By Dr. Dominator
Supergirl Captured by the Mob
Part 22 - A World of Hurt
By Dr. Dominator
Note: The Supergirl character and name as well as Wonder Woman and Diana Prince are the property of DC Comics. Tony Bonano and his crew as well as Sergei Zhukovia, Bruno Gemano and Scarlett O'Shea are properties of Dr. Dominator and cannot be used without permission. This story is simply meant as entertainment and should be read only by consenting adults of 18 years or older. Violence and rape are never an answer to any situation.
When Carmine rushes into Supergirl's suite in the penthouse of the Pleasure Dome building, he is alarmed to see nobody in sight. Then he remembers that last night Sergei and Stevie had cleaned up the place top to bottom. They had scrubbed the sea foam green carpet as much as they could, then rented a rug shampooing rig from a local hardware chain to finish the job. Now you couldn't tell that two guys had been whacked right here at all!
The Minetti brothers were politely escorted off the premises within two rolled and tied ten foot carpet remnants. Although Sergei was all for letting the two men spend their long, quiet futures in a Staten Island landfill, Tony had nixed the idea. He put them on ice, literally in a meat packing locker on the lower west side of manhattan until he talked to the Minetti's family and explained things. He planned to return the bodies to the family as a matter of honor.
Stevie and Sergei had also treated the beige leather sectional with a special stain remover. (Thankfully both the Minettis had fallen backwards away from the couch. These things cost seven grand each after all!) Of course, before all that, Supergirl had been carried back to the bedroom and placed on the bedspread. And she had barely moved a muscle since then. She was breathing, she had a pulse, but there were no other response whatsoever to repeated pinching, shouting and clapping.
Now, however, as Carmine rushes in to the bedroom, his view is momentarily blocked by Stevie who's looking down at the figure on the bed, his head shaking, hands on hips. When Carmine circles past Stevie he sees the beautiful blonde teenager curled up in a fetal position sucking her thumb.
"Oh shit," Carmine swears. "How long as she been like this?"
"I went to the bathroom about ten minutes ago. She was flat on her back at that time, same as the last 17 or so hours," Stevie says, somewhat defensively. "When I came back, I find her like this."
"Take it easy, Stevie. This ain't your problem. The girl wouldn't even be alive at all weren't for you, okay," Carmine pats his shoulder.
"Yeah, I know. Still I feel if I'd been a few seconds, I don't know, smarter, she'd be lighting up the room with that smile of hers. Not looking like some helpless premie in a hospital nursery."
"Don't beat yourself up, Stefano. You did your best. This girl's just been put through a world of hurt for the last week and a half. It's just been too much, I guess."
"You got any ideas, Carm?"
"Hmm. You know, I hate to bring in yet another person into this whole mess, but I'm thinking of a shrink friend of mine that could take a look at her and give us his thoughts on what's going on with her," Carmine says, nodding at the thumb-sucking teenage heroine.
"You not going Tony Soprano on me, are you, Carmine?"
"Fuck off, Stevie. He's not my shrink. I just know him from my golf club. We play in a foursome every so often out in Ridgewood. In Jersey.
"Good. I thought maybe we had a little 'Analyze This' goin' on. You know, that Bobby DeNiro flick?"
"Yeah, yeah. You're fuckin' Rodney Dangerfield. Now shut the fuck up while I think for a second. Maybe I ought to wait 'til Tony gets back before I call the guy. Tony's good at all the angles and this poor girl ain't goin' nowhere right now. Maybe if she were...."
The cell phone rings and Carmine checks the number and flips it open. "Yeah, Bruno. Talk to me."
"We're at the place with the doc. We got the wonderful lady on a table and he's checking her out. He's got a lot on his plate, three or four hours maybe on the table, but he thinks she'll pull through. She's a fighter, he says. She'll need to be, he also says. Lotta damage. Some possibly permanent. He ain't sure 'bout that though. The hip and the arm and the shoulder all look nasty. The thigh shot..."
"Bruno. Stop. This line ain't secure. Anything else critical I gotta know about?"
"Package two is restrained and out of commission," Bruno reports. "Our lady in red made sure of that. She's very efficient, very thorough and very...." Shhhhhhhiiiggggrizzzzttt! Static interrupts the end of the sentence.
"Say again, Bruno. I didn't get the last of that," Carmine asks.
Shrizzzttt. "..very happy. I'll report back in an hour or two. Doc says he'll have a better idea then of how it's all gonna shake out."
"Alright, Bruno. Good work. Talk to you then." He flips the cell phone closed and looks at Stevie. "Happy? Why the fuck is she happy. Unless it's the money she's thinking about?"
Stevie looks at him with eyebrows raised. "Who's happy?"
"Hmm. Well, two million would sure make me happy." Stevie looks at his watch: 2:25 p.m. "Sergei went out for lunch at the deli. He'll be back shortly. He said he'd pick you up a Roast Beef on Rye with cole slaw and pickle and a Dr. Brown Creme Soda. Same thing that he's having. "
"That guy may be Russian, but he sure eats like an American."
"You ever eat Russian food?" Stevie asks.
"You counting Vodka?"
"Then no," replies Carmine.
"The only good Russian food is their bread," Stevie states. "Great black bread like pumpernickel but heartier. A fucking meal in itself with butter. The rest of their diet is potatoes and bad beef. Forgettaboutit!"
In the van, on the way to the Secaucus hideout, with Wonder Woman's wounds tended, Scarlett O'Shea had been able to concentrate on her real assignment, the one for she'd been paid so handsomely to take out of the picture. Even now, driving to the airport in her red Miata, Scarlett's pussy gets wet as she relives the scene in the van on the way to the Secaucus warehouse.
The famous Man of Steel is handcuffed at his wrist and ankles. The wrists have been tied with a long coil of rope to the passenger chair in which Jerry sits half turned, checking out the two heroes in the van with amazement. The handcuffed ankles are secured by a different length of rope to the plastic rope holding the back doors closed. It is looped around that rope with a dozens turns to keep it secure if the big fella wakes up and starts to struggle. As long as the kryptonite slime works, he shouldn't be strong enough to break away, Scarlett believes.
"Supermain, honey, I am afraid you 'ah a two-bagger date now," she chuckles as she leans over to check Superman's fat, puffy black eyelids. All around his eyes are dark bruises from the nun-chuks breaking the bones there. They give him a raccoon-like appearance. His mouth is also a bloody mess from her attack with the nun-chuks. The lips are skewed slightly from a dislocated jaw he suffered from the jolting blow of the kryptonite-coated steel bar to his mouth.
"Darlin', you 'ah so ugly, before I fuck you I'll need one bag on your head and one bag on mine just 'case yo'ah's breaks," she jokes. Lifting up the badly swollen black lids, she sees no one at home just yet. That's good, it gives her time to set him up right. She puts two fingers against his neck to check his pulse, eyeing the nasty bruise at his adam's apple from the other shot she'd given him with the nun-chuks. His deep voice would be garbled and strained for a while, too, until that got fixed. She'd certainly had done a number on him. But then she had to be sure she took him out fast. And she had. Now she had to keep him out until they arrived at the place in Secaucus where she had placed her equipment in case she'd been needed. She has a plan for that.
Shifting her position, Scarlett turns around, faces Superman's body and straddles his legs so her inner thighs rest on Superman's outer thighs. Then she pulls down the front of Superman's red trunks and begins to give the Man of Steel a fast-action hand job. She strokes the shaft of the dark haired hero rapidly and draws a garbled groan from the sluggish form lying in the back of the van.
"Looks like the South is going to rise again," Scarlett grins. "Something from the South of Superman's waist, that is!"
"...uuhh...whurr...ya...dhoo...in....?" Superman moans past his broken teeth and skewed jaw. He pulls on the rope at his wrists but the deutronium-kryptonite slime sloshing in the crotch of his trunks makes him too weak to do anything but jangle the cuffs noisily. His feet he can't even move since her weight is pinning down his thighs.
Despite all his weakness and pain from the strength sapping gel in his shorts and the beating he's taken, Superman's penis begins to expand under Scarlett's rapid fist.
"...ghehh....offerrr...me...bwiitchh..." Superman complains in a loud mumble.
Scarlett grabs Superman by the dislocated jaw and jerks it hard.
"Yowww! Ugghhhhhnnn...." The mighty hero in the famous blue and red uniform grimaces in extreme pain from this harsh treatment. His eyes roll up in his head and he collapses in a moaning grunt back onto the floor of the van. As soon as this happens, Scarlett scoots her body backward so her ass is on Superman's calves and her mouth is over his groin. She continues to stroke the helpless hero's dick for another 15 seconds and then spits a large glob of saliva on his prick and smears it all around Superman's cock, which enlarges more and more under her constant stimulation despite his pain. By the time his full member is glossy with her spit, Superman's dick has grown to over 12 inches long. Scarlett smiles at the huge prize she has created in her hand. Then she goes down on his exposed penis with a lips spread wide open, taking in the huge shlong deeply within her mouth. Her head bobs up and down repeatedly as Superman moans in a combination of pain and sexual enjoyment.
"...this....ishh....wong...." he grunts and tries to raise himself up. Scarlett stops slathering the top half of his cock with her tongue for just a moment and grabs his balls in her palm, squeezing just a bit.
"Slow down thea'ah, tiger. Mistress Scarlett's in control and if you don't want me to put the final bullet into your pretty brunette friend's head who's lying right here next to you, near death, I'd let me take mah pleasure from you while you lie still, Superstud! Jerry, sugah, point your gun at Wonder Woman, please." Reluctantly, Jerry does as ordered, pulling a Glock.
"...wren...I...get...fwee...you will wish....UNHH....you neva... herrd...a me..." Superman growls, but lies still anyway.
"Whatever you say, sugah pie. Just keep growing this cock of yo'ah's so Scarlett can have her fun." Her palms tickle his balls and she goes back to sucking on his dick with gusto. Up and down, up and down her head bobs with hard, relentless purpose. Her face rises and falls on his full 13 inches of manhood. Superman grimaces in confused disgust and pleasure as Scarlett brings him to a throbbing stiffness. Then she takes a quick break. Reaching into her waist pouch, now that's Superman is maxed out in size, Scarlett pulls out a glowing green cock ring with bullet vibrators on two sides. She slips this over Superman's penis with a swift sliding motion and pushes it down to the base of his shaft. Then she turns it on with the quick click of a tiny switch.
"Ohh...huhhh..." Superman grunts with unexpected pleasure at this vibrating device stimulating the top side and bottom side of the low end of his penis.
"Feels good, doesn't it, Superstud?" Scarlett quickly undoes two snaps at the crotch of her red latex hotpants. With no panties on underneath, Scarlett O'Shea easily mounts the Man of Steel's long hard cock and slides herself down on it with a slow lecherous smile.
"That's the Supermain I've been dreamin' about," she says as she leans over and caresses his wide chest with her palms. The roaming hands wrinkle, distort and pull hard on Superman's diamond S logo but with a gun pointed at Diana's head, he resists fighting back even as he is raped by this grinding, wanton slut.
"Now give me a kiss and no biting, Superstud, or Wondie he'ah gets a nasty little hole put in pretty little cranium."
She crushes her lips against Superman's mouth and her tongue begins to twine slowly with his. In the meantime, her hips are bucking up and down with piston-like action as she revels in the full length of this man's mighty cock. The width and length of it are incredible and she rubs her red latex covered chest against his sweaty uniform now, succumbing to her passions even as his own excitement builds helplessly within him. She kisses him for a long twenty seconds, their tongues fighting and their breathing quickening.
Suddenly, pulling away from Superman's mouth, Scarlett sits up and reaches behind her back with both hands and unzips the red latex sports top containing her full size 38 breasts. She pulls the top down, freeing the fleshy orbs so they bounce enticingly in front of the disoriented Man of Steel. She gently presses her chest against his bruised face, burying his nose in her cleavage. The scent of her intoxicating perfume, her skin oils and the slight sheen of perspiration creates a heady swoon in the overwhelmed superhero. In the meantime, her vagina is tight and wet and in constant motion, creating a repetitive friction that clouds his brain with sensations he cannot control. With all this weakening kryptonite in his trunks and circling his dick, not to mention the vibrating nodules at the base of his cock, Superman is helpless to defend himself against Scarlett's relentless barrage of sexual domination.
"...urrrrrhhhh.....uhhhhhnnn....ohhhhhh....d...damn...you....bitch..." Superman growls loudly. It's garbled but still angry enough to be heard through his bruised mouth and her smothering breasts.
Scarlett takes her breasts away from Superman's face and looks down on him with gleeful confidence in her domination of this powerful hunk. She continues to pump her hips and caress his chest as she talks."Oooh, you like to talk dirty during sex, huh, lover? Well, how about this, Supermain. You supposed to be the biggest cock swinging on this he'ah planet but I took your ass down in just about a minute and a half - from first clobbering to final knockout."
"...s'prised me...d'hat's all..." Superman grunts.
"Not hah'd with someone who's all muscle and no brains, Supercock," Scarlett purrs in his ear and slows her pace down, her hips now slowly rocking as her vagina slides up and down Superman's engorged dick with a velvety motion that drives a pleasure spike directly into his brain. "And speakin' of muscles. How do you like having your love muscle sliding in and out of my hot... tight.. sweaty...soft... cunt?"
"Ohhhhhh..." Superman groans in undisguised delight at her warm tight pussy grips the full length of his stiff member.
"I mean, dahlin,' with all those thrilling sensations you'all are experiencing with my tight, wet pussy wrapped all around yo'ah huge man meat, you must feel kind of dirty and used, don't you, sugah?" The red latex clad dominatrix leans forward and whispers in Superman's ear and flicks her tongue in it with quick, flipping licks even as she grinds her pelvis against him so his cock is flooded with a whole new wave of frictional sensations.
"Hunnhhh...ohhhhh..." Superman moans in complete sexual duress. He can barely hold back the building wave of pressure mounting inside him.
"Why, I'd imagine since you cain't do nuthin' but cum on my command, dahlin', you feel pretty pathetic for someone who's supposed to be so powerful?" Scarlett offers more sensuous pelvic grinding creating much more building pressure within Superman who grimaces in frustration. "So just how super do you'all feel now, Supercock? A puny earth woman is taking your jism without yo'ah permission. You like that fuckin' rhyme. Superprick?" Scarlett's enjoying her domination as well as the vibrations of the glowing green cock ring against her labia as she nestles her groin against his.
"...to cum. Right now, Superdick. You're cumming in Miss Scarlet just the way she planned it." She squeezes his upper chest tightly and snuggles her snatch down even more tightly against Superman's groin as she accepts all 13" of his throbbing cock within her eager, clutching slowly pumping cunt.
Finally, helplessly overwhelmed by the sensations within him, Superman blows his wad, cumming like a fire hose within Scarlett's tight pussy.
The sensations within the beautiful red-headed hit woman of Superman's jetting prick throbbing and splurging within her takes the crazed woman over the edge and she cums with a shriek
"Yes....yes....YESSSSSSS!" She rocks her body up and down against Superman's helpless form, milking every drop of his cum with carnivorous delight.
"...OHHH...." He groans with a short second burst of helpless ecstacy as Scarlett O'Shea has her way with him. She bucks and twists her pelvis like a wildcat, draining every drop of the Man of Steel's semen and depleting his energy reserves in the process.
"....ohhhhhh..." he moans with a helpless flush of despair as he feels his dick begin to shrink. This bitch had actually raped him and he couldn't help himself from reaching an orgasm. He did feel dirty and used, just as she'd said.
"We're here," Bruno says, as he gets word from the driver of the Piggly Wiggly hauler through an ear phone he'd gotten during the tunnel switch.
"Perfect timing, Superstud," Scarlett say, pulling herself off Superman's quickly shrinking dick and snapping her crotch closed. "Thanks for keeping us troops entertained, big fella. That little camera in the corner ovah the'ah should have gotten some very nice angles of us bumping uglies, Sugah. It'll be on YouTube before you can say, Fucked by kryptonite again!"
Then without warning, Scarlett's fist comes around from behind her back and slams into Superman's jaw. His head snaps back in a blinding flash of white hot pain and his body sags to the floor of the van unconscious and completely drained.
"Why are the pretty ones always so dumb," Scarlett says putting her sports top back on and zipping it up.
Bruno and Jerry are silent partners for the moment, stunned by what they've witnessed. Superman had been made to look like a totally incompetent dork. Helpless to fight, unwilling to defend himself and then groaning and cumming against his will, the two men couldn't believe it could be done. But the woman who'd done it was now quietly kneeling by the body of Wonder Woman's carefully timing her pulse.
"Slow but steady," Scarlet says, all business now. After that she undoes the rope leading from Superman's ankle cuffs to the back doors.
One minute later, the doors of the van are quickly opened by the tractor trailer driver and Scarlett climbs out first, looking around, getting her bearings. It is a large, clean warehouse. She sees the rectangular tank she'd prepared yesterday and tells Jerry and the two truck drivers to bring Superman's body over to the tank immediately. They undo the ropes tying the handcuffs to the front seat of the van and heave Superman's body out of the vehicle. With much effort and grunting, they carry the heavy figure over to a large, low rectangular steel tank filled with liquid kryptonite slime. It's only two and a half feet high. Gently lowering him in under Scarlett's careful watch, the men finally let go and Superman's body slips down to the lowest point in the tank. His entire torso is submerged into the glowing green liquid with only his arms and legs hanging over the side of the tank. Each limb is carefully secured to ring bolts sunk into the floor. Adamantium manacles with short chains of the same material do the job nicely. Frankly, with the amount of deadly kryptonite now surrounding the Man of Steel's body, the metal cuffs could be cotton rope and he wouldn't be able to escape this deadly tub.
The memory of her domination of Superman would give Scarlett a lifetime of sexual fantasies to pleasure herself with. And she had now had to money to do nothing more than that if she wanted to. She laughs with girlish delight as the wind flows through her hair with the top down on her convertible Miata. It's just one of the pleasures this huge payday has brought to her. She guns the accelerator and hits 85 on the way to JFK and her vacation in Spain.
With Superman secured in the tub, Bruno takes charge again and directs Jerry and the drivers to take Wonder Woman through a set of stainless steel double doors into a small waiting area outside a makeshift operating room that had been set up. Doctor Gyldenhall, a trusted surgeon that Tony Bonano had under his thumb, would be working on her. The sandy haired, middle-aged man in surgical green scrubs instructs the men to place the unconscious woman on the waiting gurney. He has two nurses with him.
"Thank you, gentlemen. I'll take it from here. This woman needs my attention immediately. I will come out with progress reports as soon as I can. Or I'll send one of my nurses. It'll take an hour or two before I can confirm her status with any certainty. Now go, I have to get her into a sterile environment and start operating immediately."
"Sure, doc," says Bruno. It's six bullets, eight bb lead shots and the tranquilizer dart.
"I'm capable of finding my way around a human body, sir. Leave or suffer the consequences if this woman dies!"
Without another word, Bruno spins on his heels, motions to the rest of the men and they all leave the waiting area, going back to the huge warehouse section. Surprisingly, Scarlett O'Shea has already left. Her bright red Mazda Miata with its "Killer" vanity plates is no longer parked in the corner space where she'd left it this morning.
"I'd better check in with Carmine," Bruno says, flipping open his cell phone to make his report.
After he tells Carmine about Scarlett's efficiency and, in a word, her happy ending, Bruno clicks off.
"Well, we're on our own for a while. I guess we better keep an eye on the big guy soakin' in the tub over there and give Carmine reports when we get them. Anybody up for a game of poker?"
Bruno pulls out a deck of cards from his white sweatshirt pocket and thinks he can win a couple of grand off these guys in the next few hours. Hell, they all had money to spare after the payment Carmine would be bringing to Bruno's place at 8 o'clock tonight. But a few extra bucks from these bozos wouldn't hurt. Jerry and three truck drivers agree to the game. The fourth driver begs off and heads out. Pulling a card table and chairs into the center of the space where they could keep a close eye on the unconscious Superman soaking in the kryptonite slime tub, the men begin to play poker.
By 4:30 that afternoon, Tony Bonano is standing in the bedroom with Carmine, Sergei and Stevie looking anxiously at the silent, thumb sucking Maid of Steel. Wearing her fake uniform and curled up in a fetal position, her underpants are clearly exposed. After twenty hours, even as Stevie had looked on in shock only half an hour ago, the inert, stupefied Maid of Steel had suddenly wet herself. The blooming yellow stain took him completely by surprise, but what the hell could he do. When it was over, the entire crotch and half the seat of Supergirl's famous red silken panties were damp with urine and there was a wide wet spot on the comforter under her hips. Fortunately she hadn't emptied her bowels. Yet.
Sergei had removed her cheap boots earlier and her toes and feet were even clenched into small sad appendages of lost hope. A wet spot of drool stains the comforter under her mouth as she works her thumb non-stop with her sucking cheeks.
"Alright, Carmine. Tell me about your shrink. What's his name?"
"First of all, Ton. He ain't my shrink, okay? I play golf with the guy. I don't talk family business. I don't unload my troubles. I talk golf handicaps and sports and the ponies, which he likes. I'm a businessman to him, plain and simple. 'Course, that will change the second he see's the patient I bring him. His name's George Cosmopolis. He's successful, very discreet and he's into me for forty grand between the golf and the ponies. I can squeeze him a bit."
"Will he talk to the cops if they start to squeeze?"
"He'll have doctor-client privilege to lean back on for a while. He'll play that card. I'll have to watch him and bug his phone if they play him hard. But that's only if they find out about him workin' with her, and we can control that."
"Right. Bring him in. But we've got to change her clothes. Make her look different and try to use a cover story if we can. If he doesn't see the costume, he may not make the connection."
"Jeez, why didn't I think of that. Of course, but wait, what if he needs to know who she is to, like, snap her out of this?" Carmine waves his hand at the catatonic blonde heroine making loud sucking noises on the bed.
"We'll deal with that if and when it comes up. Call him, get him in here quick. I've got to play some sort of holding game here. The meeting with the families went real well by the way. Just like I figured. We're running two full families now Carmine."
"Hey, that's great news, Tony!" Carmine is delighted for Tony and for himself.
"Good goin', boss," cheers Stevie, thinking his star was rising with Tony's.
"Many congratulations, Tony Bonano," says Sergei, pleased to have gotten on this express elevator ride while it was still on the lower floors.
"The thing is, gentlemen, this is all predicated on keeping Supergirl a working and subservient whore. Not a vegetable like this. If word got out about her condition, it would generate outrage and an unholy backlash. We have to keep the public thinking that she's been captured but could escape somehow. Keep them off balance and hopeful. I've thought about this since Carmine phone me about her condition and I want to use her attempted escape video. The one where she knocks the crap out of me. We'll digitally obscure my face and alter anything that might identify me. We edit it so it ends where she's standing over me. We do a voice-over saying we were able to restrain her after all but if there are any attempts at rescue, we take her out. That ought to cool their jets while giving them something to root for."
"Nice," Carmine nods.
"What's more," Tony continues, "We release a small, grained up version for the media and a full-fledged, full-color beauty, still somewhat edited but X-rated version in DVD format through our regular underground supply chain. We need the cash infusion anyway after paying Bruno and Scarlett. Hey, I meant to tell you that was brilliant work at Bryant Park, Carmine," he rubs Carmine's shoulder. "Your troops were phenomenal! The van drivers that got arrested, what's with them?"
"Not arraigned yet. Depends somewhat on the news about what happens with Wonder Woman and Superman. It could go from a traffic violation to kidnaping to murder, depending on what happens with them."
"Yeah, well, Wonder Woman will take a while to settle out. How she doing?"
"Latest report is she's out of the woods. Critical condition but hopeful. You know that doctor crap they all spout. Should pull through but no guarantees. There will be some scarring he thinks. He's amazed at her recuperative powers. Oh, that was an interesting point. He said he started to remove her outfit for the surgery after hooking her up to the all his readout machines, you know. He takes off that belt she wears and suddenly she started having what he called 'severe distress' that scared the shit out of him. Her blood pressure drops like a rock and her heart starts goin' a mile a minute. He's telling me he's afraid he's gonna lose her. Not knowing what to do, he places the belt back over her waist and the machines quiet down and her breathing goes back to normal. Everybody stops sweating and he operates on her with her clothes on and everything. Operation's all over. All bullets and bb's removed. Actually said the tranquilizer dart may have helped save her life. Slowed down her metabolism under stress so the blood loss wasn't fatal when it could have been. He put three pints back into her."
"What are we paying Gyldenhall?"
"Double it. It'll keep him quiet and he's more than earned it. Besides, I think Wonder Woman may be earning that back for us and much, much more than that in the near future. If we can work our magic on her like we did with Supergirl, we'll have two beautiful superheroines in our stable of whores. And who wouldn't want to stick their cocks into every single hole that stuck up feminist's has, to teach her what a real man's all about, eh? Think that little marketing plan wouldn't pull in millions for us?"
"God, Tony," says Stevie. "You think we can really turn her like Supergirl?!"
"Yeah, I believe it can be done. But it will take something stronger since I'd have to believe her will power is stronger than Supergirl's, being older, more resolute and coming from a long tradition of royalty. I'm thinking heroin plus automated fucking machines to keep her pussy busy. Very powerful machines to keep her preoccupied and confused. Plus aphrodisiacs. Everything full force to keep her off balance. Anyway that's the way I see it," the Mafia boss declares. "But as for Superman, I'm throwing him back to the public. He's too much to handle and he's already been humiliated pretty good by Scarlett. When we release him, we'll do it in a way that's even more humiliating. I'm working that out just yet. We make a statement that anybody who tries to take us on gets the treatment we gave the famous Man of Steel. See if that doesn't cool their jets for a month or so."
"Sounds good to me, Tony. Sounds real solid," Carmine agrees. "And hopefully, Supergirl here comes back to earth soon and things get back to somewhat normal."
"Amen to that, Brother Carmine," Tony responds. "Amen to that. Call Cosmopolis and try to get him over here tonight if you can. Say 8 o'clock?"
"Can't do it at 8, Ton. I'm giving Bruno and his guys their cut at 8 at Bruno's place."
"Can Stevie give them their split? Will Bruno get nervous? You think he'll make Stevie as some kind of hit man to cover up loose ends?"
"Possible. I could call him with a heads up. Take the edge off the situation."
"Stevie, you okay with this?" Tony looks at his young associate.
"Sure, Ton. How much cash am I bringing him?"
"Two million," Carmine answers.
"Sure hope I don't get mugged on the way. Where's he live?"
"Clifton. Nice little house in the Allwood section," Carmine relates. "About 15 minutes west from the warehouse in Secaucus. Off a' Route 3. I'll give you the address. Take my limo, the Lincoln. In fact, take my driver, Roget. You can Mapquest it and give Roget the printout."
"I fuckin' hate Mapquest," Stevie sneers. "They're always fuckin' up one critical thing in their directions. A left instead of a right. A left turn where it says 'No left turns allowed," or wrong road names. It's always something. Like go two miles til there are no fuckin' signs anywhere, then roll down the window and ask some wino where the fuck you are!"
Tony, Carmine and Sergei all laugh at Stevie's rant. Then Tony says, "Okay, Carmine, call your...sorry, call TheShrink. Let me know what he says. Well, gentlemen, how about a little celebration while we have a quiet couple of hours. My treat. They've got a Tortellini Alfredo special downstairs that I've been waiting for all day."
"Count me in," says Carmine, ringing up Cosmopolis from his speed dial list on the cell phone.
"Me as well," Sergei says.
"I'm in, too," Stevie agrees.
Tony looks over at Supergirl a final time before they leave the room. "How about you, Linda," he shouts. "Wouldn't you like to come out of your shell and have a nice plate of Tortellini Alfredo?"
Carmine gets through to the psychiatrist after a few moments. "Hey, George. Hi, yeah, it's Carmine. Not as much lately. My handicap is up. You're gonna be able to take me for some serious money next time we're on the links. Yeah, we'll see about that. Hey, George, I've got a girl who works for me who has gone, I don't know, catatonic on me, I guess you'd say. Something about a rape last night, she mentioned. Then this morning, she doesn't show up for work so they send someone out to see how she is and she's sitting in a chair and sucking her thumb. No, no response. Yeah, they tried that. That too. I brought her to a place here in the Bronx. I know it's a lot to ask, but can you take a look at her for me. I'd owe you big time. Well, she's been like this for at least a few hours now. What? Yeah, but tonight would be better. It would be a big favor to me George. You're the only guy I can trust on this. You know, to try to keep the rape thing quiet. The poor girl doesn't need that screwing up the rest of her life, right? Well, it could at that. You never know. What? You will? Say that's great George. I'm in your debt. Yeah, I'll see you at 8. I'll send you directions by email. From where you are in Jersey, it's pretty much a straight shot over the GW Bridge and up to the South Bronx. No, we'll park your car in our lot. It'll be fine. Yeah, thanks George. See ya." He closes the cell phone with a click. "Done."
"Great. Let's see what he says," Tony nods at the teen. "She sure is out of it."
The catatonic young teen simply sucks her thumb with a steady, neediness that almost breaks Tony's heart. He walks over by the bedside and puts his hand on her wrist as the three other men look on. Slowly he pulls the thumb out of her mouth and looks into her baby blue eyes. She doesn't even look at him, shifting her eyes away and frowning. She simply tries to pull her thumb back to her mouth.
"Guess I put you through the wringer, huh, Linda?" He turns her head toward his with a firm hand on her chin, trying again to establish contact. When she does look at him, it's like she's looking through him to the opposite wall. Wherever this girl's mind was, it wasn't in this room.
"Stevie," he says shaking his head. "Can you put a plastic sheet or something under her. Change her out of this dirty outfit and have it cleaned. There's pajamas in the dresser. She shouldn't give you any trouble."
"Sure thing, Ton. I'll do it now and meet you guys down in the restaurant."
"Thanks, Stevie. You've been great at all this. Carmine told me how you recognized the hit, you and Sergei. You're both on this team wherever it goes, I want you to know that."
"I know, Tony. Thanks," Stevie nods.
"Thank you, Tony," Sergei says as well. "We wish we had been faster. But such is life, da?"
"Da." Tony looks at Supergirl then turns and leaves the room. Sergei and Carmine follow as Stevie heads for the dresser.
At 6:10 p.m., Bruno checks his watch. He's already taken the three truck drivers for three grand apiece in seven card stud. No cheating even! His cards had been that good. And he'd played them like fish on a line for about three and a half hours, with the only breaks coming from visits by the doctor or the nurses with status reports about Wonder Woman's condition. The news was getting better and better with every visit. The girl wouldn't die. She might have to undergo rehabilitation for her arm and hip injury. Like he gave a fuck about her rehabilitation! The shoulders and thigh were surprisingly clean entry wounds and no exit wounds. He'd planned on that, of course, choosing the ammo carefully to inflict minimum damage while still getting the job done. In less than two hours, he was going to be a rich man. The lion share of the split was going to be his. He was going to have to give his seven shooters 150 grand each which would have left him with a little over a million bucks. But five of his shooters had been caught by Superman who handed them over to the cops. That just left Jerry and the redhead 22-year old Danny he'd have to split with tonight. He'd put the other shares in short term money market accounts and see what the justice system did to the remaining shooters before he had to give them their splits. If he had to at all. He'd talk to Carmine about that. In fact, he had to call Carmine now anyway. He had to head home to meet Carmine for the cash handoff and he wanted to ask what the hell to do with the badly beaten green-faced Superman moaning in the glowing tub of krypto-slime. He did not look good.
He takes the phone out of his pocket and flips it open when it rings by itself. It's Carmine. Fancy that.
"Hey," he answers brightly, standing up and walking away from the table for a moment, "I was just going to call you. Yeah, things are wrapping up around here. The doc's finally gone and Wonder Woman is sleeping in the recovery area. Doc says she'll be out for another 12 hours easy. The nurse is staying with her for now. She expects you here early before she wakes up to take possession of her. He's got her on a Valium drip or some other such shit. I was just about to head out for our meeting and...What? Who? How's he connected. Alright, Carmine, don't get hot. No, I'm not. I'm just askin' is all. No, it's fine, I understand. Things come up. We're good though, right? You happy with the results? Great. No, glad to hear that. Yeah, it means a lot. How you want me to handle the split for the guys the cops snatched? No, they're gonna do hard time for sure. The guys in the truck are yours, right? They weren't part of our deal. Carmine, don't get hot. I'm just double checking." Bruno is pacing the warehouse area, a bundle of nervous energy. Jerry watches him with surprise. Bruno hadn't been this agitated during the hit in Bryant Park.
"Fine, we're cool on that. Yeah, so what's he look like, this Stevie? Uh huh. Yeah. Okay. No sweat. So, what the hell am I supposed to do about the big fella here? Superman. The guy in the tank! No, she left after we dropped him in. No, nothing. We carried in the Wonder bitch to the doctor's area and when we came out she was gone. No, I'm telling you she didn't say nothin'. Just left. She sure had a smile on her face when we dropped him in the tank though. Plus the other thing. That I told you about before. Yeah, happy. You didn't get me? She fucked him. Yeah, Superman, who the hell else are we talkin' about. Yes, I'm serious. She rode him like a fucking rodeo star. Fireworks and everything on both sides based on the stains I saw in the van. What the fuck do I care? It kept him busy til we chucked him in this slime bucket he's in. Yes, shackled with the full set of manacles. But I got to tell you, Carmine, he's pretty green and he ain't breathing right. Well, he's moanin', he's wheezing every so often and his face is pretty greenish. No, I wouldn't say bright. Not yet. How the fuck do I know if she's comin' back? I gotta leave here in ten minutes to get home for your friend Stevie and my money. Huh? Yeah, I'll wait."
Bruno looks at Jerry and the drivers. "Can you believe this shit? Carmine says the lady in red was supposed to stay and handle Superstud here.. How do you not account for Superman in your plans? Carmine's about to blow a gasket. Guess the communication between him and Scarlett was a little fuzzy about the final details about what to do with...Yeah, I'm here, Carm." Bruno begins to pace the warehouse again. "Uh huh. Well, I'd doubt that. DO WHAT? You ain't serious? How long? Completely out? What if he starts getting his powers back. I mean, I'm on the fucking front line here, Carmine. This wasn't what we talked about. I don't know shit about this slime stuff or him or anything like that."
Putting his hand on the phone, he says to Jerry, "This is incredible? He wants us to handle Superman! Un-fuckin'-believable!"
"Shit, fuck, crap, damn it to hell, motherfucking, cuntlicking, pricks!" Jerry responds.
After Jerry's tirade, Bruno takes his hand off the phone, he listens for a moment and starts talking again. "Well, can't you reach her? For how long? Did you pay her already? Beforehand? Really? Whether or not Superman showed, she got paid? Wow! She's got Superman's balls in a sling plus a pair of her own! Swiss account, huh. Internet transfer, codes and all. Yeah, well she's gone. I'd renegotiate her ass with a baseball bat up her twat if I were you, but that's just me talkin.' She'd probably get off on it anyway. She took all Superman had to offer and he's got a pole you wouldn't believe. No, they're still here, too. We were playing poker while the girl was on the table all this time. Yeah, I can do it. But Carmine, it's going to cost you more. What do you think it's worth to baby sit him for 12 hours? Uh uh. Not even in the ballpark. Double it. It's certainly not unfair. Things go wrong here, and he gets his strength back and everybody ends up with nothing. Or if he dies, the heat comes down. Don't think I don't know that? I get paid for risks, Carmine. I'm willing to take 'em but I get paid for 'em. Alright, I can live with that number. Yes, we'll stay. Send Stevie here instead of my house. He does? Well, that's something. At least he's got an inkling of what it takes to control these superhero types. Well, if he comes right away and we don't have to stay 12 hours I'll cut my rate, sure. Just two hours? You're that confident this Stevie can handle that? Well, it's not just that factor, Carmine. The guy's heavy. Took three of us huffing and puffing to get him in the fucking tank in the first place. A winch? I don't...yeah, I'm looking at one hanging from the ceiling right now. Yeah, I see them too, chains, coiled up in the corner. Hey, it's your call. Well, for two hours, I'll do it for that. Yeah, I get it. I take him out and let him lie on the ground for 20 minutes and then put him back in. You sure about the 20 minutes? Dead sure? Swear on your fuckin' mother's grave sure, Carmine? Cause bad estimates get people killed. No, I won't wipe him off. If that's what Stevie says I won't wipe him down. His breathing, right. I got you. He goes back to white skin, his breathing clears up, it's back in the tank. Before he's white? Sea foam green? What the fuck is sea foam green? Like a pea? A string bean? Broccoli? What do you mean wrong direction? Hint of green, right. Clover leaf in the sunlight. You're a fuckin' poet, Carmine, with these color descriptions. I GET IT! Very pale green back in the tub. Just make sure he gets here with the money by 8. Fine 8:30. About two hours from now. Right. Is he going to have the extra cash with him when he comes? Great. We'll watch for him. Yes, we're taking him out as soon as I hang up. I promise, Carmine. You want to break my balls or you want me to take him out of the tub, it's your call. Thank you. Yes. Talk to you later tonight."
Looking at Jerry, Bruno shakes his head. "Guy acts like a fuckin' Italian grandma, sometimes, I swear! Alright guys, let's lift this sack of shit out of the tub and lay him on the floor face up so we can watch his face turn the color of clover in the sunlight. Fuckin' Carmine."
They gather around the Man of Steel and Bruno unlocks the manacles with the special key. Then, with a huge heave, the five guys pull him up and out of the steel tank. Being heavy and a very slippery for the two drivers holding his waist, the group drops the heavy load onto the concrete floor with a loud wet slap and hard thump.
"UNNGHH," a grunt bursts from the Man of Steel and every man surrounding him takes a step back. But after seeing Superman lying face-up on the floor for a full minute without moving a muscle, they stop looking down at him and at each other instead.
"What do you think," Jerry asks, "another couple of hands before this Stevie gets here?"
The men nod and sit back down at the table, each man glancing over repeatedly to check for himself if the color of Superman's face approximates the color of a cloverleaf in the sunlight.
End of Chapter 22
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