Super Mom: Besieged (Chapter 22) (Patreon)

Chapter 22

“Mmm,” Super Mom moaned as she bobbed on a jailer’s cock. “Mmm. Mmm.”

Another jailer lay on the cold steel floor beneath her, aggressively fondling her tits. The raven-maned heroine straddled him, bouncing up and down his erection with some enthusiasm. Her dual efforts had her tits and butt bouncing and jiggling like jelly. 

Like all of her jailer/handlers, they were average height, but stocky men. Physically powerful men. Mean and aggressive men. There was a look about them they couldn’t hide. Both were covered in tattoos, heads shaved. 

Thwack.

“Uh.”

It was just a tap, a light slap across the face as she sucked his dick. All of her jailers did it now. Slapped her to remind Super Mom that she wasn’t powerful anymore. She wasn’t beloved by one and all anymore. She was cast down. Nothing. Just pretty fuck meat for the boys.

Thwack.

“Mmmm.”

“I’m going to miss our three-a-days when you go to prison, Super Mom,” Jackson said.

She cut her violet eyes up to lock with his as she continued to suck the guard’s dick. Below her, Cord groaned and started thrusting up into her as she continued to bounce. Jackson’s cock swelled, telling her he was about to come.

“Mmmm.”

Super Mom squeezed her pussy tight around Cord’s cock. She bounced a little faster, increasing the stimulation for both of them. At the same time, she took Jackson to the back of her throat and allowed herself to gag on it. Oh, that stoked his libido! 

Her other handlers started filing in. That surprised the hapless heroine. Were they planning to pass her around? Gangbang her? In the three months of her incarceration, they all gathered in her cell about every three or four days to really pound her long and hard. But they’d gangbanged her the previous evening, starting with the departing day shift and going over into the incoming second shift. Fucked her for hours.

She wasn’t completely recovered.

“There you go, sweet lips,” Jackson gasped out as he flooded her mouth with hot cum. “Don’t swallow. Show us all first.”

Super Mom waited for him to stop ejaculating, then slowly pulled out with a pop. She tilted her head back, opened her mouth, and let them all look at the cum pooled in her mouth. Then Jackson gave her permission to swallow, which she did without hesitation.

Licking her lips, she turned her full attention to Cord. He was becoming frantic beneath her, his face red and strained. The beautiful heroine bit her lip, squeezed her pussy even tighter, and bounced up and down his shaft. Every thrust up into her trembling, overheated body felt divine. It sent a jolt through her, energizing her libido to the max. Super Mom moaned and groaned, hands splayed on his chest as she put more and more effort into getting him off. And that pushed her closer and closer until…

“Aaaagggh! Oh Master!” she cried, insides erupting. “Oh Master, yes. Yes, Master.”

Her cunt clamped down hard when she climaxed. Cord gasped and groaned, hands squeezing her tits so hard twin streams of hot mother’s milk squirted out all over his face and chest. He thrust up into her, fully sheathed, and held it as his seed pumped into her. A deep sense of accomplishment washed through the quivering heroine, already enjoying the afterglow.

She finally lifted her head and looked around. Her entire day shift surrounded her, smiling and nodding approval. So many tented trousers, all promising more, more, more sex and debauchery. Just the thought made her feel tired and worn out. It was endless, whether she fought them or submitted.

Then she noticed Jed, the head of her handlers, was holding her folded costume. He placed it on her bunk and grinned at her.

“Put it on, Super Mom,” Jed sneered. “The judge is ready to hear your plea.”

“The judge should’ve held this hearing three months ago,” she said, eyes now sullen as bitterness welled up within.

“We’ve been busy. Wash up and get dressed.”

“Where’s my mask?”

“Everyone’s seen your naked face, bitch. And no one is allowed to stand before the judge with a mask on,” he said. “Now take a shower.”

The shower was just one corner of the cell, next to the toilet. She stood there under icy cold water with just a bar of cheap soap. Everyone watched her bathe, leering at her. Oh, she had a bad feeling about what would happen after her hearing. Once back in that cell, stripped naked, they could do anything they wanted to her. And they would indulge their darkest lusts and yearnings.

Once she scrubbed off their cum and sweat, Super Mom was ordered to do her face and hair. Apparently, they wanted her to look her very best. She suspected it was more for the jailers, so afterwards they could fuck her at her very sexiest. But she obeyed, making up her face, though she just parted her waist-length hair down the middle, letting it fall loose and glossy. And then they let her start dressing.

Jed handed her the thigh boots first. She pulled them on, hearing several jailers groan and growl. She cast them a nervous look, licking her lips and tingling inside and out. Next, he gave her the gloves. 

Bastard wants to keep my girlie bits exposed as long as possible.

Finally, she received the red, white, and blue stars and stripes corset-teddy costume. She quickly pulled it onto her shapely body. Super Mom paused to revel in the almost forgotten feeling of being clothed. Despite it being just a skimpy, revealing super heroine costume, it felt so amazing to have clothing on again. She almost felt normal, like a human being instead of a piece of fuck meat.

Jed pinched her chin, lifting her face as he pulled her glossy red lower lip down. Such lust and desire spread across his brutal face. 

“My God, you truly are the most beautiful super heroine in the world,” he whispered. “I’ve enjoyed fucking you so much. I really hope the judge sets your trial date for two, three years down the line. I want you here to fuck for as long as possible.”

“I’ll be sure to demand my Constitutional Right to a speedy trial,” she said, jerking her face away.

Instead of punishing her audacity, the jailers chuckled. The fact they were in such a good mood, showed such confidence, worried her. They knew something that she wasn’t going to like. Of that she was sure.

Two jailers each grabbed an upper arm, and Super Mom was taken out of the cell for the first time in three months. That act hit her hard. Three months in solitary, yet she was rarely alone. Her handlers kept her busy, entertained. Busy actively sucking and fucking. She struggled to remember what it felt like to be free.

The jailers escorted the legendary super heroine through the underground jail, through high security doors, up and down steel passages where her every step rang like a bell. She was pretty sure they led her a circuitous path to confuse her, so she wouldn’t know which direction to go if she ever escaped her cell.

They finally reached an elevator large enough for them all. It was a high security elevator, too. She stood tall and proud, trying to at least project strength and confidence. Then the elevator reached the top and dinged, and her house of cards collapsed inside.

“Oh God,” she gasped.

Her fate was about to be decided. Not ultimately, but the judge would hear her plea, and then set bond. She’d be released if she could afford the bond. That was a big if, too. So far nothing was going her way. Confidence was not high.

The doors opened into a crowded lobby. Everyone perked up when they spotted her stepping out amongst them. Every set of eyes locked on her, some with looks of wonder, others with scowls, but most with smug looks of satisfaction.

Jed stepped ahead of them, leading the way down the police headquarter’s long, expansive ground floor lobby. They caused a minor stir among the citizens there, all stopping to gawk and point. Super Mom kept her face placid, eyes straight ahead. Yet, shame burned deep and hot. They were forcing her to make another perp walk in full view of the public. She knew there were underground tunnels to the Judicial Building next door. This was for show and PR.

Police Headquarters was butted up against the courthouse. They made a commotion when they entered the Judicial Building. Instead of an elevator, Jed led them up wide stairs to the second floor. She was taken to the right, and to Judge Wilma Woolworth.

The judge was waiting, along with the district attorney and another lawyer. Judge Woolworth was a middle-aged redhead, hair up in a bun like a school marm. The DA was a silver-haired man, known as a player in the in local dating scene. He dated all of the city’s richest widows and divorcées. They split up when Super Mom entered. The other man was tall and skinny. He looked so young. Too young to be a lawyer, but he took a place behind the defendant’s table.

My lawyer?

She knew her lawyer was a public defendant. As Super Mom she had no financial resources. She wasn’t able to call her husband, because that would identify him to the police and the 4th Reich. So she had to take the only other option available. 

That was the first time she’d seen her lawyer: Nate Boswick. He did not inspire confidence in her.

“Mr. Boswick,” she said, giving him a nod. 

He smiled weakly. “Miss…um…Super Mom.” He frowned. “What is your real name?”

“Super Mom,” she said. “No middle initial.”

Nate looked stunned, then nodded as the judge cleared her throat. The bailiff called the court to order, and announced the judge. Everyone sat. Super Mom glanced at the window. It was a huge window overlooking a city park. And then two familiar faces appeared, just floating in from either side.

Turbo and Vixen! She thought, suddenly excited.

She couldn’t imagine they’d break her out. That would get them charged with felonies. But at least they were there to support her. Well, she hoped they were supporting her. 

“Will the defendant stand, please,” Judge Woolworth said. 

The judge read the charges against her. Super Mom listened calmly. The charges were as expected. Assault and battery. Destruction of private property. Resisting arrest. Terrorist threats against a public figure, i.e. the mayor. She thought the latter BS, but would have to fight it in court. While the charges weren’t all that bad, the judge referred to them all as felonies. So they were throwing the book at her. They definitely wanted to send her to prison.

“How do you plead?”

“Not guilty to all charges.”

“Very good,” Judge Woolworth said.

“The state requests the court not grant bail,” the DA said.

“What?” Super Mom cried. “Everyone gets let out on bail.”

“Not everyone, woman,” he snapped. “You are a flight risk. Hell, you can FLY. Once that collar comes off, you will be almost impossible to capture.”

“Your honor,” Nate said. “My client has been a respected member of society for years. A beloved public figure, as well. She has shown her respect for the law and courts for years, and is an actual super heroine. She is in no way a flight risk. Super Mom is eager to prove her innocence in court.”

The judge stared at Super Mom a long minute. Her eyes narrowed.

“Bail denied,” she said. “This court believes she is a flight risk. Defendant will remain in police custody through her trial.”

Super Mom gasped, head spinning. They were going to take her back down into the Dungeon. Back to her cell. Back to HELL. A quick glance at the window showed both heroines frowning, then they slowly pulled away and vanished to either side.

All hope vanished. Super Mom suddenly felt empty. Abandoned. Lost. They weren’t going to allow her to escaped their “justice.” The court was firmly in the 4th Reich Movement’s side. Was the judge a sympathizer? They did refer to her as the “Hanging Judge.”

“We’ll come back in three months and decide on a trial date,” Judge Woolworth said. She looked down to review her schedule. “How about…”

Super Mom just heard three more months of sexual use and abuse. Her heart, her mind, her very soul rejected the idea. Not going to happen. She’d be destroyed as a woman before they even set a trial date. So she flipped the table. The courtroom erupted with screams and shouts. 

The heroine hurled her chair through the window and then took off running to it. The jailers and bailiffs charged after her, starting to close. But it was a small room and she reached the shattered window in seconds, and promptly leapt out. No hesitation. Of course, normally she could fly. Didn’t matter, since she was only on the second floor. 

Falling to the park below, she tucked and rolled back to her feet. It hurt, but not that much. Her Super Mom body, even with her super powers nulled by the collar, could take more of a beating than her real Bethanny body.

Super Mom raced through the park, the people turning to stare. No one cried out, or showed any sign of fear. She was a well-known and trusted super heroine. Honest citizens didn’t fear her.

Leaving the park, she turned into a dark alley. 

“I have to find a way to get this damned null collar off.”

“I would certainly think so,” a familiar voice said from above.

Looking up, she found Vixen smiling down at her. Then Turbo flew up behind her, hit the ground running, and scooped her up. Turbo took off flying past Vixen, Super Mom in her arms.

“Long time no see,” Turbo said. “Let’s go somewhere safe and discuss what is happening.”

“You’re not going to turn me over to the police?”

“Hell no,” she said. “We’ve been poking around, and have figured out that you are being setup to take a fall. I’m pretty sure Reich Star is pulling all the strings.”

“Exactly. Finally, someone understands,” she said, finally able to relax.

Moments later, Turbo landed just outside of the city, in a wooded area. Vixen joined them. Super Mom stepped back and looked back and forth between their faces. Neither looked wary or accusatory.

“I haven’t told her about her family,” Turbo said to Vixen, who nodded with a grim face.

She gave the shapely Latina a sharp look. What about her family?

Super Mom looked her good friends over. At least they looked unaffected by all that had gone down. There were still super heroines protecting the city, strong and respected by the citizenry. Turbo was fast becoming their leader, despite being just twenty-one and barely out of her rookie year. The tall, shapely Latina flipped long brown hair back over her shoulders as she regarded her. She had a new costume, though the same color scheme of dark red with gold trim: strapless corset-teddy like Super Mom’s, with matching opera gloves and thigh boots.

Vixen brought a wrench-like device that deactivated the Null Collar. Super Mom looked her over as she stepped closer to remove the collar. The gorgeous redhead had the bustiest body of all the heroines, sheathed in a tight reddish-orange, strapless corset-teddy. Same color as her long hair. While she’d recently changed the color of her mask, choker, gloves, and thigh boots to black.

“Hold still,” Vixen said, bright green eyes narrowing as she worked. “This will short out the collar. I just need to… Got it!”

Super Mom’s powers flowed back into her body, making her moan with pleasure and a deep sense of rightness. She reached up, dug her fingers under the collar, and tore it open. Now the collar was completely destroyed. Yeah, it felt good to be back.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now I just have to prove my innocence. That’s not going to be easy as a fugitive.”