Hump Day Shorts - La Sombra (Patreon)

Alias, Sombra is a new super heroine so I don't have any images of her yet. Very sad, but think of Jennifer Lopez as the title character. Works for me.

La Sombra

Synne City Super Heroines in Peril

By JK Waylon

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Walter Evans,” the bailiff called.

Assistant District Attorney Rosa Hernandez rose to her feet with everyone else. The defendant had to be urged to stand by his attorney. She cut hostile brown eyes toward Carlos Consuelo, the self-styled “King of the Barrio.”

Judge Evans entered, walking briskly despite being seventy-two. The balding jurist took his seat, gave Rosa a disapproving look, and didn’t even glance at the defendant’s table. Rosa tensed, standing there in a snug peach top under a white sports coat and matching white pencil skirt. The skirt stretched tightly across her shapely thighs. She’d forgotten that Judge Evans disapproved of women going to court in tight clothing. Disapproved of women going to court in general, as a matter of fact.

The judge made them all stand a little longer than necessary, another annoying habit of his. After he finally allowed everyone to take their seats, Judge Evans shuffled his papers and frowned at Rosa a long moment.

“Is the prosecution ready?” he asked.

She paused. Ready? For what? They were there to set the trial date. Carlos Consuelo was charged with human trafficking, selling drugs, and assault of a police officer. Unfortunately, he’d escaped during the police’s attempt to arrest him, so Ms Justice had to scoop him back up. And Judge Evans had a reputation for not liking super heroine vigilantism in any form.

The beautiful, busty prosecutor stood, “We are, your Honor. You should have our recommendation for the trial date before you.”

Defense council stood. “Your Honor, defense asks the court to drop all charges. You’ll see before you Defense Exhibit H. The city’s most out of control super heroine, namely the one bearing the misnomer Ms Justice, physically assaulted my client without cause, and accused him of crimes without witnessing any of said crimes.”

Rosa frowned. Defense lawyer Edmund Franks certainly knew how to play up to Judge Evans’ prejudices. It was true that Ms Justice had captured Mr. Consuelo less than gently, but only after he’d been indicted by a Grand Jury and escaped a police raid. Indeed, he’d shot a cop in the leg during that gunfight. The defense’s charge had no merit whatsoever.

“Granted,” Judge Evans said with finality. “All charges are dropped. You may go, Mr. Consuelo.”

The gallery gasped. ADA Rosa Hernandez’s jaw dropped.

What the hell just happened?

“All rise!” the bailiff cried.

Judge Evans stood, and quickly marched out of the courtroom. Rosa blinked after him. Meanwhile, Carlos looked over at her and smirked. Was the fix in? Had they gotten to Judge Evans? Did they bribe him? Corruption was rampant in Synne City, but despite his dislike of all things super heroine, Judge Evans had always been a tough-on-crime kind of judge. Indeed, the local media had started calling him the “Hanging Judge” of late.

Suddenly, Carlos was looming over her, bending over to whisper in her ear, “Better luck next time, Chiquita.”

Her long, delicate fingers curled into fists. Rosa hated how he always called her that.

I’ll show you ‘little girl,’ you big jerk, she thought.

Defense counsel ushered Carlos out of the courtroom before she could respond. Which was good, because she really wanted to punch him in the face. That would’ve gotten her tossed in jail. So Rosa gathered everything into her briefcase, and headed for her car.

I’ll deal with Señor Consuelo later, she thought. Tonight.

~**~**~

Rosa didn’t get home until after dark. And it was summer, which meant it didn’t get dark until around nine at night. Her small Craftsman cottage was painted a lovely sea foam green, with a cozy front porch. It was only a two bedroom one bath, but it was hers. Even better, it was in one of Synne City’s oldest neighborhoods just west of downtown, so less than five minutes to work during rush hour. Heck, she could walk to work if need be.

She felt bone weary as she sat on the couch and finally kicked off those five-inch pumps. Felt so good. She then glanced at her TV remote, wishing she could just veg out and watch something mindless until bedtime. But she still had work to do. People to find. Justice to mete.

“The dark shadows are full of evil people,” she muttered. A tiny smile played at the corners of her full red lips. “Good thing it’s full of defenders of justice, too.”

Rosa went to her spare bedroom, which she’d converted into her fashionista cave, her divine closet. Sexy stilettos filled one wall, floor to ceiling. And the best fashions she could afford hung along the other three walls. The bedroom’s tiny closet was officially sealed up, but in reality it had a secret door. Inside awaited her super heroine costume.

The shapely Latina quickly stripped and carefully put away her clothes. Then she walked naked into the bathroom, where she changed her makeup and hair. Only then did she return to the secret closet and start pulling out her beloved costume. It was all gray and black. Black fishnet pantyhose went on first, which she paused to carefully smooth out and inspect for runs. Next came her spandex leotard. It was gray, with a large boob window and high-cut hips. The boob window was trimmed in black to help draw the bad guys’ eyes in and distract them. And then came the accessories.

My favorite pieces, she thought with a grin.

Rosa pulled on a pair of black, stiletto-heeled thigh boots. A wide black spandex choker encircled her neck, with her golden enchanted medallion sporting her heroine symbol front and center. Then she pressed the black mask to her face, held on by spirit gum. Yeah, the most uncomfortable piece of her costume. With that done, Rosa opened another secret compartment, a safe, hidden within the secret closet. Inside was her Object of Power: a silver pinky ring with a round-cut diamond.

Slipping the ring onto her left pinky, she sucked in a sharp breath. Her back bowed slightly, as her lips parted and her eyes fluttered shut. That wonderful feeling of super strength and endurance flowed quickly through her shapely body, igniting her libido for a few seconds. It always felt amazing. She bit her lip, and then sighed.

I wonder if that sensation is actually part of the magic, or just the Witches’ Council’s way of thanking us for putting our lives on the line like this?

Aloud, “I am Sombra! Time to mete some justice.”

Sombra pulled on a pair of very snug, black opera gloves as she headed for the back door. Her stilettos clattered on original hardwood floors, and then the tiles of her new gourmet kitchen floor. The backyard was a huge mass of old-growth trees, all dark and foreboding. One of the things she liked best about that house, and the primary reason she’d bought it, was all the twenty foot high shrubbery around the perimeter. It was perfectly secluded, allowing her to come and go as Sombra at almost any hour of the day.

She made sure her backdoor key was in its secret stash spot, and then strode purposefully off the back porch. Two steps out into the yard, Sombra took off like a bullet, flying several hundred feet up into the night sky before veering to the southwest. The Hispanic part of town was sprawled out west of downtown, with Carlos Consuelo’s home toward the southern edge of what everyone referred to as The Barrio.

Having memorized his address long before, Sombra flew straight to Carlos’ place. He lived on the top two floors of a ten-story apartment building he owned. Half of the roof had been turned into his private party deck, with the other half behind a high wall and filled with HVAC and other utility equipment. It had a spectacular view of downtown.

The rooftop deck was dark, with the two-story luxury penthouse below dark as well. It didn’t look like Carlos was home. Of course, he could be in bed, but she seriously doubted Carlos went to bed before ten at night.

The busty masked vigilante came to a landing atop his roof deck and considered her next option. Carlos was known to party at Subversions. With all the Voids on the club’s security payroll, the city’s criminals could let down their hair and relax, without worry of super heroine attack. But he also frequented other clubs in the Barrio. Mostly strip joints.

Suddenly, another dark feminine shape appeared out of the night sky and dropped down beside Sombra. Recognizing the color scheme immediately, Sombra smiled and hugged Ms Justice. The gorgeous blonde always looked so damned heroic and competent in her red, white, and blue stars and stripes costume.

“I see you heard about Carlos Consuelo escaping justice today,” Ms Justice said. “Good. I don’t collar these mutts so some liber…dumb judge can release them free and clear five minutes later.”

“I agree,” Sombra said. “I was stunned by that development. So here I am, but it looks like nobody’s home. You wouldn’t happen to know where to find him, would you?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be here,” Ms Justice said. She looked around, frustration on her masked face. “I really don’t have time to go looking for him. My alter-ego has commitments early tomorrow morning.” Ms Justice pulled out her phone. “Give me your phone.”

Sombra pulled her smartphone out of her right thigh boot. Ms Justice pulled something up on her own phone, and then tapped it against Sombra’s phone.

“There. Gold Avenger gave that to me to catch Carlos last time,” she said. “It’s an app linked to a homing device she put on his vehicle a few months back. It might still work, but I think the police might’ve impounded his SUV. Worth a try.”

Despite Sombra’s best arguments, Ms Justice insisted she couldn’t tag along. Apparently, whatever she had planned the next morning was too important to postpone. So they hugged again, and Sombra watched the much more brightly-costumed heroine fly away. Then she pulled up the new homing app, and tapped on it. It displayed fifteen different names from the police’s Most Wanted list. One of them was Carlos Consuelo. She tapped on his name, and her screen changed to a map of Grimme City and the surrounding suburbs. A red dot appeared in the very center.

Sombra swiped it to zoom in, using two fingers. She zoomed in until she could tell the vehicle was not in the police impound lot. It was towards the middle of the Barrio, in a shopping district of small businesses. She grinned.

“Ms Justice is going to be so disappointed she couldn’t stay for the fun.”

Up, up, and away Sombra went, turning toward the indicated spot on her phone. She flew over super fast, and found Carlos next to his cherry-red Cadillac Escalade behind a Mexican restaurant. Two of his favorite thugs stood to either side of a nervous looking man, also Hispanic. It didn’t exactly take a detective to tell what was going on.

Sombra descended slowly, quietly to listen in. They were all speaking in Spanish.

“This is the second time you were short, Juan,” Carlos said, shaking his head woefully. “How do you expect me to protect you when you can’t afford the fee?”

“Please, Señor Consuelo, it cost so much after your men tore up my place,” he begged. “I’ll get you the rest of the money. I just need a little…”

Sombra scowled down at the back of Carlos’ head. Just as expected, he was already back conducting his protection racket. She suspected he was still trading in young women and drugs, too. He would never change.

“Time? I’ve given you nothing but time, Juan,” Carlos growled, balling up a fist. “I’m all out of time and patience.”

“You and me both!” Sombra cried out in Spanish. “Time for you to face the music, Carlos.”

The busty Latina dropped straight down, next to the big luxury SUV. She bent down, seized the bottom edge of the vehicle, and surged up as she flipped the Escalade on its side. A preventative measure on her part, even if he got off this time, Carlos’ ride would be in the shop.

Then she surged feet-first as Carlos spun around to face her. Her stiletto-booted feet slammed into his chest, flattening the powerful crime kingpin to the ground. Sombra didn’t give anyone time to react. She spun into a roundhouse, pounding a foot into one thug’s head. He went down like a rock.

Unfortunately, the other thug managed to punch her in the ribs.

“Ouchy,” she taunted. “That hurt good, big boy.”

Sombra dropped back into a defensive stance. As hoped, her move backwards pulled the remaining thug toward her. He thought she was retreating, but she proved him wrong a second later with a kick to the balls, followed by an elbow to the side of the head. Out cold before he hit the ground.

“Well, that was easy as…”

Someone she hadn’t noticed rushed out of the Escalade. The driver. Sombra noticed the Uzi in his hand as he swung it around to threaten her. But she stood between the restaurant owner and the gunman. She knew a moment of blind panic, before she used her flight to surge into the innocent victim. Her arms and legs wrapped around Juan, shielding him with her body as Carlos’ driver opened fire on full-auto.

The frantic heroine lifted up a few inches, and carried Juan through the back door in a split-second. Above all else, she had to protect innocent civilians.

Unfortunately, by the time she went back out, Carlos and his thugs were long gone. All she could do was stomp on the tarmac and swear.

~**~**~

The next day, Rosa reported Carlos’ probation violation as both Sombra and the ADA. His probation officer promised to investigate. The domestic violence conviction was all she’d had to get him off the street before. But a probation violation meant she could put him in jail for the full ninety days without another trial. It was only three months, but better than nothing.

By midday, Carlos’ lawyer was filing harassment complaints against her and the DA’s Office. He was also talking up the news media, whining like a schoolgirl. Rosa just shook her head and took it in stride. It was the defense counsel’s job to do whatever he could to get his client off, but did they really have to make up such blatant lies?

Rosa was feeling pretty good by the end of her workday. She’d managed to get off early. By her standards, anyway. It was just after six o’clock in the evening, still bright day outside, and she didn’t have to take any work home with her. She would actually have time to relax and enjoy a home-cooked meal, and even watch some TV, before she masked up and went out on patrol as Sombra.

Her red stiletto pumps clattered loudly in the dark underground parking lot. She couldn’t do much, physically speaking, without her Object of Power, so even as Rosa, she kept her eyes and ears alert for trouble. Her reserved parking place wasn’t far from the elevator, and next to the emergency stairwell. So she had escape routes. But as she reached her car, four men in all black rushed out of the stairwell and surrounded her.

All four wore those head-covering masks Mexican wrestlers wore, with holes for eyes, nose, and mouths. None of them threatened her with a knife, gun, or any other weapon, but the four of them were more than a match for a single non-super-powered woman.

“No!” she cried. “I’m Maria Rosa Hernandez, an Officer of the Court. Attacking me will get you sent to prison!”

“Oooh. We’re so scared,” their leader said. Was that Carlos Consuelo’s voice? “Grab her.”

Rosa tried to kick the first man to lunge at her, but her tight black pencil skirt proved too tight and sturdy. Her kick was sadly aborted, and she almost fell down. Her stiletto pump did fly off her foot. So she was hobbled and teetering on one shoe when the masked thug punched her in the stomach.

“Ack!” she cried, all of her breath exploding out. Rosa gagged and gasped, hot tears flowing as excruciating pain ripped through her shapely body. Then another thug punched her in the kidney. “Aaaiiiee!”

The beautiful Latina dropped to all fours, still gagging and gasping. No air. Needed air so badly. The pain was scrambling her mind, making her desperate and crazy.

The man behind her grabbed Rosa’s long brown hair, yanking her head back. Two others seized her arms and lifted her up. Her knees proved too wobbly to hold her weight, so the men had to hold her up as the fourth pressed up close. Their leader’s wild, furious eyes bore into her shocked and terrified eyes, before he punched her in the gut. Her mouth opened as she cried out, and he abruptly shoved a pistol all the way to the back of her throat.

“Listen carefully, Chiquita,” he sneered. “We are friends of Carlos Consuelo. He’s a good friend, you know? And if you don’t leave him alone… Well, next time we won’t be so pleasant.”

She stared up at him in horror, choking on that brutal pistol.

“Do you understand?” he demanded.

Rosa nodded, eyes huge and round, hot tears flooding down her cheeks.

He slammed his knee into her belly after pulling the pistol out of her mouth.

“This is your only warning, Chiquita,” he growled, and then slapped the pistol upside her head.

The lights went out.

~**~**~

Rosa moaned and groaned, writhing as she slowly fought back up to the light. Her head throbbed, as did her left side. She felt so weary and weak. And cold. Whatever she was lying upon was bone-chillingly cold. And hard.

“Oooooh,” she cried, lovely brown eyes fluttering open. “What happened?”

Her vision cleared and focused, and she found herself sprawled out in a small pool of blood on the hard concrete in a dark place. Clotted blood fouled her long brown hair, and was splattered all over her blouse and jacket. Then she looked around and spotted her car. One of her shoes was next to the left front wheel, and her purse lay halfway to the elevator lobby.

“Those sons of bitches emptied my purse,” she gasped out, hand over her left ribs as she lifted up onto on elbow. She found her wallet right off, and saw it was cleaned out of both cash and credit cards. “Dammit.”

The remaining contents of her purse were scattered all over the place. It was a spiteful act that forced her, on hands and knees, to crawl around to gather it all up. Some things were under other cars, forcing her to wiggle under them on her belly. It took a God-awful long time and effort before she was through, and even then she knew there were things lost she’d never see again.

“Men shouldn’t mess with a girl’s purse,” she muttered, finally sliding into her driver’s seat. Rosa was hurting too much, so was forced to go barefoot. Walking in heels hurt. Besides, it was easier to drive barefooted. “I think they did serious damage. I might have a broken rib or two.”

Rosa finally pulled herself together. As an Amazon, she healed very fast. But not fast enough. Her Object of Power would finish the job pronto, provided the injuries weren’t too terrible. So she started her car and headed home. It was just a short drive.

She left her purse and shoes in the car. It took too much effort to carry anything in her condition, but Rosa managed to stagger into her house and lock the door. She headed straight to her super heroine closet, and the enchanted ring inside the hidden safe.

“Thank God,” she whispered once the ring was on her pinky.

The transforming spell didn’t feel so erotic this time. The hot tingle of healing magic all-but consumed her. Half-coherent, Rosa staggered into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed. All she had to do was lay there and let the enchanted ring do its magic.

It took the better part of two hours, most of which she slept, but when Rose rolled out of bed she felt one hundred percent. Any broken bones in her face and ribs were fully healed, and even the bruising was faded away. Her outfit and bedspread were still bloody messes, which she prayed she could properly clean.

But first, she hit the shower. It took a long time to wash all the blood and grime out of her hair, off her body. But after her shower, Rosa made up her face and hair to go back out as Sombra.

The statuesque Latina quickly dressed up as her super heroine alter ego. She didn’t have a choice in what she did next. Either go take Carlos down, and damn the consequences if she failed, or give up, hang up her mask, and returned her Object of Power to the Witches Council as a failed, disgraced heroine.

Within minutes Sombra was soaring off into the night sky. She flew straight to the Barrio, and to Carlos’ penthouse. The place was all lit up, with flashing lights and music blaring on the rooftop party deck. Sombra circled the ten-story apartment building in the night sky, studying the situation.

Carlos was there, along with a good number of his men. Six hot Latinas were dancing topless within their midst, and she spotted cocktail glasses and beer bottles on every flat surface. The men were pulling their favorites into their laps to fondle and kiss, which quickly turned into outright sex. Sombra scowled, forced to watch their debauchery.

Celebrating their victory over Señorita Hernandez, no doubt, she thought, eyes narrowing behind her black mask. Big men, so proud that four of them beat up a single woman. Disgusting.

She had just one problem. Since they were masked when they assaulted her, Rosa couldn’t positively identify them. At least, not well enough for a court of law. So she didn’t have a crime she could pin on Carlos. If she just flew in, kicked their butts, and arrested them, a judge would set them free before the sun came up. And then Carlos would be after her alter-ego with a vengeance.

After another hour, the men began to tire of banging the young women. But instead of chasing them off, they chloroformed them. Sombra stared incredulously as they put them down in just a few minutes, and then bound their naked bodies up hand and foot.

Carlos made a phone call, and a few minutes later men came up to take their captives away into white slavery. Those poor girls were his latest human trafficking victims!

“And that’s all I need to see,” she growled.

Sombra slipped her hand into her right boot-top, but stopped when her fingers touched the phone. Call for backup to help take Carlos down? Or just do it herself? The gorgeous Latina’s eyes narrowed.

“This is too personal for a group effort,” she muttered, and left the phone hidden in her boot. And then she veered toward the rooftop deck. “Party time.”

And just like that, she came streaking out of the night, a wraith in black and gray.

“Halt in the name of the Law!” Sombra cried imperiously. She came to a stiletto-clattering stop atop the deck. “You are all under arrest for assault and battery, kidnapping, and human trafficking.”

“La Sombra!” several men cried.

“How many times do I have to tell you miscreants, it’s just ‘Sombra,’” she said, crossing her arms under her boobs.

They gawked at her a moment, and then Carlos started barking orders. She smiled. Sombra had hoped he’d resist arrest. Now she could legally beat the bloody snot out of him, and even Judge Evans wouldn’t release him.

Seven of the fifteen men up on that deck charged Sombra. She was as strong as ten men, so technically they outnumbered her in every way. But she had powers and skills they didn’t possess. Like flight. So the busty beauty flew off the deck to do a lightning quick loop above them, only to come back down, heels-first, in the back of one of their heads. He went down and stayed there.

“You can’t win,” Sombra called as she flew up out of reach again. “Surrender now, or suffer the consequences.”

Half of them fired pistols up at her. So dangerous, yet useless against her. The bad guys never learned. So she began targeting the gunmen, diving down suddenly to punch or kick them in the head. One she grabbed by the arm, and then began spinning around and around. That kept his cohorts in crime at bay as she spun him around faster and faster, like a human flail. And then she released him to fly straight into the five men surrounding Carlos. They all went down, including their inglorious leader.

“Ten down, five to go,” she taunted. Sombra floated a foot off the deck, ready to fly off in any direction in a heartbeat. So far, she’d at least knocked down every single man. Unfortunately, some didn’t stay down. Even Carlos and the men around him were staggering to their feet. They looked battered and bruised, but still plenty ornery. “You scumbags like to abuse women, but you don’t seem to be able to take it.”

“Drop to the ground and surrender, La Sombra,” Carlos sneered, pointing a pistol at her.

She smiled, shaking her head woefully. “You are so stupid, Carlos. That gun cannot hurt me.”

Unblinking, he swung it down to aim at the head of an unconscious woman.

“But it’ll kill her, La Sombra,” he said. “Drop and surrender, or else she dies. Her blood will be on your hands, La Sombra.”

Sombra’s jaw dropped. That had never happened to her before. Chaos ruled her mind as she tried to figure a way out.

“If you fly away, I’ll kill every one of these pretty chiquitas,” Carlos sneered. “Obey, or they start dying in three, two, one…”

“Okay! Okay, you win,” she cried, heart hammering so loud she couldn’t even hear herself. Sombra felt on the verge of swooning. How had it turned around so fast, and so badly? “I-I… I surrender.”

Sombra’s feet softly touched the deck. Her black-gloved hands rose up in the classic surrender sign. Carlos’ men quickly converged on her as her throat tightened and emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

Someone behind the heroine unzipped her leotard. A chill went up her spine, and her blood ran cold. Sombra’s eyes darted over to the bound, gagged, and unconscious women.

My fate? she thought. Destined to be a s-sex slave?

Carlos reached out with his free hand, seized the edge of her boob window, and yanked down. Her spandex leotard was forced down to her waist, releasing her large, firm tits to jostle before the men’s hungry eyes. Then the man behind her forced her costume down around her ankles.

“El Sombra’s coño is very pretty,” Carlos taunted.

Carlos pressed up, his face so close that she averted her own face and dropped her eyes. So he nuzzled her cheek, while his free hand first cupped a heavy tit, and then dropped down to stroke her completely bare pussy.

“Only really slutty chiquitas get full Brazilians,” he taunted.

He forced a finger up between her sensitive folds, plowing into her vagina. A tiny gasp escaped Sombra’s lips, and her back bowed slightly. She felt that penetration all the way into her bones. Her black-gloved hands, still held up to either side of her head, curled into fists as her body tensed up.

“Be gentle,” she gasped when one of the men twisted her arms back and locked her wrists in handcuffs. And then he squeezed the cuffs even tighter. She tugged on them in vain. Even with her super strength, Sombra couldn’t break solid steel handcuffs. No leverage. And then rough hands began exploring her amazing body. “Hey, watch it. I’m a delicate flower of femininity, pendejo.”

“You think we’re stupid, La Sombra?” Carlos asked, eyes narrowing. He stuffed the pistol under his belt, and then grabbed a fistful of silky brown hair. Yanking her head back, forcing the busty masked vigilante to look him in the eyes, he continued to massage her pussy. “You’re the pendejo who came here all alone. You’re the pendejo who challenged fifteen men, and then surrendered without a fight just because someone else was threatened.”

“Because I have something you’ve never had, Carlos,” she said, eyes fierce and defiant. “A heart.”

His finger finally slipped out of her vagina, only to start rubbing and swirling around her hyper-sensitive clit. Her energized body reacted instantly, and quite profoundly. The most wonderful sensations rippled up into her core, back bowed even more, and it became almost impossible to form a coherent thought.

“Please,” she begged. “Mercy.”

“Spread your feet wider,” Carlos commanded.

Sombra teetered atop her sky-high stilettos. Wider apart? She swallowed hard, licked her lips, and nodded. So hard to concentrate. But she spread her feet apart, and again, until her captor was satisfied. The shapely heroine understood she was opening herself to easier sexual exploitation, but didn’t know how to get out of her predicament. Not yet.

Carlos surprised Sombra by palming the back of her head, and pulling her full red lips in for a deep, passionate kiss. An unending kiss that completely scrambled her mind. At the same time, he intensified his masturbation of her clit. Sombra resisted the kiss, at first, but he quickly overwhelmed her, putting her emotions into a spiral.

Men seized Sombra’s arms when her knees threatened to buckle. Then Carlos upped the ante by forcing his tongue into her mouth, and she lost the ability to resist. The gorgeous Latina felt her body changing as she pushed back into that kiss, moaning and groaning. She felt so out of control, so helpless and vulnerable.

And then that rush to climax consumed her body and soul

For half-a-second, Sombra resisted. She fought that forced climax. But then her willpower collapsed under Carlos’ relentless fingers, lips, and tongue. And she surged over the top in a flash. Sombra’s core pulsed with super intense pleasure as hot tingles flowed throughout her shapely, sweat-shiny body. Her hips thrust forward, over and over, while tiny animal sounds of abject pleasure bubbled out of her lips.

“La Sombra has lost her la vida heroica life,” Carlos laughed. “And now will begin to live la vida cachonda.”

He released her, as did the men holding her arms. The masked vigilante fell to her knees, huffing and puffing. All she wanted to do was bask in the afterglow, yet the pain of falling hard onto her knees reminded Sombra of her dire straits. Then what Carlos said finally registered in her numb brain.

Sombra blinked up at him. The slutty life? And then she remembered he was a human trafficker. Not true slutty, but sexual slavery. Forced sluttiness.

Looking around to access her situation, Sombra noticed the six chloroformed and bound Latinas were gone. She’d been so consumed by her own problems, the heroine had failed to notice the men taking those poor girls into sexual slavery. And then Carlos regained her full attention by pulling his cock out.

“Give her the rag,” Carlos said.

Before she could figure out what that meant, one of the men behind her pressed a wadded up, damp cloth over her mouth and nose. She smelled chloroform instantly, and then felt it seeping into her body and mind. Things slowed down. It became harder to think, even as all strength quickly bled out of her limbs.

“Enough,” Carlos said. “I don’t want her completely out. I just want to keep her weak and unable to fight us.”

“Ooooh,” she whispered. And then another man dropped to his knees behind her, and grabbed her well-rounded hips. He quickly split her pantyhose open from her pussy to her butt hole. And then she felt his cock poking at her butt crack. So she looked up at Carlos with all the defiance she could muster, which wasn’t much. “You crossed a line tonight by capturing and enslaving me. My heroic sisters will avenge me. You are a dead man walking.”

The man behind her finally pushed through her nether lips, right up to her entrance. Sombra’s jaw dropped, and her breath caught. She felt a chill slither up her spine.

Is this the beginning of the end?

He thrust, penetrating her sacred body in the most intimate manner. Sombra felt him sheath his full length inside her on that first powerful thrust, his hips slapping loudly into her firm butt cheeks. An incredulous expression spread across her masked face.

“Ugggh!” she grunted. “Oooooh.”

“You are mine,” Carlos said. “I own you. Say it!”

“Fuck you,” she gasped.

So Carlos moved up close, took her head in both hands, and thrust into her mouth.

“Mmmmgh.”

Mind still numb and sluggish from the chloroform, Sombra had no will to fight them. She started sucking. The sexy heroine used her lips, tongue, and suction to give as much pleasure as possible. She noticed the other eight men form a circle around them, all looking eager for their own turn at her. And then, just the thought of all those men passing her around like a cheap party favor, pushed the shapely heroine over the top.

Nothing energized an Amazon’s body and mind like intense sex. The man fucking her doggie-style had a knack for hitting her G-Spot, over and over. He forced her to climax quickly, and again, and again before he filled her womb with his potent seed. Meanwhile, Carlos seemed intent on choking her to death on his cock. He didn’t waste any time forcing his way down her throat, and deep-throated Sombra until his henchman had finished.

Sombra was immediately flipped over onto her back, and Carlos slipped in between her legs. She grunted when he penetrated, pushing his long, fat cock all the way into her. Balls deep. The impaled beauty just gawked up at his leering face. And then he pressed a knife to her throat.

“Where is your Object of Power, La Sombra?” he demanded. “You aren’t wearing a power belt, so which piece of your costume is the Object of Power?”

She almost admitted it was the ring hidden under her glove. But an idea came to her. Her one and only chance.

“The gold medallion on my choker,” she said. “See, it has my symbol on it.”

Carlos’ eyes dropped down to her neck. Sombra spoke the instant she was sure his eyes were locked on the enchanted item.

“Gotcha,” she whispered very quietly.

It was enough. Carlos froze, eyes wide. She fought the urge to smile, for he was magically entranced. Sombra now controlled the leader of her captors.

“Carlos, be a friend,” she whispered. “Get off me, and order your men to free my wrists.”

The brutal Latino drug kingpin slowly pulled out of her, stood, and looked around at his men. The others all looked eager, hoping he was giving her to them now.

“Remove her handcuffs,” Carlos said.

Everyone froze. Sombra tensed. If someone challenged him, it could break Carlos out of his trance. So she rolled to her knees to pull their eyes down to her.

“Please remove the handcuffs,” she said, trying to sound as weak and pitiful as possible after struggling to her booted feet.

“Do it,” Carlos said. “Remove the handcuffs.”

The other men hesitated, but one of them stepped forward with the key. A moment later, Sombra was rubbing her aching wrists and grinning. Then she turned away from Carlos to face the other men. She smiled, and tapped her medallion.

“Gentlemen, this is the secret to my power,” she said, and waited for all of them to lock eyes on the golden medallion. “Gotcha!”

A thrill rippled through the statuesque Latina. She couldn’t guarantee there weren’t more men down in the penthouse, but all the men up on the roof were entranced and subject to her will. First thing, though, she found her leotard and pulled it back on. Couldn’t call the police and stand there naked before them. People would ask questions.

“Speaking of which…”

Sombra quickly used the medallion’s magic for its main purpose: forcing men to forget. Forget capturing and fucking her. That was one setback that would remain her secret. Only then did she call in some other super heroines, and the police.

“What happens in the shadows,” she said, grimacing. “Stays in the shadows.” 

The End