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MtK update
🕑 Added 2020-09-28 01:00:02 +0000 UTC
Kara and Dick stopped for a rest on the shores of Sheep Lake in the Rocky Mountains, a picture-perfect pastoralist setting. Clouds thick as cotton, the mountains in the background, deep green grass on all sides of the jewel of a pond. Yet all Dick could look at was Kara.
As he stretched his legs and rotated his arms, working out the kinks of the long flight, Kara sat down to rest on a boulder. Sometime during the trip, a seam he’d never noticed before had opened up between her breasts, almost cutting her skimpy top in two. It held together at the bottom, virtually between her tits.
The tantalizing glimpse Dick got of her cleavage made his cock stir and stiffen. He tried to keep his mind off of her, but it was a losing battle. Maybe if she were entirely naked it would be one thing, but every time Kara moved, she exposed a new view of her firm, pert breasts. Breasts that were straining against their cloth prison already. As if they knew Kara didn’t need a bra or any other form of support.
Dick marveled at their youthful firmness, her breasts swaying gently from left to right without ever sagging. And her nipples probed out as stiffly as could be imagined against the fabric of his top, further enticing Dick’s eyes. He wondered if Kara noticed the outline of his swelling prick inside his costume. It felt like his loins were burning with tightness.
Dick tried to restrain himself. Fucking Misfit was one thing. She may have been young, but she was informally a Bird of Prey. It seemed almost natural. But fucking yet another woman, outside his marriage, just as young as Misfit but with Clark goddamn Kent as her father figure? A friend of Tim and Steph and Cass and the rest of the kids? That could not be more than a fantasy in the back of his mind. It simply had to remain unspoken, thought about as little as possible. He wished he could erase the idea from his mind entirely. But one look at Kara in her new costume and it would come right back.
Kara leaned back to stretch her legs out to their full extension, so far that it seemed like her skirt barely touched her thighs. Dick’s manhood throbbed so hard he felt like he was on the verge of coming. Those legs! Slender calves, well-formed muscles, and the thighs that seemed made to wrap around a man and hold him tight until he’d come inside her—creamy and smooth and soft and tender. He wanted to be stroking them, sweetly, gently. He didn’t care if it took him a thousand years to work his way from there to the space between her legs that was the ultimate destination, the final thought any glimpse of Kara could give a man.
He wondered if Kara was as attracted to him as he was to her. Dick tried not to be smug about it, but he knew he was good-looking. He wondered, though, if Kara would have a thing for older men. Any girl as attractive as her couldn’t have any problem finding a thousand guys her own age. Cool it, Grayson—why would she want someone who’s not only older than her, but already has a literal team of women monopolizing his time?
As if hearing that thought, Kara fixed him with a look. “Hey, Dick, can I ask you a question?”
Dick cleared his throat, trying to snap himself out of his lust and return himself to the mentorly role he had with Kara in reality. “Sure, Kara, anything.”
“I know I volunteered to give you a ride, but on Earth, isn’t it considered polite to do something to thank a person when they do you a favor?”
“Well, yeah, Kara, that’s very true.”
“Good,” she purred, something unaccountably sultry about her gaze. Dick could feel it as readily as he would her heatvision. “Because I was thinking that since I gave you a ride, it’s only fair that you give me one too.”
Dick froze, gobsmacked. That could not be what it sounded like. Sweet, innocent Kara could only be having some difficulty with Earth language.
“Assuming, that is, that you have something for me to ride on. But if you don’t, then your parents really picked a bad name.”
Dick coughed. “Kara, I think you’d better… better tell me very clearly what it is that you’re trying to say right now. We might be having some communications issues.”
Kara shrugged her shoulders. “Simple, Dick. What I’m trying to communicate to you is that I want to see your cock.”
***
Bruce took Harley’s ankles and lashed them to the legs of the table. Her thighs were spread yet again, making a point of the fact that Harley was his and his wives’ to use however they wanted—Harley was too slutty not to enjoy them doing what they wished with her.
Roxy Rocket grinned down at her. “Don’t you worry, Quinn. I know you’re a fun girl, just like me. I’m gonna give you a real treat!”
Harley took one look at the cane in Roxy’s hand. “Oy vey… Brucie, where do you find these girls?”
“Same way I found you,” Bruce retorted. “You all come to me.”
“And then we keep coming!” Roxy added.
With the searing pain of the nipple clamps still bearing down on her, Harley was thinking even less clearly than usual. She saw Vicki coming up behind her, a grin on her sensual lips. Harley pulled at the chain, but only managed to make it rattle. She was helpless.
Vicki pushed Harley down against the table, making her breasts rub against it, the clamps dragging on the surface. Her nipples throbbed, a pounding agony that had Harley breathing hard, on the verge of tears. Then she felt the touch of Vicki’s lips on the backs of her thighs, licking up Bruce’s cum from earlier.
“MMmmm…” Vicki mockingly smacked her lips over the taste. “Don’t suppose you’re enjoying this, Harley? I’m only doing it because you don’t deserve to have Bruce’s cum all over your pasty white skin.” She moved her soft mouth up to Harley’s clit and took her time playing with it.
Harley gasped, struggling helplessly, unable not to enjoy herself between the bondage and Vicki’s skill at pleasuring her. “P-p-pasty? It’s not pasty! Sure, I don’t tan well, but… cuhh! Creamy, that’s a better word. Creamy. Cah-creamy…” She shuddered in hopeless ecstasy. “Oh, Vicks, I always wanted to get something going on with you when Mistah J had you tied up. I knew Red wouldn’t like it, but—ohh!—I could tell you’d be good at it!”
Vicki jumped up, grabbing the cane from Roxy, and slashed it across Harley’s ass. Harley screamed, tossed herself wildly about, feeling the cane whip viciously into her jiggling ass.
“You don’t get to come. Not until it hurts, bitch,” Vicki said, and knelt down to lick at Harley’s pussy some more, her sensuous mouth held to Harley’s cunt with expert knowledge of what Harley liked, what all women liked. She sucked up Bruce’s cum while her fingers massaged Harley’s tight ass, adding to the depraved pleasure rushing through the bound woman.
Harley pulled at the chain around her neck, her legs trembling, her breasts aching. All her old pains seemed to keep pace with her pleasure—her restraints and Vicki’s domineering abuse wouldn’t let her forget them.
But her passion was rising, the horrible disgusting lust that wasn’t for Mistah J, that was in defiance of him. Every touch of Vicki’s mouth heaped onto the fire. Harley tried desperately not to show her arousal. She bit the inside of her cheek and rubbed her breasts against the table to distract herself with pain. But trying so hard to hurt herself somehow added to the pleasure. She sobbed, body shaking as she thrust her ass back to Vicki’s tongue.
“Stop it!” she cried. “You can’t dominate me! You can’t make me come! You’re just a hostage!”
“And now you’re her hostage,” Bruce said, leaning over Harley. “You enjoy being her hostage. Just like you enjoy being my bitch. Like you enjoy anything that makes you come, you filthy little slut. How would you like one of these clamps to get a little twist?”
He reached under her writhing body. Harley felt the sudden pressure as he took one of the clamps in hand, a moment of anticipation, then the pain as he tightened it. She screamed, not just because of Bruce, but because Vicki had taken all of her clit into her mouth, sucking it hard, working her teeth out of it. Harley was gone in a screaming paroxysm, her lust painful, spasming. Her screams rose higher and higher with the two working on her, hurting her, pleasing her, driving her further out of her mind then she had ever gone before.
Vicki’s mouth breathed pleasure into Harley’s cunt, licked deep into her folds and put a desperate need in Harley’s core before leaving it unsated to suck at her clit again, saw her teeth over it. The sensations Harley was feeling pitched themselves higher and higher. Finally Harley’s body was jiggling out of control. Her legs quaked. Her breasts smacked against the table. Bruce kept a steady grip on the clamp as he waited.
“Ggghhhh!” Harley cried as she came, her ecstasy surging out of her, beyond her control. “I hate you! I hate you!” No matter how much she wailed, her body kept betraying her, feeding more of its energy into this passionate explosion. “Don’t you dare make me come any harder! Don’t you—“
Bruce twisted the clamp, digging its teeth into Harley’s nipple. They pulled at her flesh, scored it—Harley felt like she would feel the pain even through the most intense pleasure there was.
“Now for her ass,” Bruce said.
Harley gurgled, pulling at the chain that held her neck. Vicki’s lips moved up, between her buttocks, licking there, tongue reaching for her anus. “Oh, c’mon, Vicks, you can’t tell me that even at my worst, you think I’d ever lick your—your—oooooh—my ass!”
Harley’s rapture got worse, got better, got more intense the closer Vicki’s tongue moved to her asshole. She licked Bruce’s cum from the cleft of Harley’s ass, licking the sensitive skin again and again as Bruce twisted the other clamp. Harley sobbed and heaved, trapped in the depraved release of her climax. Bruce would not let her forget how much she enjoyed it; the nipple clamps left her unable to lose herself in the feeling. She was always aware that she was coming because she was bitch, cock holster, cum dumpser—Bruce’s.
Vicki’s fingers dug into Harley’s ass almost as tight as the nipple clamps. She wrenched them wide apart and licked away the cum that had spilled out after Bruce had spurted in Harley’s ass.
“Uuuhhhhh!” Harley groaned, her body trembling with the weight of the thoughts that burst into her mind, staccato ideas, hypnotically repetitive, her natural submissive tendencies wresting control of her away from everything else in her personality.
She wanted to please Bruce, deep in her bones she wanted to please him, please him with her whole body. It would please him if she came. He wanted her to come. Her body wanted to come. Harley wanted to come. The parts of her that didn’t—didn’t want to please him, didn’t want to come, didn’t want to be his bitch—they were bypassed so ruthlessly by the pleasure she was feeling and the desire for more that her reluctance might as well have been cut out of her. She wanted to please Bruce…
Her peak crashed over her—Harley was being hit by tidal waves from two different directions—the pain of her bitten nipple and the incredible pleasure of Vicki’s tongue licking into her sphincter. All while she was knee-deep in submission and obedience and worship of Bruce. Harley mewled, mouth open, panting, eyes crossing as she came. Her body wasn’t out of control. It was in Bruce’s. Bruce wanted her to come. She wanted to please Bruce.
Bruce went back to the first clamp, twisting it to get another shriek out of Harley. Now she sounded like she was on a roller coaster. Enjoying herself. “You know what happens now?”
Harley didn’t answer. She was in her own world, the world Bruce had made for her, the world where all she had to do was obey and everything seethed with pain and lust and fun. Another orgasm pounded into her as Bruce toyed with the clamp, releasing it a little, then tearing at her nipple harder. Harley felt more crazed when the pressure eased than when it increased.
“Now I’m going to fuck your ass,” Bruce said. “You can thank me after I’ve filled it with my cum.”
Harley cried out insanely, tearing at her chain. Her pleasure had mounted, mounted, it towered above her like a building about to fall, but in defiance of gravity, the fall wouldn’t come. Like Wile E. Coyote walking off a cliff and walking and walking and walking, it went on climbing. Harley gasped and moaned, struggling against what held her, aching, on fire. Bruce moved behind her, his stiff cock slapping over her buttocks when he turned to face her.
Vicki moved out of the way. “I got her nice and wet for you, Bruce,” she said, leaving Harley’s asshole twitching and shiny between her whipped, reddened cheeks. She’d spent a lot of time dreaming of fucking Bruce and a lot of time dreaming of getting back at Harley. She’d had no idea she would one day be able to combine the two.
“Oh hey, hey, not again with that, not in my ass again!” Harley yelled, her fright shaking her so hard she was almost having a seizure. “Even Mistah J didn’t fuck my ass that much! It was too tight for him! How can you be harder on me than Mistah J?”
Vicki smiled at Bruce. “We won’t. We’ll make your ass much less tight. But first, let me make sure Bruce’s cock has enough lubricant…”
She leaned down and gave his erection a thorough licking, a thorough sucking, leaving it harder than ever—slickly gleaming with her saliva.
“Of course, we could use real lubricant…” Vicki grinned. “But it’s not like she ever used loose handcuffs.”
“Loose handcuffs, what’re you talking about?” Harley demanded. “That’s not even a thing! And I didn’t tighten your cuffs too much, don’t slander me, you have thin, sensitive wrists—“
Bruce slid himself between Harley’s buttocks, his massive erection like a plump sausage set into a small hot dog bun. Harley moaned, but her ecstasy didn’t stop. It burst again like the sparkle after a firework went off with the underside of Bruce’s prick rubbing against her crinkled anus.
“Feels warm,” Bruce breathed. “Feels like it want me. Beg me for it, Harley. You know you’ll love it, so don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor. Beg.”
Harley shook her head. “Not gonna beg, not gonna beg, not gonna beg.” She repeated it like a mantra, like orders to herself. Then her flushed red ass got another slap and Vicki twisted the clamps herself.
It felt like spears plunging into her, only Harley was feeling pleasure instead of pain, alongside pain—sensation erupting through her with Bruce bringing his cockhead to her tight asshole, letting her feel the broadness of his glans where his engorged knob lined up with her tiny sphincter. Even in her cracking state, Harley knew how much she would stretch when he put that monster inside her.
“Beg me,” Bruce said again, calmly, coolly, like he was collecting his due from her. Making her pay the price for the rapture she was about to experience.
Suddenly, Harley felt the touch of the tin cane on her much abused ass. She craned her neck to see it was Vicki holding it, tapping the tip just above where Bruce’s cockhead was prodding in her anus.
“Beg him,” Vicki said, and Harley’s stomach churned.
“Shit, yes, okay, do it, fuck my ass! Please, please, fuck my ass, if that’s what you want, as long as you want me, give me what I want, make me what you want, I want you to want me, I want you to want to fuck my ass!” Harley wept, staring at the cane, feeling every tap it made on her sensitive flesh like an atom bomb. “Want my ass, yes, yes!”
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