Supergirl Captured by the Mob Part 67b  

By Dr. Dominator

Supergirl Captured by the Mob

Part 67B - An Imaginary Incident: The Girls Meet The Street - Part Two

By Dr. Dominator

IMPORTANT NOTE: This chapter was written at the suggestion of a loyal reader. It is an imaginary interlude and is not meant to be seen as a part of the current story or plot line, although it's designed to seem like it would. But Tony Bonano would never actually take the chance of letting both women out of his sight together in public. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this imaginary sequence.

The Supergirl character and name as well as Superman, Wonder Woman and Diana Prince are the property of DC Comics. Tony Bonano and his crew as well as Sergei Zhukovia and Don Lupenzo 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.

The day is only one hour new. It's just a bit after 1:00 a.m. and the moonlight through the wind-blown clouds is bright when it's not being obscured. Lying on the cold pavement on this breezy autumn evening, the fallen bodies of Wonder Woman and Supergirl stir uneasily. Full consciousness is an evasive butterfly as the pain of their beating and being dragged through the streets and alleyway works against them.

"....ohhhhhhh..." The mighty Amazon warrior groans dully as her stomach spasms slowly depart after the nasty punch delivered mere moments ago. A vile puddle of her own puke mere inches from her nose wrinkles her pretty features with disgust. She rolls away from it onto her back and opens her eyes wider to the night sky, wheezing shrilly.

The face of the black demoness whore Desiree suddenly slides into view overhead. Her wide nostrils flare and her large teeth, white as chalk tips, seem to shimmer as her smile takes up half her face.

"Little tummy ache there, princess?"

I've fought super villains, a raging Minotaur, violent mob hit men, even Mars himself, and this bitch takes me out with a stupid set of brass knuckles. Diana, you're not the girl you used to be! Just need a moment to catch my breath and I'll show this lowlife the vengeance of an Amazon warrior!

The best laid plans and all that. Diana's respite is much too short to recover as a new stabbing kick in the sides from Desiree's shoe lights up her kidney with pain and jerks Diana's body with a sickening thud.

"...aaghhh!" Wonder Woman yelps in pain, her eyes wide with it even as she sees a small black fist with brass highlights rocket down at her from the left. Too numb to react quickly enough, Diana's cheek snaps sideways and splits open slightly from the force of the blow as the warrior maiden is stunned into a blurred stupor from the violence unleashed by the glowering whore towering over her. The form bends down, grabs Wonder Woman by the gold fabric of her tunic and yanks her upper torso up from the pavement. With her cheek bleeding, her eyes dulled by the stunning blow and her limp arms hanging uselessly to the side, the raven-haired beauty is a sitting duck for the brass knuckles that come hurtling into her left breast. The harsh metal curves drive into the doughy tissue with a punishing force that pulls a tormented scream from the defenseless heroine.


Before the wobbling tit can even still to a painful stop, a second blow to the other boob buries into the fleshy roundness causing a second scream and more debilitating pain. Diana's body is dropped to the pavement and the Amazon's body turns onto her belly in an almost autonomic defense maneuver. Diana's hands clutch at her breasts beneath her to try to assuage the pain. Her eyes wince with tears as she groans in pathetic helplessness.

"...oohhhhhh...." Diana holds her breasts, trying to manage the pain there, her mind dizzy with it. All thoughts of fighting back are pushed aside with the brutality of the attack.

"STOP IT!" Supergirl screams out from her reclining position. Propped up only on her forearms and elbows, they shake noticeably as her sluggish brain finally processes the noise and visual input in the alley into the information that her friend is in danger. "You'll kill her!"

"No. But she'll wish I did," snaps back Desiree as she lifts her foot and stomps it down on the back of Wonder Woman's head. The battering ram of her sole knocks Diana's forehead against the pavement rendering the already weakened heroine completely helpless and dazed.

"Chloe and Sharla, don't waste her, but haul that blonde bitch up and teach her a lesson about cruising on our turf that she won't ever forget." Desiree then motions to other two. "Trixie and Glenda, come here and help me show Wonder Cunt here some other nasty things that can happen to someone who tries to fuck with my crew."

"No!" Kara pleads. "Don't do this. We'll leave and won't come...GHUNFFF!" Supergirl gasps loudly as the punch to her gut while she's hoisted off the pavement reduces her to wheezing limpness. With Chloe and Sharla now holding on to Supergirl's arms on either side of her, the blonde teen champion sags weakly between the two short women. The slightly taller heroine's knees sag forward, the insteps of her boots scrape against the ground and her head hangs low and her breasts rise and fall in a desperate attempt to fill her lungs with air.

"Oh, you'll leave alright, blondie," Sharla growls with low menace, "but not before you get a good old-fashioned ass-whoopin,' bitch!"

Chloe looks at Sharla over the top of the nodding blonde's head and mouths the word "Tits" to her companion. The nasty young whore nods evilly back with a malicious smile and rears back with her elbow. They count off together silently: 3...2...1. and then both of the black whores let the Maid of Steel have it, driving their fists into Kara's chest from opposite sides. The soft breasts implode together into one thin, deeply-clefted roll of flesh. The eye-popping agony of this double pounding of her tits pulls a shrieking scream out of Supergirl's gaping mouth. Held firmly in place by both her arms the battered blonde teen can do nothing but hang between her assailants and weep and moan pitifully.

"Owww....ugghnnn.....dear hurts...." Copious tears run from her eyes and clear snot hangs out of her nose as Supergirl cries miserably. Her cape drapes over her back and outlines the curves of her ass as she dangles in torment, her knees quivering and her head shaking back and forth as the blonde teen struggles to regain her composure. A few racking sobs reveal her inability to restrain her emotions or control her pain. The kryptonite collar has eliminated Supergirl's ability to withstand such harsh punishment to her body.

Part 5

"You hear that?" Desiree coos into Diana's ear as she and Glenda and Trixie pull the semi-conscious Amazon to her feet and prop her against the alley wall. Desiree's forearm pushes against Wonder Woman's throat while Glenda and Trixie pin her outstretched arms to the cool brick with a click of her cheap tin bracelets. The grinning whore eases the brass knuckles off her hand even as the forearm continues to strain against Diana's throat. She nonchalantly slips the weapon into the pocket of her rabbit fur jacket before continuing her taunt. "You're friend ain't doing so well over there. She don't have half the gumption you got. Hope she can make it through our little lesson wit'out gettin' brain damage."

"...leave.....lone..." is all a groggy Wonder Woman can manage to weakly rasp out. The pressure on her throat is fierce and unrelenting.

"I'd worry 'bout yourself, sista'. You got issues of your own to tend with."

Desiree's sudden crunching knee to Diana's crotch proves the point instantly.


Wonder Woman's head snaps hard against unyielding brick and only Glenda's and Trixie's practiced grip on her elbows and wrists keep the tormented heroine from collapsing to the street in retching distress. They've done this work before.

"AAULLGKK...OHHH....NNUHHHH...UUUUHH..." The once mighty champion of Themyscira dry heaves with wracking body jerks, her head bobbing up and down against her chest as the blow to her privates floods her with nausea. The follow-up blow from the tall black whore's knee to Diana's groin is no less brutal than the first and the two girls at her sides can barely keep her upright as her body jerks hard and then sags with dead weight in their hold. As it is, Wonder Woman sprays a cone of spit, snot and bile onto her own chest with a small measure of it spewing onto Desiree's white tube top.

Disgusted and angry at the sudden stain on her night's outfit, the whore leader grabs a handful of dark hair and snaps an upper cut on the grimacing Amazon's chin followed by a right cross to her left cheek.


"Don't take this wrong, ladies, but there ain't nuthin' I like more than wailing on an uppity white bitch who don't know her place." Desiree chuckles low in her throat but her two white compatriots take no offense at the remark. They've heard it before when pounding other whores who've strayed onto their turf. It's part of the routine by now.

Wonder Woman hangs senseless in the arms of the tall white whores as Desiree gloats at the scene before her. This fat-ass cunt is done. She sags in the two girls' grip, her head on her chest, blood and snot drip off her cheek and out of her nose. The tops of her white breasts bulge from out of the red and gold bustier, splattered with spit and bright red drops. The blue panties with their white stars are wrinkled and slightly displaced from Desiree's battering. The crotch shows an awkward hint of skin. Both knees of the barely conscious woman touch together while her ankles splay out to the sides. Barely audible moans weave through the quiet air from the beaten figure.

"Throw this stupid bitch in the trash, girls," the whore sniffs haughtily, nodding at the collection of steel garbage cans lined against the wall fifteen feet away.

Taking a running start, Glenda and Trixie drag the limp body of Wonder Woman along the littered tarmac and stones in a rush, then hurl her hard enough so the bright red boots gain air for a few feet before the flailing body lands in the line-up of steel cans with a crashing din. Three of the five cans tip over spilling their contents and Wonder Woman ends up splayed face down in the mess, her bright blue panties sticking up as she lies numbly draped over the round surface of one of the steel cans. Consciousness comes and goes like a wandering ghost as she hangs over the steel can.

Part 6

While her Amazonian friend is been summarily dispatched with malicious ease by Desiree, Trixie and Glenda, Supergirl has been suffering her own punishment. After her tits had been pummeled by Chloe and Sharla, the crying teenager was dropped back onto the broken tarmac face-first and kicked repeatedly in the ribs, thighs and back: anywhere the curled fetal position Kara had assumed could be easily reached by the sharp toes of the two whores' high heels. Hard jabbing fists joined in now and then and the bruised and battered blonde heroine now bleeds from her nose and chin. She also sports the start of a black eye from when Chloe grabbed her hair and twisted her head to the sky while Sharla popped her hard in the face. Kara was able to wrench away from that and go back to her fetal curve, whimpering and pleading for the merciless whores to stop. They just laughed and kicked harder.

"These streets are ours, you sorry-ass cunt. You hear me?" Sharla barks.


"Aaaghh! Yes!"

"You don't come 'round here less we say so, white bread. Right?" Chloe taunts, drawing back her foot and then driving it forward.


"Oww. Ohhhhh....r...r...right.."

"Can't hear you, bitch," Sharla spits.


"Aaieeyyee. RIGHT! I said right! Oww...I said right... Stop it. Please..." The mewling Maid of Steel tightens her fetal position and grimaces from the kicks she's enduring.

"Good," Chloe declares. "Now stand up, wimp."

Slowly, a terrorized Kara responds to the command, unwinding her aching body and gingerly standing up until she's fully upright, her arms held up with palms out in defensive wariness, her eyes dripping tears, her mouth quivering, a thin line of blood draining from her nose and dripping from her chin. She's at least a head taller than either of the two whore before her but her demeanor is one of abject submissiveness. She almost seems to be trying make herself smaller, as if she wished to disappear. She can't look at either woman directly in the eye. Her head is bowed and the blue eyes shift nervously back and forth in expectation of more abuse. The kryptonite collar, her fear and the constant savageness of the gang of whores has reduced the teen champion to a sniveling, cowering husk.

"You shave your fresh teen snatch for your johns, skank, or do prefer smelly man-cum clogging up that blonde bush or yours?" Sharla steps forward as she poses the question to Kara who backs up a step in response without replying.

"Answer me, bitch. I don't talk just to hear myself. I need to know what my competition is doin'. Gotta stay in tune with what the customers want, ya' know." Another step forward for Sharla, another step back for Supergirl.

"Speak, bitch."

"...i...i...don't...don't...shave..." Supergirl whispers, mortified.

"So you like the feel of sticky jism in your carpet, huh? The scent of a man whose traced his dick through yo' tangled curlies gets you hot, does it, honky?" Sharla has backed Supergirl up against the brick wall. The Maid of Steel cringes in fear, her body twisting away protectively from the menacing black whore. Hearing a crash of metal to her right, Supergirl shoots a glance in that direction only to see Wonder Woman collapsing over a steel garbage can, limp and helpless. For now, Kara is on her own.

Sharla stands before Supergirl with her hands on her hips and her brown eyes appraising her flustered quarry with snake-like coldness. And a touch of mirth.

Off to Kara's near left, Chloe stands watchful for any sign that the blonde teen might bolt. She has picked up a discarded brown beer bottle which dangles casually from her fingers while her arms are crossed under her breasts. Her stance pushes them up, accenting the cleavage showing through the plunging neckline of her bright red silk blouse. The dual chocolate muffins shimmy in the moonlight.

"' that...."

"Well, how iz it then, sweetness?" Sharla invades Kara's personal space, her face thrust up into her prey's, her eyes blazing with challenge, her arms stretched out with her palms against the brick wall, pinning Supergirl into a cell of warm, fleshy antagonism.

"..i...don' this...for a you. I'm being...forced into this..."

"Oh, so you better than us. You slummin' here 'cause yo' pimp is up in yo' face an' you got nowhere to turn."

"No. There's no pimp. I'm not really a whore but...well, Tony, might be considered my pimp, I guess." Supergirl is now babbling with fear. Sharla's skeptical eyes bore into her, her head slightly turned, the eyebrows raised in doubt.

"You're not a whore but you got a pimp. Girl, you're either dumb as a bag a' rocks or you're a lying cunt." Sharla backs off a step and suddenly produces her switchblade from the small side pocket of her blue leather miniskirt. She flips it with practiced ease and the shining blade locks in place with gleaming menace in the moonlight. "I don't care for dumbness much and I sure as hell don't put up with liars. I think you need to be cut, bitch, just to clear yo' mind and get you focused on just what the fuck you are!"

"Oh Rao! Oh no! Don't..." Kara puts her hands up, her palms violently shaking in mid-air between herself and Sharla and that angry-looking blade.

"Where you want it, girl? The gut? Yo' tits? That tight little cunt?" The knife waves back and forth with transfixing horror before Kara's trembling form.

"NO!" A panicked Supergirl finally bolts to the right, away from Chloe and past Sharla's jabbing knife that misses her by mere inches. A quickly thrust ankle by the short, crafty whore however trips the blonde Kryptonian and she sprawls forward onto the broken asphalt, her cape streaming behind her. Hitting the uneven surface scrapes her hands and knees badly but the desperate teen scrambles mindlessly to a crouch so she can run away out of the alley and somehow get back to Tony for help. The sudden bashing of a beer bottle to the back of her head cancels that thought and most others as Supergirl falls to her hands and knees in dazed confusion, her ears ringing. Before she knows it, she's hauled backwards and thrown up against the brick wall she'd just left a moment before. Sharla's outstretched arm and her hand clutched around Kara's throat keep her pinned against the wall. Chloe has quickly taken firm grasp of her left arm with one hand and firmly grips Supergirl's yellow belt with the other, holding her captive.

Sharla holds the knife up to the blonde teen's face, pointing the blade at her eye, the point circling a mere three inches away.

"....uuuuuggghhhnnnn..." The dazed champion's eyes flutter as her brain begrudgingly pulls sensibility back into place. Sharla and Chloe wait calmly for their prey to reach a higher state of awareness. Up the alley, Trixie, Desiree and Glenda whisper and plan amongst themselves as a low groan emanates from Wonder Woman who is also struggling to regain full consciousness herself.

When Kara's half-lidded blue eyes finally begin to reveal the return of a modicum of intelligence, Sharla squeezes her hand tighter around the teen's soft neck. The black hand against the white throat is only able to encompass half the circumference but the sudden puckering of the skin and the tightly-compressed folds indicate a powerful strength in the small hand.

"HRRYGK!" Supergirl chokes with the sudden constriction of her airway then becomes aware of a knife blade right under her nose. Sharla's cold emotionless brown eye is right behind the blade observing her with reptilian care. Kara feels the very tip of the knife circling the inner edge of her nostril and her eyes widen in horror. Despite Desiree's admonition not to kill her, Supergirl is certain Sharla is about to ignore that command. Too petrified to move with the knife edging slowly around her nostril, Supergirl mews with a pitiful kittenish misery.


"I'm thinking you be the dumbest bitch I run into fo' some time, girl. Just you and your sack of shit friend over there 'gainst all a' us and...LOOK AT ME BITCH! DON'T BE SHIFTIN' THOSE EYES AT YOUR BUTT-SAVIN' BITCH MISTRESS! I'M YO' MISTRESS IN THE HERE AND NOW. YOU GET ME?!!"

"..y..yeh...yess...yesss...." Kara murmurs softly, keeping her head rock still as the knife trembles in her nose with Sharla's anger flooding her system with adrenaline.

"Good girl. Stay focused on me 'cause what I'm sayin' is most important to you right now. Hear me?"

"Uh huh."

"Where was I. Oh yeah, it's just you and Wonder Wuss 'gainst all of us, so there t'ain't no excaping here without a full beatdown like we promised. But when you try and run away like you just done, that pisses me off and its gotta cost you."

"W..w...won't...t.. try it again."

"'Course you won't but that's 'cuz Chloe and me won't let you. But like I say, you got to take your penalty. So what's it going to be? A slit nose..." the sharp knife edges presses against the inner tissue of Kara's nose with dangerous accuracy before it is withdrawn and lowered. The shiny blade slides along her neck, the back of Sharla's hand and then onto Supergirl's chest. It moves between her breasts until the point pokes into the soft curve of her left breast, dimpling the blue fabric just beside the famous red and yellow insignia. "Or s'pose I stick this cute little titty of yours. Leave a nasty scar you can use to start conversations with the johns you entertain?"

"...p..please....please...don't..." breathes the nervous young blonde, her breast rising and falling a bit more rapidly from the terror. The knife point rises and falls with the breast and Supergirl holds her breath to stop the movement. Sharla smiles evilly and pulls the point away from the boob and then, with a sudden insane thrust, arcs it upward until it comes to rest at the very inner edge of Supergirl's eye, mere centimeters away from her tear duct. The fact that Supergirl doesn't jerk in fear or that Sharla doesn't jab the blade through her eye seems miraculous. But the point now hovers there at the very focus of her sight and Kara is cross-eyed looking at the point so close to blinding her for good.

"Maybe you should lose an eye for the trouble you caused. Think that's fair?"

"" Kara whispers almost inaudibly. Her eye stares at her own frightened reflection in the mirror that is the blade.

"I do. I think it's fair," Sharla says cooly, nodding her head as if coming to her decision. "I think it's real fair." Sharla tightens her grip on Supergirl's throat a bit more, the knife ready to plunge.

Kara suddenly experiences a warm rushing sensation between her thighs and feels an inundating wetness under her skirt as she pisses herself in total fear. Her panties are soaked before she knows it and the sound of her splattering, hosing urine splashing onto the street between her legs causes both whores to look down at the sight of yellow urine dropping like a waterfall out from under the short red skirt. Some of this piss runs down the inner thighs and calves of the blonde teenager into her boots. Most of it puddles up on the black asphalt beneath the girl while some of it runs off in five different directions, following the undulating curves and angles of the pavement in tributaries of fear and shame.

"Shit, Desiree was spot on right 'bout you, bitch," Sharla says, stepping away from Supergirl to avoid the spreading puddle of urine rushing at her high heels. She takes her blade with her and the imminent danger it represents. "You're a panty wetter true as any truth told! What a sorry cunt you are. Fact is, you're too pathetic to fuck with! Sit down, bitch. Right there in your own little puddle a' piss. That's a good girl. Now look up at me."

A morose, sick and depressed Supergirl looks up from her cross-legged position. Sitting in the warm spreading puddle of her own piss, the famous champion is filled with anguish at her humiliating display of fear yet deeply thankful her sight is saved from the butcher's blade. As her dulled anxious eyes finally focus up at Sharla's sneering face, she registers the shadow of the beer bottle coming in from the side. Chloe's aim is true and the bottom of the arcing bottle smashes into the blonde's temple with a resonant thump. The Maid of Steel collapses sideways in a senseless heap, her nose bleeding, her eyes white in a endless stare without pupils.

"She sure picked the wrong fuckin' costume," Chloe says. "Never came across such a total wimp in my life." The jeering whore tosses the bottle lightly at the slumping heroine and it bounces off her thigh and lands beside her knee, spinning around once before coming to a rest in the silence of the deep alleyway. It's twenty minutes to two in the morning and Tony Bonano's famous prize heroines have had the crap beat out of them by a gang of whores merely concerned with protecting their turf. The man will not be happy with the results of the evening. Needless to say, neither will the girls. And still the night is young.

End of Chapter 67-B

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Supergirl Captured by the Mob part 67.2