The Adventures of Psyche Ch. 01

Psyche gasped for air. Monstrously large hands gripped her throat. She searched for an escape from Hyde's death grip.

The beastly villain had her on her back over the edge of the skyscraper. "Why do the bad guys always pick tall buildings to fight on," she wondered as her long copper hair fluttered in the warm night air.

His fetid breath sickened her. "Tonight you die, Psyche. It's about time."

"All talk and no action," she thought. "Just like the rest of the men in my life." She would have sighed if she had any air left. "Time to end this party."

The beautiful heroine kicked up as hard as she could. Her studded leather knee-high boot caught her attacker between his legs. He grunted and his face contorted in pain. She kicked again, decidedly smashing the brute's balls.

"Good lord," she said to herself. "He's got huge nuts!"

Hyde's eyes bulged. He gasped and released his grip before sinking to his knees. He clutched at his aching testicles.

"And they never think to wear protection," Psyche yelled in the confused beast-man's face.

She stood and rubbed her tender throat. "I'm tired of being your blow up doll!" She jerked her gloved fist back to deliver the knock-out blow.

Hyde stretched out his hand and firmly clutched Psyche's left breast. She screamed with agonizing pain as electricity arced through her chest from his grip.

Hyde laughed, spittle flying into his victim's face. "Never underestimate your enemy Psyche." His long, slimy tongue slithered across her crimson lips.

She managed to fight the pain long enough to spit in his face.

"Bah," Hyde bellowed. He jerked his hand away, ripping away the left side of Psyche's black leather corset baring her breast.

"Oh great," she yelled through the agony. "Another titty shot for the nightly news."

Hyde laughed. "Nice. How 'bout a lap dance," he said, pulling a massive hard cock from his pants.

Psyche's blue eyes flared with fury. "I'm NOT a stripper any more," she raged inside.

She spun and kicked, her leather boot connecting with the brute's jaw. Bones crunched. He bellowed in pain. Still spinning, she focused her mind and a shimmering mist manifested in the shape of a dagger in her hand She plunged the weapon into Hyde's chest.

When the blade sank into his flesh the psychic energy transformed into radiating tentacles of ice. Hyde froze in place, his rage flash-frozen in cryostasis.

Psyche stepped back and exhaled slowly. The psychic dagger disappeared as she cleared her mind.

She slowly took stock of her condition. Her leather corset was torn, exposing her sore breast. Both black stockings were beyond saving and a few of the garter straps were torn off.

"Well at least I still have my panties on this time." She adjusted the cheeky black panties back into their proper place. She looked around for her black long coat, but as usual it was missing.

She took a step toward her adversary. Hyde was completely frozen in place, his hand still holding his gargantuan member out to her.

"I don't think it would even fit!. No wonder he goes into rampages." She looked to be sure no reporters had shown up yet then lightly tapped the tip of Hyde's frozen cock.

"That is a big cocksicle," she giggled.

**** Camera flashes illuminating the night as the photographers sought the sexiest picture of the famed heroine. Psyche stood before several TV cameras finishing the obligatory interview. She kept her right hand across her sore breast.

"Congratulations on your latest victory, Psyche. We can't wait until you rid the city of crime." The reporter held out his hand in gratitude. She shook his hand and immediately regretted it when the cameras began franticly clicking away as she exposed herself.

Too late for modesty she waved and smiled at the media. Her black long coat fluttered from the sky to land before her feet.

"Yes, of course, now it shows up," she muttered to herself. She grabbed up the coat and slipped into its comfortable embrace, pulling it around herself and hiding her partial nudity.

"Well, time for me to go." She pushed a tiny button on her leather glove. A roar in the heavens announced the arrival of her hoverbike. She straddled the big machine and sighed with pleasure when she felt the familiar throb between her legs.

"Hello, Old Faithful," she whispered to her hoverbike as she twisted the throttle. The bike responded with a thunderous roar that made her loins tingle. "Those fights always get my juices flowing," she thought. "But you never let me down, baby.". She patted the throbbing machine with affection as she rose up into the night sky grinding her hips into the thrumming leather seat with a contented sigh.

*** Denise punched the remote control, turning off the television. "Why don't those vultures ever show Wonder Woman's titties on the news," she fumed.

"She has better lawyers," Frank, the faithful butler replied dryly as he massaged the fragrant herbal ointment into her bruised and swollen breast.

His fingers flowed expertly across her breast and around her erect nipple. He rolled the rose red nub between his fingers, causing the heroine to bite her lip in pleasure.

"Maybe I should see about hiring a lawyer someday then," she murmured. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his hands slowly caressing away the pain from the fight.

She rolled her sleek nude body over on the cot. Frank's hands slid across her body. "I think you enjoy your job too much, Frank."

He slid his hands across her firm, perfectly formed bottom. "It's a vulgar job, madam. But someone has to do it." He slid his fingers along her bottom, down between her legs.

Denise gasped and parted her legs, hoping he would finally enter her and bring her some real satisfaction.

Instead he traced the outer edges of her glistening lips and began stroking away the aches from her legs leaving the ache in her loins unfulfilled.

*** Denise slapped the alarm clock, crushing the plastic time piece beneath her powerful hand. She yawned and stretched.

She felt much better with almost no pain. She peeked down the front of her blue and white pajamas top. Her breast showed no sign of bruising or swelling.

"Thank goodness," she muttered. "Kind of hard being a lingerie model with bruises and swollen titties."

She padded barefoot and in her PJs down stairs. She grabbed the newspaper from the sofa on her way to the kitchen.

She settled cross-legged into a wooden chair at the breakfast table. Frank frowned at her as he sat her breakfast before her.

"What now," she asked with exasperation.

Frank hovered over her, his short hair and beard were starting to show silver. He looked very much the father figure to the beautiful young woman nibbling her toast. "A proper lady does not sit cross-legged in her chair."

"Well, I don't have a reputation as a lady, now, do I."

"Indeed," he huffed. "Nor does a lady nibble her toast like a mouse."

Denise smiled and nibbled furiously at her breakfast. Frank tossed up his hands in resignation.

"Delicious breakfast this morning, Monica." She waved at the pretty new cook. "How is your first day going?"

The young blonde girl blushed. "Thank you, Madam."

"Oh, please, call me Denise," she muttered around a mouthful of eggs.

"I freaking well give up," Frank grumbled as he stormed out of the kitchen.

The girls laughed. "Well, thank you Denise. The day has gone well so far. Mister Frank will be showing me my duties today. I'm so excited!"

Denise laughed and flipped open the Tribune to page three. There was a picture of the beautiful, masked heroine, Psyche, waving and smiling at the camera, her left breast naked to the world.

"She's so brave and beautiful," Monica commented over Denise's shoulder. "And she has gorgeous tits!"

Denise smiled and sat up straight, shoulders back and pajama clad breasts thrust forward. She mentally thanked the pretty, young cook.

*** "He'll be here any moment now for your lunch date," Frank grumbled, picking the discarded dresses up from the floor.

Denise sat on the edge of the bed in her underwear trying to decide which dress to wear. "It's not a date. I made sure Marvin understood this was not a date."

"Yes, of course, Madam," he replied dryly.

A few minutes later Frank opened to front door for Marvin, looking as handsome as his scrawny frame could, holding a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. "Your date is here, Madam."

Denise squinted her eyes at the butler and made an effort to not hurt him too bad.

Frank felt little pricks if discomfort all through his body. He smiled at his employer despite her minor punishment. "Sometimes, you just have to tempt the devil."

*** They sat at a little open air café in downtown. Denise sipped at the French Onion soup. The roses laid on the table next to her.

"I told him just friends!" Denise growled to herself. "I made it very clear I did not want to date him." She pulled her hand away as Marvin tried to casually lay his hand upon hers.

"Marvin, sweetie, didn't I say this was not a date." She narrowed her eyes and then reconsidered hurting him.

"You did. But I thought if you just got to know me better on a date you would have to say yes."

"Yes to what?" She regretted asking even before she asked.

"Why, marrying me, of course," Marvin exclaimed, joy spreading across his gaunt face.

Denise spat her soup into the bowl. "Marry you," she exclaimed in shock.

"It sounds even more wonderful when you say it," Marvin beamed and took Denise's hand in his.

"No, Marvin. I can't. You don't want me anyway." She pulled her hand away again. "You are a thirty year old Mormon virgin." She shook her head, her long copper hair framed her face like a wild, fiery halo. "I'm not Mormon and certainly no virgin!"

"I forgive you. God forgives you! Marry me, Denise. We'll have six or seven children together. Imagine them scampering around calling you Mommy and me Daddy," his eyes glazed over as he imagined it.

Denise recoiled in terror, jumped from her seat and ran to the curb. She hailed a cab and climbed in before Marvin arrived at her side.

"That was really good soup," she thought.

*** Denise ran up the front steps and threw open the doors. She stood there in the doorway and tried to compose herself. She ran her hands across her short grey skirt to straighten it, then adjusted the waistline of her white blouse, tugging it into place. "I need a big glass of ice water and to forget he ever asked."

She strode purposefully across the living room towards the kitchen. She paused when she noticed something unusual.

A men's dress shirt laid crumpled on the couch next to something else. She picked it up. It was a simple white apron. She looked around.

On the floor by the kitchen door laid a pair of pants, a little grey-blue dress and what appeared to be a little lacy bra.

Then she heard voices from the kitchen. A young woman moaned in pleasure. Denise recognized that sound immediately, a sound she had not made herself in far too long a time.

She heard Frank's voice. "Ahh, yeah, you feel so nice." The girl moaned in response.

Denise laughed to herself. "Frank, you dirty old man, you are so busted." She pushed the kitchen door open a crack.

Monica sat naked on the breakfast table, her legs wrapped around Frank's waist as he thrust himself into her.

"That's right where I sat for breakfast," Denise muttered.

"Oh, god yes! Harder," Monica grunted, red faced. Her small breasts bounced in rhythm to Frank's deep hard strokes.

Denise opened the door and walked casually past the copulating couple to the refrigerator.

"You're home from your date earlier than I expected," Frank said coolly without changing his rhythm.

Denise filled a glass with water from the dispenser. Then she leaned on the counter to watch the show. "He asked me to marry him." She tried to ignore the squishy sounds and the sudden longing she felt in her own loins.

"Oh, god! I'm gonna come. Make me come," Monica screamed. She sat up and wrapped her arms around Frank's shoulders, her nails leaving long bloody trails down his back.

Frank braced his feet and pumped hard into the young woman. "Did you say yes," he asked.

Monica buried her face into Frank's shoulder and cried. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" She bit her lover's shoulder drawing more blood.

"Of course not," Denise exclaimed in shock. "I'm going to need my toys now," she thought and hoped no one noticed her hand wandering below her skirt to slowly rub her damp panties.

Frank picked Monica up from the table and grunted and growled as he emptied himself into the young woman. "Why not?"

Monica slowly became aware of her surroundings and realized Denise was watching. She quickly covered herself as Frank sat her back down on the table. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" she exclaimed in concern looking at Denise. "Oh my god," she purred at Frank and kissed him as he withdrew from her.

"I can't marry him! He's still a virgin at thirty! And he's religious," she shuddered. She turned to Monica who was sliding off the table. "Is this part of your duties?"

The girl dashed naked across the kitchen, grabbed a towel and went back to wipe up the breakfast table. "Oh, yes Madam. I think I will like this job," she smiled happily.

"You could use some faith," Frank said turning to face Denise.

"I don't need," she stopped mid-sentence to throw her hand up to hide her view of his member. "Damn," she muttered, lowering her hand, her eyes wide in amazement. "Who would have thought dear old Frank was hung," she thought.

"You know, you're old enough to be her father," she chastised still looking at his privates

"Yes, isn't it wonderful," he smiled and swatted Monica's naked bottom.

"Yeah, it is," she replied silently. "You owe me a new breakfast table," said, pointing to where Monica was cleaning the table.

"Does that mean I have to buy you a new couch and bed?"

Denise stood there in shock. "You've done it in my bed?!"

"Not yet," he replied dryly.

Denise walked out and up the stairs to her room. "I need my toys!" she thought.