THE INITIATION 
A super-heroine adventure featuring COWGIRL, based on an image by Exit-Zero (212).

DISCLAIMER : This story is a work of fiction. It may contain scenes of violence, sexual imagery and may depict scenes of non-consensual sexual activity, as well as torture and many other illegal activities. It is intended as literary entertainment only.
All characters used in this story are property of their respective owners.
This story is part of the continuity established by myself and my interpretations of the Exit-Zero universe, presented with his permission, and may not work in continuity with other stories. 

Direct any comments to : youngasuq@yahoo.ca

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Monique West had arrived in Eve City approximately a year and a half after the Night of the Comet. She had come all the way from Texas. Her parents, cattle farmers, had allowed their only daughter to go out on her own and explore the United States as soon as she had had turned eighteen, which she had done. Her trips had taken her all across the country, eventually arriving at the capital of the metaheroine, Eve City. It was there that she had witnessed her first act of crime-fighting, seeing the duo of Ms Dynamo and Flare taking on a street gang. Despite being publicly humiliated and violated during their intervention, they had come out winning, defeating the bad guys and sending them to jail.

From that fateful day, Monique had only one goal in mind : become one of them.

It had taken some convincing, but Monique's parents, wealthy enough to afford it, had paid for their daughter's pad in the same seedy sector where the assault on Dynamo and Flare had occured, Luther district, just north downtown residential. Low-rent housing gave the place the feel of a run-down district, even though it still thrived among black and latino communities. It was the perfect operating theater for Monique in her new profession..

It was almost night when Lucy Ongara left the beauty salon where she worked. She quickly locked the door and made her way down the street, towards the intersection. She waited for her turn to cross the street, then headed towards her home, not ten streets from there. She was walking briskly in her comfortable flat sole shoes, her knee-high flowery skirt swinging on her legs as she walked. The bright yellow of her shirt clashed with her dark, ebony skin, while her red leather purse swung wildly at her arm while she made her way home, as did her black curly hair with blonde highlights.

What Lucy failed to notice was the man with the baseball cap, creeping closer and closer in the evening lowlight, reaching forward at the last second... and grabbing her purse, pulling on it, and then running away with it.

"My purse!"

Lucy spun around and saw the man running away. She immediately darted after him, acting on instinct. She had played volleyball in high school and was still in good shape. She could catch up to him. He ducked in-between two buildings. Without thinking, Lucy ran after him, into the dark alley; she saw him round a corner and went after him.

That's when things got bad. As she made it into the other alley, she bumped into a different man and was taken aback. He had a wicked grin behind his latino face, and Lucy immediately saw he was not alone. She had the quick reflex to turn around, only to find the path she had taken be blocked by two other latino men. She was cornered.

"Hola, Chica... What's the rush? Lose something?"

She was the thief with the baseball cap a little further, holding her red purse, grinning much like his friend.

"Please... I don't want any trouble. You can keep the purse," she quickly said.
"Ain't gonna work like that Chica..."

Lucy grew fearful for what was coming, and she was right to. The two men who had blocked her exit grabbed her arms, while the man in front of her caressed her cheek.

"You a pretty black girl, Chica... have a name?"
"L... Lucy."
"Lucy. Cousin's named like that. I like her..."

The four men laughed.

"Me, I'm Cordero. This is (pointing to the thief) Sammy and these two are (pointing to the men holding her) Rodrigo and Carlo... we don't really care about what's in your purse, do we Sammy?"

Sammy was looking through her stuff as the question was asked.

"Nothing much here," he replied. "Lipstick, her wallet, 20 bucks... credit card..."

He took out a picture of her with two small children.

"Hey! She's a mommy!" Sammy added.
"Wonderful! So she knows all about how to make babies!" Cordero sneered behind his thin mustache.

Sammy showed the picture to his mate, and they commented on how cute they looked.

"Please," begged Lucy. "I have children..."
"That's right, Chica... and if you care for them, you will do as we say. We have your adress, everything..."

The two men holding Lucy dragged her to the wall and pinned her against it. She struggled a little bit, but her nerves were making it hard for her to do anything but comply, with the fear settting in. As strong hands pinned her shoulders to the wall, she felt another reach and grab her butt over her dress, caressing it. She started sobbing gently as the hand reached under her skirt, caressing her inner thigh, up to the crease between her legs.

"Please..." she begged.
"What's that, Chica? You like?"
"No... stop this..."

He slapped her ass and she squirmed. He started pulling down her skirt, exposing her frilly underwear, slapping her ass again. He caressed her buttcheek by sliding his hand over, then under the cloth. He grabbed her ass with two hands, then proceeded to lower the underwear; he got it low enough that it fell to the ground. She was still sobbing, so he leaned in her ear.

"If you keep that up, I'll let everyone of my guys have a turn..."

Afraid, she tried to contain her complaint. Cordero motioned his two men to turn her around. They did so, keeping her shoulders pinned to the wall. He grabbed the top of her yellow shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying off, exposing her lacy white bra, a wonderful contrast to her dark skin. The clasp was in the front.

"Convenient," he said.

He put his finger in-between her mounds and unclasped the bra. Her plump breasts came into view. All the men in the alley stared. Cordero grabbed them both, lifting them as if he were weighing them. Lucy had closed her eyes, containing her distress, waiting for the moment to pass.

Rodrigo and Carlo, the two men holding her, bent their heads and wrapped their lips around her nipples. She squealed instantly, holding back any other sounds. As they started playing with them, Cordero slipped one finger down to her navel, drawing a circle around it, then moved further down. She tried to bring her legs together; forcefully, he pulled them apart, and placed his thin finger against her slit. She cringed even more. The men nibbling at her nipples let them go and returned to holding her tight. Cordero then proceeded to slide his finger against her pussy lips. It was so hard for Lucy to hold back the tears now.

"There we go..." Cordero said, feeling the moistness start to form on his finger.
"Please..." she finally begged. "I'll... give you a handjob..."
"No, Chica, Lucy... that is not what Cordero wants."
"Don't rape me..."

He stopped touching her for a moment, locking gaze with her, holding her chin so she could not really look away.

"Do you know how many chicas I have had like this, Lucy? You are going to be number seven. If the first six could not convince me otherwise, what chance have you got?"

He unzipped his pants and pulled them down around his ankles; he was not wearing any underwear. As soon as it was free, it sprung up, ready for work. He pressed it against her stomach, rubbing himself gently...

"Unhand her!" the strong female voice echoed in the alley.

The four latino boys looked in that direction. There she stood, arms to her side, a tall young African-American woman, defiantly staring at them. Sammy, the thief, was closest to her, still holding the purse. He dropped it immediately and, instinct taking over, he charged the new woman whose stare hardened behind her black leathery eye mask. As Sammy came up to her and swung away, she deflected his hit with the right arm, grabbing his write with her black fingerless-gloved hand. Taking control of his motion, she lifted her left knee into his stomach. The impact of her strike made him keel over; and she pushed him down to the ground with her leathery black boot that went up to just below her knees.

The three thugs playing with Lucy saw that this new woman, whoever she was, had taken down their colleague. Rodrigo and Carlo let Lucy go, leaving her in the hands of Cordero, and moved towards the woman. They examined her in more detail. She had chocolate-colored skin, long black straight hair which she seemed to have tied in a knot at the base of her skull; she sported a gorgeous athletic figure which she covered with a leather ensemble, gloves and boots, a leather strap around her right thigh, black leather hot pants that molded her firm physique, and a black leather sleeveless top tied behind neck with a wide cleavage down to just under her breasts, giving a perfect of the roundness of her mounds in-between. Her midriff was completely exposed, from and back. But the tip of it was the black eye-mask, dead giveaway as to who - what she was.

"Hey! Cordero! I think we got ourselves a hero wannabe!" laughed Carlo.

Cordero was still struggling with Lucy, trying to force himself into her, but without his friends to help him, now that she had seen a potential rescuer, Lucy was fighting back, and Cordero was unable to position correctly to enter her.

"I told you to unhand her!" the heroine yelled.
"Who's gonna make us?" asked Rodrigo, flexing his muscles.
"I am... I'm Cowgirl."
"Cowgirl?" sneered Carlo. "That's a sex position."

The two thugs adavanced on Cowgirl, thinking of strength in numbers. They were mistaken. Instead of letting them get the lead on the attack, she charged them, causing them to lose confidence, if only for a second. It was all she needed. Her first to Rodrigo's jaw connected with force; her kick to Carlo's stomach sent him reeling into the ground. She was much stronger than she appeared. With Carlo on the floor, Cowgirl focused her attention on Rodrigo. He was swinging away wildly; she took his hit to her sides, bracing herself with the impact, then punched him again on the nose. As his hands reached his face to cover the injury, she lifted her knee into his stomach. He lifted a few centimetres off the ground and collapsed. Carlo was standing up, very angry. He started to charge towards her and actually managed to grab her by the waist, intent on slamming her against the wall with all his strength. While his maneuver succeeded, he wasn't able to injure her in any way as she hit the wall. Instead, she braced her feet against it and used it as leverage to strike him with a solid right hook. He sprawled across the alley, completely dazed.

Fortunately for Cordero, he had been paying attention to what was happening. He punched Lucy in the face, sending her to her knees with a torn lip, and pulled his pants up as Cowgirl advanced on him.

"Easy girl, we was just having fun... right?"

Cowgirl was not in a playful mood, advancing on the gang leader resolutly. Cordero reached for his boot and pulled out a knife, waving it threateningly towards the heroine.

"If you get any closer, I'm gonna cut you up."

Cowgirl stared at him with hatred in her eyes.

"This is how you pick up girls, Cordero?" she said, remembering his name from when his colleague had just said it. "Pitiable."
"Fuck you, cunt!"

He lunged at her with the knife; she intercepted it and grabbed his wrist, preventing him from using the blade efficicently. She followed her maneuver with a high kick to Cordero's chest, and a low kick to his knees. He fell down, dropping the weapon, putting his hands to his chest, panting as he tried to regain his breath. Quickly, Cowgirl picked up the victim's purse and then moved to the victim herself, helping her stand, pulling her underwear and skirt up so she could cover herself.

"Thank you..." mumbled Lucy.
"Don't worry. You're safe..."
"What did you call yourself?"
"Cowgirl."

There was an accent in the heroine's voice that told everyone she was not from the coast, but placing it was a different matter altogether.

"Come on," said Cowgirl, "we need to get you out of here and to a hospital."
"No... they didn't get very far... I need to get home to my children."
"All right!" Cowgirl acquiesced. "We'll get you home, but then you'll need to call the police and let them know what happened."
"Okay..."

Cowgirl looked back into the alley; the four would-be rapists were all down, thanks to her powerful strikes. She smiled, very pleased with herself. They had been thought a lesson and they would think twice about trying anything like that ever again. She then helped the victim out of the alley.

"That... bitch..." mumbled Cordero, looking over his men, still breathless from the assault. "She's gonna pay for that..."

***

Just north of Gateway park was a large touristic district that housed many high-class residences and hotels. Perhaps the two most prestigious of the city were the Baron Hotel, property of DynaStar-XS' very rich electronic mogul, Paul Parish, and the White Palace, a five-star establishment that only catered to milionaires. While the Baron hotel was taller and more impressive physically, the White Palace had a certain air of refined taste which was meant to please a very select clientele. The external architecture was of gothic influence.

What most people did not know, purposefully, was that the White Palace was actually an important historical heritage site for Eve City. That information was known only to a select few, and was kept under wraps, as it might have tainted the understanding that people had of Eve City and its rise. One man, in particular, knew all the details. Under the White Palace itself, there was a large subterranean structure. When it had first been built, about a century ago, it had been designed as a residential complex for many of the city's elite, in case of war. Eventually, the individuals managing it altered its purpose, making it a gaming establishment. From a basement-type dwelling, it had evolved over the years as more and more money was poured into it, into a high-class area rivaling the architecture of the building above. But only its current owner knew its history from top to bottom.

In one of the rooms of this underground structure, a caucasian male dressed like a butler was reading out loud information on an electronic pad. Comfortably seated behind his desk, a bald black man in a white suit was listening in closely to the report.

"Vegas Lane reports another successful carjacking operation. Five more vehicles added to the fleet."
"Quality, I hope."
"Listing says two Acuras, one Buick, one Volvo and a Nissan."
"So nothing interesting," sighed the black man. "Strip them, sell them for parts."
"Yes sir. We have the money from the downtown markets. The people who were refusing to pay us off have now been convinced to cooperate. No violence was necessary."
"That is good..."

The black man reclined in his chair, as his butler continued.

"There was a matter in Luther which may require your attention."
"Go on."
"Apparently, a new heroine has been spotted in that area."

The black man held back his frustration. It wasn't good for his blood pressure to get angry. Besides, there was no point in getting angry at this time.

"Do we have a name?"
"Cowgirl... all dressed in black. She attacked Cordero's men."
"Who is Cordero again?"
"The gang leader from that area."
"Yes... latino, small mustache, insignificant stare."
"That is him."

The black man rose from his chair, looking around the room. It was lavishly decorated, the walls designed with many gold trimmings. He walked up to a large picture of another black man, older with a strong beard.

"My grandfather took over this place when he kicked the slave runners out. Did I ever tell you that, Trevor?"
"Yes sir, but you may tell it again, if you so wish."
"No. That's not the point. The point is, my grandfather was facing men. Bad men who took pleasure in torturing his brothers. I face... women. Not just women. Women in costumes. Damned comet!"
"You are still in charge of the domain, Gentleman."

The Gentleman, as people called him, stared intently at his butler.

"How many are there now in the city? More than twenty, I think. I can't keep count. They rise up again, and take up arms against my criminal operations. They strike at my network, and I can't seem to get a grip on the situation..."
"Perhaps you should reconsider your stance about killing."
"No! Killing is for the weak... my father was a killer, and look where that  got him. No. No killing. I will not tolerate that in my city!"

The Gentleman was pacing furiously across the floor, but he stopped abruptly.

"This Cordero... how much is he worth?"
"He is only a small contributor, but he has never once wavered on his obligations."
"So he is trustworthy?"
"Only to a point, but he understands how business works."

The Gentleman rubbed his hairless scalp, pondering what to do.

"This new heroine... she needs to know her place. She needs to know what's in store for her if she continues with this interference."
"How do you wish to proceed?"
"Get Ken Paulson in touch with Cordero. Tell him to proceed like he did with the other one... what was her name?"
"Opal?"
"Yes. She's the one."
"Very good, sir."

The butler Trevor retreated from the room. The Gentleman headed back to his chair, calmer now that he had taken a decision. Paulson was a good operative - he would not fail him.

***

Monique West was ecstatic, singing in the shower as she lathered herself up, rinsing the filth off her gorgeous figure. That first outing could not have gone better. Those thugs never had a chance. She had seen the race into the alley and had moved to investigate, and it was lucky for the victim - Lucy - that she had intervened. She would have liked to apprehend the bad guys, but getting the victim to safety had been the top priority. The thugs had left the scene when she returned.

Monique cut the water off and stepped out of the shower, glancing at her naked figure in the mirror. She adored her physique, having trained hard to attain it in the past two months. She had been tempted, after seeing the heroic efforts of Ms Dynamo and Flare, to simply jump into the fray, but that would have been stupid. Preparation was key. She already knew how to fight from growing up in Texas, and she knew how to get it but keep going too. But this was about more than just training her body; it also implied training her mind. She wasn't stupid, not by a long-shot. She knew very well the risks she was taking, going out at night dressed in her leather costume. She had seen the humiliation inflicted upon the two heroines, but she had also seen them rise from it and take down their enemies. It was that kind of determination that had inspired her.

She wrapped a towel around her lean body and made her way to her living room. Her place wasn't too big, but it was safe, given the area she was living in. She had chosen to settle in the district of Luther in Eve City, simply because this was where she had encountered the heroines. Inquiring further, she had heard about the gang issues, the dark alleys, and it had seemed the perfect place for her to operate. There were no heroines rumoured to operate regularly in this part of town either. This would be her spot. If she eventually got the chance to meet some of the city's other defenders, she would not be against it, but this wasn't a fangirl situation. She wanted to help, to make things better for everyone.

She sat on the couch and turned on the television, tuning it to the new channel, to see what was happening.

***

Lucy Ongara was in her bedroom, reading a book. She had earlier returned from a second trip to the police station where she had debriefed the officers again on the circumstances around her assault., given descriptions of the perps and told them about her rescue from the vigilante answering to the name of Cowgirl -  they had never heard of her. It was past ten in the evening,. Her children were at her neighbor's - she babysat them while Lucy worked, and had agreed to keep them for the rest of the night, to let Lucy unwind from her assault of the previous night.

The light reading was keeping her focused, preventing her from revisting the trauma of the previous night. Unfortunately for her, she was about to get a very bad reminder.

The unfamiliar click of a weapon snapped her out of her reverie. She lifted her gaze to the entrance to her apartment, where she saw a man, all dressed in black from head-to-toe, cowl on his face, slits for the mouth and eyes, pointing a gun in her direction.

"Scream and you die,"  threatened the unfamiliar voice.

Lucy froze. In the soft light of the room, provided only by the lamplight besides her bed, she could barely make out anything, except a tingle in his eyes, something sinister. She quietly nodded that she would not scream. He slowly moved in her direction, keeping the gun aimed at her. She was trembling.

"If you cooperate, you live."

His words were clear, concise. Again, she nodded.

"Put the book away on your bedtable."

She clumsily closed the book and tried to set it down; it fell to the floor.

"Good enough. Pull the covers off your legs."

She was sitting in bed, the drapes drawn to her waist. With some hesitation, she pulled the sheets off, revealing her exposed legs. She was wearing a flowery nightgown which went to her mid-thighs. She pulled her feet out of under the covers and placed them on top. With his right hand still holding the pistol, he reached into a holder on his belt, pulling out a cellphone. He took a picture of her full body.

"For memory..." he hissed.

Tears were forming again in her eyes, and the trembling did not stop. He paid no attention to either.

"Who... what do...?" 

She started to speak, but the gun made itself more threatening. She quieted down.

"You will not ask questions. You will only answer mine with silent yes and no. Understood."

She bobbed her head in the affirmative.

"Good. Take off your nightgown."

Her eyes pleaded with him not to force her, but he was unmoved. He was not one of the latino men that had assaulted her the previous day, of that, she was certain. His accent was wrong, almost British. Reluctantly, she started pulling the nightgown off. She wore red panties underneath, and nothing else. Exposing herself completely to the stranger at gunpoint made her start crying, although she did her best to stop herself from making noise as the tears flowed. Once she was exposed, he snapped another picture in which she half-covered her breasts and kept her legs closed.

"A good start..."
"Pl..."

The gun made itself menacing again, and she quieted back down. He sighed, then started speaking in a strange staccato, enumerating facts without emotion,

"Lucy Ongara. 28 years old. Two children, two different fathers. The first one, a deadbeat thug now serving a twelve-year drug possession here in Eve City. The second killed in a shootout with the police a year ago when he resisted arrest after being caught with illegal firearms."

At the mention of each detail, Lucy's expression turned to horror. He was not done, however.

"Your mother still lives in Kentucky with your father. Their community centre has bridge games every Sunday, and your mother never wins. Your father still drinks his swill and smokes his DuMaurier, even though his doctor told him to quit. Your baby sister will be having her Christmas performance in three weeks. You are invited, of course - the invitation is in the mail. A small envelope, with a flower on it."

He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a small envelope with a flower on it. He tossed it to her. It was still closed.

"Open it."

She complied : inside was an invitation to her twelve year old sister's Christmas pageant.

"Now you understand?" he asked.

She nodded to him that she understood, and put the envelope and card on her bed table.

"Excellent. Remove your underwear."

She slipped her underwear off, putting her hand over her nudity as she did. He snapped another picture. She was now naked in front of him.

"Spread your legs for me."

Holding back her disgust, she carried out his order. He took one last picture of her full frame, then set the phone back into its holder on his belt. For a moment, she wondered if he was done, if that was it, if he had humiliated her enough. He retrieved a second phone from a different holder (it seemed to have some kind of stand on it), then handed her a piece of paper which he unfolded for her. She took it, her eyes perusing its contents, her eyes showing terror as her mind understood the words.

"Read this into the camera, nice and slow."

He started the recording. It took her a moment to get the courage to read the words.

"My name is Lucy Ongara... Last night, I... was having fun with some friends... when... the heroine known as... Cowg... Cowgirl... interrupted our fun and... beat... them up. Therefore.... I give this message to... Cowgirl... I am going to be having... fun... every night until you come.... and apologize... With each night.... (breaking character) please don't make me..."

The gun was waived in her direction, she continued.

"With each night... I will have one more... partner to... have fun... with."

She lowered the piece of paper; he snatched it away, tossing it to the side of the room. He set the camera phone on the bed table, aimed at Lucy, then advanced towards her, grabbing her arms, pinning her to her mattress. She started to beg; he slapped her and she almost fainted. He set the gun at his feet, holding her wrists with one hand, then he expertly unbuckled his belt with one hand, unzipping his dark pants to reveal a white cock, ready for action. He lowered his pants down to just under his ass. With his own legs, he spread hers wider apart, positioning himself above her entryway.

He turned his dark stare into the camera.

"This is for you, Cowgirl..." he said.

With that, he forced himself into Lucy, placing a hand over her mouth to hold back her screams and squeals. He went about his business in silence, while she barely strugged against his weight and power. Without more violence, he pumped himself into her, not even allowing himself a grin of pleasure through the mask. He held back his grunts as he completed his task, several minutes later. He pulled out of her, wiping himself against her covers. She closed herself up, panting, wheezing and sobbing. He recovered his gun, his second cellphone and stopped recording.

"Understand this, Lucy... this is not about you. You didn't do anything wrong. There will be no more visitations, and no one else will ever hurt you."

She managed to whimper through her sobs.

"Why did you do it, then?"
"To get my point across. Not to you... to her..."
"Cowgirl?..."
"Yes. She needs to understand we don't mess around, and you just got caught in the crossfire. If anyone, blame her."

He retreated and disappeared from the room, leaving her in the mess she was in.

***

"Are you insane?" Cordero asked as he stared at the stranger in front of him.

His name was Ken Paulson, and he had been sent by the heads of the criminal syndicates in town. Cordero didn't know why.

"Not insane, Mr. Cordero. Not insane at all."
"That girl will murder us, she will!" he cried out.

Ken Paulson looked at the four latinos hanging about the back of the bar and realized how amateurish they were, no ambition, no real drive. Definitely not the kind of people he wanted to work with on this one, but orders were orders, and he would not disappoint the Gentleman. But Cordero was not feeling his confidence.

"You... that video on the internet..."
"That video will get us what we need. You, Cordero, want revenge on that heroine for the humiliation she inflicted upon you (well-deserved, he thought without saying). I, on other hand, am here to evaluate how big of a threat she will be to our criminal operations. The two are not exclusive."
"We should kill that bitch!" the one called Sammy said.

Ken, from his blank stare behind his steely eyes, warned him.

"Kill her, I kill you. Take off her mask, I take your eyes."

The latinos had no idea exactly who this man was. He had showed up on their doorsteps yesterday evening, after midnight, and had plainly exposed the facts to them. They were to cooperate fully with his operation and they would benefit from it greatly. He was sent by someone high up in the criminal syndicates that silently ran Eve City, but they knew nothing of him. He was caucasian, british accent, calm and very dry in his speech. Short black hair, crew cut, square jaw, clean shaven. He wore all black. He was badass, that's all they needed to understand.

"Fine... fine... no kill."
"She'll come for you. She'll find you and try to beat you up. When she does, I will be ready."
"And you're gonna snag her, right?" inquired Cordero.
"I will do my job, what I'm paid for. You will follow my lead in all things, or I will put bullets in your heads... and if that doesn't work, I'll find your mother in Mexico, Cordero, and put a bullet in her head. Does she still have that old mutt... Pedro, is it?"

Cordero was stunned, even afraid.

"H...how do you know the dog?"
"I just do. So cooperate."
"Okay, okay, we will. Relax man. It's all good."

The latino gang had never met anyone as practical or efficient as Paulson, and they knew how much out of their depth they were right now. Their best bet to come out ahead was to play ball. Besides, it seemed that Paulson was going to help them get their revenge on that heroine who had beat them up. That alone was worth the price of cooperation.

***

For Cowgirl, there was no rest. It had taken less than twelve hours after the fact for the video to reach her ears, another hour for her to site, and she had not calmed down yet. The victim, Lucy Ongara had been rushed to the hospital, where she was now being taken care of and under custody. But Cowgirl was on a mission now, and the thugs that had raped Lucy - followed her home and assaulted her in her own bed - they were going to pay dearly.

Finding them might have been hard had Cowgirl not been so focused. She had returned to the scene of the first crime, the alley where she had taken them down, in the hopes of finding clues. There was none, at least nothing usable from two nights ago. However, inquiry with a few other delinquants in a side street (a little intimidating on the side) had gotten her a potential score. Cordero was known in the area, as were his three friends. They formed a small gang that basically did what they wanted in the district, unbound by any rules, and generally making life miserable for anyone but themselves. Although there was no official hangout for them, they usually hung in specific areas, and one of the delinquants thought they might be at the RedNeck Reserve, a sleazy dive where low-rent hookers were able to operate under the radar.

Cowgirl was not stupid. There was no way she could enter the bar and try to find her quarry. Her best bet was to position herself in a hiding place, able to see the entries and exits, and to wait. This time, she would strike them hard. She might even send them to the hospital, and she would definitely call the cops on them. If she had the opportunity, she would beat a confession out of them. Her mind played with the multiple scenarios that could happen once she spotted them.

The wait was incredibly boring, and the idleness made Cowgirl restless. She moved several times from one hiding place to another, trying to keep some feeling in her legs, as she saw men of all types enter the bar, then, a few moments later, walk out with a lady of the street. The flow was steady, at least one every five or so minutes, at least at the start of the evening. It died down after midnight, and the rest was just waiting, hearing the echo of the loud country from the bar echoing into the alley. The heroine's patience was wearing thin, but a little before 2PM, it was about to be rewarded.

She had climbed on top of a metal ramp on the side of the building; from her vantage point, she saw two individuals leaving the bar, and she recognized the two men that had been securing Lucy in the alley... Rodrigo and Carlo, if memory served. Only two of them. Good. It would be easier to start with than having to deal with the whole gang. She saw them cut through the alley, and saw her opportunity. They passed by her. Steadying herself, she jumped off her perch and landed flat on Rodrigo's back, sending him falling forward all his length, rolling to control her own fall. As Rodrigo hit the hard concrete of the alley, Carlo screamed.

"Shit! She's here!"

He barely had time to react before her first connected with his jaw; he lifted a few centimetres off the floor and fell back down hard on his ass. Her knees still planted in Rodrigo's back, preventing him from standing, she elbowed him in the back of the head, stunning him - she then vaulted over to Carlo and stuck her shoulder in his chest, pushing the air out of him and sending him fully to the ground; his head bounced on the pavement and stunned him.

Standing up, victorious, her two opponents incapacitated, Cowgirl heard movement from the alley where the two had come from. She readied herself, charging forward to break the charge of any incoming enemy. She ran straight into the one called Sammy, who barely had time to lift his gun before she punched his face. He keeled over, dropping his weapon, overwhelmed by the pain around his nose.

As he collapsed, a few feet from her, she saw Cordero. The latino with the ugly mustache. He was frozen in front of her, cowering in fear, unable to run.

"Shit..."

The world slipped out of his mouth before he could even realize it. Cowgirl said nothing, staring him down, not yet advancing on him, making him sweat. As she was about to step forward, a male voice rang from some distance behind her, a voice, with an english accent, she had heard before... in the video. 

"Cowgirl. I'm here."

She spun around. Three meters from her, standing very stiff, was a man all dressed in black, with a cowl on his face. His hands were behind his back.

"It was you!" she called him out.

He acknowledged with simple nod.

"You raped Lucy!" she screamed.
"I did. To draw you out and for no other purpose."
"You sick, twisted, son of a..."

She charged him, pouncing from her location, focused on attack. With expert ability, he stepped back, pulling out of her reach and drawing a long metal stick from behind his back, the tip of which arked with a small electrical charge. He extended the baton down to her midriff and, with her momentum propelling her forward, she was unable to change direction. The electrical ark hit her in the navel, on her exposed midriff skin. The shock spread to her system and she fell down, tazered. Immediately, the man in the black mask took a few steps back, allowing her to recover.

"I want you to know something, Cowgirl..." he started.

She was slowly getting up, the initial shock from the tazer having stunned her only briefly. Why had he not capitalized on her being down, she wondered.

"I do this for the money only. I have no quarrels with you or anyone."
"You sick twisted bastard!" she screamed. "You rape women for money?"
"I do the task that is required of me."

She lunged again but, this time, she was ready. Despite some numbness in her extremities, she still felt able to fight. He dodged right as she punched left, stepped back as her knee attempted to reach him, swerved away from another fist then, as she was about to punch his gut, he hardened his stance and took the hit. She was very strong, and he felt his muscles tense, holding back the air that was trying to push out of him. He struck with the electrical tip of the metal rod against the skin of her exposed left knee; it send her buckling to the ground. Again, he retreated several paces.

"Arrgh! Fight fair, damnit!"
"There is no fairness in fighting, Cowgirl."
"Who the fuck are you?"
"You may call me Ken, but that is all you will know."

She fought against the pain, massaging her knee to restore blood flow to it, then got back to her feet. The jolt had sent butterflies to her head. She felt queasy, but still able to fight.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Cordero attempting to move up behind her. She dodged his attack and elbowed him in the gut, sending him to his knees. As she was doing that, however, Ken moved on her and hit her on the left thigh with the shock rod. She fell once again to her side, and this time, the daze began to completely overcome her awareness.

"No... I..."
"Do not be alarmed," Ken stated. "You will not be killed, but there are things you need to learn."

He placed the electric tip against her neck - that last jolt was sufficient to completely knock her out. She collapsed into the street, at the mercy of Ken and the latino gang, as soon as they would wake up.

***

A wam bucket of water to her face woke up Cowgirl from whatever sleep she was in. It took her a whole minute to get her bearing and whoever had tossed the water on her gave her the time. The first detail she noticed was the chill against her skin, and it took her several seconds to realize she was naked.

"No!" she panicked.

But another second later, she realized she was not entirely naked. Her black mask was still on, as were her knee-length boots and black bracers.. however... her hands were tied behind her back, her arms bound together up to the wrists. She could barely move them, and the stretch in her shoulders was difficult to handle. The cold water dripping on her skin made her shiver. There wasn't much light in the room, only a bulb swinging on a rope above her head. It smelled of wetness and oil. She had been lying on the ground, but she could now rise. She no longer felt the pain of the electro-static charge used to take her down.

She finally located, through the haze, the figure of an individual, a man. There was a bucket at his feet. Her mind recollected the fragments of memory, and she recognized the stature. The man was still wearing his black cowl, shirt and pants.

"You bastard, I..."

She tried to stand but her feet felt wobbly and she collapsed to the ground.

"Do not try to stand," Ken said without emotion. "You have been drugged. You'll find your body is somewhat unresponsive to your demands."

It was true. The numbess was there, mostly in her legs but also in her arms - difficult to discern due to the fact that they were bound behind her back. She helped herself to her knees, looking up at him, staring defiantly.

"Well.... get on with it!" she called him out.

He looked at her, his steely eyes giving her a disappointed look.

"I have been paid to educate you, Cowgirl, on matters pertaining to Eve City."

He half-expected her to spit out at him, but she simply stared, her resolve unwavering. He was satisfied that, at least for now, she understood her place.

"As a newly self-appointed defender of Eve City, chances are you will come across many of my colleagues. While your presence in the city is, on some level, tolerable, even warranted, there are some aspects of the city which do not require your agressive touch."
"What is this?" she finally sneered at him. "Crime 101?"

This made more sense. He much preferred for her to resist. It only made the experience more empowering for him, and more memorable for her.

"There are three lessons to learn, as a heroine of Eve City, that you must accept if you are to pursue a career in this field."
"Career? You talk like I'm getting paid for this!"
"Aren't you? The smiles of the people you help, the gratitude of those you rescue, the defeated looks on your enemy's faces... are those not payment for your deeds?"

What the hell was his problem, Cowgirl asked herself. She had never heard such rubbish. She strained against the bindings on her back, to no avail still. She grunted her anger. He continued, very aware of her mental state but also confident that she could not break these bonds and, even if she did, he could easily take her down. She was a strong fighter and, under normal conditions, she could give him quite a run for his money. Down here, stripped and bound, even if she somehow managed to break free, he could easily overpower any resistance.

"You have already experienced the first lesson. There is always something stronger, faster or sneakier than you."
"Yeah... thanks for that!" Cowgirl mocked him.
"I could teach you again, of course, if needed."
"Get me out of these and I'll be the one to give you a lesson in pain!"

He smiled again through the cowl; this was more challenging than the previous heroine he had put through the ringer. Cowgirl would prove much more entertaining than Opal had. Breaking her was truly a privilege; Ken even considered giving the Gentleman back his generous incentive, but he figured he was going to earn it anyway.

"In time, Cowgirl."

He reached behind her, grabbing her by the arm and lifted her off the ground, supporting her weight.

"It is time to teach you the second lesson."

He dragged her into a damp corridor. They must have been somewhere underground, maybe connected to the sewer network, although why the stench of garbage was not present escaped her. The moisture was very uncomfortable for her. They walked for about twenty metres before reaching a metal door. He pushed it open and brought her in. It was a square room with another metal door at the opposite end. The walls were made of old metal, and the floor was carpeted. There was a metal table at one end. Standing beside it were four individuals, and she recognized the four members of the latino gang, dressed in blue jeans and t-shirts of gray and black. They sported several bumps and bruises; their eyes, full of nasty emotions, darted to her naked body.

"Shit!" she whispered.

Only Ken heard, but he said nothing. He pushed her forward, then forced her to get on her knees, facing them. She looked quickly at them, then back at Ken.

"And I suppose they're lesson number two."
"Not quite... but they really want to talk to you."

He motioned to the four latino men to come over. They walked nonchalantly towards her. Cowgirl smiled as she saw Sammy's swollen nose, possibly broken in the fight. He eyed her with anger. Ken motioned for Cordero to speak.

"So... Chica... you meddle in our affairs..."
"Bite me, moron!"

Cordero looked up at Ken.

"Discipline her!"
"You do it," calmly replied Ken.

Cordero lifted his hand up, as if to slap her, but Cowgirl flashed her teeth. He held back the motion, afraid she might bite him. Ken sighed. He grabbed the black ponytail and yanked on it, pulling back Cowgirl's hair, making her scream. Cordero tried to regain his confidence with some bravado.

"Not so tough once you can't punch back, hey Chica..."
"I only need one bite..." she challenged him.

None of his allies backed him up. Ken sighed again. He was really starting to wonder if these men were worth the investment that the Gentleman had sent. Still, his was not the place to argue the point. He motioned for Cordero and the others to step back. He pushed Cowgirl's face down to the carpet, placing his knee at the top of her back, pinning her there. She tilted her head sideways to be able to breathe.

"You motherfuck..."

She did not have time to finish the word. He slapped her hard on her ass, and she yelped in pain. He slapped her again, with the same force. And again. Four. Five. Ten times in all. Her buttcheeks were red by the time he was done, despite her chocolate skin. Tears were swelling uncontrollably in her eyes, and she cursed Ken with as many swear words as she knew.

The latino men were looking on, mesmerized by Ken's control, but perhaps moreso by the sight of the weakened heroine under his command.

"Get the camera," said Ken to Sammy.

He retreated to the table and picked up a recording camera with a tripod. He brought it near Ken.

"Set it up, facing the far wall."

Sammy did as requested, and started recording. Ken once again grabbed Cowgirl by her tied up arms and dragged her nearer to the far wall, at an angle where the camera could take in all the action. She barely protested, the pain in her behind still stinging. She had never been slapped so hard, and it had sent her reeling. She recovered by the same he sat her on her ass on the carpet, her back almost to the wall.

"I'm gonna get you, Ken..." she claimed.
"You'll have your chance," he simply replied.

The other door opened, and in walked a man, tall, muscular, but mostly naked. His entry surprised even the latino, as if they had not been aware he was standing just beyond the door.

"Hey!" asked Cordero. "Who the hell is this?"

The naked man ignored the question and walked towards Ken and the heroine. Ken answered.

"This is my associate, Sergei. He is here to help us teach a lesson to Cowgirl."
"Get him away from me!" yelled Cowgirl, examining him, seeing his half-erect dick pointing in her direction.

Sergei was not massive, but he was bulky, and nature had endowed him well. Cordero pleaded his case.

"But I thought you said we'd get something out of it."
"You may yet," said Ken, "but the lesson comes first."

Ken turned to Sergei, who gave a silent nod. Ken grabbed Cowgirl's shoulder, dragging her slightly forward on the carpet, then flipped her on her back so her head rested on the carpet, her arms squeezed behind her back. Sergei then got to his knees and lifted Cowgirl's exposed ass up in the air, bending her head forwards as her back was also raised off the carpet, freeing some pressure from her back but placing it in her neck. Again, the pain was vocalized in a grunt.

Sergei, now having access to her crotch, holding her legs apart with his strong hands, placed his mouth against her sex, starting to lick her up. Ken motioned for the latino men to get closer. They inched forward as Sergei went to work on the heroine's sex, focusing on making it moist and prepared for what was to happen next.

"Holy fuck!" Sammy said. "He's really eatin' her up..."
"Look at her eyes man!" Rodrigo called out.

Despite her reluctance and resistance, Cowgirl's eyes were rolling in the back of her skull. Sergei was gently stimulating parts of her anatomy which caused arousal, desired or not, and his touch, although hostile, could not help but draw out some response from her body.

"Stop it... ooh... no..."

Cowgirl's words were weak. Ken held her in place while Sergei kept working her up. Cowgirl tried to squirm out of the way; Ken motioned for Rodrigo and Carlo to hold her feet, so they did. With less struggle coming from her, Sergei was able to drive his tongue against her clitoris and lap it up with some strength. Cowgirl fought the pleasure rising into her, refusing to give them a single moment of satisfaction over her, refusing to acknowledge defeat. Ken realized her bravado, and he considered how to proceed. He made a motion for Sergei to stop for a moment, and he did. Cowgirl was panting but her breath was still regular; she was still in control. Denying her pleasure would not serve any purpose, thought Ken, at least not yet. He gave the go-ahead for Sergei to resume.

He went at it with more force, and she started to quiver from the pleasure she was fighting against. She felt her knees buckling, despite being restrained, and the man's tongue was now starting to reach the edge of her insides, past her entryway and into the folds of her sex. She snapped her lips together to prevent from making any sounds. The latino men could not tear themselves away from the spectacle.

"Is she really gonna come?" asked Cordero.

She was. She could no longer deny it; her body was reacting to the stimulation and she was on the verge of a powerful release. It was going to happen, and there was nothing she could do about it... She braced herself for the intensity...

And then Sergei stopped. Cowgirl was left breathless, waiting for it, anticipating, almost needing the orgasm that had just been denied. But just as it was about to die down, giving her a respite, Sergei slipped a finger inside her, and she moaned loudly. He proceeded to slide it in and out, tugging at her insides, and Cowgirl began to moan even more. Ken gave the go-ahead to Sergei, who placed his mouth back on the heroine's sex while his finger kept at it. Ken bent as far down as he could, whispering to Cowgirl as she kept moaning.

"This is good, no?"
"NO! oooh... fuck... It's not... oooh..."
"Tell me you want it?"
"Stop it... I... oh God!... make him stop..."
"Cowgirl, don't deny your body's need."

She was close, so damn close again, and he was doing a great work keeping her high.

"He'll only stop if you come... do you want to come?"

She couldn't bare it anymore.

"Dammit... yes... I want to come."

Tears rolled through the words as she spoke them. Sergei did not waste another second, and teased her clitoris with his tongue once more. It did the trick, and a powerful release racked up her entire body. The latino men were mesmerized by her face and the loud vocalization of her pleasure. It lasted several seconds, and then she ran out of air, so she took another deep breath, and the pleasure subsided. She panted furiously, angry at herself for caving in at his stimulation. Sergei lowered her legs back to the ground, and she titled to the side.

"Fine," she was able to say after a long moment of silence, "you made me come. Big deal. I was weak with pleasure. That doesn't change anything..."
"I never said it would," replied Ken.

Sergei gave a nod to Ken and set himself on his back, his dick sticking out into the air. Ken tossed a condom to Sergei, who slowly put it on, then Ken turned to the latino leader.

"Cordero, pick her up by the shoulder."

Motivated by the spectacle, Cordero did exactly as was told, supporting her. He had Sammy come over and do the same on the other arm; he then had Rodrigo and Carlo join in and grab her legs. The four latino men lifted her off the ground; she pointlessly struggled against them. It took a moment for the latino men to understand what Ken wanted. Once they did, they moved the heroine over Sergei. She was able to look down on him, and saw his erect shaft pointing at her.

"No! Don't you dare!"

Her resistance only inspired the latino men to go quicker. Her pussy lips came to rest against his hard sex, facing away from him and towards the camera in a reverse-cowgirl position. Sergei grabbed her shoulders and, with the help of the four latino men, proceeded to descend her upon himself. She was impaled on him, his thick cock pushing her lips apart and finding a warm place inside her. She held back any sounds, unable to ignore his whole length inside her. His grasp on her shoulders was strong, so much that she could not bend forward. Her high-heeled black boots rested on each side of his legs as he began to thrust inside her.

"Ooooh...." she was unable to restrain herself.

The motion inside her was slow and steady, rhythmic, almost sensual. Cordero leaned beside her, staring at her face. She gritted her teeth to prevent from speaking further.

"Chica... look at you," Cordero exclaimed, almost laughing.
"Fuck you..." she replied.
"I will, if I get the chance..."

The other latino men were looking at her plump chocolate-covered breasts or at the white dick disappearing inside her vagina, then coming out.

"Why... are you doing this?" she managed to say, aiming her question at Ken.
"This is the lesson. Failure breeds humiliation, and there is none greater for a heroine than to be violated in this manner."
"You're... just a perv... getting off on this."

Ken was not offended, but feigned it in his voice.

"Perhaps they are (pointing to the latino men), but I am merely an employee."

Sergei started to hasten the pace, and Cowgirl was unable to say more. She was being violated, raped, and the hard dick inside her was impossible to ignore. She was already stimulated from her previous forced orgasm, and she felt herself unable to deny any new ones. How long would it last, she wondered, until her partner was spent? Long enough for her to humiliate herself further in front of her enemies. The thought made her squirm even more, thus providing her with more unwanted stimulation. The panting was severe, overwhelming her ability to breathe, overriding her senses, as the pleasure grew inside her once more.

"I won't... ooh... stop... I can't... no..."

The words and her mind denied it, but her body provided her with a second release, more intense than the first. She felt her muscles clamp up around his shaft, and he grunted hard, firing away into the condom, his thrusts keeping her moaning all the way through his own orgasm. Cowgirl's gaze was lost in a haze, and saliva was drooling from her mouth. Ken motioned for the latino men to pull her off; as they did, they set her back on the carpet, and she collapsed to her side once more. Sergei took a few moments to recover, then rose from the ground, cracking his neck. Ken gave him a quiet nod; Sergei pulled the condom off of him, tossing it at Cowgirl. It landed on her back, in-between her shoulder blades, dripping a little fluid. Sergei walked out without a word.

"Hot damn!" cried out Cordero. "Never seen anything like that live!"
"Don't get used to it," replied Ken. "She is not here for the duration."
"Yeah, fine, whatever. We can still get a crack at her, right?"

Ken liked these men less and less. They clearly had no respect for proper operating procedure. Sergei had remained the consumate professional during his entire performance, never uttering a single word, acting on his role and nothing more, cooperating with precision and finesse. These latino gangers were clumsy.

"Perhaps later," finally said Ken.

He picked her up by the shoulder. She didn't even resist, still in the post-orgasmic haze, bewildered by the assault she had just suffered. Ken moved to the camera and recovered the tape.

"Hey man! That's ours!" cried out Sammy.
"This belongs to my employers, as proof of the deed."

The latino men all got angry, but Ken ignored them, dragging Cowgirl back  the way they had initially come. He dumped her on the floor where she had woken up. The cold and wet surface snapped her back to the moment, and she cringed, wanting to throw up. Raped... she had been raped. She wanted to be defiant, she wanted to scream in anger and retaliation, but she couldn't. He was there, overbearing, in control, having power over her.

"Understand this, Cowgirl. The second lesson is taught. Remember it well."

He took a few steps back, disappearing into the shadows. She leaned on her side, her head resting against the hard surface, and she sobbed, in silence.

***

It was now morning and the latino gang was back in the bar, alone. Cordero was pissed, walking up and down in all directions. All the staff had gone home, leaving the four men to wallow in their situation. Rodrigo and Carlo from the display less than two hours ago. Sammy was ambivalent about it.

"Man," said Rodrigo, "the look on her face was priceless... she's got such perfect tits."
"I know, right... just makes me wanna pillow them!"

They laughed, but Cordero snapped them back to attention.

"I don't like that Paulson guy..." he stated.
"Why?" Sammy inquired.
"He's not gonna let us have fun with her."
"How do you know that?"

Cordero turned to his men.

"I just do, ok!"

The others didn't understand what the problem was with their leader.

"What's up, man?" asked Rodrigo.
"What is up, Rod, is that this guy waltzes in, takes charge, and we have to jump through hoops. Just because..."
"Come on man," said Carlo, "he's with them!"
"Yeah... them... who are they anyway?"

Sammy got up from his stool.

"Seriously, Cord, don't go there... last guy who went there is sleeping with the fishes."
"That's bull!"

He turned to his men.

"Look, it don't matter. Bottom line is, you want some action with that Cowgirl-chica or no?"

There was a short pause, and Carlo answered.

"Well, yeah..."
"Fine. So we go down there and we get ourselves some action."
"Someone should watch out for Paulson, just in case..." Sammy stated.
"Then you do it, scaredy-cat!"

Cordero was in no mood to humor anyone. That display of sexual prowess had riled him up good, and he wasn't about to forego his prize, whatever that moron Paulson thought. This was still his house, and he wasn't about to deny himself the opportunity, not after having been deprived twice with that Lucy girl.

"Come on... follow me."

He darted towards the stairs and his men followed; only Sammy seemed cautious with the entire affair, but he followed the cue of his leader.

***

It was about a year ago that Cowgirl had lost her virginity. He was a handsome black stud, a friend of the family who had come over for a visit. He had fifteen years on her. He was so dreamy. He had stayed the night at her parent's place in Texas. She had tip toed from her room to the guest room where she had found him lying in bed. She had seduced him that night, crawling under the sheets, discovering his manhood, playing with it until he woke up, then kissing him. It had been a brief interlude, yet oh! so satisfying. Her first penetration.

He had stayed around for a few days and nights; they had done it again in the fields the next afternoon, then in the barn at night, the next day in the bathroom (while her parents and sister were out). He had been a great lover, showing her many different positions, always making sure she got off on them before he did. 

Right now, she was recalling those events, trying to recover from her ordeal, not too long ago. It wasn't really working - her mind kept drifting back to the caucasian man who had raped her, but mostly, it went back to Ken's voice, his english accent. Thinking about it, moreso than the actual act, made her tremble, almost like t had left a mark on her psyche. 

She heard shuffling in the dark and looked up, noticing three figures advancing. She immediately knew who it was, and now that the drugs in her system had mostly worn off, she was able to stand to face them. Cordero was in the lead, as usual, flanked by his two goons. They were still in the jeans and t-shirts; she was sitll exposed as before.

"Well, Chica... looks like it's our turn."
"Dream on, pigs!" she spat at them.
"Hey... she's still feisty. Boys?"

Rodrigo went right and Carlo went left. She eyed them with anger. They coordinated their attacks on her, aiming for her shoulders. She was actually able, despite her arms being bound behind her back, to kick Rodrigo in the gut, but the hit lacked strength; Carlo moved in and seized her shoulder. As she tried to twirl to bite him, he pushed her down to her feet. Rodrigo recovered and came to help. They got her to her knees and, though she struggled, she was unable to break free.

"Don't you dare touch me again..." she defiantly spat.

Cordero was feeling empowered now, and he slapped her hard, making her head tilt with pain. It added to the pressure on her shoulders. He slapped her twice more. The pain was excruciating. Cordero smiled with satisfaction as the heroine tried to gather her wits and ignore the pain.

Cordero fondled with his pants a little, pulling them down along with his underwear, exposing a, for the moment, less than cooperative unit.

"Here's how it's gonna go down, Chica.. You gonna suck my dick good, else I'm gonna ram it up your butt. You got a choice, see..."

Cowgirl was recomposing herself now. She said nothing, looking away. Cordero grabbed her by the chin, putting her face in front of his cock, some distance.

"You like spitting? Spit on it."

Cowgirl actually complied; her saliva hit the tip which was startting to rise in front of her.

"All right... she's cooperating. Good."

He slapped her again, but with less intensity this time. She still cringed.

"Now don't get any ideas... Open your mouth."

It took her a few seconds to obey, but she opened it wide. Cordero couldn't believe his luck, and she was going along with it. He moved towards her, placing his sex inside her mouth. She clamped her lips down on it.

"oh fuck!" he exclaimed. "I'm gonna fuck her mouth."

As he started to attempt to control the pumping action, he noticed he couldn't pull in any direction. Not only that, but a dull pain started to surround his shaft.

"What the....?"

Teeth. She was clamping down on it with her teeth.

"Fuck! Get her off me."

Rodrigo and Carlo tried to yank her away, but she was holding in, biting into him. He yelped and quickly slapped her face; she finally let go, unable to handle the pain and control her jaw. He pulled out and inspected his pecker; there was no injury, but he could see the teeth marks in the flesh. He slapped her again, and again. Despite the pain, she started laughing.

"I'll show you Chica."

He had gone limp, eager to get his revenge in another hole. He started jerking himself back up, but there was no reaction.

"Fuck!"

His nerves were shot. His anger was boiling and he wanted to slap her again, but he held back his fists. Instead, he moved towards Carlo, taking his place.

"Carlo, you get behind her and you fuck her good for me... 'til I get back up."

Carlo didn't argue the point at all. He let her go, swapping places with Cordero, and moved behind her, unbuckling his pants, whipping out his own unresponsive sex. As he started jerking off with his right hand, he placed his left hand between the heroine's legs. She was no longer laughing; she was struggling against the men's grip, shifting her body to hinder their progress. Still, Carlo was able to see, from his fingers, that there was still some wetness under her. This helped get him hard. He leaned against her, pressing himself against her buttcheeks, starting to slide up and down.

"No!..." she pleaded, still attempting to squirm out of the way.

It was all Cordero and Rodrigo could do to hold her steady. They both wondered how Paulson had done it seemingly so easily, with only one hand at some point. Carlo was now hard enough to consider the intrusion, and he paused for a moment.

"I don't have a condom!" he said.
"So what?" replied Cordero. "It's not like you're afraid of a little pussy..."
"But Cord," replied Carlo, "the other guy had one..."
"He's right!" added Rodrigo.

Cordero couldn't believe he was working with such sissies. There were condoms upstairs, in the bathrooms of the bar.

"Sammy!"

The figure of the fourth latino men appeared in the darkness; he was standing watch for the rest, as instructed.

"Yes, Cord?"
"Go get sissy here condoms from the bar."
"On it."

Sammy raced off. To keep himself hard, Carlo rubbed his penis against the crease of her ass. Cowgirl was still resisting, but for now, she wasn't preventing him from doing anything to her. In fact, she pressed her ass against his dick, sliding her ass up and down. Carlo noticed it but said nothing : this chick was really hot and she really wanted it. Who cared about a stupid condom anyway... but the other guy... he decided to wait a little further, enjoy the stimulation she was giving him. Cowgirl decided that, at this point, she needed to play it further, so she started gently moaning.

"What are you doing?" Cordero asked Carlo.
"Nothing... just rubbing against her ass..."
"Fuck that's good," Cowgirl let slide. "I love your cock against my ass..."
"Really?" Cordero asked, his question still aimed at Carlo.
"Yeah, she's grinding against me real fierce."

The other two latino men looked down and notice the swaying of her butt. Carlo grabbed her waist and proceeded to rub himself with intensity there. Cowgirl moaned even more, goading him on. Carlo was excited at the prospect of her cooperation, so he redoubled the intensity.

"Slow down!" said Cordero.

Carlo was not listening. Her moans were too much for him; he had been ready for some time and now, it was going to happen. Before Sammy could return with the supplies, he shot up against her back, his shaft racked with an incredible surge of energy as he wasted his entire load outside of her.

"Fuck you stupid shit!" Cordero spat at him. "You were supposed to fuck her pussy..."
"Sorry man, just got way into it..."
"Move away and get back here!"

Blood had returned to Cordero's unit, and it was getting ready again for the action it was expecting. Carlo pulled his pants back up and traded places with his leader, who went behind her. He used his sleeve to clean the gunk off her back and buttcheeks.

"You may have gotten off easy with my friend Carlo here," he whispered in her ear, "but I ain't about to go easy on you... I'm gonna ram you into submission and enjoy it."
"I have diseases," Cowgirl stated.

Cordero paused.

"No you don't!" he screamed at her, slapping the back of her head.
"Well..." she whispered, "only one way to find out, right?"

He was so mad. That might explain why the other one had used a condom. Maybe he should use one too.

"Where the fuck is Sammy?"

As if on cue, Sammy walked back into the light... but he was not alone. Ken Paulson was following him, still in his attire, still wearing his black ensemble.

"What are you doing Cordero?" inquired Ken.
"Well... uh... Sammy what did you do?"
"He caught me when I was getting the... condoms... so he..."
"She doesn't have any diseases, Cordero. She's bluffing. But if you try to take her, here and now, I guarantee, she's the last lay you'll ever get."

There was no end to the amount of frustration Cordero was enduring today. What a crappy team-up this was turning out to be.

"Fuck you, Paulson!" cried out Cordero.

Despite his reluctance to cooperate, Cordero stepped back and covered himself. Cowgirl breathed a sigh of relief. Ken took charge.

"Let her go now."

Rodrigo and Carlo let go; the heroine collapsed on her face, unable to catch her fall. Ken spoke to the latinos.

"If you want it that bad, head back to the main room and watch the video of Sergei taking her. You get a copy..."

The trio of latinos headed out, with Cordero casting a dark stare at Ken. The independant contractor told Sammy to remain, and they headed towards the heroine. By now, she had flipped on her side and managed to get back to her knees.

"Why'd you stop him?" she inquired, actually wanting an answer this time.
"Because he is a fool who does not deserve the reward."
"So that's what I am to you, Ken? A reward?"
"No. That's what you are to them... now this man (pointing to Sammy), he could have joined the others, but he felt this was wrong, so he came to get me."

She looked up at Sammy. He seemed shy about it.

"So now you grow a conscience?" she asked him. "After I've been raped?"
"Well, uh..." Sammy started to say, but Ken cut him off.
"He is simply looking out for my interests. Do not see anything more in that. You will reward him for it."
"Like hell I will."

Ken grabbed her by the throat, choking her.

"You have a choice here, Cowgirl... either you reward him yourself or I let him take his reward on you."
"Bite... me," the words choked through the compression.

Ken leaned in to her shoulder and actually bit into the flesh, making a strangled cry of pain rise from her throat. The bite didn't draw blood, but it left a red swelling mark.

"Ask yourself this question, Cowgirl? Would you rather be in control of the release you grant him, or would you rather he force his release upon you, like Sergei did?"

Cowgirl wanted to remain defiant, but the mention of her rapist's name - and the accent in Ken's voice... she felt more tears swelling up. She didn't want to be raped again...

"Fine... I'll blow him. But only him!"
"There was never any mention of anyone else."

Sammy was stunned, but mostly fearful, given what she had done to Cordero.

"But when Cord tried, she..."
"Because he had not insured her cooperation. You will cooperate, right?"

The threat was so thinly veiled, it cut through her like a knife. Her mind was torn between her defiance and her reluctance to be violated again. Giving Sammy a blowjob seemed the lesser of two evils.

"I'll cooperate... just... don't shoot it in my mouth."
"That can be arranged," Ken agreed.

He pointed to Sammy, who started undoing his pants, exposing himself to the girl. Ken motioned for him to sit down. He pulled on Cowgirl, leaning her forward while holding her form so she would not fall. Her mouth was over Sammy's sex, gently rising to attention as she stared at it. Ken started caressing Cowgirl's back as he slowly descended her on Sammy's manhood. Again, she wrapped her lips around it. Somehow, this compromise empowered her. She considered doing to him the same that she had done to Cordero, possibly more, but the presence of Ken holding her made her rethink her decision.

"Oh man!" panted Sammy. "She's got her lips wrapped around my dick!"

Ken started helping her bob up an down on Sammy. The latino closed his eyes, enjoying the moment, feeling her moist lips and tongue against him, blissfully enjoying the great sensation it provided. Ken, still holding onto Cowgirl with one hand, stabilizing her, let the other hand slide to her ass, caressing it gently. His touch was soft, Cowgirl thought, almost gentle. And Sammy wasn't so bad, she hazarded for a moment. She suddenly realized what she was thinking and started to struggle. But Ken was at her ear, whispering.

"Ssshh.... now Cowgirl, keep your wits about you."

His words were sufficient for her to regain her calm and she resumed her sucking. Almost as reward, Ken let one of his fingers reach down to her pussy and gently caress it. For whatever reason, it gave her quite a jolt of energy. Sammy attempted to place his hands on her head, but Ken motioned him to stand still, so he complied. She kept sucking on him while Ken toyed with the edges of her folds.

"ooh..." Sammy moaned.
"Are you near completion?" asked Ken.
"I... think so."

Ken pulled her up and off him, her head just above his dick. Sammy grabbed it and started to pump, his release at the tip of it. While that was happening, Ken started furiously teasing Cowgirl's clitoris, making her moan and pant hard while she neared her own orgasm. Sammy fired against her face, spraying her cheeks, nose and open mouth. The spunk rained back down on him, as Cowgirl closed her mouth - internalizing everything while Ken finished her off. Sammy did not move, his hand still wrapped around it, while Ken helped Cowgirl up, back to sitting on her ass.

"Sammy, thank the girl."
"Thank you Chica... that was the best."

She wanted to say 'don't mention it', but she really meant it. She never wanted anyone to talk about this ever again. She stayed silent. Ken grabbed her chin again.

"And what about me?" he stared at her.

She couldn't sustain his gaze. Looking to the side, she mumbled the words.

"Thank you Ken..."

He smiled. It was good enough for now. She was learning. She was almost ready. He turned to Sammy, who was starting to get up.

"Sammy, here's the deal. Cordero's not good for your team. You are. Talk to Rodrigo and Carlo. Stage a coup."
"What? Are you mad? Cordero'll kill me!"

Ken let the heroine go; she collapsed on her side, still distraught from what she had just done.

"Listen to me... Cordero is a weakling, and a weak link. You want to get ahead with us, you remove him. I don't care what you do. You'll be in charge, and then we can talk more."

Sammy felt empowered by his ally's words.

"All right... yeah... Cordero really ain't leader stuff... always puttin' his own needs before those of his men."
"Yes. He's selfish and ego-centered."
"All right, Ken... I'll get it done."

Ken gave him a gentle slap on the cheek, then let him wander off. He turned back to the heroine, lifting her to her feet.

"Come on. There's nothing more for us here."
"What... are you going to do with me?"
"There's one final lesson for you to learn, and then, if you pass, I set you free."
"What? Really?"
"Yes..."

She believed him to be honest, and it scared her quite a bit.

"But what if I fail?"
"If you fail, I put you on a boat and ship you off to Shanghai. The slave market there is always looking for more girls."

Again, Cowgirl knew him to be truthful. Whatever that last test was, she had better win it, or else her career as a heroine might be the shortest one in the books. Ken placed a cowl over her head to prevent her from seeing where they were going, and they sped off into the night, leaving the situation with the latino gang to resolve itself.

***

When the cowl came off, Cowgirl quickly adapted her eyes to the new light. 

Before leaving, he had covered her up with a long jacket of some kind and had brought her aboard some kind of vehicle. They had driven for roughly thirty minutes, but there had been too many turns for her to know where they were headed. So far, she played along, still unable to wrest her arms from their restraints. The vehicle had stopped in a much dryer place, and she had been taken inside a structure; the jacket was removed from her once she was inside, exposing her once more. By now, she was used to it, even if the air conditioning in the place made her shiver.

They entered an elevator and went up for several seconds. Cowgirl tried to keep a count in her head, coming up with about twenty seconds before it stopped and the door opened. The chill was even worse in this part of the building; she felt her muscles tighten and her nipples perk up. She was glad she still had her boots on, if nothing else.

Eventually, they pushed her inside a room and she felt someone - Ken possibly - follow her in. He finally removed the cowl and she contemplated her plight.

She was inside some kind of dojo, a mat on the floor, with a large mirror on the back. Light was bright in the room, four powerful neons illuminating the blue mat and her chocolate-colored skin, glinting off  the leather in her mask and remaining costume. The only other occupant in the room was Ken, and he was now topless, his face still covered with his mask. His well-toned physique stood out against the backwall mirror, and she could see it was as defined on his back from his reflection. The room was warmer than the hall, so Cowgirl was no longer shivering, even if she remained fully exposed.

"So what now?" she asked.

Her tone had changed from defiant to inquisitive; she was still looking for an opportunity to escape, but had since figured out her best bet was, for now, cooperation until the opportunity presented itself. Ken stared her down.

"Someone wants to see you fight, so we fight."
"Really... so I have to defeat you to win my freedom, is that it?"
"Not exactly..."

He started walking towards her; she became defensive, but he raised his hands in a non-threatening way.

"You can't really defend yourself with your arms behind your back..."
"How considerate..." she replied, a tone of irony in her voice.

He moved towards her, going around, and undid the clasps holding the leather restraints binding her arms together, one by one. The pressure on her shoulders released and she felt herself almost faint as the blood rushed back into her arms. Patiently, she waited as each clasp came undone, the ones holding her wrists being the last. The moment her hands were unbound (still wrapped in leather but free from each other), she immediately kicked him in the shins and sprinted forward, pulling away from him and bring her sore arms to the front. Although Ken was not necessarily surprised by the maneuver, it did cause a slight injury. He ignored the pain and gritted his teeth together.

"Not unexpected... I had hoped we had established a rapport.... I see I was wrong."
"You prick!" she screamed at him. "You had me raped, and then you forced me to blow someone... I'm going to break every bone in your body."
"Anger. Excellent."
"Shut up!"

She wanted to charge him, but she remembered her previous fight. Not only that, but her arms were still somewhat unresponsive, so was buying time to get them back into fighting form. He simply watched her from a distance, contemplating his enemy. She was definitely more inclined to battle than the previous heroine he had subdued. She could give him quite a run for his money, and he enjoyed the challenge. Her humiliation at her defeat and subsequent violation had only instilled more passion for revenge in her. It was not unusual, especially with her personality type. He wasn't taking her threat lightly either; with luck, and possibly skill, she could definitely injure him significantly if he was not careful. Giving her time to recover was risky, but it was the best way to prove to her that she was not at a level where she could cope with the hardships of the life she seemed to have chosen. It had worked well on the one called Opal, although he realized she had only capitulated after he had unmasked her. Perhaps that was necessary with Cowgirl as well. It was a shame, because without the mask, she lost her edge and what made her stand out from the crowd.

Cowgirl cracked her neck, stretching her arms to her sides, unmindful of her nudity or the suggestive poses her body took while she returned to fighting form. She needed to remain focused, to use her anger constructively. He didn't have the bothersome tazer, but that didn't make him any less dangerous.

"Okay... Ken... if that's you real name... let me recap. You raped an innocent young woman to lure me into a trap... then you captured me, tortured me... raped me - I know, you had someone else do it, but I hold you responsible - and all of it just to teach me a lesson?"
"Not simply for that..." he started, but she interrupted him.
"What lesson? That I'm a woman. That I'm vulnerable because I have a vagina. It's biology and I can't help it. If I didn't have one, you'd probably rape me in the ass, right?"

Her defiant tone had returned, and she felt empowered by the events. She had read about this while preparing for the operations (after reading up on some of the threats that heroines faced on a daily basis) and the psychology article had said that there were two reactions after a violation occured : defeat or rage. It was clear she was tending towards the latter, and it suited her fine. She didn't want to give um. She would never give up, she thought. It was just sex - forced, humiliating, degrading sex (like that scene where Ms Dynamo and Flare were naked and all covered in spunk - one of the first heroine sights to greet her as she had come to the city), but sex none-the-less. They had no power over her. So what if she had experienced pleasure from it? Her body was wired for it. So what if she had begged for release? It didn't mean someone owned her.

Oddly enough, all this reflection calmed her down.

"Here's the deal, Ken..."
"I'm all ears."

He was smiling under the cowl. Sensing her regaining control, while it did not suit the needs of his employer, made the situation more interesting for him, and he couldn't wait to find out what was going through her mind.

"We're gonna fight, and one of us is gonna win. Maybe me, probably you... I'm naked, and you have access to all my... attributes and openings. Which probably means that when you win, you're going to try to rape me. Am I correct?"
"You might be. Go on."
"And I know you're not fighting for your own benefit... you're like a mercenary, working for someone, and he wants to see me fight, get beat up, humiliated to an inch of my life."
"Maybe not so much..."
"Still," she continued, looking at the mirror back wall, "he's probably watching from behind there... or watching us on camera. Anyway, let's cut to the chase. You want to fuck me... then fuck me. Don't make a game of it. And don't pretend this has anything to do with respect or honor. You're a villain, act like one. Don't hide behind a fa�ade of demeanor or attitude!"

Ken was unsure how to react. He had expected her to resist, but she was taking charge, assuming the role of power in their strange relationship. Perhaps its was time to be more assertive. Before he could speak or act on it, however, static came over a hidden intercom, and a male voice, unidentifiable because of the electronic sounds covering it, was heard.

"I do not know wether to congratulate or pity you, Cowgirl."
"And the master speaks..." she said, in the same tone as before.
"He does indeed."

There was a pause; the sounds was coming from the ceiling, but she was no intercom. There was a long moment of silence.

"Well?" she asked. "What words of learning do you have for me?"
"I think we can skip the pretense, young lady. Don't you?"
"Agreed."

Ken looked away with discontent; he had not expected his employer to actually interrupt him during the exercise but, clearly, he was either unimpressed with his performance or very impressed with hers. The electronic voice continued its presentation.

"It comes down to a simple question of economics, Cowgirl."
"Economics?"
"Are you worth the trouble it is to keep you alive?"

The threat was real and, perhaps for the first time since the ordeal started, gave the heroine a pause for reflection.

"You are obviously not going to be convinced to back down. You are too head-strong. We could make you disappear, ship you out to Shanghai, for example, but I doubt you would last very long. It would be, in your case, a death sentence."
"You said it... for them."
"I could have my employee unmask you, learn your identity, and blackmail you with it... but I suspect you might keep fighting us unmasked."

Cowgirl really wasn't certain if she would continue to fight crime if her secret identity was exposed, but then again, if that happened, it might validate her mission even more. Still, they might go after her family to get to her. It was a difficult call to make, but she had to be brave.

"The mask is for show, but it's not who I am..."
"I see that."

It was impossible to get any emotion from the electronic voice. Cowgirl - or Ken for that matter - could not read the intent behind the words, or wether the bluff was indeed one, or not.

"Still, you make a very wrong assumption, Cowgirl."
"Which one is that?"
"Believing you are in control. You are not. We found you once, and we can do so again."
"Bottom line it for me, then. I'm a simple girl."

It was time to play all her cards. There was no backup, no rescue, no one to even know to start looking for her. It was all in her hands.

"A truce... sealed in battle."
"What do you have in mind?"
"There are certain assets that I, as citizen of Eve City, hold to heart. There are some, however, that are troublesome and require my attention, my resources to dispatch..."

Cowgirl got angry at the suggestion.

"I'll never work for you."
"Of course you will!"

There was an electronic laugh with the voice.

"Everyone in the city works for me. I simply don't have to pay them."
"So... what?"
"Keep doing what you do... hunt down rapists and murderers, violent thieves and reckless drivers... provide justice to these people. That is your goal, no?"
"My goal is to take people like you to justice."
"Noble... but start small. Build your way up. In a few years, you may even get a chance to try..."

She wanted to stare him down, but it was like speaking to a ghost. It made her angry again.

"And here's the second part of the obligation," continued the electronic voice. "Rackets are off-limits; drug and weapon distribution, you will allow to operate in your district."
"Never gonna happen."
"Let me put it to you another way... every time you take down one of my mine, I will exact payment on you."
"You can't break me..."
"Perhaps not... but I can break your arms and legs... I can send my men to patrol the night, find you, rape you... I can even have them target innocents just to draw you out."
"Don't you dare threaten innocents!"
"Ah! There it is. The heroic fiber. Very well... no innocents shall come to harm, unless you force my hand."

There was no getting out of this, realized Cowgirl. She was stuck. She could always promise and then change her mind, but that would mean they would go after her. They might go after the people she helped. It wouldn't be her fault, but she would still be responsible.

"I... dammit..."
"I know that is not what you want," the voice said, "but it is the only way you will make it out of here alive, and be able to continue your good works... And I promise that as long as you defend your district, murderers and rapists will have no place to hide. I will happily give them to you on a silver platter..."
"That's comforting," the heroine replied, unconvinced.
"They will have my protection... you, however, will be fair game, should you oppose me."

There was no other way, Cowgirl told herself.

"I can take care of myself..."
"We will see... Employee, you may educate Cowgirl in the final lesson."

The static from the intercom died out, and Ken readied himself for combat. Cowgirl braced herself as he advanced towards her. Ken was glad the interview was over - mostly, he was glad that his employee had not called off this third lesson. It was his favorite to teach.

Cowgirl steadied herself. The talk had allowed her to get all her composure back. She was weak from not eating and drinking for a long time, but that didn't matter to her at this point. There was one final obstacle keeping her from the outside world and her duty, and that obstacle was staring at her with a violent stare. This was going to be quite a fight., she knew. He was strong, fast and trained. He knew how to move around in a battle but, mostly, he was angry. She figured his employer's interruption had not been anticipated.

He lunged at her first; this time, she uncharacteristically sidestepped his punch, sending her boot towards his side. He blocked it, trying to get inside her guard to punch her in the gut; she braced herself for the impact as she retreated, and the fists only slightly grazed her. She followed it up with another kick, from the other angle, again blocked with both arms by Ken. He swung hard, but she dodged to her right and away from him. If she could keep him at a distance, she felt confident she had enough strength in her feet to seriously slow him down, perhaps even cripple him. He tried to press towards her, but she kept backing up, eventually hitting the wall. As he punched towards her gut, she sidestepped and his fist hit the wall. She was able to fire a direct right to his jaw, and he staggered backwards, impressed at the power behind her attacks.

"Truly, you are worth every effort..." he said.

She worried less about the flattery and more about his repeated attacks. She was able to counter and redirect most of his punches, but he was faster than her and at least as strong. Despite her best attempts, her kicks failed to deliver the promised relief from his onslaught, as he deftly either evaded or blocked them. Cowgil was panting hard, the lack of food and water now making itself known, but she couldn't give up. She allowed him to get closer to her, lifting her knee to his gut at the last minute to intercept him; it connected, not with as much strength as she had hoped, and his own fist was able to connect with her temple. Almost stunned from the hit, she sprawled to the floor.

He was on her within seconds, grabbing her from behind, her neck in a chokehold. She was able to prevent him from stepping on her back and straighten herself, but he held onto her neck with an iron grip. She felt the daze due to the lack of oxygen come over her.

"No... I can't."

A headbutt missed its mark, as did an elbow to his ribs. He held on, feeling her consciousness fading away. She was strong - as strong as any opponent he had faced before. She lacked finesse in her fighting style; he was much more versatile than she was.

"Give up..." he whispered to her.
"Go to hell..."

There was practically no force in her words; she blanked out for a few seconds, then tried to fight back with a last surge of strength. He held as tight as he could until she finally became limp in his arms. He relaxed the pressure but kept her in the sleeper hold. She did not budge. She was out. He laid her down on the ground, taking in a deep breath, recovering from his own exhaustion.

"It is done..." he said outloud.
"Not quite," replied the electronic voice. "She is fair game."
"Understood."

He dragged her to the middle of the room by one hand, then laid her out on her back. She started stirring, her head still in a fog. Ken undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and dropped them to the floor. He then dropped his underwear, exposing himself to her. She was barely aware that something was happening around her. He got to his knees, placing himself between her legs, spreading them apart. Something in Cowgirl's mind told her she needed to act, but her body was still unresponsive. Before she could do anything about it, Ken placed himself above her sex; using his fingers, he split its folds and penetrated her. The sudden insertion snapped her awareness back to an heightened status, even though her body still refused to fully react.

"No..."

He began to play with her, feeling her insides as he moved in and out. He felt her becoming more aware so he grabbed her hands and kept them to her sides.

"No... stop it... ugh..."

He was doing it again, personally this time. Still dazed, she started screaming obscenities at random; one hard slap in her face made her quiet, stunned by the pain. He kept at it, pumping into her with a steady rhythm, taking his time as she barely struggled against the embrace, her heart racing from this additional assault. He was making her feel good, and she hated him for it. It's not my fault, she thought to herself. I'm a victim... I did nothing to bring this on...

He suddenly pulled out of her. She was thrown off by the sudden shift as he spun her around, raising her ass so she would be on her knees. She tried to rise but he pushed against her back, pinning her there. He reentered her without violence and resumed his exploration of her sex. She was ready to faint from the exhaustion and the trauma, her body seeking its release while her mind raced against the idea. She knew she had very little control over it, and it didn't matter - it couldn't matter, she reflected. He would get his pleasure, she might get hers... but it would change nothing. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself.

Ken was ready to end it; he had been playing with her long enough this night to know that she was also asking for it, that is, her body was reacting to his efforts. There was no more to be gained from this humiliation, he thought. He allowed himself to come inside her, pumping deep so he would empty it all into her. He barely groaned as he came to completion before she did. For a moment, he considered going on, as he could, to insure she also found the experience pleasurable. But that was not the point, he realized. Worthy adversary or not, she had to learn the lesson.

She felt his warm seed inside her and she cringed, half in the throes of pleasure, half in torture. She wanted this night to end. She felt him lean over her, whispering in his ear.

"Every time you take down one of us, we will find you and this will start all over again. It won't always be me. The others aren't as gentle as I am..."

She wanted to say something witty, defiant, arrogant. It wasn't there. His dick was still inside her, slowly deflating after its release. She didn't feel empowered. She felt weak and defeated. He gave her one final slap at the back of the head, then pulled out of her. She collapsed on the ground, panting, not eager to go anywhere, yet wanting to be anywhere else. She felt the cowl be put back on top of her head, and what followed was darkness.

***

KnightHawk was on patrol when she heard the 911 call with the keyword redirected to her communicator. "Heroine in distress." It was in use now, used whenever one of them was involved in a situation and rescuers needed to come on the scene. Her GPS gave her the coordinates and she hurried, hoping to make her way to whatever heroine was out there in difficulty before any others did. She was lucky. As she rounded the corner, she saw no emergency vehicles. What she saw, however, told her all she needed to know. Suspended from a streetlight via ropes, tightly bound, was a lady dressed in black, struggling against her binds but unable to break free. She was unfamiliar to KnightHawk. African-American, black costume, boots, gloves and masks... exposed. KnightHawk stopped her vehicle right next to her and jumped out.

Cowgirl saw KnightHawk race up to her and climb the streetlight, cutting the rope that was keeping her three feet above the ground. Cowgirl fell down to the pavement but did not hurt herself. A moment later, KnightHawk was at her side, cutting the restraints off of her.

"Cowgirl," said the unidentified heroine. She felt worse than she looked.
"Get in."

KnightHawk helped her get into the car, climbed on the driver's side and started racing away.

"Cowgirl, I'm going to be asking you unpleasant questions... are you ready?"
"Yes..."

She wasn't truly, but she had to be.

"Were you raped?"
"Yes..."
"Did he come inside you?"
"Yes."

No tears were forming. There was quiet resolve in Cowgirl's eyes. KnightHawk was clinical in her approach.

"We need to get a rape kit. It have one at my lair."

KnightHawk drove off into the night, eager to get there.

"I have his name... the one he used. They called him Ken... wait... Paulson."

KnightHawk did her best to remain calm at the mention of that name, but Cowgirl saw her reaction.

"You know him?"
"Not personally, thankfully. But I have a friend who... ended up in a situation similar to yours."
"Who is he?"
"Ex-military, special forces... tactical analyst. He's got a borderline obsessive personality."
"Yeah... I got that."
"Who hired him?" inquired KnightHawk.
"Some electronic voice guy..."
"The Gentleman."
"Who?"

KnightHawk swerved around a corner. She was almost at her destination.

"Criminal underworld legend. A ghost. Many think he doesn't exist. I know better."
"And what does this Gentleman do?"
"Everything. He owns this city... well, its criminal underbelly, anyway."

Cowgirl could not see out of the windshield of the vehicle, so she wondered how KnightHawk could drive. The vehicle came to a halt.

"So... Cowgirl... you plan on going out again?"

There was no answer. The car doors opened and KnightHawk walked out into the garage for her lair.

"Come on," she said to Cowgirl. "Follow me. I'l get you cleaned up."

Cowgirl tagged along, but her mind was elsewhere, back in that carpeted place with Sergei, or in the damp room with Sammy, or the dojo mat with Ken... anywhere but here, where there was no more fight. They went up a few stairs, entering what seemed to be a medical bay.

"Where... are we?" inquired Cowgirl.
"My lair. Come on... I'll use the kit, get a sample... then we'll get you cleaned and dressed."
"What about my mask?"
"Keep it. I don't need your identity. It belongs to you."

Before KnightHawk could actually use the kit on Cowgirl, she collapsed to the floor. KnightHawk was at her within seconds. They looked at each other, and Cowgirl started to cry.

"You're not all right...." KnightHawk said, stating the obvious.
"No... no I'm not... I feel sick..."
"It's normal. Let it pass. This is not your fault, Cowgirl..."
"Monique. Call me Monique."
"Ok. Monique. You are traumatized and you need time to recover. I'm here. I'll help. I've been there."

Cowgirl looked up at KnightHawk and hugged her. The taciturn heroine froze for a moment, then handed her back.

"Is it always like this? I mean... being raped... it is some kind of initiation or something?"

The question disturbed KnightHawk much more than she could express. She didn't know what to answer.

"No... no it's not. I just happens, and you deal with it. You move on or you stop."

KnightHawk caressed Cowgirl's hair.

"Are you better?" she asked.

Cowgirl took a moment before answering, drying her tears.

"No... no I'm not. But I will be."

*** EPILOGUE ***

Lucy Ongara was still in her hospital room, under watch from the police, when Cowgirl made an appearance inside her room, coming in through the window. She was not unexpected, which explained why the young woman did not panic when she saw her enter. Cowgirl straightened herself, looked at the young woman under the blankets, barely able to look at her.

"I'm sorry," Cowgirl said.

It took a long moment for Lucy to speak.

"Did you rape me?" she finally asked.
"No."
"Then why are you sorry?"

There was no immediate answer, but Cowgirl tried to explain anyway.

"They... used you to get to me... if I hadn't..."
"If you hadn't intervened," Lucy said coldly, "I would have been raped in an alley, possibly by all four gangers..."

There was no reply to that.

"I tried to avenge you..." murmured Cowgirl.
"Did you?"
"No."

A long awkward pause was felt before Cowgirl continued.

"They caught me... they raped me too."

It was said without emotion. The women could barely look at each other, until Lucy finally swallowed her pride.

"Cowgirl, is it?"
"Yes."
"Look at me."

The heroine moved a little closer and made an effort to stare at Lucy, whose eyes were swelling with tears.

"Take my hand..."

Cowgirl took Lucy's extended hand. Lucy found it hard to speak, but the hospital psychologist had been around with her, all day, talking. That, talking about it, more than anything else, had given her some semblance of control over what had transpired.

"Not one person in a million would have stepped up to defend me. You can't be everywhere, and you're not responsible for what the b... the bas..."
"Bastard?"
"...the man did to me. I don't blame you."
"Thank you."
"But avenging me... that was the wrong thing to do."

Cowgirl did not understand what she meant.

"But... I thought... I mean... getting them off the streets and..."
"That's not justice," Lucy said. "Justice is me getting better, getting back to my kids and moving on. I'm not saying it didn't happen. It did. I was... raped. But it will not destroy me... it will be hard but... knowing you're out there, fighting for us... helping us. It will help."
"You think I should continue."
"I think... you got them scared. But you can't make this about revenge..."

Cowgirl stared at Lucy. She nodded. She understood what she meant, even if she did not entirely agree. She still had a duty to herself, and to everyone, and if it meant acting on revenge, she would abide by it. But perhaps she could learn from this.

"And you, Lucy? What are you going to do?"
"As soon as I get out of here, I'm taking my kids to the park, and I'm spending the afternoon with them."

Cowgirl smiled. It was nice to see that, despite the horror they had both been subjected to, there was still fight in them. They held hands for a long time until Cowgirl left.

THE END