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April O'Neil - Evidence Gathering	By : Nickamano Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 448 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: April O'Neil, the Foot Clan and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and any related materials are not owned by me. This was created for entertainment purposes only, and I am not profiting financially from the creation of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
The Master, their father, teacher and their guru had baptised each of the four brothers with terms of individuality. ‘Names’ he called them. He also went by a name - a gift from his former human master - but it meant nothing to the brothers. To them he was - Master, Father, Teacher.
Worse still, their own gifted names were instantly too long and complicated for their attempts at speech. The brothers could read them and write them perfectly well. And they knew the verbal syntax well enough to respond to, but they all found them impossible to vocalise. They tried - "Raff", "Le-oh", were partially successful. But between the four of them, they agreed to simpler terms. Colour coded tags. Favourite colours.
Blue and Red were easy enough. Purple and Orange were harder, the best pronunciations they could formulate being - Pu-pul, O-rin. But it was enough.

Red, he had tried ‘Raph’ for longer than the others but he was always ‘Red’ to them. So Red it was. He had been watching April O’Neil like he so often did. The Master disregarded it as ‘hormonal influence’ but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He lost sleep, had little appetite and his frustration too often came out in training sessions and stealth practice vigilante actions.
He had been in prime position to see the small trucks drive into the television studio’s parking lot. Foot clan ninja emerged from one van, and Kunoichi from the other. Their technique was adequate. Especially as they merged into the dark of the shadows and used them to scale the front of the building, utterly unseen - at least to other humans. Of course, Red and his brother’s eyesight was far superior to that of Humans and even in the dark the Foot clan glowed like beacons.
However, he also spotted something that might just make more sense of the entire situation. The Japanese man The Master had warned them of, the man who had murdered the Master’s human owner and that human’s female mate. The individual had emerged from the Studio entrance just as the Foot clan slipped into the shadows. Red recognised him as the man April O’Neil had been walking around town with, sharing meals with recently. He hadn’t picked up his name but, even so, after making his reports that first night, The Master had been suspicious enough to leave the den and risk a glance for himself via a storm drain. He had confirmed it to be the known head of the Foot ninja clan, his owner’s killer.
It had proved a stroke of luck as it had given Red an official mandate to observe this Japanese human. Though The Master had made it plain that he was to observe only, and not to underestimate just how dangerous this individual was.
Having climbed into the rear of one of the trucks, a human of the same body shape, and scent had emerged, wearing some kind of modern construction Samurai armour. And he re-entered the studio. Red had noted the daishō in his sash belt and the razor sharpened barbs fixed to the back of his kote. It was the sight of this Samurai, half concealed by a large haori coat returning to the Channel 6 studio that had sent Red sprinting back to the nearest sewer entrance.

The time-consuming part was gathering his brethren. Pu-pul had constructed makeshift alarms, bells, tin cans, cutlery that were attached by wires and wool and cotton down by many of the sewer entrances in range of their main den. Pulling a cord to get the noise jangling and their mutant hearing invariably caught it.
Still, it took them ten minutes to gather and receive Red’s briefing. O-rin also had a crush on the curvaceous red-haired local TV personality, so he was all for planning a rescue. The other two weren’t as easily motivated, but when Red put across the stealth training angle - taking on trained Foot clan operatives all while remaining unseen - the other two agreed to join the operation.
They had split into two teams. Blu and Pu-pul assessed the kunoichi, who appeared to be removing items and equipment from inside the studio and putting them into their trucks. Pu-pul knew a lot of the pieces of equipment, being fascinated by what the humans called ‘technology’. Their reasons, for both creating technology and the Foot clan kunoichi stealing these particular items, eluded him.

The other two brothers climbed the exterior of the building until their senses revealed a thinner part of the fascia that would allow them to slip into the narrow spaces between the second and third floors. Their exoskeletal-shells allowed then to reduce their physical forms somewhat, flattening themselves by a percentage. Red smashed a hole in the exterior concrete of the building behind its glass panel and then moved into the crawl space, O-rin followed right behind him. They made their way into the building’s interior, following their noises and audible clues as they gauged the whereabouts of the employees.
It wasn’t long before they discovered them, in a ‘rest chamber’ as they saw it. It was light and spacious and relatively colourful and there was seating available and small tables. And over a dozen of them were in there, employees. However, they were already in the company of male Foot clan operatives.

Other than April being involved, it was actually pretty amazing viewing through a couple of cracks in an old ceiling panel. A hot young Asian one, the weather girl and the nighttime presenter female the brothers recognised. There were also a couple of other backstage females they didn’t know. Notable was the big muscle-bound one with huge tits wearing a law-enforcement uniform. They were all stripped following varying degrees of violence and intimidation. The security ‘she-hulk’ put in some effort to protect her holes. But all it got her was a beating and then a terrific double anal. The others fell in line pretty quickly, opening their mouths and spreading their legs and their ass cheeks for the fortunate Foot clan guys.

The two brothers felt their libidos rise along with their erections but neither were free from embarrassment and uncomfortably made adjustments in their meagre coverings. Red certainly was in two minds over the top-down view of April being stripped. On the one hand seeing that body without clothes was always a treat and would give him fresh jerk-off ammo for his wank bank. But at the same time, his feelings for her went deeper. He felt something akin to affection and couldn’t deny the strong desire to protect her that had tossed him into a number of recent scrapes. And not only the ones she was aware of. And if that protection earned him some much-desired sexual favours, or even the ability to make sexual demands by way of repayment, who was he to deny his own adolescent needs?
The low growl that came from the back of his throat - as he observed her being turned to the wall and bent over, then being molested by two foot-soldiers while the armoured Samurai took up position between her perfect buttocks - felt entirely natural and justified. While O-rin whispering to him to “hush” was nothing less than infuriating. Barely biting down his own frustration, Red silently waved him off.

The brothers remained dormant and silent, a strange lust driven over write to the desire to save April, keeping them watching and enjoying the free-to-view orgy. Though Red had also been spending some of his attention in planning their inception and assault of the chamber. However, putting a stop to the orgy was proving difficult. There was little motivation to move, now they had their vantage point.
However, Red and O-rin were both more than a little enamoured with April O'Neil, and they had been for months. She was the most attractive and alluring human female they had encountered live. And more than just a simple object of lust, both teens might admit to have developed deeper feelings for her, a desire to protect alongside the powerful lust.
So, neither brother could just lay there watching in silence forever. At some point this lusty fun was going to turn violent, and that would put April at risk. And perhaps if she was grateful enough, she might see to it that they would be compensated? And how else could a female compensate a male than by allowing use of her body?

Unfortunately, moving across the space between the floor and ceiling, without revealing themselves, took a lot of time and effort and they were painfully aware that they were not able to stop that fully armoured Samurai taking what he wanted. But if they could stop him killing her once he was done that would have to be enough.
Moving along the ceiling, the two brothers separated. O-rin glanced around the shallow ceiling space they occupied. Ninety percent of it was dust and cobwebs, but ten percent was wiring and metal boxes that regulated electricity flow. He had been taking lessons from Pu-pul and following wires to boxes to more wires to the ceiling-secured light fittings, He saw a helpful opportunity and took it.
The lights went out. Now they had the advantage. The humans below were be in pitch blackness and already starting to panic, at least the TV staff would. And though they might remain calm, even with ninja training, the Foot clan guys wouldn’t have much of a chance against the brothers, they could see in the dark perfectly well.
Soundlessly flipping aside ceiling panels the mutant duo dropped down into the suddenly pitch-black room. Hitting the floor with a slap of bare feet on smooth laminate surface - it was impossible not to make any noise, but by the time the noise was reacted to, they were already on the move, silent again, repositioning themselves away from where they had landed.

O-rin grabbed a guy who was still happily ramming away up the ass of the cute weather girl. One arm wrapped across his shoulders while the other hooked under his chin and with a tremendous wrenching motion, tore his head clean from his neck. Blood sprayed in all directions while O-rin spun away from the gushing hot shower.
Red meanwhile, drew a handmade swastika-shaped shuriken from his sash belt. Edge-to-edge the weapon was around a foot across and razor sharp. Rather than throwing it he used it like a dagger, whipping past one fucking-couple without interfering, he gutted the ninja who was forcing the hot night-time presenter to rape herself, seated in what humans called a cowgirl position. Spinning past, Red slashed the hand-honed blade across his laid-out belly diagonally, slicing him open from left hip to right nipple. Blood bubbled upward as intestines bellied up out of the deep slit to snake and writhe over his flesh and his slashed-open clothing, coiling in a slithering wet lump to sit on his belly and drooped down the side of the couch.

Red made a bee-line for April, preparing himself for, no doubt, the challenge of taking on the Samurai in one-on-one combat.
However, the Samurai was ahead of him. No longer at April’s side he, perhaps somehow aware of the appearance of Red and his brother he was already heading for the elevator.
Red felt a flurry of emotion, mainly pride that he had put himself between April and the most dangerous of the ninja clan males. However, he had to admit he did feel trepidation at taking on the obviously well-trained Samurai. He wouldn’t have been made Chunin of the Foot clan without having proved himself masterful in martial technique and tactics and leadership.
Still, he was only human and Red had proved himself their superior time and time again. He was assured he would win, he was protecting the female he desired after all. Wasn’t that what the Humans called chivalry? Blu had read to him stories about the old warriors of medieval Europe, their Knights and Kings. Of their code of honour, and of Round Tables where everyone had an equal say, and of their duty to protect the weak and their females. The latter were invariably imprisoned in tall stone towers and were prepared to marry those brave ones who could protect and free them from their bondage.
He came at the Samurai, crossing the floor to intercept what appeared to be the leader’s attempt to escape. However, he found only ninja in his way.

April sagged to the floor, finding herself alone and suddenly unmolested by men from historical Japan. Though terrified at being utterly enveloped by blackness which, perhaps it did feel a little less threatening than gang rape and probable murder to follow. She put her back to the wall, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them. While grunts, groans and now screaming continued to fill that blackness laid out before her. Something was happening but she couldn’t understand what it was. Why had she been left alone? Not that she was complaining about that.
The rest of the room was still a mixture of confusion and sexual noises. April tried to understand what she was hearing but her brain couldn’t discern the meaning behind the multiple overlapping sounds. It was like a wave, on one side of the room there were gasps and sounds of confusion yet, as it passed toward the centre of the room, it changed to moans and whimpers and so much rapid rhythmic flesh-slapping. But all too soon the former was eclipsing the latter, the mass rapes were over and the confusion had turned to a wholly new kind of terror.
O-rin had snatched a knife and a weighted chain from an unsuspecting ninja, one of the two performing an impressive and obviously agonising double anal on the big-titted law enforcement female. He allowed a momentarily entertaining fantasy about using the strong and muscular woman in training sessions, something like an MMA octagon. Or Thunderdome. Two enter (neither of them men), if she wins, she wins her freedom. If he wins, he pins her down and fucks her however he likes until he’s satisfied. If nothing else, it would make both of them fight hard. Maybe he should make the suggestion to The Master.
He tugged the weighted chain free of the ninja’s belt while he drew the tanto style knife from its sheath and sawed his head from his shoulders with three rough powerful slashes. He enjoyed the gushing blood as it erupted all over the woman’s naked sweaty back. Staying behind her, he grabbed the female’s hand and thrust the lacquered hilt into her hand so she could fuck up the guy beneath her, even though she was essentially still sandwiched between two bodies. By the time he slipped backward and vanished toward the other side of the orgy room, she had buried that tanto blade in the ninja’s throat and chest five or six times.

April’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough so that the faint red glow of the lights from the elevator floor’s display, as well as the green up and down buttons were glaringly visible. The lights had a surprising reach into the green room - a candle illuminating a cathedral. Still, there was nothing she could make out. Fast movements, black humanoid figures, accompanying sprayed splashes of liquid. The naked women, pale shapes, were cowering on the floor, not knowing what was happening but instinctively keeping low, taking shelter from all the unknowable violence. The hogtied men might have even been even safer up against one wall. More or less out of the way.
Something in April told her that her Trench-coat Vigilante and his mutant brothers were here to save her yet again.

She found herself suddenly thinking about Superman and Lois Lane. How Lois was always so secure in the belief that Superman will always be there to get her out of trouble, that she grows more and more reckless in her job, not thinking twice about putting herself in harm’s way with that certain knowledge that her blue tight-ed knight in shining armour would be there to save her.
April had never been a reader of comic books but she had watched Lois and Clark re-runs, and it had occurred to her more than once, that all it would take would be one large-scale event – a tsunami or earthquake that Superman had to deal with, and he couldn't be there for Lois. She would die expecting him to arrive and save her until the very last second. She thought that, in Lois' position, she would never have put herself in that much of a risk, or rely on someone else that completely where she would become reckless with her own safety. Well, after this rescue at least.

Red and O-rin were doing well, three ninja were down; O-rin using the weighted chain like a pair of nunchaku to crush another Foot soldier’s skull, driving the smashed piece of bone right into his brain matter, leaving him either dead or a vegetable. However, Red had found it impossible to catch up to the Samurai. And the loss of that real challenge had Red instantly losing his temper, so he started to take out his rage on the rest of the enemy.
The Foot clan guys actually worked pretty well in the dark, almost as well as the two brothers. But there wasn’t really much competition compared to the skills and natural night-vision of the mutants. Red’s dark rage quickly took him over, and he was both economic and vicious in his violent offensive against the remaining Foot clan operatives.

He stormed across the floor, skipping over a downed ninja and intercepted another at the corridor’s doorway. The Foot clan guy swung a sword but Red spun on his heel and caught the blade on the edge of his shell, then whipped back instantly and used a forearm to break the blade. Before the ninja could react Red had grabbed him about the throat and proceeded to slam his skull into the doorframe, five-times in quick succession. Blood was oozing through the face mask after the second strike, with the fourth Red felt his skull crack and the fifth literally broke his head open.
As he released the body, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and spun to intercept another ninja coming for him, far too late to defend his clansman. However, a freshly broken body whipped across the room and slammed into the oncoming operative, stunning him at the very least. But that wasn’t good enough for Red. He snatched up the broken blade tip of the ninja sword and used it as a throwing dart, burying it six inches into the stunned human’s throat. He jerked and twitched a couple of times but didn’t regain consciousness, blood started to bubble up from his open mouth. Red turned to take on another Foot clan ninja, risking a glance at his brother as he advanced on the human.

O-rin’s current opponent was equipped with a sickle and he was swinging it rapidly in a number of chopping stabs. The brother’s counter technique was impressively, blindingly quick; he ignored the kama’s blade and instead went for the weapon’s eighteen-inch handle, blocking the first few hits with extended empty-hand techniques. And then, when the position was optimal, he hooked his hand over the ninja’s wrist and twisted hard, the move torqued the ninja’s hand in such a way as to force his grasp to open up. After that it was nothing for O-rin to apply a touch more force, making the weapon fall out of the Foot clan guy’s hand completely. Red’s brother caught the weapon and chopped it down through the ninja’s trapezius wedge, the curved sickle blade was easily long enough to pierce the man’s heart from that angle and, watching, Red knew how accurate O-rin was. The ninja crumpled where he stood, dead before his back met the floor.
Red gave an animalistic roar of celebration, catching his brother’s jubilant eye for a moment before spinning to intercept the next Foot clan ninja.

April almost felt as though this current situation was worse than when she had been caught down in the sewers. She might not be alone and cuffed to a steel barrier here, but she could feel the vile sensation of that Samurai’s and ninja’s jizz seeping out of her, while violence ranged all around her and all of her colleagues were in just as much danger as she. Searching through the gloomy near-blackness, she quickly discovered the arm of a corpse not far from her. Peeling off a cloth forearm covering, she used it to wipe away the slime trickling from between her legs and spotting her numbed buttocks.
A swish of fast-moving air passed her by, so close that it flicked her bangs. And then a pained breathless grunt sounded somewhere off to her right.
Her next instinct was to find her clothing, to get dressed and then keep to the edge of the pitch-black green room and try to get herself out and away from the obvious and noisy battle.
The stark white leather of her boots were the easiest parts of her outfit to see in the dark and she grabbed them. While dragging them back across the floor, she accidentally snared the Spandex fabric of her jumpsuit and dragged that toward her too, hurriedly taking advantage of her blind fortune. She stuffed her legs into the pants and then before pulling it over her ass, hauled the boots onto her feet, feeling better for the protection. Wriggling on her back, feeling sticky wetness on the floor that she didn’t bare thinking about, she stretched out on her shoulder blades and heels, fighting through the usual struggle of getting the skintight jumpsuit up her thighs and over her hips and then sat up and leaned forward in order to stuff her unencumbered boobs into the top before dragging up the zipper as far as it would go.
Now dressed, she just had to get across a full-on battlefield and somehow escape this room. She began to crawl along on her hands and knees. Passing a couple of corpses, she smelled the iron tang and felt the syrupy fluid beneath her palms and knees. Their blood was viscous and sticky and, sickeningly, still warm. She felt as though she was having to wade through it. Keeping to the left most quarter of the floor; April finally forced herself to her feet and then hauled ass for the doors, the dim Christmas light from the elevator showing her the way.

A black-clad humanoid shape suddenly appeared, blocking her. There was a flash of sword steel. But then a silhouetted length of chain whipped across her eyes, snared the blade even as it slashed toward her, and yanked it out of harm’s way. Another humanoid body, though big and hard compared to the Foot clan ninja, deliberately bumped her, the impact knocking her on her ass and taking the wind out of her.

“Ssstaaay!” The Trench-coat vigilante snarled.

<><><>

Blu and Pu-pul, remaining outside, felt like they had won the lottery. These Foot clan they had been assigned were all females. And the brothers were perpetually horny. Without so much as a word in exchange, the two had exchanged a nod and ditched their weapons. The kunoichi were all armed of course, and weapons could be procured, if necessary. But if they wanted something to play with later, killing the females wasn’t advisable.
Having separated, they had watched the ninja females from the shadows, they were removing items from inside the Studio, mostly equipment, cameras, editing hardware and lights and the like. Carrying them out, often using trollies and loading it via metal ramps into the back of the trucks they had arrived in.

Pu-pul was inching around on the roof of the building next door, getting closer to their prey. Blu had spent half of his time observing their skills and moves, determining who might be the best opponents, the most dangerous. The other half he had been trying to figure out which one to take for himself. Knock her out, drag her down into the sewers to play with her. The Master wouldn’t have been happy about their play times, so the den was out of bounds. But The Master rarely left the den, and there were plenty of other places in the sewers the brothers knew about.
For a long time, the Foot clan females were just moving back and forth, removing equipment from inside the Studio and piling it into the back of their trucks. However, a sudden change occurred. Two of the kunoichi paused, as though listening, and then hurried over to the main entrance, taking up attention positions on either side of the double doors. A minute later the glass doors opened and a broad, powerful figure emerged. The male was wearing full Samurai armour beneath a loose-fitting haori coat, much of which that armour was gleaming silvery metal.

The two kunoichi stepped up to his flanks, probably relaying their progress. The Samurai’s flared helmet dipped as he acknowledged the report. The brothers exchanged a look and then leapt out from their hiding places, landing barely five paces from the Armoured Jōnin.
Somehow the attack didn’t go as the brothers expected. In the time between the two brothers landing and leaping forward again, Blu going high while Pu-pul went low, the Samurai had drawn both matching katana and wakizashi and was swinging offensively with the long sword while the short blade sliced the air between his lower body and Pu-pul, obstructing the brother’s attempt to attack.
The Samurai was moving, immediately sweeping back with one leg, taking the long sword along the same arc, his wrist flipped over and then the blade was shifting back in a return arc toward Blu’s head. Pu-pul spun around on the leg that was beneath him and whipped out with the other, attempting to sweep the Samurai’s leg - who simply, leaned back and lifted his foot and then brought the armoured foot back down. Missing Pu-pul’s ankle by an inch.

Blu could see the problem, as though through a premonition, Pu-pul was about to die. He was in a literally indefensible position, exposed to the Samurai’s long sword six times over. And there was nothing he could do other than trust to luck.
Blu moved to his brother’s aid even before he consciously thought of what he could do. Even as he spotted the flash of barb tipped rope lashing across the air from one of the Samurai’s Kunoichi. He put himself atop his brother even as the razor-sharp folded steel of the katana struck his shell. It vibrated, giving off a dull clang. The barbs from the Kunoichi’s rope hooked into the meat of his shoulder as the short sword’s tip lanced down at his brother’s still exposed face and the long sword simultaneously repositioned.
The rope was used to drag Blu off his brother’s body and even to flip him over onto his shell. He was mentally figuring through his options as the blade once again arced down toward his face. His arm came up to intercept, better to lose an arm than his head.
However, the two blades came to a precise halt a hairsbreadth shy of severing Blu’s forearms and taking Pu-pul’s eye out.

“Hm.” The Samurai grunted, in accented and mask-diffused American. “Not worth my effort, either of you… freaks of nature.”

He swung both blades backward clear of the brothers and then back into their twinned scabbards. And with a swish of black linen and a gleam of polished black lacquer and silver thread he vanished.

Immediately, pulling themselves up out of their prone positions on the asphalt, if not from their shocked realisation of utter defeat, the two brothers righted themselves in time to spy the Samurai stepping into the rear of one of the trucks.

“The Shredder will leave the freaks for his children to practice on.” He called back, deep grating voice amplified through his mempo.

He dragged down the truck’s well-oiled concertina door. By the time the vehicle had pulled out of the Studio’s parking lot, the brothers were back in combat again, facing off against eight armed and well trained Kunoichi.

And yet, once they had shaken off their shock and shattering failure at the hands of the human Samurai, the rest of the fight was actually fun for the brothers. And the promise of the spoils of the battle gave them energy and drive to be careful with their techniques and their enemy. Broken or deceased Kunoichi would not be any kind of fun at all.
The brothers remained careful in the main, at least until they had the measure of the females’ skills. Once they proved not to be much of a problem, the brothers began to have fun. They used empty hand techniques blocking, trapping, and take downs, all interspersed with sexual groping and unmasking - to assess the faces and bodies of their choices, mentally eliminating some, narrowing down to a small core group they might like to fuck.
The eliminations soon became more permanent, though the brothers didn’t kill. They instead broke bones and knocked Kunoichi unconscious, removing the unwanted ones from the battle quickly. Eventually leaving the most sexually attractive on their feet.

Blu actually continued his eliminations, expressing a full-on pleasure of combat, the two who gave him the most challenge were the last two. He was tempted to bring them both down to the sewers but he knew that would be too much of a risk. He would have to pick one or the other.
Pu-pul had long since picked the one with the biggest tits, and had been playing with her for a while, keeping her fighting, winding her, hurting her, exhausting her; then breaking her resolve until she switched from trying to fight to trying to escape, but he didn’t allow that either.
He gave her enough room to reveal her direction of escape and then blocked it, slapping her with an open palm strike to the asphalt, the noise of the slap echoing around the shadowy parking lot. He spared a glance across the ground at Blu while he waited for the half-sobbing, half-cursing female ninja to get up.

Blu was squatting over the hips of his final choice of plaything. He had her flat on the ground on her back, she was flailing and striking him, but they were all desperate slaps and attempts to kick than controlled technique-heavy Taijutsu. She was pinned under his weight, and for her he might as well be an ‘I beam’.
Her feet lashed out, kicking furiously, heels drumming the asphalt and his shell in equal measure, the latter perhaps a harder surface for her soft rubber soled boots than the former. He ignored her kicks while idly slapping her hands aside, occasionally blocking with forearms as thick and hard as tree trunks. Once or twice, he used similar, open palmed stinging slaps as Pu-pul, bringing shrieks and tears to her eyes. Also, Blu was enjoying proving that he could move twice as quickly as she could, and he was repeatedly dipping beyond her own defences to snatch at her clothing, much to her embarrassment and frustration. He had snatched off her hood and cowl early on, while into the ground fight, a few light hooked-hand assaults had also ripped her short length kimono wide open, including the skintight undergarment beneath to expose her pale, sweat sheened and rose-tipped breasts.
They were happily into their endgame now, a couple more minutes of fun and then they would deal with the two females and take them down underground. They felt no concerns about Red and O-rin. All four brothers were equally skilled individually. Two of their kind backing each other up, it would take an army to bring them down. An army with floodlights. And fifty calibre rifles.

Overly excited and not wanting to be left behind, Pu-pul turned his attention back to the busty Kunoichi he had whittled down his choice to. She made one last concerted effort to attack, probably to throw him off guard and give herself the opportunity to flee. Pu-pul was ready for her though. As she skipped in close, attempting to claw at his eyes, he used brick-hard forearms to block her while stamping forward with one leg, hooking his heel around the back of hers, knee pressing against her opposing knee, so she was unable to easily slip clear. He slapped her clawing hands aside with one hand while his other hooked the crossed-fold of her short kimono and yanked it wide open, revealing the well-stuffed black sports bra beneath.

He risked a split-second glance at his brother, noting Blu had his female in a choke hold and was calmly squeezing the consciousness out of her. He turned back then immediately skipped forward enjoying the busty kunoichi’s squeal of shock. Dipping in with his beak, he snared the high neckline of her sports bra, his hard scaly brow caught the tip of her pointed chin. He yanked backward, ripping the bra down the centre. The weight of her big buoyant tits finished the job, overloading the fabric so the orbs tumbled free, ruddy nipples stiff as stones.
She hit the deck, the incidental headbutt having stunned her. Checking she was out cold, he reached down to haul her up onto his shoulder, glancing across at his brother as he reached for her.
Blu already had his female over his shoulder in what the humans called a fireman’s lift. In the second Pu-pul watched Blu, the eldest of the brothers grabbed the seat of the kunoichi’s Iga-bakama between both hands and tore it open, taking the seat of her cycling shorts with it. By the time Pu-pul had his own female up over his shoulder, Blu was impatiently burrowing two of his thick digits up her pussy and ass hole, right up to the second knuckle.
There was a trilling whistle from one of the higher Studio windows that informed the ground level brothers the mission was complete. Perfet timing. Blu and Pu-pul exchanged a grin and hoisted their unconscious prizes, then vanished into the shadows.

<><><>

O-rin was still fighting. Red watched, even as he choked the life out of one of the final Foot clan guys. The youngest of the brothers was using a short chain weighted at both ends. Manrikikusari. And he was duelling toe to toe with the last sword-wielding ninja. His use of the weighted chain was immaculate and their master would be proud of the skill he was showing.
The battle ended with O-rin locking up the ninja’s blade by wrapping it in chain links, then he used his superior mutant strength to turn the blade around and whip it across the Foot clan guys’ throat. Four inches of carbon steel slit through flesh and fabric and an eruption of hot blood preceded the deceased ninja crumpling to the ground. Red saw another of the black clad guys grab a sickle weapon from the floor, from one of his own defeated colleagues, by the time he had risen and taken a step toward the back of his O-rin, Red had copied his lead - retrieving a swastika shaped throwing star from the wall and launching it across the room. Again, the brother threw his preterhuman strength into the flat metal blade, so when it struck the ninja in the temple it pierced his skull. Two of the four tines the only bit of it still visible, the rest buried in his brain. He staggered and then faltered a little before stumbling and hitting the deck.
The last of them, just a shadow in the rear of the room, leapt for the ceiling, popped one of the ceiling tiles and vanished. The brothers signed a mutual plan, O-rin to go down and check on the other two, Red to check on April.

<><><>

The silent vigilante wrapped April in his quickly retrieved trench-coat, including hooking it over her head, which seemed redundant as they were already in the dark. She had wanted to help her colleagues, check on the girls and help to free the men from their bondage. They were her people after all.
However, the mutant had other ideas. He pulled her in close, dropping to a crouch while he slid an arm under her thighs. She ended up sitting upright on his forearm, curled up and leaning into the hard plates of his bony chest and shoulder. The coat covered her head completely, leaving her blind but at least warm.
Before she knew it, they were out of the Studio and flitting through the free New York air. She could at least feel it and smell it clinging to the inside of her nostrils and the back of her throat and she could hear the never-ending sounds of ‘nightlife’ surrounding her.
Her vigilante’s preterhuman speed and manoeuvrability made their travel, wherever he was taking her, feel like a gut-wrenching rollercoaster ride. She felt herself picturing scenes in Spiderman movies, of Spiderman swinging whichever incarnation of MJ was present through the city. At least April kept the screaming to a minimum.

She wasn’t particularly surprised to find herself back in her apartment, once the journey came to an end and the trench-coat was removed from her head. The window overlooking her bed was inexplicably, open cold air sliding in and doing battle with the dry warmth of her AC.
It was still dark, no lights were on in the apartment, which made sense of course. She had switched off the lights and locked her doors (and windows) before she left for work that morning with Daryl and Dr Alcaraz, the latter still expecting to fuck her in another month or so. She’d have to do her best to get out of that.

She could see nothing of the Trench-coat vigilante other than a hulking silhouette. He moved around to the far side of the bed, close to thew wall and took a long silent gaze out of the window – though from back beside her bed so the light from the outside world didn’t touch him.
He appeared to check the windows of the apartments opposite, the silhouetted rooftops and, where he could without getting too close, up and down the street outside. Satisfied, he finally leaped up, performed some kind of acrobatic cartwheel, feet scraping her ceiling for a second; and while inverted, he slapped the sash window down and worked the blinds while returning his feet to her bedroom rug with hardly more than a whisper of noise. He hadn’t moved clear of the concealing shadows throughout the entire manoeuvre. With the blinds drawn and any light from the outside world now fully obstructed, a murky early-hours darkness enveloped them.

“What… What are you?” April eventually whispered.
“Mu…tan…t.”
“Human?”
“Noh.”
“Are you, some kind of… amphibian?”
“Duu not noh.”
“Were you made in a lab somewhere?”
“Duu not noh.”
“Can I… Could I get a proper look at… at you, maybe? …Please?”
“Re-moov… Culow-vs.” It replied, gesturing to April.
“What? I… I don’t want to…” She gasped, stepping backward involuntarily cheeks going hot.
“Owh… dett. Pey… dett.” The rough words took on a threatening sound. “Re-moov… Culow-vs, Aye-prul. Stu-rip.”

From the foot of the bed he lashed out, a sudden movement of one blurring hand, and the main overhead light blasted on, bathing the room with iridescence like a flashbang. April’s reaction, standing a yard or so away, was to follow whatever had zipped past her face and slammed into the wall behind her, beside the door. It had to have struck the light switch. Her eyes locked on the switch. A black shaft of metal, that might have been an old masonry nail at one point, was sticking out of her infuriatingly cracked light switch. She turned back to the mutant, perhaps intending to complain, however all other thoughts were instantly gone from her mind.
There it stood, bathed in dazzling 60-watt LED bulb light.

Though it was no taller than April, it seemed to fill the entirety of the room, standing at the foot of the bed, and in - to all intents and purposes - broad daylight, it felt more alien that April had ever considered.
At a glance, its physical structure and musculature were human but under the light it appeared barely human at all, the muscles covering his torso – that resembled the muscle density and tone of a body builder - were actually overlapping plates of bone or shell, covering in a layer of mottled dull brownish-green skin. Many of the muscle groups forming his arms and legs were also partially covered by the same kinds of interlocking plates, providing a basic natural armour. The hard shell covering its back was, unlike a turtle or tortoise, it was oddly hourglass shaped; sweeping inward at the waist and didn’t stretch very far down the back of his legs, barely below where his buttocks would be.
The Trench-coat vigilante was only wearing a kind of loincloth, not unlike the Japanese fundoshi,
including a waistbelt and a fabric ‘cup’, covered by a central flap of loose fabric. However, it was not enough coverage to conceal its definitive maleness.
It reached for the knot at the front of the loincloth, loosening the long scarf of once-white fabric. However, April’s attention had arced north by the time he started stripping. Though his head and face were the least vaguely human looking, those black emotionless eyes, set deep in their sockets, were off putting and inhuman. The nose was almost doglike and the curved beak covered the mouth, upper jaw and cheeks. There were bony spiral-shaped lobes in the sides of his skull above the hinge of the jaw, most likely ears. The skull was bald and smooth, almost the shape of an egg laid on its side.
The fall of the loosened loincloth finally dragged her eyes southward again. And she saw its cock, more animal than human in shape, and no less than perhaps six or seven inches, while soft.

“Aye-prul.” He grunted. “Stu-rip… Now!”

She felt the heat leave her face and her eyes widen. Fresh fear shook her, anxiety building along with her sense of powerlessness. Her hands were shaking and her heart was hammering in her chest. Her swollen nipples stood out achingly hard as she hesitantly started to reach for the tab of her jumpsuit’s zipper. As if on cue, the Trench-coat vigilante’s cock started to the thicken and lengthen before her eyes.
Slowly, she tugged the zip down as far as her waist, the little hook and eye at her solar plexus still keeping her breasts restrained. She reached down and flicked open the buckle of her waist belt and then lifted one leg and then the other to awkwardly tug off her white boots, tossing them to the rug.

The pulsing pendulum-swing of the large inhuman erection snared her attention again and this time she couldn’t drag her eyes away. She blindly freed that cleavage hook and the weight of her big boobs forced her top to belly open, revealing them to the vigilante. His black eyes bulged and his lips peeled back but April didn’t see either response. His erection bulged with blood, stretching up toward a more vertical angle, stretching up beyond what would have been his navel, her nipples felt like they were matching his cock in how stretched out and blood-filled they were.
A low rumble escaped from somewhere in the back of his throat, drawing her eye upward to that alien face. And as though deliberately timed his long, pointed tongue emerged, first licking around his lips and jaw in a very human style action, before sliding upward and slicking across the curved outer plates of his hard pointed beak.
The last task was April’s usual performance, necessary though hypnotic gyrations while she peeled off her skintight uniform. A supposedly erotic dance required to get herself free of the butter yellow one-piece. Including shimmying her hips to get it down her thighs and calves. The mutant groaned as she timidly revealed her tanned and toned body for him. She hadn’t managed to retrieve her under wear so once the jumpsuit was off, she was naked.

“Gooood… Aye-prul.”

<><><>

O-rin looked around. They were obviously done and gone already. There were a number of unconscious kunoichi lying on the asphalt in the Studio’s parking lot. Surely there would have been spoils of the battle? One of their trucks also remained, full of items stolen from inside. Given the numbers scattered around him, O-rin assumed a few of the kunoichi would have managed to escape into the shadows, out of sight but certainly not far away. Within minutes, those females would emerge from the shadows and take off in their van with its stolen property. It was not the brother’s concern. Their only concern had been April O’Neil.
There might be the risk that, if there had been spoils carted off (and there better had be), some of those conscious ninja females might want to pursue and rescue their comrades. However, surely the truck would be considered the priority, so pursuit of his brothers would be unlikely, and easy enough for Pu-pul and Blu to lose. Satisfied that the truck would deter pursuit down into their home, O-rin left the vehicle for the other females to collect and vanished into the shadows. Mission successfully completed.

Both Blu and Pu-pul had thumped their captured kunoichi a couple more times on the journey underground, whenever they started to come around and attempted to put up a struggle. It was difficult to gauge the right amount of force to use, not enough and they came around too quickly, too much might leave them to stunned to be any fun. Or Worse.
Their chosen females had been hogtied and hooded with their own and their colleagues’ clothing. They carried them down into the sewers, and then started the journey across the girth of Manhattan to an old train car that O-rin had discovered far from their den.
It was inside an abandoned and bricked up subway station that appeared to date back to the nineteen twenties. According to Pu-pul’s researches, the old train car had been left behind when the place had been bricked up, probably due to the expense of removing and repairing it. One of a number of BRT stations that had been shut down by Brooklyn-Manhattan Transit when they had taken over control of New York Transit in 1923. This one had been bricked up just like the well-known City Hall Station. Unlike that one, this had long since been forgotten about.
O-rin had discovered it after noting newer looking bricks and mortar in a single archway down during one of his random excursions. Pu-pul had been able to use some repurposed wiring to link the train car to the city’s power grid, and after a few bulbs had been replaced, they had a little private secondary den, that The Master was unaware of.

O-rin caught up after some time and helped share their load. Not that either female was particularly heavy. It allowed Pu-pul to scout on ahead when they got close and link up his electrical connections, and dragged his dust sheets clear of the seating inside the colourful carriage.
Having caught up, the other two dumped their hogtied spoils onto the two fabric-covered bench seats in the centre of the car.
Blu took his tight and taut choice for himself on the right bench while O-rin invited Pu-pul to join him with the busty one on the left. Drawing a tanto from his sash belt, Blu started slicing through tight and taut’s bonds and then the rest of her clothing, it felt like he was unwrapping a shrink-wrapped chicken.
The other two treated their female as though she was a Christmas present, excitedly grabbing handfuls of her slightly damaged wrappings and ripping them away, revealing the intoxicating bare flesh beneath. The brothers loved the way her big Caucasian tits bounced around on her chest and they gleefully made it happen a few more times by slapping them and poking her in the ribs.

Constance Del Castillo (nicknamed CC) whimpered under the singular creature’s attentions, as much afraid of her predicament as her physical suffering. Her comrade Jessie Silver, over on the other bench, looked equally terrified of course, under attack by another two of the freaks. And for all they knew there could be a whole army of them waiting for their own turns, just out of sight.
Unlike Jessie who was still struggling away in vain, CC had chosen to give in, keeping up the hope that she would to survive, rather than fight the monsters and probably, or certainly, die at their hands.
She forced herself to lie still, fear gripping her anew as her freak drew a knife and started to cut off her already ruined ninja suit. It - the thing - was horrible, monstrous, inhuman and it absolutely terrified her. Its freakishly black eyes appeared to shine as it pulled the last of her Foot clan garments from her and then his pink tongue, long and almost reptilian came out and licked around the edges of its curved beak. It seemed to like her healthy, well-muscled body.

And so it should, she’d worked hard on it for years. Fitness training and healthy eating, almost obsessively. She had started with Judo from six-years-old right through to middle school, then ninjutsu until she was fifteen. Then Brazilian Jujitsu, before the Foot clan had recruited her. They had offered her a paid training job and improved martial arts skills.
She had been suspicious of the ninja training at first, the ninjutsu she had learned hadn’t been particularly good, though she hadn’t realised that until she had started with the BJJ. Her suspicion had lasted up until she had been flown over to Japan with a group of other initiates, where they were all tested by ‘The Shredder’ and Jonin Tatsu, and she had seen with her own eyes the quality of their ninjutsu techniques.
Where had it gone wrong with the clan? These freaks. Apparently, however many there were, they had blighted the Foot’s plans more than once, like they had a vendetta or something. And what even were they? Monsters? Extra Terrestrials? Some kind of mutants? Rapists, that was for sure.

Jessie Silver was continuing to struggle valiantly under the rough, powerful hands of the pair of repulsive, inhuman assailants. She wasn’t doing all that much, slapping at them, wriggling and struggling, trying to push them away. She was already sore and weakened by the violence they had inflicted on her during the mission in the TV studio, and that had been one-on-one. Now she had two of them attacking her, leaning over her, pinning her to the bench.
She had been a loner through middle and high school, not popular at all. Early in her teens she had taken on Goth fashion and music but had remained lonely. It got worse when she started to develop; having c-cups by thirteen, the few girls who had been nice to her suddenly became jealous and abandoned her and though she got plenty of new attention from boys, she soon learned it was the wrong kind.
She had abandoned the Goth look by her second year in high school and, like some Hollywood Ugly Duckling cliché, bloomed into a young woman. She came out of her shell as her looks developed. She even ended up joining the cheerleading squad; which was her sexual awakening - much of it unwanted. Even with the new found popularity and dating popular jocks, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness. Of aloneness.

She did manage to hold onto her virginity throughout high school and into college, really because she never met anyone that she deemed worthy of taking it from her. She made liberal use of her mouth and her titties to satisfy the guys she dated and, on the whole, most seemed happy to spew their loads all over her cleavage or down her throat. A few had tried to go further but she just broke it off and took on the next confident good looker who showed interest. It was almost like an interview process; the continual search for the right man to give her cherry to.
She had been attacked in college. Though even then she had kept her virginity intact if not her hymen. She had escaped with little more than bruises on her breasts and inside where his fingers had forced their way in. She had decided to take up martial arts to better protect herself. She had enjoyed the fitness training (she had missed that aspect of cheerleading) more than the self-defence techniques but had also made herself a couple of good friends, which was enough to keep her going back.
Those friends had brought her into the Foot clan and a new family. It had been presented as a martial arts club and before she had known it, she had transferred her training from Muy Thai to their ninjutsu style. The questionable activities came later.

She didn’t care about the illegal stuff, she didn’t care about attacking people and robbing them, she had been alone too often and victimised constantly, usually by horny guys and this felt like a justified revenge against an uncaring world.
She had been hand-picked to go on the Channel 6 job. The guys had the lowly job of keeping the employees busy inside the studio, while the girls had been given the responsibility of stealing everything on the list, transport it into the trucks and then drive them over to the clan’s dockside lock-up. The girls were given the respect of the most important duty and would be accompanied by sensei himself.
They didn’t wonder why Channel 6 was being targeted, they didn’t care, it was fun and illicit. It tested their cooperative skills, their speed and dexterity and attention to detail.

And then the monsters had come at them. In the parking lot. And even after the Master had defeated them both single handed and had shown his kunoichi the martial respect, to leave the creatures to be finished off. However, they had proved too strong, too fast, too tough and too hard to kill.
In the battle, many of their own rank had been broken, perhaps killed. Some of the cowardly ones, the popular and spoiled who had never been in a real fight, had fled, bringing shame on themselves and the clan. They would be punished.
And yet she and CC specifically had been singled out, then beaten down until they were too tired to protect themselves; throttled into unconsciousness, then bound, hooded and finally carried off to who knew where.
It was obvious they were about to get raped and, as there were three of the creatures, it would probably be more than once. That would be bad enough, it would feel like being raped by wild animals or something. And yet after that, once the monsters had had their fun? What then? She couldn’t bear to think about all the horrific possibilities.
But first they were both going to put through the ringer by these monsters and there was nothing either of them could do about it. Unless they were lucky and ready to take advantage of some window of opportunity. But that was all in the future, right now they had to deal with the two of them turned into sexual toys for inhuman monsters.

CC struggled to keep from slapping and kicking out at the dull grey-green beast-thing. But she had known from the start that he was too strong, too heavy atop her and too resilient to be affected by her attempts at resistance; she had already learned as much in the battle outside the TV studio. Knowing that she was having to cooperate with some freak alien-monster-mutant fucker who obviously planned to rape the shit out of her was painful. But necessary. He slapped her thighs apart and straddled her right leg, the hard bony ridges covering its ass and groin pressing uncomfortably into her thigh. One of those thick, three fingered humanoid hands dipped between the tops of her thighs and he stroked her shaved pussy. The other hand tossed the knife into the ceiling of the railcar, then the freed-up hand slid down her body stroking the ripples of her abdominals before sliding his attention upwards for her small, blancmange-soft boobs.

Jessie continued to struggle under the harsh molestation of the two monsters. The two of them seemed obsessed with her big titties, like most guys she had met. Were all males throughout the universe the same? Even mutant alien creature things? It almost made sense. Unfortunately, these two things were aggressive, like your average rapists she supposed or, in her experience, the average horny teenager. The thought made her wonder how old they actually were.
They liked to get her titties bouncing around and not gently, they were slapping them about, taking big handfuls and squeezing with a careless cruelty; pinching hold of her nipples and stretching them out, stretching out the whole orb while pinching and rolling her torture-stiffened nipples. She cried and pleaded with them but they ignored her, continuing to abuse her boobs to their hearts’ content.

One of them shuffled around so he stood by her head at the side of the bench, while the other forced her legs apart and lowered himself between them. They both mauled a tit apiece. The upper guy suddenly grabbed her by the throat and slid her head to the end of the bench so it hung of the edge. The other one grabbed her thrashing, kicking legs by the ankles, instantly halting her attempts at violence. He spread them wide like it was nothing and wrapped them around its waist. Its flesh felt cold against her bare skin and the hard bony things sticking out of its back and sides felt rough and unforgiving.
However, it was the other creature that filled her attention. Though her view was upside down, she was staring right at its crotch. The hard bony plates that, surprisingly, somewhat resembled human torso musculature reached all the way down to its crotch, where the two segmented plates of its ‘abdominals’ ended with a small central plate that appeared vaguely rectangular.

As Jessie stared, her nostrils reacting to the strange oddly oily aroma exuding from the monster, the groin plate started to lift upward almost like a trap door, the underside was a little pouch like thing with a fleshy hollow that reminded her of the open end of a drawstring bag. As she watched the pouched filled out and the drawstring tip expanded, revealing a blunt pinkish shape within. It was obvious what she was looking at; the placement on its body, the similarity to the familiar human equivalent, even though - when it stretched out and grew fat - its shape appeared anything but human. It grew long and hard, like a glistening pink club, casting its monolithic shadow over her stricken face.
The hand on her throat let go and the tips of its fingers pressed down on the upper-side of the shaft pressing it down and against her lips. Maintaining her continuing rejection, she pursed her lips and shook her head. He leaned down, those torso plates concertina-ing unnaturally to enable to thing to bend down and put itself face to face with her. She couldn’t stand the oily-pool black of its eyes, devoid of iris and sclera. And emotion. And she couldn’t stand her own reality reflected back at her like staring into a smoky mirror. She screwed her eyes shut tight. Still, she could smell the odour of its body, its strange breath, even the coldness of its flesh against hers.

“Obeeeey.” It said, with a guttural inhuman snarl.

<><><>

“Aye-prul…! Hawt!”

Knowing what it did for her boobs, April put her hands behind her back, grasping her hands together against her naked buttocks, feeling the tension in her ribs and chest, making her boobs jut forward enticingly. The mutant flicked out with his tongue, laving his lower lip and chin with the slavering appendage and then flicking around the edges of his beak.
April found herself thinking back to all the previous occasions of having to repay men for favours with her body. This was really just another one of those. They had been ugly men and unpleasant men, old men, arrogant men. Always men with power over her. This was no different really, and she had taken their mutant jizz before without any kind of nasty side effects. She would just have to grit her teeth and get on with it.
What was that saying? Stay calm and carry on.

He stepped forward, closing the space between them. In spite of her self-assertion, she shuffled back a step. Immediately she felt the skirting board against the backs of her legs, and had nowhere to go.
It, he… definitely a he… reached out with his deformed looking three-digit hands. He took hold of her breasts, cupping, lifting and hefting her big, full boobs. He let out a throaty groan of appreciation as he fondled them with an animalistic kind of passion. He let out another throaty staccato sound that April, belatedly, realised was a laugh.
Thrusting her chest further out, she gazed down, watching his hands on her boobs, squashing, pulling them away from her chest by a grip of her nipples, freeing them to bounce back to their natural positions, and slapping them to encourage the erotic reverberation that followed. However, beyond her view, in line with the crux of her shapely thighs was the grey-green column of his erection. It completely snatched her attention. April felt as though she was staring at an alien thing that felt immediately threatening. Fortunately, it pushed the pain and aggression the mutant was excitedly inflicting on her lush body, to the back of her mind.

She was momentarily struck by a flurry of past experiences that exactly mimicked this very moment and instructed her what she should be doing next.
Dave, her Ex, popped into her mind first, of course… But there was also Jake and Pete from high school, Adam, James and then Jackson, through college; Ben and, what had his name been…? Timothy… her Journalism college tutors… There had been a dozen guys in between, naïve one-night-stands or double dates with so-called friends. Her present landlord, her boss Burne Thompson. And then there were the unmentionables, all those times when she had entertained a dick or three to avoid another abuse, or worse.
Staring down at the solid chunk of throbbing meat, April thought she could tell that this one, this inhuman phallus, was a little shorter than the one she had sucked back in the sewer, perhaps as much as an inch, however it was quite a bit thicker in circumference.

She thought back to sneaking down into that sewer, brave but foolish. Can it be both at the same time? She wasn’t sure. She had been imprisoned by the Foot Clan and abused by the gang of them, gang raped. And then she had been rescued by the Trench-coat Vigilante. Or at least one of them. And having been rescued she had been made to show her appreciation with her mouth on an animalistic erection not unlike like this one.
And now here she was doing it all over again, though she felt this mutant was the actual Trench-coat Vigilante rather than one of his all but identical brothers. Still, her memory of the sewer was actually her memory of the video footage, Collins’ HD night-vision imagery. Another man taking advantage, so he could get access to her body.
Still, it was strange, she had experienced it all first hand in the gloom and the throat searing stink, but her memory of it, when it did resurface, was of watching it via a tv screen or computer monitor. She supposed it would be partially self-protection, subconsciously preferring the sense of separation that the memory of the filmed footage offered.

The horny mutant snatched her back out of her thoughts, as she encircled his turgid shaft in her small hand; he was squeezing and groping her boobs like an overly horny teenager, all aggressive passion with a distinct lack of consideration - that she was attached to them. April moaned and gasped at his harsh mauling and the way those chunky inhuman fingers pinched and pulled on her already aching nipples.
He leaned forward to rub his face against hers. If he had been a puppy, it would have been lovely, joyful and heart-warming. But he was no puppy and the beak - neither rough nor smooth - presented a bone-like hardness against her soft skin. He slid it deliberately up and down the side of her face, stroking her cheek, the side of her nose, across her brow, gentle but hard. It left April feeling like she was being sensually caressed by some kind of mêlée weapon. But at least he didn’t hurt her.
There was a slurping noise and then the long, pointed tongue emerged from the side, beneath the beak and swiped slowly up the side of her face, warm and slick. His breath didn’t smell bad which surprised April, nor was she surprised when he licked up the side of her face, across one squeezed shut eye, or even when he wriggled the tip of that tongue into her ear, she twitched and cringed at the sensation but it wasn’t a shock.

The Trench-coat Vigilante was continuing to heft and squeeze her boobs, thumbs pressing and rubbing at her nipples. While her own hand continued to jerk back and forth at a leisurely pace on the thing’s phallus.

When the tongue slid from her earlobe along her jawline and chin and then to her lips, she automatically pursed her hers and kissed it. Immediately the thick, prehensile organ pressed against her lips and forced its way between them, April fought down the strong urge to clamp her teeth shut and prohibit entry, instead she allowed the tongue to invade her mouth, pressing her lips round it and suckling as the warm, dense organ burrowed deeper into her mouth. He filled her mouth caressing her tongue. She gaged as it flicked her uvula. Wrapped around it, teased it.
It slid into her throat, not unexpectedly, thrusting deep, deeper than any cock ever had. She choked on it, her fist tightening involuntarily on the massive animal shaped erection. The tongue finally withdrew, slathering over her tongue as it regressed, dancing in the most animated and mouthful French kiss April had ever experienced. The Vigilante’s tongue swirled around hers and somehow, through texture or perhaps a gumminess to his saliva, their tongues were adhered. It neither halted nor concerned her partner who merely tightened the encircling grasp, the snare. In moments those two spiralling glossae had all but plaited into one. Yet he had all the control, he drew April’s tongue out of her own mouth, pulling on it, stretching it, then pushing it back in, like some parody of fucking.
He groaned in pleasure, his rough hands on her aching boobs, erection nothing less than hot steel in her grasp.
He freed her, first her tongue and then her breasts. He laved the side of her face again as April let out a little moan of relief that her boobs were free of the impassioned abusive groping and her tongue was once again under her own control.
Then the Trench-coat Vigilante put both hands onto the top of April’s head, her wavy auburn locks pinned to her scalp by the pair of large grey-green humanoid hands. April noted the moment foreplay entered its second stage. So very predictable. So human.

“Aye-prul… Sssssuck!”

As he released that reptilian hiss, the hands pressured the top of her head, inhuman strength pressing her down, buckling her knees and forcing her on the rug. She found herself facing his erection, and knew there would be no getting out of this.

<><><>

Jessie and CC knew they were both in a lot of trouble. These monsters had rapidly proved themselves insatiable, and they had the stamina above and beyond any human man. Jessie had already taken both of her monster’s brutal animal dicks into her mouth, had her throat fucked raw and got herself half drowned in their thick, sticky jizz. It had been one after the other too; with little more than a second or two of coughing, hawking up phlegm, drool and monster cum before her mouth was used for a second time. She was stuffed with their vile semen, half choked, half drowned, immersed in it.
The consistency of raw egg and surprisingly hot, the seminal eruptions of both had been belched over her work-numbed tongue.

It was too much, too quick and in her shock-frozen mind, Jessie hadn’t been able to maintain any control, half of the first creature’s viscous climax had backed up immediately, making her cheeks bulge then burst from her nostrils and spewed out of the seal of her lips to splatter all over her neck, chest and the inner curves of her tits, which the beast had a firm hold of while it had let out a pig-like squeal as it squirted its humungous load.
The second one had been rougher still, barely giving her chance to suck fresh air into her lungs, but at least his result had been cleaner. When he had cum, he’d fed her his whole length and pumped his hips in her face, keeping the inches buried deep and emptying his balls - with another supine groan – straight down her spasming gullet into her churning stomach. How she hadn’t immediately vomited the whole load straight back up, or suffocate, was beyond her.

Even throughout her own experience, part of her had remained aware of CC on the opposite side of the car, sucking on her creature’s cock, with just as fast and forced liberal deep throating as she had been made to do. But she couldn’t help feel the unfairness of it. while she been choking on one monster shaft, the other had been crouched between her spread thighs. She had been practically sitting on its hard bony beak-thing, while it wormed its thick tongue between her puffy labia and rocked that thick egg-shaped head back and forth, working the beak up and down the cleft of her athletic buttocks.
By the time Jessie had been struggling to swallow down her ‘partners’ cum - half of it drooling over her manhandled cleavage - a difficult glance at CC had showed her in the midst of sucking off her beast. Her face was flushed beet red, her clenched shut eyes streaming tears, probably as much of panic and desperation as from the physical strain of having her lips, jaw muscles and throat visually stretched around the wrist-thick member. While he punched his cock a good three or four inches down her oesophagus and that couldn’t be an easy task for anyone.

<><><>

April groaned as mutant jism ‘splorched’ ruthlessly down her throat. It was like a series of scalding whip cracks that choked her with their sheer violence. The groan was more a gargle really, a vibration deep in her gullet, and no doubt sent shockwaves of pleasure through the Trench-coat Vigilante’s pulsing erection.
Her hands were cupping his balls, which were halfway concealed by the exoskeletal plates, but the fat spongey orbs were still accessible to her gentle probing fingers. When his cum had finished spurting itself into her stomach, he none too gently shoved her head away from his crotch. Her back thudded against the foot of the bed, having been shoved down there for her sucking duty, but it wasn’t too hard, passion rather than aggression.
She panted, sucking air into her lungs, the coolness soothing her tortured throat, while she stared up at the strange inhuman creature standing over her. He was still erect. It jutted out at her like a lance, glistening with a liberal coating of her saliva, loops of that drool slopped and trailed off the tip and underside to spat onto her bedroom rug.
With a sound somewhere between a guttural growl and a chuckle, he leaned over, grabbed her under the arms and hurled her up and over onto her bed.

<><><>

Jessie always appeared to be a little ahead of CC in the raising of rape-stakes. Perhaps the tight and taut Latina, had been gifted the more patient of the three beasts. Of course, it wouldn’t feel like much of a gift to her, nor the fact that she only had one monster’s cock to contend with. However, surely neither of them could deny that, whatever soreness and discomfort CC was experiencing, Jessie was getting it worse. The blonde was giving one monster’s cock a ridiculously prophetic boob-job, given her sizeable chest and all of the pre-applied lubricant coating her inner curves. At the same time the other thing was again down between her spread thighs and hungrily working its prehensile tongue deep inside her throbbing hot snatch.

“Pusssh!”

The thing’s command snatched her out of the cringy feeling of the other creature with his tongue up inside her, as deep as any human cock had been. The thick slug-like organ was writhing, pumping and flicking inside her hot depths. Almost as bad was the unassailing reality that she was sitting astride that egg shaped skull, the unforgiving curve of that beak pressing into her pubic bone, incidentally massaging her clitoris. The hot pulses of pleasure were a betrayal, and it was all she could do to avoid rocking her hips back and forth on top of that vile face.
However, that raw reptilian hiss of command was enough to snatch her attention to the other one’s need; of Jessie of squeezing her breasts firmly against the hard muscle of monstrous heat throbbing against her ribcage. It hissed gutturally and solid muscled, calloused fingers slapped - not so lightly - against the backs of her hands, which were cupped gingerly around the outer curves of her full breasts, to enclose his erection. Apparently, the soft pillowy sensation wasn’t snug enough.

“Hhhaarduur!”

She pressed inward until her titties ached and burned, crushed between monster cock and her own firm grasp. How many times had she found herself in this position over the years? It seemed all the guys who had ever been attracted to her had either demanded or cajoled her into giving them boob-jobs.
She remembered that first time, she had misunderstood, thinking he was asking her to get cosmetic surgery until he took over and showed her, impatiently and with snide, ridiculing remarks about how dumb she was.

That had been Mark Stearns, hadn’t it? She had dated the Wide Receiver of Mounds View’s senior team for the first half of their final year. It hadn’t gone well; even though she was on the cheer squad, she had felt ashamed to have also been picked as the team’s unofficial mascot. She had the largest pair of all the ‘hot girls’ of their year, not including the fat girls obviously, apparently their titties didn’t count. The other cheerleaders had even made up a rhyme about her but she hadn’t enjoyed that much either - something about Jessie’s tits being the tits that put the mounds in Mounds View, and that all of the boys want to view them… something like that. The other girls had tried to laugh off her lack of appreciation as prudishness. That it was just good-natured ribbing and nothing more.

Then Stearns had asked her out and she had said yes. Following a cinema date and a walk around the Spring Lake Park, they’d shared their first kiss and he’d groped her titties for the first time, the first boy to do it. She had felt more than a little reservation about letting him get so sexual so quickly but she hadn’t pushed him off or complained. Which had been her mistake. Then next date had been out to the lakeside which had all been a ruse to see her in a revealing swimsuit. And while making out he made sure he got his hands under the top of her suit and all over her bare breasts, pulling and twisting her nipples. His caresses, like the rest of him, were always forceful and heavy handed. And again, she hadn’t pushed him off or complained.

The third date had them at a restaurant where, not old enough to drink, Stearns had brought a supply of cheap vodka in the back of his car. They had sat on the back seat after the meal in the far corner of the parking lot, getting drunk and making out. Again, she knew it had been a mistake.
She had ended up giving him her very first ‘boob-job’ that thing he had asked her for last time where he had shamed her for her naïveté, she had only been saved that indignity during the beach date because there was nowhere private enough. On that day he had settled for hauling her pair out of her swimsuit giving them a rough manhandling and sucking. She had pulled herself out of his embrace when he had started chewing painfully on her nipples.
So, there she was, following the fun of the restaurant, on the backseat of his car trying to protect her virginity; fighting a losing battle, having to physically fight him off, the struggling and complaining falling on deaf ears. Grasping at any possibility, she had begged to give him a titty-fuck, the parlance she was aware of. Her offer had seized his interest, which had somehow saved her from getting raped on the back seat. And it was only because he couldn’t get it up again after that first time. Afterwards, he had passed out drunk with his slimy cock hanging limply out of his jeans while Jessie, fighting back tears, had used cleaning wipes that he kept in the glove compartment to clean up the huge stinking load that he sprayed all over her cleavage, throat and chin.

Seeing him asleep and spotting an opportunity, she had sneaked away and managed to wrangle a lift home with one of the busboys from the restaurant. He had been a nice guy who - when she didn’t agree to his request to see her boobs or to kiss him - hadn’t lost it and raped her or robbed her or killed her. She had texted Stearns that night that they were over. And that had been when the slutty rumours had started, but the attention from boys hadn’t abated, it had only ramped up, some of the girls were sympathetic, some called her a slut, some called her a prude, some called her a cock tease.
But that kind of thing was par for the course when it came to cheerleaders dating jocks from what Jessie’s team mates had told her. Fighting off date-rape attempts, Rohypnol-spiking at parties, or being tricked into being the train-for-the-team, which Jessie had never even considered a possibility until a couple of the other girls gleefully explained what pulling a train actually meant - it was all normal for the life of high school cheerleaders. Jessie wouldn’t have been surprised if none of her squad mates had remained a virgin beyond seventeen.

What it all meant was that she knew how to do it, was used to guys being aggressive and squeezing her boobs too hard and she could take the rampant aggression of the hands and cocks, and the never enough lube and the chafing heat and the slimy uncomfortable aftereffects that of course she always had to clean up herself. Once their balls were emptied, they guys were through and no longer interested in her. At least until they were horny again.

Between them those two monsters thoroughly savaged her tits, her hands pressing them around its thrusting cock, his hands on top of hers, pressing even harder and the power of his pelvic back and forth were all too much for her to take, she shut off, closed her eyes and tried to close her mind to the anguish and the pain of his belligerent thrusting.
She tried to run through mental exercises, like a guy holding off a too-quick orgasm, distracting herself with kata, with performing the kuji-kiri, with numeral counting and dojo terminology in Japanese, trying to put kanji characters to the overly familiar spoken terms, all to take her mind off the titty-torture she should have been well used to.
Fortunately, the creature ran out of stamina for once. And with a raw animal squeal, its thick shaft started to pulse dramatically and then she was bombed by a series of pearlescent detonations, like water balloons filled from a hot faucet, exploding across her face and upper chest.

She was utterly drenched, the first struck her under the chin like a punch and the pressurised fluid spurting upwards and splattered back down over her lower face, she automatically tucked her chin in to see what was happening and took a second liquid fist straight in the face, it got in her eyes and up her nose and all but glued her mouth shut. She could feel it like hot oil running down the sides of her jaw and her eyes stung like an invasion of soap.
The rest blasted at the crushed inner curves of her titties, three strong jarring jets that slapped and scalded her flesh. She tried to let out a squeal, a vent of her despair and pain, but all she got was a throatful of creature cum, she glugged on it and immediately started to choke. The monster had more jizz for her though, and was adamant about not letting up no matter what. She could do nothing but take it all while she attempted to clear her airway of too much hot jism.

<><><>

April was getting pounded gruffly, missionary position and pummelled into her bed. The mattress would surely have to be replaced, while the frame was rattling and squeaking like a sack of rats while the iron head hammered her bedroom wall with a loud machinegun rattle. The thickness of the Vigilante’s hips was forcing her toned thighs wide apart and she quickly found it most comfortable to stretch them out straight in a wide knee-locked ‘V’, toes pointed, legs jerking in time to the rough and abrasive thrusts.
He had grabbed her arms and tossed them up over her head. She got the silent command and left them there, a complete submission. It also left her boobs to bounce however they liked and though his eyes and expression were essentially unreadable, the way he was staring at the animated dance of her breasts told her he was more than a little taken with them. He was male after all.

Still, even with all that aggression and control and the cold-hearted use of her body for his pleasure, April’s pussy was drenched and she had already climaxed barely a minute after he had climbed onto her and penetrated her passage with that length of fat animal meat.
He had climbed onto the bed, squatting on the balls of his bare feet. Perfectly balanced he had grabbed her ankles, stretched her legs out straight up and then spread them wide apart. His squat had devolved into a kneel which put him right there between the tops of her thighs and he had grabbed her limp arms by the wrists and threw them back onto her pillows. All April could see was the drool-slicked pillar of his fat, meaty cock flesh, jutting in her direction, the length deceptively foreshortened, the girth looking thicker and more anxiety inducing than ever.

He had shuffled again, working his hugely meaty and powerful muscled thighs beneath hers until his heavy cock was lancing right over her pubic mound, its blood-filled hardness the only thing stopping it from physically slamming down onto her pussy mound.
There was no more foreplay, no testing to see how well lubricated her sheath was. He merely grabbed himself like a truncheon, rocked back with his hips - if he even had hips - so the flattened mushroom of the crown was pressed up against her obviously swollen vulva, and then pressed it into her.
He let out a guttural groan as her inner lips splayed around his girth and her drenched tunnel obediently stretched to accommodate him. Once secure, a couple of inches safely inside her tunnel, he released his grip and instead reached under her. And grabbed a full on, two handed grasp of her smooth clenched buttocks; before unceremoniously feeding the rest of his shaft into her, until that blunt mushroom crown was crushed firmly against her cervix.

April was panting deeply, almost hyperventilating, her whole body felt tense and her mind was reeling at the vision she was looking up at. An inhuman creature lying on top of her, astride her own nudity. His reproductive organ, his dick, hilted inside her. How was this happening to her?
She momentarily forgot or recoiled from the initial acceptance of payment of a debt - to give her body out of gratitude the way she had found herself doing so many times over her adult years. In this moment she was living a freakish and disturbing fantasy, screwing a creature, a monster or an alien even. It felt icky, bestial and unpleasant, somehow sordid, sleazy, unnatural. Wrong.
But then he started to rut into her and in so many ways it was absolutely normal - his movements, even his guttural grunting was so familiar, so normal, that she almost felt it to be natural. Weird, but natural. She could almost envision herself on a movie set, playing a role; that they guy fucking her was nothing more than a man in a suit, latex and animatronics and makeup. But inside just a guy like any other. In fact, a nice young guy who had rescued her from harmful situations numerous times. Saved her life. A protector. Someone who, for once might actually be worthy of her body.

She knew, had known since puberty, that she had, to all intents and purposes, the perfect figure. And from an early age, as soon as she started to note the interest from boys her own age and grown men, she had known that she had something powerful, something that gave her an advantage in life. And yet from the start she had found herself, again and again, failing to protect or enforce that advantage. Every time it turned out to be boys and men that were literally unworthy of getting to use such a body that somehow succeeded; while those other guys, the ones who might well be worthy always seemed to come up short. Either they were run roughshod over by the assertive bad boys who wouldn’t take no for an answer, who manipulated, who lied and deceived to get what they wanted. And succeeded again and again, using her and then discarding her, breaking her heart time and time again.
Or it was her own foolishness, her inability to put aside her emotions and accept those nice boys who might not spark lightning bolts between her thighs but would not manipulate, would not use and toss her aside or break her heart or would even walk over broken glass for a chance to be with her. Boys who, just maybe, wouldn’t only see her as a purely sexual being and see the real person inside this hourglass of perfection. The person with faults and dreams and bad days and morning breath…

Staring up and the monstrous inhuman face, the canine nose, the beak, the onyx black doll-like eyes, yet in that moment, she saw through that to the human within. With spirit and passion and stamina of youth, reminding her of the boys she dated throughout high school and early in college - their sneering confidence, the aggression and sexual domination and the bottled-up cruelty never far from being unleashed, like a popped cork. All the talents of those infernal ‘bad boys’ who had made her panties so wet so often.
However, there was also the also gallantry, the desire to protect and save and, the chivalry of the knight in shining armour. That willingness to take on the danger, to walk over broken glass for her. And she realised in that moment that after so long she might have, after all, found her perfect ‘bad boy with a heart of gold’ in this inhuman creature from the sewers of New York. Her very own Galahad, or Lancelot.

“And damn…” She thought, her attention switching from the sparking realisation in her mind to the sparks of sexual joy bursting throughout her sweating rutting body. “…But this guy’s really good at fucking too.”

<><><>

CC was getting more rough treatment from her lone monster attacker. Even so, looking over at the other girl, she was glad she was only getting it one on one.
She had been watching Jessie while she had been made to sit on her mutant’s muscular lap and ride his huge shaft on their bench seat. He had started to squeeze and roughly spank her perky buttocks while she bounced on his shaft so watching the opposite padded bench, reflected in the glass of the train car, had been a minor distraction for her.

Once Jessie had realised that she was going to be expected to take both of those big mutant dicks at the same time, she panicked and started to struggle and then outright fight them. It only made things worse, she was punched and slapped, limbs twisted and locked up with immaculate technique that would have made even their master proud. Though Jessie just wept and hollered pointlessly throughout the two mutant things beating on her.
CC wouldn’t have been surprised if Jessie hadn’t ended up losing a kidney with the kinds of repeated low punches she took. And her jaw looked so bruised it might have been dislocated with the slapping her face took. Her eyes were certainly swelling badly.
Within only a few seconds they had beaten the fight out of her. They had shuffled themselves and her limp body about until they had her where and how they wanted her, and then with saliva, sweat and some of their own cum, Jessie was soon lubed up, sandwiched face down between the two creatures and then impaled on one cock and then the other. Pussy and then, a couple of seconds later, anally.

The double penetration brought the big boobed kunoichi around like she had been engulfed in a hose of ice water and she was instantly jerking while pinned between them, screaming and cursing and begging the two things, while they forced her to take those two huge dick-like appendages in her at the same time.
As expected, they were rough and quick, sawing in and out at a pace that to CC looked well practiced. That anal rape especially had sounded heartrendingly agonising and the ex-cheerleader’s sobbing and squeals hadn’t let up for a second. Neither were they being acknowledged by her two muscle-bound assailants. Jessie was obviously nothing to them but a tight gripping pleasure-giving thing.
CC’s own rape-partner pulled her back to her own torment, first one of those mutated hands came up and gripped her by the neck, tightly, almost cutting off her air way. She was hauled forward against its armour-plated chest and then the slick slug-like appendage of its overly long tongue slicked a trail along her slender neck, flicked across the lobe of her ear and then burrowed vilely inside. The appendage probed and tasted while she squirmed and whimpered and the disgusting feel of the thing.

“Ssssuucck… moooor!”

It growled the command, after freeing her slimy ear canal from its probing tongue. Yet it was no relief. Firstly, her own jaw had felt in danger of dislocation that last time she had been made to suck it off. Secondly, that wet guttural sound made her shiver, she was sickened by it. It was the kind of speech she would have imagined coming from a demon or devil or something.
She was hauled off the thing’s well lubed cock - thank fuck her pussy had decided to protect itself by gushing all over the place, leaving her slick and accommodating - and pushed roughly to the filthy floor of the subway car.
She didn’t hesitate or try to get out of what she had to do. After witnessing the consequence for Jessie trying to refuse them, and the infernal din of savage suffering she was continuing to endure at their hands and other appendages, CC was adamant she would do what she was told and do the best damn job she ever had.

She took one last glance over her shoulder at Jessie, as though to remind herself of the consequence of not sucking off this monster. Jessie was being pummelled by those two mutant meat-sticks, a hellish power behind those rapid overwhelming thrusts, but she also had the one bent over her back mangling her left boob, more than a handful in his grey-green fist. That fist clenching so that soft mammary flesh bulged between those spread fingers.
As if that torture wasn’t enough, the one underneath her was also forcing her to accomplish an additional masochism. He was making her perform some animalistic parody of a tongue-kiss. Her lips encircling his extended tongue, her throat was bulging outward with that almost phallic-length serpentlike appendage. Her cheeks were flushed a mottled maroon, slobber was pouring down her chin, her eyes were bulging, though staring at nothing and her shoulders were quivering, though not due to the back and forth shunt of her body from the DP, but from her pointless efforts to pull fresh air into her lungs.

Suddenly sickened, even though the glance had been less than a second’s worth, CC turned her back on her fellow kunoichi and stretched her mouth wide, as she lowered her slick lips to her own torturer’s erect member.

<><><>

April had lost herself as countless electric jolts of erotic pleasure raced through her loins. She was in a swoon as the sensual joy danced throughout the full firmness of her breasts, tingled up and down her spine and zinged delightfully in her mind. She was suspended between two orgasms, riding out the delicious aftershocks of the first while at the same time being drawn upwards with the pre-shocks of the next.
All thoughts of high school bad boys, aggressive men who used her body and cast her aside, or made sexual demands in return for their help, were gone from her mind. As were concerns about big powerful inhuman creatures, the semi-conscious feeling that she was somehow, disgustingly, committing an act of bestiality. And even the risk, however miniscule she assured herself it had to be, of compatible DNA. She was just exquisitely lost, floating on an ecstatic rollercoaster of erotic delight as her Trench-coat vigilante pounded into her.
It felt like they had been going at it for hours and indeed, through the gaps around her window drapes she could see the brimming early light of the dawning sun seeping in.

She didn’t really remember letting herself go, she had just been swept away by the sheer pleasure of it all as she was thrown onto her bed and fucked. She had been pummelled by that girthy, non-human erection, picked up and launched into orgasm after orgasm, overwhelmed by the amount and levels of pleasure she was subjected to. And there was the ease with which her vigilante saviour picked her up and threw her down, tossed her and rolled her and hauled her into whatever position he required. It made her feel light as a feather, in that moment of recognition, before her filled her back up with cock and set about pounding her toward whichever climax awaited her next.
The sensual uplift, a keening elevation that seemed to make her weightless and breathless; the earth-shaking, rumbling, limb-quivering breathtaking orgasmic eruption that sank her down heavily, while simultaneously weightless. Sinking into the mattress, while feeling like she was descending right through it. All the while, enveloped by mind-blowing titanic explosions of sheer bliss, that felt like she was blown right out of her writhing, quivering body to another place entirely, a divine heaven where she floated on ambrosian oceans of pure euphoria.

Right now, she was ascending and rapidly. Her body braced somehow on rubber hands and knees, while her monster-protector pounded her from behind appropriately, doggie style, like an animal was fucking her. Her inner thighs were swampy with heat and trickling fluids, her thighs, buttocks and breasts were aching and no doubt marred by bruising of overly excited hand prints and pounding hips. Even her scalp was throbbing, sore from where her inhuman lover had grabbed a handful of her dense wavy locks and pulled at it, stretching her up, arching her back and pulling her onto his violently driving phallus.
And then it came again, the tingling in her diamond hard nipples, the tingling in her swollen and stretched labia, her buttocks clenched so hard they were almost cramping, and the flushed cheeks of her face, her lips, beneath her skin, down her spine. It all coalesced into some beautiful pink bubble of mindless, glorious sexual perfection that enveloped her and snatched her, squealing joyously, right out of her body into sheer delight.

<><><>

The three brothers made full and ecstatic use of the spoils of their battle against the Foot clan.
They made good use of the two captured female’s tight holes. And enjoying themselves throughout, they made the experience last for hours, incorporating their own training and their immense stamina to give themselves the pace and energy to really put those two comely female humans through the ringer.
After all, what was the point of punishment if it did not punish? Though if he was honest, Blu thought the idea of getting themselves off - as some kind of ‘justified’ form of punishment of their enemies was pretty laughable. Really nothing more than an excuse. Of course, he enjoyed their collective excuse and wouldn’t have it any other way. According to The Master, the brothers were in the throes of puberty, and this provided a quality outlet for their stresses and their needs as they became young adults. This was a reasonable method of getting their needs met, without just snatching random, innocent females off the subway, or from Central Park.
So, they took prisoners from the ranks of their sworn enemies, used them to their full potential, and then released them once they were done. It was a better result that leaving them broken or deceased, at least they had the hope a continuing future offered. Plus, once they had been well and truly fucked, and were limping off, exhausted, often with minds shattered by their experience - perhaps it might make them think twice about facing the brothers a second time. Perhaps they would cast aside their loyalty to the criminal ninja clan and walk a better path. Either way it provided a positive outcome for the brothers and the three of them made full use of it while they could.

The first few hours the brothers had switched around between females and their orifices, making sure the humans both got equal shares of the three brother’s members.
Blu eventually relinquished his possessiveness over the taut slender one, though he relished her pained and reluctant cooperation. He allowed O-rin to take her while he tried out the busty-blonde, who though she had all but given up on trying to fight their attacks, continued to struggle and plead and make noise, Blu found that equal parts enticing and annoying.
He repeatedly looked across at tight-and-taut to see O-rin put her on her hands and knees, slamming herself back onto his member and making full use of her over-burdened back entrance. She was obviously very sore but was also doing her best to provide Blu’s brother with an energetic and passion-filled performance. O-rin certainly enjoyed himself.

Once Pu-pul had emptied himself into busty-blonde’s shrieking gullet for who-knew what number of times, he took his greased up and immediately resurgent erection over to the other side of the train car, following his brother to share tight-and-taut, also wanting to sample new flesh.
That left busty-blonde for Blu to get to know, and fuck, exclusively. He made the most of their intimacy and freedom, exploring her softer and more bouncy body, as well as her more vocal and animated responses to being stuffed full of his meat even after the hours both females had already endured.

Tight-and-taut started to make much more noise after that, however stained, pained and gravelly her vocalisations now were. However, neither brother forced her to take two of them at once into the same hole - which they had done to busty-blonde. And so, finding her reproductive orifice over-stretched and not as pleasurable when he thrust his erection into it, Blu opted most often to make use of her still tightly grasping rear hole or her mouth. Especially when he instigated spanking, slapping, and pinching of her big breasts or smooth buttocks while he was secure down her throat. The vibrations from her muffled, and hoarse, screams and squeals were truly gratifying.
They spent a good hour like that, Blu shifting between busty-blonde’s holes and between her tits, while O-rin and Pu-pul took a hole each of tight-and-taut’s, maintaining fast and savage double penetration after double penetration.
However, for that last time before their final break, O-rin rejoined Blu on busty-blonde. They took her together, throat and anus, while they both elatedly squeezed, pulled, slapped and pinched her big swinging tits and raw nipples with all four hands.

The last two hours, following O-rin’s suggestion, had the brothers changing things around. The three of them focussed exclusively one girl and really gave her some pronounced sexual torture - a half hour at a time of impaling all her holes with all three of their enormous organs.
The other female, battered, bruised, terrorised and barely conscious, rested on the other bench seat; dozing in her exhausted slumber, even while her compatriot was screaming around a jaw stretching, throat bulging phallus. And, however muffled her cacophony was, it still rattled the windows of their carriage prison.
After they had all dumped their jizz into her they took their still full hard phalluses over to the other bench and repeated their fun on the second Foot clan Kunoichi, this time they added an extra little touch to their game, trying to make tight-and-taut make as much of a desperate din as busty-blonde. It took some doing - slapping, pinching and touches to pressure points, especially the sensitive erogenous ones but they got her screaming shrilly around the shaft stretching her lips and bulging her gullet.

The Brothers sensed the rising temperature in the sewer and heard the increase in the city-noise above their heads, people rising from sleep, emptying bladders and bowels, making breakfast and then heading out in their cars to work. And yet they were still pummelling away inside busty-blonde, for one last farewell gangbang, having fucked tight-and-taught literally unconscious. And Blu lamented that they would no longer be able to refer to that particular female as either ‘tight’ or ‘taut’.
Finally squirting tiny amounts of their seed into busty-blonde, who should now be called battered-and bruised, they finally righted themselves.

Collecting their weaponry, they hoisted the unconscious females over their backs. Pu-pul and Blu headed to their pre-chosen sewer exit to drop the two females into a stinking trash-strewn alley.
O-rin would leave them a little warning. He would watch them from a distance, practicing his stealth skills during the daylight hours. He would tail them to wherever they were eventually taken. And would leave them the threat. Possibly a note scrawled on an old flyer and shoved under an apartment door, or if they were taken to a hospital, written in rat’s blood onto window glass of whatever room they ended up in.

“Speak to no one of what occurred. Or the consequences will be… bad.”

<><><>

April remained lost in her own pleasure, the numbing pulsing rhythm of the vigilante’s cock driving in and out of her stretched and flooded pussy was a background sensation that, like the tracks of a train, kept her afloat, kept her pulsing and kept her climbing through the blissful atmosphere of sexual euphoria. No, not climbing, being punched upward and upward like a balloon, caught before the descent and tossed higher still. It was delicious and she wanted it to go on forever. But she knew it couldn’t. She knew her body and what it did to men, she knew the way her pussy walls clenched tight and throbbed and pulsed around a guy’s cock and many of them had commented at how powerful her pussy muscles were when she was riding out an orgasm, that she could practically restrict their ability to thrust.
And of course, the hypnotic, rhythmic dance and swing of her boobs, taking up the whole canvas of her ribcage to perform their erotic performance. Her nipples providing their own back-of-her-mind insistent sensation, as they tingled and ached with their blood-filled stiffness. Hard as bullets and almost as sensitive as her engorged clitoris, so that even the cool air of her apartment was sending electric-paroxysms throughout her violently swinging breasts.
The ecstasy of her orgasm hit her suddenly, even unexpectedly. The bricks stacked without her realisation, lifting her higher and higher until she found herself in heaven, and this heaven was explosive.

When she came back to earth, the descent was definitely a shock. The sense of loss, that the orgasm of her life was fading, almost brought tears to her eyes. They might well have, if she hadn’t already been weeping tears of joy which had all but exhausted the reservoir.
But the sense of loss and heart-breaking disappointment were quickly eclipsed when she came into herself, realising she was bent double on her sweat-soaked bedding - on her back with her legs on either side of her head, though spread wide so her knees were outside of her shoulders. Her hands were still thrown back over her head in submission. Her vision filled with the muscle-like plates of the vigilante’s naked form driving back and forth above her, his muscular humanoid arms were extended above hers and matching the wide ‘V’ of her legs. The three fingered hands were gripping her lower calves securely, keeping her spread and doubled over, while those powerful hips continued to pummel that girthy animalistic phallus in and out of her well-lubricated and yet tight gripping tunnel.

The heat she felt, not only permeating her loins but along the backs of her splayed thighs was intense and she could feel rivulets of sweat trickling across those smoothly muscled curves, seeping into the rucked, cum-stained blankets beneath her taut, aching buttocks.
She stared up at the alien face, seeing the inhumanity for a second with a new clarity. Those eyes black as liquid ink, surrounded by grey-green folds of furrowed flesh revealing the intensity of emotion, giving life to something that felt alien to her. The skull elongated and hairless, dimples for ears, mottled skin. The canine nose, wet, its nostrils flaring above the hard beak. The fat bottom lip slick with drool, slack, the mouth hanging open. Breath panting and quick, the lolling tongue, agile, flicking at the air, serpentine tasting - perhaps her bodily aroma, perhaps her emotions, perhaps her undeniable lust. Even with that lust the vigilante’s face sent a shiver of fear through her, her heart raced and her loins clutched tight.

He let out a guttural groan at the increased tightness enveloping him and counter attacked, increased thrusting, increased groaning, an air of savagery twisting that passion-filled expression further. The head dipped, the beak touching one big swinging breast, just the lightest of scrapes. He positioned the ridge of his beak to catch her steel hard nipple as it circled and wheeled in time to his rough aggressive thrusts, little scrapes and scratches that gave her hot sensual shocks and snatched gasps and groans from the back of her throat. It was enough to toss the fear aside and embrace the pleasure he was hammering into her.

April’s latest orgasm came out of the blue, a hot wash enveloping her from her loins upward, as though she was sinking into an ocean of bliss. She lost herself fully into it, even as it transformed into multiple eruptions of ecstasy, like popping candy, once again snatching her fully out of her body and far away from her uneasiness about the identity of her partner.

The next shock that brought April back into her body came as her Trench-coat vigilante suddenly jerked his erect member out of her pulsing, searing hot pussy. She gasped, air catching in the back of her throat, almost making her cough. Her eyes snatched open. She stared up noting only after a second’s confusion that her vigilante was kneeling up on his haunches, still holding her thighs apart, while that club of phallic flesh was sliding downward, subtle hip movement repositioning it between her buttocks.

“Spoo-red asssss!” The Vigilante growled.
“No! Oh, please, don’t!” She gasped. “You’re way too big for that, please!”
“Spoo-red!”

Terrified yet reluctant to turn down her white knight, she reached down and took a firm two-handed grasp of her buttocks then spread them apart, feeling the blunt head of his meat pressing urgently against her clenched sphincter.

“Relax April, relax.” She moaned, a murmured mantra.

The vigilante was pushing hard against her tiny star and the pleasure-rhythm emanating from her pulsing loins was already turning to a sharp searing pain. And she could tell that her ability to relax was slipping through her fingers as her sense of panic began to envelop her again.
The vigilante growled and groaned as he tried to push his girth into her clenched anus, a great shiver wracked its way down him, visibly shaking his powerful body. His shaft slipped free of her buttocks; the slickness of his pre-cum, her own juices and sweat and his full-body shaking slid the crown free of her cleft, whipped over the swollen lips of her trembling pussy.
The sensation was too much. He erupted a dense streak of silvery white arced up from the slit at the end of that animal cock and slapped April right in the face. She gave a little shriek, throwing her head back and screwing her eyes shut. A second burst slapped down into her hair, raining down a solid trail across her brow, cheek, down her nose and bridging her lips, marking her chin and then splattering her up-thrust cleavage. It clogged her nostrils, forcing her to part her lips to breathe. A gout drooled into her mouth making her taste its heady saltiness and tickling the back of her throat, making her swallow it. She also registered its heat.

However, more streamers were already slapping down onto her flesh, three more striking her face, pooling over her eyes, trailing down her jawline and throat. And then the rest squirted over her breasts, steaming her aching nipples, and her straining abdomen. Even the dregs that drooled over her bare pubis, stung her engorged clitoris and splayed labia, remaining hot and viscous.
But by then she had swooned again and could barely acknowledge the raw sensations between her splayed thighs.
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April O'Neil - Evidence Gathering