WAS IT WORTH IT? A super-heroine adventure by InterestingLife featuring PINKETTE, based on an image by Exit-Zero (266). 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 ***************************** The latin community of Eve City had mostly settled in the district of Soledad. Just north of what was called the 'Rez', it was a poor district. But just because the locals didn't have as many means as in other districts did not mean money did not flow into the streets of the area. In fact, because of gang violence, at least as much money passed hands here as in other areas. The difference was simply that the money was not displayed openly. It was all hush-hush. Soledad was also not a place where many meta-criminals operated, simply because there weren't that many opportunities for profit. So when an important player like GreenFlame appeared, it didn't make headlines, but it certainly stirred up local attention. For its local defender, Pinkette, that meant extra work. Not that she minded. Currently, she was on the prowl, following on the last known whereabouts of the villain. It was still unclear what the bad guy was looking for. She knew from informant testimony that he seemed to have hired local goons, although why he needed them was beyond her. GreenFlame was empowered, unlike her - his hair was flaming green, litterally flames on top of his head. Apparently, they only burned if wanted them to. In typical villain fashion, he had adopted an eccentric-looking costume, a full-body suit of aluminum-style fabric. Perhaps there was a practical reason behind it. Pinkette didn't really care. The other odd part of the villain's behavior was the lack of grand-standing. He had come in quietly, and had only been seen around the district, not in any criminal capacity. Being a known criminal, there were warrants out on him, but it was rare for the police to actually do a raid in the district, mindful of the gangs that operated. Pinkette wasn't one for speculating. Get in, get the bad guy, get out. That was her motto. She couldn't think like KnightHawk, couldn't fly or break stuff like Andromeda, but she could act. She had energy to spare, a little ball of emotion barely contained in a pink form-fitting uniform, sports bottom and bikini top which gave away no cleavage, eye mask, fingerless gloves to her mid-forearms, short boots. She kept her brown hair braided, close to her head. Right now, her quarry was a low-level thug by the name of Ramo, a buy she had previously beat up while he was running drugs to high school students. He couldn't claim to be on the straight and narrow but, at least, he was peddling his drugs to adults now. Pinkette could live with that. What she could not respect was that, according to the rumor mill, Ramo had furnished GreenFlame with undisclosed materials. Pinkette needed to know what they were. Hence, the stakeout, waiting for Ramo to exit the drugstore and get to his car. She saw him exit, a brown bag in hand, and head for the vehicle. He sat in the driver's seat and placed the key in the ignition. Before he could drive off, Pinkette pounced. wrapping her arm around his neck from the backseat. He squealed like a girl, half-choked. "Hi Ramo!" "What the... Pinkette? You're choking me..." "That's the plan..." He was trying to get free, but her headlock was too strong, even for him. She had him cornered. "How've you been, Ramo?" "What... d'ya want...?" Straight to business. She could work with that. "You've been awfully busy," she stated, still pinning him to his seat, "and not in your usual way. You've been seen with GreenFlame, and I need to know why!" To emphasize her desire to know more, she increased the level of choke for a moment. She knew how interrogations usually went. People would deny constantly, until pressure was applied to the right spots and then, they would change their tune. She was not in the mood for the whole process. "I know you want to remain in my good graces," she added. "Fine..." he conceded. "He wanted... a location for... something." "A location? There was a handoff. What did you give him?" "Drugs... he wanted recreational drugs..." This was surprising. Given his level of importance in the city, Greenflame could have scored drugs anywhere from a hundred places, yet, he had chosen to come here and score them. Why would he do that? "That location you gave him...?" "It's a motel under renovation... not far from here... the Castillo." PInkette knew the place. It had been damaged this summer, in late July, by some kind of giant robot that had made its way across town. Most of the motel's structure was intact, but the roof had been blown off, and practically all windows had shattered. The owners didn't have enough money to do all the repairs, so they had sold it to a new owner who was taking his sweet time rebuilding it. "What did he want with the Castillo?" "Beats me..." Ramo had done his best to give her accurate information, so she decided that she wouldn't inflict any more pain on him today. Before letting him go, she still chided him, a little more. "Pay attention to the company you keep, Ramo, or else, this little arrangement might abruptly end..." She let him go and quickly exited the car before he could fully regain his senses. He barely had time to see a blur of Pink disappear inside an alley. As he caressed his tenderized neck, he pictured a role reversal in his mind, where she became the subject of his interrogation, and it helped him deal with the fact that he had just been humiliated by her - yet again. So she was going after GreenFlame, he thought. What to do about it? Would Greenflame retaliate on him if he found out he had spilled his guts? The question lingered for a while, as Ramo considered his options. ***************************** Pinkette had dropped by her place before heading back out. She had picked up the phone and made a quick call. I rang only once, and a female voice answered. "Yes?" "Hello, this is Livia. Can I speak to Maddie?" "Of course. Hold on." It took a few moments for Maddie to come on the phone. "Hello?" "Hi!" !Hey! Livia! I'm so glad you called. When are you coming over?" "Soon... how are you, Maddie?" "Not too bad. It's quiet here." "Quiet is good." "And yourself?" "Keeping busy." There was a long silence between the two. Maddie knew exactly what her friend was referring to. It was how they had met. Even now, almost three months later, it was difficult to recall. The friendship had yet to fully overcome the trauma. "Need any help...?" "As much as I would love to, Maddie, I can't take that chance with you." "And you?" "My body, my choice..." "Well, it's my body..." "No. Not yet. Not until you're done, at least. You need to take care of yourself. Then, we'll talk." "Okay." Again, another moment of silence crept in over the phone. Neither could ignore the circumstances which had brought them together, as friends; Maddie's disappearance from her home, the manhunt, Pinkette joining in, finding the Slavers compound, the attempted rescue, the subsequent capture, the repeated violations on one and the other until, finally, Pinkette had managed to break out of her bonds. They had simply escaped and summoned the police. A few of the slavers had been arrested; the others had vanished. Pinkette had been on the pill. Despite how many men had come inside her, or how many times they had repeated the ordeal, it left no lasting consequences. But for Maddie... she had chosen to have the child, and so she was now under the care of a boarding house that helped young women who lived with these circumstances. Pinkette did not understand her friend's choice, but she respected it. "Be safe," Maddie finally said. "I'll do what I can." "I love you." "I know. Same." Both hung up. It wasn't passionate sexual love, although it had turned sexual right after their escape. It was more of a sisterly thing, with privileges, mused Pinkette. Before she went out there, to fight the good fight, to hunt for bad guys, she always liked to touch base and remind herself why she did it. But recollection was over. Action was next. ***************************** It had been a while since GreenFlame had been in Soledad. Ever since the comet's radiation had struck the city, transforming him, fusing all of his body hair into bright green flame. All of it. At first, it had been a curse, as he had been unable to control its effects. It had landed him in jail, under the care of the MTD for a while, until someone arranged his escape. SInce then, GreenFlame had lived, not quite on the run but as close to it as could be. His outlandish appearance made it impossible for him to hide in plain sight, so he had to resort to playing the criminal, a role he had not wanted at first but had discovered he could carry out well. Emil Suarez. That used to be his name. Everywhere else, they now knew him as GreenFlame. But here, in Soledad, he was still good old Emil, the kid who used to hand around the skate park with his buddies. The kid who used to hitch a ride on the back of the paper delivery truck. The kid who threw stones at windows and blamed it on his enemies. Here, in his old stomping ground, Emil Suarez almost felt home. Almost. The place had changed quite a lot in the past year-and-a-half, since the Comet, since his changes and the appearance of the superheroines, meta or otherwise. At first, he had wanted nothing to do with them. But being different had made him a target, and when the manhunt of the MTD started rounding out metas, Emil had resisted, blasting his way through whatever the city threw at him, unwilling to spend his nights in jail or, worse, in a laboratory. It had taken the power of Plasma to take him out. He had spent three months in jail, making buddies with some of the other villains taken down in the other raids across the city. When offered the chance to get even, he had hesitated : he wasn't in the habit of holding a grudge, but the money was good, so he had worked for professor Zzyzx for a while, learning to better harness his powers. His now classic aluminum lined containment suit had been a recruiting incentive from the mad scientist. The opportunity for actual revenge had not come until many months later, last April, when both Plasma, Solara and Ghost had fallen into a trap laid for them, where GreenFlame happened to be involved. Seeing them bound, stripped and then humiliated, he had lost it and raped all three. To this day, he could still recall the smell of the sweat on their powerless bodies, and the exquisite roundness of their forms as he proceeded to violate them along with his partners in crime. Before that day, he had never even considered the possibility; now, he could barely not consider it. It seemed almost a waste not to enjoy the delectable bodies of these empowered women, and he had enjoyed the unwilling company of others on different occasions. After Janus had laid waste to the heroines last May, he had managed to capture an incapacitated Ricochet and fuck her almost in public (even if everyone's attention was on the fight between the heroines and Janus). Another time last August had brought him to confront the duo of KnightHawk and Flechette; while they had thwarted his contract to retrieve experimental fuel cells from the local Orion laboratory, he had extracted his vengeance on their bound forms, letting his hired henchmen have their fun too. More recently, he had come upon the unpowered heroine Shuriken, trying to stop a criminal act in progress. Quite easily, he had taken her down and taught her a lesson about interference in criminal activities, leaving her slightly burned in the process. He had tried to follow up on her whereabouts, to see if he could uncover where she went for medical help, but was unable to track her movements, so he had let her go. What he remembered most from the encounters with the heroines was the look on their faces as he forced them to orgasm, using his hands, his mouth, his penis, toys. He thought of taking a picture once, to seize the moment, but realized quickly that the memory of it was that much more intense if he did not have a visual reference. He had never once touched a woman that was not wearing a heroine costume; somehow, preying on innocent victims, or even female cops, did not reach his sensibilities. Forcing sex upon a heroine meant overpowering her, and that was the real challenge. The first orgasm with the heroine was always the strongest, he had found out, when she still had some fight in her; after his first agression, he had decided that, were a heroine to fall into his hands, he would only use her once, and then let her go. The memories of all these past deeds vanished as the old car stopped a few feet from the alley where GreenFlame was hidden. He stepped out of the shadows, waving to the driver, who got out. The plan was on schedule. He had the location and the drugs. All that was missing was the featured guest. ***************************** Pinkette woke up from whatever sedative had been used to drug her. She felt like she couldn't have been out more than an hour or so, but her head still throbbed from the remains of the substance left in her bloodstream. A trap, she thought, remembering her overt approach into the abandoned Castillo motel. Perhaps not her brightest move; then again, she had figured she wouldn't actually find anyone on site, but rather a trail that led somewhere else. A mistake, obviously. Whoever had shot her with the dart from the shadows had been lying in wait. She was stripped, but that was no surprise. They had kept her mask on, as well as her hands and boots. Why, she wondered. They had done the same the previous time she had been stripped. She understood about the mask creating a mystique around her, but why the boots, unless there was some sort of fetish in the criminal element she had never heard about... The room was cloaked in darkness and she could barely make out the details. She heard some whispers around her; her hands were bound behind her back, and her feet were equally restrained. She felt the gag on her mouth. She tried to mumble something through it, but a small kick to her exposed back stopped that. "Quiet!" whispered a voice. There was giggling in the room. What was going on? This was the strangest capture ever, she thought, not that she'd been on the receiving end of too many. That first time, of course, rescuing Maddie from the slavers, would remain memorable. Here, in the darkness, waiting for what came next, Pinkette could distinctly recall how the head slaver had stripped her, placed a gun to Maddie's head, and forced the African-American heroine to blow her. The salty taste had lingered long in her mouth after that; it hadn't helped that she had been forced to do the same to all four of her captors, in order to protect the innocent. It had been a strange, arousing sensation; despite the rudeness and wrongness, it had given her an amount of stimulation, if not pleasure. In the year before that, one of her fuck friends had tried bondage on her, and she actually enjoyed the experience. In a very perverted sense, being violated was almost the same for her. But Pinkette knew she was special, different in this matter. Later that night, the five men had bound both girls and what had ensued could only be called a rape orgy. They'd used their fingers, their dicks and many toys on her and on Maddie; two of them had emptied themselves in her, while Maddie had been on the receiving end of three of them. They had impregnated her too. What orgasms these men had provided Pinkette. To be truthful, despite her protests, she had been thoroughly pleased. It had something to do with a switch in her head, she believed, something that she could snap on and off. Of course, she had only come to that conclusion after the fact, reflecting on the events in the cold light of reason. There had been a third violation in that rescue, as two of her captors had taken her vaginally and anally in the middle of the night; she had played along so well that they had uncuffed her hands in the middle of it. She had allowed them to finish pumping her full of their juices (and giving her quite a ride) before turning on them and taking them out. Those two now rotted in jail. The other three had flown the coop once they realized Maddie and her had escaped. After that ordeal, Pinkette had been more careful when taking down enemies. She had managed to avoid capture and humiliation until well a month past after that. Tracking the whereabouts of an exotic dancer that had gone missing from a strip club in Soledad, Pinkette had fallen upon her pimp. He had (forcefully) given her information on the lady's whereabouts : she had been traded to another place. Doing her recon in civilian garb, she had found the place to be a nest of illegal prostitution. Unfortunately, she had not been allowed to leave. She had then joined the ranks of the girls who were to be part of a pornographic movie, a gang bang event. Ten girls, twenty men, and a whole lot of lube. The fuck fest had dragged on for hours, with the girls first taking turns on each other, then the men taking charge. In all honesty, despite the forcefulness of the event, Pinkette was forced to admit that it was one of the best sexual experiences in her life. The smell of sweat and flesh was still sometimes perceptible to her nostrils. She remembered how full she had felt with six guys on her (pussy, ass, mouth, breasts and hands) and how powerful it had made her feel. Of course, she was also proud of how she had managed to distract one of the guards with a very well-calculated blowjob and takedown so she could call in the cavalry to rescue the girls. She had kept the copy of the pornographic shoot for herself; she was fairly certain it was out there in cyberspace, but she didn't care. That had been barely three weeks ago. Now, from what she understood, she was ripe for a repeat of the sexual degradation that came with the territory. She felt herself terribly excited at the prospect. Suddenly, a door in the far corner of the room opened, and two men walked in from the light of the corridor. "Yeah," said one of the men entering, "but I don't see what the big deal is." "You'll see." Suddenly, the lights went on, and the people gathered in the room in silence popped up, calling out a very simple yet poignant : "Surprise!" One of the men entering the door, the one that had switched on the lights, was GreenFlame, in his traditional aluminum-looking costume. The other was latino, possibly younger, and he looked happy but stunned to see all the people there. "Did you...?" he started blurting out, but GreenFlame cut him off. "Happy birthday, brother!" Birthday? What the hell did that mean? Pinkette glanced at the people around. Mostly boys, two women, all of various Hispanic origins. All unbound. She was the only captive in the room. "Wow, Emil!" the brother said, "I can't believe it." "Believe it, Luis," GreenFlame replied. "Come on! You're twenty-one now. I had to..." Luis' gaze was scanning the room, and it fell on Pinkette. "Oh my God!" he screamed like a little girl. Emil brought his brother closer to the stripped and bound heroine. "Is she... Pinkette? Oh my! She is." "Yeah. Your very own superheroine, to do with as you see fit." "Ah man! Best gift ever." Gift? It didn't take a rocket scientist to understand what the empowered freak meant by it. She hadn't been captured as part of any ploy. Recreational drugs. An abandoned hotel. Perfect items and place for a birthday party. Luis' party. And she was the present the villain was offering up. Pinkette sighed, knowing full well what was going to happen next. ***************************** The party was over now, and Pinkette was lying on her side, tired and defeated. The drugs in her system were slowly losing their grip on her perception. Her legs ached, while her loins were still ablaze from the assault inflicted on them within the past hours. She was no longer restrained, although her body had yet to fully recover. For the moment, she was content to lie on her side and wait for the room to stop spinning. Mostly everyone had gone, including Luis, but GreenFlame was still there, somewhere... she had seen his feet walking about from her vantage point, and she imagined they were still connected to his legs, and his legs to the rest of him. "So... that was one heck of party," GreenFlame's voice echoed. Pinkette didn't answer. She wasn't angry at him or the other guests for what they had put her through. She wanted to be, but she couldn't. Ten or so orgasms usually tended to make her quite compliant, at least in the immediate aftermath. She was terribly disappointed at herself for falling victim to the trap. The first thing they had done was drug her, injecting a foreign substance in her muscles to make her less agressive. Light-headedness had kicked in as well as lowered inhibitions; her words had remained defiant as they had taken the gag off, but her body refused to resist the bondage or subsequent suggestions. With music playing in the background, she had danced on stage for everyone's benefit. After that, well.... memories became blurry. She remembered hands on her body, lots of hands, restraining her movements. She remembered penetration, but it was hard to tell how many men had enjoyed her pussy's welcoming embrace, or her mouth's warm orifice. Most probably all of them. Or perhaps it was just one, long drawn out session with a single partner, Luis Suarez in this instance, the birthday boy. "I have to say, Pinkette," GreenFlame said, "you are one lucky girl, to be able to enjoy sex so much. I've rarely seen such pleasure in a girl..." "What can I say..." she slurred out from her haze. GreenFlame walked up to her, picking her up by the hair and shoulders; he lifted her off the ground and dragged her to a couch. "My brother isn't about to forget what we did here today... I wanted to give him the best party ever, and I think I delivered. You know, he's a big fan, ever since you started being seen around Soledad, he's had this fancy for you." "He could simply have asked for an autograph..." she tried to joke. "We both know that's not what your fans want from you, dear..." He left her there, turning to the television screen which he turned on. He played with the channels, setting it on video input. A loading menu with videos appeared on the screen. GreenFlame turned back to her. "My brother wanted a memento of his time with you, so we had someone record the entire scene. It was... well, it wasn't an Oscar-winning performance, to be honest, but everybody enjoyed it immensely. Perhaps you'd like a repeat?" Pinkette's mental wits were back, and she felt her own body starting to respond to her demands, but she decided to play along a bit longer, at least until she felt more confident. "I'm guessing this is not a multiple choice question..." "You're right, of course. Frankly, Pinkette, I'm impressed. When I captured and tortured KnightHawk and Flechette over the summer, they were all about fighting back, threatening retaliation, claiming injustice... but you... you're playing it cool, as if it was nothing..." She looked him in the eye before speaking. "It was nothing, ugly..." "Really?" GreenFlame started the video. It showcased Pinkette in the center of the screen, exposed, held in place by several individuals who restrained her movements, while Luis Suarez positioned himself behind her, entering her pussy from behind. Her face could be seen contorting with pleasure and pain as he forced himself on her, while GreenFlame gleefully watched his brother from the sidelines. "Can you deny it? Can you still claim it was nothing? This is proof, and it's already on the internet, in case you were wondering. Your entire ordeal is being used as pornographic material for hundreds if not thousands of pimple-faced teenagers and pervert old men." "I do look hot," she said, staring at the image. "He wasn't the only one, either. He was just the first. I can fast forward to the gangbang part of the video, if you'd like..." "If you want to, I don't really mind." Her tone was sincere; it was somehat infuriating to GreenFlame. He let the video run, staring her down. "You can't be immune to this." "I'm not. I just choose not to let it faze me. You really think you're the only one who's done this to me? First time was shocking, but I got over it. Maybe I like it now. Maybe I can't get off on regular sex anymore, ever think about that?" Of course, GreenFlame had considered the possiblity, like many of his fellow villains. The costumed sluts, they called them. On screen, Luis Suarez was coming to the end of his performance; the camera closed in on Pinkette's pussy as the dick came out, and fluids flowed from inside her, falling to the floor. Pinkette looked at the picture with disdain. "Well, he didn't last long..." GreenFlame, for whatever reason, lost his temper. His hand struck Pinkette's cheek hard; she fell sideways on the couch. "I'll show you..." he whispered. With some violence, he pushed Pinkette to all fours on the couch, slapping her ass hard as he did. She yelped, unable to hold back the feeling overcoming her. GreenFlame pulled on the trousers of his suit, whipping out his fully shaven cock. With two fingers, he caressed Pinkette's pink lips; the contrast of his gloved fingers on her dark skin turned out to be very appealing to the villain, whose arousal triggered the obvious reaction. "Don't you dare..." Pinkette spat out, goading him on. GreenFlame didn't need any convincing. He planted himself inside Pinkette a few moments later, and did not let up for several minutes. The video kept playing on the television; Pinkette tilted her head to watch her previous performance (watching the many men at the party have their way with her), while whole-heartedly submitting to the violation GreenFlame was perpetrating on her at the same time. It was quickly too much for the villain, unmindful of anything else; he painted the insides of Pinkette's pussy with his load, groaning all the while, enjoying the rapture as much as he was - although she played the part of the reluctant victim. He stayed inside her, still hard, for some time. "Wow girl... I guess you are special..." Pinkette was still panting from the effort. GreenFlame pulled out of her, tucking it back in his pants. For a moment, Pinkette wondered if she should attempt to take him down. She was almost fully recovered, even after the pounding he had just given her. She decided to wait to see what he would do. As it turned out, he pulled away. "I guess I'll be on my way," he mumbled confidently. It didn't take much more than that. Pinkette leapt off the couch and into the air, tackling him hard to the floor; flipping him across her shoulder, she rammed his head into the television, still playing out her previous performance. The glass shattered and GreenFlame was momentarily stunned. A solid right landed on his jaw, then Pinkette swung over the shattered television, grabbing its electrical cord, and wrapping it around GreenFlame's neck. The villain immediately started choking; his hair went more ablaze than ever, the green flames flickering on top of his head, but Pinkette held on. It took a long time for her to finally take him out as he struggled all the way, unable to loosen her grip, mercifully fainting after the struggle. Pinkette finally let him go. She took a moment to catch her breath, then proceeded to strip him completely, except for his boots, mask and gloves - emulating the treatment normally reserved for them as part of the capture. She then dragged him to the couch, watching over his limp form, reminded of the pleasure between her legs less than two minutes ago. She sighed. Hurriedly, she grabbed a pen and paper, wrote something down and placed it in the villain's hand. She smiled, then headed for the exit, hoping to run into her clothes along the way. It would not take long for GreenFlame to wake up and realize he was not bound - merely stripped and humiliated, with a single piece of paper in his hand, a note, from Pinkette. "Next time, ask for my autograph." He smiled. There would definitely be a next time, he thought to himself, as he recovered the pieces of his suit to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. THE END