Vigilante Justice [FM] [Superhero] [Violence]

On the sixth floor of an old factory, a perfect hole cut out of a glass window came out, letting in a beam of moonlight. The dusty atmosphere long since abandoned, a silky smooth figure slipped through with the grace of a cat burglar. Dust coated the atmosphere. The city lights looked far away through the new porthole of an old window, and inside the shadows overwhelmed the light.

Black, custom boots walked along a steel bar that served as a rafter. It was hanging a steel cable that served as a lift for an oversized cauldron. Nimble gloves fingers ran along the steel bar. Metal shavings, no gunpowder. Beneath the hanging vat, there were around six people walking around. Electric eyes illuminated the dark. Some were carrying rifles. Some were moving boxes into vans parked inside the factory floor.

The people below couldn’t hear the person above. The person above watched them with 4x zoom, poised like a monkey on the steel bars above. The thug that she had almost drowned in the bay had told her that this was the whole base of operations. From the look of the dusty atmosphere and untouched ruin, this was just a meeting point. The figure wrapped fingers and legs to slide down the cable. Quietly.

The people below weren’t speaking much. They had a whole white panel van loaded with wooden boxes. You’d have to feel sorry for a cop that pulled them over that day. The second van was halfway done. It was time to put an end to it or they would be gone. She slipped her fingers over the lip of the cauldron she had been hiding in.

The first rule of multi-person combat is to not be overwhelmed. This could take many forms, rather than just being outnumbered. As the black-shrouded figure landed on the old wooden floors, all eight of the present members of a local crime syndicate turned to look.

“Holy fuck, it’s Night Mask!” One of the participants yelled, as he pulled the rifle from his shoulder. The key in combating overwhelming odds is to at least level the playing field. The young woman, dressed head to toe in matte black armored clothing, chose this man to start tipping the scales in her favor.

She sprung herself up at him, and brought the long rifle across his windpipe as he held it up to keep her back. The weight of her whole body and gear was enough. She rolled forward and ran for one of the vans as a hail of bullets followed with her.

The Night Mask pulled a thin cylinder from her person, and flung it over the back of the van as they stopped shooting.

You have to be a little crazy to do this kind of work.

The soft-nervous gas was fast enough to sweep through the room, but not enough to get into the air-conditioning of the vans. They fired up together before the gas even hit the ground. Peeling out, they broke open the bay doors and tore off with loud squealing into the night.

“Fuck!” The vigilante said out loud. The five unconscious thugs would be here for a while. Stepping over them, she took off out of the factory, but the cars were gone. Back home on the workbench was an unfinished sticky-tracker that she wished she had. Lost in her own thought, the young woman didn’t notice someone had managed to shake the gas off, or didn’t get hit as hard after the doors opened.

He tackled her on the midsection, throwing her face into the concrete street. The helmet absorbed the brain damage, but she could already feel the impact bruise on her nose. Not cool.

“Fuck you!” The guy said, and before she could turn around underneath him and give him some voltage, he struck her on the back of the head with an iron pipe. The terror of organized crime hit the ground and stopped moving.

Everything was dark.

It had been about four hours, but as far as she knew, it was still half past one in the morning. Her head hurt like hell, and when she opened her eyes, she knew why. Kailyn Shelten was hanging by her ankles from an iron bar in a small room. The Night Mask was laying tossed in the corner. Now, the 21 year old Ivy graduate was stark naked and in an unknown location.

She struggled in vain, pulling herself up to look at the bar despite bound by restraints. No way she could just break the iron chain and padlock keeping her there. Kailyn threw herself back down, hoping she wouldn’t have an aneurism.

After another twenty minutes or so, the rusty double doors opened and five different men walked in. They shut the door behind them.

“So you are the terrible Night Mask, huh?” The man said with a thick, Russian driven accent. “You killed many good people.”

“Fuck you.” The girl said. Her short brown hair hung in pieces just beneath her head. To them, it was Venus inverted. Kailyn Shelten was fair, with not much curve, and to any passerby she’d just look like your everyday modern girl on the street. The score of muscles on her arms, legs, and midsection were a little more than average, but it wasn’t out of line. Just enough to protect her from some damage. The lead laughed.

He hit her. The lead man leaned back his leg and smacked her with his heavy and wet boot, right in the face. She whipped back as far as the chain would let her body, and hung in silence as blood dripped onto the grated floor.

So this is where they killed people, huh? Kailyn took a moment to look at them. Two were armed, shotguns this time, but three looked totally unarmed. They thought they’d have her.

Kailyn let out a slow sigh, letting her chest rise and fall as she controlled her breathing. She could feel them watching her with leering eyes.

“Fucks you, bitch.” The kicker said, slapping her body like a hanging side of a cow. “I fucks you tomorrow, and days after. But tonight, we take apart maszk.”

He motioned to the Night Mask. Without it, Kailyn was just Kailyn. The Mask had been the greatest thing she had ever made, and the idea of it being poked at with borscht covered fingers just upset her. She made a vow to kill this man in an hour.

“Okay, okay. You got me.” She said to them, spreading her hands behind her back. “Listen, just let me-”

She was unable to finish as the man walked away and motioned to another to step up. This burly bald man honed back and struck Kailyn in the stomach as hard as he could. Feeling like her insides were exploding, she cried out in pain and reeled back again.

“Let you? Bitch you kill many good men.” The lead said, pacing around the room. “Bitch you let me, you let me. We make you pay for our brothers.”

The hard part was that he was right. By all means, they had enough history to torture her for hours on end. Not that it would happen.

“Go. Leave me.” He said, as the man was working his shoulder to hit Kailyn again.

“But Chenya, boss said execute her.” One of the eager shotgun holders said in Russian. Kailyn had passed her Russian course at the top, and really didn’t need it to begin with.

“Go!” He shouted back, and the four others left in a grudge. The door shut behind them.

The man paced around the naked woman.

“You can’t hang me like this forever. I’ll die.” She said pointedly. The smell of blood was overwhelming as it had managed to get in her nose.

“Fuck you bitch. I kill you before you die.” He said, obviously very angry. In her line of work, unfortunate accidents happened, and a lot of people lost someone along the way. Kailyn, the Night Mask, tried to let criminals rot for their time, but if it were her or overwhelming odds, it was usually her.

“Listen, I’m sorry. Just take it out on me and let it go, okay?” She said in a put on sad voice. His temper worsened and she knew what was coming. It was hard to brace yourself against a flat boot kicking you in the back. What had been punched in was now getting struck in the back.

The stretch did feel okay. Kailyn laughed and thought she needed an inverted table.

“What?! What is szo funny bitch!?” He screamed, and kicked her again.

Kailyn didn’t answer. Instead, in his rage, he pulled his keys and unlocked the padlock. The chains were still locked to her restraints, and her face and shoulders met the wet floor with the rest of her body falling suit. Uncomfortable day.

She knew what was coming next. The man sat on her thighs, and she could feel his bare skin. This was as close as she got to love, as beating the shit out of criminals had managed to absorb Kailyn Shelten’s entire life. The lead man who had been hitting and yelling at her was a slave to his instinct. She didn’t mind, as soon as he moved to re-shackle her, Kailyn was going to choke him to death.

In the meantime, she felt him rub the head up and down on her. She had a nice, smooth pussy, and with a little trim, it felt like heaven to the Russian gangster who lived for moments like this. As he pushed his cock in, Kailyn was already wet and warm. She felt him drive, and was fairly surprised. He was certainly thicker, even if it wasn’t too long. She let out a sensual moan.

“Yeh? You laik Rrussian cock, bitch?” He said arrogantly. Kailyn didn’t really care. If you didn’t take time to enjoy yourself, you’d get tired of the hero work eventually. He started pounding her as hard as he could, his dark and weathered thighs rippling her tight and pale cheeks. Kailyn bucked up against him, trying to get him deeper as he split her apart.

His dick was rubbing her all the right ways, and she was working up body heat even against the cold and wet ground. The man had to slow down and was giving her a nice steady pump that built up tension in her heart. She liked being fucked, and was wanting even more. She was confident in her ability to take five men and kill them after.

Now, the man grabbed her hips and was only relentlessly fucking her. She had killed his brother, and beating her with his plump cock was making him feel much better.

Kailyn was steadily groaning before she had a clenching and soaking orgasm on his dick. She twisted and gasped, her stuck hands grasping for nothing behind her. The Russian could feel her soaking up his crotch and he warbled, shortening his breath before slamming what he had all the way inside her.

Kailyn was still and felt the sweet sensation of his cock pulsing. His warm seed was all that was left behind as he pulled out and struggled to stand up. Leaving the bound girl on the floor he dressed himself, and pulled out the key. To hang her upright, it had to be hands up.

Lost in his soft thoughts, he unlocked her hands from behind her back.

The key in combating overwhelming odds is to level the playing field. Without the Night Mask, Kailyn was just Kailyn. But Kailyn had made the Night Mask as an extension of who she was. The key moment is when she was able to (finally) get her arms in front of her and spring to a push-up position. As soon as she swiftly moved, Chenya Petroroy knew his life was over because of his dumb mistake.

He was right, as she sprung up and hit him in the mouth with her shoulder, which had been thankfully left mostly unharmed.

Kailyn scrambled to her feet before sweeping his to the floor. She got her hands around his neck, and using the iron chain, secured his now blood-coated windpipe closed. The man looked at her like an angel he had loved for a moment, and Kailyn looked down with idle indifference.

As the life left his eyes, she got up and threw down the chain. Fun for a minute, and then back to work. It was beginning to feel like the story of her life.

Not missing a beat, she put on her outfit and then the Night Mask. It told her where she was, having been moved to somewhere on the City Docks, and she had her computer auto-dial the police.

The Night Mask cut a hole out of a paper-covered window and stepped out into the fire escape. The sun was rising, and she took a breath of fresh air from the ocean. Quaint, but no time to stall.

She secured every door with a bar or a latch, and sealed every window with instant liquid reinforcement. The computer told her there were at least thirty people inside. She couldn’t have taken them all, naked or masked. Climbing to the roof, the Night Mask, Kailyn Shelten, dropped six vials of soft-nerve gas through a skylight to the ground below. The key is to always tip the scales in your favor.

The base of operations, her former graveyard, was cleaned out over two hours by the police and HAZMAT cleanup as she watched from the Catholic church across the street. As the day sun took hold, the Night Mask left, with more work to be done.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/fqpvfl/vigilante_justice_fm_superhero_violence