The Scarlet Dove - Issue 06

Mac slid his cock back and forth in her mouth, as she tried to massage his rigid tool with her velvet tongue. She gagged on every thrust as the bulbous head was forced into her throat. Soon she could taste his precum as it mixed with her saliva turning into a stringy slime.

Humiliation burned in the young woman's chest as she was forced to blow the common street thug. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, whether from the fear and shame of her situation, or simply the repeated gagging, even she wasn't sure.

With no other choice, she sucked vigorously, hoping to finish this quickly... perhaps they'd let her go once she had a belly full of their cum ... the thought sent a shudder down her spine.

Mac groaned, coiling his hand in her crimson locks and shoving his cock all the way in! Starling choked, her green eyes flaring open in alarm, and feeling him spray hot sticky jiz down her throat. He pulled out slowly, stings of saliva streaming from her soft lips as she coughed and sputtered.

Twotime and Willy released her arms at last, no doubt to argue over who got her next, and the young heroine fell forward onto her hands. The warm, sloshy feeling of Mac's cum in her stomach made her want to throw up.

Hearing another pair of pants being undone, Starling looked up to find Willy's willy poised before her pretty face. He wasn't even hard yet.

"Gonna have to get me started," he chuckled.

With some hesitation, she opened her mouth and accepted the partially flaccid member. She suckled at it gently, trying to coax it into a full erection. It did not take long. Her stomach twisted, feeling the cock swelling and growing rigid in her mouth.

Starling was bobbing her head, tonguing his shaft, and soon had another mouthful of hard, stiff cock. In a curious moment of detachment, she noted that Willy tasted remarkably different than Mac, before this thought gave way to recognition of the simple, brutal fact that she was now servicing a second man in rapid succession ... which in turn reminded her she had yet one more to go, bringing her degradation to a new low.

Willy's cock was hot and stiff, sliding back and forth in her slick little mouth. Her full lips caressed the shaft as she sucked him in deeper. Unlike Mac, Willy seemed content to let her do all the work, which was actually somewhat better for the humiliated heroine, as she found a comfortable rhythm. She licked and slurped, feeling his rod growing more tense and rigid by the moment. Spit and precum began to seep between her ruby lips, dripping down her chin and onto her naked tits. She felt his cock quiver and flinch and then he was cumming! Instinctively Starling gulped down the first few spurts, but then Willy pulled back out of her mouth. The girl didn't even have time to be surprised as the thug grabbed his cock, stroking vigorously and spraying cum onto her face and mask.

Starling turned away, rocking back onto her butt as the viscous semen splattered over the side of her face and mask. Her stomach lurched in disgust, and she reached up to try and wipe away the thick cum. Feeling it slimy and stringy between her fingers, the denigrated heroine burned with shame.

"You bastards," she whispered, swallowing a miserable sob.

"Heads up, bitch, you got one left!"

Starling turned to see that Twotime had completely removed his pants and underwear already. Absently she observed he had chicken legs, but his cock was long, thick and fully erect. The pretty redhead let her face fall into her hands as he sauntered toward her. He grabbed a handful of her scarlet hair, forcing her to face his cock.

"Please don't make me ..." Starling whimpered, looking up at him.

"Too late," he replied, forcing his raging hard-on into her mouth!

The young woman moaned helplessly, feeling the heat of his rock hard rod between her lips. Twotime began to thrust in and out, fucking her pretty mouth hard. He kept hold of her hair, yanking as he thrust. Starling grabbed his wrist with one hand and tried to brace against his thigh with the other, but it was no use. She gagged and choked with no hope of keeping up with his rhythm. She took it as long as she could, before finally pushing as hard as she could with her hands and pulling her face away long enough to gasp in a quick breath.

Showing no sympathy whatsoever, Twotime slapped her, quick and sharp, then shoved his cock between her lips once more. Starling whimpered miserably but could do nothing. She could only kneel in abject submission, slack-jawed as the stiff cock pumped over her tongue, jabbing the back of her throat. Twotime seemed to like it that way, judging from his satisfied groans. When she felt again that she was about to suffocate and just couldn't take any more, the young woman pulled away to gasp in another too-short-breath, and then she received another brutal slap in the face, just as expected.

His cock thrust back into her mouth almost immediately. Her jaw was beginning to ache by the time his grip tightened in her silky mane, and his pumping became irregular, erratic ... and with an ironic flare of hope, she realized he must be getting close! She reached for his cock with her tongue, although at that pace she couldn't imagine it made much difference, and found herself gazing up at his face. He seemed especially tall, looming over her that way, and when they locked eyes she felt utterly small, completely weak and helpless.

The next moment he was gushing. The young redhead winced as her mouth was once more flooded with warm, salty cum. Twotime yanked her forward, keeping himself lodged all the way down her throat as he went on cumming, and so she had no choice but to swallow it all. She felt the gooey jiz sliding down her throat, mingling with the other two men's ejaculate.

Oh gawd, I'm supposed to be a superheroine, she thought in anguish. But they've turned me into nothing more than their own personal cum-dumpster!

Once she'd gulped down every drop, Twotime let go of her hair. She fell back, turning to her side and curling into a fetal position. She felt nauseous from the warm, slimy cum sloshing around in her stomach.

She found it embarrassing to admit, but normally she liked the taste of cum, even getting turned on by swallowing her boyfriends' semen (when she had one). This was obviously different, with no intimacy, no positive emotions; these men had just used her as a tawdry cumdump.

It seemed all she could was pray they would let her go, now that she had served their desired purpose.

Chapter Three

Wallowing in her shame, Starling simply lay there on the cold, dirty floor, wondering what would happen next. Mac, Willy and Twotime apparently need a few moments to collect themselves as well, after expending so much of themselves down her throat. She heard them moving around, grunting at each other congratulatorily. Finally, the denigrated young woman tugged her bustier back into place, covering her breasts and began to regain some composure. Sitting up, she looked around the room, to find Mac looking over at her again.

"Don't get any ideas, bitch," he said, brandishing his pistol.

Starling's heart sank. "I did what you asked ... won't you please just let me go now?"

"Don't be fucking stupid!" he laughed. "You did as you were told cuz you ain't have no other choice ... we didn't make no deals!"

The young woman hung her head, realizing he was right. She had hoped if she cooperated they would let her go, but in truth she was just their helpless captive. Although her head now seemed clear, she still felt too weak to fight all three of them—to say nothing of the fact that she couldn't dodge bullets even with her enhanced reflexes. She was still their prisoner.

Willy sauntered over, a huge grin on his face. "She ain't much of a superheroine, but she sucks a mean dick!"

There was a chorus of laughter. Starling pulled her legs into her chest and dropped her forehead onto her knees. What am I gonna do? What ... what are THEY going to do with me next?

"What we gon' do now?" Twotime seemed to echo her thoughts as he rejoined the group.

"I say we keep her!" Willy said quickly. "I could live with a beej like that every day!"

All three men laughed again, the others making sounds of agreement. A frightened tremor shook through Starling's body at the thought.

Try it assholes, she thought, her shame morphing swiftly into renewed anger. Eventually my strength will return and then you'll see what kind of heroine I am!

In fact, she was already beginning to feel stronger ... maybe not strong enough yet to take them all down in a fight, but probably enough to make it over to her bracelets and turn the tables that way. They obviously didn't think she was much of a threat now, cowed and soaked in cum, which meant she had regained the element of surprise.

"Shoot man, this ain't adopt-a-bitch," Twotime said. "We ain't got nowhere to keep her."

"Nah, I been thinking," Mac said. "We been talking 'bout takin' this thing to the next level, and now we just captured the motherfucking Scarlet Dove! I think we're ready!"

"Fo sho," Willy added. "But come on man, we're just three knuckleheads from the hood, who's gonna believe us?"

"That's what I been thinking, it ain't just about cred," Mac went on. "See, we need some connections, right? Well, this bitch been fucking up the Scarpones's business somethin' fierce ..."

"Bet they'd be real grateful if someone delivered her to 'em!" Twotime finished the thought.

"Ex-motherfucking-zactly!" Mac replied.

Starling hugged her legs a bit tighter, remembering what had happened the last time she had been held prisoner by the Scarpones. She had only just barely escaped! She couldn't let these guys turn her over to them ... unless ...

Don Tony was already out on bail. If they turned her in, he'd likely come to kill her himself, and if anyone would have information on Dominion, it would be him! Mac had even said he'd heard the name from someone working for the Scarpones. If she seemed trapped and helpless, not a threat, she might be able to get the Don talking. But how would she keep from truly becoming trapped and helpless? It was a big risk.

"You can't turn me over to the Scarpones," the heroine objected, looking up from her knees.

"Shut da fuck up, bitch," Mac said brandishing his gun.

Starling cowered, scooting away and letting out a pathetic sob.

"We gon' do whatever the fuck we want with you," Willy added.

"No, please!" she gasped. "They'll kill me!"

"Maybe," Mac nodded.

"Maybe we'll tell 'em how good you suck a dick," Twotime put in. "Maybe then they'll keep you around as the house fluffer!"

Again they laughed, and Starling dropped her head onto her knees. At this point her only hope was that if she seemed as weak and scared as possible, they wouldn't bother with tying her up or securing her in any way.

"Twotime, go get the car," Mac was coming towards her now. "Willy, grab them bracelets."

Mac grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to her feet once more. He pressed the gun under her chin and looked directly into her big green eyes.

"Word on the street is Don Tony wants you alive," Mac growled. "But you try anything fuckin' cute and I'll smoke you, bitch! I'm sure he'll understand when I hand over your cold, naked body."

Except you'd have no way to verify I wasn't just some dead hooker, Starling thought. But alright, I'll play along. To wit, she painted her face in terror and nodded quickly.

Keeping his gun on her, Mac dragged the heroine back down the hallway to the rear door. Her legs were still a bit wobbly, more than she expected actually, and she struggled to keep up. Willy followed behind with her bracelets, giving her round ass a swat every time she stumbled. At the doorway, Mac shoved her against the wall and stuck the gun in her face. He cracked the door open, watching for Twotime to arrive with the car. Starling leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths.

It occurred to her that with Mac looking out the door, she could take his gun and lay him out with ease. Glancing at Willy, she saw his gaze was fixated on her boobs. She could probably take him down too, before he knew what was happening ... get her bracelets back ... and fly home to a nice hot shower ... mmmm, yes ...

However, since the success of her previous little crusade, the Scarpone mansion was on full lockdown, a veritable fortress. The truth was, this unfortunate scenario might be her only way to get inside and speak with Don Tony. Of course, she couldn't help but wonder if she would be able to get back out again!

"He's here, let's move!"

Taking the decision from her, Mac grabbed her arm again and dragged her out into the alley. Their car was a clunky red jalopy, belching pure smog from the tailpipe. Starling chuckled and shook her head. Twotime popped the trunk, as Mac shoved her towards the back of the car.

"Get in," he ordered, leveling his gun.

Despite her subterfuge, Starling's heart sank as she climbed into the trunk. She'd be trapped inside, with no idea what would be waiting when the lid was opened-far from an ideal situation, even considering the inherent risk of her whole plan.

"You try anything," Mac said, grabbing the lid, "And we'll pop a few holes in this trunk before we open it ... got it?"

Starling nodded, ducking her head as the trunk slammed shut. In the darkness, she curled into a ball, beginning to have serious doubts with respect to her improvised scheme.

Chapter Four

It should not have been a long ride to the Scarpone mansion, but for a captive superheroine alone in the dark, it seemed to take forever. Her captors' jalopy needed new shocks, brakes and alignment, so by the time they came to a final stop, Starling was feeling even more beat up than after her actual fight with the thugs. She could already feel several new bruises forming on her porcelain skin.

Although they had stopped, she continued to wait. Presumably Mac went in to negotiate terms before handing her over. She lay in the dark long enough to begin to worry, but it was right about then she heard footsteps approaching the car. The trunk lid rattled and then popped open. Light flooded in, stinging the heroine's eyes, and as they cleared she found herself facing a trio of gleaming Uzis in the hands of three men in perfect black suits. Mind racing to take in the scene, she noted the three looked almost perfectly identical.

"Come on out, bitch," Mac said, standing off to the side.

"No sudden movements," instructed another man who stepped suddenly into view.

Starling had never seen him before. He was tall and lean, with steel gray hair slicked back meticulously. He appeared to be unarmed, wearing a sleek navy blue suit with white pinstripes.

Resisting the urge to fly up and away, Starling climbed out of the trunk.

"Hands up!" barked one of the black-suited gunmen.

The heroine complied, lifting her dainty hands and glancing around. They were standing in a gravel driveway at the rear of the Scarpone mansion. Having previously done some recon on the compound, she recognized this as the servants' and deliveries entrance ... apparently you didn't bring a captive superheroine through the front door when the lord of the manor was under house arrest.

"I'm impressed, Mr. Macarthur," the tall man said to Mac. "I would not have expected your crew to be capable of capturing the vaunted Scarlet Dove." He gave her a cursory once over. "Perhaps she's not so worthy of her renown."

Starling arched an eyebrow as she regarded him, but said nothing. It was one thing to catch her off guard, and another thing entirely to keep her captive, as HE would soon find out. At least she hoped!

"This way, miss," he instructed, motioning towards the open door behind him.

The three gunmen followed her closely. Starling kept her hands up, but let her head droop and shoulders slump in apparent defeat.

"What about me an' my boys?" Mac was asking as she passed.

"You and your crew are undoubtedly in the good graces of the Scarpone family," the tall man replied. "And once the Don has confirmed the woman's identity, even better ... we'll be in touch."

He gave the thug some direction on how to leave without being seen by the surveillance detail watching the house, but Starling was already inside by then. The rear door led into a large, nearly industrial sized kitchen. It was quiet and dark at this late hour. She moved through the kitchen, heels clicking on the spotless tile, and into the dining room beyond.

"That's far enough," barked one of the gunmen.

She stopped. It was a beautiful dining room, dominated by a huge table made of polished red wood. The tall man joined them, shutting the door behind as he came. He passed them, barely looking at her, and walked to the far wall. He opened a secret doorway, and ushered them through. Behind the door was a rather plain looking stairwell, leading up to the third floor. The stairs were actually quite narrow, designed for spatial economy and not for comfort. Ascending them in her golden heels was actually a bit of a chore.

At the top was a heavy wooden door. The man in the navy suit knocked in a particular rhythm, no doubt alerting whoever was beyond, and then opened the door. Starling was led into a spacious, oval shaped office. There was a pair of couches and a big recliner near the door where they entered. The walls were hung with hand painted portraits of Italian men she did not recognize, possibly the previous Dons? At the far end was a huge wooden desk, with a large picture window behind it. She noticed her bracelets lying on the desk. The man standing at that window, she recognized very well.

"Don Tony," called the tall man. "Your guest has arrived."

The Don turned to face them. His hair was a mess and he had a five day stubble on his chin, not the well composed man she remembered. He was wearing silk pajamas under a velour robe.

"Fuck me, it is you!" he groaned.

Unsure how to respond, Starling hung her head and nodded glumly.

"You've met my house steward, Mr. Stewart," the Don indicated the tall man.

Starling glanced his way. "Your steward's name is Stewart?"

"MISTER Stewart," the steward corrected.

"Oh right," the feisty redhead couldn't keep from rolling her eyes. "My bad."

"Have a seat," the Don said rather nonchalantly, as he crossed to his liquor cabinet.

"Pass," she replied.

Don Tony was pouring himself a drink and looked up with a scowl. "Sit!"

The nearest Uzi prodded the young heroine, so she moved to one of the couches and sat. Mr. Stewart stayed near the door, while the three gunmen took up strategic positions in a triangular configuration. There was enough distance between them she'd have a hard time getting to more than one of them before the others could take her out. An all too familiar caged feeling settled into her chest with an anxious tremor.

No turning back now, she thought.

"So that knucklehead Mac did this to you?" the Don asked.

"Yes," she admitted meekly.

"Well, shit," he said crossing to the big recliner. "We may have to find some more use for that one, eh, Mr. Stewart?"

"If you say so, sir."

Don Tony chuckled, sipping his drink. "Mr. Stewart don't like getting involved in the business side of things. He runs a goddam tight ship around here though!"

"So it seems," the heroine sighed looking around.

"Funny office, huh? My great grandfather had it built when he was Don," The Don explained. "Bastard was just obsessed with the president for some reason and had to have his own oval office." He took another long drink, then leveled his gaze at Starling. "You know after our last meeting, I'll admit I got a little shook up. Thought you must really be the shit, to get yourself free, take Creed down and send me to the clink t'boot. But now I'm thinking, maybe you ain't shit, if Mac can bring you in, maybe you just got lucky last time? Whachu think?"