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(A word of praise is due to Devilsharvest for his invaluable help, along with Lord
Arrukar, in
constructing the last chapter. And to Arrukar again for this
latest...)
Part 4
Power Girl
Muscles
in the arms of one of most powerful beings on Earth flexed taught, then relaxed. The
only sound in the underground room was the soft rhythm of breathing and the
occasion grating of hundreds of tons of steel against the stone walls.
The
ceiling of the dank chamber was a pair of huge chrome metal plates, fitted
to match exactly the chambers oblong walls and meeting in a line that ran through the diameter of the space, bisecting it. Their lower surfaces, facing the floor
just over 6 feet below them, were perfectly flat, except for a cylindrical
shaft. This was protruding like a shiny metal stalactite about three feet in
circumference that trailed down from each plate, almost to the floor.
Lying
between the flat lower face of both these steel shafts and the paved floor was
a woman. Practically naked in their torn
one piece tunics, the two Amazons of Themyscria had been bound face up with
their arms pulled out from their sides and their legs stretched out, secured at
the wrists and ankles with iron manacled set into the cold floor. Gags shaped
like the bits of a horses bridle were fixed deeply into their mouths,
preventing them from speaking. As they
inhaled each woman could feel the shaft as it sat poised above their bellies.
The crushing weight hovering over them was an ever-present threat of a swift
but gruesome death should it ever close the ten inches between it and the chill
stone beneath.
In the
centre of the room, arms upraised and taking the full massive weight of the
steel, was the focus of all this effort.
A girl, by appearance no more than in her mid twenties,
standing about 5’8” tall and dressed in a clinging white one-piece outfit from
that covered her body down to her hips and thighs. An open space across her the costumes chest
allowed viewers a dazzling view of her truly spectacular breasts, large mounds
of impossible firm flesh that seemed to defy gravity as easily as their owner
did when she soared through the sky with her red cape trailing behind her. On her feet she wore blue buccaneer boots and
matching blue gloves covered her hands which were currently occupied with
supporting the metal ceiling Her blonde
hair was cropped short above her shoulders and had somewhat wild appearance
that well matched the grim resolve and simmering anger apparent in strong lines
of the woman’s lovely face.
Power
Girl, alias Karen Starr, did not have a certain idea how long she had been
holding up the metal roof, but she knew it was a long time. Her imprisonment was simple and yet
fiendishly effective. Able to shatter
even the strongest forged restraints with strength that rivalled the Kryptonian hero Superman, she
could have burst through the wall of the chamber and escaped with ease. But
only by letting go of the steel above her, thus allowing it to drive the metal
shafts straight through the abdomens of the imprisoned Amazons. As long as she wanted the Amazons to stay
alive, Karen was trapped.
The
heroine fumed at her captivity. The
weights she was supporting were enormous by conventional human standards, but
she could heft them without effort for days on end. There was no danger to her fellow prisoners
from her tiring physically, though hours of holding the same position with
nothing to distract her was taking its toll mentally. No doubt as intended.
She had
tried talking to the other women, but found that frustrating too. They could not reply, even assuming they were
among those Amazons who had mastered English.
Both girls were attractive, one of an Asian appearance with golden skin,
dark bewitching eyes and long black hair – Karen though she remembered seeing
her with Diana and the Amazon princess calling her Eobea. The other was dusky skinned, a mark of the
Amazons raised in the Egyptian city of
Eobea had seemed appreciative of
Karen’s efforts to comfort her, but the other had only glared or looked away,
no doubt furious that an outsider, even though a woman, was holding her life in
her hands. Truth be told, Karen was
never good with words of comfort, and ironically in disposition probably more
like the warlike Eastern Amazons than their Themyscrian
sisters. She preferred action to talk,
and was never one to shy away from a hands on solution. The duplicitous tactic of using hostages to
negate her strength made her blood boil.
There
was a sound to the side of a door opening.
All three women looked over, the Amazons having to strain a little to
raise their heads as a man entered the room.
He was
unimposing in build, perhaps 6 feet tall and lean. The most distinctive thing about him was his
wardrobe – ordinary streetclothes underneath, but
over the top a green surgical gown and matching cap and mask. Above the mask his eyes were hidden behind a
pair of star shaped sunglasses that looked more appropriate for a rock star
than a supervillain.
Despite
his un-intimidating presentation though, Karen felt her blood chill at the
sight of the man. She had never met him,
but knew him by his gruesome reputation as the world’s foremost expert on
torture. So horrific were the tales told
about this man and his expertise at inflicting suffering that even his comical
title of ‘The Crime Doctor’ could not
take away from the lingering horror he carried with him.
The man
walked into the room, hardly glancing at the Amazons of on the floor. That was fine with Karen, since her primary
fear was that this sadistic creep would make her watch him torture the two
prisoners while she was helpless to intervene.
She held no fear for her own well-being.
She had survived hits from armour piercing ammunition and walked
unscathed through fires that could melt steel without the slightest discomfort.
The
Doctor stopped in front of her, examining her with his hands held in front of
him, draped in surgical gloves. ‘Good
day, Miss Star,’ he said, speaking in a voice that under other circumstances
might have been soothing, with rich comforting tones. ‘I trust you’re resting comfortably.’
Karen
did not dignify his statement with a response, and he did not seem perturbed by
her silent glare. Instead, he reached up
and felt the firmness of the muscles in her upper arms. ‘Triceps holding up well I see.’ His hand ran down to her shoulders and then
around to her back. ‘No discomfort in
the deltoids or around the scapula? Excellent!’
Karen
inhaled to calm herself as the human vermin in the Doctors garb continued to
touch her. Under any normal
circumstances she would have never permitted him to get within arms reach of
her, unless it was to break those arms as she put him under arrest. She was actually trembling with the rage that
coursed through her as he continued his twisted examination.
He
stooped down, feeling her legs between the knee and hip. ‘Well developed quadriceps, yes.’ His hand moved down, the palm caressing the
heroine’s inner thigh. ‘And such fine
definition of the sartorius muscle.’ He stroked Karen’s bare leg tenderly, eyes
fixed on the magnificent musculature of the alien woman. Slowly his hand crept higher, towards the
gently mound where the white of her uniform was stretched across her
crotch. Karen’s eyes remained fixed
ahead, but they blazed with fury as she took quick, noisy breaths, mouth working
with suppressed passion.
The
Doctor turned his hand, cupping her soft pubis and rubbing it gently under the
white material. ‘Can you feel that,’ he
asked, impassively.
‘You
sick son-of-a-bitch!’ Karen exploded, glaring at the far wall. ‘I swear when I
get out of hear I’m going to rip that fucking hand off your arm.!’
The
Doctor looked up at her and cocked his head to one side. ‘Subject shows signs of belligerence and
heightened aggression,’ he said clinically.
Standing up he looked Karen in the eyes, then let his gaze drift down
over the impressive frontage of her uniform, lingering on the gaping space that
displayed her meta-cleavage. ‘Overt
displays of sexuality noted, possibly to compensate for lingering feelings of
inadequacy or as a means to create situations that allow her to take on
adversarial role.’
He
looked back up at Karen’s narrowed eyes, then reached up and grasped her
breasts, his palms firmly cupping the swelling teats and hefting them
experimentally. ‘Subject shows no signs
of enhancement surgery.’ He raised an
eyebrow. ‘Impressive
mammary attributes.’
Karen
gave a growl that would not have been out of place coming from a wounded polar
bear.
‘You can
feel that then,’ the Doctor said. ‘And this?’ He
squeezed, the invulnerable but flexible flesh moving in his hands.
‘Get…your
hand…OFF!’ Karen snapped, livid with outrage.
‘I’ll
take that as a yes, then,’ the Doctor said, stepping back and removing his
hands. Karen continued to stare daggers
at him. ‘Very
interesting. You know, Miss Power
Girl, your nervous system is a great curiosity to me, as it is to many men of science.’
He put his hands behind his back as he took on a lecturing tone. ‘For example, it is well know
that like Superman, you are invulnerable to all but the most powerful outside
forces. Bullets ricochet off you skin
without a scratch, but also without apparently any pain response on you
part. In a normal human a strike by a bullet,
even if it did not penetrate the epidermis, would cause intense pain. You and your ilk, however, seem immune to such
discomfort.’
‘The
intrigue comes from the fact that you are perfectly capable of registering
other sensations. For example,’ he again
reached out and probed Karen’s breast, finding the nub of her nipple under her
uniform. He rolled it between his fingers,
feeling the button of flesh becoming firmer.
‘You react as any female to simple stimulus response that does not
involve pain.’
The
circumstances of her bondage gave the blonde prisoner enough wiggle room that
she was able to pull back, wrenching her tit from the villain’s unwanted
touch.
‘So,’
the Doctor continued, rubbing his chin under the mask. ‘Clearly you are able to feel, despite your
virtually impenetrable skin. In humans, pain receptors require greater stimulus
to activate than the everyday nerve clusters in the subject’s body. My theory
is that while your epidermal layer is sufficiently flexible to allow the nerves
to receive mild signals, your so-called invulnerability means that extreme
force, heat, etc is needed to activate the your pain receivers – in short, they
exist but are simply harder to access.’
Karen
wet her lips, shaking her hair from her eyes as she shifted her hands
supporting the tons of metal overhead. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, freak.’
Beneath
his mask, the Doctor smiled. ‘Not at
all, dear girl. It is a delightful
challenge – how to torture a woman who is practically indestructible. There is the obvious solution of course, to
use other meta-powered beings to provide the necessary stimulation, but I
prefer not to delegate. Therefore, a
more ingenious approach is needed.’
The door
to the room opened again, and another man stepped through. He was shorter than the Doctor, well dressed
in a Nehru jacket and pants, with Asian features. He too wore glasses, but his were more
utilitarian, simple round frames that sat over his dark eyes. The look in those slanted eyes as he took in
the sight of the three women could only be describes as cold, but Karen somehow
sensed behind his clinical demeanour lurked an even darker side.
‘This is
Doctor Moon – possibly you have heard of him.
A few years ago he began researching means to reprogram the human mind
using electrical impulses from a modified Cat scan
machine. An early success of his was the
burglar known as Catwoman, whom he…dissuaded from a
continuing partnership with the Batman.
Later, when he was captured, he used his technology at the behest of the
The Asian bowed slightly,
offering Karen a small smile. The
captive heroine felt as if she were being sized up by a hungry reptile.
‘As you
can imagine, my colleague is something of an expert on the human nervous
system, particularly that part which applies to experiencing pain. Together we have come up with a theory we
would like to test.’ The masked villain
turned to Moon. ‘Doctor.’
Thank
you, Doctor,’ Moon replied in perfectly articulated English. He faced Power Girl. ‘We wish to experiment in the area of
heightened pain response – allowing the subject to feel much greater pain than
normally, physiologically possible. This
has of course been achieved in past with the use of drugs, but that would be
impractical in this case. Fortunately we have access to technology owned by a
race called the Sangtee.’
‘Never
heard of them,’ Karen snapped, but though she saw a fearful recognition in the
eyes of the Amazons.
‘Not
surprising, but they do have something of a history with Wonder Woman,’ Moon
replied, taking off his glasses to wipe them.
‘I believe they have been spending some time reacquainting the Princess
with their skills in causing females to suffer.’
Karen
froze, shocked with anger, and the Amazons made sounds of outrage. ‘If these Sangtee have hurt Diana…’ Power
Girl hissed.
‘Oh most
assuredly they have,’ Moon answered, and produce a small recording device,
which he turned on. Immediately the sound of a whip cracking against flesh and
a woman screaming in pain filled the room.
‘Please
stop,’ moaned the woman, her voice horrifyingly familiar. ‘It hurts.’
The
Amazons stared wide-eyed, then began thrashing in their bonds, bodies heaving
as they fought to get free and at the men smiling as they listened to the
sounds of Diana being tortured. Karen was
beside herself with rage, the metal slabs shaking audibly above her head.
‘You
bastards!’ she spat. ‘You’ll pay for
this, both of you, you sons-of-bitches!’
‘The
Sangtee are masters of neural interface tech,’ Moon went on, as if Karen had
not spoken. ‘They have devices to
stimulate pain beyond the physical damage done to the subject. I have modified their technology based on my
own understanding of electrical fields in the body and brain to create this.’
He held
up a small square piece of plastic covered with criss-crossing circuit
pathways. Walking over the dusky skinned
Amazon on the floor, her reached down and grabbed her curly dark hair, yanking
her head up and making her growl around the gag.
‘Leave
her alone,’ Karen barked, but Moon ignored her and pushed the circuit chip
against her temple, where it adhered to the skin. The captive woman watched him with murder in
her eyes. He then stepped back and held out his arm with his watch, pressing a
button on the time-pieces side. ‘If you
would care to do the honours, Doctor,’ Moon said to his partner.
The
Crime Doctor bent down and produced a scalpel, while the Amazon glared at him
and Karen cursed helplessly. With it he
quickly cut away the tattered clothes, leaving the woman nude on the floor, her
dark peaked breasts heaving as she sucked in air furiously. Below her pierced navel, she had a hairless mons, the dark labial lips a tight crease between her long
legs.
‘The
nature of the device is that it interacts with the body’s natural bio-electric
field, so having the skin directly accessible is important,’ Moon
commented. The other looked down at the
helpless Amazon warrior with her face a mask of fury, and spoke calmly. ‘It’s alright, Miss. You needn’t feel embarrassed – I’m a medical
man.’
With
slow movements, the torturer reached down and took the side of the woman breast
between his finger and thumb. Then
softly, he squeezed, just pinching the flesh.
The
result was astounding. The Amazon
gurgles as if in agony, her head snapping back and her body arching
upwards. The Crime Doctor held her for a
few seconds, then released her, allowing her to
collapse back onto the floor, shaking with convulsions.
The
other women watched in horror. The
Doctor next flattened his hand and slapped the girl’s boob lightly. It was
hardly hard enough for the smack to be heard, but the girl bucked and shrieked
as if he had smashed his leather belt into the meat of her tit. He repeated the
act and the result was even more extreme as the girl thrashed as if in agony.
'You see, the pain she feels is multiplied a
hundredfold. We could achieve this level without the Sangtee’s
help of course, but would not, without their assistance, be able to stimulate
pain response to point where it could be felt by a subject who was...,’ Moon
paused and smiled, '…invulnerable.'
'Of
course we are men of science,’ The Crime Doctor interjected. ‘A theory must be
tested to be proved.’
‘And
your just doing this for the sake of science I suppose, you freakish little
deviants,’ Karen spat at the two men in front of her.
The Doctor
shrugged. 'One has to love ones job, Power Girl.' He approached her, and pulled out a scalpel.
‘Moon said this works best with bare skin. I’m guessing that like Superman your
uniform is indestructible, but we’ve noticed his cape isn’t. We theorize this
is because the garment needs to be against the skin to be protected.’
He
reached out, taking her uniform top where it was stretched across her
magnificent expanse of chest, hooking a rubber-gloved finger into her uniform
and pulling it away from the curving flesh.
Moon
watched, pursing his lips in approval of the luscious curves being revealed.
The surgeon reached over with the blade. 'First incision here, I think,’ he
said. He cut lightly, and the material parting reluctantly, but it DID cut.
Immobilized, Karen watched with helpless anger as he continued
sawing slowly and methodically. The
busty heroine looked up as she felt the cool air on more and more exposed
flesh.
The
strain of holding in her mighty chest too much for the compromised uniform, her
own cleavage now helped the costumes demise.
Rrrrrrr…IIIIIP!
With a
sudden surge her breasts spilled out, nipples large and round in the light,
breasts sitting impossibly proud.
‘Mmmm...a remarkable woman,’ Moon
said, eyes glued to the two magnificent mammaries now fully displayed.
The Doctor
agreed. ‘Do you think it’s her dense molecular structure that keeps such big
tits so taught, Moon?' Karen pressed
her lips together with rage, ready to scream in anger.
‘Quite
possibly,’ Moon said, stroking his chin. `It would be interesting to observe
her reactions to a mammal dissection while it is performed on her! Perhaps a
thorough deconstruction of these breasts could give us some…firm data on the subject.’
The Doctor
smiled at the pun. ‘I concur - but first we should tend to the task at hand.’
‘By
all means.’
The
Doctor reached up and held out another chip like the one they had used on the
Amazon. ‘Unless you would rather we used them on these other prisoners first?’
he said to Karen dispassionately.
Moon
took a step forward and casually put his boot onto the dark Amazon´s
wide-open cunt and tenderly applied the slightest
pressure. She screeched in hellish pain, twisting and squirming on the cold
floor, as Moon stood there, slightly giggling. Then he let go and stepped back
a little, eagerly observing Power Girl´s reaction.
The superheroine was clearly furious, but the trained
psychologist in the Asian could also see the sick fear. Fear for her fellow victims
balanced against fear for herself. But of course the blonde was a hero, and her
response entirely predictable.
'Do your
worst, scum,' she said, meeting the gaze of both men.
`I dare
say, we will!’ Moon chortled.
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