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The Superheroine Experience - 1
🕑 Added 2024-09-02 03:14:47 +0000 UTCAN: A new project from the commissioner who funded Wonder Woman: Twisted Dominion. Hope you enjoy!
- - -
Heeled boots clicked against the sidewalk. There was a chill in the air, prickling at Zatanna’s skin even through her long, dark coat. Or maybe it was just her nerves. She was antsy, true. But it was from excitement, not worry.
She had a gig tonight. And from a venue she’d never heard of before. All new place. All new audience.
Zatanna Zatara wanted to make a lasting impression.
The young witch smirked to herself as she continued further into the heart of downtown Metropolis. More than one of her fellow Leaguers had asked her why she bothered to still do magic shows. Doing double duty as entertainer and superheroine had to be exhausting - and it’s not like she needed the money, what with the generous Justice League stipend. Zatanna would always shake her head. None of them would ever truly get it.
Sure, scheduling shows between stretches of League business was often tricky - and ate into her free time to boot. But Zatanna was a showwoman at heart. If there was anything in this world she truly, truly loved, it was dazzling the masses. Enchanting them, really.
Already she was getting into the groove. Even her walk had changed. She was strutting now - long legs carrying her forth in a well-practiced, enthralling march. She’d learned to use everything the almighty had given her, including the allure of her natural gifts. Her mystique, as some of her friends had put it.
Zatanna was no stranger to having eyes on her. It came with the job. Hell, it was desired. Captivating an audience was a rush like no other. And if setting one or two tongues wagging in the process gave her that extra edge…
She could feel eyes on her even then, strutting down the sidewalk. Her coat may have been long and dark, but it clung to her tightly, giving a faint glimpse at the figure hidden beneath. And nothing could hide those boots of hers, nor muffle the sound of her heels. Surely, her long black locks were bouncing with each step.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
The Mistress of Magic was enthralling even incognito, Zatanna noted with some pride.
Eventually, she came to a stop. She had reached the address as directed. The raven-haired witch narrowed her eyes as she took it in. Briefly, she wondered if there might have been a mix-up.
She had expected a theater, a hotel perhaps. Any sort of venue, really. But what stood before her was a regular building. Nondescript, even among the modern office towers that rose up around her. Gray steel and dark windows stretched five stories up, supported by pillars of smoothed concrete.
Zatanna fished the business card from her coat pocket. She read out the address twice just to be sure. There was no mistake.
This was the place.
Zatanna chewed on her tongue. Then she stuffed the card back into her pocket. A gig was a gig. And she’d given shows in stranger places.
The witch went on, enjoying the stirring in her gut.
There were two doormen who awaited her. Both were on the larger side, looking more like bouncers - if not for their red uniforms and short-brimmed hats. Thick-necked and hard-faced were both fellows… but they seemed to light up when they saw her. The recognition on their faces was clear. For the celebrity heroine, it was more than a little pleasing.
They pulled the tall, heavy doors open for her. Zatanna gave them a smile and wave as she passed.
“Gentlemen.” Her tone was sweet. There was the tiniest hint of flirtation, too. Something that would no doubt lift their spirits.
Inside, she found a lobby. Nothing that screamed event or theatrical, though. But it was much fancier than she was expecting.
The atmosphere was classy, verging on ritzy. The warm hues of the walls and lighting fed into an air of coziness. But the furniture, the sleek, polished tables, and the fountain… the clash with the drab exterior told a story of money. Big money and big privacy.
Zatanna found herself smiling again. This was getting more and more interesting.
She scanned her surroundings. A few people were lounging about. All men. All dressed in sharp business attire. A couple of them glanced her way. One even seemed especially interested.
She let their eyes meet… and let the contact linger for a moment before moving on. He’d keep his eyes on her for the whole damn show, for sure.
These were high-end clientele. And she was in the business of high-end performances.
There was a receptionist desk at the far end of the lobby, staffed by a lonesome, pretty blonde. Zatanna started on her way… but she only made it half the distance before another figure smoothly swept into view.
Another woman, slightly older but no less gorgeous. Dark brown hair was done up in a sleek, tight bun, pulled away from an elegant face. Vibrant turquoise eyes met Zatanna’s, colored with subtle satisfaction. Her flowing dress was a dark, shimmering red, cut low at the neck and split up to her thigh. Much was on display - but this woman had much to work with.
“Ms. Zatara.” The woman greeted her warmly. “You’re right on time. I must say, it’s a privilege to host you at my establishment.”
“The privilege is mine, Miss…”
“Sinclair. But you can call me Veronica.”
“Then you can call me Zatanna. A pleasure.” Zatanna offered her hand.
Veronica took it, smiling. Then the woman stepped back and gestured towards another set of doors, just past the receptionist station.
“Would you like me to show you to the dressing room?” Veronica asked.
Zatanna shook her head.
“No need. Egnahc otni wen tiftuo!”
It happened in an instant. The rush of magical power came like a gust of wind, whirling around her, through her, putting Zatanna at the heart of a swift, arcane storm. Her clothing, her coat, her dark pants, all turning to ribbons and vanishing into thin air. And at the very same time, new ribbons came to replace them, seeking her body, clinging to her skin. Almost every scrap of clothing changed. Only the boots remained. For Zatanna, it was one of her favorite parts of the job. For Ms. Sinclair, it was over and done with in a flash of light.
Zatanna stood, garbed in her showtime threads. White blouse snug to her chest wrapped tight under a cream corset. Black bottoms of thin fabric cut high on her waist - barely more than panties. And her legs, long and toned, poured into fishnet stockings - though the pair she wore today only came up to the middle of her thighs. Held up only by thin strips of fabric hooked to a garterbelt.
It was decidedly more racy than her usual magic show getup. But something told Zatanna that tonight’s audience would be a bit more mature than the usual all-ages crowd.
The enchanting witch did a little spin. A showing to let Veronica know that she was indeed getting what she paid for.
“Impressive.” The woman said, giving a polite little clap.
“The benefits of mastering the arcane.” Zatanna wore a proud smile, coming to a stop with her hands on her hips.
“But only you can make it look this good.” Veronica appraised. She turned and motioned for Zatanna to follow. “This way.”
The Sinclair woman led her through the next set of doors, then another. Soon they were in another sort of lobby. But this new room was more like a chamber. The architecture had changed. There was more elegance to the design and more extravagance as well. Opulent cushions and velvet curtains hung from the ceiling. Reds and purples and pinks. Exotic scents filled the air. The atmosphere was thick, warm. Inviting. Sensual.
And the people…
There were men as before, dressed sharp - or they had been. The ones Zatanna could see were far more relaxed here in this new lounge, with loosened ties and rolled up sleeves and unbuttoned shirts. Unbuttoned pants. Near every gentleman had a drink in hand, bourbon, vodka - maybe even a cigar, smoldering. They were there to kick back. To enjoy the finer things.
The women with them were the finer things. They were half-naked or mostly naked - in some cases they were fully naked. Some were curled up into a man’s side or sitting in his lap outright. Others were dancing on tables, offering up a tantalizing show of skin and sensuality. And others still were going far beyond that. Zatanna couldn’t see them but she could hear them. From behind drawn curtains rose the music of moaning and panting and wanton cries of delight.
The scent of sex was heavy in the air, rising even over that of smoke and alcohol.
Zatanna didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She simply smiled and kept on Veronica’s tail. She was there to do a job. She was there to put on a show. She was there to captivate, to mesmerize. And she was going to make damn sure her audience remembered her better than even the juiciest pair of tits.
Finally, Veronica brought her to yet another doorway - single this time.
“Right through that door.” Veronica told her. “Your audience awaits!”
And then it clicked for the young, beautiful witch. Or rather, she finally remembered why she was booked tonight. The stirring of excitement spun and spun in her belly, but there was also comfort. Comfort brought on by familiarity.
Silly girl, Zatanna told herself. How could you forget?
There was no crowd behind that door. Waiting for her on the other side was an audience of one. Tonight she would perform a private show. Just like last time. And just the way Jack liked it.
Zatanna Zatara breathed in, feeling a tingle dance down her spine.
“Showtime.”
Her body was buzzing as she opened the door and passed through that threshold. Waiting for her was a familiar face, one that brought a smile to her face and a warmth to her heart.
He was Jack Harris, a senior partner for some consultant firm that Zatanna couldn’t remember the name of. But she remembered Jack. The further Veronica led her into the bowels of this exotic club, the more Zatanna remembered. Jack was her number one fan, her extra special customer. And wealthy enough to afford an extra special performance from her. One on one. Just between the two of them.
Zatanna couldn’t begrudge such an enthusiastic fan. Especially when they looked like Jack.
He was a bit more than the average business professional - white, modestly handsome, sharply dressed, and surprisingly fit for a man in his early 40s. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, styled and swept back from the defined lines of his face. He was clean-shaven which only served to emphasize his jawline. Physically, he wasn’t quite at the level of some of Zatanna’s male hero colleagues. But he was a man. And for Zatanna, he was more than enough.
Jack was seated when she walked in, an empty tumbler set on a small side table. He smiled when he saw her and stood. Zatanna almost giggled. So respectful.
She looked past him and took in the rest of the room. Familiarity came rushing back once more. A large space colored with lights of warm red and feminine pink. There was a small stage taking up one side of the room with dark curtains that covered the wall behind. It was a basic platform, only elevated six or so inches from the carpeted floor. A stage meant for one and an audience of one. The only other furniture was the king-sized bed set against the opposite wall. For the aftershow, of course.
She knew this place - in fact, she’d been in that very same room quite a few times before. A room where she had taken part in more than her fair share of revelry. She saw Jack approaching her then. And in his eyes, Zatanna saw he was keen on a repeat performance.
“About time.” He said, chuckling. He took her in, his appreciative gaze covering her from head to toe. “I was getting restless.”
Like the men in the lounge before, Jack had loosened his attire to relax. He was sans his blazer - it was tossed over the back of his chair. His shirt was unbuttoned down to his chest, enough that Zatanna could see the beginnings of his chest hair. His sleeves were rolled up, snug around his forearms. She noted the faint definition of muscle there… and remembered all the ways he’d swept her into his arms.
She always drove Jack crazy. It was flattering, really. And it brought the young witch more than a little delight. The power to make a common man lose control, to drive him mad from sheer desire… there was nothing else quite like it.
“The anticipation is part of the fun.” She said, passing him. She brushed against his shoulder only slightly, but she knew it would stoke the fire that was brewing within. She tossed a look over her shoulder, fluttering her lashes just so. “And you know I’d never skip out on my number one fan.”
Sure enough, the glint in his eyes darkened. Where there had been excitement, there was no hunger. A craving for Zatanna.
“That’s why you’re worth the wait.” Jack breathed. The businessman sat back down, resting upon the cushioned recliner like a king upon his throne. He wore a pleased grin. “I’m liking the new outfit.”
Zatanna knew he would. She gave a spin, just as she did for Veronica. But this one was slower. She wanted him to see, to drink in every inch of her. When she came back to face him, the hunger in his eyes was even greater. And that delighted her.
“What can I say? I’m a crowd-pleaser.”
“You’re an everything-pleaser, sweetheart.”
Jack reached out, his fingers grazing just over the side of her calf. Through the fishnets, his touch was electric upon her skin. Then his hand began to rise, sliding up her leg. Past her knee, more than just his fingers now. His palm was moving over her full, lush thigh. And Zatanna allowed it. His touch was soft but also possessive. Warm and familiar. It thrilled her.
“God, your legs…” The man muttered, brushing his thumb over the swath of thigh that her fishnets didn’t cover. It was delicious fire upon her flesh, making her heart race.
It was clear he wanted to do much more than touch. Zatanna was even of a mind to let him. However, her professional spirit won out. She did have a show to perform after all.
Zatanna drew back out of his reach, wagging a finger at her bold, naughty fan. The smirk she wore was even more teasing, but she made sure her eyes offered wicked promises in turn.
“Save that for later.” She told him in a sing-song voice. “For now, sit back and enjoy the show.”
Jack relented. He leaned back into his cushioned throne.
Zatanna took to the stage. Her heeled boots clicked against the hard surface. She stood at the center of the platform before her audience of one. Her outfit felt so snug then, constricting a vibrant, lush body that yearned to bare itself. Zatanna took in a deep breath, snuffing out the urge to rip her blouse open. To touch herself. To grope herself. Her entire being was thrumming with desire.
“Welcome one and all to this very special magic show!” She announced in a cheery voice. But even that too wavered. Her blood was hot in her veins. Delicious heat flowing through every inch of her body. But the Mistress of Magic pushed on. “Saving the world is hard work. But I could never abandon my loyal fans. Tonight is a night to unwind. A night to… release all that pent-up stress.”
Jack’s smirk grew. It was clear he liked the sound of that.
So did Zatanaa. She met his gaze and matched his smile.
“Tonight… I’m going to show you how fun magic can be.”
- - -
The actual magic show was a breeze. It always was. The routine was second nature by this point.
She hit all the good beats, curated over years in the biz. Making stuff float, duplication, the whole vanishing act, even the old reliable of pulling stuff out a hat. All done with a small dash of exotic edge. Like some of the buttons on her blouse magically coming undone - opening just enough to offer up some cleavage and a tiny peek at her lacy black bra. Or dropping her wand or top hat on “accident”... and bending over at the waist to pick them up. With her back to the audience, of course.
Jack gave a wolf whistle. Zatanna gave him a cute, little wave. She knew how good her ass looked. And her legs. The fishnets were just the icing on the cake, just tight enough to show how plush she was. The band of fabric around her thigh bit slightly into the soft flesh. She was fit - she had to be to work in the Justice League. But her magical powers allowed for some leeway. She didn’t need the sort of hard body that Wonder Woman had.
And that little bit of softness to her curves went a long way. That sort of allure… few men could resist.
By the end of the routine, her movements had turned into something of a dance. A little extra umph in the way she turned, twisting her body to emphasize her figure. The swaying of her hips, calling attention to their width, their feminine swell. Then there was the expanse of her bosom, trapped behind the thin fabric. All that was keeping the good imprisoned were tiny, tiny buttons.
Hell, she wasn’t even on the stage anymore. She didn’t need to be. The stage wasn’t the show. She was.
She was sitting right in Jack’s lap. Straddling him as he lounged upon his cushioned throne. His was the face of a man getting exactly what he wanted, though his gaze was that of savage hunger. She could feel it, too. Beneath her, pressing through his pants and against her inner thigh. Inches from what that fat monster craved the most.
Zatanna was elated, eager, her body hot and buzzing with vigor. But the show wasn’t quite done yet. She had one last trick to play.
In her hands were playing cards. A whole stack fanned out, face down. She held them out to Jack, biting her lip.
“I want you to think of a number. Any number.”
“Alright.” Jack looked bemused, but played along. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Done.”
“Now pick a card. Any card.” Zatanna felt giddy, squirming just so upon the man’s lap. Heat danced in her belly, twisting and coiling and making her shiver. “If it’s your number, you get a prize.”
“But a playing card deck only goes up to ten. What if the number I thought of was fifty-two?” Jack asked, chuckling.
Zatanna only smirked. She held the cards out to him.
“Pick a card.” She insisted. Her voice was soft and full of promise.
Jack quirked one brow but did as he was told. He plucked one of the playing cards and turned it over. He let out a scoff, incredulous and charmed at the same time. Zatanna was giggling now.
The card in his hands was a Fifty-two of Hearts.
“Tup yawa eht sdrac.” The witch spoke. And thus it was so. The playing cards vanished into thin air.
“Looks like you’ve won a prize, mister.” Zatanna purred.
“Lucky me.” Jack sat back, awaiting. For Zatanna, the excitement was burning through.
“Lucky doesn’t begin to cover it.”
Zatanna went to work quickly, her fingers playing upon the yet undone unbuttons of Jack’s shirt. She hummed as she plucked them free, one, two, down and down she went. Until the man’s firm and fuzzy chest was revealed to her. She planted her hands there, threading her fingers through that field of dark curls. She always loved how soft his chest hair felt, how warm his skin was just beneath. She could feel his heart beating.
She eased her body forward, sliding even further into his lap. His hardened cock, still trapped in his pants, she could feel it jerking of its own accord against her. She could feel how warm it was.
Zatanna sighed, settling into her favorite seat. Her hands rose, sliding up Jack’s chest to rest upon his firm shoulders. She slid his open shirt away and he did the rest, untangling his arms from the sleeves. But all the while his focus was on her. He was mesmerized. He was enchanted.
The witch’s heart was pumping hot, frothing blood to every corner of her body. Her veins were simmering hot. She yearned for more than simple touch.
She dipped down and kissed him. Not a mere peck. She knew what Jack wanted. Their lip lock was deep, passionate. Ravenous.
She tasted his mouth, greeted with the faint flavor of whiskey. She moaned into the kiss, delight thrumming through every nerve as she felt his firm, strong arms curl around her waist, drawing her closer. His hands slid over her body. Up and down her back, over the curve of her hips, the swells of her ass. His touch craved every inch of sweetness she offered. It set her skin alight.
She leaned in as close as she could, draping herself over his bare chest. The warmth of him, his arms, his hands, the hunger of his mouth against her own… She never wanted to leave.
Finally, they pulled away. Both were panting, sucking in air.
“God, you’re amazing.” He growled. “And worth every penny.”
Zatanna gasped as he punctuated his words by clapping both of his hands upon her rump. The sting faded into a delicious ache. It fed into the giddiness, that wild heat brewing in the pit of her belly.
“That’s the showmanship in my blood.” Zatanna told him, wiggling her bottom upon his lap. “Gotta give the people what they paid for. And it feels like you’re ready for the main event.”
“Oh, God yes.”
A giggle bubbled up in her throat. The desperate need she felt through his pants was more than enough to spur her on.
“I think you’ve been patient enough.”
She drew back from his lap only to give herself some room to work. Her hands went about their business on her corset, unlacing it quickly, frantically. Jack even pitched in, plucking away at the remaining buttons of her blouse. Of course, she could have made herself naked with the simplest of spells. But where was the fun in that?
They kissed again as they tore at each other’s clothes, quick, hungry kisses that only prolonged their efforts. But the touch was so sweet, so delicious, that neither could resist.
Soon enough, both were near naked. The only scraps of clothing that remained to Zatanna were her bottoms, the fishnets, and her heeled boots. As for Jack, the last obstacle was his pants.
Zatanna slid down, putting herself on her knees between his legs. She reached out and touched his groin, pressing her fingers into the length against his thigh where the fabric bulged. Jack groaned, tensing just from her exploring fingers. Zatanna’s heart pounded and her belly coiled and twisted like a wild serpent. She was done waiting. Her hands went to undo his fly.
“Forget about pulling a rabbit out of a hat.” She joked, tossing the man above a lewd smile. “I want that carrot.”
“Fuck.” Jack huffed.
His pants came loose. She tugged them down his thighs. His cock flopped free. The meaty rod almost struck her about the face. Memories from before brought clarity as it did. She loved this man. She loved his touch, loved his desire. But most of all, she loved his cock.
“A really big carrot.” Zatanna breathed, staring at the tool before her with reverent eyes. She took him gently in both hands. He was even hotter between the legs, like a furnace just beneath the skin. “Wow. All this for me?”
Zatanna slowly, slowly slid her hands along his shaft. Familiarity returned to her as she did. She knew the ways he liked to be touched, to be teased. She began to pump him faster, leaning in to take a deep inhale of the musk coming off his cock and balls. The odor was thick and it made her shiver.
“Only the best for you.” Jack grunted, smiling.
“That’s my line, buster.”
Zatanna kept working her hands, jacking him off at a steady pace. He was so hard and hot in her hands. Throbbing in a way that stirred her belly something fierce. Her mouth was watering. She wanted to choke herself on him. But that would be for later.
Right now, she knew he craved the real prize.
She kept one hand on his cock as she rose to her feet, keeping him steady. With her other hand, she tugged aside her black bottoms. Her pussy was aching, dripping wet. This whole time her body had been preparing for him.
Zatanna crawled back into Jack’s lap, standing on her knees, hovering over him. Then… she eased herself down. Down. Down.
Jack’s face hardened. Zatanna hissed. His cockhead, fat and swollen, spread her wide as he entered. Inch after inch of his fat, veiny shaft followed. He was splitting her apart. It was exquisite.
Before long, her lovely ass was resting nice and pretty on his lap again. Zatanna moaned and trembled on the spot, her nails digging into the muscle of Jack’s shoulders. Every inch of that bastard of a cock nestled nice and snug in the tightness of her cunt. Right where it belonged.
It only took a moment to get used to his size. After all, she’d taken him before. Then she went to work. Rolling her hips so sweetly as to make him groan.
Her favorite customer… her number one fan… her boyfriend… he deserved only the best.
That look on his face, that expression of sheer pleasure… It thrilled Zatanna that it was all because of her.
“You like that, baby?” Zatanna touched his face as she rode him, staring deep into his eyes. They burned for her, an inferno of desire. Wild and savage. Consuming him from the inside out.
“Yeah.” Jack rasped. He held her by the hips, guiding her as she rocked and writhed in his lap. “Fuck yeah. Ride me.”
Zatanna obeyed. She rolled her hips, bringing herself to a frenzied pace.
His cock was so big and fat inside her, making her feel so damn full. Her insides were molten rock, stirring and ready to erupt in ecstasy. And Jack’s manhood was a torpedo, primed to bring about that fiery end. He was piercing so deep she wanted to scream.
It hurt. God, it hurt so good. Zatanna grit her teeth. The sounds spilling from her mouth were so lacking in grace and softness that she could hardly believe they came from her. Her cunt ached so wonderfully, craving more of Jack, more of his cock even as it felt like she was splitting apart.
Zatanna went faster, panting, gasping. Each stroke against her insides brought a wave of delicious feeling and unbearable heat. It poured through her body, through her flesh and bones, through her veins and nerves.
Jack sounded like a beast, grunting and cursing as she fucked herself on his cock. He cupped her ass, groping the plump flush through the fabric of her scant bottoms. Primal. Possessive. As if she was a prize.
“That’s it.” Zatanna moaned. “Hold me. Let me just… God!”
She cried out as she slammed down, sending his cock deep into her sex. Beneath her, Jack shivered then grew tense. Zatanna loved the feeling. It meant she had done her job right.
“You’re so fucking tight. Fuck!” Her boyfriend howled.
He came, sputtering a stream of curses as his balls emptied themselves into her sweet, silken womanhood. Zatanna felt every splash against her insides, shivering at each. Rope after rope after rope of hot, sticky cum. A dreamy smile spread across her face.
She had made him feel good. And that made her happy.
Zatanna kissed him on the cheek and lifted herself from his lap. She let out a soft sigh as his cock slipped free from her pussy, flopping back to rest against his leg.
Jack sank back into his seat. He was breathing deep and hard, taking long, labored breaths. His face was flushed red and beads of sweat had collected on his brow. Zatanna’s heart ached with adoration, seeing him so sated. His face was one of complete satisfaction… but he also looked just a bit apologetic. Her heart ached for that, too. It was sweet, knowing he wanted to last longer for her sake.
“Sorry.” He began to speak, leaning forward. “I-”
Zatanna pressed a finger to his lips.
“No apologies. I take this as a compliment. Plus…”
The Mistress of Magic gave her favorite customer- her boyfriend a saucy little smile. She slid down onto her knees again, positioned right between his legs. Without letting him get a word in, she took his slick, half-hard cock in hand.
She hefted the shaft up and swiped her tongue against the tip, tasting Jack and herself mingled together. It made her belly flutter. And it made her pussy clench.
“...I like cleaning up.” She told him.
She took him into her mouth. The sound of his groaning and cursing only spurred her on. She sucked hungrily, greedily, bobbing her head in steady rhythm for a time. His taste was delectable.
Even better was the feeling of his hands on her head. His fingers ran through her silky, black hair, gentle and affectionate. His touch was adoration. So Zatanna repaid him in kind.
Eventually, she drew back up, letting his cock pop wetly from her lips. She continued to pump her hands along his glistening rod, taking delight in how the shaft bulged with veins. She especially loved how the swollen thing throbbed against her fingers. Like it had a life of its own.
“You still with me, big guy?” She teased him.
Jack gave a faint nod. He looked like a man gone to heaven.
“Always.”
“Good.” Zatanna licked the tip again, moaning at the flavor. “I’ll get you rock hard again in no time. Then… you can show me how big a fan you are.”
She could have whispered a spell and had him ready instantly. But as she took him in her mouth again, tasting him on her tongue, feeling that flavor glide down her throat, she knew why she didn’t.
Doing it this way was much more fun.
- - -
Roulette kept her eyes on the screen. The live feed was coming crystal clear. And it brought her immense satisfaction.
It took only a short while for Zatanna to ease back into the role of the loving girlfriend. Even shorter than last time. That meant the influence over her mind was only becoming stronger.
The supervillainess took a sip of champagne, enjoying the sharp flavor. Though she had a feeling she enjoyed it only half as much as the witch under thrall enjoyed the taste of Jack’s fat cock.
Roulette had to admire the man. Like most of the clients who found the Mask & Cape, she had assumed he was nothing more than another stuffed suit. But his sessions with the Mistress of Magic had shown him to be… quite the talented lover.
And blessed, as well.
Roulette might have felt a small measure of envy for Zatanna Zatara. Up on the viewing screen, the superheroine witch was on her back and folded like a chair. Her legs were pushed up, up, her ankles beside her head. And Jack Harris was on top, pinning her down and fucking her.
If the screams were any indication, Ms. Zatara had found much happiness in slavery. Even if she had no idea that her mind was in chains.
“Look at them go.” One of her guests admired aloud. “Like rabbits.”
Roulette grinned. She took another small sip of champagne.
“Impressive, isn’t it? She takes to the girlfriend role like it was made for her. No hesitation. No faltering. It takes less and less effort each time. The mental influence is getting stronger. Soon it will be absolute.”
On the screen, Zatanna threw her head back, her raven hair sprawled out over the bed. Her lovely face was blushing a deep pink, her eyes wild and alight with sheer pleasure. Above her, Mr. Harris was snarling, grunting like an animal. His hips were driving hard and fast, pounding that massive cock of his into the witch’s soaking wet pussy.
The sight took Roulette’s breath away.
“And to think you doubted us.” The other guest spoke. Her voice was a low, sensual purr.
Roulette turned and smirked at her two partners. Both women, both radiant in their beauty. One green, the other orange. Both beyond mere mortals like herself.
Poison Ivy, the queen of plant and earth. And beside her, the exiled princess of Tamaran, Blackfire. An unlikely pair as Roulette had ever seen. But she would never turn away talent. Especially when they made her money.
And if they could make money settling grudges against the women of the Justice League, then it was all the sweeter.
“I had to be cautious. But I’ll never make the mistake of doubting you again.” Roulette offered. Up on screen, the fucking had become so wild the bed was rocking. Zatanna was clawing at Jack’s firm back, wailing as her cunt was molded to him. Ivy looked quite pleased. Perhaps there was some bad blood between her and the witch, but Roulette wasn’t interested in prying. “With your pheromones and the alien control tech provided by Ms. Komand’r, the influence we can hold over our subjects is stronger than anything on the planet.”
Ivy let out a dark laugh.
“And none of them have any clue. It’s perfect.”
“If anything, we’re doing them a favor.” Blackfire added, taking a more lurid joy in the action unfolding on the live feed.
Zatanna was near delirious in pleasure, begging the man she thought was her boyfriend for more. More cock, more thrusts, more, more more! She was desperate, so needy that it somehow wasn’t pathetic. It was so much more. It was art. Wicked and depraved, but art nonetheless.
“They get their rocks off and we get rich. I think that’s a fair trade!” Roulette turned and kept her eyes locked on screen. On Zatanna. She watched until the witch let out an ear-splitting wail of ecstasy. Above her, Jack Harris let out a final, beastly grunt and flooded her tight little pussy with seed once again. Roulette licked her lips. “A brothel staffed by superheroines, open to only the most elite clients. I must say, ladies… I’m ashamed we didn’t think of this sooner.”
Poison Ivy and Blackfire murmured in agreement. Like Roulette, their focus was on the superheroine they brought low. Nothing more than a pussy stuffed full of cock and cum.
Roulette couldn’t keep the smile from her face.
Veronica Sinclair had found her biggest score yet. And she was only getting started.
Comments
ryswell
I'm indeed aware of that game, but I honestly didn't think about it much when writing this. I mostly took inspiration from the commissioner's story notes. But I don't deny that both this story and that Lex Luthor game are inspired greatly by the DCAU, especially Justice League: Unlimited.
Sentinel1107
This reminds me of that Lex Luthor Adult Game based on the DC Animated Universe. In that Game you could catch Superheriones, mind Control them and let them work as strippers at Roulletes place or as prostitutes at Catwomans Brothel. Also you could hire supervillains and villainess as security and bouncers. Was that Game an inspiration for this story?
