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Super Submission

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Super Submission, by Daphne Chennault

For nine years Daphne Atlas has defended the world against Alpha Man and his Battalion of Evil. As the superhero Artemis the Strong, she and her fellow Olympians have always triumphed. But those days are past, for Alpha Man has threatened the world with nuclear blackmail, and he has won!

Faced with imminent death, Artemis prostrates herself before Alpha Man, the new Emperor of Earth. Promising complete loyalty and total obedience in exchange for life for her fellow heroes, Daphne tempts him with herself. Just as Alpha Man planned all along!

So begins a dark odyssey through the twisted desires of the super-villain’s appetites. Even as Daphne sheds her spandex uniform for a corset and silk-mesh nightgown, she realizes that she has sacrificed more than just her liberty. Stripped first of her powers, and then her dignity, Daphne watches helplessly as the entire world is reshaped into a global empire bent on conquering the stars. From her kneeling position beside the Emperor’s throne in the former United Nations building, Daphne finds herself demoted from hero to concubine.

An SM fantasy which includes spanking, whips, maledom, bondage, gags, imprisonment, chains, cuffs, collars, corsets, concubinage, pads, slavery, and scenes of both hetero and lesbian intimacy.

Weight 0.99 lbs
Artist Credit

Cover Art Sorbis – Shutterstock.com

Publish Date

6/28/2013

Page Count

252

Word Count

77463

Excerpt

As I stood up, he smiled again, stood up, and stepped closer to me, leaned in, and whispered, “Go slower; I know that this is difficult for you. You are undressing for a stranger, for perhaps the first time?” I nodded, and he kissed my cheek. The tenderness of it startled me, and I looked at him in wonder. “I am not without feelings, Daphne. Just because you are my slave now does not mean that I don’t care about you.” His hand brushed my stomach and then, lightly, almost skating, his hand came up and grazed my left breast.

Something flip-flopped in my chest and my cheeks flushed. I brought my hands up to my face, and he took my hands away and held them by the wrists. “You are so beautiful at this moment.” He released my wrists and stepped back. “Now, remove your uniform collar.”

Like my brother, my costume has a steel removable mandarin collar. When we’re working inside crumbling masonry or burning buildings the last thing we need is for debris to go down our shirts. It took me a long time to get used to it, but it’s been very useful.

I reached behind my back underneath my hair and released the catch, and carefully removed the steel reinforced collar. I shook my head for a moment, and my shot hair flowed around me. I hadn’t realized how tight the collar had felt, and how much freer I felt without it. Bending down, I placed it on the ground beside the gloves.

Asura’s hands went to my neck, and he lightly touched my throat. For a moment I thought he was going to strangle me; he had done that once in a fight here in New York, but this time his touch was gentle. My hair was pushed aside, and he kissed the back of my neck. The hairs on my body seemed to stand up on end and then he was massaging my shoulders and back. It felt so good I groaned aloud, and then his breath was warm in my ear. “You’re so tense,” he hissed. “You need to loosen up. You’ve been carrying the burden of the world for too long.”

“It’s my duty,” I said, and he demurred.

“Not anymore,” he whispered, his fingers slowly cupped my breasts and squeezed. My eyes flew open, and he grinned. “From now on, your sole burden is obeying me. Now, remove your blouse, and slowly.” He turned and dropped back into his chair and sank back, enjoying my predicament.

I started to protest, but his face darkened, and he shook his head. I licked my lips and put my hands under my waistband and began to pull. This part of my clothing seemed to take the longest, and for each moment, my master’s face seemed to grow in joyous anticipation. And also, for each passing moment I felt the last vestiges of my freedom disappear.

Now I understood why he was having me strip in front of him. Not just for his pleasure; but also to prove to me that I was at his command. As I removed my superhero uniform, I became more his slave. When I stood naked before him, there would no longer be any doubt that I was his to command; his to control.

My shirt was halfway up my belly when my strength failed me. My hands fell at my sides, and my head slumped. The enormity of Asura’s victory overwhelmed me, and my legs almost buckled.

“Keep going,” he said.

“I can’t,” I said. “You’re torturing me, Asura.”

He stepped forward, his hand lashing back to strike me again, and I raised my head, tears stark in my eyes. “I don’t care if you hit me again. You can whip me, if you want. But this is torture, sheer torture!” My hands were waving, and I must have looked ridiculous, a Lycra body-shirt halfway up my belly, my bra showing underneath it, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I was a hero; a defender of the people and you’re tearing away the layers of my identity, and making me bear the weight of your victory! It hurts so much; I don’t think I can stand it.”

He struck me across the face again, then grabbed my hair and pulled me toward him. I raised my hands, expecting a fight, and then he was kissing me. His hands were on my shoulders and his tongue was inside my mouth battling with my own. He pulled me to him, and I felt his hard muscles against my chest. My Goddess! Was this the man whom I had fought for control of Con Edison? Was this the man who’d looted a Chase Manhattan vault and dropped half the contents over Harlem? The same man who had Vulcana knock me fifty miles across downtown Manhattan in the heat of battle? He was strong and hard, and I felt myself melting against him.

He yanked on my hair and pulled my head back, and oh-my-fucking-goddess there was such a look there that I wanted to surrender right then and there. My pussy melted at the sight of that hunger.

“You have surrendered to me, Artemis, but that does not mean that you have lost. When a woman surrenders to a man, she wins. Do you understand?”

My vagina began to ache, and slowly I nodded.

“Remove your blouse,” he commanded, and I obeyed, gladly.

As I bared my chest, I lost sight of him, but soon I could feel his hands on my breasts still encased in my bra. His touch was gentle, slowly tracing imaginary lines across my boobs. My nipples were hard, and he touched them with feather lightness.

As I straightened out my Lycra top and carefully folded it I realized with a start that he was smiling again. There was something almost gentle in that smile. For a moment I forgot that he was the emperor of the world, a villain, a conqueror. For an instant, I was just a woman, and he was just a man.

My hands went to my bra, but he shook his head. He reached out and snapped the elastic of my pants.

Carefully, with exquisite slowness, I peeled off my spandex pants, being careful not to disturb my thong panties. As the spandex left my thighs, I could hear the wind escaping from his cheeks, and I felt a surge of pride. I’ve always been very careful to stay trim and healthy. Nobody likes a fat super heroine. With a start, I found myself hoping that he’d let me exercise. Was I warming to the idea of being his slave? Had Cassandra’s vision been real? Would I willingly kneel beside his throne while the world leaders paid him tribute? Would I wear some clingy negligee in public, while he led me by a leash? Would the world know me only as a conquered slut? I felt a dark desire surge in my chest; to have my lust paraded before the world with abandon. That had never been an option before. Now, it might be my only choice.

As I placed my pantsuit in a pile, my Master had moved around in back of me and was running his hands over my body. My skin turned to gooseflesh and I turned about, my pussy beginning to ache again. My mouth trembled, but he placed a hand on my lower lip and then held my shoulders. “Don’t speak, yet.” he said, and then stepped back.

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, staring at me. He was still in his uniform, with the A in flames on his chest. The bodysuit hugging the muscles which only minutes ago had cradled me and held me close. I was almost naked, in my bra and panties, my pussy beginning to pulse in anticipation. I was sure that he could tell that I was wet; moist and ready, expecting to be royally fucked.

For nearly five years of fights and battles Asura had taunted me, hit me, fought me across the country and through the landscapes of the world as he and Bulldozer or Scar fought with the Olympians over one thing or another. My brother and I had battled Alpha Man time and again, but he had always gotten away. We could never figure out what he was up to. Again and again I had scryed the multiple pathways of the future, trying to find out what his plan was. And now, I knew.

His plan was to have me; own me; strip me naked and make me his slave. And Goddess help me, I wanted him! I wanted to be his, totally.

All the fighting, all the battles, all the conflict was over. I had lost, and in a moment, he was going to be inside me. I ought to feel disgust, revulsion for this power-hungry madman, but I didn’t. Cumbrous desire burned through my body, and I wanted to run my hands across his chest. I wanted to feel his hands on me. I wanted those powerful muscles to tear off my brassiere and tug away my thong. My Goddess had abandoned me to my master’s lust, and somehow it just didn’t seem so bad anymore.

I had not surrendered myself to a super-villain, I had surrendered to a man; a man strong enough to be my master. I had seen in him the man powerful enough to make me lay aside my powers; determined enough to make me his woman. I had never known anyone like him, and I realized that I needed him, and I was sure that he needed me.

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