Super Mom: Besieged (Chapter 12) (Patreon)

Chapter 12

Super Mom’s keen violet eyes scanned all the surrounding structures for habitation, but mostly for men waiting in ambush, perimeter guards, and such. The other buildings were mostly burned down, few places to hide. Her confidence rose. A quick glance back down Laramie showed the police had turned off their emergency lights.

Are they even looking for the robbers anymore?

She started dropping down toward the back of the warehouse. No one on the roof. No guards outside on the perimeter. Super Mom suspected it was just four to six robbers, just what they could fit in the SUV. In truth, robbing liquor stores wasn’t a very profitable career if they had to support that many men.

This has to be some kind of practice run, she thought. What could be the bigger score they are planning for?

A lot of things didn’t add up, but desperate men aren’t always logical. What did matter was those robbers terrorized some poor store owner, threatening him with injury or death. That made them violent criminals that she had to get off the streets. And she was the perfect person to end their criminal careers since she was bullet proof.

Super Mom scanned the building, especially under the eaves, looking for cameras or other security. Nothing. So she came to a soundless landing beside the back door. There were four bay doors, all closed. She assumed they were locked, as well. So she tried the backdoor.

Locked, she thought, remembering the roof hatch. They are about to have company drop in on them unannounced. I hate when that happens.

She smirked as she flew up and atop the warehouse. The roof hatch was not locked. Why should they lock it. Who but a flying super heroine could get up there?

Opening the hatch, she looked down a long ladder. The hatch was situated at the top of the interior wall that separated the office area. She saw bare concrete flooring, with the bare minimum lighting. No voices, so the men must be in the office section.

Lifting up, she hovered over the open hatch, and then dropped fast. Super Mom landed with a loud clatter of heels, but she didn’t see anyone. The black sedan sat in the middle of the open area. Three walls were stacked high with crates, fading to nothing in the darkness. The lone light was above the car, and it was a pretty dim light at that.

Looking up and around, she noticed lots of equipment up above to move stuff around on tracks. Chains of all sizes hung halfway down to the floor, some with hooks. One with a metal “basket.”

She turned toward the door into the office area, but noticed the car’s trunk was left ajar. Was something inside? Or did they fail to close it all the way? Curiosity got the best of the heroine. She walked over and open the trunk all the way. Two bank bags full of cash sat in there. The robbers forgot them? Or placed them there with plans to go somewhere else once the cops calmed down?

“Fools,” she muttered. The busty heroine leaned in, reaching for the bags of money. “I’ll just secure these up on the roof.”

As soon as her white-gloved hands seized the two bags, she heard a beep from the car. She looked up, and the trunk slammed down on her arms. Only two panels opened so that the trunk passed to either side of her forearms. Very tightly. And then something clamped down on her wrists.

“What the hell?”

Super Mom tried to pull her hands out. Not happening. Her heart started racing.

“Trap!”

She put all of her super strength into breaking free. The car’s trunk was reinforced to withstand super strength. Her wrists didn’t move even an inch. She was truly trapped.

“Trapped like a super heroine rat,” a male voice taunted.

Super Mom’s breath caught. Dark shapes began detaching from the darkness. Men were hiding deep with in the dark shadows among the crates. Lots of men. Maybe hundreds of men.

So many to rob liquor stores?

“The rat is caught in the trap,” he said.

She realized he was speaking into a phone. Her eyes widened. This was a major operation. Just to capture her? Or any super heroine? Didn’t matter, it succeeded, and she was the rat trapped.

“Release me this instant,” she commanded. “If you don’t, then you will go to prison for kidnapping.”

“Lights,” he said.

Small booms filled the warehouse as the lights came on. Lit the place up pretty brightly, really making her red, white, and blue costume’s colors pop. Super Mom’s eyes widened, heart skipping a beat.

“Fourth Reich,” she whispered, mouth dry and throat tight. “Oh no, no, no.”

Her heart thundered as she looked upon ranks of men in the black uniforms of the Movement’s elite Aryan Guard. They looked so pleased, so damned arrogant as they walked slowly towards her. It got harder to breathe, to even think straight. She’d never been in that situation before. Most super heroine suffered minor setbacks, where the bad guys got control of her. They usually did very nasty things to those poor heroic beauties, before she escaped. Other heroines just vanished, never to be seen again.

“Listen, right now you are just facing armed robbery charges,” she said, her distress dripping off every word. “Let me go, and I can help with that. I’ll speak to the district attorney in your behalf.”

“That’s hilarious,” their leader said. “Bargaining for your life. How pathetic.”

He stopped to her right, reached down, and palmed a boob. She cried out in protest when he gave her a little squeeze. Then he yanked her costume down, making both tits plop out and jiggle as they hung below her. The pervy bastard then pinched, pulled, and twisted her sensitive nipples for a few minutes, while ignoring her protests.

“You metahumans all have the best tits,” he growled. “By the way, the name’s Mueller. Captain Tom Mueller. You are my prisoner, Super Mom. Time to consummate our relationship.”

“No. I mean it,” she cried. “I’m a married woman with children. I cannot… Ah, shit.”

Yeah, he ended the conversation by unzipping her costume. He peeled that strapless corset-teddy off her shapely body, leaving it crumpled at her stiletto-heeled feet. Super Mom closed her eyes, moaned, and wiggled. Her body energized when he stripped her. Oh, she knew what was coming. She’d feared it every day of her heroine career.

Captain Mueller shifted behind her. She slanted worried looks over her shoulder, pleading with her eyes. His eyes were consumed with her body. His hands roamed shamelessly. She wiggled and writhed, but couldn’t avoid his touch to save her life. And then a hand slipped between her legs from behind.

“Aaiiee! Don’t touch me there,” she cried. “I’m a super heroine. Show me some respect.”

“Oh, I’m about to show you respect,” he said, voice deeper and drenched with desire. He pulled out his erection. “See it? My dick’s name is Respect. He’s very pleased to meet you.”

One hand holding her hip, Captain Mueller guided his cock to her glistening wet pussy.

“Keep that thing away… Oh, fuck me.”

“That’s the plan,” he said.

He rubbed his dick all over and around her fleshy slit. That intimate touch fired her libido, turning her lower belly and pussy into a white hot mess. Memories of the previous two nights returned. The shame of how she fucked one man after another, and really enjoyed all that sex way too much. So bad. Was this karma come to extract its pound of flesh? Had her intimate betrayal of her marriage vows doomed her?

Or was it just evil men?

“Listen. Captain Mueller,” she gasped out. “Before this goes any further, let’s be reasonable. Can’t we talk?”

“I’m open to a conversation,” he said. Mueller grinned with wicked glee as he tugged her pussy open, and then guided his cock between her wet folds. “Damn, you have a wet ass pussy, Super Mom. Maybe your name should be WAP Mom.”

The Nazi soldiers laughed. Her face heated up. So hot. Tears began to well up in burning eyes. Fear, terror, began to overwhelm her shame.

“Wait. Wait, can’t we — ” she started. He thrust into her. “Ugggh! Ooooh, dammit. Ooooh, fuck.”

“You got a dirty mouth, Super Mom,” he said. “We might have to wash it out… With cum.”

“You’re a pig.”

Someone turned on the machinery above. Super Mom had bigger concerns. Captain Mueller’s cock stretched her out so nicely, sending the most incredible sensations spiraling up into her overheated body. She bucked, wiggled, and writhed, all to no avail. The Nazi officer remained inside her, pumping slowly, pushing deeper and deeper.

“Oooooh. So wrong.”

“So wrong it’s right,” he said.

Captain Mueller started fucking her faster and faster. Soon, he was fully sheathed, his balls slapping her taint, his hips slapping against her butt cheeks. He leaned over and fondled her tits with both hands as he moaned and groaned. His sounds of pleasure hit her hard, and soon Super Mom’s soft grunts turned into tiny sounds of distress and pleasure. Her thoughts stilled, and she just basked in the erotic pleasure.

Hot liquidy heat flushed through her shapely body. Her eyes rolled up when that rush to climax rolled through her. And then her core erupted with pure nirvana.

“Aaaagggh!”

“Thar she blows,” one of the Aryan Guards said.

“And here I come,” Captain Mueller gasped out. “If it’s a boy, name him Thomas.”

Super Mom moaned when she felt the wet heat of his seed fill her deep inside. Her back bowed, and she let out a shuttering groan of shameful pleasure. Why did a man coming inside her arouse her so much? And it wasn’t just her husband climaxing, but any man.

So wrong.

Her climax throbbed within for a moment or two longer. She couldn’t help but bask in it. Savor it. The raven-haired heroine had a bad feeling the only pleasure she’d ever know for the foreseeable future would be climaxes. Worse, it would be Heike von Greve and the Fourth Reich Movement having their way with her.

A machine clicking kind of noise pulled her back to the here and now. Looking up and around, she spotted a chain lowering behind her. There was a bright silver hook on the end of that chain. A silver ball covered the tip of the hook. It took a moment, but she finally recognized what she was looking at.

“Anal hook?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“Got it in one,” Mueller said. “You’re smarter than you look, Super Bimbo.”

Before she could respond, another Nazi approached with a small red cannister. A clear breathing mask was attached. Her eyes widened. Then two more Nazis moved up close to either side. They held her still, while Mueller pressed the ball-tip of the anal hook against her anus.

“Relax, Super Mom,” he said. “There’s nothing you can do to stop us, but it’ll hurt a whole lot more if you don’t cooperate.”

“Are you all insane!”

Mueller couldn’t push the anal hook’s ball past her puckered anus. She enjoyed that small victory, but knew whatever gas was in that cannister would end her struggle.

I’d rather be knocked out when he forces that thing inside me.

Applying lubricant to her sphincter, Captain Mueller grinned, pressed the anal hook to her butt hole, and then slammed the butt of his palm against it. The ball vanished inside her in a flash. Super Mom cried out, back bowed. An incredulous expression spread across her masked face.

“Yeah, she felt that.”