Super Mom: Besieged (Chapter 18) (Patreon)

Chapter 18

Super Mom struck an aggressive pose, violet eyes narrowed. Her hands curled into fists.

“I hope you had a good time, boys,” she rasped out in a loud whisper, dripping with menace. “Because it just took a turn for the worse. For you.”

No one moved for a moment, then Jake charged her with a wild battle cry. The busty, naked heroine flew up and at him, one foot slamming into his face so hard the Aryan Guard flipped completely over three times in the air before landing face down and spread-eagle. They others gawked at their cohort, then got angry.

“Come at me, miscreants.”

They charged her en masse. Super Mom hovered a foot off the floor, watching and waiting. At the last second, she surged backwards as if afraid. The men cried out in victory, whereupon she flew up and over them. Then she smashed into the back of the last man, causing a domino effect that took down five of them.

Super Mom juked left in midair, got the still standing men to commit, and flew super fast to the right. She slammed into their flank, bowling the rest over. But one and all started rising to their feet.

“This is me opening up a can of whip-ass,” she snarled.

The raven-maned beauty surged into them like a tiny tornado. A F5 tornado. Fists, feet, knees, and elbow shattered jaws, eye sockets, ribs, arms, and legs. She put all of her pent up frustrations, rage, and fury into that fight, taking her pound of flesh in less than a minute.

Super Mom landed in the middle of the cell. Moaning and groaning men lay all around her. All broken and bloody. The floor, walls, even the ceiling was splattered with their blood. She looked around, lip curled, and it was good.

“Considering what you did to me, and the joy it gave you,” she said. “You all got off easy.”

She walked over to the corner where the rest of her costume lay crumpled up. She pulled on the strapless corset-teddy first, taking a moment to plump her boobs in the blue breast cups. She smoothed down the red and white, vertical stripes, so happy they were back on her body. Then the heroine buckled the wide silver belt around her waist, letting it drape over her well-rounded hips at a sassy tilt. She couldn’t get the now broken and inactive Null Collar off. More troubling, she couldn’t put her mask back on without fashion glue, so Super Mom pulled her long white opera gloves on as she departed the cell.

It was the facility’s prison floor. Thirty foot ceilings allowed for three levels of cells. Two levels of catwalks lined the corridor above, with guards patrolling up there.

The long, black corridor bottom floor wasn’t empty. Fourth Reich guards were spaced along it’s length. They did a double-take on her. She smiled back. Then two of them started towards her.

“Some people make bad decisions,” she muttered. The empowered heroine smiled. “And others take advantage of those poor decisions.”

Super Mom stood there perfectly still until the first Nazi guard reached her. He grabbed her left wrist. A classic move of so-called alpha males. Funny how he thought just grabbing her like that put him in absolute control of her, a mere woman. Since he was a head and a half taller than her, she slanted a smug smile up at him.

“Oh no,” she taunted.

Super Mom effortlessly twisted her wrist free, punched him in the throat, and then seized his arm. The heroine used her super powers to lift him off the floor, even as she rose up. She started spinning around and around, taking him with her. She built up speed, his body horizontal to the floor they were spinning so fast.

And she released him to smash into the next guard rushing her. That did not have a chilling effect on the other guards in the corridor. Just the opposite. One and all came charging in. She heard at least two of them calling to warn their superiors that she was attempting an escape.

I’m going to do more than attempt.

She showed them why Super Mom was the nation’s top super heroine. The corridor’s thirty foot high ceiling allowed her to fly up in small and big loops, just to come back down in super fast and powerful attacks. She quickly left the ground level guards in tattered, bloody piles.

“Sorry, but you boys are too slow,” she said, flying toward the elevator bank.

She ignored the elevators, which could easily be shut down to trap her inside. Instead, she entered the emergency stairwell. Angry male voices could be heard above and below her. The escaped heroine started flying up, in a corkscrew movement up the countless flights.

Super Mom plowed into the first group of Nazi soldiers blocking the stairs. She could’ve flown over them, but… She didn’t. The heroine flew straight into them, spinning into a savage attack at the last second. Men went flying in all directions, blood splashing on the white painted walls. She didn’t take the time to ensure they were out cold, but just fought her way through them and continued flying up, up, up.

Time was running out, so she ignored and flew over the men trying to block her way after that brief encounter. They didn’t have the reach to stop her or hinder her passage in any way. So she flew as fast as she could without getting dizzy. But then near the top…

“Blitzkrieg,” she muttered. “Why am I so happy to see you?”

Blitzkrieg wore her dark blue costume, with black mask, gloves, and boots. Super Mom’s eyes locked on the golden swastika emblazoned on her belly. A symbol she hated, for many reasons. Now some of those reasons were quite personal.

“You’re not going anywhere, Super Cunt.”

“Correction, MetaBitch,” she said, eyes narrowing. “I’m about to go straight through you.”

“Aw, you are so adorable, thinking I care if you insult my old abandoned heroine nam — ”

Super Mom surged straight into the smug Nazi metahuman. A fist to the chin cut off her comment, followed by a knee to the ribs. Blitzkrieg tried to twist away, but Super Mom got a fistful of flame red hair. She hurled the powerful Nazi down the stairs. Then she started flying up and away.

Blitzkrieg screamed in rage, and came streaking back up to smash into Super Mom’s back. She seized a handful of hair, and threw the heroine face first into the wall. Super Mom bounced off, spinning into the attack. She hit Blitzkrieg ten times before the beleaguered metahuman realized what was happening.

And that’s when Power Star came flying down the stairwell.

Super Mom threw Blitzkrieg at the blonde metahuman. Power Star threw a bold of energy at her, just grazing Super Mom’s left thigh. It hurt, but not even close to crippling. They spun around each other, trying to close, but Power Star continued to throw bolts. She understood that it was over if Power Star laid hands on her, too. Even she couldn’t withstand the other metahuman’s control of electricity with physical contact.

“Aaaaaiiiieee!” Blitzkrieg screamed as she streaked down at her.

The redheaded Nazi body-checked Super Mom out of the air, sending her tumbling painfully down a flight of stairs. The discombobulated heroine found herself crumpled at the base of the wall, head spinning and body aching in a million places. Power Star cried out in triumph, and came down at her. Blitzkrieg used her ultra speed again, zipping past Power Star to get at their prey.

Panting, Super Mom saw the redhead blur towards her. She immediately kicked up, driving a stiletto into the other metahuman’s forehead. It was as much luck and skill. Still, Blitzkrieg’s limp body smashed into her. Power Star was half-a-second behind her, so Super Mom surged up to her feet, carrying Blitzkrieg’s unconscious body with her. And she flung that limp body straight into Power Star, who instinctively zapped it.

“Fool,” Super Mom snarled, spinning into a roundhouse that drove a stiletto into Power Star’s head.

That blow knocked the blonde out, and the two Nazi metahumans went tumbling down the stairs. Super Mom barely gave them a second look before taking off to get the hell out of there. She flew all the way to the top, bypassing the ground floor, to go the few remaining floors above ground. She emerged on the rooftop of a three story office building.

Super Mom shot off that rooftop like a missile. She vanished into the darkness in nothing flat, flew a large loop around the city, before coming to a landing in the backyard of her home.

“Alter ego!” she cried even as she ran toward the back door.

Kyle opened the door, looking shocked, and rushed towards her. They met in a fierce embrace, both crying as they held on so tightly. Both afraid to let go.