Supergirl Captured by the Mob

Part 67C - An Imaginary Incident: The Girls Meet The Street - Part Three

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 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.

Diana's heavy eyelids slowly flicker open as her consciousness gradually returns. Staring straight ahead, she sees two beady red eyes of a surprisingly large rat standing on its hind legs beside the garbage can on which she is draped. The pale pink nose twitches at her in curious wonder at the strange new object in its alley domain. The two beings watch each other warily for a beat until Diana bares her teeth at the rodent with clear menace. The rat's tail twitches back and forth with nervous hesitation. It is his alley after all but this creature is much bigger than itself. With a petulant sniff, the rat backs down and scurries off into a crack in the nearby wall. He will return when the coast is clear of this human danger.

Slowly breathing in until her mind clears enough to assess her situation, Diana hears one of the whores talking from some distance, down the alley a way she guesses, not wanting to move or give away the fact that she's come to her senses until she has a plan.

"...the wrong fuckin' costume." It's sounds like Chloe, the black brunette in the black vinyl hot pants and red blouse that she had stunned stupid with a shot to the chin much earlier in the fight. Back when she was winning. Which seems like a ages ago.

"Never came across such a total wimp in my life." The little bitch was talking about Kara. If they only knew the courage of her blonde friend at her best. That damn kryptonite necklace was turning poor Supergirl into a helpless, severely handicapped partner.

The clinking sound of a bottle hitting pavement resonates briefly before the silence absorbs the moment. And then an angry Wonder Woman acts with absolute resolve and coldly-restrained fury. Heaving herself backward off the tipped-over garbage can, Diana spins in place to face her foes. Her ice blue eyes immediately take in the huddled threesome of Desiree, Glenda and Trixie a mere eight feet away. Their heads turn toward her, their eyes wide at the surprising speed of recovery by this bitch in the Wonder Woman costume. Desiree even considers the possibility that this woman could be the real Wonder Woman. She certainly has the figure and the fight for it. If that's the case, she and her crew could be in for a hell of a fight here again. As if reading her thoughts, the costumed Amazon takes a jump forward and then propels herself right into the center of the trio with a flying leap, one leg kicking out and connecting with Trixie's cheek while the other comes down hard and heavy on the foot of a screeching Glenda.

"GHUNNHH!" Trixie grunts loudly as she goes spinning off against the alley wall and collapses to her knees in a daze.

"YEEEOWWWW!" With her foot screaming with pain from the weight of the powerful Amazon landing on it, Glenda falls backward in flailing awkwardness thanks to the added shove that Wonder Woman gives her. The tall redhead lands on her butt with a hissing rip of purple fabric. Her tight micro-mini dress splits up the side and flops open revealing a smooth expanse of creamy freckled hip thigh and a flash of powder blue lace panties. "Oww. SHIT! Feels like you broke my fuckin' foot!"

Left standing alone, a livid Desiree takes a hard shot at Diana's face but the lightning-fast Amazon ducks back enough for the black fist to go whooshing past her cheek with barely an inch to spare. Off balance, Desiree is an easy target for a reflex-quick roundhouse backhand from Wonder Woman. The blow drives Desiree back several feet, her cheek smarting with a glow that brightens the whore's face even as it narrows her eyes with anger.

"Come back for more punishment, bitch?" Desiree growls with a bravado that comes from long, fierce years in the street protecting her turf.

"If you mean your punishment, you ugly cow, then yes," Wonder Woman snarls back. "Let's see how good you are when you have to fight fair. As I recall, you pretty much suck at it."

"Sharla, Chloe. A little help here. We've got some more bitch taming to do."

Striding away from the unconscious figure of Supergirl flopped over in a puddle of her own piss, the two black whores join Desiree's side with faces filled with matching determination.

"Your short young cohorts won't save you from the beating I am about to deliver, Desiree."

"We'll see about that, cunt. We handled you well enough before," Desire states cooly as she slips the brass knuckles out of her jacket pocket and onto her hand.

"A sucker punch that won't work again, I assure you." Wonder Woman's hands are poised defensively, her back straight, her bearing regal. Amazon training is taking over her movements and the whores' eyebrows flick upward. All their pupils widen in nervous regard of this undeterred foe facing the three of them without a hint of retreat. They recall the first beating she gave them. None of the trio is eager to advance and Diana senses this. She actually smiles at them.

"What's the matter, ladies? A little hesitant to fight someone who's not cringing in fear or already out on their feet?"

"Just you wait, slut. You'll be back to groanin' and droolin' soon enough," says Desiree.

"Big talk from someone who's planted in place, whore. Come get me if you think you can, street slime." Diana tries to goad the tall leader into making a foolish move.

"Circle this bitch, girls." Desiree motions for Sharla to move to her left and Chloe to go right. Reluctantly and very cautiously, both step in opposite directions, looking to surround Wonder Woman. It would be more effective with five opponents but thanks to Diana's quick work, Glenda and Trixie are out of commission for the moment.

Diana taunts each with a phony smile and a come hither wave of both hands. "Well, let's go, girls. Why the delay? Step lively. Time to get your lights punched out."

Despite the fake smile, Wonder Woman is furious within at the treatment she and Supergirl have received at the hands of these street vermin. She is looking forward to paying them back with interest. Lots of bloody, bruising interest!

"Watch her hands and feet careful like, Chloe. She's tricky. Sharla, you stick her with that knife if'n you see an opening." Desiree's command of her troops is well-reasoned. Sharla's knife is in her hand slowly waving back and forth in a threatening yet cautious approach at the waiting Amazon. Desiree's elbow of the hand with the brass knuckles is cocked and ready to jab out hard as she takes a small step forward.

"Oh, poor Chloe doesn't have a weapon," coos Diana. "Maybe you should use your shoe, dear, if you're feeling inadequate about dealing with me."

"Thanks for the idea, bitch!" Chloe stops in place and reaches down to take off her shoe. She's still looking straight at Diana as she does.

"CHLOE, DON'T!" Desiree screams out her warning but it's much too late for the whore in the red blouse. Diana springs on her in an instant, leaping up and striking the bending girl's shoulder with the heel of her boot. Violently spun in place by the force of the attack, Chloe falls to the street on her right side with a mixture of pain and dismay.

"AAWWWWK!" Chloe's arm and her hand holding the shoe are pinned beneath her. She looks up in time to see Wonder Woman's elbow strike her dead center in the forehead and she goes limp with the blow.

And Diana doesn't stay there to congratulate herself. She knows Sharla is rushing right at her with her knife arm extended, looking to spear her in the kidney if she can. An incredibly graceful spin move puts the knife arm on the opposite hip of the fast-moving Amazon and it's a simple matter to grab it, wrench it and make the small whore drop the weapon with a squeal of pain. With the arm pinned against her hip, Diana drops, rolls and flips the shocked Sharla head over heels into the array of tumbled garbage cans nine feet away. The resounding crash of the tiny whore's body against the steel cans is music to Wonder Woman's ears. Maybe she hasn't lost all her skills under Tony's oppressive tyranny.

Rising and turning quickly, Diana sees the flash of brass and hurtling black fist coming right at her chest in a driving jab of icy determination from a snarling Desiree. The Amazon warrior steps back at once to nullify the force as much as she can while grabbing the fist and absorbing the energy behind it with her two clutching hands around the brass-covered fist.

"HHUUNNHH!" It stings like hell as it smacks into her hands and breasts but Diana has managed to cushion the impact enough to neutralize the damage into a manageable wallop that only stuns her slightly. Backed up two halting steps, Diana holds onto Desiree's fist and pulls her with her, throwing the whore leader off balance. Both women recover simultaneously and Desiree manages to yank her arm free, take a step back and prepare to wage another assault on this hell bitch of a fighter before her.

"Those knuckles hurt like a bitch, don't they, girl?" Desiree goes into a quick boxing shuffle, feinting this way and that while Wonder Woman watches for openings.

"You're down two more flunkies, Dez," Diana points out. "Looks like it's just me and you. Ready for that beating now?"

"Maybe not jes' yet, sugar. I still got enough brass here to crack yo' head with." Desiree waves her fist with its brass reinforcements in a threatening circle and then jabs the air with a double pump.

It's all nothing but showcasing to Diana. She's experienced enough to know when an opponent is feinting and when she's going gunning for real. "You just tried to hit me with those iron knuckles of yours and failed, whore. Now it's my turn."

"Don't think so, asshole. NOW SHARLA!"

Without hesitation, Diana steps a foot to the side and spins in place to take on the knife-wielding whore. But she's not there. She's over by the garbage cans holding her head and trying to stand up. The oldest trick in the books and she fell... Desire's punishing, stabbing brass knuckles are buried deep in Wonder Woman's back just that quickly.

"AARGGGHHH!"

Wonder Woman's neck arcs back and her legs go numb from the brutal blow. She falls to her knees in wincing agony. Her eyes blur from the pain as she struggles to control the nausea Desiree's punch has caused. Turning her head in automatic reflex from years of battle training, Diana sees Desiree's jabbing fist coming back to finish her off. She's able to dodge the blow by mere inches and as the fist goes by, she snaps her elbow up in Desiree's face, hearing a satisfying thump and yowl from her surprised adversary. Shaking her head, Diana stands up unsteadily. She silently thanks Hera for her warrior's reflexes. She looks at Sharla standing on two wobbly feet of her own and Desiree who's crouching with one knee on the ground and her hands in her face moaning loudly.

"I dink you broke by dose, you bidch," whimpers Desiree.

"I hope so, whore. Can't think of anyone I'd rather have done that to."

Looking up at Wonder Woman with blood streaming out of her crooked nose, even with all that, the fierce anger and determination are only slightly dulled in the tall whore's eyes.

"Dis fight ain'd over det, honky."

"Oh, I think it is, Desiree. You're out of flunkies."

"Dink agaid, 'ou sdupid cund!" Desiree replies with an ugly smile.

Out of nowhere, the point of Glenda's high heel bangs into the back of Wonder Woman's head from behind. Driven with angry purpose, the shoe does its work and the black-haired heroine's bright blue irises wobble noticeably in place before rising slowly up under her lids. Stunned senseless, the costumed beauty falls to her knees and then flat on her face. Once again, blind-sided by a sneaky, desperate foe, Wonder Woman lies fallen in the night, moaning and limp with her legs useless and her mind a fog of confusion. The mighty Amazon struggles to stay conscious while just a dozen feet away Supergirl lies in a puddle of her own urine, completely senseless, her costume wrinkled, her panties rank with piss. The once mighty and powerful Maid of Steel is now little more than a tempest-tossed artifact of flotsam washed up on the barren shore of defeat. And Wonder Woman seems to be tumbling helplessly in the same surf.

Part 7

Tony Bonano sips slowly from the crystal tumbler filled with smooth 25-year old Chivas Regal scotch and two ice cubes. There's just enough ice to cool the amazing liquor without watering it down.

"Mmmhh. That's great stuff," he says to Carmine who sits on the armchair across from his young boss and nods. Carmine slowly twirls the glass in his hand, looking into its golden curves, the gray shadows and white reflections within the ice. He's frowning. "What's the matter now, Carmine?"

"I'm just concerned about the girls. It's late and I expected 'em back by now."

Tony brings up his wrist to check his watch. "It's only just two o'clock. These are amateurs don't forget, Carm. It might take them a few johns to reach their goal of a hundred bucks, specially on a slow Tuesday night, and especially at the ridiculous rates I have them quoting."

Tony chuckles aloud at the thought of the two most powerful women in the world now proffering their tits and shaking their asses at passing cars just to raise the kind of money he would give as a Christmas tip to his barber. Well, that will teach them that escape is not an option. He's not worried about them yet. Wonder Woman may not have her power belt but she's still strong enough to handle any john she'll have to ball. Supergirl and her kryptonite choker might be an issue, but Tony thinks the blonde should be able to get by on charm. And she's not totally out of it, just tampered down to docile by the dosing he set the choker at. In any case, the dive hotel they're supposed to use has adjacent rooms booked for them. In case anything goes wrong, the ladies can look out for each other.

"Let's give them another hour and a half. If they don't come back with their tails between their legs and their bras stuffed with chump change, we'll go out and round 'em up."

"I still don't like it," Carmine says, then takes a swallow of his Chivas. It really is an incredible tasting scotch. He can't help but savor its silky flavors.

"Don't sweat it, Carm, they're super heroes. They know how to take care of themselves."


Wonder Woman's face bounces off the pavement with a sickening thump. Glenda holds her hair in her fist and slams her a second time against the street's uneven surface.

"AAGGHH! HUNGGHH! ....oohhhhhhhh......." Dizzy from the blow from the hard concrete as well as Glenda's shoe, the Amazon's arms flail wildly out behind her trying desperately to strike at the opponent holding her head by her hair, seemingly trying to yank it all out in one thick clump by the feel of it. Diana's hand strikes a face and immediately it turns into a claw, clutching and ripping at the flesh it finds there.

"AIYEE!" Glenda screams and suddenly Wonder Woman's head is released. It's all she can do to resist the momentum and stop her face from slamming back into the pavement. Gathering herself, she instantly bends her knee and kicks up into the body behind her.

"OWWW!" A second howl flies out of a surprised Glenda as her thigh and then elbow are caught in the up-swipe of Wonder Woman's boot. She staggers backward with a groan, uneasy on her feet and holding her elbow with her opposite hand. "Aagghhh! You stupid bitch!"

After shakily getting to her feet, Diana pulls herself erect and looks around at her opponents and her ally. Glenda wavers on rubbery legs a mere four feet away, her red hair disheveled. Her face is scraped with a thin gash from Diana's fingernail. The tall white whore's eyes are looking down as she inspects the nasty scrapes on her thigh and elbow from the heel of her foe's red and white boots. Woozy, the tall, fair-haired whore is unused to such violence. She goes down on one knee, bending her head and trying to stop herself from being sick. Behind Glenda, Chloe is sprawled out on her back with her arms flung wide, completely unconscious.

At least that's something to be thankful for.

To her right, Supergirl is holding her temple but still limp, on her side and groaning. She's still very much out of it yet. To her left, Desiree is down on one knee, squeezing her nose, using the pressure of her fingers to try to slow the blood. Her face is twisted with anger and pain as she looks over at Diana. Farther left, Sharla stands up straight, rooted in place among the turned over cluster of garbage cans as she surveys the scene in the alley herself. Seeing the carnage that the woman in the red and blue costume has wrought, the testy young whore is furious that this has not at all gone as she had expected. She so wanted to hurt this tall costumed cunt: cut her down to size. The bitch hasn't made it easy.

She grudgingly nods at Wonder Woman who just stares back at the short black whore who's holding her knife at her thigh, tapping it against it as she apparently tries to decide her next step. The rhythmic tapping gesture is slow and restrained. Over and over, the knife taps the dark bare thigh. It's almost mesmerizing to the weary, battle-worn heroine. Diana now wants to fight these whores no more than they seem to want to fight her. But if she makes a move toward Kara to collect her, she has no illusions about the band of street-hardened ladies letting them just walk off into the sunrise. They'll certainly regroup and come at her again. Diana sighs at the futility of it. Four against one really, with Kara no help at.....FOUR?

Diana spins just in time to see a huge big-breasted blue blur rushing at her from behind a big green dumpster. The leaping Trixie is bringing her hands down from high in the air with a steel garbage can lid aimed directly at Diana's head. Instinctively, the raven-haired Amazon positions her hands up, wrists out to protect herself from the danger with her trusty god-given bracelets. Except that instead of bullet-reflecting metal of unworldly durability, Wonder Woman is wearing shoddy tin replicas that offer virtually no protection whatsoever. Tempered steel meets thin useless tin with a crumpling of metal, a clang of steel on flesh and a scream of agony.

"AIEEYEEE!" Wonder Woman is bent over backwards by the momentum of Trixie's attack and the glancing blow to her head, but as the whore stumbles away after the impact, the heroine is able keep her feet even though she's numb with the pain in her wrists and arms which bore the brunt of the crushing blow. She holds her forearms together, massaging them with her hands, sick with worry at the gash on her left wrist beneath the dangling tin shard swinging from her arm. Diana's head is bent low, stunned and dazed, shocked at the damage, her mind reeling. Trixie stabilizes herself a few feet away, turns to face her foe again, the steel lid still tight in her hands. The Wonder bitch isn't even looking at her, her focus directed at the dripping wound on her wrist. Trixie pulls the steel cover back, dashes forward and swings for the fences. Diana hears a noise in front of her, looks up and takes the hard face of the gray steel disc directly on her right cheek.

KLAANGKKK!

Wonder Woman's head snaps sideways even as her body is launched backwards in helpless, uncomprehending flight. She sails backward several feet through the air in a twisting turn until she lands face down on the cool tarmac in a sprawled spread eagle, arms and legs flung out to the side, bent at right angles at her elbows and knees. The Princess of Thymiscira is completely unconscious before her breasts even stop quivering.

"Alright, Trixie!" Sharla cheers loudly. "PUT 'DAT BITCH DOWN! You my hero!"

"Dice worg, Drix," Desiree smiles for real the first time in twenty minutes as she walks over to where Trixie stands beaming, clutching the can lid against her chest like some kind of award. Desiree's nose has stopped bleeding but the small angle there shows a definite break. Desiree doesn't have workman's compensation and she's worried what her pimp, Dooley, will do when he sees what's happened to her. She directs her anger at the senseless body, kicking Wonder Woman hard in the side of her face.

"Bidch!"

The point of the shoe opens up a new wound at Wonder Woman's temple where she'd taken the brass knuckles from Desiree earlier. A thin trail of blood drips down, a gleam of red in the moonlight. Other than the thud of the shoe on the inert body, there's not a sound from the still figure harsh on the ground. Not a groan, not a whimper. Just the gathering wind from the threatening storm overhead.

Sharla comes up behind Desiree and kneels down next to Wonder Woman's head. The short, grinning whore pulls up on the long black hair, raising the scraped, oblivious face of her adversary. The slack mouth drops open, the jaw loose. The bright blue eyes are hidden behind heavy lids smudged with dirt and bits of gravel. There's no awareness in this person. Sharla puts her knife at Wonder Woman's exposed white throat.

"DHO!" Desiree barks then winces. "We're dot burderin' her, Sharla, We'll fuck 'er ub, bud dho killin'."

"Fine," growls Sharla as she drops the limp head to the street. The thump of soft flesh on unforgiving asphalt brings a satisfied grunt from the short black whore who rises to her feet and straightens out her blue leather miniskirt. "So how we gonna fuck her up? And her sack of shit friend over there?"

Part 8

Desiree stands over Wonder Woman's limp figure thinking of the best way to humiliate this bitch for breaking her nose. Much as she'd like to kill her, she only has prostitution on her record. She has no desire to spend any more than one night at a time in a jail cell. Still, the cunt deserves payback big time. Looking around the alley, she sees all the garbage strewn around from the tipped over cans. Spotting a wine bottle, she walks over to retrieve it. Sauntering back toward the unconscious red and blue-clad beauty, Desiree stands three feet away, looking down at the generous soft bumps of the bitch's ass clad in bright blue with white stars.

"Pull down this cunt's pants," Desire tells Sharla. "I'm gonna stick this bottle where the sun don't shine."

"STOP!"

Desire, Sharla and Trixie turn their heads to see Supergirl standing up before them. She's wavering slightly in her power stance but her eyes are clear and penetrating for the first time since the band of whores surrounded them at the shoe store window.

"Move away from Wonder Woman immediately," Kara barks out the command. She has fitted a tiny pebble fragment in the opening of her collar and, while it's not lead, it does modify the amount of kryptonite being emitted so Supergirl feels marginally better now. She may be as strong as any one of these whores she's facing. Not all of them sadly but she may be able to take on at least one at a time. That will have to be enough if she is to save Diana from the indignity promised by the vengeful Desiree.

"Who's gonna make us, blondie? You?" Sharla is grinning at the blonde teen in delighted expectation of having someone she can beat on.

"Yes. Me!" Kara juts out her chin defiantly. "This ridiculous turf war stops now."

"Or whad happens?" Desiree asks with obvious scepticism. "You pith all ober yourselb agaid to deach uth a lezzon?" Trixie and Sharla laugh outright while Supergirl glowers at them. Even now her dripping panties are cool and clammy against her crotch.

"No," she presses on, her voice cold with fury. "I beat the crap out of you and take you to jail."

"Wow," Trixie responds immediately, "I want the crack this girl's smokin' if she thinks she can all of a sudden beat on all'a us."

A flicker of doubt and need buzzes through Kara's mind with the mention of crack. It's been hours since she's had any and her body is definitely beginning to want its dose of nirvana. Pushing it out of her thoughts, Kara boldly speaks out, "Are you going to go quietly or do I have to get rough?"

"Get rough, blondie. I'm dyin' to see you try," Sharla says with her usual menace as she sets herself in a fighting stance. She hasn't even pulled her knife. Trixie and Desiree assume sideways attack positions as well. There's no fear in any of the whores' faces Kara notes. And why would there be? She certainly hasn't given them any reason to be worried with the way she's handled herself this evening. Well, she's about to change that right now.

Dashing forward, Supergirl feints a sharp jab at Trixie's stomach which backs the wary whore up a step. Not stopping there but continuing forward, Kara leaps in the air and kicks out unexpectedly with a sideways foot thrust at Sharla's knee. She connects solidly and a stunned Sharla falls to one good knee with a howl that pleases Supergirl. Without pause, however, Desiree drops the wine bottle and jumps toward the preoccupied blonde teen, tackling her roughly to the ground.

"Hey! OWW!" Kara cries out as she falls on her back with the weight of Desiree pinning her in place. The tall whore rears back as she straddles the stunned Maid of Might's waist with her knees. Her white tube top wobbles with the sway of her tits beneath. She's about to punch out blondie's lights when Supergirl's fist slams into her groin.

"GHUUH!" Keeling over sideways with a gasping grunt, Desiree clutches her crotch in breathless distress. Her cheek rests against the cold asphalt as she tries to recover. Supergirl pushes the large body off her and leaps to her feet to take on the onrushing Trixie. Stepping aside in as neat a dodging maneuver as any Diana might execute, Supergirl grabs the passing big breasted whore by the shoulders and uses her momentum to hurl the short streetwalker into the brick wall.

"HUUUNNNH." Flattened by the force of hitting unyielding brick, Trixie totters and sways, then falls to the street in a confused lump. "...ohhhhhhhhh..." Kneeling with her butt pressing on her heels, the black whore in the blue mesh top moans in numb bewilderment.

Kara is thrilled with the results of her foray. She sees a slow, dazed Chloe getting to her feet off to her left and an angry upright Glenda in a flapping, ripped dress stalking forward from her right, her naked thigh flashing in the breeze. Turning to face Glenda, who's claw-like hands with their curved fingernails poised for damage are now streaking at her at eye level, Supergirl swings her left arm up defensively. This knocks the enraged redhead's hands to the side and Kara uses the opening to bury her fist in the tall girl's gut. Glenda's pale, freckled face gets even lighter as her cheeks blow out from the punch.

"GHOOOFFF!" Glenda falls down hard on her butt with her legs flying up in a flash of her blue panties. The redhead starts to wheeze for air with whistling urgency.

Only Chloe remains and she still looks unsteady. Diana must have really clocked this one good. She's wavering rather badly as she comes toward Supergirl, fists up but eyes barely open.

Got to give her credit for trying at least. But I've done it. I've taken down every one of...

"GHUUGGHHH!" The force of the base of the wine bottle slamming into her coccyx bone instantly incapacitates Supergirl. She collapses to the broken asphalt and bursts into tears and screeching pain. "Aieeeyaaahhh...Owwwww.....aaagghhhhhh...." Curled on her side, her hands clutch at her rear as she writhes on the ground in agony. "...ohhhhhh...Rao.... such pain... ...can't take it..."

Desiree gets up from her kneeling position, waving the wine bottle around by its neck as she stands over the weeping blonde at her feet with a curled sneering lip.

"Should alwayth wadch yur back, zuperghirl. Doo mady ob uth aroud here dad cad hurd you."

That said, Desiree swings the wine bottle down hard on Supergirl's vulnerable hip

"OWW!"

Pleased with the sharp cry of misery, Desiree proceeds to punish this blonde cunt for her insolence and her defiance. She swings the bottle like a club. Again and again she rains blows down on the cringing blonde who goes fetal. Kara tries desperately to block the hard green glass bottle with her flailing hands. No matter where her hands go, the bottle finds opening after opening, delivering bruising shots to Supergirl's ribs, her shoulders, thighs, knees and ankles.

"...stop....please...owwww...stop...it....i...give...up...owww....OH...augghhh...no more... pleeeeze...no more...." The bruising bottle thuds over and over into the helpless teenager's defenseless body until Desiree takes a breath and backs off, watching the inert blonde lie on the ground in sobbing anguish.

"Bick 'er ub, Char," Desiree tells Sharla. "Hold 'er 'gainds dat wall." A hand grabs Supergirl's cape and hoists her up from behind to and yanks her backward against the wall. Supergirl rests there on very shaky legs. With her nose dripping blood and snot, the whimpering teenager is once more reduced to sniveling in misery at the hands of the whores. All her bravado has melted away with the fierce beating she's sustained. She looks up plaintively at Desiree, her chest heaving with each sob while Sharla holds her arm and throat in steely grips.

"...d..don't hit me anymore," pleads the teary teen. "...think...I'm...bleeding.... internally.."

"What happened to beating the crap out of us and taking us to jail, bitch?" Sharla's face is next to Supergirl's her lips blowing her taunt in the miserable champion's ear.

"Yeah," Desiree adds. "Dalking like a hero geds you nuddin' bud diz, bidch!"

Desiree jams the bottom of the wine bottle into Kara's abdomen with a vicious thrust.

"OOOOONNFFF!" All of the air in Kara's lungs bursts out of her mouth in a gasping rush while Sharla holds her up against the wall by her neck. Supergirl's face is bright red, her eyes wide as she tries to draw air into her empty lungs. Her mouth gapes hugely with the effort. A sudden second penetrating jab from the bottle in Desiree's hand to Kara's abdomen defeats all the blonde's efforts. The third punishing, thumping blow to her gut collapses Supergirl's legs entirely and only Sharla's hands on her throat and arm and Desiree's grip of the sweaty blonde's bangs keeps the slouching champion from sagging to the ground.

"Gloe. Gum here ad 'elp uz hode her ub."

Quickly responding, Chloe comes around and takes a hold of Supergirl's other side and her belt. The sagging teen is held up against the cool brick, her eyes are half open, her mouth is gaping wide as possible and a thin desperate wheezing whistle from her throat tells the tale of her breathless struggle for oxygen after three devastating blows to her stomach from the durable wine bottle.

"Gud, Ghloe. Danks," Desiree nods at her crew member, then pulls aside the crotch of Supergirl's damp sodden panties, exposing her privates. "Dow, hew bwonde cund, f'u wanna fuck od our durf, den fuck dhis!" Holding the bottle by its base, the whore's leader jams the long neck of the dark green bottle into the deepest recesses of Supergirl's vagina.

"WWHHEEEEPPPP!" The back of Kara's head knocks against the brick as the piercing pain of the bottle drives into her feminine treasures with a ruthless thumping rush. Her irises start to slide upward. And then the bottle is withdrawn and immediately thrust in again.

"Aaaahhhhh!" With so little air in her, Supergirl's tormented protest is a whispered gasp that brings a smile to Sharla's face. The teen cunt's own face is pale and slightly greenish from the shock and agony of this assault. The dulled eyes drift to see Sharla but there's no acknowledgment there from the blonde as the heavy head lolls in her tight grip. The bottle is pulled out and thrust in yet again. Supergirl's tongue flops out over her lip and her mouth gapes even wider in search of any possible air to take in.

"You like this kind of fucking, champ?" Chloe sneers as she holds up the limp figure and cruelly taunts her. Chloe is deeply angry at the beating she's taken from Wonder Woman and is pleased to be able to help dish out the retribution to her wimpy blonde dyke friend. "Hope so, 'cuz this is the only thing goin' in your skanky teen twat tonight, buttercup. Hey, Dez. Let me have a go at her."

"Fide," Desiree says and Chloe takes hold of the base of the wine bottle in a flawless handoff. She then proceeds to ram the blunt instrument in and out of Supergirl's vagina in a relentless fury of pistoning brutality. Over and over, the long neck of the bottle delves deep and withdraws within the slit between Supergirl's legs. Again and again, the youthful body jolts and jumps limply in place as she is savagely abused by the deliriously vengeful Chloe. Finally, dripping a thin line of blood from her badly damaged pussy, Supergirl's body is released by the three whores and she collapses to the dark asphalt in groaning agony. The three whores look down at the figure gasping, moaning and whimpering at their feet in triumph.

"Step away from her now, you bitches. It's time to deal with me again!"

Nearby, Glenda is flat on her back with a resolute Wonder Woman standing with her foot on the limp redhead's shoulder. Off to the left, Trixie is slumped over, also in an obviously unconscious state. The stealthy black-haired beauty in red and blue clearly had been busy while the other three whores had been occupied with her blonde friend.

"This bitch just don't quit," Sharla says with grudging respect.

"Dho. Thee dothn't," agrees Desiree.

"Shit! Here we go again," says Chloe.

End of Chapter 67-C

If you like this series or have feedback that you'd like to share, you can contact the author at drdominator9@live.com