Pain lanced through the woman known as Victory and she moaned as she tried to ignore the things that were happening to her. Nearby she heard the sound of the others egging their leader on as he raped Victory’s helpless body waiting for their turn at her. A quick look showed that all three men were naked, aroused and eager to explore the heroine’s lovely body.
The large phallus of her captor, who was thoroughly enjoying her voluptuous body, ruthlessly penetrated her body moving with an insistent rhythm that made the helpless heroine groan louder. She was on his knee as he bucked up and down. His mouth fastened to her left breast, drinking in the milk that ran freely from it. He suckled at her breast, milking her of her special powers and leaving her too weak to fight his vicious attack. His name was Mongol and he was the leader of the group of thieves that had decided her bank would make a good target. He hadn’t known that the bank manager, Victoria Talbot, was also the British superheroine Victory, he still didn’t, yet, as she still wore her mask and the remains of her costume. He’d used a hostage, a security guard, to get her to surrender when she’d faced them, then forced her to go with them when they escaped. Now, in the gang’s hideout, Mongol had decided to play with his ‘guest’, discovering victory’s weakness purely by accident.
Victory hated this aspect of her powers, the intensely sensitive nature of her breasts meant they were easily aroused and, once aroused, lactated. Her milk was linked to her powers and anyone who drank that milk temporarily gained her abilities, whilst robbing her of them for the same period.
Mongol had felt something happening when he started suckling at her breast, but he had yet to realise that as she grew weaker, he grew stronger. He simply assumed that it was the sex weakening her struggles. He enjoyed exercising his control over women, making them his slaves and using their bodies however her wished. This one was special though. Her body was perfect in every detail. He intended to break her will and make her his sex slave, forever! He pushed her down onto a table, his manhood pistoning in and out of the helpless heroine as she squirmed and tried to fight her rising passion. He howled out as he pumped his seed deep inside the heroine and collapsed on top of her.
Victory moaned as Mongol came, feeling truly violated and disgusted at her body’s desire to give in to this violent sex. Slowly Mongol started suckling at her breast again and his hips started moving once more.
“I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically, grunting into her pain-contorted face, “it’s been a long time since I had a woman like you and I’m a bit out of practice. Still, practice makes perfect.”
Victory could see why he had difficulty finding partners for his sadistic desires, he was the most hideous man she’d ever seen. His bestial features reminded her of a Neanderthal, though his looks were deceiving, as his mind was very sharp. He was hideously strong under normal conditions, enhanced by Victory’s powers he was irresistible. He was also incredibly large, Victory felt as if he would split her open with the phallus moving slowly in and out of her sensitive vagina. His long, lank black hair smelt of sweat along with other things Victory tried to ignore.
Victory moaned as her body began to respond to the movements, it was a long time since she had had a lover too, though she refused to think of this animal as a lover. Her usual preference ran to her own sex, though even other women had taken advantage of her at times. She hated the sensations running through her, but she couldn’t deny her body was beginning to like this vicious raped! His movements reminded her of her last lover and the double dildo they’d used on each other for long hours at a time. As the memory surfaced, her body responded with increasing passion to the insistent rhythm of Mongol’s hips. Oh Goddess, she was beginning to climax!
Victory screamed out in ecstasy as her imagination relived the last night she and Francine shared together, her body convulsing in pleasure, even as she hated herself for enjoying this vicious use of her body. Her orgasm went on and on as, in her head, she saw two bodies writhing in ecstatic release, herself and the French student who had shared her room, and her bed.
Then another image intruded on the scene of pleasurable release, the image that had driven Victory from the shores of her beloved England to the streets of Megapolis. The image that had taunted and tormented her since she became Victory and left behind her ordinary, mundane life. The image of the woman who had forced Victoria to become what she was and, in a way, led her to this ignominious defeat. Morgana Le Fey!
As always, the thought of the Pagan Witch threw victory into a waking dream of that time and her mind relived the day she became Victory and all that had followed…
Stonehenge, an ancient monument and one of the greatest of the old Druidic temples, supposedly. Victoria Talbot looked up at the megalithic stones and wondered just how a muscle-powered society had managed to erect such a monument. She shook her blonde hair in the breeze as the sun shone on her from behind her. Tomorrow morning was mid-summer and, supposedly, the most significant dawn of the Druidic calendar. Already the fields surrounding the henge were crowded with New age travellers and people claiming to be Druids, but none of them were allowed anywhere near the site itself. The only reason Victoria was there was because she was studying the henge and its myths at Oxford, not to mention the fact her father was, in name, the Noble who owned this land. Being the Duke’s daughter didn’t hurt when you wanted to do something that normally wasn't allowed.
Victoria Talbot carefully worked her way around Stonehenge, mapping out the positions of the stones and postulating what they would have been like in the days when it stood in all it’s glory. She too was a glorious sight to those watching from a distance. Sun-blonde hair falling in soft waves about her shoulders, green eyes that sparkled with intelligence and life. A sensual mouth that smiled easily and often, adding immeasurably to the natural allure of her classically aristocratic looks. Her fine features had a perfection seldom found naturally and Victoria was well aware of how beautiful she was. It had often been a valuable bargaining chip, though she never sold herself to achieve an end. She had a natural superiority, along with a titled father, that often guaranteed her what she wanted.
Her body seemed, at first, to be at odds with her obvious intelligence, being that of a sex goddess rather than an Oxford Honours Student. Large firm breasts that strained the fabric of her sweat-dampened t-shirt, through which could be seen the outline of the lacy bra she wore. Slender waist, flat stomach, rounded buttocks and legs that seemed to go on for miles, all clad in tight white jeans. At six feet tall, her figure made her seem very exotic, yet she relished the attention her looks drew to her, being a hedonist by nature. She was an erotic fantasy on legs, to those who watched and many of the men watching as she worked had fantasies that would have made Victoria cringe. The allure of her body increased as her youth became obvious. At eighteen, Victoria was one of the youngest Honours student working on a thesis. Her long, lean arms and nimble fingers positioned her equipment with practiced precision. She moved with an easy quality that betrayed her gymnastic training, though if any of the men watching her had tried to touch her he would have been in for a very rude awakening. Victoria was one of very few women to have mastered the art of Kick Boxing to a degree she had almost been selected for competition. All told, Victoria Talbot was a very strange young woman, being intelligent, sexy and very capable.
Victoria was aware of the lust-filled gazes in her direction. She was also aware that many of those gazes were envious, or angry at her presence in a place they couldn’t reach. She had heard that some of the ‘Druids’ had complained about her presence on, what was to them, sacred ground. They had demanded her removal, but the police knew she had permission to be there, unlike the ‘Druids’. She’d heard that some had threatened to do something about her sacrilegious presence in ‘their’ temple, but she wasn’t worried over such threats.
Victoria finished her preparations and settled down beside her tent, pitched just outside the henge, to write up her notes. She had thirty video cameras placed to capture the entire sunrise and the effects of dawn’s first light on the stones themselves. Another advantage of having a rich father, funding wasn’t a problem.
She herself was entitled to the title Lady, but seldom used the title, as it sounded pretentious, though she was very proud of her heritage. Her family was one of the original pre-Norman families that had survived the invasion and the following centuries with their bloodline almost intact, able to trace their line back to some of the earliest kings of Britain. There were some indications her family might even carry the blood of the legendary Uther Pendragon, but that was unproven so far.
Victoria knew she had a slightly arrogant, superior attitude to others, though she tried not to let it become a bone-of-contention with her friends. She often used her arrogance to put off the men who assumed she was another blonde bimbo with no brain. That was why she preferred her lovers female and intelligent, she was tired of having to fight of money-grubbing, title-seeking, lounge lizards. She was between lovers at the present, which is why she was working at Stonehenge alone. Her last lover had returned to France to be with her father, following her mother’s death. She understood it, but it didn’t bode well that Francine didn’t want her there, or to let her meet her father. She hadn’t told her father that her lover was another woman yet, or that she was a lesbian. Well that was her problem, Victoria had other things to think about. Her own father knew about her preferences, understood them and only asked her to keep her affairs discreet. So far, she had managed this quite well.
Victoria watched the sun sink below the horizon and many of the watchers went in search of their own beds, to dream of the lovely girl they’d watched all day. The rest glared at her as she relaxed in the place they wanted to be and seethed as she retired to her tent.
Later that night Victoria awoke, feeling very uncomfortable, she had the odd feeling that something was wrong, though she couldn’t quite determine what. She got up, pulled on a long t-shirt, she preferred to sleep naked when it was hot enough, and went outside to look around. Above her a full moon shone down on the plain and illuminated everything with an eerie light. Victoria shivered and turned back to her tent, only to stop as an odd blue glow caught her attention. It was inside the henge, near the altar stone and the obelisk that stood beside it. Victoria moved slowly and quietly forward, assuming one of the Druids had got past the cordon of police officers. If that was so he could disrupt her carefully placed cameras, ruining her work and putting back the completion of her thesis by a whole year.
She crept forward slowly, trying to stay in the shadows and eventually came to the inner horseshoe of stones. The sight before her made her gasp in surprise, though it captivated her as well. The obelisk was glowing with its own light and within it was a shape, a woman of incredible beauty. Long, reddish-brown hair that fell to her waist, dark, mysterious eyes and a long, lean face that made her small, red-lipped mouth oddly right. The long nose had a roman look, but its thinness showed that it was refined from the original. A long gown covered her body, hugging her torso and showing off her magnificent breasts and trim figure, whilst flaring out to grant her legs freedom to move. The sleeves went all the way down to her wrists and extended in a ‘V’ over the back of her hands, a style not seen since the time of the ancient Britons. She had the look of someone with a keen intelligence and a strong will. The green colour of her gown enhanced the pale colour of her skin, adding to her allure.
Victoria felt herself drawn into the circle of stone, entranced by the woman and her unearthly beauty. The woman smiled and extended a hand to her. Victoria stopped and stared, frightened and excited by this turn of events.
“Who are you?” Victoria asked, awe colouring the contralto of her voice.
“Your destiny, come.” The woman’s voice was full of command and Victoria took the offered hand, despite an inner voice that urged her to run. As she passed into the glowing stone, she felt her body tingle. The mysterious woman smiled and Victoria felt herself drowning in her dark, violet eyes. As their hands met, an electric tingle shot through Victoria, a sexual thrill that went into her breasts and thighs, exciting her in ways that defied reason.
‘Oh god, she’s a real fox and as hot for it as I am,’ she thought as she stepped closer.
Her mind screamed out a warning as she passed into the rock and then it was over. She no longer stood amongst the ruins of Stonehenge. Around her, the henge stood restored to its ancient glory and she stood next to the strange woman, beside the altar stone.
“Welcome,” the woman said, her eyes moving over Victoria’s aroused body beneath her t-shirt. “I have waited a long time for one like you. Now I can be free and you are the one who can help me.”
“How,” Victoria breathed, lost in the woman’s unearthly beauty and only just the strong desire to give in to the moment, to make mad passionate love to her.
“I think you already know the answer to that question,” the woman said, stepping closer and raising her lips to Victoria’s, she was quite short really.
“Yes,” Victoria said, her lips meeting the woman’s in a passionate kiss that went on and one as they embraced, breasts meeting breasts, thigh against thigh and both shaking as passion took over.
Victoria pulled at the ties at the back of the woman’s gown, desperate to see her naked, to kiss her breasts, thighs and discover that sweet crevice between her legs. She felt her own t-shirt slide over her head, then she felt soft hands caressing her large breasts, teasing the small, sensitive nipples into arousal and her world dissolved into a pure, rampant desire for release. Victoria sighed as lips sucked a nipple between small teeth that nipped at it gently. She felt herself falling back onto the altar stone, unable to resist the wild urge to make love to this mysterious, staggeringly beautiful woman. She was totally overcome by sexual desire, she didn’t care how she’d got here or who this mysterious woman was, she wanted to please and be pleased by her, nothing else!
The gown fell to the floor and the woman’s naked body inflamed the desires in Victoria’s body to even higher levels. Breasts as large as her own, with large aureoles and nipples that stood out nearly half an inch. A waist so slender Victoria could almost encircle it with both hands, hips that cried out to be spread apart, revealing their hidden treasure. Between her thighs was a thick bush of red-brown hair that exuded a musky smell of rampant sex.
Her own body shivered as the woman climbed on top of her, her red-brown pubic hair mixing with Victoria’s blonde curls. A shock of ecstasy shot through Victoria as her vagina met the woman’s and their juices mingled in an erotic sharing beyond belief. Whoever she was, this woman was no stranger to the sapphic arts of love.
Victoria felt her hips rising to meet the insistent push of her lover’s and surrendered to the waves of passion that washed over her. Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss, tongues chasing each other in and out, hands caressing full breasts and exploring wet vaginas.
“Yes,” the woman sighed as Victoria forced her onto her back and lowered her mouth her vagina. Victoria slowly licked the length of that tender slit, nibbling in the bud of the clitoris that peeked from between the lips. The woman writhed in ecstatic release and cried out strange words, her voice husky and gasping. The language was a strange, musical tongue that reminded Victoria of Gaelic, but it wasn’t quite the same. Her scent was intoxicating and Victoria felt her body pulled around so that her own vagina was above the woman’s face. A long, incredibly talented tongue flicked inside her and teased her clitoris with incredible skill. Victoria felt her body rising to a violent climax, working harder to make the woman come at the same time. As one they howled out in pleasure, pain and pure violent release, sweat pouring from the bodies, along with other juices.
Victoria collapsed on the altar, exhausted, yet satiated as she never had been before. She slept the sleep of the dead, dreaming of her mysterious lover and hoping that it hadn’t all been a dream.
She woke hours later, yet the moon was still overhead and the scene was the same as when she’d fallen asleep. The tall megalithic stones rose around her in their majesty, complete and pristine. Of her mysterious lover, there was no sign.
“You’re awake at last,” her voice said and Victoria turned to face the obelisk next to the altar stone.
She stood beyond it, outlined in moonlight, the toppled stones of the henge about her. She was dressed in Victoria’s clothes, the one’s she’d left at the camp and she smiled cruelly at Victoria.
“I knew one day one of my descendants would come and free me, I am glad it was you, you were an excellent lover. Unfortunately for me to be free, you will have to take my place, but I’m sure one day someone will come and free you, just as you freed me.”
“Who are you? Why are you doing this?” Victoria rushed forwards and bounced of the stone.
“My name is Morgana, Morgana Le Fey.” The woman saw the recognition of the name in Victoria’s eyes and smiled. “Yes, I am the half-sister of Arthur Pendragon, sorceress, half-Elf and soon to be ruler of this world. As to why, I have some debts to pay and for that, I needed to be free. Only one of my own blood could free me, one of direct descent from my own children. You have my blood in your veins and you have done what I needed, though I have to admit that I hadn’t expected you to be so comely and experienced in the arts of love.”
“What happens to me now?” Victoria asked, confused and just beginning to realise she was in trouble.
“You remain where you are, trapped in limbo,” Morgana said, running her hands over her thighs. “Able to see all that transpires, but unable to contact anyone, touch anyone, love anyone. Never ageing, unable to die, an eternal monument to the stupidity of letting your hormones overrule your head. Farewell, Victoria, I will miss you, for a while.”
Her laugh echoed around Victoria and she vanished from view, obviously intent on whatever plan she had in mind. Victoria screamed for her to come back, battered her hands on the stone and swore in ineffectual rage at the fate she had walked into…
Time passed and Victoria learned the constraints of her prison. She could not pass beyond the boundary of the outer ring of stones, but through the obelisk she could see what happened in the outer world. She just couldn’t make contact with anyone.
She watched as police searched the site for her, listened as they discussed her disappearance and put it down to the Druids and New Age Travellers, though they hadn’t discovered any trace of her in their camp either. Victoria felt despair overcoming her as she screamed at them to look at her, only to watch them walk away. She watched as visitors came to Stonehenge to admire the standing stones, though none of them saw her watching and listening to them.
Victoria tried to keep a count of the days that passed, estimating that almost a year had gone by since her imprisonment, when something changed in her prison. At first, she didn’t notice the change in the light, but as the greenish glow grew she became aware of something in the air, a sound like running water. She scanned the stones around her and saw that they were glowing with an aquamarine light, something that they had never done before.
“So, she is free at last,” a voice said, heralding the arrival of another woman.
The woman was small, barely five feet tall, dwarfed by Victoria’s height, though she seemed to be much taller because of the power she radiated. Black hair fell to her waist, gathered into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Blue eyes regarded Victoria intently, seeing past her flesh to the tortured soul inside. Her lips curved in a half-smile that dimpled her cheeks. Her body was slight, with small breasts and barely any curves at all. She wore a simple black catsuit of silk that hugged her body and enhanced the length of her legs and arms. She looked to be in her early twenties, yet her eyes seemed to hold the wisdom of ages.
“Well, Victoria Talbot, are you ready to leave this place and discuss how you’re going to put this right?” Her voice had a well-modulated tone, yet the wry amusement in it was hard to ignore.
“Who are you?” Victoria asked, afraid this might be another trick.
“My name is Nimue,” the woman said, “and I can help you, but you will have to pay a heavy price for my help. Alternatively, you can remain here, in this stone prison for the next two thousand years!”
“I’ll come with you,” Victoria said, hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision. Though she had to admit that two thousand years in this place, watching the world go by without her, would drive her insane. She could imagine what her parents had thought when she vanished, either that she’d run away or been kidnapped and killed. In many ways that had been the cruellest part of the last year, knowing that her parents had no idea that she missed them and loved them, dearly. Besides, she owed Morgana for what she’d done to her.
Nimue motioned Victoria to take her hand and then whispered words that teased at Victoria’s memory. They sounded oddly Celtic, yet the accent was just a little off. The glow of the stones increased, almost blinding Victoria, growing until all she could see was the light. Then it faded away to reveal a new place, a place that seemed so ordinary Victoria almost laughed.
The room was decorated in a modernistic style, with aquamarine walls and ceiling, a long couch, two comfortable chairs and a doorway that led into another room. On the walls were several prints, mostly landscapes, though they seemed odd to Victoria. It took several moments for her to realise that the pictures were moving, as if they were windows into the real world.
“Welcome to my home, Victoria Talbot,” Nimue said, then waved her hands and Victoria felt her body tingling.
Clothing formed bout her body, feeling a little strange after a year of total nakedness. The one-piece costume of deep blue that covered her torso, but left her arms and legs bare, felt good, and looked good she had to admit. It might resemble a swimsuit, but the material felt like soft leather on her skin.
“Now, Victoria, you and I have much to discuss and even more to do,” Nimue said, heading for the door and waving Victoria to follow. “Morgana has been busy and it has taken me a long time to figure out what happened. Your part in this was unsuspecting to begin with, but now you will have to make a decision as to your future and what you intend to do to stop your ancestress.”
“I don’t understand,” Victoria said, “what CAN I do?”
“That depends on you and what you’re prepared to do to stop Morgana.” Nimue passed through the door and Victoria followed, gasping as she saw what lay beyond.
The room looked like an ancient Roman bath, but what shimmered in the sunken bath was not water. The liquid, if that’s what it was, glowed with a blue light of its own and seemed to move with its own life. Victoria stared at it, realising that she could see no reflections in it. She could feel the power of the pool, drawing her forwards, yet she held back, her memory replaying the last time she gave into that kind of impulse.
“What is it?” she breathed part in wonder, part in fear.
“Magic,” Nimue said, “wild, Chaos magic, distilled and concentrated. Here you can gain the power you need to help you defeat Morgana, if you have the courage to bath in its power. Enter the pool with fear in your heart and it will destroy you, enter with trust and you will receive what you need.”
Victoria studied the pool, then turned to Nimue. “Why am I the one who has to stop her? What has she done?”
Nimue sighed and waved her hands over the pool. “Since her release, Morgana has gathered together a group of people, each one a descendant of one of the legendary Knight of the Round table. She has used her magic and the power of an ancient talisman to summon the spirits of the original knights, then twisted them into a dark, perverted version of the original knights, serving her whims and committing acts of evil.”
“Her first victim was Sir Galahad, the purest of the knights, his descendant was a young man who used his charms and intellect to help others. After Morgana had finished with him he was twisted into his worst nightmare.” An image appeared in the pool of a young man, dark haired, handsome and with the look of a kind, generous soul. As she watched the face changed, became a cruel, evil visage.
“Lancelot’s descendant fell next,” Nimue said and another face appeared. A man in his early thirties with blond hair and blue eyes which changed to a cold, calculating as she watched.
“Gawaine, the King’s first knight and best friend is perhaps the most tragic.” A lovely young woman’s face appeared in the pool. Brown curls crowned her head and soft, gentle brown eyes shone with youth. A lovely smile that showed a sweet, loving spirit in a face that was oddly compelling and alluring in one, with an innocence that tore at Victoria’s heart. The change made Victoria sick, as that sweet face became a hard, uncaring face that seemed to see everything in the perspective of how it would profit her. It was as if something wonderful and precious had been stolen from the world and Victoria wanted badly to hurt whoever had done it.
“All told, two dozen of Arthur’s knights have fallen to Morgana’s power, the others have no living descendants. Morgana has to be stopped and only one of her blood-line can hope to stand against her power and succeed.” Nimue looked at Victoria. “It’s up to you, only you can choose this path and if you do there will be no turning back. Arthur had to make this choice, knowing that doing so would eventually lead to his death. He was the greatest King England ever knew, he was also of your blood. Your future is not so bleak, but you will have to overcome many hardships and trials.”
Victoria could see what Nimue was doing, baiting her to make the choice, yet Victoria was scared. The face of Gawaine, the young woman corrupted by Morgana’s power, swam before Victoria’s eyes and she wondered just how she was to fight such power.
“I’m afraid,” Victoria said, “afraid I’m not up to this, that I’m not strong enough.”
“I know, but you will have to see beyond your fears and focus on what you truly want. Imagine the kind of world Morgana will fashion, given the choice? Can you live in such a world? Would you want to, even if she would allow you to live!”
Victoria stared into the pool, her mind a confusion of thoughts as she tried to decide what to do. Whether she had the courage to do what Nimue wanted her to? Once more, the face of the young girl that had become the twisted version of Gawaine intruded on her thoughts and Victoria knew she had to do something to save her. She meant to step forward, but, on a sudden impulse, she swan-dived headfirst into the pool, hoping it was deep enough.
Victoria gasped as she ‘surfaced’, the feeling of the chaos magic mingling with her flesh odd, yet pleasurable. She could sense power and purpose filling her, making her more than what she had been, more than any mortal could be. Her family had a secret, one she knew of, but hadn’t found any trace of in herself. They had the blood of changelings in their veins. It was this blood the chaos magic mixed with, changing her and remaking her for her task. It was as if the pool were flowing through her, changing her in ways she couldn’t conceive or understand. Her limbs seemed to gain in strength, her mind seemed to speed up, making the world around her slow down and she felt her skin becoming stronger, tougher. A feeling of ecstasy swept through her and she cried out as the wild magic mingled with her body to change her, make her more than she was. Victoria closed her eyes, revelling in the sensations flooding her body, she felt light as a feather. She opened her eyes and found herself hovering over the pool, looking down into the satisfied eyes of Nimue, Lady of the Lake.
“It is done,” Nimue said, “your quest and your new life begin now. To that end you must have a new look, I think.”
With a wave of her hand, Victoria’s costume changed. A Union Jack forming across her torso, red leather boots growing up her legs to her thighs, matching gloves growing up her arms to end just above the elbows and over her eyes a mask, also of red leather. Victoria looked down at her reflection in the pool of roiling magic and found she liked what she saw. The woman looking back at her was strong, capable and everything she always knew she could be. The mask added a mysterious look to her natural allure and beauty. As she looked at what she had become, she knew what she was, a heroine, a superheroine and a superheroine needed a name.
“I will be called Victory,” she said, “in remembrance of who I was and what I will achieve.”
Nimue’s smile was almost comical and Victoria, now Victory, laughed at her own pretentiousness. Her speech sounded pompous, but it reflected her feelings and she soared down to stand beside Nimue.
“So, what now?” Victory asked the sorceress.
“Now you learn who and what you are, what you can do and how you can use those abilities. Then stop Morgana.” Nimue was adamant in her words, though there was a look of respect in her eyes. “As Arthur bore Excalibur as a sword, now you bear that same power in a different form. In many ways you are Excalibur, though don’t let that worry you. You have the power and the intelligence to stop Morgana, but it will not be easy, nor will it be a quick victory. There will be many set backs and you will make mistakes. If you need me, call my name and I will help you, if I can. I cannot leave my home, but I can advise you and maybe ease the burden slightly when it seems to heavy.”
Victory nodded and looked back at the pool, wondering what would have happened if she’d not managed to conquer her fear. Once more, the face of ‘Gawaine’ swam into view and the woman now known as Victory wondered why she felt this young woman seemed so closely linked to her destiny?
“Go now, learn to use what you’ve been granted and find Morgana. Use your power well and wisely, yet remember that Iron is your nemesis, you cannot harm it, but it can harm you, just as it will harm Morgana. Above all, remember that you may be powerful, and immortal, but you can still die. Morgana is very powerful, can call on a magic the like of which has not been seen since the dark ages, but she also has to curb her desires and live in your world as one of you. Use your knowledge, your experience and be very careful.”
Nimue smiled, countering her stern warning. “Above all, remember that you are human and have human needs. Do not deny them when you find a kindred spirit. Everyone needs someone to share their life, though few find someone capable of truly understanding them. Trust your instincts, let them guide you and you will find that the right person will give you more strength than the pool ever could.”
Victoria was puzzled by these words, yet Nimue’s assurance that she might find someone like that made her feel that it was worth giving her future to stop Morgana. With a last look, Victory hurtled towards her destiny.
Nimue’s words echoed in Victory’s mind as Mongol forced himself into her and she gasped as her body shuddered in pleasure at the insistent thrusts of his hips. She wanted to resist, wanted to fight the rising pleasure she felt, but her body betrayed her and she screamed as her second orgasm ripped through her.
“Hey, boss, she’s really getting off on this,” one of the others said, grinning widely and Mongol grunted, as he withdrew.
Victory tried to move, but her body felt weak as a kitten.
“Nimue, help me, please?” Victory whispered, trying to hold herself together and she felt her mentor in her mind.
“Patience, Victoria, endure this humiliation. It will end soon and you will be free. I warned you that there would be set backs, but you may find that the end result is worth the suffering. Endure, Victory, in the end you will overcome this humiliation.” The words weren’t what Victory wanted to hear, but in her present predicament, she was helpless.
The three men pulled her off the table, one lying beneath her, another standing before her, his large erection aimed at her mouth and the third taking up a position behind her. As one they entered her, one in her vagina, one in her mouth and third up her ass. They pumped away, hands fondling her large, sensitive breasts, easing into a rhythm that spoke of practice and other victims. Victory wanted to scream, to beg them to stop, the pain was incredible, but her mind focussed on what Nimue had said. Survive, endure and then have her revenge.
The rape continued, the men changing places at times whilst Mongol watched his men pleasuring themselves with the heroine. He didn’t realise he had her power, until he ripped the door off the safe he’d stolen with his bare hands. Victory was beyond caring what he was doing this, her body reacting to the multiple rape in ways she found horrifying. As the men pumped their seed into her, she collapsed in a haze of spent passion and exhaustion, hating herself for liking the pain and pleasure they’d inflicted on her.
Ropes tied her arms behind her, her legs together and a gag was forced into her mouth.
“We’ll get back to you later,” one of the men said and Victory knew she had to escape before they regained their strength, if she wanted to live through this.
She watched as the men looked through their plunder, counting the cash and laughing over the fun they’d had. Mongol was worse, staring at her as he experimented with his new powers, unaware that soon they would fade and return to his captive. Victory lay still, hoping and praying that she would recover before they would.
One of the men stood up, opening his trousers and walked towards Victory. She could see lust and desire in his eyes, his erection showing he was ready to explore her body afresh. The others watched and chuckled, Mongol hovered and grinned as he saw Victory’s despairing look.
“Okay, babe, let’s really party,” the man said, forcing her knees apart and forcing a finger up her tight vagina.
Victory grunted, but the gag stopped her screams as he cruelly forced his hand inside her.
“I think the lady has had enough.” The voice was a reprieve and a surprise to everyone there.
In the doorway stood a young woman, brown curly hair, brown eyes and a pretty face. Her body was clad in a black leather catsuit, hugging her girlish, yet voluptuous figure. In her hand was what looked like a sword, except it seemed to extend from her hand and appeared to be made up of blue energy. In her eyes was a look of anger and outrage, her body was in a stance that told of an experienced fighter.
Mongol swooped towards her from above, but she side-stepped, swinging down and he screamed as the blade seemed to pass through him. He convulsed, his nerve-endings on fire as the sword scrambled his neurones, fried his motor control and left him quivering like a jelly.
“Next,” the girl said and stared at the men.
They looked at her, looked back at Victory and ran, all three of them. The girl laughed mockingly and walked over to the bound, helpless Victory.
“I should have left you to them,” she said, squatting next to the bound woman. “I should take you to Morgana, she’d show you a thing or two.” The woman slipped her energy sword between Victory’s legs and slashed the ropes. “I should do many things, but I think I prefer you free, it makes the chase more of a challenge.”
The girl reached down to caress one of Victory’s breasts, then slid down to her thighs, slipping a finger between the lips of her vagina. She withdrew the finger and licked it, savouring the flavour of the juices. Then she pulled the gag from Victory’s mouth.
“Why?” Victory asked and the girl smiled.
“If you have to ask the question?” she said in reply, then slashed the ropes around Victory’s arms.
“Gawaine, you don’t have to stay with her?” Victory said, standing up and rubbing her limbs.
“I do, for now, I owe her a lot.” Gawaine stepped back and looked Victory up and down. “I have a debt to pay and I pay them. You owe me a debt now, I’ll come collecting one day, so be ready.”
The girl who was Gawaine turned away, leaving Victory to tidy herself up, looking down at the limp form of Mongol. “Did you want this heap of shit?”
“Not particularly,” Victory said, calming herself and willing her uniform to repair itself. “Though I’ll have to take him in, I suppose.”
“Ah well,” Gawaine said, her eyes cold as she looked down at him. “Next time you take on a villain, be more careful, I might not be there to save that sexy arse of yours.”
Without another word, Gawaine left, leaving Victory to recover her powers and the loot from the bank. Then call the police…