Capítulo 94: Sonar's Glamor Gals (Justice League: Unlimited)
A/N: Sonar's Glamor Gals was a commissioned five-piece originally written from May-September of 2018. Compiling it now into a one-shot for people to enjoy!
Themes: Mind Control, Gangbang, Dom/Sub, Master/Slave
-x-X-x-
Huntress finds herself following Black Canary without the latter heroine's knowledge out of worry for a comrade more than anything else. She's noticed the Canary acting off lately. Her fellow heroine has been tired, sore, and completely out of sorts, as if she's been pulling long nights… or not sleeping well. But then, they all pull long nights, so that's to be expected. The blonde was perfectly capable of functioning before this recent downturn.
Which meant it was probably sleep… but that didn't do much to set Huntress at ease. She knew for a fact that her fellow heroine had had a bad breakup recently with Green Arrow. The pair had been a power couple in the Justice League for so long, and yet… well, when it wasn't meant to be, it wasn't meant to be she supposed. Huntress didn't mind the relationship ending if it made Canary happier, but she wasn't sure that was the case.
And so, she found herself stalking Black Canary through Gotham and eventually out of the city itself, following the blonde heroine as she went about her evening patrol. She told herself that it was because she was worried for the other woman. If anything were to happen to Canary in this state, if Huntress could have done anything to stop it, she would have been beside herself with grief and self-loathing.
So, to set her own conscience at ease, she was out here in the dead of night, backing Canary up rather than doing her own patrols. So far though, everything was good. They'd just made it to Bludhaven, and Huntress was ready to settle in for a relatively quiet night. Not that Canary wasn't likely to find trouble in the troubled town, but she fully believed that her fellow heroine could handle anything that Bludhaven had to offer.
Canary is slipping into an abandoned warehouse up ahead, so Huntress tears herself from her inner thoughts and focuses on the task at hand. Leaping from roof to roof, she eventually makes it to the very same warehouse that her comrade has just entered. Slipping into the rafters from the top of the building is as easy as pie, considering she's done it a thousand times before. Making her way to the middle of the rafters, Huntress puts eyes back on her current target, gazing down on Canary from above, even as the blonde stands there out in the open.
Out of the shadows walk five men in ski masks and tight-fitting muscle shirts. And by tight-fitting, hot damn does Huntress see some serious muscles on these guys. All five men look like serious bruisers, and studly to boot. Studly? Huntress blushes, unsure where that bit had come from. They were thugs, probably… but then, why was she checking them out more as men then as likely criminals?
Black Canary on the other hand, was as cool as a cucumber by comparison, even as she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, a hip cocked out to the side, and a confident smirk on her face.
"Hello, boys."
The masked men look between each other for a moment, and then one of them speaks for the others.
"Heya there, birdy. What's a lost little canary like you doing in a place like this? Don't you know there's some rough types around these parts?"
Canary scoffs, and Huntress grins from up in the rafters. Oh man, no matter how muscular these dudes are, she knows they don't have anything on her fellow heroine. This is going to be quick. Though, just in case Huntress prepares her twin crossbows, biting at her lower lip as she watches the continued byplay below.
"Oh, I know all about the rough types around these parts. But I'm really not sure there's anyone in this area who can handle little ole' me."
The way Canary is talking… it's certainly sexually charged. But that doesn't really surprise Huntress. She's seen the beautiful blonde heroine use her sex appeal to distract, confuse, and take down criminals more times than she can count. Considering what Canary is wearing, it's obvious that her beauty is as much a weapon in her arsenal as anything else she can bring to bear.
The spokesperson for the group of thugs snorts at that and glances around at the rest of the men he's with.
"Yeah? You lookin' to find out then, love?"
Canary's grin widens, and so does Huntress for a moment as she anticipates an abrupt start to hostilities. Her breathing slows, and she prepares herself to leap in the moment it looks like Canary can't handle the five on one. However, rather than taking up a fighting stance or launching herself at the talkative one of the group, Black Canary does something else. She does something that Huntress didn't see coming in a million years.
Canary pulls off her leather jacket and tosses it to the side, before reaching up and grabbing the top of her corset. Then, right in front of all five men and the hidden Huntress, she pulls it down, letting her confined tits bounce free entirely, the perky, pet orbs almost immediately settling on her chest as she sinks to her knees and gives the group of men a raunchy, lust-filled smile.
"And what if I am? Come and get it boys. Prove me wrong."
Huntress just stares, mouth agape and eyes wide in shock. She very nearly drops her crossbows from suddenly nerveless fingers, but her discipline allows her to catch herself at the last moment and set the weapons aside before they can fall to the ground below her and give away her presence. Even as she's getting ahold of herself, the five musclebound masked men share a glance and then move in as one, each of them reaching down to take their dicks out.
And those muscles certainly aren't compensating for anything. Beneath her own mask, Huntress is blushing up a storm at the sight of such huge, thick cocks protruding from their crotches. Canary, meanwhile, is a lot more proactive about things. As soon as they're in range, the blonde begins to stroke and lick and suck at the dicks all around her.
She moves between then with surprising fluidity, happily bobbing up and down on one shaft while jacking off two others, before swiftly moving on to the next so that none of the five that surround her are ever left out for too long. The skill with which Canary is sucking cock astounds Huntress… she'd never seen this side of her comrade before, but it's clear to her that the blonde wants this, that it's all consensual.
Clearly, it was set up beforehand. Clearly, Canary had a deal with these masked men that involved… this sort of thing. As Huntress takes in the view, she doesn't notice the first burst of static that emits from her communicator. Nor the second and certainly not the third. Instead, she finds herself feeling pretty voyeuristic, even as she takes in the sight of one of her fellow heroines getting an honest-to-god blowbang in an abandoned warehouse.
As the men begin to cum all over Canary's face, Huntress gets wetter and wetter, having to bite down even harder on her lower lip to keep from letting out a lust-filled moan. Of course, Canary doesn't have the same problem. She can be as loud as she wants, moaning and mewling and begging for more from the men around her as they give her 'tasty treat after tasty treat' (her words.)
The talkative thug laughs as he eventually grabs her by her blonde hair and drags her to her feet.
"Stupid little super slut! Wish I'd known before now just how easy you were!"
It's degrading, and Huntress feels a little outraged on Canary's behalf for her fellow heroine, but she has to admit that it's also a little hot… and judging by the way Canary moans and wiggles and touches herself as she stands there in the musclebound thug's grip, she finds it a LOTTA hot. Letting out a laugh, the thug holding her reaches out and grabs the crotch of her uniform, tearing at it with one hand, even as the others take that as permission to move in on her as well.
Suddenly, something becomes clearer. One of the things that had Huntress more than a little worried about her fellow heroine was the fact that Canary had had to order new costumes three times in the same number of weeks. Huntress rather thought she was getting a nice open glimpse of just why that was now. The men tore Canary's costume off of her piece by piece, taking souvenirs and keepsakes as they pleased, and discarding whatever bits they didn't want.
By the time they stop, Canary is barely wearing anything anymore… and she seems perfectly happy about that, the blonde heroine moaning and writhing, reaching out to stroke cocks that were hard once more now that they'd had some time to recover from the blowbang. And of course, after such a lewd, perverse event, there was only one way to go, and that was up.
The gangbang started next, and Huntress found herself reaching down to rub at her cunt through her costume as she crouched there in the rafters above. She didn't dare unzip her costume, but she couldn't deny that it just wasn't enough contact, even as the scene below got so much more erotic, so much hotter.
Canary took a cock back down her throat, a cock in her cunt, and a cock in her ass just like that. Meanwhile, her hands went back around the dicks of the last two thugs, even as all five musclebound men got down to extracting their pleasure from her. The blonde seemed perfectly at home being the group's bicycle, her eyes rolling back in her head as she let out muffled moans through the cock pistoning in and out of her throat, her tongue writhing this way and that along the underside.
Huntress was surprised more than anything else that Canary had no issue at all taking the one thug's dick right up her ass. There was no pain, no agony from what she could see from her position above. And that was a little strange, because the blonde heroine had once confided in her that one of the things that put strain on her relationship with Green Arrow was her refusal to do anal.
Now though, now she was handling it like a champ, and if that wasn't the hottest thing Huntress had ever seen, she didn't know what was! Grinding the entire palm of her gloved hand against her covered cunt now, Huntress brings up her other glove to bite down on the knuckles in order to stifle her voice. Luckily, the noises below more than cover up any whimpers or moans that might slip through the cracks, and the men are certainly doing their best to give humiliate and degrade the heroine they're all getting to fuck to their heart's content.
"Once a blonde, always a blonde! Don't matter if you're a super or not, I guess!"
"Hah, yeah, I once had a blonde who could do this thing with her tongue… damn though, this bird's way fucking tighter, I swear man!"
"She's even good with her hands. Wouldn't have pictured a heroine like this to be such a skilled little slut, ya know?"
"Well you don't gotta picture it anymore boys! This one is all ours! Our own little cum dump for the night, didn't I tell ya so?!"
"Hah, that you did boss! Hey, let's see what the birdie has to say for herself. Sing bitch, sing!"
That last bit is from the one in Canary's throat, and as soon as he pulls his cock back, she lets out a deep, wanton moan and then begins to do as she's told.
"P-Please! More, a-ah, more! I need it! I need all of y-your, oooh, coooocks! Fuck me with them, fuck me HARD! Fuck me, fuck me, fuuuuuck m-mmph!"
The man sticks his dick back in her throat and shuts her up. Canary immediately returns to sucking on his shaft, swallowing him down her esophagus like a boss as he laughs and holds her by her hair.
"Slut was getting a little broken-recordish, you know what I'm saying?"
The others all laugh at that admittedly lame joke, but even Huntress is a little aroused by it. Y-yeah… Yeah! Show that cum slut h-her place. Fuck yeah… it's getting harder and harder for Huntress to stay quiet, but she does so all the same, keeping her voice lower than the loud debauchery coming from below. Abruptly though, that all ends. The men each have their turn with Canary, and cum on her one final time. By the end of the gangbang, Canary ends up stuffed with cum in her lower holes and covered in seed from the tits on up, a wide smile spread on her cum-stained face.
The men all pull back when their leader snaps his fingers, and they all tuck their softening pricks away, much to the ruined, kneeling heroine's dismay as she mewls pathetically for a more. Sneering at her, the leader points to some idle drops of cum on the concrete floor of the warehouse.
"You want more, slut? Lick that up. Look at the mess you made."
The blonde's eyes light up and Huntress watches as the heroine does as she's told, amazingly enough. Canary gets down on her hands and knees and licks at the ground like a damn dog. Laughter bursts out of all the men surrounding her, and they shake their heads, even as they slowly begin to leave the blonde bimbo behind, catcalls and jeers thrown back at her while they depart from the warehouse, patting each other on the back and laughing all the way.
It's clear that if there's one thing Canary has been good for that night, it's bringing those men closer together. And satisfying all of their perverse lusts as they satisfied her own. Huntress is half-tempted to follow the men as well. Whether she's going to attack them or offer herself to them, she really doesn't know. In the end, the heroine doesn't have to find out which she'd choose, mostly because she decides to stay with her comrade instead.
She came out here for Canary after all, and no matter how horny she is, she's not going to abandon the blonde slut. Blinking at that, Huntress can't help but quietly giggle. D-Damn, now even she's thinking it. But honestly, what else WAS Canary if not a massive slut? After that display…
The blonde heroine slowly gets up off the ground, drawing Huntress' attention. Canary grabs her leather jacket, the last piece of her costume still intact, and slips it on as she leaves the warehouse behind. It's not long before she's on her motorcycle, uncaring of the way her bare naked cream-stuffed cunt is staining the seat. Huntress follows after her, moving back out onto the roof.
As she does so, she gets a look at Canary in the streetlight, her face still splattered with streaks of semen. Even as she kicks the motorcycle into gear, the blonde heroine reaches up and idly runs a couple of fingers through the streaks before licking them clean, clearly enjoying the taste. A full body shudder runs through Huntress, and she finds herself wondering one simple thing.
How was she going to get herself some of that?
-x-X-x-
It's been a few days since she watched Canary get gangbanged in that damn warehouse, and now that she's had time to think, Huntress has been ashamed of her reactions. She's also not at all sure how to approach Black Canary about what she's seen, or hell, even if she SHOULD approach the other heroine. Suffice to say, the young woman has been avoiding her fellow League member as tactfully as she possibly can, but she's afraid she's being too obvious about it. She's really not sure if she's just imagining some of the looks directed her way or not.
On top of that problem, Huntress finds herself trying to hunt down a rather notorious thug by the name of Alexander Grunn. The gangster is new to the criminal underworld from what she can tell, but he's a rising star. The way Huntress sees it, she figures it's better to nip such oncoming problems in the bud before they can become true irritants in her war on crime.
Unfortunately, she hasn't had much luck tracking down Alexander Grunn. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he somehow knows she's already after him, and is hiding away on the downlow. At the same time, Huntress' commlink is now officially malfunctioning, because she just received a call on it, but there wasn't anybody on the other line.
That would have to wait for another day though. She'd take the comm down to maintenance tomorrow, or whenever she found herself on the Watchtower next. Right now, Huntress was finally off shift… and while her first inclination was to spend her free time on the Grunn case, the vigilante also recognized that she probably needed a bit of downtime. Of course, for a woman like Huntress, downtime consisted of going home and sleeping a full eight hours for the first time in days.
However, just as she's reaching the teleporter, a familiar face that she's been trying to avoid for days suddenly sidles up alongside her.
"Hey, Huntress! Just the girl I wanted to see. What's say you and I go clubbing, yeah? Feels like ages since we did anything together!"
Canary sounds peppy, a fair bit more peppy than usual. Her tone is as bright and cheerful as her smile, as Huntress opens her mouth to make some excuse… only to realize belatedly that she doesn't WANT to make an excuse. In that moment, Huntress suddenly HAS to go clubbing. It's like her entire world flips on it's head, though she doesn't even notice it.
"Y-Yes… Yes! I'll, um… I'd love to go clubbing, Canary!"
"Great!"
Blinking, Huntress considers for a moment, even as the desire to go with Black Canary overwhelms most rational thought processes. But not all of them. A question still bubbles to the forefront of her mind.
"… Should we stop by my place to get changed first?"
Canary blinks at that, before giggling and shaking her head, even as she hooks an arm with Huntress and they head for the teleporter together.
"No, no… it'll be a lot more fun to be in uniform, don't you think?"
A smile spreads across Huntress' face as she bobs her head up and down in a nod. Huh, Canary is right, it WOULD be a lot more fun to be in uniform. All the earlier anxiety has been washed away, all the uncertainty and stress and worry are gone. Huntress can't even fathom why she'd been avoiding Canary all this time… they're the best of friends after all, and she just can't wait to go clubbing.
With the teleporter, it doesn't take them long to get to the club at all. Black Canary leads the way, and Huntress' eyes slide over the club's name as they walk up to the front entrance, bypassing the line entirely. 'The Glamour Slam', it's called… and beneath that there's a small sign that says, "costumed girls get in for free". As such, Huntress isn't really surprised when she and Canary get to just waltz right in, past jealous women and catcalling men.
She's not even sure they realize that they're looking at the real deal… but that's probably for the best, all things considered. Huntress follows Canary into the club, not towards the dance floor or the bar, but upstairs into the staff area, all the way to the club owner's office. The hallway leading up to said office is filled with framed pictures of pornstars with poorly photoshopped superheroines' masks and faces placed on them. It's laughable, but Huntress doesn't laugh. In fact, she doesn't even really pay any notice to it, as she and Canary step inside the club owner's office, coming face to face with the small-time supervillain, Sonar.
"Ah, there you girls are. Thank you for bringing Huntress with you tonight, Canary."
Bobbing her blonde head up and down, Black Canary just smiles winningly.
"Of course sir~ Always happy to help."
Sonar grins, before glancing to Huntress, swallowing thickly.
"And you, Huntress?"
Blinking, Huntress cocks her head to the side.
"Yes, sir. I'm here to go clubbing. Thanks for having me."
She doesn't notice her voice is a little monotone. But then, at this point, Huntress isn't noticing much of anything at all. Everything that's happening seems perfectly alright, regardless of the fact that 'clubbing' definitely meant something entirely different then what was going on right now. A part of her recognized Sonar's criminal behavior and the fact that he was wanted by the police… but it just didn't seem all that important right now.
"Right. Good. Excellent, even. Canary, you're out on the floor tonight. One of the other dancers will direct you to your pole. And later, if you attract enough clientele, maybe there will be a little something extra at the end of the night."
Even Huntress immediately understands that he's talking about another gangbang. Canary blushes prettily at the insinuation, but smiles happily all the same, excited for the idea, clearly. However, before she can leave, Sonar stops her.
"Hey, why don't you show me how your dirty talk's coming along, huh?"
Canary immediately straightens, and then she's walking over to Sonar with a sultry sway to her hips as she gives him a seductive smile. Her gloved hand runs down the front of his chest.
"Mm, I'd love it if you took my slutty little body for a ride, sir."
Sonar chuckles and brushes her off.
"Maybe some other time. Get going, whore."
Canary leaves without response, sashaying her way out of the office all the while. Huntress, meanwhile, stands there waiting patiently for her own orders. After all, that's how you went clubbing… right?
"Okay, so you… you've been requested. No pole dancing for you tonight. I want you to go to Room Three, just down the hall, and I want you to do your best to make the man inside happy, alright?"
A part of her relaxes with relief at finally having some orders. She nods excitedly as she responds in a clear, strong voice.
"Yes sir!"
Sonar just chuckles and waves her off. Leaving his office, Huntress heads down the hall. It's not hard to find the private rooms in the back of the club from there, nor is it difficult to locate the one with a massive three emblazoned into the door. Stepping inside, Huntress makes sure to close and lock the door behind her for privacy, even as she turns to the client and smiles, swaying her hips as she moves forward.
"Good evening, Mr. Grunn. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Because it is him, in the end. None other than Alexander Grunn himself sits on the couch on the far side of the room, nursing an alcoholic drink of some kind as he takes in the sight of her seductive smile and her bouncing hips.
"So you know who I am?"
Huntress giggles at that, even as she stops in the middle of the room, flaunting her body this way and that to keep his gaze on her spectacular form.
"Of course I do. I've been investigating you for a while, you know."
Grunn nods at that.
"Yes you have. But that's not why we're here, I suppose. You know why we're here… so get to it."
"Of course, Mr. Grunn."
The gangster presses a button, and the lighting in the room dims a bit as music begins to play. Swaying and bobbing to the melody, Huntress starts off with a very sensual striptease. She's been booked for the entire night after all, and she has to do her best to please the man before her. However, before she can pull off the first glove, Alexander stops her.
"Keep those on. Gloves and stockings can stay… the rest, take it off."
Letting go of the edge of her glove, Huntress merely bobs her head to show she heard as she instead moves to her uniform itself. In the end, bit by bit, her body is revealed to him as she strips out of her costume. The only piece of her costume that remains besides her gloves and stockings by the time she's done is her mask, because the mask is what makes her Huntress in the first place. It's what makes her valuable.
Her breasts fall free of her bra, and her panties are kicked off her legs one by one as she exposes her cunt to his gaze. When he spins his finger in the air pointedly, Huntress does a little twirl, showing off every bit of her naked body, even as she stands there in her stockings, even her boots discarded.
"Nice. Very nice. Get over here and show me what you can do with that mouth of yours."
His cock is already out by this point anyways, and now that she's been given permission, Huntress pretty much zeroes in on it, staring transfixed as she moves across the room and bends over at the waist. Her legs spread apart, but she doesn't kneel, nor does she crouch. She remains standing, even as she lowers her face and more importantly her mouth to the gangster's prick. Her gloved hand closes around Grunn's shaft, and she slides her tongue up and down the underside of his length a few times, causing him to hiss and groan his enjoyment.
Eventually though, she goes further still. Her lips close over his cockhead, and she slides her mouth up and down his length, bobbing back and forth across his member. She's very good with her mouth, very good with her lips and her tongue as well.
"S-Shit, who knew you were such a champion cocksucker?!"
Huntress didn't, but she wasn't in a position to tell him that. Her skills with her mouth were as much a surprise to her as they were to him… but it also felt right, stripping out of her costume and sucking on this criminal's prick. It felt better than right, it felt GOOD. Slurping away at Grunn's member, Huntress has to maintain her cool, even as she itches to stuff a couple of her gloved fingers into her cunt right then and there.
But no, as much as she's enjoying this, as much as she wants to enjoy it more, the client always comes first. Grunn groans, showing that he's well on his way to doing exactly that… but he's not quite there yet, as he suddenly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone.
"Fuck, I need some pics. Lookie here, girlie. Let's see those gorgeous eyes of yours as you slurp at my cock."
She does as she's told, happy to let him take pictures of her slutty, masked face as her cheeks suction in around his member, her full lips looking all the poutier as a result. She stares into the smartphone's camera as it flashes a couple times.
"Give me a peace sign… yeah, just like that. Holy fuck this is hot, I'm… I'm getting close!"
The peace sign is quickly photographed as well, captured forever by the phone's camera before Grunn sets the device down and grabs Huntress by her cowl. He's not trying to unmask her though, no, he's forcing her down his cock as he begins to cum. His seed sprays forth into her mouth, and Huntress swallows as best she can, drinking every last drop of his cum… or at least trying to. His load is big enough that a small portion escapes her mouth, but she's quite quick to scoop it back up with her fingers and tongue working on conjunction.
Straightening up with a wide smile on her face and her tits jutting out towards him, Huntress slowly, sensually turns around, before sliding her bare-naked ass back onto his hard cock, grinding against it as it ends up hot-dogging her butt just like that.
"Mm, what's next, you big, bad man?"
His hands come down on her buttocks, and he slides them over the shapely rump for a moment in contemplative silence before answering her.
"… Why don't you tell me what you've found out about me so far."
Huntress' smile doesn't even falter as she looks back over her shoulder at him, glancing pointedly down at his rod.
"Well, I've learned how thick and large this delicious, fat cock is."
Alexander Grunn chuckles but shakes his head.
"No, that's not what I meant. Tell me what dirt you got on me, slut. I need to know about the investigation."
Huntress' mouth opens… but she has no answer. He wants… what? Her eyes flicker back and forth, confused as she takes in the room around her. How could a filthy criminal like him ever expect her to betray the case she was working on? It was… what was… where WAS she? What was she DOING here? As Huntress freezes up, her mouth opening and closing in confusion, the supposedly locked door suddenly bursts open, and Sonar rushes in with his pants hastily zipped up as he thrusts a hand out towards her, a device in it hitting her with a burst of hypnostatic that has Huntress going completely slack.
"What the fuck man!? I was getting somewhere!"
"Get him out of here!"
As a group of guards haul the gangster away, Sonar curses under his breath, stepping up to Huntress side.
"You weren't ready for that yet, obviously. But then, that's why we're still in the testing stage, isn't it? Alright girlie, let's get this fixed…"
Leaning in close, Sonar begins to whisper in Huntress' ear, and all the tranced heroine can do is listen to his words as she stares with unfocused eyes at nothing.
-x-X-x-
The next morning, a hungover young woman wakes up in her own apartment, groaning as she rubs at her forehead. Even still, when she looks back at the night before, she can't help but smile as vague memories of having an amazing time with Canary flit through her head. It'd been a wonderful experience all around.
And as a matter of fact, it was exactly the break she needed as well. She's figured out how to bring down Alexander Grunn.
-x-X-x-
As she lounged out under the sun, Mari finds herself more annoyed than she should be. There's a frown marring her beautiful face, despite the gorgeous weather that's allowing her to relax like this in the first place. However, her irritation is interrupted by the sudden buzzing of her phone on the table beside her. Picking the thing up, Mari can't help but smile a little when she sees its her modeling agent calling. At least HE wasn't ignoring her.
Answering it, she brings the phone to her ear.
"Tell me you have something good."
Waiting for a moment, Mari's eyebrows lift from behind the sunglasses she's wearing as she hears the proposal for a job offer, a glamor shoot. A slow, wicked smile spreads across her face, though she pauses long enough that her agent asks if she's not interested.
"No! No, I'm interested. In fact, I'm VERY interested. I've always been a big fan. Give me the time and place, and I'll be there."
Her agent says something else and Mari laughs.
"Ya know what? I think I can make that work. Don't even worry about it. I'll handle it. Talk to you later."
As she hangs up, Mari McCabe, also known to the world as the super heroine Vixen, giggles just a bit as she sits up on the lounge chair and swings her legs off the side. It was a little silly, and a little unorthodox, but this new gig sounded like it was too much fun to pass up. They wanted her to do a glamor shoot as Mari McCabe… dressed as Vixen.
On top of that, while the studio knows what they want, they apparently can't afford to provide her with a fake costume of the heroine. Or they just aren't willing to. Instead, they've asked for her, or at least her team to provide one instead. Mari probably should be letting her agent get a good, convincing fake for her to allay suspicion, but she just can't help herself. The thought of showing up at the studio in her actual Vixen costume fills the dark-skinned heroine with a strange sense of satisfaction. It just feels right.
And she needs something right in her life. Especially with the Justice League ignoring her these past few days. While Vixen had plenty of stuff to do in her heroic identity on her own time, she'd kind of gotten used to the League communicator summoning her to duty. It allowed her to fill any empty time she had with doing what she did best… kicking ass and taking names. But recently, at least this past week, the communicator had remained silent.
This was just the sort of thing she needed to take her mind off of that. A bit of actual work, her modeling career having been suffering due to her superheroing, was exactly what the doctor ordered. Now she was going to go and put on her costume and make sure it was just right for tomorrow when she'd get to the studio and get to play-act as 'the real Vixen'.
Snickering, Mari heads inside. She could scarcely wait.
-x-X-x-
"You!"
"You!"
There's a pause, and then both women begin to laugh. Mari McCabe stares across the way at Beatriz Bonilla da Costa, a fellow model. But it's not the connection they have through modelling that has them both surprised. It's the fact that Beatriz is also a heroine. Specifically, the green-haired heroine named Fire. And right now, she's dressed the part too. Dressed as Fire, just as Mari is dressed as Vixen.
"… Guess they wanted you to play Fire, huh?"
Mari has an amused little grin on her face, even as Beatriz mirrors the grin and bobs her head up and down.
"Yep. And you're… pretending to be Vixen, I suppose?"
Snickering a little at the in-joke, Mari just nods back.
"Got it in one."
"Right this way ladies! Right this way!"
The two heroines, dressed as themselves, follow the harried looking assistant deeper into the studio they've both shown up at. The place is pretty legit, and with all of the bells and whistles both models have become accustomed to in their lives. Of course, the man behind the camera is a little less so, when they finally arrive at the shoot location, where a bed is set up and there's lights and cameras everywhere.
"Ladies. I'll be your photographer today. I hope you can both follow my orders to the letter."
As Sonar glances between them expectantly, the villain raising both eyebrows in question, Mari and Beatriz share a glance. No, wait… they're face to face with a supervillain. That means they're Vixen and Fire now. Except…
"Sure, 'course we will."
"Yes. You are the photographer after all. What you say goes."
Neither Vixen nor Fire are particularly disturbed or put out by Sonar's presence. He's just the man that's directing the glamor shoot. The fact that it's just the three of them and no one else isn't too odd either. Both models have had small-time shoots before, with just one other person, and both have had big-time shoots with entire crews. The harried assistant that led them onto set is already gone, and it's just them and Sonar now.
Sonar seems a bit relieved, even as he lets out a light sigh.
"Good. That's very good. You're both such exceptional women… you definitely pull off those costumes. Almost like they're made for you."
Vixen and Fire exchange an amused glance at that. If only he knew.
"Why don't you both get on the bed. Give me some poses, let's just start with a warm up alright? Nothing specific, I want to see what you girls come up with."
Shrugging in unison, the heroines do as they're told. Experienced as they are, they have no issue climbing onto the bed and striking poses. Of course, neither is extremely experienced at dealing with other models, so they get in each other's way a little at the beginning. Sonar quickly corrects that.
"Be mindful of one another ladies. Either stay apart or get up close and personal. Use one another to enhance yourselves, don't stumble over each other. Other than that… very sexy."
While Fire begins to scoot away from Vixen to do as Sonar said, Vixen goes the opposite route. Fire yelps as she ends up pinned beneath the smoky, dark-skinned heroine, and Vixen grins down at her comrade, even as she arches her back and then looks over her shoulder, towards Sonar and his camera.
"Absolutely perfect. Just gorgeous. Hey, why don't you give me some dirty talk, yeah? To each other, I mean. God, you're both such sluts, aren't you?"
"She is."
Vixen turns her gaze down to Fire and grins wickedly.
"My slutty little green-haired whore. Mm, wrapped around my finger, aren't you?"
But Fire isn't so weak. She scoffs, even with Vixen holding her down, pinning her to the bed.
"Well, if I'm a whore, what does that make you? An utter slut? You love cock, don't you? You love taking dicks in your tight little wholes, all day long. Like the feral bitch you are."
Vixen growls, but it's more arousal than anger as she slides her body along Fire's immensely turned on. Their degrading talk doesn't make much sense in the context of a photo shoot, but neither of them really notice. Sonar is recording the entire thing anyways, so maybe it'll go in the behind the scenes video that some glamor shoots do.
"God that's some great stuff. You two really are the best. Hey, how about you fuck each other now, yeah? Let's get some lesbian action going, for all of your fans. Imagine all those teenage boys jerking off to this, heh."
It should have been an immediate no from both of them. But then, if either Vixen or Fire were in their right minds at that point, things wouldn't have gone this far to begin with. They wouldn't have said the things they already said to each other. So it's no wonder that the two mind-whammied heroines fall upon one another with abject lust, Vixen taking the lead but both giving as good as they get as they begin to engage in 'some lesbian action', just like Sonar has told them.
Fire's power flares up, but Vixen barely feels the heat as the green-haired woman burns her own costume off of her entirely. She lifts an eyebrow however when the other heroine slips her fingers against Vixen's chest and then her crotch, burning rather strategic holes in her own costume. Vixen's costume isn't nearly as easily fixed or replaceable as Fire's no doubt is… but rather than truly get angry, the dark-skinned heroine takes it out on the gorgeous Brazilian trapped beneath her in other ways.
They kiss heatedly, even as their hands roam over each other's bodies. Fire's fingers squeeze and grip at Vixen's gorgeous, beautiful black tits, while Vixen's dark digits disappear inside of Fire's tight little cunt, pistoning back and forth as the green-haired woman moans into her counterpart's mouth, the two of them making out heatedly.
"Yes, just like that girls, just like that. Fuck that's hot. Come on, more, more!"
Every time Sonar compliments them, they both feels a sense of deep, thrilling satisfaction. Every time he gives them an order, they can't help but obey, trying their damnedest to please him… and right now, that meant pleasing one another. Of course, when they began to bring each other to climax right there in front of the camera, crying out as they squirted out onto one another's bodies… well, Sonar could no longer resist.
"Fuck this, I'm hopping in!"
Both women, panting heavily with need and sweaty from their exertions, turn to face the man as he sets the camera up and then practically skips over to the bed. His cock is out in moments, and he's naked a few seconds later, as he climbs on board. Vixen is the first to reach his member, but Fire isn't that far behind, the both of them entranced by his shaft as they lean down and begin to worship it with their mouths and tongues.
Sonar groans as he plants a hand atop each of their heads. Vixen's short hair is gripped tightly, while Fire's long green locks end up with fingers laced through them.
"God yes… just like that you fucking sluts. This is gonna be the start of a long, and profitable relationship. You two are going to be my tight little pornstar whores for the rest of your fucking lives."
Sonar's speaking under his breath, but more than loud enough for both Vixen and Fire to hear him. But then, that's fine, because he's made sure the two of them will go along with whatever the fuck he says. Right now, it's sex… but the future holds so much more in store for the delicious heroines he's put under his sway. Ah, but then it really was just that. The future. For now, Sonar was going to focus on the present and enjoy the fruits of his labor.
As Vixen begins to bob up and down on his cock, Sonar regulates Fire down to his balls. The two tag-team his length for a bit, but he knows he wants more from each of them. Shit, he wants to be ball's deep inside of their tight little cunts. But who to start with? Vixen might not have been as curvaceous as Fire, but she was definitely more skilled, more flexible, and more experienced than the Brazilian. On top of that, Fire was completely shaven, while Vixen had this cute little landing strip right above her clit that drew Sonar's attention.
Dragging both of them away from his shaft, Sonar makes his decision. He spins Vixen around with his grip on her hair, well aware that he'd never get away with this if it weren't for the grip he also had on her mind. Because of this, the powerful, deadly heroine doesn't put up any resistance as he forces her onto her hands and knees, and in one fell swoop slams his cock home into her tight cunt.
Grabbing onto her dark-skinned hips, Sonar groans as he begins to fuck Vixen with a frenzied sort of pace that has her howling and squealing her own enjoyment. He'd made sure of that of course. No matter his own skill at sex, both of the heroines would consider him god-like. His cock brought them pleasure, it was the only thing that would make either of them truly happy in life now. That was his power at full force, and brought to bear on Vixen and Fire, Sonar had made two delicious, exotic women into his fuck slaves in one easy move.
Fire watches on jealous as he plows Vixen silly, but she doesn't have to watch long. Sonar made sure to take some very particular pills before this began, knowing he was finally going to get his own today with these two, especially after the work he'd put into both of them. But even with the pills, it's not long before the brainwashing supervillain is painting Vixen's insides white with his cum. He gives the dark-skinned heroine's fit ass a nice smack as he pulls out of her… and then he turns to Fire, who welcomes him into her embrace with open arms.
In some ways, Fire is even more dangerous than Vixen. At least, when it came to intimacy. She'd shown it when she burnt off her own costume just a little while ago. She'd shown that she could incinerate him… if she wanted to. Hah! But she didn't want to, thanks to him! All she wanted to do was get his big fat cock buried in her tight little cunt.
"Oooh, yessss! Just like that~ Fuck me, fuck me you big bad man!"
The best part was, both Vixen and Fire knew who he was. They knew he was Sonar, the villain. They even knew what he was capable of. They just couldn't fathom that he'd used his technology on them, that he'd turned them both into what they were now. As he fucks Fire with the same throbbing, pulsating member that he plowed Vixen with, the dark-skinned heroine in question kneels at his side, wrapping her gorgeous, toned body around him as she eggs him on.
"Do it… fuck her. Fuck the big-tittied slut as hard as you can. Plow her senseless. Mark her with your seed, just like you did me."
In the end, it's Vixen's words that push Sonar over the edge. He cums deep inside of Fire's waxed, Brazilian cunt, and then he falls back on his ass, panting and trying to catch his breath. Vixen's eyes glitter as she looks between his messy cock and Fire's leaking pussy lips.
Before he can even give her an order, she's down on her hands and knees, slurping at his seed from Fire's cum-stuffed pussy. Sonar blinks and then chuckles darkly as he watches the two mind-whammied heroines go at it. In the end, there's really only one thing left to say, isn't there?
"Be sure to share, ladies."
-x-X-x-
There are a multitude of eyes on them as they fight. But then, given just who they are, there are a multitude of eyes on them no matter what they're doing. If such a thing bothered someone like Wonder Woman, she would have fled the World of Man a long, LONG time ago. Instead, the beautiful, but also powerful heroine draws strength from those eyes, knowing that there are just as many women watching her and Superman spar as there are men.
As such, when she manages to get the drop on her League co-founder, Wonder Woman doesn't pull her punches. Her fist goes into Superman's fist, doubling him over. But before he can be blown back across the room by the blow, she's grabbing him by his cap and spinning him around. Her arm slides around his neck and though the Man of Steel's hands immediately come up to grab it, she's already in position as she delivers an elbow to his back, driving the most powerful male on the planet to his knees.
Holding him there in a submission hold, Wonder Woman spares a moment to glance around the room, knowing that the spar is already over. Superman COULD break out of this… but that would require him to break the rules and make use of one of his myriad of powers that were currently banned for the purposes of this purely physical demonstration.
In the end, the Man of Steel would never do such a thing. He taps out instead, and Wonder Woman releases him immediately, straightening and offering Superman a hand up. He rubs at his throat, even as he gives her a smile and a nod, leaving the floor to her. As the victor of their spar, Wonder Woman takes the offer to say a few words, standing tall and proud in her full regalia, her hands curled into fists as they rest on her hips.
"No matter what, no matter your size, no matter your strength… so long as you fight for Justice and give your training your all, you will be able to topple ANY foe."
There are cheers around the room at that, as members of the League whoop and holler. Even if her words were meant more for the women then the men, Wonder Woman is intelligent enough to temper her language so that it's not quite so… obvious. But she makes eye contact with some of the heroines specifically nonetheless, making sure they know that her message is for THEM, first and foremost. Wonder Woman wants nothing more than for the women of the Justice League to be all they can be.
Still, with the end of the spar comes the end of her shift on the Watchtower. Grabbing a towel, she wipes the sweat from her body where she can, even as she heads towards the teleporters to get back down to Earth.
"Diana! Hey, Diana! That was spectacular!"
Smiling, Wonder Woman turns to regard Black Canary and Huntress… or more specifically, Dinah and Helena, given the two are off-shift now too. It's Dinah who initiated contact, but Helena is quick to back her up.
"Fuck yeah it was! Hey, why don't you come out with us? Dinah and I are going to this amazing club we found, you should join us! A girl's night, you know?"
Wonder Woman's smile widens just a bit at the offer, but in the end, she shakes her head.
"I appreciate the invitation, girls. I really do. But I have a prior engagement to attend to. I'm sure you understand."
There's speculative looks on both of the other heroines' faces at that, but Wonder Woman is already moving past them, heading for the teleporters. Within the minute, she's in a major city. Within three, she's flown hundreds of miles to the outskirts of a small town in the middle of nowhere. The Amazonian Princess doesn't stop flying until she's made it to a small house in the suburbs, complete with a white picket fence. No one is around at this time of day, everyone has their usual nine-to-five in this part of town.
As such, no one notices Wonder Woman landing in the backyard and smiling brightly as she does a quick twirl. It's not something she's done in quite some time, but given the clothes hanging off the nearby lines, drying in the wind… it's quite easy for her to use her super speed to swap out her costume, her regalia, for a new outfit.
Said outfit is… well, slutty is a good word for it. Fetish wear that was designed off of a housewife from the 1950s, if one wanted to get more specific about it. Her high heels brought her three inches off the ground, and her barely-there, white translucent stockings went all the way up to her inner thigh. She wore a frilly red and white apron with polka dots that ended just past said stockings in the front and didn't cover up a single thing in the back.
Beneath that apron were a pair of lacey, pure white panties. And nothing else. She didn't have a bra, her perfectly shaped, goddess-given breasts simply spilling out of the sides of her apron instead, as said apron rested around her neck. Letting out a sigh, Diana, not Wonder Woman, stepped forward and made her way into the house via the back door.
The finishing touches were put on after a quick stop in the bathroom to pretty herself up. Just the perfect amount of ruby red lipstick, eyeshadow, and blush to really make her already-gorgeous features stand out. Her hair needed no work, as perfect as ever even as it cascaded down the back of her head and across her neck.
She should probably have put it up when she began cooking dinner a few moments later in the kitchen, but Diana just couldn't bring herself to do so. Not when she knew how much her darling husband liked it down. Busying herself with cooking while wearing practically nothing besides high heels and an apron, Diana happily spends the next hour making dinner.
By the time she's plated the food she's made and set the table, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway can be heard, and a moment later the lock on the front door is turning, as is the handle. Diana races across the room, placing herself on her knees a moment before the door actually opens as she beams up at the man who steps inside.
"Welcome home, darling! Dinner is ready!"
Sonar stands before her, eyes wide but smile even wider as he takes in the view of her on her knees before him. Thanks to her super-hearing, Diana easily hears him muttering under his breath about how the sight of Wonder Woman on her knees like some slut never gets old, but she doesn't say a word about it. He's not wrong, after all. She knows how pretty she is, knows how beautiful she is. And it's all for him. All for her handsome hubby.
Diana understands that Sonar is a villain. She knows that he's an enemy of the League. But that doesn't matter right now. When they're here, the two of them together in their little house with its white picket fence, nothing matters except for their relationship. He is her husband, and she is his doting, loyal wife. Full stop.
So of course, when Sonar reaches out to the coat rack and pulls the bright red dog collar that sits there down off of it before reaching out to secure it around her neck, Diana not only lets him, she holds her hair out of the way for him while he does it. A moan escapes the heroine's ruby red lips as he tightens her collar. It's only right that a husband collars his submissive wife, after all. Any self-respecting housewife would be properly collared, at the end of the day. That was just common sense.
"Hello, Diana. I'm pleased to hear about dinner… but how are the rest of your chores going?"
Diana's eyes go wide and she immediately begins to panic and fret. Nearly bursting into tears, the beautiful princess wrings her hands together.
"I-I'm so sorry, darling. I haven't had t-time to vacuum or get laundry done yet. Please forgive me?"
Letting out a sigh, Sonar gives her a look that makes Diana feel lower than low. She's a failure of a housewife, the worst of the worst. If he divorces her, if he tosses her out on her ass, she'll have to turn tricks down at the corner. Her life will be over. She'll-
"… Diana, sweetheart. It's alright. I'm not mad, I'm simply disappointed. You're trying, my love. I can see that."
He's such a good husband. The heroine's lower lip wobbles as she stares up at him with teary eyes. Sonar smiles back down at her, reaching out and caressing her cheek in a way that has the strongest woman in the world nuzzling into his palm. Eventually though, he pulls back and adopts a rather serious face.
"However, you will need to be punished. Come along to the dining room and let's get your spanking over with."
As he walks, Diana crawls. Unless he tells her otherwise, it's only appropriate for her to crawl in his wake on her hands and knees. After all, she's failed him, she's… she's disappointed him. Eventually, they make it to the dining room, where all of the food she's painstakingly cooked over the last hour is laid out on the table. Sonar settles into his chair at the head of the table, and then scoots it out before beckoning her close.
In short order, Diana is pulled into the supervillain's lap, her ass exposed save for the white lacy panties barely covering it, her apron the only thing really between her and his bulging crotch. He runs a hand over her shapely derriere for a moment, before letting out another sigh.
"Count them out for me, sweetie."
Smack!
"A-Ah! One!"
Smack!
"T-Two!"
Smack!
"Threee!"
Under normal circumstances, Diana wouldn't even be able to feel Sonar's normal, human strength. A full powered slap across her face would be more likely to break his wrist then turn the Princess of Themyscira's head, for instance. But right now, Diana is feeling every bit of Sonar's light smacks across her plump, but also firm posterior. And as she counts out his strikes one after the other, she feels them in a different way as well.
Smack!
"Oooh, e-eight…"
Smack!
"Mmm, niIIIne~
Smack!
"T-Ten!"
Sonar pauses for a moment and runs his hand over Diana's ass. He slides his fingers beneath her lacy white panties and squeezes her rear harshly. A loud, wanton moan leaves Diana's throat and a moment later she's filled with shame as he sighs again.
"Diana… are you enjoying this? Be honest with me now, sweetheart."
Flushed with both shame and arousal, squirming from the stickiness between her legs, Diana hangs her head.
"Y-Yes, darling. I'm… I like it when you s-spank me."
She really did. It felt so good, being spanked. Of course, this was supposed to be her punishment, not a reward. And now she'd ruined it. She couldn't do anything right. Sonar doesn't sigh though, he simply pauses for a moment.
"Diana… present your wrists."
The blushing housewife does as she's told, her arms going behind her and her wrists locking together at the small of her back. After a moment, a familiar rope is tied around her wrists in an expert knot, her golden lasso used to restrain her quite easily.
"Now, on your knees sweetheart. I think you know what to do. You're such a silly slut… so you'll be making it up to me while I eat this wonderful homecooked meal. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir…"
She manages to keep the moan from her tone, even as they shift so that Sonar is pushed into the table and Diana is kneeling between his legs underneath said table. He's kind enough to undo his belt and pull down his zipper for her, but Diana has to use her teeth to do the rest. Once she's extracted his cock from the confines of his boxers however, she happily goes to town praising and worshipping it with her tongue and her lips and her mouth.
The ruby red lipstick she's put on smears all over her face and Sonar's dick as she sucks him off sloppily, eagerly, enthusiastically. At least this, Diana knows how to do. After all, in the end she's not REALLY Sonar's wife… she's his sex slave. He's just been kind enough to give her this chance to prove that she can be more than that.
Diana's official title, or so she believes, is housewife-in-training. Her and Sonar have been working on her skills outside the bedroom for some time now, trying to see if she has what it takes to be more than just a bed warmer for the greatest man alive. Unfortunately, so far Diana always seems to screw something up. She does her best… but in the end…
"Hm, a bit too much salt sweetie. You're going to need to work on that. Go ahead and punish yourself for me."
Diana swiftly opens her throat and begins to take Sonar's big fat cock down it, choking and gagging herself on his dick while always being very careful to avoid so much as grazing him with her teeth. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the food she'd made, in fact it was her best dinner yet. But Diana didn't get to know that. Diana didn't get to know anything, other than that she was a lovely fuck toy, and a work-in-progress housewife.
"Ah, that's the good stuff Diana… shit, you're such a slut. Fuck, I need to be inside of you, get up here."
In a moment, Sonar is pulling back and dragging her up from under the table by her hair and collar. Of course, Diana helps him there. He doesn't have the actual strength to manhandle her, and he knows it. Instead, she's eager to let him push her around, eager to have her darling 'husband' show her exactly what he wants from her.
A moment later, the stepfordized Amazonian Princess is bent face down into her own food, sputtering a bit as Sonar practically tears her panties off of her ass, exposing her sopping wet cunt. He slides his cock into her with a groan, and then grinds her face further into the plate before her for good measure.
"There you go, cunt-wife. Go on Diana, eat up. Maybe you'll be able to taste what I'm talking about with the 'too much salt' thing."
As he plows her silly, Diana almost thinks she can. She doesn't ever realize that she didn't actually use ANY salt for this particular meal. All she knows is she's a failure, and Sonar is going to fix her and make her into a true and proper 50s housewife, like she was always meant to be. As he fucks her into the dining room table and fills her womb with his seed, Diana's eyes roll back in her head and she moans wantonly as her husband-master pumps his cum load deep, DEEP inside of her.
Exactly where it belongs.
-x-X-x-
Zatanna can't help but frown, even as she follows Helena and Dinah down a flight of stairs into a dimly lit club. The place hosts all sorts of events, such as comedy shows and the like, but tonight… tonight it's hosting a hypnotist's show, apparently. And not one she's ever even heard of either! Needless to say, the gorgeous magician is a little but put out by the whole idea, and extremely skeptical to boot.
But… it's a gal's night with Huntress and Canary in their civilian identities, and she did say she'd come… so what else is she supposed to do?
"Zatanna, are you still pouting back there? Come on girl, let's get to our seats and order some drinks before the show gets underway!"
Zatanna sighs as Dinah calls her out. Helena is quick to giggle and back the blonde up, surprisingly enough. They really are letting loose tonight.
"If it helps, just look at it as a chance to riff on the guy. If he really does suck, we can probably play all sorts of jokes on him. Hell, maybe you can save the day with a performance of your own?"
Now… there's an idea. Zatanna actually perks up a little bit as she settles into her assigned seat with Helena and Dinah on either side of her, their round little table in the exact center of the entire club. The place is only half full at the moment, but people are streaming in even as they sit down, and a waiter comes by in moments to take the trio's drink order.
Zatanna's eyes are more focused on the stage though, as she considers Helena's words. Heh, if this hypnotist really DID fail to impress, she could definitely take over and give the club-goers a night they'd never forget. The idea made her feel a lot better about this whole thing. She was after all a consummate performer, and she quite enjoyed showing off. She wouldn't have gotten up on so many stages throughout her life if she didn't have a certain love for it.
Dinah and Helena both give her knowing glances as her mood does a full one-eighty and a certain wolfish grin spreads across her face, but Zatanna doesn't pay them any mind, instead sipping from her drink once it arrives and leaning forward in anticipation as the already dimly lit club gets even darker, the lights focusing instead on the stage.
Out from behind the curtain walks a man in a suit, a cape, a top hat, and a mask over his eyes. His chiseled chin and smile are on full display though, as he twirls, using his cape to add some flair to the action and pulling a glittering diamond pennant from 'seemingly' nowhere. Zatanna's practiced eye definitely notices him slipping it out of a pocket on the inside of the cloak, but everyone else oohs and awws, even as she scoffs quietly under her breath.
She's not going to be the first to heckle, no sir. That's just asking for bad press. Best to wait for him to REALLY fuck up. Then, someone else would do the heckling for her, and she'd step in right when it became most necessary.
"Welcome, one and all! I am your host for the evening, Mister Majestic! And tonight… I shall be hypnotizing those among you who prove weak of will and heart! Who here believes themselves strong enough to fight against my hypnotic control? Who here believes they can hold onto themselves?!"
There's a general noise from the crowd as everyone clamors to tell him that they'll easily avoid being hypnotized. Zatanna just sits back and crosses her arms over her chest, smirking. This was going to be too easy. The very first time he failed, she'd be there to capitalize on it. Holding up a hand, palm out, "Mister Majestic" snaps it closed, causing silence to fall over the club.
"You will all have a chance to find out if you're telling the truth very soon. We will begin now… and we will see just who falls under the sway of this most simple hypnosis! Look into the diamond, everyone! Gaze into the glittering, shining stone and see if you can fight its sway!"
Slowly, he begins to swing the diamond pennant back and forth as everyone in the club focuses on doing what he says. Zatanna's first thought is that his pendulum work is frankly amateur and could stand to be practiced a helluva a lot more. But then she hears it, the slow rising music in the background, the noises coming from the speakers all over the club.
She's a little impressed as she realizes that the pennant is merely a distraction. And then she's slipping under into a trance despite believing fully that there was no way in hell she could ever do so. But then, "Mister Majestic" was in fact Sonar in disguise, and Zatanna's mind had already been weakened over the course of weeks of preparation. She's been well-softened up for this night, as have Black Canary and Huntress.
Ultimately, by the time Sonar finishes swinging his pennant back and forth, the only three who are visibly under trance are the heroines in the very center of the room. The rest of the club is not-so-visibly brainwashed, a simple bit of mind-numbing tech to make them view everything they see tonight as perfectly and completely normal.
With that secured, and the trio of heroines all looking at him with glazed over eyes, Sonar, still in disguise, steps off the stage with a grin, making his way towards the table in the center of the room as he hums appreciatively.
"Well, well, well. It seems only three of you are truly weak of will and heart. Turn your attention here, everyone. These three will be my lovely assistants for the night! Won't you, girls?"
Dinah and Helena, even weaker to Sonar's tech at this point than Zatanna, eagerly nod, acting like their sultry, slutty selves once more as they move to either side of the friend they've unknowingly led into a trap, reaching out and grabbing at her gorgeous body, groping her and showing her off to Sonar. Dinah is the first to speak, her pouty lips forming into a small o as she bats her eyelashes in his direction.
"Ooh, yes Master. Happily so. Do you like the present we've brought you?"
Helena moans, and not to be outdone, she eagerly slips a hand down into Zatanna's lap, drawing a mewl of pleasure from the tranced magician as she fingers Zatanna's cunt.
"She's all ready for you now, Master. So wet, so slick."
Sonar just lifts a brow behind his mask as the rest of the club watches on in general interest and excitement, none of them seeing any problem with the events unfolding before their eyes. Even though some of them recognize Zatanna right away, given she actually has no secret identity. This is fine. This is all perfectly fine.
"And you, Zatanna? What do you think?"
At being directly addressed, Zatanna moans just as wantonly as her friends, even as she bobs her head along in agreement.
"Yesss… I'm your slutty little fuck toy, Master. All yours… to do whatever you please with."
Sonar grins wickedly and glances around the room.
"Well then! I suppose it's time to get on with the show! Come on up to the stage girls, and let's have some FUN!"
Within minutes, the disguised supervillain as Zatanna Zatara, both stage magician and actual magician, bent over at the waist, only her fishnets, her hat, and her corset remaining. His hands grip her hips tightly, and he slowly eases into her from behind, even as Zatanna moans out to the crowd of men and women watching her.
While this is happening, Helena and Dinah are nearby, standing pressed against one another, kissing and touching and stripping each other naked in anticipation of what's to come. Their lesbian action is quite hot, but it has nothing on the real show happening center stage. Zatanna's defilement continues on in front of all of these onlookers, and as he finally bottoms out in her cunt, Sonar pulls back only to start fucking her nice and hard, his hands gripping her shoulders to keep her in place.
"Tell them what I'm doing to you, Zatanna! Tell them how much you like it! What are you, really? You and I know the truth, now it's time for them to know it too!"
Zatanna moans out before beginning to obey his command, her words halting and pausing constantly as he fucks her senseless right there on stage.
"You're… you're fucking me, Master! You're plowing my slutty little cunt silly! I'm a whore, Master! I'm a slut-whore for your cock, addicted to your dick! Fuck me! Fuck me in front of all of these people, show them all how much of a silly, stupid little cunt I am forever doubting your power! Yes, yes, YESSSS!"
Zatanna's eyes roll back in her head right then and there, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she presents every single club-goers with her fucked silly face. The people in the club might be hypnotized to believe there's nothing wrong with this… but then, such a hypnosis means they also see nothing wrong with seeing to their own arousal and pleasure.
There are more than a few girlfriends and wives who have either bent over in their seats or disappeared beneath their tables from what Sonar can see, even as he continues to pump his cock in and out of Zatanna's tight, squeezing cunt. But there's just as many men who have no one to suck their dicks, from what he can see.
With that in mind, Sonar nuts inside of Zatanna with great satisfaction, hollering out his triumph as he fills her womb with his seed right on the spot in front of their audience. Then, he pushes her off his cock and lets her flail a bit as she falls from the stage to the floor before it.
"Get up slut! Get up and put that mouth of yours to work on making some of our lovely audience happy. Lord knows its better used that way than to try and perform magical spells, you silly little whore!"
Zatanna just moans in agreement as she gets up on her hands and knees, crawling to the nearest lonely man and working his cock out of his pants in full view of everyone, not even sneaking beneath the table like most of the female guests have done. She pops his cock into her mouth right as Sonar turns his attention to his other two brainwashed love slaves, pulling Dinah from Helena's embrace and leaving the latter to masturbate off to the side while he spins the former around, hooks an arm under her leg, and penetrates her standing up, right then and there.
Dinah sings like the Black Canary she secretly is, her cries of pleasure filling the small club right up until he silences her mouth with his own, fucking her with her back turned to the audience. This is really more about his enjoyment than anything else, after all. Sonar is king here tonight, and what he wants goes. Not that those left watching, mostly male at this point, don't enjoy the sight of Dinah's shapely ass bouncing up and down with the force of Sonar's thrusts as he fucks her standing there. Its still quite the enjoyable spectacle, and once Sonar cums inside of Dinah, he sends her off to take care of the club-goers as well, even as Helena strides towards him, clearly eager to get her own taste of his dick.
Sonar responds to her eagerness by forcing the woman who secretly went by Huntress face down, ass up on the stage. His foot presses into the side of her head as he grinds her face into the floor beneath them, while at the same time he crouches over her shapely behind, and guides his cock into her waiting, juicy cunt.
Helena howls her enjoyment as he jackhammers down into her with violent force, brutalizing her in full view of everyone. But the female heroine can take it, her body is fit as a fiddle and probably even more muscular than his. This was never a contest of physical strength though. No, Sonar's battlefield was the mind, and he's long since won the war. The women of the Justice League all but belong to him now, and he has no intention of letting any of them ever get away from him.
With that in mind, the villain happily nuts inside of Helena's cunt as well, filling her up with his seed just as he did her friends before her. The orgy in the audience continues for a little while longer, and Sonar gets his dick wet in a few female club-goers as well before the night is over. But eventually, things DO come to a close. The audience files out and as they leave entrancing music behind, all of them come out of their hidden trances, not realizing the ramifications of what they just witnessed, merely knowing that they've all had the best times of their lives.
In the end, it's just Sonar and his three wenches when things finally wind down. Just him, Zatanna, Dinah, and Helena. Dinah and Helena are completely naked and leaking cum, while Zatanna is still wearing her signature hat, corset, and fishnets. She looks like a slutty pornstar version of herself, that look of lewd delight on her cum-covered face and her pouty lips curved into a wide smile as she presents herself to him with her friends on either side of her.
Its clear the three heroines want more. Sonar just grins as he lifts a small remote and presses a button. All that happens is the music turning off, the noises that put them in the trance in the first place simply subsiding. For the general audience, this had the effect of making them forget most of what they'd done for the night.
But no such change comes to the trio of league heroines in front of Sonar. None of the women before him stop smiling, and as he reaches down and takes hold of his cock, giving it a wag, the heroines catch the hint immediately and all descend to their knees. As Sonar steps forward, placing his hardening cock in range of their mouths, he tucks his remote away and lets out a satisfied, pleased sigh.
Its permanent, now. No more trances, no more putting the girls before him under. They'll act how he tells them to act where applicable, but their new existences as Sonar's cocksleeves… are now set in stone. As Dinah, Helena, and Zatanna all work over his shaft in tandem, not fighting over his cock but instead working together to pleasure him, Sonar just laughs.
These three are just the first, after all. The first of many who will soon be Sonar's permanently, now and forever.
-x-X-x-
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