They Had a Bad Day...

 


Omitsu Saga offers Marc her gloved arm... allowing him to lead her to the limo... her conservative silk hobble dress forcing her to take tiny steps... the bulging knots of her muscular legs threatening to rip it in open as she slides into the car seat... her nose and long ponytail alike twitch as she looks at him... "So tell me about this new place..."

Marc smiles... "Well, it's kind of a risque environment... all about bondage... caning... restraints... hence the Restrained Appetites name... it's very much members only... I thought you might get a kick out of it..."

Omitsu Saga grins evilly... "Considering my youth I'm surprised you didn't ask me to be the hostess... I have no doubt I could make the escargot crawl across the floor to me..." still smirking as she catches the finger of a glove between her teeth and pulls it off...

Marc laughs... "There may be an opening for you yet... anyway, the patrons pay a flat membership fee for each month... quite a heavy price... but we've got plenty of takers... food is free... well, not quite..."

Omitsu Saga begins removing her other long glove... raising a brow at his words... "I'm sure there's a demographic for it... just like for Valerie DeVille's designs and toys..." She grins and smacks him with both gloves... "What do you mean by... not quite... naughty boy?"

Marc laughs... "Well, you still have to pay for your food... just not with money..." the limo pulling up outside the new place... the notoriety of it having spread like wildfire... queues forming around to block... but only members allowed... the best and brightest celebrities...

Omitsu Saga leaves her gloves in the car... showing off her powerful arms and shoulders... grinning as she and Marc are ushered right inside... "It is always nice to know the owner of such places... in Japan we used to threaten them with their lives if they didn't treat us well..." winks...

Marc smiles... "That wouldn't go down so well here... or maybe it would..." passing by tables filled with the current crop of supermodels and film stars... along with the occasional papparazzo... your eyes widening as you take in the sight of one starlet in a strappado... being given a merciless caning by the maitre d'...

Omitsu Saga grins as she hobbles forward... "Who would have ever thought that the cheerleader would be a subbie..." reaching up to her high neck... unfastening the clasp... removing her dress in one rip and swirl... revealing tight boots... thong... and corset... "Allow me..." taking the cane from the maitre d'... smirking as she eyes the round reddened little rump...

Marc raising an eyebrow... and ordering wine... as the girl pales... wiggling her bottom... the maitre d' nodding... "She has two strokes left to go before she's paid for her meal..." Someone at the next table orders another round of drinks... "Three strokes..."

Omitsu Saga grins and gives one cheek a sharp smack... the sound reverberating... Omitsu's own chest jiggling from the force... ponytail swishing as she twists and sends a second stroke to the other cheek... rubbing the cane gently against the girl's glistening pout... "I love the way you squeal and squirm... ahh... here come those drinks..." drawing back and bringing the cane around at the trembling girl's sex...

The girl crying out... a long, sharp squeal... cumming hard... before being released from the strappado and led back to her table... perhaps to be brought up again later if her party keep ordering drinks... a chilled bottle of wine waiting for you at your table... along with the wine waiter...

Omitsu Saga is visibly flushed as she takes her seat... the nipples of her exposed breasts taut... "I hope I wasn't too hard on her... you know Marc... I'd forgotten how much a part of me enjoyed assisting Master Shinji... bastard that he was... still..." she looks down... "You should probably order for us..."

Marc nods... "I already did... steak... slice very thin... almost like sashimi... done just the way you like it... along with the wine..." Pouring you a glass... "I hope you don't mind... I put it on your tab... so you'll have to work it off... one way or another..."

Omitsu Saga eyes him over the glass... "Don't tell me you couldn't get served for free in your own restaurant if you wanted to... are you planning to do the honors yourself?" smirking as she leans close... locks elbows with him... and sips her wine... eyes staring into his...

Marc grins... "I think that would be best... it's quite a pricey meal... worth six strokes... not to mention we need to get you properly restrained..."

Omitsu Saga blinks at him... gulps... and looks down... "Yes... by all means... Master Tanaka... do I need to remove my corset... boots... or thong?" standing as she asks... stepping on her chair and up on the tabletop... her bodybuilder body looking even more powerful from this angle...

Marc smiles... "The thong..." Snapping his fingers... the waiter bringing a singleglove... and a thick rubber hood... quickly and efficiently moving your arms behind your back and lacing you into it... before bending you over and running a rope up to a hook in the ceiling... as Marc removes the thong himself...

Omitsu Saga stands still... as the laces on the glove tighten she feels her breasts protrude even more out over the top of her corset... dangling... but tight... as she is bent over... knees slightly bent... ass jutting outward... eyeing the hood and shaking her head... before sighing... and bowing it... in a splash of ponytail...

Marc placing the hood tightly over your head... a rubber gag filling your mouth... darkness taking you... only a couple of nostrils giving you air as the hood is secured... sounds seemingly coming from far away... but you can hear cameras flashing and feel the cane teasing over the flesh of your dangling breasts...

Omitsu Saga steels herself for the blows to come... feeling the old pride of her youth... when she would endure anything to prove herself to her master... to prove herself the best assistant ever... her body posed and ready... her breathing regular... "Mmmmph..."

The cane landing once on each breast... leaving a red welt... each of the proud orbs shaking and jiggling from the blows as you hear the oohs and aaahs of the crowd... before Marc moves around behind you... the cane stroking over the firm flesh of your thrust-out rear...

Omitsu Saga bows her back proudly even as she bites down on the gag... almost as if intentionally putting her reddened breasts on full display... her ass twitching as she feels the cane rub... her mind slipping into old habits... desperate to make her master proud in front of his audience...

The cane striking again... once... twice... then once more across your thighs... leaving red marks visible... some clapping from the audience even as your bottom and breasts throb... squirming... as the tip of the cane taps against your folds...

Omitsu Saga swallows hard... her eyes watering inside the mask... even her perfect body weakened by the blows... slowly... but obediently... moving her legs apart in response to the tapping... the clefted pout of her sex tight and smooth... glistening...

The cane striking... hard... hitting your sex with an echoing swat... forcing your body to buck as the audience gasps... and applauds... before the hood is removed... and you are led off the table... the matire d' placing you in a kneeling position between Marc's legs as the food is brought... and he settles down to eat...

Omitsu Saga kneels there with head bowed... not looking up... until her head is lifted by the ponytail... and her lips introduced to her dinner... her cheeks hollowing out as she begins to suck... caressing with her tongue... teasing Marc's cock... her own juices dripping from between her jutting ass cheeks...

The cameras continuing to snap and flash as Marc enjoys the meal that you paid for... occasionally bringing a forkful down for you... the restaurant already a rousing success... at least in his opinion...

******

Chickfighter giggles as she hands over her pink duds... "Thanks Mister Wu... you're the best... be sure to run it through the bulletproof cycle as well..." politely trading bows with the small elderly man... until they bump heads... "Oopsie!" "Wu so sorry... make sure costume repel bullets... but not handsome warriors..." the old man winks...

Plenty of costumes on the racks behind him... every hero or heroine in the city using his specialized business to wash their duds clean... the fresh air outside very redolent of spring... even as you notice a black van pulling up opposite... a man in a stocking mask behind the wheel...

Chickfighter pauses in the doorway... noting the fellow in the van certainly doesn't look like a hero... but then maybe villains use Mister Wu to do their costumes too... she nods blondly to herself as she gives the proprietor a wave... and a twitch of her bottom in the shiny pink shorts... "See you tomorrow afternoon!"

The truck pulling up... the back doors opening... and four men with guns pouring out... making straight for Mister Wu's... charging in with guns at the ready... right past you...

Chickfighter blinks as the men push past... one pushing her aside with a hand to the chest... saying "out of the way, buddie..." her jaw tightens and her eyes narrow... tripping the last of the four gunmen... with the sweep of a slender leg... punching as he goes down... and reaching for his gun... "Who are you calling 'buddy,' buddy?"

The gunman slamming into the concrete before his friends know it... pointing their guns at Mister Wu and demanding every costume in the place... "Hand them over... without these playsuits, those do-gooders can't go out and fight crime... which leaves us free and clear..."

Chickfighter knocks out the straggler... snatching up his weapon in her hands... going right after the miscreants... stepping through the door... pointing the gun at them... "Robbing Mister Wu is as off-limits as calling me "buddy!" Drop the guns! Now!"

The men turning... two guns pointed at you... another pointed right at Mister Wu's head... "You can only shoot one of us... so unless you drop that gun, the old man dies... and so do you... put it down..."

Chickfighter nibbles at her lip... gulps... and finally drops the gun... suddenly realizing she didn't really think this through... "Ok ok... just don't hurt Mister Wu..." but then noting... "See Mister Wu... that's why I need the costume bulletproofed..." fidgeting as she realizes she just admitted to being a heroine...

The hoods blinking... one of them keeping the gun trained on Wu as the other two lower theirs... moving towards you... "Grab something to tie her up with... we've got to put her where she won't interfere..."

Chickfighter doesn't put up a fight... realizing that she can't risk Mister Wu's life... even as the rude men strip her of shorts and shirt... then her undergarments as well... "Hey! What the hrrmph!" gagged with her own panties... held in place by her sports bra... the laces of her shoes quickly used to bind her ankles and wrists behind...

The crooks grinning... hefting you up into an over the shoulder carry... rudely gripping your ass... and hefting you towards one of the huge washer-dryers... before dumping you into it... "Time you came clean, sweetheart..."

Chickfighter eeps into her panties as she is plopped into the front-loading machine... noting Mister Wu leering at her nakedness as much as the thugs... the door shut... shaking her head as she peers out the glass window... eyes wide as the thug reaches to start the machine... squealing as water begins to pour into the chamber...

The thug turning the machine onto full power... as the water begins to heat up... and the drum starts to spin... sending you tumbling about inside it... the thugs chuckling as they watch through the glass porthole...

Chickfighter gasps as the drum begins to turn... sending her naked bound body tumbling over and over... panicking as the rising water begins to steam... throwing herself against the glass... one pert little boob flattening out against it... twisting as she turns... and her lips mouth help...

The rolling, spinning drum filling with soap... the bubbles rising even as the water becomes scalding... and the drum spins faster and faster... Mister Wu forced to help load the truck... before it drives away...

Chickfighter is forced to hold her breath as the drum fills completely... feeling like she is being cooked alive... about out of air by the time Mister Wu opens the door and she spills out on the floor... "They get away with everything..." he says as he unties her... and she rushes out the door after the truck...

The truck already accelerating into the distance... with your costume in it... along with dozens of others... and your regular clothes... your flesh cooked pink by the steaming water... almost boiled like a lobster... as people point and stare...

Chickfighter feels the stares of the bystanders burning on her exposed flesh... blushing an even hotter pink than she already was... trying to cover herself with her hands as she slinks back into the Chinese Superhero Laundry... proving the villain's point as she hides herself... and the city faces the naked truth about it's superfolks...

******

Blue Blazes catches sight of something moving behind the billboard... something big... and metallic... unfolding from the roof... and jetting towards you... a robotic figure... reaching out a pair of huge paws for you as it heads in your direction like a guided missile...

Blue Blazes arches her back to change course and kicks her legs... twisting away from the reaching metal hand... looking back over her shoulder... as a gloved hand brushes the last piece of billboard from her face... trying to get a better idea of what this thing is...

The thing behind you shaped like a mechanical gorilla... or at least proportioned like one... more than ten feet tall... the giant hands reaching out to grab hold of you... crackling with energy... red eyes fixed on you... some sort of hunter killer machine...

Blue Blazes zooms away a couple of hundred yards and jackknifes in midair... flying straight back at the seeming mechanical version of Rouge Morgue... wondering to herself if this might be Prism's work... even as she puts up both gloved hands... aiming to hit the robot in the chest with an open palm strike...

The robot's chest buckling slightly at the force of the blow... even as it roars... or plays back a recorded roar... and aims to bring the two huge metal paws together... and smash you between them... the eyes glowing red with simulated rage...

Blue Blazes has her belle rung as the two metal hands come together... her suit already shuddering from the impact with the apparent tru-steel surface of the robot... she punches up at the square jaw with one fist... and tries to slip free...

The two huge hands putting the pressure on... squeezing tight... with crushing force... even as you attempt to squirm free... the grip slackening slightly as your fist rings the massive robot head like a bell...

Blue Blazes pulls free as the grip slackens... bringing the knee of a thigh boot up under that same metal chin... before kicking her boots to fly away... zipping over the edge of the rooftop... wrenching up a light pole from along the street... swinging it like a bo staff as she flies back at the robot beast...

The robot ape's neck almost buckling under the blow... the machine turning... scanning for you... not seeing you until it's too late... the light pole snapping like a twig on impact with the tru-steel frame... sending the behemoth flying down the street... to smash into a nearby building...

Blue Blazes watches the old empty Mercantile Exchange implode on top of the metal creature... sending a cloud of debris dust rushing along the street like a tidal wave... bringing up her gloved hands as she treads air... a ball of blue plasma forming within the spread of her fingers... even as the wave rushes over her... and into the block beyond...

The robot damaged... but still functioning... as it slowly clambers out of the wreckage... picking up a huge chunk of masonry... and hurling it towards you... one red eye flickering... the other out altogether... perhaps damaged internally by the attack...

Blue Blazes gasps as her foe rises out of the wreckage of the collapsed building... but launches her ball of energy at the section of wall thrown at her... disintegrating it before it strikes her... then kicks her thigh boots and streaks forward once again... an arm cocked to throw a fist at the remaining eye...

The robot crackling and sparking... aiming to get one of the huge hands palm up in your path... like a huge crash barrier... hoping to catch you right out of the air...

Blue Blazes gets there before the hand can block her path... but only just so... and as a result is doubled over as the metal fingers catch her in the midsection... nearly cutting her in half... grunting as her punch misses... and she goes flying into the construction site next door... her flight brought to a halt as she becomes embedded in the crook of two metal girders of the structure...

The robot pulling itself slowly out of the wreckage as you try to squirm free... lumbering towards you... picking up a huge cement mixer filled with liquid concrete... aiming to tip it over you...

Blue Blazes strains to bend the steel girders... the effort apparent in her bulging shoulders and heaving chest... flailing in panic as she sees the robot lift the cement truck... her eyes wide as the grey contents pour out... splashing and cascading over her body like mud... albeit tons of quick drying mud... turning her flailing form slowly into a rough-hewn statue of herself...

The robot waiting until your struggles cease... then grabbing the bards... bending them... freeing you statuesque form... and carrying it away... back towards the Bale building from whence it appeared...

Blue Blazes finds herself trapped inside the concrete prison... her suit bringing her air through its dimensional displacement technology... leaving her struggling with how to free herself... so that she will not become a monument to her own failure... or worse... a trophy on Victoria Bale's shelf...

They had a bad day, they got taken down, but in the end we know they’ll turn it around.

(May 2009)