing on her.

Victory raised her bracelets defensively, but the villain didn't draw a weapon. Instead his muscular arms wrapped around her svelte figure in some kind of wrestling hold. It was unexpected, despite his powerful build as long she had her super strength he was no match physically for her. Then she felt his hands slip around the curve of her alluring waist, trying to get at her power belt!

"Oh no you don't!" the sexy superbabe said, catching his wrists in the nick of time. "Look but don't touch, Centurion!"

The villain smiled disarmingly. "Oh you lovely minx," he said, straining to reach her, "surely you can't blame a man for wanting to get his hands on your body?"

Victory felt her cheeks blushing, remembering how the Centurion had already had his hands on her once before. A small part of her wanted to be taken by him again, longed for it. She had to bite her lip to keep from giving in...especially this close, her senses filled with his masculine musk...

"I could care less how horny you are," she said smugly. "Just keep those hands to yourself!"

Thanks to Victory's super strength, it was no great feat to hold on to his wrists and keep his hands away from her power belt. However, being a male, he outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds. She felt her boot heels slip an inch or two on the carpet as he manuevered her lissome body backwards in the direction of the sofa. Uh-oh!

Taking advantage of her distraction, he suddenly twisted free, reaching down to pluck a weapon from his belt. The next thing the gorgeous superheroine knew, he had caught her from behind, her sleek, spandex-clad body pressed tight against his chest with an eighteen inch wooden rod pinned across her lovely swan-like throat!

"This is nice, isn't it?" he whispered into her ear, his free hand feeling up her right breast through the thin fabric of her uniform.

"I... said..." Victory gasped, driving her elbow backwards and breaking the choke hold. "Hands OFF!" In an instant, the superheroine had grabbed his arm and flipped him into the front of the bulletproof display cabinet with a crash!

The impact jarred the cabinet, causing an exquisite object of pure white crystal to topple out the open door, where the Centurion caught it gently in both hands. It was shaped like a woman's face with a dancing figure carved on the right cheek. It looked priceless!

Victory halted in her tracks. "Put that down, Centurion! Nice and easy!"

He was holding it reverently. "I don't intend to harm it, enchantress. This is the Mask of Terpsichore, the Muse of Dance. Once owned by the Emperor Constantine."

"It's lovely," Victory said absently, her mind more on inching closer without making him drop it.

"Yes it is," the Centurion said. "And it also has one very interesting property." He raised it high over his head. Just then the light of the full moon came through the skylight, reflecting off the mask and flashing across Victory's bright green eyes!

It wasn't particularly bright, and yet that reflected moonlight held the stunning superheroine spellbound. Her mouth dropped open and every muscle seemed to go limp as she stood staring at the glowing mask, hypnotized! Then she could hear music... From far away, seemingly carried by the moonbeams themselves, a wonderful melody poured into her ears. As it grew, it seemed to twine throughout her body, making her tingle all over. Her arms and legs began to twitch.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the Centurion said. "Why don't you dance for me?"

"Nnno! I... wwon't," Victory said, struggling to resist the urge to do just that.

"You can't fight it," the villain said, carefully setting the Mask of Terpsichore on a nearby table. "Dance!"

"Can't... fight it," the beautiful superheroine echoed.

The music was addicting, intoxicating. Victory couldn't stop herself. Her body began to slowly sway, her arms lifting as her right leg rose and she threw herself into a graceful pirouette. She felt like a music box ballerina. The music controlled her, subjugating her to the Centurion's will. The harder she tried to resist, the deeper under its spell she seemed to fall.

"Come here," the Centurion commanded, and her body obeyed helplessly.

She twirled over and halted in front of him, poised on her toes, her arms spread, her limbs quivering with suppressed urge to be moving. He came up behind her and took off her bracelets. Then he took her bare wrists and slid his hands all the way down her smooth arms. He was so close that she could feel the heat of his body and the gentle pressure of his lips as he kissed her soft, bare shoulder. Her eyes closed, skin shivering with his touch. He followed the sweet curves of her breasts, her torso, her belly, and finally his hands encircled her slender waist as he unfastened her power belt and removed it!

"Nnnno," Victory whimpered, immobile and weak and helpless to resist his will as he stripped her of her weapons. "Stop! Please stop!"

"Now that your fangs are drawn," he said, "dance for me!"

Again her body obeyed, like a marionette with no will of its own. Victory sank gracefully to one knee while she unzipped her boot and took it off. Then she switched to the other leg. Now barefoot, she rose up on her toes and began to oscillate from side to side like a charmed cobra, her hips bumping. She swirled over to him, dancing around him in circles, drawing closer with each circuit, close enough to reach out and brush her hands flirtatiously at his loose clothing.

The Centurion's eyes tried to follow Victory's eyes as she undulated seductively around him, but her body was too distracting. Her two piece costume clung delicately to the luscious roundness of her breasts and her pert buttocks. He reached out and almost grabbed that tempting little booty, but with a little jiggle, she snatched her tail tantalizingly out of reach.

Victory paused, dancing in place as she removed her mask. Her heart was pounding. The exertion was making her feel warm, her skin kissed by a moist sheen of perspiration. She slinked closer, making another circuit around him, hands touching his broad shoulders as she passed behind him, leaving her mask in his hands as she moved in front of him again.

Victory swayed alluringly as she reached behind her and undid her halter top! She struggled to stop this humiliating strip-tease, but the music had her completely under the Centurion's control. And then she was facing him again, hugging her top to her bust while she glissaded closer, closer, until, his eyes locked onto hers as she passed behind him, she dropped the garment into his waiting arms! Now she was spinning off to a safe distance, with her arms raised out to either side, leaving her wonderful naked breasts free to jiggle enticingly with every movement!

The Centurion was also sweating now. Licking his lips, he raised her empty halter top to his face, smelling the warm, fragrant aroma from her exquisite body on it. Quickly he took off his breastplate and weapons belt. There was a brief distraction as his two henchmen appeared in the doorway, their eyes bugging out with astonishment, but a harsh command sent them out of the room again. This was for his eyes only!

Victory's body was quivering all over. She wanted to touch herself, caress her breasts or hide them from view, but she was powerless. She knew the Centurion's eyes were drinking in the sight of her body, following her every move, wanting her. Just outside his reach, she faced away from him, spreading her legs and gyrating her hips seductively back and forth, knowing that he was probably staring at her peach-like ass and loving every second of it.

"Oh please don't make me," she moaned, as her thumbs slid into the waistband of her hot pants.

Absent of her own will, Victory gently slipped them over her hips! Her gorgeous rear end was still bobbing from side to side as she leaned way over, letting her pants slide down her long, elegant legs, leaving only the white line of her flimsy thong panties. She stepped out of her shorts, snatched them up and once more began her sensual pirouette.

By now close to exhaustion, Victory was no longer entirely sure if it WAS the music controlling her! Her body moved on its own. Swirling around and around, she let her hot pants trail in the air as she spun closer and closer to him. When she finally ran out of steam, she spun to stop on her knees at his feet, gasping for breath, her final garment held up like an offering.

"Please, Master," she gasped. "What is your desire?"

"My green-eyed slave girl," the Centurion said, taking her pants and throwing them aside, "what I desire right now is your juicy snatch!"

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to the guest bedroom. Plopping her on the bed, he took hold of her thong panties and pulled them off. The flimsy white nylon whispered over the skin of her legs, her ankles, and then it was gone.

How could this have happened so quickly? Victory wondered as she lay there nude. Is it really some form of mind control...or does part of me want this??

The superheroine feared the answer. What should have been a simple confrontation with a couple of common burglars had ended with her defeated and helpless! The Centurion pulled off his tunic and shorts and climbed onto the bed, his mouth resting on her navel, kissing, sucking her tender flesh. Her body squirmed under him as he continued tracing a path upwards, over her ribs to the valley between her nubile young breasts.

"Ohhhhh nooo," the defenseless superheroine groaned as his lips touched her nipples. "Please..."

Adrenalin rushed through Victory's bloodstream at the sight of his bare chest. Her hands reached up on their own, touching him, caressing his rippling muscles. His strong hand gripped her firm C-cup, squeezing and twisting, causing her pink nub to stand up like a tiny top hat! Victory could not hold back a moan, rolling her slim hips against his rock hard body. In that moment the superheroine surrendered, whether to the magical mask or her own desire she did not want to know!

"Oh please," she begged, "Please, I want you..."

"Jordin, my harem girl," he whispered, kissing her graceful neck, "your breasts are as sweet as grapes, your flower is honey and wine..."

Her thighs parted for him, revealing the heroine's vulnerable soft spot, prim and shaven. She could not have kept her knees together to save her life. However the villain climbed off of her, instead taking her by the waist and flipping her face down on the bed. Victory raised her pert backside like a cat in heat, his hands slapped her naked tail as he forced her thighs apart. One hand moved in between her legs, two fingers gliding along the lips of her succulent cooz.

"ooooooohhh," she moaned, her whole body trembling in anticipation, "please don't... don't tease me..."

He mounted her from behind, his body pressed against her while his hardness felt for the dripping wet opening of her shaved pussy. He coupled with her, gave a hard PUSH, and "OHHHHHHHH!" he hissed with pleasure as his cock slid moistly into her tunnel!

"Aahhh!" the heroine cried out.

It hurt a little bit, coming in from this angle, but the pain only made her want it more, for some reason made her CRAVE it! She tried to brace herself, curling her fingers into the sheets looking for some kind of purchase. Her thighs spread to accommodate his deep thrusts, each one rocking her slender body, while his big hands found her tits, fondling, squeezing, pinching her nipples.

"Please don't... don't stop..." she gasped, bucking against his thrusts with her own eagerness.

Centurion's hands slid down her slim torso, taking a firm grip on her narrow hips as he increased the tempo. A surge of molten heat rushed through her body and the heroine could not hold back a shuddery moan, feeling like nothing more than his plaything. His throbbing tool drove into her like a well-oiled piston, in and out, pumping, pumping, humping... The superheroine felt shame wash over her, how could she allow this villain to have her yet again? She was helpless, true, but now her body responded in kind, wanting him, needing him, begging for him to plow her harder...HARDER...

"Harder..." Victory mewled. "Harder!"

"Oh Mighty Jupiter!" Centurion cried out as he came with a final powerful thrust!

Feeling the grip on her hips tighten, pulling her fully onto his throbbing shaft as the rush of warmth erupted into her helpless body, Victory climaxed hard, crying out; "OH GOD YES!!!"

Victory's head was spinning. She gasped as Centurion pulled out of her, the sensation of him sliding out as titillating as when he slid in. Finally, spent and used, the heroine's body gave in and she collapsed onto the bed, her mind swimming in post coital bliss.

The next thing Jordin knew, morning sunlight was filtering through the windows. She lay cuddled in the tangled bed sheets, hugging the pillow, as the events of the night came flooding back.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, suddenly sitting upright. "It's dawn!?"

She was all alone in a movie star's bed, and some kind of beeping alarm was going off somewhere. Jordin hunted around for her thong panties, but couldn't seem to find them anywhere. Stark naked, she ran back into the living room. The sliding door was still open, letting in the early morning cool, but the security system was armed again. The monitor next to the living room door showed a car moving slowly up the driveway!

Oh no! Of course, she's home early! Victory thought, immediately recognizing Olympia Keaton James's Mercedes.

Victory frantically began hunting up her clothing and wriggling into it, one garment at a time. Halter top... hot pants... boots... mask... power belt and bracelets... Only when she was dressed did she find her thong panties, somehow out here in the living room, but by then...

"VICTORY!" said a female voice. "You're out early! What are you doing here?" Two women were standing just inside the sliding door, the owner of the house and her assistant.

"Miss James!" the superheroine gasped, guiltily hiding her thong behind her. "Um... your door was open..." It was a lame excuse and she knew it. She tried to get ahold of herself. "I spotted some suspicious characters lurking around, and I..."

Oh God, Jordin thought! The Centurion! How am I going to explain that the supervillain has stolen her no doubt priceless Mask of Terpsichore...or worse that I couldn't stop him because I was too busy getting plowed like Old Macdonald's backyard?

She turned automatically to the display cabinet, only to find that it was locked up tight, the mask had been returned to its spot, seemingly safe and sound. A Post-it note was stuck to the glass. It read: "In memory of a truly AMAZING evening... C"

Victory snatched off the note and balled it up before anyone else could see it. Miss James and her assistant were wandering around the room, taking inventory.

"Well, nothing appears to be missing," the actress said. "I suppose when they saw YOU, they screamed in panic and ran away. I know I would if I were a burglar."

Victory cleared her throat. "Could be..."

The superheroine turned away from the two women, hoping they wouldn't notice her blushing. There had definitely been screaming involved, but to the best of her recollection, it hadn't been from panic.

THE END...

Let's Get Physical

Jordin Tyler turned off her computer, stood up from her desk, stretching her lean lissome body. Here R&D team were working on a new type of scanning device for the Department of Homeland Security, as the team member with the least seniority (though she suspected it had more to do with being a woman), guess who was stuck writing up the tedious evaluation reports? On top of that, she had wasted half the day waiting to brief an outside consultant, but the dork had never showed!

Five o'clock! While most people poured into the parking lot to go home, Jordin made sure her big heavy-rimmed glasses were in place and headed for the company gymnasium. In the ladies locker room, the young engineer changed into a purple and black sport bra and black spandex yoga tights. Leaving her bracelets in her locker, she put her long brunette hair up in a ponytail and joined a blonde secretary named Kayley for a stretching workout.

A couple of guys were already on the machines, pumping away and flexing their muscles, which practically had Kayley (dressed in a pink crop top and shorts) drooling. As they paired off on their mats, Jordin was happy to let the other girl face the men while she turned her back to them. They had a long workout, stretching, twisting, jumping and running in place until their tight young bodies were both glistening with perspiration.

"Don't look now," Kayley said suddenly, "but there's a hunk checking you out."

"Really?" Jordin said indifferently, setting her glasses more firmly. She had a firm rule about workplace romances. She didn't even turn around.

"I don't recognize him," Kayley went on. "He must be a consultant."

"Finally?" Jordin snorted. "I've been talking to his voice mail all day!" She already had him pictured as some skinny nerd reeking of Axe, with patched glasses and high-water pants.

At the edge of the exercise floor were two men, one with his back to them. The other was Mr. Ridley, one of the company's high muckamucks, dressed in a tuxedo. "Miss Tyler!" he said. "This is Malcolm Gordon, the freelance consultant here to look at the Argos Project. Could you show him around? I'm running late for my daughter's recital."

"Of course, Mr. Ridley," Jordin started to say, but her mouth dropped open and her vocal cords seemed to freeze up. Malcolm Gordon was six foot one and built like a dream! He was wearing Gucci loafers and a brown Armani suit without a tie. Jordin heard Kayley suck in her breath at his masculine gorgeousness even as she felt her own heart beat faster, her blood singing and her vagina quivering with arousal.
And then he turned to face her. That clean-shaven chin, that short brown hair, and especially those hazel eyes were all familiar to her! It was the Centurion!

He recognized her too, of course. The supervillain had seen Victory unmasked the first time they had battled. Jordin instinctively reached for the bracelets which transformed her into superpowerful champion of justice, but her wrists were bare. She had left them in her locker!

"Er... hhow dddo you do..." Jordin managed to stammer. She heard Kayley giggle like a schoolgirl, completely misinterpreting the reason for her befuddlement. It was a superheroine's worst nightmare -- caught without her powers by her archenemy!

Jordin was frozen in near panic. What was she going to DO? She could tell that the Centurion he was enjoying her distress. She couldn't denounce him without revealing her own secret identity. Meanwhile his eyes were admiring the swell of her breasts and the slim curves of her bare midriff, her skin still moist and slightly flushed from her exercise, then roaming down her elegant legs clad in her spandex tights.

"Splendid!" said Mr. Ridley, inadvertently breaking the spell. "I'd better get cracking or my daughter will kill me." As he quickly strode off in his formal suit, Jordin suddenly realized what she could do.

"Kayley," she gushed, "would you keep Mr. Gordon entertained while I put on something more appropriate?" And without a pause, she made a break for the women's locker room.

Twenty seconds later Jordin was standing beside her open locker, whisking off her glasses and shaking her hair out of its ponytail. She quickly reached behind her to undo her sport bra. At that point she heard a husky male voice say, "Here, let me help you with that."

Jordin spun around in surprise just as the bra clasp came undone! The Centurion had followed her! Gasping aloud with the outrage of a man catching her changing, she could only clutch the little spandex garment in front of her firm C-cups as she backed away. "What are you doing in here? This is a women's--" She broke off, darting a terrified glance into her open locker where her bracelets were sitting on the shelf in plain sight, but out of reach! He couldn't have caught her more vulnerable if he had planned it!

The Centurion had seen them too. "What a pleasant surprise, Victory," he said, as a grin came over his face. "And I seem to have caught you without those annoying superpowers!" Slamming the locker door shut before she could do anything, he advanced upon her. "Why couldn't you have gone home at five o'clock like you were supposed to? I would have been free to recon the place without interference. Why do you think I avoided you all day?"

He reached out to grab her. Jordin had to do something! Desperately she brought up her knee into his groin, striking him right on target. As he let out a gasp of agony, she dropped downward out of his clutches, leaving her bra behind in his hands as she slipped past him and wrenched open the locker door. Scooping up her bracelets, she darted down the aisle between the lockers, frantically putting them on and hoping she had time.

She reached the shower room, which was thankfully empty. Clashing her bracelets together, Jordin triggered the energy burst which changed her. A second later, she was VICTORY, the city's most powerful superheroine! Now clad in a clingy purple halter top, hot pants and mask, silver boots, and her silver power belt, she turned to face the oncoming villain. "OK Centurion!" she said smugly, "it's just you and me! I'm going to trounce you so badly, you'll be speaking pig Latin."

He had also taken the opportunity to change into his costume -- leather boots, a short white tunic in the style of a Roman officer, a bronze helmet with a red plume, and a weapons belt. The only thing missing was his armored breastplate. "Brave words, enchantress," he said, drawing his short sword and igniting the energy sheath like St. Elmo's fire around its blade. "Do you have the power to back them up?"

He lunged. Victory brought up her wrists and deflected his sword with her invincible protective bracelets, but even then she felt a tingle of electric current ripple down her arm! It wasn't much, but enough to tell her that she did NOT want that thing to hit her unprotected body!

The Centurion swept towards her again. Victory parried, tried to follow through with a punch of her own, but the villain kept her on the defensive. He stayed out of reach even as his sword swished past her again, too close for comfort. Jordin was glad for the workout she had just had. Her legs and ass felt tight and buff. All she could do was wait for the chance to use her kickboxing skills.

At last she saw an opening. He had reached just a little too far, enabling the heroine to swing her left arm over and bring her bracelet down on his sword. As it clattered to the tile floor of the shower room, her shapely silken leg came up and caught him with a kick that knocked his helmet off! The Centurion wasn't stunned, but he was sent to his knees.

"Well, well, looks like it's over," Victory smirked, planting her trim young body. "We both know you're no match for me without this little toy." The sword's energy sheath had gone out. Smugly she reached down and picked it up by its hilt.

The sword, not recognizing the biometric signature of its master, flared again, sending ten thousand volts through the cocky superheroine's lissome frame. Victory cried out as every muscle in her nubile body twitched and spasmed from the current, rising her up on her tip-toes. Then she went limp as a ragdoll, dropping the sword and pitching forward.

The Centurion was there to catch her. She felt the overpowering strength of his hands enfolding her slender waist as she fell helplessly into his waiting arms. Her nubile body was paralyzed, trembling with weakness as she lolled against his magnificent male frame. "Ah, sweet enchantress," he said complacently, "you didn't suspect my weapons would have safe-guards? Once again I have you exactly where I want you."

Jordin couldn't mistake the sensual feel of his touch, the rigid organic bump between his legs pressed against her. "Centurion, no!" she protested weakly, as goosebumps sprang up on her skin. "You'd better not be thinking-- mmmmm!" She got no further because his mouth was over hers, his tongue invading her lips and playing sweet havoc with her senses.

She felt his hands removing her power belt and bracelets. This couldn't be happening! As her weapons were taken away from her, the stunning superheroine felt her powers desert her. Without them, she was just a girl, defenseless and totally at his mercy! The Centurion finished the kiss and licked his lips. "Mmmm, you're so delicious!" he said. "I'm going to have to taste the rest of you!"

"Don't!" Victory whimpered, struggling to make her body obey her. "Please don't!" Without another word, the villain threw her helpless body over his shoulder and carried her back to the locker room. Easing her down on one of the benches, he started undressing her. First her silver boots. Next her purple halter top, letting her supple melons jiggle free and unprotected as he threw it aside. Jordin tried to resist, but her arms were as weak as a child's. "Stop it, please stop it," she begged as he bent forward, kissing her nipples while his hands moved further down, tracing the curve of her torso. Her skin was slippery, salty with her perspiration.

"Ohhh you green-eyed little minx," the Centurion panted, as he pulled down her hot pants and her thong together and spread her legs so that he could gaze at her pink, shaven pussy. Victory could feel the paralysis starting to wear off, but it was too late. He was sliding her panties over her ankles and tossing them away. Then his hands followed the silky smoothness of her legs back upwards, his fingers sliding in between her thighs to caress her soft pubic mound.

A delicious tingle of outright fear shivered Victory's spine when she remembered that they were in a public place! Anyone could walk in at any time and CATCH them like this! "Please don't," she whispered. "Someone might..." And then he was on top of her again. Somehow he had taken off his tunic and shorts, and she forgot everything but the electrifying thrill of his hands on her tender flesh, his lips sucking on her nipples.

Now that she was able to move again, her own hands couldn't resist touching him, splaying over his bare chest, massaging his sweating muscles. They seemed to have a mind of their own as they glided over the bumps of his killer abs, reaching between his legs until they found his hot, rigid manhood. Without thinking, she wrapped one hand around his yankee doodle and gave him one long stroke...

"Great Jupiter, Jordin!" he groaned. "Don't do that! I can't concentrate..." He disengaged himself, sliding down in between her creamy thighs as he dove face-first into her moist, juicy snatch.

"Yes! OhGodyesss," Victory moaned. His hands held her legs apart as she felt his mouth eating her muff, his tongue sliding into her succulent slit, teasing, torturing her. Fireworks went off in her head, her loins quivering as her vagina gave an exquisite spasm of ecstasy.

But he wasn't finished. The bench was too narrow for a standard missionary position, so he spun her body around and sat with his back braced against the wall. Then, with his feet planted on the floor for leverage, he pulled her into his lap astraddle his cock, one long leg hooked over his shoulder to give him deeper penetration. His thighs flexed, his hands on her breasts while he sheathed his shaft smoothly into her pussy.

"Ohhhyes!" Victory cried as his HARD nine-inch tool plowed through the soft folds of her labia! "Ohplease! Please!" Their bodies meshed together, both lubricated and slick with the juices of their lust. Jordin wrapped her hands around his neck to steady her as she rode his wonderful pole, in and out, in and out. thrusting, boning, rubbing her g-spot with every pass! "Harder!" she moaned, "please, please harder! HARDER!!"

After what seemed like an eternity, she felt rather than heard him give a deep hiss of satisfaction as he climaxed, spewing what felt like a PINT of thick, hot semen into her, at the same time fireworks exploded inside her. He pulled out, letting the sticky stream shoot onto her belly, pumping more and more as if he were never going to stop!

Jordin collapsed onto the bench, feeling as weak as a kitten. She wanted to just lie here and catch her breath, but a sharp rap-rap signalled the opening of the locker room door. At the same time someone's cell phone rang. "Yeah?" they heard Kayley's voice say from around the blind corner of the entrance. "Hey, Todd! Just on my way now! Yeah, I'm looking forward to it..."

The Centurion had already gathered up his clothes. "Saved by the bell, sweet enchantress," he whispered. "I don't suppose I'll be able to complete my reconnaissance tonight! Until next time, then." And he was gone through the service exit.

Jordin barely had time to frantically stash her Victory uniform inside her locker (remembering just in the nick of time that she still had her mask on!) and grab a towel before Kayley came breezing in. "Sorry to burst in on you," the blonde said, opening up her own locker. "Is your stud gone already?"

Jordin felt her cheeks flushing bright red as she thought how dangerously close she had come to being caught in the act! "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't try to kid ME," Kayley laughed, wriggling out of her exercise clothes. "I showed him the stair-stepper and tried to get him interested in my tight little buns, but it was obvious he only had eyes for you. He made some lame excuse, but the last I saw he was heading this way. Did you two have fun?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Jordin said haughtily, wrapping her towel around her as she made for the showers. She could still feel the Centurion's sticky cum all over her body.

>>>THE END

Sweet Dreams, or... Victory Gets Chloro'd!

***

It was a Thursday night, and Jordin Tyler was at the mall shopping for a wedding present for a college friend. She was wearing a white cotton blouse (comfortably taut across the bosom) and a pleated red and black woolen miniskirt. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, with a necktie loosely knotted around the collar. Kayley, her co-worker, had half-jokingly remarked that all she needed was the blazer and pigtails to complete the Catholic schoolgirl look! That insinuation had made Jordin blush, she hadn't even considered such a thing...Pausing to consider her reflection in the display case at the Buckle, she could totally see it now. Running one hand through her luxurious chestnut tresses, letting them cascade over her shoulders, the girl sighed...really though was that a bad thing?

Don't guys...Ok, ok focus girl, Jordin told herself silently. What am I going to get Kristen?

Kristen was an old college friend, she was getting married this autumn but had invited Jordin to an engagement party...why she wasn't sure, they weren't even that close really. More like old college acquaintances. Do you even get people a gift for engagement parties? Well she sure wasn't going to show up without a gift... and alone... She let that thought hang in her mind, not wanting to admit that the real reason for her resentment was the idea of an old friend getting married and in Capitol City...because it sure seemed, at least in the parts of Capitol City Jordin frequented, good men were awfully thin on the ground.

Maybe something from Victoria's Secret? she thought, not wanting to be that kind of girl.

Jordin paused by the window to look at the female mannequins dressed in skimpy lingerie. Her eye was drawn to a larger than life poster of Brazilian supermodel Alessandra Ambrosio looking incrrrredibly sexy in a sequined purple bra and cheekster panties set that reminded her an awful lot of her own Victory costume! That was part of the problem. In her off hours, Jordin was secretly the city's premiere superheroine! How could she settle for an ordinary man when she was strong enough to lift a truck and fast enough to dodge bullets?

Her eyes drifted back to the huge poster, more than a little envious. Why couldn't be a super sexy underwear model?

She turned away and found herself face to face with a startlingly shiny black sports car parked in the center court. It was the newest model from SAAB, called the Spartan. Her eyes glided over the sleek lines, the convertible top and finally the silver logo of a Roman style helmet. As if from nowhere, a strange sensation made her heart go pitter-pat... a mixture of pleasure and danger. Was it the car? Or did it just remind her of a certain gorgeous hunk of supervillain...?

Suddenly a man's arm snaked around her waist from behind. Caught unawares, Jordin felt her high heels skid as a man lifted her off the floor, clamping one hand over her mouth so that she couldn't scream, his other brawny forearm rubbing against, even crushing her supple breast through her flimsy cotton blouse as his grip tightened around her. This unknown assailant dragged her through a maintenance door so quickly Jordin knew no one could have noticed. Then he carried her down a dark hallway and with no chance to transform into her secret identity, the girl had no hope of resisting.

She was taken into an alcove of some kind... maybe a broom or storage closet...however Jordin was too focused on resisting her feminine urge to panic to determine exactly which. Her blouse came undone as she struggled, giving tantalizing glimpses of her pink bra. A door shut behind them and with no more danger of her screams alerting anyone, his hand wandered downward, pulling up Jordin's miniskirt and feeling around between her legs. The groping hand reached in between her thighs for her panties.

"Please, let me go," she moaned, feeling helpless in his clutches.

"No," the hoodlum whispered, his rough voice sending a chill down her spine.

Oh gawd, Jordin thought, feeling his hand gripping her pussy. This can't be happening...can't be...

It was completely unintentional on his part, however the way he was man-handling her was preventing Jordin from slamming her bracelet's together and becoming Victory. The hand under her skirt began to rub and massage, sending unwelcome tingles dancing up her torso. Jordin squirmed helplessly. Then she felt rough fingers moving her panties aside, and wriggling into the soft, defenseless folds of her labia. She groaned in disgust, knowing she could do nothing to stop this molestation, any pride she had dissolved.

"Please," Jordin begged. "You can have my purse...just please don't hurt me."

Suddenly she was spun around and pressed against a wall. Her attacker's brawny forearm pressed against her throat, tight but not choking. He was a hideously rugged man, with no kindness in his eyes.

"I'll take your purse when I'm done!" he snarled. "If you keep quiet...I'll only make you feel good, baby."

Before Jordin could respond he ripped her blouse completely open! The man stared at her fully exposed C-cups and pink bra. They were heaving with every breath as Jordin was still barely able to contain her panic. His free hand reached down tentatively, cupping and squeezing one firm melon. The hand slipped inside the cup of her bra, his fingers rough on her sensitive nipple, Jordin had to bite back a shuddery moan...she had to do something!

Just then something WHAPPED the thug on the side of the head, making him let go of her. While he was dazed, Jordin shrank back into a corner, clutching her torn and disheveled clothes around her.

"That was just to get your attention," said a male voice, low and dangerous. A man was standing silhouetted by the light coming down the breezeway. He was wearing a trenchcoat, which he let fall to the floor revealing -- Jordin gulped, feeling her heart quiver -- the uniform of a Roman Centurion!

"You shoulda went on to yer Halloween party, jackass," the thug sneered, drawing a huge, nasty-looking knife with black sawtoothed blade and a crooked point like a fang.

Jordin shivered with fright just looking at it! The Centurion didn't even seem to notice it.

"This is what I think of cowards who prey upon helpless women," he said calmly, as he stepped forward.

Jordin had seen the Centurion in action before, had seen him dispatch trained combat soldiers with ruthless efficiency. But as he fought this creep, every punch -- in the balls, the stomach, the back of the neck, the kidneys -- was calculated to cause pain. Only when the thug was on his knees literally sobbing and begging did he finally knock him out. With the bad guy strewn unconscious on the floor, the Centurion turned on his heel and walked away without another word.

He didn't even notice me, Jordin thought, feeling somehow even smaller at that realization. I thought...no, of course not...he would recognize this cowering helpless girl...ugh!

Jordin pulled herself together. What was he even doing here? Then she remembered the exhibition of rare Roman coins at Abercrombie and Finch! She pushed back the sleeves of her blouse,exposing the silvery bracelets that transformed her into the superheroine Victory. It seemed like a dirty trick after he had just rescued her, but after all he WAS a supervillain! In the back of her mind, a tiny little voice asked mockingly if that was the only reason she wanted to see him again, but she pushed it aside and clashed her bracelets together.

After the blinding flash of light had faded, Jordin Tyler had once again become VICTORY, clad in a daring two piece costume of purple Lycra -- her shapely tail covered by a pair of hip-hugging hotpants held up by her slightly off center power belt, her bust restrained by a halter top emblazoned with her trademark "V" with silver high heeled boots completing her look. She made sure her mask was in place and took off in pursuit.
It did not take long. Out in the main court she found a small knot of people who looked flustered and frightened.

"Victory!" one of the men blurted, ogling her gorgeous rack. "I'm glad to see you! There's a--"

"Which way did he go?" the stunning superheroine interrupted with a patronizing sigh. Several of them pointed. "One of you had better call the police," Victory said. "You can tell them to take their time though...I can handle the Centurion!"

The jeweler's shop was full of tear gas. Victory caught the Centurion striding unconcernedly out of the fog, carrying a canvas bag and removing the transparent face shield that had protected him from the gas.

"Stop right there, Centurion!" the sexy heroine said, striking her cockiest pose; sleek, traffic-stopping legs spread, arms akimbo, slim hips cocked just slightly to the left.

A crowd was gathering to watch the mighty Victory take down the bad guy. She could feel the stares of men fixed on her tight, peach-like ass, the envious looks of women wishing they were her. Well, let them look. She'd give them an eyeful in defeating the Centurion!

"I heard there was a screwball loose in the mall," Victory said tauntingly, "and I knew it had to be you, Centurion. Why don't you save me the trouble of beating you to a pulp? Surely you remember the last time?"

"I remember vividly, sweet enchantress," the villain replied, loudly enough for the peanut gallery to hear. "Your pussy was so sweet and juicy, my cock gets hard every time I think about it!"

Victory blushed beet red at the way her taunt had backfired. The crowd of bystanders tittered nervously, the men even nodding as if to agree, of course that was what they were thinking about too! Flustered, she charged forward, pirouetting like a dancer, swinging her right leg around for a spinning back kick.

The Centurion ducked easily, catching her leg and using it to pull her into his arms. The smooth skin of her gorgeous gam flushed hot with his touch, and the next thing Victory knew his strong arms were encircling her alluring waist, holding her up against his broad chest. He didn't have his armor breastplate on, and her hands splayed across his thin linen tunic, feeling the rippling muscles underneath. His lips were at her throat, feeling the rapid surging of her pulse.

"Centurion, you are SO under arrest!" Victory said. At least that's what she MEANT to say. But by then his mouth was over hers forcing a hot, steamy kiss on her, so that it came out more like, "Cenmmmmmmm you are so...mmmmmmmm!" Her eyes closed involuntarily, her body quivered with arousal as his hands cupped the deliciously rounded shape of her booty, squeezing her ass through the clingy Lycra of her hotpants. Her right foot rose up off the floor, her knee bending as she forgot everything in the heat of his body.

The crowd of bystanders, which had grown to about a hundred now, murmured their disbelief. Some outright laughing at the sight, which drew the heroine's attention from the kiss. Victory flushed crimson as she remembered that people were watching!

"Get your hands off me!" she cried shoving Centurion away with all her might. "How dare you!"

The villain slammed against, staggered for a moment then recovered with a grin. Perhaps it had not been with all her might...

"Enchantress, I dare because I think you like it," he replied glibly.

Victory scowled, ignoring the part of her mind that might agree with him. She charged forward throwing a punch, which Centurion narrowly ducked. Quickly the heroine slashed backwards with her elbow, yet her adversary anticipated this as well. He ducked the blow and reached around under her bust as Victory tried to square back up with him. Before she could react, the villain grabbed the bottom of her skin tight top and pulled upward, exposing the heroine's pert round tits to the gathered crowd!

The men's eyes went wide at the sight of her soft pink nipples. Mortified Victory quickly cupper her hands over her naked breasts, so humiliated it was all she could think to do for a moment. Her high-boned cheeks burning, she began to cover herself, stuffing her plump orbs back into her lycra halter. While Victory was distracted, Centurion reached back around her waist and without warning unfastened her power belt and let it drop! Suddenly all of her invincible powers were gone!

"Don't! Give me back my..." The stunning superheroine struggled to break out of the Centurion's clutches, but without her precious power belt, it was useless. A strong man like him didn't have any problem holding one weak female helpless, her arms pinned with one hand while he clasped a damp cloth over her pretty face.

Chloroform! She recognized the sickly sweet smell instantly.

"No! Please don't," Victory pleaded feeling the drug go straight to her head, making her feel woozy and lightheaded.

"I'm sorry about this, enchantress," the Centurion said as he held the cloth firmly over her face, "but I want you all to myself. I can't share you with audience."

"Yuuucnnnt... I'm Vicmmmm... mmmphff!"

This couldn't be happening! Stripped of her power belt, she was just a frail and ineffectual little girl struggling against the Centurion's overwhelming male strength. As he held her rigidly in his arms, the drug crept upon her brain like a misty fog, sapping her will to fight. All thought of resistance drained away like water swirling down a sink. With a soft moan, the superheroine's luscious legs folded and she sagged as limp as a doll into the Centurion's waiting arms. Her last thought was that the people in the mall really WERE getting an eyefull watching the mighty Victory -- so snooty and so full of herself just a moment ago -- get her cocky little ass overpowered and captured by a mere man!

The Centurion slipped one hand under her knees and picked her up, resting her head on his shoulder, fast asleep. The crowd backed off in sudden fear as the triumphant villain carried the defeated superheroine to the black sports car and dropped her into the passenger seat. He gunned the engine and crashed through the big glass doors, and was gone with his prize.

Victory awakened and saw stars overhead. She was lying supine on a blanket or a cloak, but the surface underneath felt hard and scratchy. It took her a moment to realize she was on the roof of the mall. Her arms were stretched over her head, her bare wrists bound together with thick leather thongs. The strap was looped around a metal stanchion anchored firmly in the roof, giving her about a foot and a half of slack between her wrists. Her ankles were bound together a little more tightly. It was only leather but, as she had been stripped of her powers, more than adequate to keep the spunky superheroine restrained and helpless.

"Awake at last, Sleeping Beauty?"

The Centurion stood not far away, as if waiting patiently for her to regain consciousness before proceeding further. Without a word he undid his weapons belt and unfastened the laces that held his tunic.

"You won't get away with this, Centurion!" Victory blustered, tugging uselessly at her bonds. "If you think you can capture me and hold the city for ransom or something..."

"Ransom?" he said with a smile. "Is that what you think I want?"

Chuckling, the villain removed his shirt, exposing his bare chest and sculpted abs, as well as his muscular thighs. Victory watched him undress, gasping for breath as he dropped his shorts and his manhood stood upright and erect. She knew perfectly well what he wanted and to her dismay the very idea excited her! Lying flat on her back, she felt the adrenalin rush making her body quiver, her breasts rising and falling with increasing quickness, her long silken legs rubbing almost sensuously against one another as she tried to loosen the slack in her bonds.

How can I be so excited by this villain? She wondered to herself, wanting to hold back the longing (or was it lust?) she felt. When no other man in Capital City even interests me...

He knelt and untied her ankles. Then he unzipped and removed her right boot, then her left. The heroine knew she could have fought back then, should have kicked at him, anything to keep this from happening...but something held her back. Gently he slid his hands upwards along her bare calves, spreading her long elegant legs and sliding in between them, kissing her knees, her creamy inner thighs...

"Unnnnnn!" Victory gasped as his slightest touch sent currents of desire tingling up and down her velvet skin.

Without her weapons she was defenseless, helpless, completely at his mercy! Was this the real reason she had confronted him in the mall? Had she secretly HOPED to end up like this? Did a part of her WANT to be his helpless plaything?

No...It can't be! She denied the feelings. I won't, won't let him take me again...but...how can I stop him? I'm completely helpless...

The Centurion was reaching for Victory's mask. The heroine squirmed, turning her head this way and that, whipping her long brown locks about. He already knew her secret identity. They both knew that, what was the point? She wasn't sure but she simply couldn't allow him to take her mask again.

"Please don't," she begged. "Don't unmask me, please!" He paused, fingers poised at the corners of her mask. "Please," she whispered imploringly, her green eyes glistening with tears of feminine helplessness. "I want...N-not as Jordin... let me stay Victory. Please?"

The Centurion grinned and withdrew his hand, leaving the purple mask in place. "As Victory then..."

What had that accomplished, she wondered as he reached behind her and unfastened her halter top. He unveiled her breasts with obvious relish, taking the skimpy Lycra garment from her and tossing it aside. While she lay there naked, arms still stretched above her head and restrained, he lowered his face to her nubile young breasts, delicately sucking one sensitive pink nipple, then the other, hearing her moan softly in response, her body trembling underneath him as his hands caressed her slim waist, reaching downward towards even more intimate regions.

"Noooo..." Victory hissed as she felt him pulling down her hot pants and thong, sliding them over her ankles and throwing them far across the roof. "Uuuuuuhhhhhnnnnnn...Oh!"

She practically purred as his fingers found her vulnerable pink slit. On their own her legs spread even wider to give him as much access as he wanted. Waves of desire crashed through her body like the ocean. She arched against his hand, rolling her narrow hips as he stroked her, feeling her clit swell between his fingers. His powerful hand manipulating, rubbing her shaven pussy lips, one against the other, gently at first and then more firmly, feeling the tender softness of her flesh, the slippery wetness of her girl cum as suddenly... with a gentle quiver, she climaxed.

"Mmmmmmmm," Victory moaned despite herself.

Immediately embarrassment swept the helpless heroine. How could she have orgasmed so easily? Did this man, this villain, hold that much desire over her? Was it something about being bound and helpless? Confusion mixed with humiliation began to cloud her mind, as she looked up at her captor with a doe-eyed expression.

"That's right," Centurion's voice was almost a growl. "You and your body are now mine!"

He shifted position, reaching underneath to cup her buttocks and lift them upwards a few inches. He quickly stuffed his wadded up tunic under her tail to keep her hips elevated. Then his big hands seized both ankles, lifting them high before sheathing his hard boner into her moist honeypot, a deep groan of satisfaction rumbling in his own chest.

"Unnnn...oh Gawd..." Victory moaned, her entire body shuddering with the adrenalin rush as she felt him inside her.

"I've trapped you, superheroine," he gloated. "Look at you, pathetic!"

Pulling out partway, the Centurion folded her legs over her abdomen as if jockeying for position, and thrust in again, giving her what felt like his entire length!

"Unh...fuck!" she cried, feeling as if she couldn't take all of him.

"You likely would have given yourself willingly," he went on, even as began to thrust powerfully. "Yet I've captured and tied you down...made you helpless...and taken you once again!"

"OHhhgawd...Please...Ah!"

His powerful body was like a machine. Her wrists still bound and helpless, Victory could only lay there submissively while he plundered and used her.

"To whom do your orgasms belong, superheroine?"

"UNH...you...they're yours..." Victory gasped.

Feeling totally dominated, there was nothing she could do but give in. Surrender to him in every way...but that didn't seem enough for the Centurion. His weight bore down, making her feel somehow even more helpless, while his tool plowed into her mercilessly.

"And who makes you cum...EV-ery...FUCK-ing...TIME?" he asked.

"OH..mmm...you do..UHN...please..."

"And do you know why?" Deeper and deeper with each thrust, each time harder, ever harder.

"No...unh...please...Imgonna...NGH...cum..." Her heart was hammering so that she thought it would burst.

"No no...don't you dare cum!" he growled. "Not until you tell me why!"

Her glossed lips trembled, the sensation of his cock swelling inside her sending flashes of molten lust throughout her slender body.

"Idon't...ohhhh, nnnnhhh...Don't...nnnn-know..." she whimpered.

He humped her like a rutting stag. The only sound she could hear was the rasp of his breath and the slap-slap of flesh against flesh. She could feel her climax building...

"Please, I beg...beg you...let me...AAHH! OHFuck!"

Suddenly, somehow his pace had intensified even more! "Yes, I'm fucking you harder...but DON'T YOU CUM, superheroine!"

"Pleeease!...UNH...UNH...Ohhgawd, pleeeease..."

He pushed her higher and higher, right to the edge. Victory tried to hold back, not wanting to admit the power this man, this villain had over her body...and partly because he had told her too. Her entire body was trembling now, laying helpless beneath him while he pounded away at her defenseless pussy!

"You like being taken by force, don't you?" Centurion said. Victory's only reply was a whimper. "You spend so much time as an invincible superheroine, so proud, so strong, so arrogant..." Every thrust was now rocking her entire body. "That it feels good to have it all taken away...to be helpless...and made subservient...doesn't it?"

"UNHHHH!!...AAAAhhhh..FUUuck!" Victory cried out, overwhelmed by the masculine power of the Centurion. "Yes...OHHHGAWD...YES!"

"...and your orgasms are so much sweeter when I force them on you, aren't they?"

Victory groaned and whimpered, wondering if his questions would ever stop. When she didn't reply his thrust again, somehow even deeper than before made her breath catch in her throat and set her head spinning.

"I asked if you liked being taken and used, superheroine..." He punctuated each word with another powerful thrust.

"FUUCK!...UNNNHHH...Yes!" she gasped, losing all sense as he forced her right the edge of orgasm. "NGH...by you, YESSSS...ohhgawd!"

The smile that spread across his face was broad and triumphant. "Now I'll make you cum, Victory!"

He began to vary his thrusts in deepness and intensity, and it was as if he knew things about her that Victory herself did not. She struggled to hold back, still not wanting to yield (or maybe wanting to be absolutely forced) but she couldn't. She couldn't...

"YES!" she screamed, "OhYES! ohhgod I'm cccccuming! I'm CUMING!!!!"

Victory continued to cry out, as her entire body shook with orgasmic energy! Every muscle tensed and even her prim little pussy contracted, squeezing around the Centurion's invading member! When it did, she felt him go off like a depth charge at the same time. He pulled out, spraying white hot semen across her naked chest and belly. Her body was convulsing with pleasure as he collapsed on top of her, kissing and nuzzling her feminine softness. Her legs fell limply to the ground and the heroine vaguely felt his slimey gizm dripping across her torso as she drifted off to a blissful and exhausted sleep.

When Victory awakened once again, the stars had moved across the sky. It must have been several hours, soon the sun would be up. The superheroine was surprised to find herself alone and untied, a warm cloak wrapped around her against the chill. She could feel the sticky remnants of her captor's orgasm still spread across her abdomen, and it made her feel dirty and used...perhaps even more than the act itself had.

Her uniform, powerbelt and bracelets were lying nearby. There was also a canvas bag, which she recognized as having contained the rare coins Centurion had stolen. Clutching the Centurion's cloak around her naked body, the superheroine looked inside. Of course the bag was now empty!

Save for a scrap of paper, with a hastily scrawled note. It read:

"Like these precious coins, a night with you is worth a million dollars...how could I resist taking both? C"

Victory angrily balled up the note and tossed it across the roof. As she went about gathering up her uniform her mind couldn't help but wander.

If I'm worth a million dollars, she thought dejectedly. Then why do I feel so cheap?

>>>>>THE END
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