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His Naughty Little Superhero by Emily Tilton – Extended Preview

Susan had never imagined she could feel so mortified. All the power she had gained in the last few moments of desperate masturbation went into keeping the redness from her cheeks, but that paranormal energy, expended so heedlessly, was gone in less than a second and the heat came crashing back into her face.

“I…” she said, in a voice so weak she thought Nightprince might just deny her application for superhero-hood right then and simply drop her off the side of the building to get rid of her.

“Pull up your pants, Susan,” Bob said in a stern voice that made her ache even more down there than she had at that humiliating moment when he had asked if she needed to go to the bathroom. He had asked as if he were actually saying do you need to go potty, and that had been after he had said he would be in charge of her.

Words had never affected her this way: she didn’t know what exactly it had to do with her Zaxian origin, because no Zaxian female had ever been raised in a conservative family in the American Midwest. Susan nevertheless felt certain that something in the contrast between the two, between the Zaxian sexual need and her mother’s warnings about her private parts, had made her volcanic arousal take a form according to which handsome, older Nightprince, in his black suit, could say in charge of you, and her pussy would flow with need into her panties in a way she had never experienced before.

She felt her face crumple into a mask of woe as she obeyed him now, her pussy sending even more wetness into her already damp underwear as she buttoned up her jeans.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered, and she couldn’t even figure out whether to call him Bob, or Nightprince, or something else.

A moment of stillness ensued. She didn’t dare look at him, but she felt desperate to know what kind of expression he had on his face—whether she had disgusted him, or… something else.

“You will say,” Bob said very slowly, “I’m sorry, sir, from now on.”

She did lift her eyes from the sink in front of her, then, and turn them to his face, her lips parting in helpless surprise and, down below, her pussy gushing with arousal.

“What?” Susan’s voice sounded in her ears as less than a whisper. She wondered if Bob could even hear it.

“You heard me, little girl.”

“Oh, no…” If the what had been less than a whisper, the oh, no was barely even audible. She couldn’t tell, despite knowing that her Zaxian memory recorded everything that happened to her with absolute accuracy, whether she had heard wrong, because if Bob had indeed called her little girl… Well, she couldn’t take it, could she? No Zaxian female could be called little girl and let the man who said it live.

But the ache between her legs had grown so great at the tone in his voice, at the thought of calling him sir, at the fact of his calling her little girl, that she clenched, down there, she couldn’t hold down a little whimper of need, and her right hand started to move to the front of her buttoned-up jeans.

“Don’t you dare, Susan,” Bob said. “Don’t you dare touch your pussy, even on top of your pants.”

She gave a wordless, humiliating little cry at this instruction. The Zaxian female in her mind yelled a fierce protest in the ancient Zaxian language, involving the intention to turn Bob’s entrails into unrecognizable bird food. The Midwestern girl whispered, “Yes, sir.”

“Now tell me something,” Nightprince said. “And if you tell me honestly—and remember that’s one of my powers—I will make sure the rest of the council doesn’t hear about this until and unless you want them to.”

Susan rolled her fists into tight little balls at her sides. It took every bit of her will to keep from thrusting one of them down her pants, because the need just kept increasing with the way Bob spoke to her, and the atavistic alien part of her psyche didn’t see the need for modesty the way the Midwestern part did.

“What?” she panted, turning her eyes up to Bob’s dark gaze. Wow, they really weren’t messing around when they gave you your super name, were they, Bob? “Tell you what?”

“Do your powers come from your pussy?”

Susan bit her lip, as a whimpering sound came from her throat. She nodded, her face as hot as the sun. She dropped her eyes to Bob’s black boots. They looked like army boots, which shouldn’t have worked with his skintight suit and flowing cape, but somehow did.

Prince. Master. Sir.

Her inner He’Vopra’Mertuq screamed at her in Zaxian wrath.

You really won’t like the other thing I think when I look at him, Susan Corday of Plentiful Falls, Iowa replied, cowering into the corner of a mind that suddenly seemed to have a great deal too much room for debate in it.

“I take it you’re a virgin, then, or we’d already know about you.”

Still looking at the boots, Susan nodded miserably. The Zaxian female side came to her rescue, then, at least a little bit, for He’Vopra’Mertuq had something to say. She lifted her eyes to look into Nightprince’s steady examination of her face and her body, those eyes that seemed to take in all of her. All. Of. Me. Oh, please…

“I can control my powers, if I redraw my energy. I have the DNA memory necessary to give me my ancestral people’s skills.”

Bob’s left eyebrow went up. “I know you believe that, Susan,” he said, “but are you sure? I mean, at a guess, you would know how to use your powers, if you were all… what did you say? Zarxian? Zaxian? But you’re not, are you?”

“But—” The protest came from He’Vopra’Mertuq, but then her Zaxian intelligence kicked in, and all of her realized, to Susan’s mortification, that Bob was right. “I am a full-blooded Zaxian,” she finally finished.

“Again,” Nightprince replied, “I know you’re telling the truth, but that’s also not what I meant.” He looked steadily at her for a moment. “Alright, there’s a little danger here, but you and I both need to know.”

Without further warning, Bob stepped forward and put his left hand around the back of Susan’s neck and his right hand between her legs, giving a squeeze there that sent terrible pleasure crashing through her whole thoroughly-Zaxian-on-the-inside body.

The walls started to shake. Something—a device on Nightprince’s wrist, maybe—beeped an alarm. An instant later, Tigerwoman’s voice came out of whatever the thing was.

“You okay in there, Bob?”

Nightprince held Susan’s pussy for one more second, as the shaking grew more intense. She knew she—her Zaxian body and its paranormal essence—was doing it: the He’Vopra’Mertuq part of her could feel the energy flowing into her power core and then flowing out, uncontrollable despite everything her DNA memory told her should be true of her abilities. She could almost see it, in the air of the bathroom around her, and somehow she knew that if the energy flow did fall within the range of her vision, it would look purple. The not-purple field penetrated the iron rebar reinforcing the concrete of the CPE building’s construction and set up a destructive harmonic resonance that neither Susan nor He’Vopra’Mertuq could control.

All because Bob held her like that, dominated her like that. His hands on Susan’s body seemed to tell her that despite her alien origin she was really a naughty little girl whose naughty pussy needed naughty things done to it. She cried out as the power coming from his grip between her thighs pooled in her core despite the uncontrolled outflow, enough to allow the Zaxian part of her to use her abilities again at last.

It all stopped, because Bob had ended up slammed against the door and his hand was no longer anywhere near the place where she absolutely needed it, and all her power had gone again.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” Susan said, rushing over to him. “Are you okay?”

“Bob?” said Nightprince’s wrist.

“Fine, Sally,” Bob said, his voice coming out in the form of a grunt. “We’re just getting to know each other in here.” As he spoke to the supers outside, he looked intently into Susan’s eyes, panting a little from the way she had, obviously, knocked the wind out of him.

“You see what I mean?” he asked, after a moment in which she rediscovered the desperate ache between her thighs, and had to push down the terrible urge to beg him to put his hand back there, and to keep going until the building fell down around them.

Susan nodded, feeling her brow wrinkle in sorrow and confusion. She dropped her eyes once again to Nightprince’s black boots.

“Hey,” he said, as if seeing how wretched she felt, to be screwing this up so royally, “don’t worry. We’ll work it out. You just may have come to the right guy to help, princess.”

Susan’s heart skipped a beat. Had he really just called her princess?

Had she—her body, her mind, her soul, even—just answered him, despite her proud Zaxian origin, Yes? The DNA memories, responding to the equivalent of flashing red lights and clanging alarm bells issued a terrible warning.

You must not tell him.

“Who are you calling princess?” Susan asked, reaching for a scornful tone and almost getting there.

Bob’s head drew back, and a puzzled expression appeared on his face. He turned his chin this way and that, as if surveying her and taking her measure. For a moment, he seemed to consider whether to approach this refusal of his help with firmness or with yielding. Susan blushed again, but she felt sure at least that he could take the redness in her cheeks for defiant anger just as well as he could take it for shame at the knowledge that when Nightprince had called her princess, Ultragirl had wickedly, wantonly dampened her panties.

“You,” Bob finally said. “But it doesn’t matter much to the CPE’s mission, I guess, whether that works for you or it doesn’t. I’m pretty sure, however you feel about me calling you little, that I know what needs to happen, though. You need discipline, Susan, or Ultragirl, or Hevohperawhatever, and I’m going to give it to you.”

Susan felt her eyes go wide. “He’… Vopra’… Mertuq,” she said slowly, as if talking to an idiot and getting all the way to scornful, now. “And what the fuck do you mean, discipline?” The Zaxian had control, now, and although discipline had fallen somewhere in the same range as princess, her DNA memory had been ready to cut her human response off at the pass.

“Discipline can mean a great many different things, He’Vopra’Mertuq,” Nightprince replied steadily, his Zaxian pronunciation remarkably improved. “In your case, however, it’s going to mean exactly what the Midwestern human part of you probably just thought of. I believe young women sometimes need to experience an old-fashioned approach to keeping their behavior appropriate and modest.”

Her human upbringing started to make her Zaxian heart beat very fast. How could Bob know how her mind had responded? How could he see that the idea made her tummy crawl in such a confusing way?

“Modest?” Susan asked, forcing a snort. “If you think I’m going to let you tell me how to be a proper young lady…”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Susan,” Bob said sharply. “I have my own beliefs where modesty and discipline are concerned, but I wouldn’t think of forcing them on you without your consent if you hadn’t almost destroyed this building. You need guidance, Ultragirl, and you need discipline and training. I am going to spank you over my knee, for playing with your pussy without my permission. We’re going to go to my quarters downstairs, and you’re going to take off your clothes and learn a lesson about how a supergirl should behave.”

For a long moment Bob didn’t know whether Susan would go quietly, or he would have to strip and spank her right here in the bathroom. Her blue eyes held the desperation of an adorable young animal—a puppy or a baby bunny, maybe—cornered by a wolf, but at the same time something even more attractive, and downright fascinating, seemed to lie behind the eyes. Maybe her gaze conveyed those DNA memories Susan had referred to earlier, or maybe—and Bob thought this more likely, and more interesting—it showed him the melding of her alien genetic core with the strength of character she clearly had from an old-fashioned Midwestern upbringing. Prairie modesty, after all, by no means ruled out an iron will, and Bob’s favorite kind of submissive little girl to dominate was the kind who felt the need to fight against her submissive impulses.

“I…” Susan started, but her voice trailed away. This time, the pause seemed to display Ultragirl nearly giving in to her yearning to yield herself to his guidance. Then in a flash the iron returned, and took over. “That’s ridiculous,” she said in a flinty voice. “But I’ll admit that it’s probably better we discuss it in your office.”

“Discuss it, yes, Susan,” he replied. “I never spank a girl unless she understands why.”

The blue eyes narrowed, but Ultragirl said nothing. Bob regarded her intently for another few seconds, until her face began to show a tinge of puzzlement and alarm, and then he turned and opened the bathroom door. Tigerwoman and Clearstream were standing a few feet away, their limbs (in Clearstream’s case, this meant the barest outline of his arms and legs) held in the casually ready stance of a superhero in the presence of possible super-villainy.

“We’re headed down to my office,” Bob told his colleagues. “Situation is under control.”

“What’s the issue?” Sally asked, a suspicious look forming on her face.

Susan answered smoothly, somewhat to Bob’s surprise. “I’m still getting used to my energy flow,” she said, as if she were talking about a tachometer reading on a sports car.

“Got it,” Clearstream said, making himself visible again. He turned to Bob. “See you later for the all-hands?”

Bob nodded. “Yeah. I’ll present Susan to the council. Keep an eye on what Vic and Charlatan are up to in the meantime, and let me know if there’s a problem?”

He explained further to Susan as he led her to the elevator. “The all-hands is a meeting the CPE has every Tuesday, where every super who isn’t on assignment shows up to go over the threat report. Virtueman—we call him Vic—should have wrapped up Charlatan for the moment by then, but there’s always a chance that he’ll need help.”

“For the moment?” Susan asked curiously. “Why can’t you supers ever get rid of your enemies for good?”

Bob chuckled. “Just not the way super-villainy works. Vic will probably bring Charlatan in tonight and put him in our most secure holding cell, but of course he’ll find a way to break out before morning.”

“But they’re trying to kill people! Can’t you kill them?”

“Of course not,” Bob said, frowning. They exited the elevator and he led her down the corridor toward his office door. “The CPE stands for justice, not murder. Seems like we’ll have to discuss more than your energy flow as we move forward, Susan.”

They had reached his door, and as he opened it for her he saw that her blush had returned. Ultragirl clearly didn’t like to be told she had a lot to learn. All the more reason to provide some old-fashioned discipline, in Nightprince’s experienced opinion.

She stopped before she went through the door, coming to a halt only six inches from him, since his office door opened inward. Her eyes narrowed in the expression Bob had come to associate with her Zaxian side. The thought of turning her over his knee and teaching her a lesson for the apparently inherently bratty essence of her alien heritage made his cock swell against his thigh; Nightprince had a serious thing for Ultragirl, he realized with an inward sigh. Very complicated.

“Go on, princess,” he said in his most princely tone. “Step inside and stand in the center of the floor, please.”

The blue eyes widened for just a fraction of a second, and then narrowed even further.

“Zaxian warriors don’t respond well to being ordered around,” Susan said icily. “And let me just tell you again that your… suggestion… with regard to… I believe you said, punishing me? That won’t be happening.”

Bob knew when he needed to rise to an occasion and provide firm-handed guidance. He also knew that this volatile, powerful girl could well do some damage if he let her replenish her energy without also helping her control it. What he decided he had to do had a good deal of risk to it, but he couldn’t see any other way.

He reached his right arm around Ultragirl’s waist and hauled her off the floor.

“What are you doing?” Susan demanded, so startled that she didn’t even begin to struggle for a full second.

“I don’t have any doubt right now that you understand why I’m about to put you over my knee and bare your bottom, princess. You pose a danger, and your behavior is reckless, and I happen to know a very good way to deal with that, when a girl like you is the problem. We’ll talk more after I punish you, but a sound spanking is exactly what you need.”

Then she did start to struggle, but she had only the strength of any other petite eighteen-year-old. Bob carried her through the door and closed and locked it behind them with his left hand, and then he carried her to the high-backed wooden chair in front of his desk. As she writhed against his restraining arm he thought he could feel her little body respond to the strength in his big one. Bob didn’t have super strength, but the tensing in Susan’s frame told him he didn’t need it to make her feel little, just as he wanted to do—at least when she didn’t have her alien paranormal powers available.

“You had better hope,” she said in a voice full of Zaxian warrior fury as he sat in the chair and started to put her over his right knee, “I never get my powers back.”

Bob sighed inwardly. He had hoped he might be able to awaken her need for this more quickly.

“That’s a risk I need to take, Susan,” he said very seriously. He had more to tell her on the subject, but he waited until he could manhandle her into exactly the position he knew would best suit the occasion: held down by his left arm securely around her waist, so tightly that she could flail all she wanted without getting in the way of the firm hand he would soon bring down on her bare, upturned bottom, her legs pinioned under his right thigh. Bob finished arranging Ultragirl that way as she continued to struggle, though she had almost exhausted even her conventional muscles now.

Then, feeling himself get even harder with the dominant freedom of the moment, he reached his right hand underneath her hips to find the button on her jeans.

“Oh, my God,” Susan hissed. “You’re not serious. Don’t you dare.” Her writhing grew more intense for a moment, and Bob waited patiently with his hand still underneath her, only an inch or two from the place where he knew her needs must now have reached a furious intensity.

When she had exhausted herself again, Bob said, “I’m completely serious, Susan. You are going to have a bare-bottom spanking, and whatever you can do about it afterward, there is nothing you can do about it now. Would you like to take your own jeans and panties down, or do I have to do it for you, this way?”

Her whole body shuddered, and he wondered if in that movement he could feel the success of his ploy—her Midwestern upbringing coming back to take hold of her. He thought he could discern that she had never been disciplined properly, growing up, despite the vague transmission of conservative values it seemed Susan had undergone. Nevertheless, the idea of old-fashioned over-the-knee discipline clearly did have a power for her that Bob could work with.

He moved his hand a little close to the center, stirring, he felt sure, the erotic needs that raged it seemed a good deal hotter in a Zaxian female even than in a healthy human eighteen-year-old. Another shudder racked her frame, and then Susan said, half-sobbing the words, “Please. I’ll… I’ll do it.”

Bob took his hand away immediately, though rather regretfully. Things had begun to become quite warm down there, even through Susan’s jeans. He released her at waist and knees, leaving her merely suspended over his knee and steadied with his left hand at her back and his right on her outer thigh.

For a moment he could feel the alien warrior almost returning: a tremor shook her that his night senses told him must be the bodily idea of jumping up and trying to run from him. Then, slowly, with a little whimper, she reached her right hand underneath her and unfastened the button on her jeans. Bob didn’t delay: he put his right hand inside her waistband, getting the sheer fabric of her panties in his fingers’ grasp and ignoring the little leap his cock gave at the wonderful contrast between that silkiness and the very different silkiness of the creamy skin of Susan’s trim bottom. He yanked down jeans and panties all the way to her knees in a single motion, as she gave a startled cry at the swiftness of the action, and replaced both his left arm and his right leg in their restraining position. The sweet young backside of his brand new, virginal supergirl rose over his knee, held firmly in place, its round cheeks just plump enough to suggest her womanhood while still also intimating a little girl’s need for a firm hand to guide her to full adulthood.

“Wait!” Susan cried. “Please…”

But Bob had no intention of waiting. He meant her first spanking to last a good long while, if only to get Ultragirl used to being over his knee for old-fashioned bare-bottom discipline, but there would be plenty of time to pause, and to teach her about her young body, once she understood her position fully. He raised his big hand high and brought it down hard. She yelled, and tried to kick, but he did it again, and again, and again. Susan Corday had a spanking coming, and now she would get it—she needed to know that before anything else.

Her round little cheeks bounced under his hand as he disciplined her, and she screeched loudly at the pain of this first lesson in obedience from her new mentor. Her bottom quickly got very red, and Bob spread the spanking around, moving down her thighs, too, to turn her whole backside crimson as Ultragirl began to cry.

“Please… sir… Bob… it hurts so much…” Susan wailed.

“It’s supposed to hurt, princess,” Bob answered, still spanking hard and fast. “That’s how you learn. You’ll think twice about playing with your little pussy in the bathroom, now, won’t you? This doesn’t feel as nice as touching yourself down there, does it?”

“Oh, Gods,” Susan sobbed, her Zaxian religion perhaps changing her theistic outlook. “Ow… my bottom… please, stop…”

Bob heard in her voice then the yielding he always waited for when punishing a naughty girl. He did stop spanking her, and he put his hand on her bottom lightly, feeling his own heart beat fast because of the risk he knew he now had to take.

“Are you going to pull down your panties without permission anymore?” he asked.

“Ow! I have to go to the bathroom, don’t I?”

Bob smiled—he had asked the question that way for just this reason, to see how much spirit she had left in her. Her response pleased him greatly. He lifted his arm again and brought his hand down hard with another spank.

“Ow!” A moment before her struggles had died away, but now again she writhed in his grasp.

“You know what I mean, Susan,” he said sternly. “I have half a mind to tell you you’re not even allowed to do that without permission. In fact, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

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