I was tied up and gagged in the back of a van on some big burly dude’s lap, while the driver eyed me up in the rearview mirror, watching as my bared tits were groped as they drove me to see their boss.

I could feel the guy’s rock hard dick underneath me; the tight latex of my skimpy costume and his combat pants the only thing between us.

It was a Heroine Appreciation Day miracle.  They’ll make claymation specials about it.

“Ivan is going to be happy to see you, Tribute,” the hunk holding me whispered in my ear.  Dolph Lundgren looking guy, all muscles and a jawline that could cut glass.

“Mmmm,” I moaned into dirty rag taped into my mouth.  There was so much subtext in his menacing tone.  I was going to be very happy to see him myself.

It’s not often I manage to catch the attention of a tricked out super villain before some “legit” super hero stops them first.  And from what I knew, this guy was nuts.  Some Russian terrorist with all sorts of super high tech junk grafted into his body.  Super strength, x-ray vision, crazy hearing, stuff like that.  I was mostly curious if he was augmented below the belt.

I shifted my hands, zip tied tightly behind my back, feeling my captor’s sculpted abs through his tight shirt.  Augmented or not, these Russian dudes were jacked.  One way or another, I had a feeling that I was going to feel very appreciated by the end of the day.

He shoved me forward on his lap a bit, pushing me off his cock.  He didn’t need to tell me what to do.  I reached down, easily finding him and stroking his shaft through his pants.

“Careful,” the driver said.  “She might tear your pecker right off.”  Ha!  Maybe once it was already inside me.

“Na.  This little whore knows her place.”

I nodded and moaned into my gag while I fumbled with his belt and unzipped his pants.  It wasn’t the first time I gave a guy a handjob with my hands tied behind my back.  It probably won’t be my last.

I hoped he would eventually rip my bottoms down and fuck me right there in the back of the van, but he didn’t, holding me in place, his calloused hands mauling my breasts, kneading them like dough while I worked his shaft.  He squeezed my tits tighter, his cracked fingernails digging into me, and he grunted and seized up, shooting his load onto my back.

I looked back over my shoulder at him, mumbling into my gag, trying to tell him with my eyes that I wouldn’t mind if he returned the favor.  He just shoved me off his lap and I fell onto my side on the dirty floor of the van.  His hot spunk dripped down to my side.

“You’re good with your hands, slut.”  I’m a lot better with my pussy.  “Maybe when Ivan’s done with you we send you back to Russia as sex slave.”  I practically purred behind my gag.  Sex slave is the next logical career move after fake super heroine.

The van came to a stop, and they got out, my buddy Dolph throwing me over his shoulder, (and liberally groping my ass) and carrying me into a parking garage.  They took me upstairs and threw me onto a chair in the corner of a room.  It might have been an office at one point, a lone desk sitting against the far wall and old papers scattered across the floor.

My captors conferred for a moment and then the driver made a call.  He spoke in what I assume was Russian for a bit, and then hung up.  He sounded surprised.

“Looks like you’re going to have company,” Cut Rate Dolph said.

“Hmmm?” I asked.

He didn’t answer me, instead drawing his gun as the door downstairs opened.  I watched as he switched off the safety, his finger poised by the trigger.  Whoever my company was made him nervous.

There were plenty of people I wouldn’t mind sharing my captivity with.  My mind wandered, I imagined them forcing some ripped hero to rape me at gunpoint, his morals making him reluctant at first, but slowly his desire to ravish my helpless body consuming him, and they wouldn’t even need the guns, he’d just be taking me, my muffled screams fueling his lust as he bent me over and…

I snapped back to reality as the door opened, and four guys came in with my fellow captive.  I noticed immediately it was a girl, and not a guy.  I could work with that.  The two of us bound in a 69 position, ring gags in our mouths, our tongues lapping away at…

Holy shit.

It was her.

The fucking Siren!

Girl can wear a ball gag.  Oh, to have a power like that, to make every bad guy immediately want to stuff something your mouth.  I was literally wet with jealousy, if that’s a thing.  The little line of drool dripping down her chin beneath the big red ball was so hawt.  

Her wrists were cuffed behind her, and the two biggest guys each were holding a hand on her arm.  She looked a little loopy, like she’d been drugged.  Man, everybody but me gets chloroformed.  Her eyes rolled lazily around the room, stopping on me and widening a bit.  I’m guessing she hadn’t been expecting me either.

“So this is the famous Siren,” Cut Rate Dolph sneered at her as he stood imposingly over her, towering above her.  She met his gaze, looking up at him in a weird, not really looking up to him kind of way.  Maybe her confidence was like mine, and she was just looking to get used and abused by some Russians.  I kind of doubted that though.

“Ivan’s going to be real happy to see you.  He’d be pleased with the minnow,” he gestured to me.  “But he’ll be real happy with the shark.”  Some offense taken.  I mean, yeah, I’m no Siren, but a shark compared to a minnow seems harsh.  Do they even have oceans in Russia?

Still, she didn’t waver or break her gaze.  She didn’t even try to talk which, I mean, what’s the point of a gag without all that sexy gag talk?

Alright, she did look great with a ball gag.  And she was drooling a little.  Personally, I like to look like I’m foaming at the mouth when I’ve got a big fat rubber ball wedged between my teeth, but I can admit that sometimes less is more.

Cut Rate Dolph slapped her across the face.  Even then she didn’t move, barely even blinked before she stared back.

“You’ve got spirit,” he said.  Damn right she did.  God, I would love more than anything to watch them break that spirit.

She finally made a noise into her gag, a muffled grunt.  It wasn’t the thugs though; I think I was the only one to see her grab her thumb in her other hand, grunting into her gag as she dislocated it.

Everything after that was a blur.

She slipped the cuff off her wrist, and then proceeded to beat the shit out of all six of them.  It was incredible, she didn’t even make a move to take her gag out.  She used the cuff still chained to her other wrist as a weapon, like a kinky knuckle duster.  It was probably overkill; girl can throw a punch.  

Even I screamed as one of them pulled a gun and shoved it in her face, but she just grabbed it, dropping the clip into her other hand as she pushed the gun upwards and forced him to fire into the ceiling.  She then took the gun right out of his hand and beat him in the face with it and threw the clip at another one, right in his throat.

It was some straight action movie shit.  You see them on TV, and it’s like, yeah, you know that some of them are super strong or have crazy powers and stuff, but her only power is her mouth, and she’s gagged, and she’s just going to town.  They got her to the ground, and I thought she was down for the count, pinned under four guys twice her size, and somehow, I was watching and I couldn’t even figure out how, she came out on top.  

She stood up and finally pulled the ballgag out of her mouth.  The drool that dripped from the red rubber ball as it hung around her neck was tinged pink with blood, and she was breathing hard.  My eyes fixated on her breasts as they rose and fell.

“Stay down,” she told them.  Those that were still conscious stopped trying to get up.  I knew in that instant that she wasn’t using her power out of necessity.  She was telling them for their sake.  If they got back up she would have beaten them into submission if she had to, and she’d have no trouble doing it.

She looked at me for the first time since she’d first seen me.  “Are you alright?”

I nodded slowly, speechless behind my gag.  

“Good.”  She turned her attention back to the men on the ground, searching and disarming them, throwing their guns and knives and phones into a growing pile.  I thought of her searching me, her soft but strong hands all over me, checking every nook and cranny.

“Stay there,” she told them, drawing me from my fantasies.  I’m not sure if the command applied to me or not, but I certainly wasn’t going anywhere, even if I wasn’t still tied up.  And if she wanted to leave me tied up, I was fine with that.  She approached me with a knife.  So leaving me tied up wasn’t in the cards.  Sigh.

“Who are you?” she asked after she pulled my tape gag down around my neck and plucked the dirty rag from between my lips.

“I, I go by Tribute.”  I was nervous.  That was new.  I boldly proclaimed my super heroine identity to the worst criminals I could find.

I looked for recognition in her eyes.  I looked for judgment too.  God I wanted her to like me.  I didn’t see either.

“Are you registered?”

“Registered?”  I had no idea what she was talking about.

“You dress up in a dumb costume and choose a code name and go out and try to fight crime, you get registered.”  Ah, there was the judgment.  “I don’t have time to do the whole song and dance.  Do you think you can get out of here on your own?”

Truthfully, I probably could have.  But my whole goal had been getting in, which evidently had been hers to, but likely for very different reasons.  I’m not sure what I was disappointed about more, missing some techy super villain having his way with me with a potentially enhanced super cock, or missing a chance to watch him hopefully have his way with Siren.

She snapped her fingers in my face.  I was spacing out again.  “Look, I get what you’re trying to do.”  I really don’t think she did.  “But, no offense, but you seem a little out of your depth.”  I like it deep.  She had no idea how deep I like it.

Smart ass and kinky internal monologue aside, I still didn’t know what to say.  I wasn’t sure if she’d even used her power on me, but the mere idea that she could, that with a mere whisper I could be putty in her hands, well, that notion was really distracting.  And a huge fucking turn on.

She was studying me, her deep green eyes staring into my own.  

What if she could read my mind?  

I think my heart stopped for a minute.  

No, that was impossible.  If she could, I’d be in a pile on the floor with the rest of them.  Unless…  Unless she was into it…

No, she wasn’t.  She was just trying to read me, but she wasn’t in my mind.  She could make me, if she wanted.  She could say the words and my mouth would come spilling open and I’d tell her how I was picturing her naked and I was wondering what she tasted like and I wanted her to tell me to act a like a dog and for her to fuck me with the biggest strap on ever.

She didn’t ask though.  She saw something in me, but she wouldn’t just leave me.  She told the guys to stay on the floor and wait for the cops and then she told me to follow her.  “I’m going to get you to the street.  You can wait for help or run at that point.”

I nodded.  I didn’t want either of those things, but I followed her through the building, my feet moving on their own.  They obeyed her now, and not me.  The things she could do to me with that power.

We were in the parking garage.  I could see cars and people passing by outside.  Thirty seconds and I’d be outside and it would be over.  I wished for anything right then to stop us.

Heavy metal emergency doors slammed shut over the entrance, locking us in the garage.

For a brief second, I thought I had magical powers of my own, and by sheer force of will I’d made my wish come true.  And then we heard the heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.  Maybe my wish had come true.

“Leaving so soon?”  So this was Ivan.  He was smaller than I expected.  He was still a big dude, but I was hoping for a just a massive brick with cartoon proportions, shoulders as wide as he was tall, forearms that would have made Popeye jealous.  You know.  Still, he was well over six feet tall and broad shouldered and barrel chested.  The tech embedded in him was subtler than I imagined too.  I was expecting like half his face to be metal with glowing red robot eyes and gadgets and metal just sticking out everywhere.  Instead he had two narrow plates running from above his eyebrow back around his head over his ears and what could have been just bracers on his forearms.  I wondered if Siren would tell him to take off his pants for me so we could see the goods.  She didn’t look like she’d go for it.

“Go stand by the doors and wait for me,” she told me, not taking her eyes off him.  Again my body obeyed, and I found myself walking over to the doors, looking over my shoulder as she stood in the center of the garage, waiting for him to come to her.

Ivan tapped his ears.  “Cochlear implants.  You little Jedi mind trick won’t work on me.”

“I didn’t need to use my power to take out your guys upstairs, you think I need it to kick your ass?”  Maybe it was just part of being under her sway, but damn her confidence was a turn on.  No one is more about ladies in costume losing than me, but god I wanted to see her kick some ass again.

Green lights in his armbands lit up as he swung at her, and under his dirty wife beater, more lights lit up.  So he was packing a little more tech at least.  There was still hope.

She was fast.  Really fast.  In the fight with the henchmen she’d been all savage fury, fists and feet and elbows flying everywhere, but now, she was a graceful dancer, stepping around him as he attacked.  He couldn’t land a hit on her.  But she wasn’t really hitting back either.  It baffled me; there were openings even I could see, and I only fight back once I know I can’t get free.  And when she did hit back, they were love taps compared to some of the blows I’d seen her trade with the guys upstairs.  What the hell was she doing?

Evidently, she was waiting to get her ass kicked.  The Russian caught one of her punches and held her fist in his hand.  I watched the expression on her face change, and then he hit her, right in the tits, hard enough to knock her up off the ground.  She slammed into the back of a van, and when she staggered forward, I saw that she’d hit the back doors hard enough to leave a big ass dent.

It was the beginning of the end.  That graceful ease that she’d darted around with, that float like a butterfly, sting like a bee Ali shit was done.  He was hitting her around, and she was hitting back now, like really laying into him, but he barely flinched.  I could only stand and watch.  A part of me realized this would be the time to run, while he was kicking her ass, get to the stairs and look for another way out, but I still had to stand by the door and wait for her.  It looked like I’d be waiting for her to be beaten by Ivan.  I thought about what he might do to us, together, but it wasn’t the same for some reason.  I’d really wanted her to win.  I was rooting for her to kick his ass, freeing me in the process.  The idea of being forced to submit to him with her just didn’t have the same appeal.  Don’t get me wrong, I’d probably still enjoy the hell out of it, but, just, yeah, not as much.

She was on the ground.  It didn’t look like she was getting back up anytime soon.  She got one arm under herself and pushed herself up.  She got half a foot before her hand slid across the ground and her face slapped against the cement again.

He grabbed her head, his fingers curling into her short red hair, and dragged her upwards.  She flopped about like a fish, holding onto his wrist with both hands as he hauled her up off the ground.

“I’m going to put you back in your place, bitch.”  He spat in her face, and he let go of her hair.  She stood there, not moving, while he pulled his fist back.  Why wasn’t she moving dammit?

He slammed his fist forward.  I found myself squinting my eyes closed, unable to watch.  I’m not queasy to that sort of shit, like, ever, at least I thought I wasn’t.  I mean, I’ve been hit before, and it hurts, but I’m a masochist and I get off on a guy laying a beating on me.  But with her, I couldn’t bring myself to watch.

I peeked through one eye, expecting to see her just laid out.  She wasn’t though.  She’d caught his fist, just as he’d done to her.  She’d slid backwards a good foot or so in her red boots across the cement, but she held his fist at arm’s length, staring up at him through her bangs.

“I told you.  I don’t need to my power to kick your ass,” she said.

Holy shit.

Her voice sent shivers up my spine.  They resonated back down to my core, setting a fire in my belly.  I’ve never been so attracted to anyone in my life.

He pulled his fist in, yanking her with him.  He struck out with his other hand, but she ducked under it, bending her back to the floor and throwing her legs up over his arm.  She was like some crazy kung fu gymnast, climbing him like a fucking jungle gym.  She swung herself up into the air and kicked him repeatedly in the face while she airborne.  She landed on her back and kipped up in one fluid motion and did a spinny flippy kick thing, both of her feet connecting with his face.  She landed in a crouch, steadying herself with one hand on the ground, in a position that seemed tailor made to showcase her firm ass under her tight armor.  A second later Ivan crashed to the floor with a strangely satisfying clunking sound.

Holy shit.

She stood up slowly.  Maybe it wasn’t that slow, and I just felt like I was watching her in slow motion.  She pulled one of her gloves off with her teeth and leaned over him, oh so slowly, my eyes glued to her ass, and she checked his pulse.  She seemed satisfied with the result, though I couldn’t tell if he was just unconscious or she’d killed him.  I couldn’t tell if he was breathing because I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

She turned to me, again in the heightened slow-mo I was seeing the world in.  Her face was bruised and cut and bloody, and she’d never looked sexier.  I found I wasn’t breathing, waiting in anticipation for her next command.

She just stared at me for awhile, her deep green eyes studying me.  There was a flash of knowing in her eyes, where I’m sure she saw right through me.

“Tell me honestly, do you believe you’re a heroine?”  Yeah, she definitely saw through me.

The words came from my mouth without me even thinking about it.  “No.”

She nodded.  “I want to show you something.”  She turned around and opened the hidden seem separating the top and bottom half of her green armor around her waist.

Oh my god, was she stripping for me?  Was this really happening?  I’d of course seen the topless pictures of her; the one where was dressed in the mermaid costume and ballgagged.  It was one of the images that made me want to be a heroine.  That sort of thing just doesn’t happen to normal people.  But to actually see her, in person, naked.  I was in heaven.

She didn’t strip though, not all the way.  She merely lifted her armored shirt up, the surprisingly thin layer of scales flipping up and the black undershirt rising with it.

Her back was covered in tattoos.  Words, written all up and down her back, in different sizes and fonts, all in black ink.  They were names, I realized.  Two columns, one on either side of her spine.

She dropped the top back down before I could really read them, not that I recognized any of them.

“Every single person that’s died because of me or something I’ve done.  It’s a long list, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about everyone on there.  Yes, my actions are the reason that they’re all dead, but I have to keep doing what I’m doing to honor their deaths, so that they haven’t died in vain.  What you’re doing, is going to eventually get you killed.  I’ve met you now, and I can tell you right that now I’m not putting you on my list; I’m running out of room.  If you want my advice, find another outlet for your crazy urges.  This shit’s for real.”

I didn’t know what to say.  How do you respond to something like that?

She must not have expected one, because she walked away from me, pulling out her phone.  She made a call and asked whoever was on the other end to call the KCPD in ten minutes about the rest of the goons.  “And I’m not going to make the parade,” she added.

She rolled her eyes as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and knelt by Ivan, rolling him onto his front.  “And I didn’t make it last year.  Am I not being subtle enough?”  She must have been talking about the Heroine Appreciation Day parade.

“Fine.  Tell Mirage to fill in for me.”  I knew that one.  I think I’d actually met once.  She’d ruined my ‘wedding.’

“I don’t care.  Tell her I said so.”  She was so forceful, even over the phone.  I imagined all the other super heroines, bent to her will.  Mmmmmm.

“She can take it up with me… After she does it.  I gotta go.”  She hung up the phone and put it back in her belt before picking up Ivan and throwing him over her shoulder.  She looked back at me, who, had of course just been standing there, my mouth hanging open like an idiot.  “They want to honor me as a heroine, for all the things I’ve done.  I don’t do it for the praise, and certainly not for whatever reason you’re out here.  I do it because it’s my job.”  She adjusted the bigger man on her shoulder.  “Think about what I said.”  Again, not waiting for a response, she walked off.

I stood there, not moving, until I heard the police sirens.  I should leave.  Get out before anyone sees me, hang up my costume.  She was right; there were other outlets where I could explore my fantasies, safer ones.  But I could stay.  I was a costumed heroine in a building full of knocked out terrorists.  Siren clearly didn’t want the credit.  I’d cement my image as a heroine, get a little heroine appreciation myself.  I’d get on more villains’ radars, that’s for sure.  Ivan had to work for someone, someone looking for revenge, and willing to take it out on the heroine believed to be responsible.

The sirens got closer.  I had a choice to make, and I had to make it fast or it would be made for me.  Listen to Siren, quit while I was ahead, and try to find some comfort in the boring, safe, protected world of role-play and fetish groups, or embrace the fun, wild, dangerous path I set out on when I volunteered as Tribute.