By Dr. Dominator
Supergirl Captured by the Mob
Part 70 - Last Minute Chess Moves
By Dr. Dominator
Note: The Supergirl character and name as well as Superman, Lex Luthor, Wonder Woman and Diana Prince are the property of DC Comics. Tony Bonano and his crew as well as Sergei Zhukovia, Don Gino Lupenzo 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.
Previously in Supergirl Captured by the Mob...
"I want you to go downstairs to the Pleasure Dome's Bang Bang Room on the second floor, Wonder Woman. Just follow the signs from the elevator."
"B..Buh..Bang Bang Room?" The frozen beauty angles her head just an inch, her eyes darting to the side, just catching Tony in her peripheral vision as he waves his hands expansively.
"Yes, that's the name of our exclusive strip club: raised stage, spotlights, chrome pole, shouting drunk patrons. The usual. I can't believe I haven't taken you in there before now. Anyway, you'll be wearing your original uniform, hopefully not too sweaty and stained from your session upstairs with Don Lugese. Oh, and you'll need to think up some fun moves. And be sure to work in your tits to the act. A lot. You and they are already prominently featured in the promotional flier. Thanks, babe. You can go now."
After a dismissive wave of his hand, Wonder Woman walks out of the room tall and erect and proud. Inside, she's crumbling to emotional rubble. The man had a gift for destroying her psyche. He certainly did.
And now the story continues:
The strength of any hero's psyche can be severely tested. In fact, applying stress via crippling physical pain and alternating that with mind-numbing pleasure can often lead to a crumbled wall of heroic reserve and the subsequent breach of a hero's willpower. Of course, after that, a noticeable loosening of the tongue frequently occurs. Lex Luthor is more than aware of just how such a regimen can work. In fact, he has been applying this hypothesis in a carefully controlled experiment with the Man of Steel for the past thirty minutes. The results are most encouraging.
"....don't know....the radiation radius...of kryptonite...varies...by rock size...."
The famous Man of Steel is strapped to a titanium chair, with broad bands of the unbreakable metal circling his waist and thighs. His arms rest on the chair's arms, the wrists held tightly there as well in unyielding titanium cuffs welded to the wide flat arms. A steel rod is buried five inches up the ass of world-renowned paragon of power and a small flood lamp bathes his sweating face in a cone of pale green light. Lex's pretty young assistant Roxie holds a clump of Superman's hair in her fist and pulls it backward, arching the Kryptonian's neck as she whispers in his ear.
"Oh, you don't want to disappoint Lexie, Super Shaft. That rod is a lot longer than five inches. Maybe even as long as this impressive equipment of yours. So it can punch right through your pain threshold like tissue paper, pal. And besides, wouldn't you rather enjoy me pulling this hefty boner of yours instead of having your ass fucked by a dildo? Oooh, I bet you're the type who likes both at once? I'm right, aren't I?"
"Go...to...hell...bitch!" Superman turns his head and glares at the peroxide blonde.
"Big talk from a guy who pissed himself in the tub yesterday. She enjoys the look of shame on the face inches from hers before she yanks his head back once again and coos into his ear. "Anyway, tell Roxie the truth, big fella. You know the radius, don't cha?"
Superman's red briefs and blue tights have been pulled down so they stretch tightly across his thighs. Between his naked and spread legs, Lex's slutty associate gently squeezes her fist over the pinned hero's foot-long hard muscle. The pleasure gel makes her palm slide easily and rapidly up and down Superman's exposed dick. She gives him a flurry of quick slippery strokes and then stops. The camera catches the eyes of the drugged hero as they flutter in confusion at the pleasure suddenly re-awarded him. The switching back and forth between sharp pain and sexual thrill badly disorients the exhausted Kryptonian.
Since he's been captured by Lex, Kal has never been so humiliated and ashamed of himself in his life. He's said things and done things and had things done to him that he never would have believed possible. Having a steel pole jammed up his ass while a woman's hand jerks him off is something he never imagined he'd be subjected to. It was horrifying and yet incredibly stimulating. Nothing like anything he'd ever had to deal with before. But that's what made Lex Luthor the criminal genius he was. He thought outside the box. If the box was on earth. Lex's imagination was out past Mars.
"My powerful intoxicant is far too potent for you to resist, Superman," Luthor boasts from across the room. "It enfeebles your will power even as it stimulates your nerve receptors. Pain and pleasure: they're both greatly intensified. So, you may as well answer my questions. I know most of what you will be telling me anyway."
"...then...why ask them...Lex...?..."
"Scientific verisimilitude, you dumb ox. It's what keeps me ahead of the pack. Okay, I'll grant you that the size of a chunk of kryptonite affects its draining radius. Let me pose this question instead: Would the same size rock, say 5 pounds in weight, at the same distance away from a Kryptonian, have a noticeably different affect on, well, your cousin Supergirl, for example, than you...given your much greater mass?"
"Oh, come on! Was that question really too difficult for you to grasp, you dumb ape?" Lex is scowling at the securely restricted figure eight feet away. The costumed chump was trying to fight against the alternating sequence of pain and pleasure but he was losing badly. Lex always got his way when he put his mind to a task.
"...no...i..i...got it....but...it may not...make a...difference...i...don't...think so..."
"Tch, tch, tch," clucks Roxie in his ear. "Even I'm not buying that."
Lex pushes a lever forward on his control panel with a sharp nudge.
"Aaaarrrgghhhh!" The rod jolts an additional three inches up into Superman's anal cavity and then rotates as if it's coring an apple. The ridge on the tip of the anal probe irritates the lining there in a way that has Superman's eyes wincing and tearing up. This goes on for nearly 30 seconds. When Lex pulls the lever back, it retracts back to five inches deep inside the Kryptonian's rear. The sweat drips off Superman's nose as his head drops to his chest with a groan.
"Answer the question, Kal?" Luthor's voice is cold and insistent. "How noticeably different would your twat cousin react?"
"...more!...OWW!...ohhhh...more...she'd...feel it more." Superman's bowed head watches the feminine hand gripping his cock. His eyes barely focus with the torment he's been subjected to for the last half hour.
Roxie nudges his face up with the forefinger on her left hand and she smiles at him. Her right hand feathers up and down the cock with a swift flurry of repetitive motion to reward the hero for answering. Superman grunts like an animal with the sudden pleasure. His mind is dulled to mush.
"What a good boy," she says.
Lex continues his grilling of the slouching figure in the Chair of Discipline. "And if that five-pound piece of kryptonite were ten feet away from her, what would happen?"
"To her knees?" Lex's eyes go wide with delighted anticipation as he tilts his head for the answer.
"...i....i would.....go...to my knees... She'd fall flat....on..on her face...or her back... it..it...depends...on gravity...balance....inertia....things...like that......"
"Excellent! Most illuminating. Roxie, give the man his due again."
The dutiful moll's fist blurs as she strokes the hard pinkish rod with glistening lubricant that has Superman panting and rolling his eyes in complete delight. The drug has intensified everything. He has no reserves of super strength to fight it and every silky stroke of her palm goes straight to his brain. He can't think straight and the questions keep coming. He only wants this torment to be over. He needs desperately to ejaculate. He'll answer anything asked to make it stop. Roxie brings the moaning man to the brink and then she suddenly stops her hand work and pulls it away. Superman's chest continues to heave while his pelvis quivers and his rock hard penis bobs and jerks in the air between his legs. And then Lex asks another question from his control board a dozen feet away.
"Would a kryptonite dildo in either her ass or her vagina kill Supergirl?"
"...yes..certainly...in time....you know that..." Superman barks out, crazed by his needs, his face flushed and wild.
"How much time?"
"...too many...variables..." the broken champion suddenly mumbles quietly as the need to cum dissipates. His head drops low, rolling on his shoulders. "...like....uhhh...the..quality of the kryptonite..."
"Assume the very best. I only use the best," Luthor beams.
"..30 minutes...maybe less..."
"Really? That quickly? I don't believe you." The control panel lever is jolted forward again and the steel anal rod plunges eight inches deep into the hero's cavity.
The whine of the rod retracting fills the air for a moment.
"How long, really, Kal?"
"....an hour...an hour...ohhhh.....arggghh.....60 minutes...sixty....owwww...minutes... maybe a little more...or a little less...around that though...an hour....okay..?...is that...okay?" The blubbering Man of Steel has drool running out of his quivering mouth, his chin rubs against his chest and his dick has gone soft.
"Yes, I get it, champ. About an hour. You made yourself clear. And that's sounds more like it. Okay, Roxie, you can finish him off. He's earned it."
"Uuhh, Lex, he's wilted. That last spike up his butt killed his boner."
"Ah well, I guess no happy ending for Superman today." The bald villain walks over to the chair holding his prize captive. "Hold the kryptonite flood lamp on him for a minute at max power, Rox."
Roxie turns up the kryptonite lamp to it's highest setting. This draws an agonized groan from the Man of Steel who jerks with pain in the manacles. His face and body blooms with even more sweat that drips down in rivulets as the lamp throws its nauseating, debilitating rays onto him. Agonized, he turns his face to the side and the dazzling green light burns against his cheek and brings yet more tears to his eyes. His body cringes as far away as possible but the straps pinning him in the chair don't give the devastated hero any real leeway. When Roxie plays the devastating green radiation lamp over the famous emblem on Superman's chest and then his stomach and exposed dick, his back arches and he screams out in pain, then slumps limply in his restraints.
"That's fine, Roxie. Let's drag his sorry ass back into the slime tub. We're done for now."
"....no....don't...noohhh....not again....not the tub...please...no," Superman whimpers in tears. "You're killing me..."
"Oh, nonsense, Kal! I'm not killing you. In fact, I'm making absolutely sure you don't die. Gosh, it's like you don't even trust me."
Luthor lets out a hearty laugh as he presses a button on the back of the chair that retracts the waist, thigh and wrist restraining bands back into the chair. Luthor quickly puts his hand on the slumping Superman's chest, pushing against the world-renowned red and yellow S emblem to prevent the ashen-faced hero from falling to the floor. He thumbs a second button on the back of the chair activating the whine of the retractable anal rod as it lowers back into the titanium chair.
After a moment, Luthor removes his hand from Superman's chest and the waxy-faced champion topples forward to the floor in a limp heap of useless muscle. The mighty hero having been rendered helpless is quickly dragged across the floor by the twosome. His bare ass quivers and bounces under the overhead lights as he's pulled along. At the edge of the brushed steel tub, the famed Last Son of Krypton is roughly hoisted up, still with his costume clustered around his thighs and his limp penis flopping against the edge of the tub. He's then dropped unceremoniously into the large slime tub, his body rolling over on his back with the curve of the tub and sinking into the thick glowing green gel with a splash and a heavy plopping noise.
After waiting several moments and humming to pass the time, Luthor finally reaches in and pulls Superman's head up by the hair out of the slimy muck. His mouth gapes open, working his lips in a distended oval like a landed trout at the edge of a lake trying to breathe. He whoops and gasps and sputters green gel everywhere. His straining face is coated in thick green slime. It thins down to a pale green film that drips steadily onto his chest. Roxie efficiently loops a steel mesh collar around his throat and hooks it to the rim of the tub to keep the gasping, weakened prisoner from drowning under the surface of the glowing green slime.
"Enjoy your rest, Superman. You were very cooperative. Just as I arranged."
The electric winch drowns out the pitiful groans of the defenseless Defender of Earth as the clear reinforced glass bubble cover slides over the twitching, trembling body, sealing him to his glowing fate for another four hours before he's cycled out of the tub for recovery time
* * *
Tony sits on the large sectional couch in the living room of his suite sipping his black coffee and just thinking through the steps of his plans for the evening. Carmine occupies the plush armchair set to Tony's left. He's drinking his own coffee and running over probable points that Don Gino Lupenzo will be making in the meeting this coming evening.
Both men begin to speak simultaneously.
"Gino's going to want..." Carmine says.
"The timing on this..." Tony declares.
Both men stop talking and look at each other and wait for the other to continue speaking. Neither does for five seconds, until Carmine finally talks.
"Sorry," he says, "What were you going to say, Tony?"
"Just that the timing this evening will be critical. We'll only have a half hour or so to get to whatever restaurant that Don Baldini chooses for the meet." The younger don sips his coffee and then sits forward slightly on the couch. "If one of Gino's guys is close by, he could plant a piece somewhere before we do."
"So could we, no?" Carmine's eyebrows hike up.
"Yeah, but I don't like the odds. Baldini is likely to choose a place on or near his turf and that's closer to Gino than to us."
"So you're thinking something in Queens?" Carmine drains his coffee as he takes in Tony's reply.
"If I were doing security, I'd sure want to be familiar with the place and Baldini owns Queens."
"So let's get one of our guys out there and have him ready to drop a piece as soon as we know the joint. We're supposed to have a half hour to show up."
"Makes sense," Tony nods. "Yeah, let's do it. Cover our bases as best we can. Send Mario, he's got a good head on his shoulders. Also, we know there will be a pat down for guns. There may even be metal detectors. Tomas is a stickler for procedure. So I'm outfitting us both with these..." Tony puts his finished coffee cup on the low table and reaches into a drawer in the end table beside the couch. He takes out two medium-sized knives with blue handles and white blades. "They're ceramic so they won't show up on a metal detector. They're not much but it's better to have something than nothing if push comes to shove."
Carmine reaches for the blade and thumbs it's edge.
"Careful!" Tony is too late as the incredibly sharp blade cuts a neat little dash in the middle of Carmine's thumb. It swells red immediately.
"Crap," says the older Don, dropping the knife on the rug and whipping out a handkerchief that he wraps around his thumb. "That is a sharp little mother!" Pulling away the bloodied cloth Carmine sucks on his thumb and stands up to head to the kitchen to wash and bandage the small cut.
Tony stands up, retrieves the sharp blade from the floor, placing it on the coffee table and then follows Carmine to the kitchen. "I'm also wondering how many guys of his own Baldini will bring."
"Does it matter?" Carmine runs the water in the sink when he gets there, letting it get very hot to better clean out the wound.
"It could. If things get messy, who knows what side Baldini's team'll come down on, Gino's or ours."
"True. We'll have to be sure things don't get messy." Carmine sticks his thumb under the water running steaming hot out of the tap. He hisses at the pain of it but keeps it there for a moment, looking up at the ceiling and counting to five. He takes it out of the stream and covers it with a paper towel.
Tony reaches into a nearby cupboard where he keeps Band-Aids and antiseptic ointment.
"I wouldn't count on that," Tony says. "Here give me your thumb." He applies the ointment and then pulls the Band-Aid tightly around Carmine's thumb.
"You sound like you want something to go down, Ton."
"I'm expecting it. That's all."
"Be careful what you wish for, Bonano," Carmine says scowling. "I really do want to walk out of this meeting alive. Don't you?"
"Of course," Tony says distractedly as he leans against the counter now, chin in hand looking down at his shoes and thinking.
"You don't sound like you do. And I don't like the vibe I'm getting here. What's going on, Tony? What have you got up your sleeve?"
"What? Oh, nothing."
Carmine grabs Tony's shoulders and gives him a good shake, his eyes boring into the younger don's with an intensity that Tony hasn't seen in years.
"Listen to me, you little fuck! I was wipin' snot off your lip before you were old enough to do it yourself. I love you like a son, Tony, but I'm not going to die for you. Now tell me what you got planned or you'll need someone else to second you at this meeting tonight."
Tony is shaken both literally and figuratively by Carmine's sudden vehemence. He looks at the man who'd been almost an absentee father through the years and sighs. Then he tells Carmine his plans. All of them.
When he's done, the older Don breaks out into a smile that lights up his whole face. Also a rare sight that Tony hasn't seen very often.
"Tony. You're a fuckin' genius! I'm in. Anyone else know?"
"Nope," grins Tony back. "Just us."
"Good. Keep it that way." Carmine nods heartily, still smiling. And then he pinches Tony's cheek. "What a thinker you turned out to be."
And then the phone rings.
"Yeah?" Tony answers the kitchen wall phone. "He is? Is this a joke? No, don't do that. Send him up. Back way. Keep it on the down low."
"What's that about?" Carmine takes a glass out of the cupboard and fills it with tap water. He's drinking it down when Tony answers.
"Sergei is on his way up. And he's drunk as a skunk."
Carmine spits the water across the kitchen.
* * *
"So, do you have a name for me?"
"No. He ain't decided yet."
"Well, push him on it. You got 100 grand of my money. I expect results."
"I can't make it obvious. My life wouldn't be worth a plug nickel."
"If I don't get that name, it's worth even less than that!"
"You'll get it. At least an hour before. That was the deal."
"If it's more than an hour you'll get more."
"How much more?
"Five grand for every hour ahead of time."
"I'll do what I can."
"You got my number."
* * *
When the soft knock comes to Tony's door, he almost doesn't hear it. He and Carmine are in the kitchen trying to decide what to do about their unexpected guest. By the louder second knock however the two don's are at the suite's front door. On the other side is the loud voice of a very drunk Russian hit man.
"This is not to be okay. I am respected member of his team. Head of security. Me. You know this, Frankie."
Shaking his head, Tony opens the door.
"Why do you not let me....TONY!" Spreading his arms wide, the six-foot hefty Russian with dyed black hair envelops his mob boss in a bear hug. The reek of vodka on his breath has Tony flinching and Carmine backing up a step. Then, when the soused Russian goes to hug the older Don, Carmine thrusts his arm out and keeps the stupidly-grinning man at bay.
"Keep off me, you drunk motherfucker. You smell like a damn distillery!"
"Da, I have had some cocktails. And by cocktails I mean a bottle of vodka and a bottle of olives in my hotel room." Sergei wavers before the two men like he's fighting a headwind.
Frankie the bouncer shrugs his shoulders and Tony waves him off with a "thanks, I'll take it from here" motion.
"What the fuck's wrong with you?" Tony faces off against Sergei hands on his hips. "You're every cop's wet dream for a collar and you're about as low-profile as Kim Kardassian with a neon ball-gag! Get in here!" He pulls the wavering Sergei into the living room and closes the suite's door.
"I was bored to tears, Tony. I had to come back. Oh and yes I was to be needing my favorite knife. I left it in my room. You have this?"
"I don't know, Sergei," Tony replies. "I cleaned your room out after your little shootout in the CVS store. Everything's been boxed up. It could be in there. I put it in lockup in the basement. Why's this knife so important that you'd risk ten years in jail anyhow?"
"Sentimental value. It was my dear sweet mother's."
Carmine and Tony just look at each other and try not to laugh at the melancholic Russian who's tearing up.
"Hey! Numbnuts!"Tony barks, bringing Sergei back from his quick drunken trip down memory lane. "You're lucky you weren't pinched in the street on the way over."
"Not me. I am like cat in fog. Completely dishcreet."
"Fucking Russian moron," growls Carmine. "You coulda brought the heat here."
"You want to have a go at me, tubby?" Sergei's dyed eyebrows rise up like two caterpillars squaring off in a cage match. The Russian faces Carmine with insulted righteousness but Tony grabs the drunken mobster's elbow and pulls him toward the bathroom. Stumbling, Sergei jitterbugs his way behind Tony.
"Hey, where are you taking me. I am to be fighting Carmine the Fat Fuck."
"No, you are to be taking a cold shower and sobering up and sleeping it off," the exasperated young don commands.
"This also is a plan. You are good at plans, Tony."
"Yeah, thanks, Sergei. That means a lot coming from a man without any. Now get in there and shower," Tony says, pushing Sergei the final few steps toward the bathroom.
With the Russian narrating his every move through the bathroom door, Tony and Carmine just look at each other and shake their heads in futility.
"....SOCKS ARE OFF..." Sergei shouts. "...ALMOST PANTS AS WELL...." "FULLY NAKED!" The sound of the shower running comes through. "....OOHH IS COLD....GETTING WET...!"
"Great timing, huh?" Carmine says with a near groan.
"The best," scowls Tony.
"...WHERE IS AMAZON WHORE TO WASH MY DICK..?..."
"She heard you were coming and killed herself," Carmine calls through the door, winking at Tony.
"HAS TO BE YOU THEN CARMINE! COME WASH MY JUNK!" The big Russian giggles loudly in the spray.
The older don's face falls like a bloodhound who's lost a bone. He looks at Tony with a sigh. "Is it too early for a drink?"
Looking at his watch, Tony sees it's just two minutes after noon. "Nope. I'll join you."
* * *
Back upstairs in the penthouse suite, Supergirl is now in her costume facing off against Wonder Woman who's dressed in her own original costume, wearing everything but her power belt. Even her indestructible Feminum bracelets adorn her wrists.
"You little twerp," Diana growls. "Take that back."
"It's only the truth, Di. Aren't you the Queen of Truth? Tony's got you whoring for him tonight while I get to be his bodyguard. It's obvious who he thinks more highly of."
"You're so dumb, you even ended that sentence with a preposition," Wonder Woman declares.
"Better than a proposition which you'll be starting the night with."
"You did it again!" Wonder Woman's face says in amazement.
"That's what he said, after you came on his face," Supergirl taunts. "In fact, with how much you drizzle, I think your Guido will need a Speedo."
She's so self-satisfied with her clever rhyming putdown of the Amazon, Supergirl doesn't even see the gut punch that drops her to a shaking knee, wheezing for air.
"Come on, blondie," says Wonder Woman, bouncing on her toes with her eyes blazing down at the gasping, pale-faced Supergirl, "say something else clever."
After 15 seconds down on one knee with her arm cradling her belly, Supergirl lifts her head. "That was not nice, Princess. And definitely not smart. There's no kryptonite around at the moment to reduce my powers. And that sucker punch wasn't playing fair."
"Oh, but calling me a whore and telling me I cum too much is, Kara?"
"If the shoe fits...." Supergirl smiles as she rises, ready to grapple with the haughty Amazon and let off a little steam. Maybe she'll take the stick out of her ass for her...via her mouth!
"You like shoes? How about mine?" Wonder Woman goes to plant her boot directly onto Supergirl's knee but the young teenager is too fast for her, easily sidestepping the announced move and countering with a hard fist into Wonder Woman's side.
"GHUUUNGH!" It's the black-haired beauty's turn to gasp and drop to one knee.
"Really, Diana? Telling an opponent your move? What is this? Geezers Get Down?"
"Why are you being so hurtful," gasps the Amazon warrior as she feathers her hand to her side to rub the harsh twitch of pain there and looks up at Supergirl.
"Why do you always think you're better than everyone?" Supergirl growls.
"Why can't you think for a change instead of just spraying everyone with your emotional vomit?"
"What!!??" Supergirl's jaw drops open in shock.
"It's true! Your super powers have always done the heavy lifting for you, Kara," Wonder Woman says, rising up and putting her hands on her hips. The two women's glares meet and their eyes widen as they face off. "You don't think things through. You rush into situations and when they don't go your way, you mess things up even more. It's common knowledge."
"And you're so practical and clear thinking you gave into Tony's demands with less pressure than your tits put on that bustier of yours!"
"I fought back as hard as I could," Wonder Woman says, her voice tight and pitched higher than usual.
"Yeah, real heroic. What was it, a whole two days?"
"You miserable little alien bitch!"
"Amazonian cock tease!"
The two women's arms fly out toward each other and each grabs a fistful of hair and begin to pull, yanking at the roots like harpies possessed. The screeching and maneuvering for position fills the living room with commotion. Very unheroic, the pair of famous females battle back and forth across the carpet, straining and grunting and swearing and yanking for all their worth. Heads are angled, eyes bulge, teeth are shown and curses are uttered.
Neither heroine gets a solid edge on the other, even as hands release hair and reach for costume waistbands and bustier edges. A golden fabric eagle is stretched out and cocoa-colored nipples pop free. A skirt is yanked down and a fresh and sweaty camel toe is exposed. In the end, after rolling around on the floor for six minutes with no clear victor, the Disgruntled Duo finally fall apart, each beauty lying on her back and gasping for air after the embittered battle.
And when both have regained their wind, Supergirl gets up and heads toward the bedroom, calling over her shoulder with heavy rancor, "Tony'll be up around two o'clock with my crack. Send him into the bedroom. Meanwhile you stay out!"
"You couldn't get me in there for all the riches of Croesus."
"I don't know who that is" Supergirl yells back, "but if he's got a cock, I'm sure you've sucked it."
"....brainless bimbo..!..." grumbles Wonder Woman as the bedroom door slams.
* * *
"Oh, hell no! You're way too hot to go to this meeting tonight, Sergei. That's final. You shouldn't even be in this building."
Tony is pacing in front of Sergei who sits on the couch in a beige and white coordinated leisure outfit of stretch pants and hoodie. He looks like a jogger from the 80s who just stopped off for a double decaf.
"But Tony, there is much I can do to help you in this meeting..." Sergei has his hand up with one finger out, ready to count off the reasons when Tony cuts him off.
"Are you nuts? I've got a Police Captain who'd love nothing more than to put the cuffs on you right here at the Dome in front of every fucking news photographer on the East Coast. It's five years of job security guaranteed! Think, Sergei. You're a wanted man."
"I threw a baby. What's so terrible?" Sergei nods at Carmine. "You have killed many people I am sure but no one calls you a monster. I don't get this. Americans and their babies." Carmine says nothing and just shakes his head at the Russian thug.
"You just stay here at the Pleasure Dome until I can smuggle you out later tonight, Sergei. What's more, I'm expecting a call any minute now from Don Baldini about final arrangements for tonight. It'll be on speaker phone. You absolutely cannot be here."
"Where can I go? Upstairs to see my old friends, perhaps? Wonder Cocksucker and Super Pussy?"
"NO! Stay away from them! I need them sharp tonight. You'll make them both too nervous."
"You have become an old maid, Tony Bonano, since I have left. You need a male role model like me to make you tough again, nyet?"
"NYET! I mean it, Sergei. Stay away from the girls. Carmine, take this master key and let him use one of the empty apartments downstairs. There's no one in Suite 36, I believe. Sergei, you stay put and stay out of trouble. I've got things running smoothly enough for the moment and...." The phone rings and Tony's eyes narrow in concentration instead of going wide in alarm. Carmine is pleased to note it and even Sergei gains respect for the young don who nods at Carmine while pulling Sergei bodily out of the armchair.
"Get him downstairs now. And take the stairs, not the elevator. Then hurry back, Carm. I'll try to stall them til you return. Move!"
"You're making a mistake, Tony. I could slide a knife in Lupenzo before he knows anything, like sticking up some grandma for a welfare check. It would be my gift to you."
"Shut him up, Carmine and get him out of here, now!!" Tony takes three long strides over to the phone and waits for a beat as Carmine closes the suite door behind them as he marches Sergei toward the fire stairs.
"I can be walking myself, thank you." Sergei shrugs off Carmine's guiding hand on his elbow and walks ahead of the portly don.
Back in the suite, on the fifth ring, Tony squares his shoulders and checks his watch. It's 12:50 p.m. He picks up the telephone's handset. "Good afternoon, Tony Bonano's residence," he says in a nasal high voice.
"This is Don Tomas Baldini. Mr. Bonano is expecting my call."
"I will get Mr. Bonano. It won't be a minute." Tony tucks the lower end of the handset under his arm and checks his watch for the time. Then keeps an eye on the door. He lets 40 seconds go by before he speaks into the phone again. Using the same high nasal tone he says, "Mr. Bonano will be with you shortly. He's just finishing up another call."
"Tell Mr. Bonano that time is money," calls Don Gino Lupenzo from the background on the other end of the line. "Lots of money. His money!"
Tony's anger notches up a bit but he controls it. After another 30 seconds, Carmine finally returns to the suite.
"I have Mr. Bonano for you now, sir," Tony says in his high nasal voice first. He makes some noise against the mouthpiece and then uses his normal voice. "Don Baldini, I apologize for the delay. It's been a busy day but I'm all yours now. Let me put you on speaker phone. I've got Don Carmine Vega here with me to discuss final preparations for tonight."
Tony and Carmine settle down side by side on the living room couch, the young don taking the phone with him, flinging out the cord and setting the device on the coffee table before them. Tony pushes the speakerphone button and puts the handset back in the cradle.
"Don Bonano, I appreciate how busy you must be with a building filled with superheroines to control. It cannot be easy. I can't imagine how much you must have to spend on steel chains and ball gags. I do hope it's not hurting your bottom line." Don Baldini's famous dry wit hasn't dulled with advanced age. His tongue is as sharp as his hidden knives always were.
"I'm doing alright, Don Baldini. I appreciate your concern of course. But as you can tell from the money I've been contributing to the Common Fund recently, my good fortune is the family's as well."
"And I appreciate that, Don Bonano," says Baldini tersely. "But your actions have drawn far too much attention to our Family. I want it stopped. I want you and Don Lupenzo to come to terms tonight once and for all. Things are unacceptable as they now stand."
"I look forward to settling matters once and for all, Don Baldini. I assure you," Tony says with a smooth earnest tone.
Baldini isn't mollified yet. "If blood is shed tonight, Don Bonano, nobody will profit." The old Don's voice is angry yet authoritative. "It will linger like a cancer on the Family and I will not let that happen. Who have you chosen as your two seconding attendants tonight?"
"I will not draw first blood tonight, Don Baldini," Tony asserts, bypassing the question for the moment. "Has Don Lupenzo promised this as well?"
"I will not break the truce, Tony," Gino Lupenzo barks on the other end of the phone. "I have upheld my end."
"I hate to disrespect you Don Baldini," Tony says with a calm cool tone, "but Don Lupenzo is a lying bastard. He broke the truce just a couple of days ago when he killed two of my soldiers in Besonhurst on a regular job, a jewelry heist."
"A heist on my turf, you arrogant prick!" Gino shouts in return.
"CHILDREN!" Don Baldini shouts over Gino, then pauses a few beats before continuing in his normal voice. "If you continue to not play nice there will be consequences. Dire consequences that I will impose on you both that everyone else in the Family from New York to San Diego will back me up on. Do I make myself clear?"
Tony and Carmine give each other a worried look. Don Baldini had played his ace in the hole. He had lined up the entire network of the Cosa Nostra to bring its full weight to bear on the outcome of this meeting. Tony's eyes shift back and forth in rapid thought. Carmine just watches him and waits.
"I understand Don Baldini," Tony finally responds. "I will play nicely with Don Lupenzo from now on if he agrees to play nicely with me."
"I will," Gino says, his tone quieter now. He too has been chided and it tells in his voice.
"Don Bonano, Don Lupenzo here has informed me that his man Basso will be attending him tonight along with a woman named Scarlett O'Shea. Who will be attending as your seconds in this negotiation?"
"I will be coming with Don Carmine Vega here," Tony says.
"Good evening, Don Baldini," Carmine offers. "And hello Don Lupenzo. I look forward to settling this matter amicably once and for all."
"Thank you, Carmine," replies Gino. It will be good to have a voice of true reason to help along the proceedings tonight."
"Don Lupenzo, you have the manners of a pig," the elder Don Baldini declares. "Don Vega used the proper form and the best you can do...well, no wonder you generate such bad blood. I hope you are better behaved this evening!"
"My deepest apologies, Don Vega," Gino rushes in obsequiously. "I meant no disrespect. Our years of familiarity obscured my manners. I deeply regret the infraction."
"No offense taken, Don Lupenzo," Carmine replies. "I look forward to sharing a good Chianti with you this evening. Our common affection for a good vintage will help smooth the final language of the terms between us, I'm sure." Carmine is the soul of diplomacy.
"And your other seconding attendant, Tony? Who is that to be," Don Baldini asks.
"I'm bringing Supergirl."
The silence on the other end of the phone is unbroken for a full ten seconds. It ticks by slowly as Tony just looks at Carmine and winks. Finally, Don Baldini speaks up.
"I see. The one who engendered this whole misunderstanding in the first place. Well, it should prove most interesting to meet the young woman. If I may ask, Don Bonano. How will she be of assistance to you if she is strictly bound and gagged as I must insist she be?"
"I had not intended to restrain her in any way, Don Baldini," Tony replies. "Why would I?"
"Why would you?" Gino Lupenzo blurts out in exasperation on the other end. "Don Vega, you cannot support this plan? You are a reasonable man. Tell your protege he is a mad...he is most mistaken if he believes I will accept her as a second if she is in no way restrained."
"I have to agree with Don Lupenzo on this matter, Don Bonano," Baldini interjects. "She is an uneven force at such a negotiation. I cannot allow it."
"That seems unfair to me but I understand your position. In fact, I anticipated it. I will have a restraining collar put on Supergirl with kryptonite embedded within it. It has proven most effective in curtailing her powers almost instantaneously, gentlemen. She will wear this collar tonight and to you, Don Baldini, I will provide the remote control. Will that suffice?"
"It will to me," Baldini answers, "after I see it tested before the meeting proceeds, during the security screening. Is that alright with you Don Lupenzo?"
"I can live with that I suppose."
"Will there be anything else, gentlemen," Tony asks. "I have many things to attend to before tonight."
"Just a few final details, Don Bonano," Baldini continues. "You will get a call from my office 30 minutes before to inform you of where the meeting will take place. I want both of you to come to the table tonight prepared to come to a negotiated conclusion to this mess and for the family to get back to a quiet, lower profile from tomorrow on. There will be no firearms allowed by either party and you will be aggressively searched, I assure you. This WILL be a fair and if not amicable then at least non-violent event," Baldini declares in cold vehement tones. "If things get out of hand I have the full authority of the families to impose the harshest penalties possible. I and my two men WILL be carrying firearms to impose such penalties on the spot. Now are there any further questions?"
"No, sir. Not from me," Tony states.
"Nor I," replies Gino.
"I look forward to bringing this matter to a peaceful and beneficial end to all concerned," Carmine.
"Well said, Don Vega. And I as well. I will see you later tonight. Goodbye." The phone clicks off and Tony leans forward, pushing the speaker button and ending the call from his end.
"Nothing we didn't expect," Carmine said.
"Nope," Tony nodded. "Now I'm going to go up and give the girls their drugs. We've got at least four hours before we're going to hear anything I'd say. You should try to catch some shut eye if you can. It could be a long night, Carmine."
"Good idea, Tony." See you around 3:30 or so, just to be on the safe side."
* * *
"You got the place?"
"Yeah. It's 1:30 now. That's three hours ahead of schedule. So you owe me..."
"....fifteen grand extra. Yeah, I can do the math. I'm good for it. You know that. Give me the name."
"It's a place called Anatra! With an exclamation point. It's in Queens just like you expected. It's 42 Vernon Boulevard in Long Island City. Hunter's Point section."
"Hmmpf... that area's pretty trashy."
"But it's quiet which is what's Tomas wants. Plus, it's right on the edge of gentrification. This is a new joint that opened up two months ago. Good food I'm told. The owner's a friend of Don Baldini. The name? It's Italian. It means...."
"Right, the specialty of the house."
"But not the verb."
"Never mind. Thanks for this. You're payment will be delivered later tonight as we discussed."
"One hundred and fifteen grand."
"Like I said, I can do the math, Frankie."
"Hey! No fuckin' names."
"This is a secure line. I wouldn't worry about it."
Don Gino Lupenzo hung up the phone and smiled. He would have Tony Bonano's head on a platter tonight. Shot dead in an Italian restaurant just the way Gino had killed old man Bonano. If Carmine played it smart, he'd live through it. Carmine he could work with. Carmine wasn't an impatient greedy fuck.
"Duck," muttered the old don who then chuckled at the name. It would be a verb after all, but Tony wouldn't find that out until it was way too late.
* * *
Supergirl paces the penthouse's bedroom like a caged tiger. She walks the circuit incessantly, from the tall dresser to the bedroom door and from there to the mirrored closet door. After a quick glance and seeing only her own furtive blue eyes reflected back at her, the anxious beauty recoils at their haunted look, then paces to the foot of the bed and than back to dresser. Her footprints in the plush carpet show her beaten path in the shifting light through the bedroom window.
"He should be here by now with my crack. I hope Tony isn't taking all his time handing over the heroin to that Amazon hussy. She's probably thanking him with a quick hummer, that obsequious cow!"
In the living room of the two heroines' suite, Tony is not getting any such favorable treatment. He has called Carlo from his room to give him instructions for the evening and to provide Wonder Woman with her heroin kit for the afternoon. The small zippered leather case has been prepared by Tony with medium grade heroin that will give the Amazon a wonderful buzz but not incapacitate her to the point of incoherence. He needed her to be able to deal with the john during the evening festivities while he was off at the big meeting. He didn't want her too bleary eyed and disoriented from too strong a dose of heroin. Things had to go his way tonight and if Wonder Woman was not on her game, it could throw a monkey wrench in his plans.
"Wonder Woman, you remember Carlo. He took Stevie's place. He's been recording your most recent performances and handling the editing and promotional trailers for your DVD series. Carlo, this is Wonder Woman."
Carlo has been appraising the Amazonian princess in the flesh. He's been watching her for countless hours on recordings sucking off mob johns with her bobbing head and busy mouth, focusing on shots where she's letting them cum on her massive naked tits or taking a hard stiff dick in her ass, but for all that, her physical presence in the room with him is still nothing less than breathtaking. Even though she's lost weight and her costume sags on her butt and under her tits like it never had before and her pallor was a bit peaked, she was still a stunning woman in person.
"I'm so pleased to finally meet you, Wonder Woman," The short stocky videographer bows and kisses the back of her hand that he unexpectedly grabs from her side. "You are a goddess."
"And you are a maggot."
"Princess..." Tony growls. "We've discussed this kind of behavior.
"A charming maggot," Wonder Woman adds as she pulls her hand away from the bowing Carlo before he can drool on it any more.
"Now act nice," Tony commands. "Carlo's in charge. I'm going back to see Supergirl." Tony makes his way toward the rear of the suite where the bedroom is located.
Diana suddenly notices the leather kit that Carlo is holding in his other hand and she licks her lips in eager anticipation. "Oh, is that for me, that little leather case there?" Wonder Woman goes to pull it out of Carlo's hands but he pulls it back and holds it behind his back.
"Ah, ah, ah, Princess," Carlo chides, his smile broad but not friendly in the least. "It's yours but not quite yet. I'd like to see a much nicer attitude."
"And I'd like a villa in the south of France," declares the Amazon. "Life is full of disappointments."
"One of those disappointments is going to be you bent over with dry heaves and the running sweats from withdrawal if you don't work with me, you stuck up bitch. You heard Tony. Act nice to me. I know how much you need this shit," Carlo says, rocking the leather case over his head to taunt the heroine with the angry eyes.
"I could just take that from you, you know, Carlo. I am still Wonder Woman and you're just some pipsqueak with a Napoleon complex." The tall Amazon moves her body into Carlo's personal space, her huge breasts right against his chin as she grips his shoulder in her palm, squeezing it hard.
"I suppose you could do that, pin me against a wall and just pull this kit from me without me being able to put up much of a fight," Carlo says, surprisingly calm despite the dominating move by the big woman. "Sure, that could happen, but if you did that, I'd have to tell Sergei to come up here and discipline you."
"Sergei's long gone, you weasel," Diana says tossing her hair back over her shoulders with a flaunty shake of her head. "And you're beginning to bore me. Give me that case now so I can shoot up."
"You should stay more in touch with what's going on around here, Princess. Sergei is downstairs right now. You want me to get him? I'm sure he could adjust your attitude right quick."
"S...S...Sergei is here? In the building now?" Wonder Woman's face drains of all color and she takes an awkward step back, her eyes darting around for a weapon, even though she has a fake lasso hanging on her hip, her original tiara and her real bracelets. It doesn't feel like its enough. Nothing feels like it's enough when it comes to that Russian monster.
"You bet your ass, Wonder Woman. He's even asking for you, I hear."
"...m..mm..mhh....meee....?" The whine in the famous beauty's voice is unmistakable and Carlo is overjoyed at her reaction to the news.
"That's what I hear. Now do you think you can act nice to me now, junkie. Tony did okay this lovely little dose of primo horse. And we both know you're dying to use it."
"..w...what do you want..." murmurs the chastened champion, her eyes on the carpet and her posture clearly defeated.
"Not much really? Just pull down your top and then finger your pussy for me."
Wonder Woman's head slowly lifts. Her eyes are hesitant, her lip quivering. "And...and you'll give me the heroin if I do."
"Of course. Fair's fair, Princess. I'm an easy man to please. Oh, and you'll let me fuck you, of course, after I let you shoot up. That's a given."
"...of course it is..." Wonder Woman looks abjectly at Carlo and the case he holds out to her, just a foot from her reach.
"So, do we have a deal, addict?"
"..yes...it's a deal...." mumbles the raven-haired woman, her voice barely audible.
"Speak up please, whore," Carlo demands.
"Yes! Everything you want for that case."
"Excellent. Now let's see those titties, champ. Nice and slow now."
Sullenly, Wonder Woman puts her left hand to the top of her bustier and grabs the gold fabric eagle there. She slowly pulls it downward and the cleavage gets bigger and bigger. More and more of her breasts are shown, their creamy shapes revealed, their rounded curves expanding as Wonder Woman takes a deep nervous breath, filling her lungs to capacity. And then the areolae peek out, their cocoa upper crescents slowly growing as the red and gold fabric is tugged away in a slow withdrawal that has Carlo's mouth watering. Just then the dark brown nipples appear. They are flat but nicely-sized for that, and as the fabric pulls against them in a final tug by Wonder Woman, they spring to proud upward-pointing attention, not engorged but slightly stimulated. The bustier is pulled down further and the mighty 44-inch globes are now fully exposed, their roundness jiggling lightly from their release from fabric captivity.
Carlo's widened eyes are fixed on the Amazon's chest and his mouth is slack with dumbstruck appreciation. He gulps, licks his lips and says, "Work the nipples, please."
Though glaring at him, Wonder Woman complies. Both thumbs and forefingers on both hands reach up and tweak and pull at the sensitive nubs, stretching the big breasts into slight conical shapes before releasing them to shimmy and wobble in the open air.
"There! Happy?" Wonder Woman releases the nipples and puts her hands on her hips, letting her chest bobble freely for the young Italian twerp before her.
"Definitely enjoying myself. You?"
"Not til you give me that case."
"Part Two, Princess. Don't forget that. Put those fingers in your pussy and go to town."
"You little creep. If I didn't....if that man weren't...if Tony hadn't...."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Life's so unfair. Boo hoo. Now pull that crotch open and let me see the famous Champion of All Women fingerfuck herself to a climax."
"A climax?!! You never said...I never agreed to...to..that!"
"You think I just wanted to see your fingers get a little wet, bitch?" Carlo barks out a rude laugh. "Hell no! I want to see your cum draining down your thighs like a leaky faucet. The sooner you start the sooner you get your reward." He holds the case up and wiggles it in Wonder Woman's face from four feet away.
Defeated by her need for the drug and her long slide into submission at the hands of the Mob and by the underlying terror of Sergei back in the building, Wonder Woman pulls aside the crotch of her blue panties with her left hand. The wrinkled white star folds in on itself as the fabric is pulled away and the heroine's fleshy labial lips are revealed. The fingers on her right hand begin to slide up and down the crease of her pussy in slow nervous strokes. Cameras all around the penthouse, set to automatic, record the humiliating moment for posterity. It's just one more rung down on the ladder of Wonder Woman's descent into moral oblivion.
Unbidden by Carlo, she picks up her pace, wanting to be done with this so she can plunge her tormented brain into the drifting freedom of uncaring drugged lassitude. It calls to her as she rubs her twat vigorously now, the fingers stroking up and down in a blur as Carlo watches her willingly abuse herself for his entertainment. The glistening gap between her now shaking thighs gleams in the light as Wonder Woman begins to chew her lips, pant and waver in place.
"Yeah, there she goes. Gettin' into the rhythm, aren't you, cunt?"
"Shut up, dork. I'm trying to concentrate here," Diana snaps, raising her head to look at him now as she plunges her fingers back and forth into her juicy opening with manic determination. Her eyes, after staring darts at him suddenly lose focus though. The lids droop a bit as if weighted down. She is nearing her climax. Two fingers of one hand plunge in and out of the lower edge of the assaulted pussy as the fingers on her other hand twiddle away at her clit.
"...uuhhnnnn...." Wonder Woman moans as she applies herself completely to her task. Her knees are slightly bent, her upper torso is lowered horizontally now with her head down and her dark hair obscuring her face. The massive naked breasts sway and swing in place as the fevered beauty works herself into to a sexual lather. Drizzling rivulets of her shining juices edge down her thighs as Wonder Woman's moans turn to sighs and whimpers. Her hands are a blur in her crotch and the tiara on her head falls off onto the carpet. Wonder Woman freezes in places and groans out the helpless yawning crescendo of her need.
A spritzing spray of cum mists the air between her thighs as the dazed champion peaks in place, her fingers sopping wet and dripping with her pleasure. Dark spots show on the carpet as the hoped for deluge of Wonder Woman's cum drains down her thighs and collects inside her boots. She sways weakly in place, her head lowered to mid-thigh height as she tries not to pitch forward onto her face. She's only half successful and goes down on her knees and then to all fours, moaning and panting there before Carlo and the cameras.
"....ohhhhhhhhh......" She'd put far too much of herself into this display and she realizes it. Carlo would have been satisfied with an hors d'oeuvre of just a small jerk and lip quiver. Instead she gave him the full course dinner, including the soup course. Dazedly, she collects herself and stands up, her tits still naked and her pussy showing as the crotch of her panties hasn't snapped back into place.
"Nice! Very nice." Carlo tucks the small leather case under his chin and applauds the demonstration of complete debasement he'd been thrilled to receive. After six resounding slaps of his hands together, he tosses the case to Wonder Woman who fumbles the catch and drops it onto the carpet. She bends down to hastily pick it up and her tits droop below her like a dairy cow at milking time. Carlo is beaming at the sight and when the distracted Amazon finally straightens up and gathers her wits about her, she frowns at her exposed state. She pulls her costume together, running her damp fingers inside the crotch and straightening out that fabric and then pulling up her bustier so it covers her tits.
Without a word, Wonder Woman walks over, sits down on the couch and unzips the case to prepare herself for the desperately needed shot of heroin. Carlo takes a seat in the armchair four feet away and just watches her as she goes about her business with the kit. This ought to be interesting to see.
End of Chapter 70
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