The Rape of Mary Jane Watson

A/N: Thanks for help on the title, Lady R. Holmes. Now, everybody, I have a sequel in mind for this. Once I get six people to review (right now I have three) I'll post it. The sequel would have more of a story line, yes, but it would also be equally smutty (when unconfined by a rating, I tend do that). Just to be clear, as if you didn't get it the first time, I do not own any Marvel characters, though I would love to keep Otto on a leash by my bed. Thank you to all of you who reviewed.

Mary Jane fell to her hands and knees, coughing and hacking. She wanted to puke, but she couldn’t, despite the intensity of her stomach spasms. When she heard Flint moving for her, she expected him to stuff his cock down her throat, too. He didn’t, though. His fingers dug into her upper arm and hauled her to her feet, almost dislocating her shoulder. Without a word, he dragged her back into the outer room and strode to the closet. This time when he opened the doors she caught a glimpse of its contents. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as her eyes darted over the ropes, chains, and leather restraints. It was actually a walk in closet, and she could see other ominous shapes in its shadowy depths. The only two things she could recognize looked like some kind of cages. One was short and long, and the other looked like something from a medieval torture exhibit. She felt eyes on her and looked up to see the super-villain sneering down at her.

“Curious?” He asked darkly. She only shook her head and fought to pull away. His grip on her arm tightened. “Are you gonna cry?” When she shook her head again, his expression twisted even further, if that was at all possible. He faced the camera again. “She’s brave. Gotta give her that.” Flint ignored Max’s laughter as he sized up the teenager. Finally, he selected a few different lengths of barbed wire and a bar that could be suspended from the ceiling. “Now,” Flint smirked as he herded her back to the middle of the main room, “let’s see if we can make you cry, hm?”

That’s not going to be very hard, Mary Jane thought as she shrank away from him. “What are you going to do to me?” Her voice was tiny and rough due to the maltreatment of her throat. It hurt more to speak than it did to swallow. He didn’t say anything to her, though, just fixed those brutal eyes on her and let the wire fall to the floor. The bar and chains hit with an echoing clang that hurt her ears. His hands folded one of the wires in half as he took two steps toward her. He slipped the looped end over her head and tied a knot between her breasts. About three inches down he tied another knot, and a third knot about three inches below that. The barbs didn’t seem to bother his half sand hands, but they scratched her skin if she moved, so she just watched and quivered with apprehension. His fingers smoothed the kinks out of the wire as he walked around behind her and passed it between her legs.

“Don’t be afraid to tell us how much something hurts,” Flint whispered in her ear as he threaded the ends of the wire up through the loop around her neck. Blood appeared as the barbs scraped past her skin. He licked his lips, thinking of the metallic taste, but restrained himself for the time being. “Make sure you get her face on this one, Doc,” Flint grinned cruelly and pulled up on his end of the wire. The female yelled and arched her back. “Aw, does that hurt?” Flint pulled up even harder.

The more she struggled, the more the barbed wire twisted into her labia and burrowed between her ass cheeks. Her clit was on fire and not in a good way. Flint lifted the end of the wire until she was standing on her toes, tears streaming from her eyes. After what seemed like forever, the tension in the wire slackened, if only ever so slightly, and she was back on her feet. She could feel blood beading in the stinging punctures and her legs almost gave out under a rush of fear and pain.

“You can’t cry yet,” Flint laughed as he tied off the knot at the back of her neck. “I’m just getting warmed up.” He brought the wires under her arms on opposite sides of her body and slid them through the space between the first two knots. When the ends were pulled tight, it dragged the little metal thorns across her soft white skin and cinched up her breasts. Her pained gasp as the barbs once more cut into her most sensitive flesh made warmth began to grow in Flint’s lower regions. He crossed the ends behind her and did the same thing with the space between the second and third knots before tying it off between her hip bones. “Lay down on your stomach.”

Mary Jane gazed in horror at the blood spilling out of her and whimpered. It wouldn’t matter if she resisted him or not. Apparently he intended to hurt her no matter what she did. Unless it was all a matter of degree… She dropped to her knees first before hesitantly settling her weight onto her stomach, wincing as the metal resettled into her skin. Chains clinked as Flint lifted the bar and another length of barbed wire.

Flint put one foot on either side of her and dropped to his knees, resting most of his weight on one knee. “Put your arms out.”

“What are you going to do?” She whimpered.

“Put your arms out!” When she spread her arms out, Flint press the bar into her back and began ruthlessly binding her upper arm to it.

Mary Jane screamed and struggled but the more she struggled, the more skin ripped. Flint pulled her up by the back of the neck, crossed the wire between her breasts, and continued to bind her upper left arm to the bar. Using two smaller lengths of barbed wire, he bent her arms at the elbows and bound her wrists to the triangle of chain that could be attached to the ceiling. He picked up the last two pieces of barbed wire and took hold of her ankle. “Please stop,” she sobbed. “Please just stop…”

“Save some of those screams for when I fuck you in the shit hole, huh?” Flint smacked her on the rear and she yelped even louder than in the bathroom. He bent her right ankle down until it touched her upper thigh and began binding her calf to her thigh with more barbed wire. After repeating the process on her other leg, he grabbed the bar by it’s chain and hoisted her up. Stretching his arms, he attached the chain to one of the hooks.

“God, stop this!” She shrieked. “Please!” The thorns dug even deeper into her arms, slicing into her wrists and arms as her weight shifted. She grabbed the chains and pulled with her hands, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

Flint smirked and eyed her scratched, naked body. “The fun is only just beginning.
We can’t stop now.” He went back to the closet and returned carrying hooked chains. She stretched painfully to look back at him and whined. One of the hooks went under the wire where it crossed just below her shoulder blades. The other went under the second X, and the third and fourth hooked near her knees. Those all attached to the ceiling, and every time he lifted a new part of her body, she hissed in pain. He pulled two metal clothespins out of his pocket and held one up in each hand. “Ready to play?”

“Don’t let them hurt me,” she pleaded to the camera. “Oh, god, Peter, help…” She trailed off into sobs.

“Too late for that,” Flint chuckled, eyeing the blood. “So many things I could do to you, no time to do them all…” She sobbed again, shaking in her restraints. Something like a growl spliced with a purr rumbled in Flint’s throat as he squeezed the clothespins and positioned them over her nipples. “But I’ll do all I can.” He let them snap closed and her chest jolted under the torture. He circled around her, admiring the way her position arched her back and stuck out her breasts. Her legs were spread open, and there was nothing she could do to close them. If she was strong enough to, it wouldn’t be without hurting herself. Flint continued around to her other side and repositioned the wires to hold her labia open. She was bleeding, and he licked the crimson substance off his fingers before reaching into his pocket to produce a third clothespin. The teenager seemed to have given up on screaming for the time being. Her eyes, however, were squeezed tightly shut and she was biting her lip almost to the point of drawing still more blood. The super-villain cleared his throat.

There was nothing but fiery, searing pain all over now, especially on her front where her weight rested. Her knuckles were white and cold from straining to keep the pressure of the barbed wire off her stomach. When Flint readjusted the wire between her legs she shuddered but forced herself to bite back her anguish. Don’t give him the satisfaction. Don’t give him the satisfaction… The sound of him clearing his throat led her to hesitantly open her eyes. He held a third clothespin, and she found some part of her tortured brain working, trying to figure out…

“How old are you?”

The question seemed so odd to her, she couldn’t answer right away. Not only that, but she was in so much pain, she wasn’t even sure she could speak.

“I’ll only ask one more time,” Flint hissed.

Her eyes were on the small metal object in his hand. The part of her brain that was still working couldn’t seem to focus on anything but trying to figure that out. She opened her mouth but could only gasp like a fish out of water. “F-fif… agh…”

“Fifteen?” Flint tilted his head and eyed her again. A smile slithered across his face for the first time in a while that night. “Hm… I can work with that.” He reached between her legs again and let the small metal object take her clit in its jaws. She bucked in her bindings, the combined pain of this new element of torture and the tearing of the thorns eliciting another, weaker, sob. The stirring in his loins grew but he kept it down for the time being. “Aw, come on, bitch. What happened to all that ‘please don’t hurt me’ shit, huh?” He slapped her, jarring her in the wire, and earning another scream. “Close.” He buried a fist in her soft stomach, pulled back with his other fist, and repeated the process.

“No… no…” She coughed through her tears. The pain was building on her in layers. There was the dull, burning sensation from the tiny cuts all over her body, the ache from her wrenched back shoulders being force to support her weight, and now the fire on her three most sensitive points. The bruising impact of his fists barely registered through all of the other layers.

A sexual growl thundered low in Flint’s throat. “Oh, yes,” he corrected, reached into his pocket again, and extracted a little box of various sized needles. The session was all mapped out in his head. There was always room allowed for variations, of course. Her eyes widened and her body went rigid. “Aw, you’re not afraid of needles, are you?” He raddled the box and watched sweat begin to glisten on her brow. A lighter came out of his other pocket. “This will hurt you one fuck of a lot more than it will hurt me.” Flint passed the box to Max to hold, picked out a needle, and began heating it with the lighter. “Have you ever thought about piercing something besides your ears?”

Mary Jane squeaked and tried to shrink away. Her chest heaved as he moved closer and grabbed the clip on her left nipple. “Don’t… don’t…” She whimpered as he pulled on it and then screamed as her nipple stretched.

Flint chuckled darkly as he positioned the scalding hot needle. “Hold still.”

“Peter! Help!” She shrieked as the needle pricked her pink bud before trailing off into incoherent sobs as it penetrated. It quite literally seared its way through her skin and came out the other side. He left the needle in and selected another. Her heart thundered at the knowledge of what would come next. Oh, god, can’t somebody help me… Nausea gripped her stomach as the second needle was inserted in her other nipple. “Let me go… let me go…” The teenager sobbed.

“Sh…” Flint put a finger on her lips. “One more…”

One… more…? Realization slowly dawned and her heart stopped. Her body went numb except for the little sting in her feminine regions. “You… you can’t do that… can you?”

“I can do whatever I want, bitch,” Flint smirked sinisterly. “But go ahead and struggle. It makes it more interesting.” He selected a third needle and set about heating it with the lighter. “I have had bitches tell me this doesn’t hurt, but fuck those sick cunts, right? It’s more interesting when they scream.” Before he took off the clip, he twisted it to make her yelp. “Yeah, like that.” His hand carefully positioned the needle over her joy buzzer. She was shaking all over and he knew she’d jump when he touched the searing metal to such a sensitive region. When he did, she screamed and tried to jerk away, but he was prepared and followed her without breaking his concentration at all.

“Damn, she’s got a set of lungs on her,” Max giggled.

Then she just hung in the wires sobbing quietly, shivering as he pushed the needle under her clitoral hood. There was no way she could stop them. Peter wasn’t coming. That was all there was to it. Mary Jane knew she was going to die tonight, and it made her sick. When her sobs started coming harder, it was more because of these thoughts than the needle pushing relentlessly through her flesh.

Flint stood back to admire his work and think on what to do next. He was getting pretty fucking horny, but he still wanted to torture her a bit longer before going in for the final blow. The physical pain was clearly beginning to lose its effect on her, but she was still such an innocent little thing. It was time to move on to the humiliation round. He lifted her face and brushed her hair out of her face. “No hiding your shame behind your hair, slut.” Flint twisted her hair and tied it in a loose knot to keep it out of the way. “Let’s see that pretty whore’s face, hm?”

“Please don’t call me that,” she whimpered, turned her face away as much as she could without cutting it on the wires, and tried to shrink away from his fingers. His fingers stopped moving and seemed to press harder against her face. Her heart started to pound as she let her eyes met his icy brown ones.

“Max,” but Flint didn’t take his eyes off the teenage girl. “Keep her company. I’ll be right back.” He patted her cheek and smirked sardonically.

“Ooh, you’re gonna get it now, sugar tits,” Max giggled as Flint disappeared upstairs.

“Don’t let him hurt me,” she whimpered to Max. When he tilted his head and beamed psychotically, she implored Dr. Octopus. “Don’t let him hurt me!” The doctor’s stony silence was even worse than Max’s manic glee. “Then kill me,” she begged. “Please just kill me. I don’t want…” Her voice started hitching. “I don’t want…” Footsteps heralded the return of her dungeon master and she started sobbing helplessly again.

“Don’t want what?” Each of Flint’s words was punctuated by the thump of his feet on the stairs.

“I don’t…” She gasped. “I don’t want to live…”

“So suddenly? And after all that shit about sucking Max’s rod?” Flint grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. “You fucking liked that, you sick slut. You’d probably gladly suck up cum all day, wouldn’t you?”

“No…” Mary Jane whined. He let go and slapped her so hard she thought her head was going to explode before seizing her with the vice grip again.

“Only teenage sluts just stand there and let men take their clothing. And you liked Max’s attentions, too, didn’t you? You moaned and arched your back like a little whore.”

“No…”

Smack!

“Stop!”

Smack!

Finally, head reeling from the slaps, she fell silent. When she fell silent, he stopped hitting her. Just because she had gasped and moaned, it didn’t mean she hadn’t found Max touching her repulsive. She felt betrayed by her body. She hated her body. She hated having these three men standing around watching her naked body. Even more, though, she hated the man who was damaging her body and taking pleasure in every minute of it. Her eyes remained closed while she thought, and she hoped they’d think she’d fallen unconscious or something. Maybe if they thought that, they’d just finish raping her and kill her. She’d rather die than have this sadist’s dick in her ass, but she feared she didn’t have many options at this point. If she could only get the agony to just end… but he was trying to attack her on all fronts, now, wasn’t he?

Flint eyed the pale, limp figure. “Wake her up, Max,” he ordered distractedly, peeling the banana he’d brought down with him.

Before the meaning of Flint’s words could sink in, Mary Jane’s thoughts were ripped apart by a crackling buzz that entered her through the needles and barbs. For a terrifying moment her heart actually stopped in the onslaught of the electricity before beginning to pound out a hard, irregular rhythm. Her eyes stayed closed, her muscles went rigid and started twitching, and her breath completely left her as her lungs seized up. When the sensation stopped she thought—prayed—that she was dead. There was no feeling anywhere, but her ears were still ringing. Did your ears still ring when you died? No, she felt the familiar texture of Flint’s fingers return to her face.

“Don’t you dare go falling out on us yet!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” the frightened girl found herself whimpering over and over again.

“Of course you’re sorry… a sorry whore.” Flint shoved the banana in her mouth. “Eat it, you fucking sex pig.”

Oh, god! To an outside observer it might seem funny, but Mary Jane felt a dark blush creeping into her cheeks as Flint shoved the fruit down her throat. Not only did trying to follow his command really make her feel like a dirty pig, but she couldn’t help associating it with the experience of taking Max’s cock to the hilt. Just the memory triggered stomach wrenches that didn’t help the situation at all. Flint just kept mercilessly pressing it down her injured throat. He got the entire thing in her mouth and pressed his hand across her lips, preventing her from spitting out. She couldn’t swallow! She was going to throw up on Flint, and he was going to… to do something horrible because…

“That’s right, fucking swallow. A whore like you can’t have much of a gag reflex left, anyway.”

The girl choked and strained, fighting past the pain in her abused esophagus. Even her jaw was sore, now. One large swallow that ached in her chest later, Flint removed his hand and used his knuckles to wipe away a bit of the fruit smeared in the corner of her mouth.

“I knew a loose throated cunt like you could do it.” Flint ran the same hand across her cheek, down her neck and chest, and squeezed one perky breast, leaving a trail of her own saliva across her cheek. “I wasn’t gonna do this next part, but you’re so fucking dirty I don’t wanna take any chances.”

No more, she thought, but found she couldn’t talk out loud any more. There was some kind of wall in her brain. She couldn’t even seem to cry anymore. Her cheeks burned and her eyes remained downcast. Mary Jane couldn’t look at the other two as Flint disappeared into the bathroom, and she didn’t even try to talk to them. All she wanted to do was curl up in a corner and die. Water ran in the bathroom sink but even if she could find the strength to lift her eyes from the floor, she couldn’t see what was going on in there.

Flint exited the bathroom smearing conditioner on a cleaned out toothpaste tube. It wasn’t completely empty, though. It was full of water. The conditioner is more than she deserves. He fixed his cold glare on his victim again and found she wasn’t looking back at him. No matter. Flint was experienced enough in these matters. He didn’t need to look into her eyes to know she was broken inside. Without a word, he stepped up behind her, spread her ass cheeks, and pulled the bloody wire to the side. He heard Otto move up next to him, still a fair distance away, all the same. He felt her go rigid when he positioned the tube near her anus and looked up to see her staring at the ground, wide-eyed, with her lips open in a small, shocked gasp. Smirking, Flint pushed forward. Her muscles contracted a couple times and she gritted her teeth in pain. The super-villain continued to ruthlessly thrust it into her before squeezing out the water her muscle spasms hadn’t already forced out. “Keep that in there until I tell you to let go, bitch.”

Mary Jane sobbed, blushing profusely, and nodded slowly.

“I can’t hear you,” Flint growled.

“Yes…” Mary Jane choked out.

“Yes, what?” There was a decidedly dark note in Flint’s voice, tinted with a lusty growl.

“Yes… Master Sandman,” she gasped.

“That’s my little slut,” Flint smirked and patted her on the rear before going into the closet.

If this hurt so much, she really didn’t want his cock in her ass. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, and she was amazed to find she still had any to shed. Keeping the object in her ass wasn’t too difficult, though, seeing as her entire body was tense, baring down on the agony. The sound of clanking metal resonating from Flint’s direction didn’t help, and neither did the camera that was absorbing every inch of her and her humiliation.

“Take her down, Max.”

Mary Jane jumped at the sudden voice and braced herself for more pain. Tingling energy caressed her all over and she felt a rising sensation in the pit of her stomach. The chains unhooked and the ball of blue light lowered her to the floor. She grunted a bit as she was dropped on the barbs again but didn’t say anything. Flint was crossing the room, and now he knelt beside her and started cutting the knots in the wire. Her legs were liberated first, followed by her wrists and upper arms. The teenager could hear Flint’s heavy breathing. As she rolled over so he could cut the knots down the front of her wire harness, she noticed a slight bulge in his baggy pants. He saw her watching and grinned lasciviously.

Flint grabbed her wrist and guided her palm to his crotch. At first she struggled, but her struggles were weakened by the torment she’d endured and he overpowered her easily. His hand made her stroke his denim clad erection as he spoke. “You just can’t wait, can you? You want more cock in your throat, in your ass, in your dripping cunt… or maybe all at once? Are you one of those kinky bitches?” He peeled back the cut wires and ran his other hand over her bloody chest and ribcage, smearing the crimson liquid he’d spilled. The girl let out a feeble cry but didn’t try to squirm away. Flint couldn’t help noticing how she was arching her hips up. He snorted. “Aw, laying on your back hurts with that sticking out of your crack, doesn’t it?” He straddled her hips and dropped most of his weight onto them. She moaned even louder and pressed harder up into his hips. “Look at that, Spider-Shit. Look at you’re little slut writhing and pressing against me.” His pelvis shifted to rest even more heavily on her hips, grinding his erection against her pussy.

“Please stop. Please let me take it out now…” Mary Jane moaned. Not only that, but the denim was grinding the needle he’d left in her clit into her skin.

“Alright,” Flint smirked and lifted off her pelvis. “Take it out.” His hand guided her hand to the button on his jeans.

“No! No! That’s not what I meant!” His hand—covered with her own blood—caressed her cheek and ran up through her hair.

“I know,” Flint chuckled. “Your screaming makes me so fucking horny…” He glared into her eyes, basking in her fear, before standing up and selecting a whip from the items he’d retrieved from the closet. “Time to get on your knees. I know how much you love that.”

Mary Jane had turned on her side when he moved. Now she curled in on herself and gazed at the whip with wide, emerald eyes. “What’re you going to do to me?” Sickness was creeping back into her stomach. Quick as a flash, the whip bit into her side and she yelped, hugging herself and rolling onto her stomach with her knees tucked under her.

“Don’t worry about that yet. Just do what I fuckin tell you.” When she straightened up hesitantly on her knees, he used his foot to nudge a pan he’d brought out to her. “Kneel over that when you take it out.”

Her heart pounded and she felt her face turning hot again. Most of her hair had fallen out of the knot he’d tied, but she wanted to hide more than her face this time. “Please don’t watch me.”

Whap!

The whip cracked across the backs of her thighs and she screamed. Now more painfully aware of the camera than ever, she positioned herself over the bowl—wincing at the burning in her legs—and took hold of the protruding toothpaste tube. She bit her lip, steeling herself. Quick. Quick like pulling off a band aid. Just get it over with… Her breath shuddered in and out of her lungs as she covered her face with her free hand. Her other hand pulled and she felt the water rush out of her. Mary Jane wanted to die. She just wanted to die.

“Go flush that fucking mess,” Flint commanded and laid the whip across her shoulders.

“Y-y-yes, Master Sandman,” she whimpered in a tiny voice, cringing under the lash. The teenager stumbled to her feet, picked up the pan, and hobbled into the bathroom. She kept her shoulders hunched and her eyes on the toilet. When would it end? The order was carried out and she started to go back into the other room, but the whip lashed across her hip that time, the tip wrapping around to bite her butt.

“Clean it out, you fucking whore.”

Trying not to cry, Mary Jane turned to the sink and let the clean water run into the bowl. When she finished, she looked over her shoulder at Flint to see if he was going to hit her again. He gestured to her with one finger and she obediently went to him. He put his hand on her shoulder and pressed her to her knees.

Flint ran his hand down her arm and grabbed her wrist to guide her hand to his fly. “You know what to do.”

Mary Jane slid down the zipper carefully and fumbled with the button. Her shaking hands didn’t make it any easier. His boner looked huge to her when she pulled down his pants and she gulped when she noticed he had a piercing. It was a bar with two small, dull, spikes on each end, but it looked painful, never-the-less. This sicko just thrived on causing pain, didn’t he? Flint walked around behind her and the whip stung her shoulders yet again, knocking her to her hands and knees.

A different bar he’d dredged out of the closet scraped across the ground as he dragged it to him. There were two shackles secured to either end of it: two for the ankles and two for the wrists. The girl barely resisted Flint when he secured her ankles. She did hesitate when he grabbed her wrists and started to pull them back. He merely used his superior strength to yank them out from under her, sending her head crashing to the ground.

Mary Jane laid there with her face to the cold terrazzo, wondering what she’d ever done to deserve this. She’d done her homework, put up with her father no matter how insane he’d gotten, been supportive to all of her friends… The one, stupidest, mistake she’d ever made was going to kill her. It was going to murder her slowly and painfully, rape her of any shred of dignity she may have had left. She wanted to close her legs, wanted to stop him, but it was too late. Not only was the bar holding her legs apart, but she’d already been damaged beyond repair.

“Bloody, spread open, and waiting,” Flint grinned, eyeing her shapely posterior. “That’s how I like to see you.” The grin quickly hardened into a scowl and the whip cracked across her hindquarters again. She screamed into the floor, so he did it again. Then again, starting the whip low and thrashing it up to redden her femininity. Still again it stung her, this time across the right thigh. This last shot broke her skin and blood glistened softly in the low light.

Fire swam up her spine and into her brain. She couldn’t feel the wetness on her leg yet, but she was aware that the sting was more intense than the others. The whipping was bad, but it wasn’t until it stopped that true terror seized her heart. Mary Jane turned her cheek to the floor to see what her tormentor was doing now, though she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know. Indeed, her eyes were greeted by the sight of him smearing lube on his cock. Not only was the image itself disturbing, but what he intended to do with his cock made her want to vomit. Those cruel, psychotic eyes never stopped roaming over her body, either.

Flint dropped to his knees behind her and ran his hands up the soft flesh of her thighs, marred by red welts. He heard her whimper when his hands reached her rear and spread her cheeks. “If you beg for mercy, I might think about taking out the spikes.”

“No you won’t,” she whispered, wanting to cry.

“Oh, the bitch got smart, huh?” Flint growled. Then a slow smirk spread across his face as he positioned himself near her opening. “You’re right, though. No matter, I’ll make you scream anyway.” She closed her eyes and started shaking when the tip of his dick pressed against and started entering her tight little asshole. He struggled a bit to get the piercing inside her and she did cry out. Flint shoved harder, ignoring her tears, focused only on the ecstasy filling him. Half way in he pulled out until he felt a tug on the spikes, then rammed back in all the way to the hilt. She whimpered and opened her mouth in a silent scream.

Her rapist was going in and out of her now, picking up speed and force. She arched her head back and tried to scream but could only gasp for air. The impact of his thrusts shook her body and rubbed her breasts on the ground. The needles in her nipples pulled and poked excruciatingly, but it was nothing compared to the agony and torture of being split open. She could feel the little spikes inside her, as well. They weren’t sharp enough to tear anything, but they still scraped and poked agonizingly. Even with his piercing aside, his skin had a texture almost—but not quite—like sandpaper.

Every time he pulled back for another jab, she tried to pull off of him, but his piercing prevented that. Her muscles were clenching tighter around him, trying to keep him out, but it just made it that much more pleasurable for him. “Scream for me, cunt,” he gasped, fucking her until he could hear their skin slapping together. When she shook her head, he reached between her legs, pinched the needle, and pulled. “Beg for mercy, slut!”

“Please stop,” she sobbed in a desperate attempt to appease him. “God, it hurts, please!”

“How much does it hurt?” Flint pinched harder.

“Please, Master Sandman…” She moaned weakly. “Please, it hurts a lot…”

“Fuck, yeah,” he panted.

He stopped pinching her, but before she could sigh in relative relief he pulled all the way out and rammed back into her. Mary Jane could feel her passage growing wet with something besides the lubricant, something that was most likely blood. Everything else was useless so she cried herself through most of it.

Flint could feel tension mounting in his crotch. He was sitting right on the edge of an orgasm. Her blood was starting to stain his cock and balls. He only needed one more thing to push him over, one more thing… Her tears, blood, and shivering weren’t enough. He had to hear her agony, not just see and feel it. He slapped her ass and listened ecstatically to her yelps. “Push back, bitch.” When she shook her head desperately and clenched her fists, he spanked her even harder. “You wanna die, don’t’cha? Make me come and we can end it. That’s what you want, isn’t? An end to your pathetic, whore’s life?”

That was all she wanted at this point, but she hadn’t wanted it to hurt this much. With a groan of both protest and torture, she forced herself to accept his invasion and started falling into his grinding rhythm. His nuts slapped against her twat and he continued to spank her. Mary Jane tried to use the spanking to keep the beat and ignore her shame, but her cheeks were flushing pink anyway. She thought she could feel him up against her intestines, and it made her want to wretch, but she kept with him until she felt his cock twitching deep in her orifice. The super-villain fell along her back, licking blood from her neck as he pumped her full. His sweat smeared all over the teenager, mixing with the crimson liquid, and she tried not to shudder. Get out of me now. Please get out of me now…

“Remember what I said, bitch? You’ll take it and you’ll fucking like it,” Flint hissed in her ear and continued to push at her.

His response made her realize she’d spoken out loud by accident. Mary Jane whimpered but let him finish her. It wasn’t like she had a choice.

The girl’s blood was sweet, metallic and sugary at the same time. Flint couldn’t just stop without tasting her. He suckled her wounds, none too gently judging by the sounds she made, like a starving vampire. A few more minutes of fucking and devouring later, he came for the last time and hesitantly withdrew from the hot, tight cavity. He didn’t want to kill her, he realized. It was much more desirable to think of keeping her caged up down here, gagged and bound, waiting to feed his sexual appetite. Perhaps he could persuade the doctor to see things his way. He freed her limbs and began returning his toys to the closet.