New entry for the backer driven story “The Flesh-Crafter”

You can find the new entry below the break (which begins a new heroine) or you can read the story in its current entirety HERE.


Cecilia

Fairview’s official super team was the Fairview Defenders. It was a team of six superheroines, but the public often forgot there were more than five of them. The sixth and often forgotten member of the team was Cecilia, a support member who rarely left the team’s base.

It wasn’t just that the tech genius mostly provided support for the team via various technical creations, she rarely entered the field with them. It’s that Cecilia was a wholly forgettable and easily overlooked young woman. Even while training at The Academy she’d been overlooked by her classmates who had never bothered to give her a superheroine name. So the forgettable girl, who had no interest in a flashy superhero persona, simply went by her given name: Cecilia.

She was happy out of the spotlight, content staying at the team’s base and putting her superpowered mind to use. She wore no costume, just simple grease-stained jeans and a sleeveless white tank top covered by a baggy black hoodie that she always kept zipped. She often wore the hood up, keeping her face and unkempt greasy, dull-colored green hair covered.

Cecilia didn’t think of herself as pretty, although she might be if she cleaned herself up a bit. But she didn’t care to, she just wanted to invent useful gadgets and spend as much of her time in her team’s workshop.

That was what she was doing when she met the Flesh-Crafter. Her team was out on a mission and she was alone in their base, but that had never worried her before. No villain or criminal had ever been daring enough to attack their base, it just wasn’t done. It was against the unwritten rules the villains and heroines played with.

When Cecilia first heard someone enter the workshop she didn’t bother to look up from her project. If whoever it was needed her attention they’d call for it. When they didn’t she quickly forgot someone had been in the room with her, assuming wrongly whoever it had been had gotten what they needed and left.

It wasn’t until she heard a quiet, unsettling giggle that she realized she was not alone. She set down her project and spun her chair around to see who it was, assuming it was one of her teammates playing another prank on her. She dropped the tool she’d been holding when she saw the Flesh-Crafter standing there, within arm’s reach of her.

“Who are you?” she asked, confused. “What are you doing in here?”

His hand shot out and he grabbed the small heroine’s throat, squeezing her neck and lifting her out of her chair. She clawed at his hand and kicked in a hopeless attempt to break free. She was no stronger than a normal woman and she could already feel how physically strong this man was.

Her confusion over who this man was and why he was there died almost as soon as he’d grabbed her neck. Clear impressions of his intentions flowed into her mind. He was there for her, there to punish her for not being pretty enough and planning to take her back to his lair to “fix” her.

Having been given a clear impression of the danger she was in, Cecilia pushed down the panic she was feeling and began looking around for a tool or project she could use as a weapon. As soon as she did the hand gripping her neck tightened.

Stop. Surrender and stop fighting.

She refused, seeing something nearby that might help. She reached for it. He jerked her body away from it, squeezed her neck tighter. She gaged and gasped for air, clawing at his hand again. Within moments her mouth hung open as she rasped, unable to breathe. She was starting to see stars, the world spinning and floating away from her.

When her arms fell limp to her sides just before she passed out the villain loosened his grip just enough to let her breathe. She gasped, her vision clearing.

No more fighting. You will submit now.

She didn’t respond, she didn’t need to. She could feel that if he was touching her he could see into her mind. Not read her thoughts, not exactly, but enough to know what she intended. And he knew that she was done fighting.

Cecilia had only been defeated by a supervillain a handful of times, and each time she’d been with the rest of the team. When they’d been enjoying the spoils of their temporary victory over the team of superheroines they’d overlooked her, not so much as unzipped her hoodie to see what kind of figure she had underneath.

She’d never been fucked by a villain, never had one force himself on her. Thanks to the clear intentions she saw while the Flesh-Crafter was touching her she knew that was about to change.

When he cleared the workstation she’d been sitting at, slamming an arm down and simply shoving everything on it to the floor, she knew exactly what he intended to do. He turned her around, bent her over the table.

“No,” she whimpered, fighting back tears. “Please, don’t do this to me. Not like this. I’ll suck you off. I learned at The Academy, they taught us how to pleasure a villain so they wouldn’t do worse things to us. Let me fuck you, just don’t rape me!”

No. A clear intention as he grabbed her jeans and yanked them down, taking her panties with them.

She tried to turn to look back at him, hoping when he saw the tears streaming down her face he’d have mercy. But as soon as she started to turn her head he grabbed the back of it and slammed her face into the desk.

Keep your head down. Close your eyes. Concentrate on the feeling of being violated for the first time.

She sobbed, too terrified to do anything other than what he wanted her to do. Her sobs became open cries of despair when she felt him rubbing his cock up and down the trench of her slit. He was taking his time, making her suffer through the anticipation.

No, it was more than that. She could sense it through his touch. He knew her active P-Gene left her with a supercharged libido just like every other superheroine. He knew that rubbing her pussy like this would arouse her body. He wanted to make sure she was wet before he entered her, wanted her to not just feel violated by him but betrayed by her own body as well.

When he slid in and started fucking her he began to share impressions of what he intended. She saw that he did things to women, to superheroines. She got the impression he sculpted their bodies, changed them till they were nearly, but not quite, unrecognizable. But he didn’t give her an impression of what that meant.

Her mind was left to imagine the terrible things he was going to do to her and her body. Would he turn her into a monstrosity? Make her even uglier? Reshape her into some nightmare minion of twisted flesh and bones he’d use to attack her teammates?

The fear mixed with the horror of being violated by a villain for the first time, all stewing with how much her body was enjoying it. As her body built towards climax she realized cumming from the horrible things she was imagining would be a kind of self-violation far worse than him simply bending her over and fucking her from behind. But the more she feared it would happen the quicker it did.

She shuddered as she started to cum, her vaginal muscles clenching the villain’s cock so tight it pushed him over the edge. When she felt him cumming in her it only made her cum harder, increasing the shame she was feeling.

As soon as her orgasm ended she went limp, collapsing into uncontrollable sobs. She barely felt his softening cock pull out of her, was barely aware of his cum trickling out of her pussy and running down her thigh. She sobbed not because it was over, but because she knew this was just the beginning…


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