Glory Girl: Web of the Dream Weaver

Author: Alias the Rat
Time to Read:40min
Views:0 (All Time)
Added Date:2/15/2023
Tags: Original Heroine
Series:Glory Girl

Part One

Rebecca Hooper and Arnold Belham were talking over the change in their relationship. Only a week before, Becky and her parents, as well as Arnie's dad, had been the prisoners of the master super-villain Professor Cargill. Patrick Hooper and Thomas Belham had been on the verge of being brutally murdered. Becky and her mother, Donna, were threatened with a future of endless degradation as sexual slaves to the madman. When things seemed the worst, Arnie had arrived to save them. The results of that adventure were totally changing the lives of the two young people. They lay intimately embraced, naked in Arnie's bed. Arnie murmured, "So, how are your folks taking all this?" Becky got a little thoughtful. "Well, Mom was a little disturbed by how close we came to... something really nasty. Dad is shaken up discovering how badly he was fooled when he arrested your Dad. They both seem to appreciate more what they have right now. They're much more romantic around the house. Guess they are just reacting to almost losing each other. I have to be careful where I walk. A few days ago I walked into the living room and they were making out... not actual sex, thank god, but pretty passionate, on the couch. And Dad is really wishing he knew more about you." Arnie's hand slid over to cup one of Rebecca's breasts as he answered. "I know about that. He got together with me for lunch..." Becky's eyes shot open when she heard this. "... and he said he wanted a chance to talk with me without you hovering over us." Becky opened her mouth to speak, but Arnie raised his other hand and rested a finger on her lips. "No, I wanted to do it, Beck. He's your Dad. He raised you. You will always be his little girl. He will always feel protective about you. He wants to know if the guy who takes his place in your heart, even partly, is good enough to deserve you. You may not like it, but that's how fathers and boyfriends relate. I have to be good enough in his eyes to deserve you." Becky groaned and said, "And I don't have any say in it?" Arnie thought a minute. "Yeah, you do. But your dad has to balance what you tell him about me with what he sees for himself."

Arnie slid his hand down from the breast, along her belly and to her crotch. A couple of fingers went into her cunt and quickly found a really sensitive spot he knew so well. The fingers massaged and stroked that spot which drew some shudders and a low moan from the blonde heroine. She loved when he did that, and her body began to get very aroused, not for the first time that evening. She murmered, "Oohhhh -- are you ready to go again?" Arnie chuckled and shook his head. "Geez, Beck. We've been at it for hours. When you said you were coming over tonight to reward me for rescuing you, I didn't think you were gonna try to waste me. Little Arnie is exhausted." Becky coyly smiled, and slid down in the bed. She took Arnie's dick in her mouth and began to suck and use her tongue to tease at it. Arnie lay on his back and groaned with pleasure. Soon Little Arnie heard the anthem play and stood at attention. Becky got up and knelt over Arnie's prone figure and eased herself down onto his shaft. She moaned as his penis once more entered her, and he began to pump his hips up, slowly. She matched his movement and felt her vagina mold to Arnie's prick. The growing sensations in her were matched by the pressure felt by Arnie in his loins. He could not hold back long after an extended period of sex, and he came in her. She felt him spurt his fluid into her and reacted with a climax followed quickly by a deep, wonderful orgasm. His cock relaxed, and she rolled off his limp member. They both lay on the bed, exhausted.

Becky finally asked. "Well, what did he talk to you about?" Arnie for a second forgot what they were discussing, then it came back to him. "Oh, he asked about my job." Becky snorted. "Really? He's asked me about that a dozen times. I keep telling him you make good money designing computer software." Arnie replied. "Well, I told him I have a salary of $75,000 a year at Pontaire Computer Integration, I'm one-third owner in the business, and Microsoft and Apple keep trying to hire me to do analysis and de-bugging for them." Becky let out a yelp. "Wow! I didn't know you were doing that well! You must be loaded." Arnie shook his head. "Not totally. I never went into details because I didn't want you to just be seducing me for my money. The past couple of years I've been spending a lot on Dad's lawyers and the investigators who worked on his case. Two expenses that will now be eliminated. Guess now I can save money up for my future plans." Becky poked him in the ribs. "What kind of plans?" Arnie paused a minute before replying. "Well, back before our relationship came out in the open, and we were trying to think of a way to tell your folks that you were involved with the son of your Dad's worst enemy, I was wishing I could get you to move in with me." Becky's head came up and she had a huge smile. Arnie continued. "But you can't."

The smile vanished from her face. "Why not!" she said, and groaned. Arnie sighed, and took one of Rebecca's hands in both of his hands. "Well, ahhh... when you guys were down in the bunker and Cargill was making his big speech after he'd stripped the clothes off you and your Mom... Dad was chained to that table and he... now you have to remember he'd been in prison for eight years and hasn't even seen a women all that time. He... He got... horny." Becky sat up. Even though she had just spent hours having sex with Arnie, she suddenly felt the need to pull up the sheet and cover herself. She stared at Arnie with her mouth hung open. He continued. "His hands were chained to the table, but in his pants he had a hard-on that was killing him. He could barely concentrate on what Cargill was ranting. None of you knew why he was so quiet. And he kept staring at the two lovely naked ladies in front of him. After I came in and got you two loose, while you and I were hugging, your Mom walked past him to get your Dad free. My Dad was wiggling his prick around in his pants to try and get some relief just as your Mom passed by. He came in his pants." Becky moved a few inches away from him, screwed up her face and muttered, "Eeyouuu. And this is why you don't want me to move in?" Arnie raised his hands and shrugged. "Becky, since he's been released, he's living here with me." Rebecca's eyes shot up, she screamed and dove under the sheets. Arnie grabbed the sheet, pulled up the edge and looked at Becky. "He's not here now, Beck. I told him he hadda go out tonight." Becky popped back up and cried out, "You threw your own father out on the street just so you could fuck me? That's disgusting!"

Actually, as she thought about it, it made her felt pretty good. If Arnie was so crazy about her that he would throw out his father to get in bed with her... But he replied, "No, of course not. I just suggested that if you were coming over, I wanted a little privacy and I set him up with a date. I called up my Mom and asked them to get together and resolve things. She gave up on Dad a year after he went to prison and divorced him. She stopped visiting him and had my name legally changed from Belham to Staton, her maiden name. She thought Dad would never get out and didn't want me saddled with a name people would recognize. At the time Dad reluctantly agreed, even though it broke his heart. That was one more reason he hated your Dad so much. After high school I had my name changed back. So my folks will talk it over tonight, and my Dad migt get back together with my Mom, if they can get over what happened between them while he was in the joint." Becky leaned over and hugged her boyfriend. "Oh Arnie, that would be perfect!" But Rebecca was about to learn, perfection would soon be her curse.

Part Two

Becky was standing in her Glory Girl uniform when the board hit her on the side of her head. Bells rang in her ears and lights were flashing in her eyes as she crumpled to the floor. She was in some kind of building, dark -- a warehouse? How did she get here? Why was she here? Who hit her? Questions just tumbled through her mind in the short moment before the two-by-four came down and again hit her, this time right on the top of her head. The world went black...

Painfully, she re-opened her eyes. A hooded spotlight hung above her, leaving her in a brightly lit circle in an otherwise black room. She was tied down on her back on a hard surface, a table top she thought. Her legs were bent at the knees, over the edge of the table and she felt the ropes holding her ankles tight. Her arms were pulled back behind her head and she felt the ropes secure on her wrists. Her body was stretched in an "X" position, and though she pulled as hard as she could, there didn't seem any slack in her restraints. At least she was still dressed. A man, totally dressed in black slacks, sweatshirt, gloves and ski-mask came out of the darkness that surrounded the table. He came to the side of the table and leaned over her. His hand came out and slapped her face. Once, twice, three times. She yelled at him, "Stop that! Why am I here? Who are you?" The man didn't say a word, but grabbed one of her nipples through her top and pinched it. That hurt, and Becky squirmed. Then he slid his hand under her top and put it over her other breast. Again he pinched the nipple. Harder. This time, as she squirmed, he clamped his fingers tighter. Becky screamed. He let go, and backed into the darkness. Becky looked around, but had no idea where the man dressed in black had gone. He might have left, but he might be just past the edge of the light. She lay there in terror, looking around into the darkness, and finally he did appear. He had a small wooden box, about eight inches on a side, that he put on the table next to her. He pulled a large knife from his belt and slashed the front of her top open, revealing her breasts. He took out a small metal clip and grabbed her right breast, attaching the clip to her nipple. It hurt like hell. She was so afraid that he... Yes, he did the same to her other breast. Again, the pain was terrible. Her head was not restrained, so she kept pulling it up to see what he was doing. She saw him pull a length of wire out of the box and attach it to one of the clips. Then he attached another wire to the other clip. Her mind again was filled with terror as she anticipated what she thought he was going to do. His hand spun a small crank on the side of the box and a jolt of electicity went through her body. Her head jolted back so hard it nearly knocked her out when it hit the table. Her body tensed, and muscles pulled tight. The ropes on her wrists and ankles dug painfully into the flesh. She gasped for breath. And then he spun the crank again. Again she felt the horrible spasms of pain run through her. She lost track of how many times he did that to her. Finally she felt him pull the clips off her nipples. He took the box and again backed into the darkness. Becky lay there, gasping for breath and covered in sweat. Who was this guy? Why was he doing this? If he wanted something, why hadn't he said one stinking word since... since... How long had she been here?

She kept looking around towards the utter black area beyond the circle of light. She hoped he was gone, but she feared he wasn't. He came back into the light and leaned over her. With his face close, she heard him finally speak. "Are you in pain?" She reacted with a little disbelief at the stupidity of the question. "What?? You know damn well I am, you sadistic bastard!" He took a damp washcloth and wiped her forehead. "Well, if that's the case, why don't you just wake up?" Then he turned and went back in the darkness. She tried to make any sense of his strange words. She wasn't asleep. This wasn't a dream. Or was it? No, it felt too real. And that pain would have certainly made her wake up at once if she was dreaming. The man reappeared. In his right hand was a long thin needle. Again, he let Becky see what he held. It was part of the torture. He swung his hand up to her face. Was.. was he going to jab her with that? In her mouth... in her eye!? Her breathing grew shallow as she watched him move the needle back and forth over her face. Her eyes kept on it, watching the light glint off it. Then his left hand suddenly grabbed her left breast and he brought the needle over and ran it through Rebecca's tender nipple. She screamed again. Tears ran from her eyes and the fire running through that nipple was excruciating. The man walked around the table and stood at her other side. She looked at him and softly murmured, "No. No. Please, no...." But he brought out another needle. Again he waved it in front of her face. But this time she knew what he planned. She tried to brace herself, to be ready for the pain. It didn't work. She screamed again, as loud as ever. The man stood there watching the tears and screams. Then he leaned down by her face and again spoke. "I wouldn't have to do this if you would just wake up. Don't you want it to stop?" Again he vanished into the black. With every breath, Becky felt the terrible pain shoot though her breasts.

The man came back. And Becky was even more horrified to see he held the little box. Her body twitched wildly as she pulled at the bindings, but her ankles and wrists would not come free. He took the knife out again and this time slashed away her skirt and panties, revealing her most private of places. She saw him pull the wire out of the box. But instead of reaching towards the nipples, he went down to her lower lips. God, NO! He silently clipped the wire to one side of her labia, then pulled the other wire out and attached it to the other side of her clit. The pain from those two little alligator clips was terrible. But when he cranked the handle on the box, she again arched her body and strained helplessly again the jolt of electricity that ran from her crotch through every part of her body. As he had done before, he ran a jolt through her over and over. When he finally stopped, Becky's vision was blurred and every single muscle in her body ached. Her breasts and crotch felt like they were on fire. He looked down at her. "This is getting really bad. You really should wake up!"

Again she was left alone in her misery for a period. She could not tell if it was minutes or hours. There was no way to measure the time. When he returned, he roughly yanked the needles out of her tits. Then he bent down and used his rough tongue to lick the blood away from her tits, and it felt like sandpaper on her torture-sensitized nipples. He bent over her face once again. and said. "You can't keep this up. You need to wake up." Then he held out one of his hands by her head and blew a handful of powder into her face and her eyes closed at the stinging.

Part Three

Rebecca Hooper opened her eyes in her own bed in her own room. She sat up and put her head in her hands. God, what a nightmare. It was so horrible! The things he did to her! Why would she have such a nasty dream, what would cause her to dream about.... about what? It had been a nightmare, but all of it had suddenly faded from her memory, the way dreams sometimes do. Maybe that was for the best. She couldn't recall details, but she remembered it had been something nasty. She swung her legs over to get out of bed and Rover lept up into her lap. She gave the collie a big hug and felt so good that her dog was there to greet her in the morning. Then she sneezed, and sneezed again. Darn! Still allergic to pet hair! They found that out when she stayed over at a friend's house when she was little. That was why she'd never been able to have a cat or... or a dog... She opened her eyes. There was no dog. Of course not. She never had a dog. Downstairs, Donna Hooper shouted, "Becky, breakfast!" Becky put some clothes on and dashed down the stairs. She sat down at the breakfast table and looked at the strawberry covered belgian waffles and licked her lips. She cut a waffle, and brought a bit to her lips. But as she put it in her mouth, it didn't taste right. It tasted like... toast, which was in her hand. She looked down and saw she had toast and yogurt, like she did nearly every morning. After eating, she went back upstairs. She felt a little grungy, so she decided to jump in the shower. As she soaped up all over, she twinged when she washed her nipples. They were still so sore where the needles... the what? She stopped to think. Wait... what hurt? She couldn't remember.

The day from then on went perfectly. She watched TV and the shows were perfect. She went shopping and everything went great. She had a cappachino at the food court and it tasted perfect. She glanced at a clock and saw she had just enough time to get home, as they were having a guest for dinner tonight. When she got home, she helped set the table, and then Barbara Gordon arrived to join the Hoopers for dinner, as she had many times. Babs said she brought a dessert, and when Becky looked into the box, it was filled with belgian waffles covered with whipped cream and strawberries. This startled her! She turned to Babs and asked why she brought that. Barbara asked "Why Rebecca, don't you like cheesecake?" And sure enough when Becky looked back she was holding a nice little cheesecake. "I hope it's enough for all of us!" Babs said. Rebecca was about to say it would easily be enough for the four of them, when she looked up and saw she was sitting at the dinner table and Arnie was sitting to her right. When did he get there? Across the table she saw Wonder Woman! And next to the Amazon Princess sat the adult Rebecca Belham, who she'd met in her trip though the dimensions. The other Rebecca smiled at her and said, "Thanks for inviting me. I'm glad you have a chance to meet my children, Jonathan and Emily." Sure enough, the next two chairs had a young boy who looked like Arnie and a little girl. But as Becky looked over, the little girl suddenly had the wrinkled face of her Grandma Emily. Becky's head spun at the strange way her world kept changing and she put her hands over her eyes. Suddenly a hundred voices all said, "Becky, are you alright?" She looked up, then to her right. The table stretched to infinity, and sitting there were her friend Leona, J'onn J'onzz, Stargirl, and dozens of Patrick Hoopers, Donna Hoopers and Becky Hoopers -- all the ones she'd met in her dimension hopping adventure. Becky blinked. and all of them were gone. Only her parents and Babs were sitting at the table, and these three were staring at her. Barbara put her hand on Becky's and said, "You alright, Beck? You seemed to zone out for awhile. I asked you to pass the rolls and you didn't seem to even hear me."

Becky shook her head and blinked her eyes. "Sorry, Babs. Guess I'm a little tired. I didn't sleep right last night. I had a nasty nightmare about..." About what, she thought. It was really, really bad, and she could almost see it in her mind, but the memory just was too blurry. The rest of the dinner was perfect, right down to that delicious strawberry cheesecake Barbara brought for desert. After they sat and watched television and talked about stuff for awhile, then Babs had to go and Becky decided to get to bed early. She put on a nightshirt and crawled into bed. She suddenly was shocked as arms reached around and caressed her. She spun to see Arnie laying in bed alongside her. Before she could say a word, he pressed his lips to hers and they passionately kissed. He pressed himself against her, and she felt his penis growing hard against her body. What a perfect end to the day...

Part Four

Becky opened her eyes and she was back on that tabletop, naked and tied down in the spotlight that illuminating the center of the room. All of those memories came back to her and she stiffened in terror. She now remembered every horrible thing that had happened to her the last time she was here. Her head went back and forth searching the darkness for her tormentor. She lay there for awhile, the cool air chilling her body and making her nipples rigid. Finally the same horrid man approached her. "Still can't wake up? What a shame." His hand reached out and a finger brushed across first one nipple, then the other. She gasped from the pain. They were still extremely sore from the torture. He then put his hand to her crotch and stuck a couple of fingers into her, pinching, poking and jabbing her in a way that was designed not to arouse her, but to cause her as much pain as possible. Even as this went on, she felt her opening beginning to lubricate. He looked into her face as he spoke. "I used the box to shock you before. It's an old unit, that I have used for many years on many prisoners. I have gotten sort of nostalgic about that little box. But now-a-days everything is new and improved." He reached to his belt with the hand not in her crotch and pulled out a small hand-held plastic gizmo that had two little metal knobs sticking out of one end. Becky could not figure out what it was, as she'd never seen anything like it. The man in black brought it up to her and pressed the end with the knobs against her side. His thumb hit a button and Rebecca's body jolted and twitched as the electro-shock unit shot a charge into her body. This was even worse than the shocks she'd gotten before. After her short contact with the unit, her body spasmed in pain and she fought to catch her breath. The man reached over with his other hand and slapped her face. He yelled, "Damnit, why don't you wake up!" He slapped her again and again. And she laid there and wondered why she couldn't wake up and escape this horror. Again he backed out of the circle of light and disappeared.

Becky lay there in pain, and shaking with fear as she knew her tormentor was waiting, just beyond the edge of the light. She couldn't move her body, all she could do was think. So that was what she would have to do to try to take her thoughts off the suffering she was going through. She closed her eyes and wondered -- was she asleep? No, the pain was too intense and her surroundings were too sharp. But mostly, her tormentors constant attempt to convince her she was asleep had to mean she wasn't. But he wanted her to think she was. Why? Then there was the period when she wasn't trapped on this table. That was the part that was so weird it had to be the dream. All those elements that had faded in her memory came back as she concentrated. All the parts that didn't make sense. That had to be the dream. And it kept trying to be... perfect. That was what made it so obviously a dream. It was trying to be too perfect.

She felt his hand on her breast, and winced. She decided to see what would happen if she played along with his scheme. Without opening her eyes, she groaned and murmured in a soft voice, "Oh, God, I have to wake up." He pinched the tender nipple and she opened her eyes. "Yes," he told her, "... you really should." She saw he still wore the black ski mask, but was otherwise naked. He climbed up on the table and straddled her stomach. He leaned forward, resting his erect cock between Becky's breasts. He roughly grabbed her tits and squeezed them together over his cock. He began pumping his dick back and forth between the boobs as his thumbs twiddled and pressed the tender nipples. She grimaced and groaned from the pain in her nipples as the man roughly titty-fucked her. Soon his cock spurted cum over her neck and face. He grinned and slid up on her until his ass rested on her sore breasts. His cock waved in her face and she resolved to ignore it. Her head turned away and she clamped her mouth shut. But the man reached back and one of his hands went to her pussy. Three fingers went into her and grabbed and twisted the edge of her cunt. She gasped as it felt like her crotch was being torn apart. She knew the only way to make that pain stop. She turned her head back and opened her mouth. He slammed his cock deep into her mouth and she started to lick it and suck on it. His ass moved around on her breasts, and her she winced at the sensations in her sore tits. His cock grew stiff and hard and she struggled to keep all of it in her mouth. He ejaculated again and she fought to swallow it as fast as it came. As he swung to the side and moved to get off her chest, he said to her. "Why the hell can't you wake up? How much more will you force me to do to you?" She closed her eyes and sobbed. "I really want to. I'm trying. But I can't wake up!"

The man left the circle of light, and Becky tried to calm her pounding heart. She wondered if he believed that she was considering this to be a dream? Was there anything else she could do? She ran what had happened through her mind, over and over, trying to make sense out of it. She became certain that this was real, the events at home were the dream. How could she change the way things were going? What was the key? Of course -- it came to her. The powder. He'd blown a handful of something into her face supposedly to wake her up. But that didn't make sense. That sort of thing would be designed to put her to sleep, not to wake her up. She then knew what she would have to do.

He returned, once again dressed in black, standing on the edge of the light. In his hand, was a coiled black leather whip. He cracked the whip and brought it down on her ankles. She winced from the pain. Then he ran it over her again and again, each stroke slowly moving up her body. When he reached her crotch the leather stung her there and the pain was intense. But then he moved up her stomach towards her breasts. They were already so sore and tender from what he had done to them in the past that she could not help but writhe back and forth, pulling as hard as she could against her bonds. But she could not get loose and the whip began lashing across her tortured tits. With every stoke she gasped and screamed as loud as her voice could go. She felt her entire body was on fire and the pain was consuming her. Finally the lashing stopped and she shuddered and twitched from the pain still coursing through her. She didn't even notice he had left, her suffering was so great. And it was only a brief period before he returned and again stood next to her. He took one hand and ran it over her body. She groaned as the pain came back. He held that hand over her face, and she saw the blood on it. The whip had sliced the skin at several spots and she was covered with nicks and small cuts. He brought his other hand up, and it held a small green bottle. He grinned and held it where she could see the label. Her eyes could hardly focus from all the pain, and she finally made out what it said. Oh, God, NO! The man poured the lemon juice over his other hand, rinsing the blood off. The fluid went over Becky's body and the hand came down to spread the juice into her wounds. Becky's body burned intensely and she screamed harder that she thought was humanly possible.

He passed out of the circle of light, and she tried to compose herself after the ordeal she'd just endured. She took deep breaths and the pain was still running through her body, but she concentrated on enduring it. She saw the man reenter the light, and noticed he held one hand palm up, cupped. The powder? If that was next... She took several deep breaths, then murmured, "Oh, if I could only wake up!" When the man leaned over her, he said, "Yes, it would be best if you woke up." He put the hand by her head and blew into it, causing the powder to fly into her face. But Rebecca had been waiting for this moment, so she held her breath and closed her eyes tight. As she felt the powder hit her face she exhaled a little through her nose to push any of the powder out of her nostrils. She kept her eyes closed, relaxed her body and began beathing shallowly, pretending she had fallen asleep.

She squinted through her eyelids with her eyes almost shut and saw the man in black return to the table holding a small basin. He took out a wet washcloth and began to wipe down Rebecca's body, cleaning the blood, juice and cum off her. She winced every once in the while, but the man didn't seem to care. He apparently thought she was reacting in her sleep. Suddenly a voice came from the darkness. "Does she suffer? I paid you a lot of money, Neculai Serbanescu." The man in black peeled off his ski mask and turned to look at a figure who came into the light. Becky did not dare turn her head to see who it was, but the voice was one she'd heard before. The torturer spoke. "Don't worry, Daraba. She is suffering quite a bit. And when my process moves on to the final phase, she will suffer more than any person has in history. That is what you are paying for and what you will get. But ultimate suffering takes time to develop. I've only had her here for 36 hours. You must be patient." Becky was stunned to find the man who had entered was Arakim Daraba, the leader of the Brotherhood of Allah. The middle eastern terror group had smuggled a thermo-nuclear warhead into the United States only months before and without Glory Girl's intervention, would have detonated the weapon in Granite City. Daraba was going to a lot of trouble to get revenge on the heroine who had foiled his plans.

Through her squinting eyes Becky saw the terrorist move to the table and watch Serbanescu coontinue to wash her body down and clean up the prisoner. The torturer squeezed a white cream from a tube onto his finger and began to apply it to her nipples, where they had been pierced and to the nicks and cuts she'd gotten from the whipping. Daraba asked, "Why do you do that? Let her suffer with open wounds!" Serbanescu shook his head. "No, I want her healthy enough to take a long period of torture. She will not get infections in these minor wounds and escape me by dying. She is strong, and we will use that strength to keep her subject to my process for a long, horrible time." Daraba wanted more information. "I've paid you enough. What exactly will I get for my money. How much will she suffer? I could have gotten anybody to torture her. Word about you was you offered to cause the most misery for the longest time for the right price." Serbanescu nodded. "That is my expertise. The Corsican Mafia paid me to do this to the members of the Legion de'Liberte in Paris. I did so, and the man who observed it went back and reported to his bosses, who were very pleased at what I did. Those superheroes had captured high-ranking members of the gangs and the crime families were thirsty for the most horrid revenge possible on Madame Mystique, Marquisa du Gennesaile and Henri de Rouge. All three suffered for years before their bodies finally gave out. This is what you are paying me to do to the young lady. Not just hours or days of misery, but years." Daraba smiled. "Excellent. How do you do this?"

"I use a process I have developed with the knowledge of years of practice in torture. My work in Romania for the Departamentul Securitatii Statului was excellent training. Under Ceausescu the government valued a good torturer." Serbanescu untied Glory Girls hands, sat next to her on the table and pulled the upper half of her body up. He leaned her against him while he washed down her back. If the torturer had been there alone, Becky would have attacked him. But her body was stiff and very weak, and Daraba was standing nearby. Her ankles were still tied down and she could not chance a move against both of the men. Serbanescu continued. "I use regular torture techniques on her to make her suffer. Physical. Psychological. Sexual. And as I do so, I keep telling her she is asleep and she must wake up. Eventually her weakened state will make her believe this. In alternate periods of time, I place a metal hood over her head that sends pulsations of energy into her unconcious mind. While she does sleep, she is influenced by the sleep hood to dream of a wonderful perfect life. After a period of time her own mind will retreat from the harsh reality that she thinks is a dream and flee into the dream she thinks is a safe reality. She will force herself into a deep coma that she will not be able to escape from." The torturer laid the upper part of Becky's body gentlely back down on the table and moved to retie her wrists. He then went to untie her ankles. He lifted first one leg, then the other, washing and cleaning them as he had done the upper part of her body. He twisted her at the waist, in order to wipe down and clean the sweat off her ass. Then he moved her back into the position she'd been in and re-tied her legs. While he did all this, he continued to inform Daraba of what was going to be done to the helpless victim. "Once she has entered the coma, fleeing from the world of reality that was so awful to her, I adjust this dial on the front of the sleep hood. Right now it is turned fully to the left, at setting one. As I twist it to the right, her dreams will become worse and worse. When she reaches setting ten, her dreams will be tortures that will be far beyond anything a person could withstand or imagine." Daraba peered closely at the metal hood the torturer was holding, and Becky also saw it with her squinting eyes.

Daraba asked, "What will she see in her dreams then? What exactly will you force her to experience when you reach the later stages of the process?" Serbanescu replied. "I do not know. That is the beauty of the hood. It takes the thoughts and memories of the victim and feeds them into her mind, making her construct the false reality. It seems very real to her because it uses everything she remembers to build it. There is no way for us to see what she is thinking, but it takes everything she trusts and loves to build a dream world she trusts. After I twist the dial, she will be haunted by everything she would feel is horrible and terrible. And the horrors will be very bad because the hood builds them by using her mind to produce what she would fear the most. At setting ten she will spend her days watching her loved ones being tortured and killed. All of her worst enemies will have her at their mercy. She will be tortured and hurt by people she thought were her closest friends, and things like that. When I used it on Madame Mystique in Paris, she talked in her sleep and I was able to hear part of what she faced. Her husband and her best friend killed and ate her child. They whipped her and forced her to watch them fornicate in front of her bound body. Her own father repeatedly raped her. Her face rotted from leperosy. Snakes entered her vagina and squirmed around inside her. Judging by her reaction to that sequence, I think Madame Mystique was terrified of snakes. All of these things she went through were much worse than any dreams I could have constructed for her. Only the victim herself would know the worst things to fear." Becky, still pretending to be asleep, felt Serbanescu lift her head and slid the metal hood onto her. She heard a click and...

Part Five

....she sat up, safe and sound in her bed at home. A good night's sleep and she felt really perfect. But no... the nightmare... the way she had been tortured and abused. It started to fade in her memory, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on remembering every nasty little bit of it. She would not allow her mind to be manipulated the way that man, Serbanescu, wanted. She kept her mind focused until she was sure that nothing would take those memories from her. She heard her mother's voice come up the stairs. "Becky, come for breakfast!" Rebecca stood up, and pulled on a t-shirt and shorts. Her body ached as she recalled the ordeal. She kept thinking to herself, that was real -- this wasn't. This was the dream where everything was supposed to be perfect. But perfection wasn't real and she had realised that. It was the "perfect" things that made her see the impossiblities. Why, even now, she would be seeing what would be perfect, not what was real. In a perfect world...

She got to the kitchen, and saw her Dad sitting there, staring down at a plate of charred eggs and sausages. Becky wondered how they had been ruined, and glanced to see Mom at the stove. But it wasn't her Mom, it was Wonder Woman who wore a frilly white apron over her costume and held a frying pan that was smoking. Wonder Woman spoke. "I'm sorry, honey. I guess I didn't keep a close enough eye on your eggs. Oh, hi Becky. Your toast and yogurt are ready." Becky paused in the doorway, taking this in. She guessed that even though she really loved her Mom a lot, somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind she had a thought that it would be perfect if Wonder Woman was her Mom. Weird. She sat down and grabbed her toast. She noticed that it was burned black. Apparently in her thinking, she couldn't believe that Diana could cook, so in this dream, she couldn't. Pat Hooper got up and turned to Diana. "Well, darling," he said as he took the Amazon Princess in his arms, "...I didn't marry you for your cooking." Mister Patriot and Wonder Woman were suddenly kissing and groping each other. Becky dropped the toast and clamped her hands over her eyes. She concentrated her thoughts carefully. She did not think it would be perfect to have Wonder Woman for her mother! And when she opened her eyes again, things were back to normal. Her father was eating a perfectly prepared plate of eggs and sausages and the usual toast and yogurt were on the plate in front of her. Donna Hooper was there, putting a glass of apple juice in front of her husband.

Becky ate her breakfast and went into the living room. When she woke up back in Serbanescu's clutches, she would have to find a way to get loose and escape. That wouldn't be easy, Until then, she was stuck in this perfect dream. She sat on the couch and tried to think of what she was going to do. But quickly her perfect dream had Arnie sitting next to her, his arm on her shoulder. Sigh. It was wonderful, but she could not hide in this dream with the perfection. The perfection was not helping. She needed to fight that. This was designed to suck her in. To trap her into wanting to live the dream. But she could not allow that. She knew that the dream would only lead to horrors. The only perfect solution was to concentrate on knowing what going to happen in her dreams if she didn't fight it. And as she thought this, Arnie's arm slid up from her shoulders and locked around her throat. He pulled at her and cut off her breathing. She fought back instinctively, putting her elbow into his ribs. He loosened and she struggled free. He came at her and she had to put her fist into his jaw. He dropped to the floor. Becky's hands shook as she realized what had just happened. Serbanescu had spoken of this. In her dreams had she gotten to the part where he was giving her nightmares? She looked around her living room, and Arnie was gone. She stood there, alone. She thought that it was not the dream hood, but her mind that was doing this. She was fighting the perfection and part of her was thinking about the prospect of facing horrors here in the dream world. So she was getting a preview of what she would expect to see.

She blinked, and she was in a large building, wearing her Glory Girl costume. She heard the crack of a whip behind her, and spun, expecting to see Serbanescu. But the villainess, Catwoman stood there. "Alright, blondie. I had Batgirl and the Huntress in my clutches and you had to ruin it. I owe you for that and you will get payback right here, right now." The feline fiend snapped the whip and it sliced through her costume into Becky's right shoulder. Becky grimaced at this and took off at a dead run at the costumed criminal. She could not stand back and allow the whip to rip her to shreds. She tackled Catwoman and they went to the floor. Selina's hand ripped at Rebecca and razor-sharp talons on her gloves put a row of gashes across Glory Girl's face. Becky used her arms to push away from Selina, then brought a knee up to smash into Catwoman's chin. The larcenous lady went down, and Becky followed up with a kick to her ribs and a sock to her jaw. Catwoman was knocked out. As soon as Becky stopped to take a breath, the criminal vanished and the warehouse was gone.

She was tied up and back in the auto yard! NO! She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to make this stop. But when she opened them she was again tied up, but in the basemant room with the nuclear bomb ticking away. Again, she tried to think her way out. She was six years old, on a slick winter street with a truck about to hit her. She was rolling around naked on the floor with Wonder Woman, wrestling in front of Kagen Noll. She was tied on that table in Professor Cargill's undergound shelter. She tried again to escape these dreams of horror. She opened her eyes to her own living room, where she was alone. She took a deep breath, and wondered what would happen next. But she sat there quietly, and the dream seemed to had settled into a perfect, quiet day.

Part Six

When she awoke -- and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was waking up -- she found she was tied face down now. Her poor breasts were pushed down against the table top and her arms were stretched out tight with the wrists tied securely. Her body was bent at the waist, with her legs tied down against the table legs. When she heard Serbanescu move up behind her, she again went to play along with his scheme. She moaned. "Oh god... why can't I wake up? Why do I keep coming back to this horrible dream?" The torturer put his hand on her back and whispered, "Just keep trying, young lady. Soon you will escape this wretched dream and escape to a a perfect world as you wake up." But she resolved to herself, I won't surrender. I will fight this as long as I can.

Serbanescu put his hands on her butt and pushed two thumbs into her asshole. His fingers spread her ass cheeks and pulled the hole wide. Was he going to fuck her in there? She couldn't see. But he just seemed to be want to poke, massage and probe with his fingers. Then she felt him insert something into her ass. It wasn't his dick, but something else. And her pussy also had something inserted into it. She figured they were some kind of plastic dildos, and they were pretty uncomfortable, but not too painful. Then he ran a strap over her crotch and attached a belt at her waist to hold it in place. This pressed against the dildos in her holes, so they stayed in place as she felt them begin to vibrate. She wiggled her hips a little as the vibrations ran through her body. It was very hard to concentrate on anything else, so she didn't even notice the torturer leave the circle of light and come back after she had been putting up with the buzzing units inside her for some time. She felt her cunt moisten around the intruder and she stiffened and came due to the vibrations running through her innards. Following this she continued to be aroused by the vibrations. But she suddenly heard the whip crack and felt the tip slice across her protruding ass. The sensations of the dildo and butt-plug moving in her and the strokes of the whip across her butt drove her crazy. She wiggled as much as she could, but the whip kept coming and the inserts kept sending their vibrations through her. She came three more times as the whipping continued. Then he put the whip down, moved behind her and removed the belt and strap. He took the butt-plug out and used his finger to swab some of her juices into the anus. Then he pushed his cock into her and pumped her ass while the dildo continued to vibrate in her pussy. She came again, and she felt his dick spurt his cum into her ass. He pulled back and reached down to pull the vibrating dildo from her pussy. He tossed it aside, then brought a hand down on her ass. With a wide palm he smacked first once butt cheek, then the other. Here cheeks were very sore from the whipping, and his slaps intensified the pain she felt.

While he smacked her ass, his cock had been reviving, and he slammed it into her pussy without any warning. He pumped in and out roughly and her body rocked on the edge of the table. As he moved in her, he suddenly pulled the shocker off his belt and pressed it into her back. She spasmed and twitched at the jolt, and she felt her body weaken. She could hardly move anything, except her crotch which was grinding in rhythm to his thrusts into her. He came again, and shot his seed deep into her. She shuddered at this and moaned from the pain and exhaustion that ran throughout her battered body. Serbanescu bent down and untied her legs, then climbed on her back and sat on her back, mashing her tits into the table. He reached up and untied one of her wrists, then the other. He put the shocker against her neck and jolted her twice. Then he moved down from the table and reached for her body, pulling her over onto her back. Becky realised she was loose and tried to fight, but her poor body could not seem to do anything. The torture and electro-shocks had sapped her of all her energy and she could not even raise a hand to resist when he stretched her out on the table back in a face up position. He tied her wrists and ankles securely once more, and moved out of the light. She laid there and sobbed while he was gone, depressed at the situation she was in. She did have a short while where she laid there, and she thought her body, though still very weak, had recovered a little bit. Then she glanced over and saw the torturer, fully dressed, come back into the light. He again had the whip and slowly lashed the front of her body, pulling the tip of the lash against her legs, groin, stomach and tits. Every bit of her that he hit was very sore and the continued lashing increased her agony. He spoke. "Glory Girl, you have to stop accepting this horrible torture. Just relax and concentrate on waking up!"

Part Seven

Serbanescu came at her once again with one hand cupped, palm up. She was waiting for the powder, and was ready. Becky took a few deep breaths, closed her eyes, and made sure she didn't inhale any of the dust. She pretended to go under. As before, Serbanescu took the basin of water and a washcloth and cleaned up the front of her naked body. Then he untied her wrists and sat next to her, pulling her upper torso towards him to sit her up. As he reached for the cloth to wash her back, he looked at her face. And saw her eyes snap open, to stare back at him. He was stunned. Especially because he didn't see fear in those eyes, but anger. He spoke. "So, you are a very tough opponent, Glory Girl. Good, that makes my task more enjoyable. You are awake, and see what is happening. But it is too late. You have been beaten and tortured here long enough that your body is too weak to resist. Even if you hit me, I won't even feel it. I still have you and you can't escape." Becky choked out a snarl. "Wrong, asshole!"

Her hand had gone to his belt and she'd gotten what she had wanted. She brought it up to Serbanescu's neck and pressed the contacts into him, thumbing the trigger of the electro-shock unit. His body jerked and twitched, and he fought to stay upright. But she zapped him a second and a third time. His eyes glazed over and he toppled forward. Becky did not have the strength to stay sitting up, let alone to stop from falling back with the heavy muscular body dropping on top of her. She groaned at his weight. She thought he was out, but this was the most dangerous part of her plan. She had to put the shocker down to wiggle out from under him, and was very afraid he would wake up before she could do anything. She struggled, with practically no part of her body that wasn't wracked with pain. She pushed at him and tried to wiggle her body out from under him. Slowly, he slid over and she was alongside him. She reached down to his belt and pulled the knife from its scabbard. She paused as her gaze went from the blade to Serbanescu's neck. It would be so easy to kill him right now. Just a simple slash across his throat. But she couldn't do that. She wasn't a killer. So she struggled to pull herself into a sitting position, with the muscles in her arms hurting like hell. She doubled her body to allow her arms to just reach the ropes on her ankles. With the knife, she sawed herself free and rolled off the table. She tried to stand, but her legs just gave out and she crumpled to the floor.

The torturer could wake up at any time, so she crawled over to the dream hood and dragged it back to the table she'd been on. Managing to pull herself up on her knees, she slid the hood over Serbanescu's head and went over the components. She found a switch plainly labeled "on/off" and flipped it. The unit hummed and she hoped it would keep him out. She watched his face for a while, and he seemed to be in a deep sleep. Suddenly there was a low buzz that came from his belt. She looked over and saw a cell phone. She pulled it off and flipped it open. Putting it to her ear, she heard, "Serbanescu, what progess? Is she suffering? How soon will you report her utter defeat?" Rebecca recognized Daraba's voice and spoke into the phone. "Sorry, but Serbanescu can't come to the phone right now. He is... sleeping!" There was a long pause, then Daraba asked, "Who...who is this?" Becky's anger raged as she answered. "You know damn well who this is, Daraba. That's probably a really large amount of money you wasted on this scheme. All for nothing. But I hope you try again. Come and get me. Because when you do I'll be the one who gets you. I've stopped you before and I'll keep stopping you until you're dead or in prison. DAMN YOU TO HELL!" She heard the man on the other end hang up, and she angrily threw the phone away. She heard it hit something and it sounded like it broke. Shit! That was dumb! She could have used the phone to call for help. Now she had to find a way out of here.

She tried again to stand, but her legs just could not support her. With arms and legs in excrutiating pain she crawled along the floor to the edge of the circle of light. Once past it, she could make out a little of the room. No windows, one door. Probably locked, and she didn't know where the key was. Even with the dream hood on him, would Serbanescu stay out for long? Even now, was Daraba on his way there to finish her off? Becky looked back at the floor where she'd crawled. there was a trail of blood as the cuts the whip had put on her knees had pulled open. She just lay there on the floor, weak as a damp dishrag and wincing with pain all over her body.

But when she had placed the dream hood on the torturer, she had not noticed she'd brushed her hand over the intensity knob. It had been moved from position one to position ten, which meant the dreams being fed to Serbanescu were designed to terrorize him. In his mind, the Romanian was standing in a flagstone courtyard. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed above him, and the rain pelted him. Once this storm would have terrified him, but he had spent his life overcoming his childhood fear of lightning. Even when a bolt crashed near him, he was uncomfortable, but held his fear in check. He began to sense that he was in the dream hood. So, the blond heroine was trying to hold him helpless with his own invention! She was truly a formidable foe. But if he... "But if you concentrate, you can will yourself to wake up. You have not been weakened by torture, as your victims were." Serbanescu heard the man's voice and looked to one side where stood the red clad hero, Henri de Rouge. "How did you..." the torturer called out, "...why are you here? I defeated you! You died! You can't stop me from leaving this dream world!" The crimson hero of the streets of Paris cupped his hands by his mouth and began to give out a high pitched squeal from his throat. The cone of sound flew at Serbanescu and caused his head to throb. His ears and eyes pounded from the vibrations. Henri de Rouge stopped, and called out. "You have to concentrate to escape this dream. And we are here to see you can't. You will go mad in this nightmare, receiving the same horrible fate you gave us." The Romanian had his hands tight against his ears to try to stop the sonic attack when suddenly someone behind him grabbed his wrists. He glanced back and saw it was a woman's hands, but he could not pull free. He heard her voice and at once recognized it. "Hello Neculai, my one time lover. Do you remember coming to Paris and fawning on me -- telling me what an amazing heroine I was? I remember. I recall us becoming friends, then lovers. Then you drugged me, tortured me and sent me to a nightmare world where you destroyed my mind. Long afterwards, my wretched shell of a body sat in that hospital until it finally gave out. Did you think you would ever see your loving Marquisa again?" The torturer did not reply. Now he was the one trembling with fear. Marquisa du Gennesaile had her right hand holding his right wrist. Her hand slowly covered with frost, them became ice. Serbanescu felt his hand and forearm begin to freeze. Pinpricks of pain ran through the nerves as his flesh, muscle and blood froze solid. The marquisa's left hand began to glow a bright red and then slowly was covered in flames. Serbanescu's left hand and forearm were incinerated, and charred flesh dropped from the bones. He screamed in pain as his hands were destroyed. The French heroine who could control temperature with her body still held him upright. As his mind reeled from the pain that ran through him, he wondered if the third member of the Legion de'Liberte would appear. And he looked out and saw her, the other heroine he had captured, tortured and destroyed. Madame Mystique stood in front of him in her glory. Her dark long hair streamed down her back, and her beautiful body was accented by the lowcut black leather bustier, leather shorts that were split and laced up the side, black domino mask and a long black satin cape. In her right hand he saw she held a whip. It was the same one he kept as a memento after he'd defeated her, and the one he'd used on Glory Girl. Madame Mystique spoke. "You will not escape, Neculai Serbanescu. You trapped us in our nightmares, and we will keep you here in yours. The only thing your mind will be able to concentrate on will be the pain we will give you." And she cracked her whip, over and over, shredding the clothes off the torturer and cutting the front of his body to ribbons. He screamed. This was a scream that would last until his body could not take the terror and his heart just stopped. The heroes he had tortured had hung on in their nightmares for a long time because even under the worst conditions, they had some hope. But Serbanescu had designed this torturous process and knew there was no chance. So he gave up and died.

Rebecca lay on the floor, not too far from the torturer's body, unable to bring herself to even crawl anymore. Her eyelids were dropping, but she didn't want to fall into another horrid dream. A dream of perfection. A false dream where someone would burst in and rescue her. Then she looked at the door and saw sparks and smoke at the lock. The door popped open and she saw Batgirl enter, then stop to gasp as she looked down at Becky. Noooo... If she was back in the dream, that meant he had her once again...

But the figure came to Becky's side, put an arm under her and lifted her up to a sitting position. "Becky, can you hear me. Oh, god, you look terrible." Batgirl pulled Rebecca close and hugged her. "I'm sorry, Beck. I should have gotten here sooner. I should have tracked you down sooner. Please hang on. Medics are on the way."

The ambulance and police arrived minutes later. Becky was taken to a hospital and after a week she had recovered enough that she went home. While she totally recovered, it took a while before she could close her eyes without being a little afraid of what dreams would hold for her.