Daughter, Lover, Superheroine Ch. 02

[This story is set in Paragon City, taken from the former MMO game City of Heroes. All place names, hero names and registered trademarks belong to their rightful legal owners and are not intended as copyright infringement in any way. This work is purely meant as a piece of entertainment, and not for commercial purposes in any way, shape or form.]

[There are incestuous elements in this story, between mothers and adult daughters.]

[The precursor to this series is entitled "Mom the Superheroine".]

The veins began to stand out on Cindy's shaking arms.

"Resist... must... resist..." she grunted. Slowly, her hands moved back, away from the quivering mounds of Barbara's sweat-streaked breasts. The amethyst on her Collar began to glow again. She would not be an instrument of her mother's defeat -- she refused to be!

Rita snarled in frustration. "Joder! You're strong, I'll give you that. I'll break you in properly later. But as for you... you puta madre," she chuckled at the joke, "you're mine!"

Barbara whimpered. Her body was giving way, her mind was losing control. Her darling Cindy was so brave, and strong... to be able to resist Sensualita like that... "I'm her mother... but why can't I be as strong for her as she is for me?" she thought, filled with self-recrimination. And she could see plainly how every muscle on Cindy's body was tensed to resist Rita's mental commands, how even the veins were standing out on those strong lovely arms...

Then she felt it -- the constant, unending grinding of pussy against pussy -- one final push of clit on clit -- and she came.

Barbara Beck, Battler Babe, bucked and bounced her entire body, screaming and moaning with an earth-shattering orgasm that seemed to go on and on.

Rita's eyes rolled back into her head in delirious pleasure, even as Cindy cried out in despair. Through her haze of unwanted ecstasy, Barbara could feel it -- her strength, her physical power, flowing almost like an actual stream out of her pussy into Rita's, as if their mashed-together mounds formed a conduit. Her will, too, was draining out the same way -- everything that made her a superheroine. Rita was somehow sucking it and taking it for herself, for as long as the orgasm went on.

Finally, Rita released Barbara's legs, which flopped uselessly onto the floor with a meaty splat. Barbara was only left with vestiges of her energy, her powers. Her entire body, especially her defeated pussy, was buzzing and tingling with desire, with hunger.

Rita stood, stretched, and flexed. She seemed almost to glow. The fluids gleamed all over her waist and thighs, testament to the victory she had just won.

"You are mine now," she announced, with a cruel twist of her lips. "Your powers will be mine, for a while -- and now that I have overcome your womanhood with my own, we have a connection. The connection of slave to Mistress! And the next time you cum, slave Barbie, I'll get a nice tribute of energy from you again. Only fitting, for a slave to nourish her Mistress this way!"

She basked in their horror for some moments, then beckoned with a finger. "Come, slave Barbie!"

Barbara could barely summon the strength to slowly clamber onto her hands and knees. Cindy was only a few feet away, on her knees. She so desperately wanted to reach out, to touch her mother, to give her comfort and support. But neither woman could even do that at the moment.

For her part, Barbara was overcome with chagrin and humiliation. She couldn't even raise her head to look Cindy in the eye. Yet again... yet again, she had been made to look weak in front of her adoring daughter. To lose like this... in a sexual duel... the very seat of her womanhood, overcome and overwhelmed by her opponent's sexual prowess...

And of course, the defeat was also on the battlefield of the mind. Rita's psychic lances had penetrated the armor of Barbara's mental and emotional defenses, expertly exploiting all the points of weakness, locating all the chinks with almost ludicrous ease. There were so very many, after all. Her doubts, her insecurities, her anxiety over her relationship with Cindy, her own repressed longings...

So now, here she was, crawling on the floor of Sensualita's Dungeon of Debasement, towards what looked like a torture machine setup.

Rita was standing beside what seemed to be a metal frame, with chains and cuffs attached. In the middle of the frame, there was a Sybian saddle -- a black leather saddle, with a large black... thing... sticking up prominently in the middle. Beneath it was the machinery that, when activated, would cause the saddle and the intimidating black dildo to vibrate.

"Behold, the final instrument of your defeat," Rita proclaimed. "The Sybian Subjugator! With this device, you will become a living battery for me. Your daughter's will remains unbroken -- but not for long! You, slave Barbie, will help me break it, by feeding me your strength until she lies defeated before me!"

Barbara tried to scream a refusal, but her mind was clouded by a pink haze. This was all wrong -- her own strength, used to aid her enemy and enable the domination of her daughter? This was a travesty!

There was nothing she could do. She was helpless to resist Rita's next orders. Moving slowly -- she had never felt so weak and drained, her limbs had never felt so rubbery -- she mounted the saddle, and began to lower herself onto the phallus.

The ribbed attachment filled her up completely, and then some. She felt herself stretching to accommodate it, and her vaginal walls clamped involuntarily around the intrusive silicone appendage. The swirl of sensual stimulation made her swoon.

"Raise your arms!" her new Mistress commanded, and she did so. A pair of metal cuffs on chains dangled above her. Rita snapped them securely around her wrists, and then worked a counterweight mechanism, pulling Barbara's hands up further -- now Barbara's breasts were stretched upwards, and her entire torso too.

Next, Rita pulled Barbara's shapely, muscular legs straight out to the sides, forcing her to perform a full split -- with her recently improved flexibility, it was not too painful for Barbara, but she felt keenly the degradation of this position. Her ankles, too, were cuffed and chained.

Now her body formed an inverted "T", stretched out on full lewd display, while the phallic penetrator held her firmly in place. If she were at full strength, the chains could as well be made of papier-mâché -- but as it was, they were as strong to her as titanium was to a normal human being.

Rita stood back to survey her handiwork, and clapped with delight. "This is quite the milestone for me," she crowed. "My very first superheroine captured! And a two in one deal, to boot! I shall have to order a few more of these, for future slave trophies!"

There was another Sybian Subjugator set up just adjacent to Barbara. Barbara felt a thrill of apprehension run through her -- of course Rita meant to do the same to Cindy! The thought was unbearable -- the two of them, side by side, on obscene display, the first exhibits in Sensualita's gallery of perversion!

Cindy was struggling to her feet. Perspiration covered every inch of her body. Veins stood out not only on her arms now, but also across her chest and along her upper thighs.

Rita took a step towards her. "Kneel!" she commanded, pointing an imperious finger.

But Cindy did not kneel. The amethyst at her neck was almost incandescent. She was breathing deeply, raggedly, furiously.

"Release... my... mother!" she growled hoarsely.

Rita frowned, suddenly looking uncertain. "No... no, this can't be."

Wild hope suddenly fluttered in Barbara's heart. Her splendidly, gloriously strong daughter was putting up a fight -- somehow, she was fighting off the mental control exerted by that vile Collar!

"Fight it, Cindy!" she exhorted silently. "I guess you're stronger than me, after all -- at least, your mind is!" She had every reason to be proud of her daughter -- she only wished that she didn't have to be ashamed of herself!

Then Cindy showed herself once more to be worthy of her mother's pride. With a mighty yell, she drew herself up to her full height, eyes ablaze, every muscle strained rigidly. And the amethyst at her neck shattered into pieces! The collar fell off onto the floor, a useless piece of junk.

"Impossible!" Rita's hand flew to her mouth. She was aghast. "This... this cannot be! Puta madre!"

With her sheer force of will, Battleborn had defeated the Collar of Compliance!

But it had taken a lot out of her. Cindy slumped, her muscles relaxing. She stood, panting with fatigue, trembling finely all over. But when she met Barbara's gaze, she squared her shoulders with renewed resolve.

"I will never obey you, Sensualita!" she declared. "Your dastardly Collar won't work on me again! Now, let my mother go and come quietly!"

"You fool! You think you can defy my will?" Rita snarled, her face reddening with anger. With a quick flick of a switch, she activated the Sybian Subjugator.

Barbara moaned, long and loud. The sound filled the entire room, along with the thrum of the machine. The vibrations coursed all the way through every inch of her pelvic floor -- her vulva, her entire vaginal channel, even her anus. She felt her whole body shaking in tandem with the Subjugator. And even more insidiously, she felt the initial stirrings of another shattering climax.

"Nooo... noooooo..." she moaned.

"Hang on, Mom," Cindy urged her. "I'll get you off that thing!" She bunched up her fists, and prepared to leap at Rita.

But Rita put her hands to her temples and once again channeled her psychic energies into an invisible beam of force. Now Cindy felt the full brunt of her power -- previously, Rita had split her attention between both women, but now with Barbara's will broken and with her safely perched on the Sybian Subjugator, she was free to attempt to dominate Cindy woman to woman, one on one.

Cindy's approach slowed. It almost looked as if she were a normal person walking against gale-force winds in a storm. Each step took longer than the last. Finally, just a few steps away from Rita and Barbara, she sank onto one knee, unable to continue her advance.

But she was heartened to see that Rita was now also sweating and showing signs of strain.

"Submit to me!" the villainess demanded, but her shrill voice lacked the subliminal sense of authority it had previously conveyed.

"Never!" Cindy shot back.

This was a battle of wills. It was Rita's mind that had kept the both of them in check so far, preventing them from simply overpowering her with their far-superior bodies. The connection between mind and body was very real, after all -- if one could dominate the mind, the body could be vanquished. Mind over matter, as the concept was widely understood.

But it also worked the other way round, Cindy realized. It was a proven fact that adopting more confident body language had a real, measurable effect on the body's hormonal production -- even simply adopting any sort of "power stance" was sufficient to boost levels of confidence and self-assurance, which was useful before, say, public speaking events.

This was why dominatrices like Rita wore heels and stood in specific stances, after all! The overt display of dominance was what made their slaves respond accordingly with the corresponding postures of submissiveness. And it was also why superheroes, including Barbara and Cindy, stood in the classic superhero stance, arms akimbo -- hands on hips, fists balled confidently, feet slightly more than shoulder width apart.

It was also why Cindy felt so good at the mere thought of flexing and posing for her mother's enjoyment. The suggestion of strength was a sort of strength, itself.

That was the key, then, to winning this contest of wills -- if Rita so badly wanted them to behave submissively, then Cindy would fight back by acting dominantly!

She curled her veined arms up into a double-biceps flex. "My mother is the strongest mother in the world," she stated, "and I'm proud to be her daughter! Your tricks may have set us back for a while, but we're not defeated yet, not as long as I can still fight you!"

"What a musclehead you are," Rita laughed mockingly. "Your oversized muscles are useless against my psychic powers!"

"They are not!" Cindy replied swiftly. "These muscles, that my mom gave me -- they give me the strength needed to defeat villains like you!"

She could feel it -- it was working! With every passing moment that she held the flex, her resolve was growing, rising up within her, against the blanketing force that was Rita's externally-imposed compulsion. She saw, too, how her mother's eyes were lighting up, and she smiled up at Barbara, flexing even harder.

But Rita stepped in front of her. "I will break you, my sweet slave Cindy," she promised. "And my conquest of you will be all the sweeter for the struggle you put up. First, defeating your mother in front of you; now, defeating you in front of your mother. This will make my victory over you total!"

She reached for Cindy's wrists, and gripped them firmly. Then, grimacing with effort, she began pulling at them, trying to straighten out Cindy's arms.

Ordinarily there would have been no contest. But Cindy groaned as she felt her arms unbend slightly. She had to step up her efforts to maintain the flex.

It was a large portion of Barbara's strength, stolen from her with that pussy-battle, that now flowed through Rita's muscles. Cindy herself was extremely tired, and her recuperative powers were being dampened by Rita's mind control.

Slowly, inch by inch, Rita pulled Cindy's forearms outwards, until Cindy's arms were flexed at right angles. Cindy fought Rita to a standstill, striving with all her might to give up no further ground. She could feel the physical strain palpably affecting her will. Rita's will was once again clamping down harder on hers, like a fist closing around her psyche. She had to flex her arms inwards even more if she was to prevail.

Rita was sweating and grunting as well. Her lithe dancer's muscles were strained to the max, bulging out on her graceful limbs and her lean torso.

"You... cannot endure this... for much longer," she gasped. "Give it up... you cannot win..."

"You're wrong," Cindy replied, through clenched teeth. "My mother... taught me... to never give up! She gives me strength... every single day... strength to defeat people... like you!"

Rita laughed breathlessly. "Ah, but... whose strength is it... giving me power now, Cindy? It's... your mother's! Your beloved mother... who was just defeated by me!"

"Not yet! Not as long... as I can still fight! We fight together... and we're... stronger... together!" Cindy's voice rose into a yell. She took a deep breath, and with a roar, she pulled. Her arms moved back inwards, and her biceps bunched up again. She was winning!

Then there was a sound, a sound that made Cindy's eyes go wide with shock and dismay, and made Rita throw her head back and laugh uproariously in triumph.

"NooooooooOOOOOHHHHH!"

Barbara jerked and shuddered, rattling her chains. Her head lolled about, and her jaw hung slack. Every muscle on her body stood out in stark relief, not in strength... but in abject surrender.

She had been straining and straining to keep her raging desire under control, to calm the orgasmic tempest in her loins. Every moment had been spent fighting to deny the physical stimulation forced on her by the Sybian Subjugator.

But there she was: her pride and joy, the greatest accomplishment of her life, the single best thing Barbara Beck had helped to bring into the world. When she looked at her daughter and heard her words... when she saw how Cindy remained unbent, unbowed, utterly unbroken even after everything Rita had tried on her... and that flex! That mighty, irresistibly sexy flex... Cindy's biceps balling up into hard, bulging lumps...

It was too much for her. She couldn't stop it anymore. Even though she was aware that with her orgasm Rita would be rejuvenated with yet another surge of power drained from her, she just didn't have the willpower to prevent it.

And so she hung, limbs stretched out, vagina violated, head bowed, weeping brokenly in shame, body wracked by the throes and tremors of her betrayal.

"Mom..." Cindy whispered, eyes wide, lips trembling.

"My obedient slave," Rita said, smiling. She took a deep breath, and pulled. Cindy's arms went nearly straight. Once again, she was on the brink of defeat.

"Mmm... feel that," Rita purred. "Think on it, Cindy! You say you draw strength from your mother... but she's given it to me, instead! This is your mother's strength you feel now, in my muscles... overcoming yours!"

Cindy bared her teeth and strained, flexing with every ounce of strength she had left. "It isn't your fault, Mom!" she thought, sadly. "No woman can be expected to hold out against... against that thing, and especially after your fight with her!"

But she had to fight back the sense of betrayal. Her mighty mother... her lifelong idol...

And now Rita, with her much slimmer arms, took a deep breath, and yelled, jerking on Cindy's arms with all her might. Cindy's strength failed -- with her own mother's strength pit against hers, even she could not win. She groaned in defeat, as her elbows unbent completely and her arms went straight out. She had lost -- her muscles had been overcome.

She felt her willpower draining away, as Rita held on to her wrists and loomed over her, sweat streaks visible on the round mounds of her heaving breasts. Cindy's stance of power was broken. On the battlefield of their minds, Rita's will was surging against her mental walls anew, and her defenses were beginning to crumble.

"Now, it is time for your ultimate surrender," Rita breathed. Her tongue flicked out and touched the tip of Cindy's nose, collecting a bead of sweat that had gathered there.

Before Cindy could react to that affront, Rita pulled hard, the muscles of her entire torso rippling, and yanked Cindy's whole body to the side, jerking her off-balance. With snake-like speed, she threw herself over Cindy's struggling form, subduing it with consummate wrestling skill. Augmented by Barbara's energy, her muscles were more than a match for Cindy's exhausted ones. Within moments, she had Cindy trapped. Cindy lay immobilized on her side, with both her arms stretched out and pinned together at the wrist by Rita's left hand. Both of Rita's sensuously writhing thighs were clamped tightly around Cindy's more thickly-muscled right leg.

This exposed Cindy's entire body to Barbara's pained gaze. Barbara had to keep blinking away tears of chagrin. It was her fault -- hers! She had cum, against her will, not once but twice! And each time, it fed and fortified their foe against her darling daughter! There were no words to describe how deep this shame ran.

As Cindy struggled fruitlessly, Rita fondled her breasts with her free right hand. "Mmm... nice and soft," she chuckled throatily. "Just the right size, too -- it fits right into my palm. Such perfection you've produced for me, slave Barbie. I can feel the firmness of the chest muscle underneath your softness, too -- you've worked out long and hard, haven't you, to make your body such a prize for me, slave Cindy? Your diligence shall be rewarded, my dear! And this little nub... mmm... delectable!" She plucked delicately at Cindy's swollen pink nipple.

Barbara could not even muster the will to protest -- it took all her concentration to stifle her moans, with the seemingly endless waves of pleasure assaulting her subjugated body. But Cindy wriggled and squirmed. "Let go of me!" she yelped. "Stop... stop this! You perverted... sadist! Stop at once!" Her eyes were wide with outrage, and her face was flushed -- but with anger, or pleasure? Or both?