Crimson Flare writhed in exquisite anguish, her body alternately twisting,\nsquirming, gyrating, and bouncing to the accompaniment of the most sensual moans\nshe could have produced. Officers Westbrook and Blakeman stood in shocked\nsilence upon entering the vault, staring down at the figure as she coiled and\nuncoiled before their eyes. The heroine’s finely honed muscles stretched and\ncontracted under a smooth, dry skin as she debased her own honour in a decadent\nsearch for sybaritic pleasure.
\nThe heroine was totally unaware of their presence, as she focused all her\nattention inwardly, reveling in the ecstasy that thrilled her, beginning in a\ndeep pit in her groin and extending outward in all directions. She was only\nconcerned with the sensations that poured from that dissolute well; that those\nsensations should thrill her sexual areas, thrill her entire nervous system; and\ncarry her into a higher and higher ecstasy. It thrilled across the muscles and\nnerves of her thighs, taking the strength from her powerful body. Those round,\nsmooth, well-developed extremities were frequently commented upon by her\nadmirers as the most enticing and engaging feature of the avenger. But now they\nrubbed and pressed together and the feelings that enveloped them only had as a\ngoal the sustenance of the delight that raced through every sinew and nerve in\nher body.
\nA flash bulb exploded the fixation on the twisting Champion of Women as a\nphotographer from the Daily Plaudit snapped a shot of the bared, helpless\nheroine on the floor. Officer Blakeman turned on the small photographer in a\nfury, grabbing the camera from his hands and smashing it against the metal wall.\nThe policewoman was another of those who, like Lynn Simms, had undertaken a new\nrole in the community because of the crimson-clad heroine. She grabbed the back\nof his shirt and, faster than he could say ‘First Amendment!’, pitched him back\nthrough the doorway through which they had just passed. Blakeman positioned\nherself squarely in the doorframe, blocking the view of the reporters who had\naccompanied the officers.
\n‘This is a crime scene!’ she announced. ‘You gentlemen will have to leave and\nwait for a briefing that will follow!’ Her partner, Officer Westbrook, looked at\nher in momentary shock, then, understanding, began to herd the grumbling\nreporters from the doorway and down the hall.
\nLeft alone in the vault, Maria Blakeman stooped beside the quivering heroine and\nbegan to remove the ropes that bound her. As the policewoman’s hand gripped the\nmasked heroine’s bare upper arm near her shoulder, Crimson Flare gasped, her\nbreath catching noisily, and then she moaned loudly. Maria recognised the\nexhausted sounds of an orgasm tearing away at the poor woman in front of her.\nThe heroine twisted pathetically on the floor, desperately trying to bury her\nface in the body of the officer trying to help her, and, at the same time, she\nused the twisting of her hips to drive the probe inside her against the walls of\nher vagina. Maria heard the sobs and felt the powerful muscles convulse and\nspasm. Crimson Flare was cumming again. Involuntarily, Maria glanced down at the\nviolently twisting hips, where the juices had stained the previously colourless\ntights; but for the sequins that covered her costume, she had no doubt that the\ndark tide would include the familiar uniform.
\nMaria Blakeman pulled the sexually devastated heroine’s head into her, holding\nher in her arms. Gently, with her free hand, she slowly undid the knots, one by\none, never releasing the hapless heroine from the security of her embrace.
\nCrimson Flare held the dildo between her fingers, watching her honey roll down\nthe object toward her satin-gloved fingertips. Although she now had recovered\nher strength, she was still shaken as a result of the effects of her recent bout\nwith this probe. The Champion sighed heavily, dropping her hand to her side; her\nhead slumped to her chest. The strong arms of the policewoman steadied her\nswaying body. Despite the cold of the refrigerated vault, Maria noticed how\nCrimson Flare’s arms were now clammy with sweat. The Maid of Mitropoulos had\nsaid not a word once the last of the ropes has been taken from her. Immediately\nafter that had been accomplished, the crimson uniform had quickly been pushed\ndown off her hips; the stained tights had followed and Officer Blakeman was\nshocked when the six-inch-long dildo was pulled from inside her.
\nStill on her knees, Crimson Flare dropped the object in disgust and modestly\ndressed herself. Crimson tried very hard to avoid showing any sign of the\naftereffects of her trial. She moved deliberately, planting her boot firmly\nbefore pushing herself to her feet. As she stood, she brought all of her muscles\ninto play to avoid staggering or swaying.
\n‘Are you all right?’ the policewoman asked. She hadn’t been completely convinced\nby the performance.
\nHonesty won out over image. ‘I think so,’ Crimson Flare said softly. ‘At least,\nI’ve got full control over my… faculties.’ Honesty only went so far. She\ncouldn’t bring herself to say ‘body’, which is what she meant.
\n‘You shouldn’t have to face the media,’ Maria said. ‘But I need your statement\nfor my report. You can go out the back door, but I want to know where I can get\nin touch with you.’
\n‘I can come to the precinct station when you’ll be there.’
\nAfter a pause, Maria said, ‘No. There are some cops there who don’t appreciate\neverything you do. When word of how we found you gets around, and it will get\naround, I’m sure they’ll be waiting to slap your face with it. They think a\nwoman….’
\nCrimson Flare’s glance stopped the policewoman. She had had to deal with this\nconsistently. The Savoyards, the Normans, JoJo, Ape—almost all the enemies she\nhad faced—had all shown that they hated her less for her crimefighting efforts\n(and the successes she had enjoyed) and more because she was a woman. Now she\nlearned that this hatred was present among the police, too. The beautiful\nChampion of Mitropoulos felt her heart fall to the pit of her stomach. She\nmurmured finally, ‘Oh, all right. I know.’
\n‘Can you meet me in an hour at the Good Shepherd Hospital?’
\nThat was where Karen worked. She simply answered ‘Yes,’ and, with that, the\nMaiden of Mitropoulos took a step from the vault and made her way to the rear\nexit. Her phenomenal strength had been restored and she again moved with her\nusual ease and grace. Maria stared after her with admiration and fear:\nAdmiration for her strength and her ability to inspire; fear for her safety.
\nCrimson Flare was back in Karen’s apartment in a matter of moments. They were\nlong moments for the Champion as she sped through the streets of Mitropoulos\njust as the rising sun was brightening the eastern sky. She avoided contact with\nany of the city’s nocturnal denizens. As she pushed open the door, Lynn was\nwaiting.
\nThe smile on Lynn’s face was wiped away the instant Karen removed her mask. The\nbluish bruise on the side of her head was still in evidence; the redness around\nher eyes had not vanished with the removal of the dildo. When Karen saw her\nblonde roommate, she burst anew into tears and Lynn rushed to embrace her\nfriend.
\n‘Oh, Lynn, it was terrible. I have never been so frightened! I couldn’t control\nanything! I had no strength! It was like someone else was controlling\neverything!’
\nLynn led the sobbing heroine across the room to the sofa and laid her down. The\nblonde nestled herself underneath her head, still covered in the vinyl cowl. As\nthe heroine recounted the evening’s events, her friend slowly removed the black\nvinyl and began to smooth the short, matted hair beneath it.
\nWhen Karen reached the point of recounting Ape’s appearance at the fur salon,\nLynn felt fear grip her insides. Her caresses extended down the face of her\nfriend as she gently brushed her jaw line from the point of her chin all the way\nback up to her ear. When a tear rolled from her reddened eye, the athletic\nblonde carefully wiped it away. She gently brushed the bruise on the side of her\nface. Lynn noticed the remains of a bruise, a duplicate of the one on the side\nof Karen’s unmasked face, on the heroine’s bare arm. She knew from Karen’s\ndescription that similar marks would be found on her back and chest. From\nKaren’s tone and the pitch of her voice, Lynn could tell that Mitropoulos’\nChampion was still feeling the pain and humiliation of her defeat.
\nAlthough she retrieved the memory only in bits and pieces, as she had drifted in\nand out of consciousness during her ordeal, the painful memory of Ape pulling\noff her costume, revealing her chest, came through in a vast wash of torment.\nKaren explained that Ape had tied her wrists, and, as soon as that had begun,\nweakness! —and not simply a loss of strength—had flowed across her and the\nunconsciousness in fact became less frequent, as if the sensation had excited\nher. She described how he roughly pulled her to her feet, restraining her by\nholding her arms; she only watched as Nancy pulled her uniform away from her sex\nand inserted the dildo she had taken from the black bag that Karen remembered\nfrom the MacLeod-Slaughter mansion. Karen told her friend how good it felt.\nThen, when she had been hogtied, the powerlessness worked on her psyche and\nfulfilled her fantasies of vulnerability.
\nIt was long minutes before the devastated heroine could speak again. ‘I’m\nsupposed to go to the hospital to meet the policewoman who’s making out the\nreport.’
\n‘When?’
\nKaren turned toward the clock. She sighed when she saw the time. ‘In about ten\nminutes.’ She felt the tears welling up in her again. ‘I don’t know whether I\ncan wear my costume outside again.’
\n‘That’s what Nancy is counting on. She wants to destroy you. Killing you is\nsecondary.’
\n‘That sounds like a college psychology major.’
\n‘You said that they could have killed you. If they wanted to kill you, they\nwould have. But Nancy stopped Ape. She has other plans. And that is a college\npsychology major talking: Twelve hours of abnormal and criminal psychology. I\nuse it every day in my work.’
\nKaren sat up. She reached into her ear and removed the crushed\nsensor-transmitter. As she stared at the failed earpiece, she rolled it around\non the palm of her satin-gloved hand. ‘This worked, at least until Ape smashed\nit. I need to find something that can’t be broken. I…’ she paused and took a\ndeep breath, ‘can’t be broken again.’ She tipped her hand and dropped the\nminiature device to the floor. ‘I can’t be broken again.’
\nWhen Karen stood up, Lynn’s eyes followed her. As the young blonde stared up at\nher friend, she realised how stunning a figure Crimson Flare was! The skin-tight\nsequined costume showed every nook and crevice in her body; her breasts, though\nsmall, became perfectly rounded mounds beneath that body-hugging spandex,\nreflecting the light from around the room; the colourless tights glinting as\nthey showed off the perfection of her legs; and the highly-polished leather of\nher black boots flashing as she walked. And packed into that body was the\nstrength of a dozen men. No wonder Crimson Flare was the talk of Mitropoulos!
\n‘I have to go.’
\nOfficer Blakeman sat in a patrol car in the parking lot at the hospital. Crimson\nFlare found her with no difficulty and knocked on the glass on the passenger\nside of the vehicle. The policewoman gestured for the masked heroine to take a\nseat with her. When the door had been closed, the two women sat quietly for a\nmoment.
\n‘How are you? You seemed so badly battered when we found you, I was surprised\nyou were able to walk from the room under your own power.’
\n‘My body heals wounds quickly. I guess I can recover from any kind of\nmistreatment equally quickly,’ Crimson Flare replied evenly. ‘What do you need\nfor your report?’ She didn’t think she would feel uncomfortable, but she was\ndisturbed by the circumstances of this meeting.
\nMaria wasn’t ready to make the visit official yet. She was worried about the\nsmall figure sitting next to her. She cast a furtive glance at the discoloured\ntights that stretched downward from her crotch, the result of the orgasms\ndragged from her during her ordeal. ‘I shouldn’t ask what happened. But I have\nto know. I’m worried about your well-being. Can’t you tell me anything about\nwhat was going on?’
\n‘There are a couple of criminals who are trying to… destroy me.’ As soon as she\nsaid it, the Maid of Mitropoulos knew how it sounded. ‘They want to kill me,\nlike any criminal in Mitropoulos,’ she hastened to add, ‘but this woman—Nancy, I\ndon’t know her last name—wants to humiliate me, to destroy my reputation. She’s\ntreating it as if she had a personal vendetta against me. And she’s using Ape\nGreystook as her tool to do it.’
\n‘Ape Greystook? He’s back?’
\n‘After some time in a Colombian prison. He’s combined the remnants of the\nSavoyards and the Normans into a new gang. He seems to be trying to establish\nhimself as a drug lord. A few nights ago, at the MacLeod-Slaughter Mansion, I\nintercepted his first shipment. Now he’s in debt.’
\n‘Was that the night the city went crazy with crimes? I remember cops all over\ntown were scared out of their minds.’
\n‘That was the night. It was all to cover the delivery of the drugs.’
\n‘There were a lot of cops who wondered where you were. So you were at the\nmansion stopping the delivery. But how does this relate to where we found you\nlast night?’
\nCrimson Flare paused. She didn’t want to confide in a stranger what had happened\nat the mansion. She finally said, ‘When I went to the mansion, I lost my baton.\nLast night, I was trying to get it back.’
\nMaria reached down past the tense Champion to the floor of the vehicle. ‘Here it\nis.’ She handed the heroine the two-and-a-half-foot long rod. Crimson gratefully\ntook the weapon from her.
\n‘Did they use it against you last night?’ Maria tried to imagine the power of\nthe baton turned against a person, even a superheroine.
\n‘They tried to. But when Ape surprised me and beat me, that was how I got in\nthat condition.’ She was relieved that she wasn’t required to reveal any more.\nIt was true that Ape had surprised her, but she had wound up in the condition\nthe police had discovered her through a more wrenching set of circumstances. She\ncouldn’t tell the policeman about her weakness resulting from bondage, even\nthough word of that was evidently already getting around Mitropoulos’\nunderworld. She had known that for some time. This new weakness, the weakness\nshe so enjoyed, was different. It was different because it came upon her when\nher strength was snatched from her by bondage. When she had her strength, the\necstasy was in check, though she could still feel it tickling her, reaching out\nfrom the darkness in her own psyche to titillate her, to offer the promise of\nbliss. All she had to do was allow herself to be bound!
\nSatisfied, Officer Blakeman took Crimson Flare’s statement for her report on the\nbreak-in at Venable’s. When they were through, Crimson Flare heaved a deep sigh.\n‘How…?’ she began.
\nAfter a moment, Maria turned toward her heroine inquiringly. The heroine’s green\neyes were frightened behind her mask. ‘How many police…’ she said slowly, ‘how\nmany… want to…’ She stopped, not knowing how to finish the question. She was\nremembering why Maria had asked her to meet her here, rather than at the\nstation.
\n‘How many police want to see you defeated, maybe even dead?’
\nCrimson Flare nodded.
\n‘Not many. Not even a lot. But they’re vocal. Every time you wrap up a criminal,\nthey talk about how you’re showboating, that you don’t understand what real\npolice have to do. The other night, when you were at the mansion and we didn’t\nknow where you were, one guy said that you were scared of real police work and\nthat was why you weren’t helping.’ Maria was feeling anger herself now. ‘They\ntalk about how, just once, you need to have your ass kicked; how they’d like to\nsee you get—’ she stopped short.
\n‘Say it,’ the heroine said.
\n‘No.’
\n‘—fucked,’ the avenger said quietly.
\nWithout another word, Crimson Flare exited the car and quickly disappeared.
\nLynn was waiting when Karen returned. She could tell that the heroine had not\nbeen cheered by her meeting with the policewoman.
\nAs soon as she was inside the apartment, Karen was throwing off her uniform. Her\nbruised body stood naked in the living room, as she pulled off her black leather\nboots and then the stained, dishonoured tights. The deep bluish-black of the\nbruises on her body was already fading at the edges, while the depth of the\ndiscolouration on the side of her head was already visibly lessened.
\nThe blonde girl knew that she would have to compose her friend following\nwhatever had occurred in the meeting. But she was unprepared for the combination\nof despair and fury that spilled out as the frustrated heroine told her about\nthe police. The one bright spot Crimson Flare had always held, the single belief\nthat had always reconciled her to the dangers and degradations that were part of\nwhat she did, was the trust that the police appreciated her effort and\ncontribution, that there was unanimity there about the worthiness of her\nefforts.
\n‘And now THIS… has happened to me and there are police who are overjoyed by the\ndefeat and humiliation that Crimson Flare is suffering. Why have I got myself\ninto this? Everything is falling apart! Stacy and I wanted to do Good. We wanted\nto make the city a better place. Now Stacy is dead. And I’ve become… become….’
\nHer friend wanted to say something to help, but there seemed nothing left to\nsay. Lynn had taken on Stacy’s role of reassuring Karen about the value of\nCrimson Flare’s work, but a large part of that argument had centered on the\nsupport of the police. Now that case had been undermined by some Neanderthals\namong them. And the most valuable ally the police had may be lost.
\n‘…and I’ve become….’ Karen was speaking more softly now, but there was no\nlessening of her emotion. ‘I’ve become a… sex maniac. I live for the sensations\nof sex. Whenever I am not experiencing that kind of thrill, I want only to reach\nthose heights again. Only my great strength keeps me in check. But when I’m\nbound, that strength is gone, and the desire takes over. There are even times I\nwant to be bound, just so I can find that pleasure again.
\n‘What will I do?’ Her shoulders had slumped, and her small form seemed smaller\nthan ever. ‘I can’t… I can’t… I can’t be Crimson Flare… any more.’
\n‘Karen, even if…’ Lynn was struggling to make sense to her friend. ‘Even if you…\naren’t Crimson Flare ever again, you have to get better. You can’t go through\nthe rest of your life like that. That road leads nowhere.’
\nKaren looked at her friend. ‘I’ve thought of that.’ The blank, depressed stare\nthat covered her usually shining green eyes told Lynn all she needed to know.
\n‘You got your baton back,’ Lynn changed the subject.
\n‘Yes, the officer returned it. At least, it won’t be used to break open any more\nsecurity doors.’
\nLynn put her arm around the shoulders of her friend. ‘Why don’t you get some\nsleep. I’ll call Professor Brayfield and see what he can tell me about the\ninvestigations he’s been carrying on.’ Now she decided to take a chance. ‘Do you\nthink you would be willing to go to see him? He’s one of the best in his field,\nand he had serious doubts about the earpiece anyway. Would you see him as\nCrimson Flare?’
\nDr. Bill Brayfield stared longingly at the heroine who sat in front of him. He\nwatched as her legs entwined and released, reflecting her nervousness and, he\nsuspected, her pent-up sexuality; the sound of her tights rustling against the\nsoft leather of his couch added to the stimuli distracting him as he attempted\nto understand the young girl’s problem.
\n‘So, until you lost your virginity you had complete control over your strength\nand your sexual desires; and your sex drive was not an impediment to your\nmission as you saw it?’ he asked, choosing his words carefully.
\n‘That’s right, Doctor Brayfield. I was strung out on drugs while I was held\ncaptive in the subway. Then to pay for the drugs I wanted, the gang made me\nserve as their prostitute.’ Crimson Flare spoke quietly, ashamed. ‘But,’ she\nadded quickly, ‘once I was freed from my bonds and my strength came into play,\nthe desire for the drugs was quickly defeated.’
\n‘And that desire has not returned.’
\n‘And that desire has not returned,’ she repeated, quietly, but with a measure of\npride.
\n‘Has sex become your drug of choice?’
\nCrimson Flare was taken aback by the question. She had not thought of her\ncondition in those terms. She was so proud of her seemingly easy victory over\nthe drugs introduced during her time of trial that she had not seen the two\nevents—drug dependence and loss of virginity—as related.
\n‘I—I called myself… a… sex maniac… a few days ago. Maybe… I… am.’
\n‘Every drug dependency has a trigger,’ the Professor said, leaning forward in\nhis chair. ‘What triggers the demand in you?’ He already knew the answer.
\nThe heroine’s eyes burned as she fought to maintain control. She squeezed her\neyes shut and felt a tear roll down her right cheek. ‘What can I do?’ she almost\nwhispered.
\n‘Trust me.’
\nCrimson Flare shot a hard look directly at the doctor. She had not trusted\nanyone totally—totally—since Stacey had died. She had not revealed herself fully\neven to Lynn, who had come to replace her late friend in so many ways.
\nBrayfield stood up and extended his arms. ‘You’ll have to put yourself entirely\nin my hands.’
\n‘I don’t know if I can do that, Doctor.’
\n‘You will have to. I think I know a way out of your dilemma.’ He noted the\nquizzical look behind her mask and smiled. ‘It’s more philosophical than\nmedical. But it’s predicated on the fact that it wasn’t the loss of your\nvirginity that triggered your current situation. You have studied martial arts?’
\n‘Yes, I have.’
\n‘Well, then you know how to fight someone with greater strength. The strength of\nthis… dependency… is growing, isn’t it? It is becoming more and more difficult\nto resist,’ he said, thinking of her beguiling, entwining, legs, ‘isn’t it?’
\nShe sighed. ‘Yes.’
\n‘It won’t be long before your strength will not be able to save you from its\neffects. But in jiu-jitsu and other martial arts, aren’t you taught to use your\nopponent’s strength against him?’ He saw the light go on behind her deep green\neyes. ‘Move at your enemy’s strength, rather than trying to avoid it. This\ncondition arose when you were physically addicted to drugs, while you were in a\nphysically weakened condition. As long as that addiction and weakness were\npresent, you didn’t experience the dependency on sex. But, as I said, your\ndependency isn’t about the loss of your virginity, or simply having sex. What\nyou seek, from what you’ve said, is the orgasm. That’s the rush that you\nformerly got from taking drugs. And that rush…’ he smiled, ‘was accomplished as\na result of your physical weakness.’
\nCrimson Flare smiled at the professor’s explanation, but the smile disappeared\nas he continued.
\n‘I will have to bind you,’ he half-smiled inwardly at that prospect, ‘and then\nre-introduce the drug addiction. And once we have that condition re-created,\nthen we can remove both of the cravings. It’s like going back to the point in\ntime where it was born, and killing it in the cradle.’
\nCrimson Flare remembered the dependency on the drugs. She remembered, faintly,\nvaguely, how she had debased herself for money. She remembered the mockery of\nthe Normans, of Chan and Cos; she remembered the pain she felt when she didn’t\nhave enough money to buy drugs. She saw herself moving around the subway\nstation, her hands bound, trying to get money by offering sex. She felt her\nheart pounding in her chest as she realised that she would have to re-live those\ndays. ‘How long?’
\n‘It will take longer to re-create your drug dependency than it will to break you\nof the hold of both of these terrors. The last time, from what you have told me,\nit lasted about a week, more or less. It should be about the same.
\n‘If you want, I can have Lynn here to help you through it.’
\n‘That would be… nice.’ She hated herself for using such a pitiful word for what\nLynn would do.
\nCrimson Flare was naked except for her mask. Lynn was sitting next to her bed at\nthe Doctor’s apartment. Lynn asked that her friend’s identity be kept secret, so\nthe black vinyl protecting her face remained in place even though the remainder\nof her familiar uniform had been removed.
\nThe heroine was bathed in sweat. It poured off her soaking the sheets that lay\nbeneath her. Soft, padded straps running across her shoulders, hips, and just\nabove her knees secured her body to the mattress. At her ankles were leather\nbondage devices that held her extremities securely but gently in place,\nspreading her legs obscenely on top of the bed. Her wrists were bound by soft\nropes and, right now, they lay discretely on top of her dark brown muff. At the\ncrook of her left elbow, the track marks had returned to mar the pristine beauty\nof her flawless skin. A week of drug use, intensely monitored by both Dr.\nBrayfield and her friend, had created an intense craving that had led to both\nthe sweats and the periodic shaking that wracked her body. Lynn had remained\nconstantly with her throughout the ordeal, the professor only entering the\nbedroom to check on the physical condition and to administer the carefully\nmeasured doses.
\nBrayfield had told Lynn that the lights in the room should be kept dim, in order\nthat the Champion’s stimulation be minimised. He took advantage of this\ncondition to observe the agony of the Maid of Mitropoulos through a small hole\nin the wall from his own bedroom, next door. It had been a long time since he\nhad had a woman at his apartment and even longer since one had been in his bed.\nTo have one so desirable, so venerated, and so beautiful was beyond his wildest\ndreams. To see her naked gave him an opportunity to vent his frustrations.
\nWhen Crimson had been returned to the physical dependence on the drugs, Dr.\nBrayfield began the careful process of treatment: a combination of hypnosis,\ninjections, and massage therapy. This was coupled with the periodic untying of\nher wrists, so that her strength returned to overwhelm the desire for a fix. But\nthen a return to bondage allowed for a residue of the power of the addiction to\ncontinually return, but not so strong with each application. It would be\nfortified by a fresh, but gradually decreasing, injection of drugs. This menu of\ntreatment eventually achieved what Dr. Brayfield had hypothesised was possible.\nHe weaned his heroic charge from her multiple dependences.
\n‘You need to get some rest, Lynn. You’ve only had about two hours’ sleep a night\nfor the past eight days. You are absolutely exhausted.’ Professor Bill Brayfield\nspoke soothingly to his former student. She was in no condition to defy the man\nwho was both her mentor and her friend. ‘Crimson Flare is almost out of the\nwoods. She’ll sleep for another few hours, so why shouldn’t you do so, also? If\nshe wakes up sooner, I’ll call you. I know you want to be here when I untie her\nwrists for the last time.’ Wearily, the young blonde nodded. ‘Here. When you get\nhome take just one of these—’ he handed her a tiny white paper envelope\ncontaining a weak sedative—‘and you’ll fall asleep immediately. You’ll sleep for\nseveral hours. When you wake up, come back here and we can wake her together.\nI’m sure she’ll need to see you when she comes out of her delirium.’ Lynn didn’t\nresist as the doctor almost pushed her out the door.
\nNo sooner had the door slammed, Brayfield was moving quickly to the guest\nbedroom that was the quarters of Mitropoulos’ beautiful Champion. He stepped\nthrough the door and stared at her smooth, unmoving body, still lying on her\nback on his bed—on his bed. He already had his shirt unbuttoned and was tearing\nit from his pudgy torso. ‘You don’t know how I have dreamed of this, dearest\nCrimson. You’ll never know.’
\nIn the dim light, her petite form shone. The straps that had previously\nrestrained her shoulders, hips and knees had been removed. All that remained of\nher familiar costume was the black vinyl mask that covered the upper half of her\nface; even the shiny cowl had been removed, revealing her short, twisted shocks\nof dark brown hair. Behind the mask her eyes were closed. Her mouth was slightly\nopened, her breathing smooth but deep. The torments of the previous days had\ntaken their toll. Her petite form looked even smaller than usual. She lay flat\non her back, her head supported by the Professor’s small pillows. Her shoulders,\nlying still below her head were aligned in a smooth arch. Her small breasts\njutted upward from her chest; in the near-darkness of the bedroom, the colour of\nher nipples and aureole were barely distinguishable from her tanned torso. The\nmovement of her breathing expanded her chest noticeably, and he watched her\nflesh tighten just below her rib cage as her chest rose and fell. Brayfield’s\npenis filled and elevated when he got to her hips, a sheer miracle of\nconstruction: round, smooth, and muscular. At their base, in the centre, the\ntuft of dark brown hair hid the object of his anticipation. Sitting on top of\nthis miracle of nature were her bound hands, bared now, crimson satin gloves\ntossed aside with her costume. Just above the angle created by the bound wrists\nher tiny navel peered up at him. Just below the unmoving fingers (he noticed how\nshort the nails were; he was sure that she bit them, a sign of her insecurity),\nanother angle was formed by her spread thighs, the lines of her legs determined\nby the bondage wrappings at her ankles that secured her to the bed.
\nWith her wrists bound, she was powerless. Unconscious, she was unaware of his\npresence. Naked, and with her legs spread, she was accessible, asking for it.\nAnd masked, she was anonymous. The psychologist understood the full implications\nof his lust. He was not about to disappoint her.
\n‘No, you’ll never know.’ He fumbled with his belt. ‘All my life, I’ve wanted to\nhave the beautiful girl. They liked to talk to me, they laughed at my jokes.\nThey liked to be with me. But they never went out with me. They never would let\nme touch them.’ He stopped his tearing and fumbling and stood over the unmoving\nheroine. He reached down and passed his fingertips over her belly, gently\nbrushing across her forearms and then the inside of her left thigh. ‘But you’re\ndifferent, aren’t you?
\n‘You understand what it’s like to be the outcast.’ He pressed his hand upward on\nher sex, his middle finger seeking entry to her. She was dry inside, and his\nfinger only penetrated as far as the first knuckle before the rough interior\nbarred further movement. ‘You will be grateful to me. I’ve beaten back the very\nsexuality of your body, I’ve returned control of your body to you.’ He smiled.\n‘What reward will you offer me? Your thanks?
\n‘Actually, my beautiful heroine, we’d reached this point two days ago,’ he\nconfided. ‘The last forty-eight hours have been just for show.
\n‘My beautiful heroine,’ he chuckled. ‘I’ll bet you weren’t beautiful until you\nbecame a heroine. You understand the mask and the costume very well, don’t you,\nCrimson Flare? The mystery, the aura of virginity unsullied, the appeal of a\npowerful woman: you know how to use these.’ He raised her from the bed, so that\nthe unconscious crimefighter now sat awkwardly with her legs spread, her ankles\nsecured in the bondage devices near the corners of the mattress. Her head\nslumped toward her chest and her bound hands dropped to the mattress, coming to\nrest directly in front of her most private reserve.
\n‘My beautiful heroine.’ Brayfield sensed the opportunity to find the area that\nhad frequently been denied to him by other women and reached his middle finger\ntoward her vagina, pushing her bound hands out of the way. He began stroking her\nhidden clitoris, trying to encourage it to bud under what he thought were gentle\nministrations. He eased himself next to her, so that he whispered into her\nuncovered ear. ‘You understand me; you know the sense of being different. You\nunderstand how difficult it is to conform when you know that you’re different\nfrom everyone else. How did you hide your secret from prying eyes and wagging\ntongues, hmmmh?’ The attack on the unyielding blossom was harsher now,\ndiscomfort even showing through her unconscious visage. A small groan escaped\nher lips.
\nBrayfield immediately pulled back. ‘Oh, no, Beautiful. I won’t hurt you. You\nknow I won’t hurt you.’ He removed his finger from inside her. ‘But you want me\nto do this. I know. You want to offer your thanks in the only way a real woman\ncan. He reached down to her nearer ankle and easily pulled the bondage wrap\nfree. Then, he pushed on her thigh, so that the leg extended directly to the\nfront of Mitropoulos’ Champion. He admired the round smoothness of the thigh and\nthe even sculptured functionalism of the knee. He kept his hand on her thigh for\na long time as he absorbed the silky feel of the skin. He slid his hand\nunderneath the leg and then moved it toward his own body, so that his fingers\nonce again found the entry to her. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, for a second\ntime the Psychology Professor manipulated the roseate organ he found there.\nPlucking the clit like the string of a harp, he felt her unconscious body\nshudder in his embrace.
\n‘That’s the way, Beautiful. Give yourself to me.’ Her head lolled back and her\ntanned, perfect throat opened itself before him. Gently, he placed his lips\nalong the pulsing carotid artery, and he kissed her, softly. ‘Oh, my darling,’\nhe whispered.
\nHis fingers were working more diligently now, opening her. He could feel her\nhoney begin its lubrication to smooth and facilitate the movement. His fingers\nwere not so dexterous as they had once been, years ago, but as his ring finger\npenetrated the heroine, he heard a soft sigh mixed with a moan. ‘Beautiful,’ he\nwhispered. Pressing his two fingers in and out of Mitropoulos’ heroic Maiden,\nthe pungent smell of her sex swelled around his nostrils. As the two digits\ncircled inside her sex, he felt the smooth slipperiness invite him to go deeper.\n‘Yes,’ he said into her ear, so softly it was almost like a breath moving across\na pond. ‘Yes, it’s what we both want.’ He removed his hand and laid her back\ndown on the bed. By this time his member had swollen to full size, painfully\noverreaching its own genetic limits. His balls ached as he brought Crimson\nFlare’s inner perfume to his nostrils. He rubbed the still-damp fingers on his\nupper lip and flicked his tongue to the fingers, tasting the acrid fluid.\n‘Everything about you is heavenly, my dear superheroine,’ he confided.
\nHer body lay twisted on the bed, her right ankle still secured by the bondage\nwrapping to the lower corner of the bed, and her torso curved in the shape of a\n‘C’ toward the upper part of the Queen-sized mattress. Her shapely left leg went\noff at a tangent from her hips forming, now, a 45° angle with the bound leg. The\nshadow he saw between her legs was enticing.
\n‘You won’t mind, dear.’ Brayfield was whispering anxiously now. ‘Together, we’ve\nbeaten your demons. You won’t have the desire for helplessness that almost\ndestroyed you. And that was because of your faith in me. You owe me much more\nthan your thanks. I should get the reward that every knight in shining armour\ndeserves.’ He moved to a seated position at the entrance to her sex. Placing his\nhands on top of the heroine’s hips, he began to slowly rock to and fro as he\nspoke more and more agitatedly to her.
\nLeaning forward, he placed the side of his face against her chest, gently\nrubbing back and forth against her, listening to her heart, kissing and licking\nher breast. The psychologist next rose and placed himself at her entrance, at\nthe same time reaching down to remove the final fur-padded leather wrap from her\nankle. That accomplished, he looked at her masked face, and in it he saw all the\nloves of his life. ‘Barbara,’ he murmured, and he placed his hands on her upper\narms. He kissed her left breast, lingering to gently bite the nipple.
\nThen she became ‘Penny’ and he kissed her on the lips. For ‘Susan’ he felt tears\nroll down his cheeks and he rose up on his knees to stare down on the unmoving\nsymbol of the womanhood that been denied him for so long. ‘Oh, dearest Susan.’\nIn the dim light the petite form of the masked Maiden could become the long lost\nlove he so much wanted to be there. He lifted her up again and settled her onto\nthe tip of his engorged prick. As she slid gently over him, he felt his heart\nhammering in his chest. The beating was so heavy he thought it was like it would\nsmash through the ribcage.
\n‘I love you.’ Both of the figures were upright, she straddling his thighs with\nher own; he both knelt and sat on the bed, his arms wrapped around her naked\ntorso, pressing now her breasts against his own. Every nerve in his body was\nsensitive to her presence, and he could feel the outlines of her breasts against\nhis chest. Her arms passed over his shoulders, and her still-bound wrists kept\ntheir embrace around him. Her head slid from his shoulder to lie now against his\nchest, as he had wished for a woman to do so often. Brayfield pushed himself\ndeep into the unresisting heroine. As he embraced her more and more tightly, her\nsex clamped tightly over his organ both stimulating it and increasing his\nfrenzy. He pulled her desirable body tightly against him and he rose up from his\nsemi-sitting position onto his knees. ‘Oh, god,’ he gasped.
\nHis body moved slowly, to some extent uncertainly. He rose and fell on his\nhaunches, lifting the unconscious woman with him. Her head rested comfortably on\nhim, her short dark hair in his face. He loved the sweaty smell. Up and down,\nthe two rode his ecstasy together. His hands felt her spine and the muscles of\nher back, finely tuned and powerful. The power of this woman only served to\nexcite him even more.
\nTears poured from his eyes and he pushed her body away, until her wrists locked\nagainst the back of his neck. Gently, as gently as he had ever done anything, he\nslowly brought her body back to the mattress, following her with his own. Now he\nlay on top of her, and he began the familiar rhythmic motion of intercourse.\n‘Oh, dear god,’ he thought. ‘Nothing I have ever done is comparable to this!’
\nHe stared down at the masked face of Mitropoulos’ vigilante guardian. He was\nsure she smiled as he pressed his manhood deeper into her and he wrapped his\nfeet and ankles around hers. He moved his hands down from her back so that he\ncupped her cheeks, his middle fingers massaging the crack between them. He\npushed himself up and shrugged her arms off his shoulders. Now he was looking\ndown on her naked body from the point of view of her conqueror, her lack of\nresistance convinced him that he was in charge. ‘That’s wonderful, Angel,’ he\nsaid softly. ‘Just give yourself to me.’ Next his hands moved to her smooth,\npowerful shoulders and her used them to both stimulate and support himself. His\nrhythm was faster now.
\nEach time he plunged into her, he groaned loudly. He had stopped talking to her\nas the act became less about his frustrated love and become more about his\nsexual desire. He had mastered Crimson Flare! She had become his woman! He was\nher first and greatest partner, her saviour. The power of his intellect had\nhelped her to restore her strength, to resume her heroine role.
\nHis groans were faster now, one almost indistinguishable from the next. Each\ntime he rammed himself into her, he saw her whole upper body shudder from the\ncollision. Stimulated inside her, his prick finally exploded in a series of\nconvulsive blasts, releasing a lifetime’s pent-up desires and frustrations.\n‘Aaagghhh! Aagghhh!! No!’ He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to remain joined\nto the greatest woman of her age, and he wanted her to know that he had saved\nher. Sweat mixed with tears as his head lay on top of her chest. He blubbered\nhis curses at man’s inability to extend interminably the bliss of the moment.
\nBrayfield was spent, exhausted. He could still feel the grip of her sex on his\nnow-shriveled prick; he didn’t want to withdraw from her. Frozen in position, he\nfelt himself start to slide out of her slippery canal. Desperate to hold the joy\na moment longer, he shifted to press again into the Champion of Mitropoulos.\nInstead, the small movement completed his exit. The sense of loss enveloped him;\nthe knowledge that his triumph ended slowly crept over him.
\nHe lifted her and pressed her against his body, the sense of loss wringing him\nemotionally. He pressed his face against her chest, kissing her again and again,\neventually taking her breast fully into his mouth. He sucked her noisily,\nunashamedly, knowing that this would be his last opportunity to create a sensual\nmemory of the experience. As he did so, he remembered the feel of her skin, the\ntingling of his prick, the sensations that had excited every nerve in his body.\nHe recalled the excitation of the explosion inside her and he sniffed her body,\ntrying to memorise every detail of her odor. The recognition of all of these\nelements stimulated him anew, and his penis rose again, as from the dead,\npressing itself between their two forms. Overwhelmed by the reminiscences and\nsensual memory, unable to restrain himself, he exploded again, covering both\nhimself and the object of his adoration with the white, sticky streams of his\naffection.
\n‘Yes, Lynn, it’s over. Why don’t you wake her up?’ Professor Brayfield\nstraightened his tie as he spoke quietly to his former student.
\nLynn looked at her friend lying on the bed. Her bound wrists rested on her dark\nbrown muff, hiding part of it. Her legs were spread, secured in the bondage\ndevices at the lower corners of the mattress. She seemed to rest comfortably.
\n‘I’ll leave you two alone together,’ he said as he began to leave. ‘Wake her\nfirst, then undo the bonds.’ He smiled. ‘Her uniform is on the chair.’ He pulled\nthe door shut behind him, then moved quickly to his bedroom next door. He would\nwatch their reunion in his own way.
\nEnd of Chapter Seven
","frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 7","tags":["Crimson Flare","Torture","n/c","humiliation","Domination","Bondage","f/f","Forced Orgasm","bound","vulnerability","rape"],"date":"5/8/2023","part":"7"},"excerpt":"Crimson Flare writhed in exquisite anguish, her body alternately twisting,\nsquirming, gyrating, and bouncing to the accompaniment of the…","timeToRead":28,"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part7/"},"author":{"authorName":"Marat","authorEmail":"marat1793@earthlink.net","authorSite":null},"series":{"seriesName":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power","parts":[{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part1/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"1"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part2/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"2"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part3/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"3"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part4/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"4"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part5/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"5"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part6/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"6"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part7/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"7"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part8/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"8"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part9/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"9"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part10/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"10"}},{"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part11/"},"frontmatter":{"part":"11"}}]},"storyStats":{"visits":406},"summary":"Crimson Flare is relentlessly dominated by Ape Greystook through various forms of physical and psychological torture, including bondage, forced orgasms, and drug-induced vulnerability. Despite her initial strength and resolve, she gradually falls deeper into humiliation and sexual dependency, struggling to maintain her superhero identity as Brayfield and others exploit her weaknesses, leaving her physically and emotionally drained.","similarStories":[{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 6"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part6/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 9"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part9/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 8"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part8/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 5"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part5/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 3"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part3/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 4"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part4/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 11"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part11/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 1"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part1/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 2"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part2/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 10"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part10/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Blackmail - Chapter Seven"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareblackmail/part7/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Blackmail - Chapter Ten"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareblackmail/part10/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Blackmail - Chapter Two"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareblackmail/part2/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare - The Threat of Pitchblende - Part 2"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflarethethreatofpitchblende/part2/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Blackmail - Chapter One"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareblackmail/part1/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare - The Threat of Pitchblende - Part 3"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflarethethreatofpitchblende/part3/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Blackmail - Chapter Four"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareblackmail/part4/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Blackmail - Chapter Eleven"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareblackmail/part11/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare - The Threat of Pitchblende - Part 1"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflarethethreatofpitchblende/part1/"}},{"author":{"authorName":"Marat","url":"/authors/marat/"},"frontmatter":{"text":"Crimson Flare: Blackmail - Chapter Eight"},"fields":{"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareblackmail/part8/"}}]}},"pageContext":{"nextInSeries":{"series":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power","part":"8","favorite":null,"date":"5/8/2023","text":"Crimson Flare: Ape’s Grab for Power - Chapter 8","tags":["Crimson Flare","Torture","n/c","humiliation","Domination","Bondage","f/f","Forced Orgasm","Bdsm","Mind Control","degradation","Pain","bound","captivity","Power Drain","powerlessness","rape","sadism"],"published":null,"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part8/","templatePath":"./src/templates/stories-post.js"},"slug":"/stories/marat_crimsonflareapesgrabforpower/part7/","templatePath":"./src/templates/stories-post.js"}},"staticQueryHashes":["4139622702","641652024","942210989"],"slicesMap":{}}