Spider-Woman and

The Books of Doom

By Jeb and Jenn

Chapter Seven

Being left alone might have been a blessing, or a curse for that matter, depending on how Sophea looked at it.  On the one hand, she was now free to plan some kind of escape without having to worry about her captors altering the situation any.  It didn't help that nothing was coming to mind at the moment, other than the realization that she wasn't going anywhere without a little outside help.  The enchanted ropes weren't coming off without someone else untying or cutting them; the one they called Kane had made that abundantly clear.  

On the other hand, being left alone in a store room for kinky tools of restraint left a lot for an aroused imagination to toy with.  She was at the mercy of at least three or four beautiful women, who'd managed to overpower her.  What things could they do with those restricting yet very tempting cuffs, binders, gags and other items?  Her mind began to wander again, alternating wicked thoughts first of what the long-haired witch would do to her, then the Russian woman.  Moments after shaking that thought, she found herself wondering what Kate could do with some of the rope, leather, scarves, gags... and nothing but her and time to play with her.

No!  Pleasure later... with Kate.. maybe.  Got to escape and stop these people! Sophea admonished herself in her mind, and once again took stock of her situation.  Her eyes had adjusted fairly well to the poorly lit conditions of the room that effectively served as her holding cell.  From what she could tell, the only way out was through the door her captors had carried her in.  That would require getting out of her enchanted bonds first.  Someone would have to come and do something about getting her loose.

Suddenly, her thoughts of escape were interrupted as she heard the doorknob turn, then open ever so cautiously.  Someone was trying to get inside without attracting too much attention, it seemed. Then she saw the Russian woman come in, still in her white leather outfit, scarf about her neck, though she now wore a long black leather trench coat over her outfit.  The seated Sophea attempted to say something, but all that came out was a muffled garble of sounds.

"Sssshhhh.. don't try to talk, you'll find it quite useless," the woman whispered, her eyes filled with the same expectant desire and hunger she'd shown before leaving the room the last time.

She was certainly right, Sophea realized, with the woman's scarf effectively keeping her silent enough.  It was tightly tied in, and its enchantment kept her mouth under control. Tugging at her bonds hadn't proved all that effective toward freeing herself either, though she'd already accepted that she wasn't getting loose herself.  At this moment, a new plan was beginning to formulate - maybe the hunger in her captor's eyes could be turned to her advantage.

Before Spider-Woman could react, the Russian woman removed her leather coat, and laid it across a chair. She stepped closer, taking in the sight of the bound and gagged heroine seated before her.  With a predatory and deeply sensual grin, she stepped behind her captive and began to go about her true business here.  Sophea could only quiver and twitch as she felt slender, wicked hands begin to caress her helpless form.  One ran slowly through her hair before settling on a shoulder, massaging her through the closely fitting cloth there.  The Countess slipped her other hand down from Sophea's opposite shoulder, lingering at her breast for a moment before gradually working its way to her waist, then her thigh.

"I've been waiting for this, my little spider," she whispered seductively to Spider-Woman as she leaned down, cheek brushing up against silky, soft black locks of hair, "It's such a pity to think of what a mess you'll be after Mab has her fun with you... you really caught her attention with the way you... restrained her last time." This was punctuated as The Countess' hand began to toy with her captive's breasts.  Her long, elegant fingers lustfully massaged the captive heroine's bosom, fanning the flames of fiery delight in Sophea's lower regions.

"Ohhhhhh..." Sophea moaned into her gag, her loins aflame. Oh, yes... Oh... No! NO!!  Snap out of it!  You're Spider-Woman, not some Eastern Bloc reject's sex toy!

If only she could persuade the rest of her body of that, but the woman's touch, her scent... and her obviously lewd intentions... were making an argument that defied logic and common sense. Things got even worse as the Countess came around and stood in front of her, staring down into the eyes of her mask, seeking Sophea's innermost depths.  

As if detecting the secret pleasure Sophea was trying to fight, the Countess took a seat in Spider-Woman's lap. She smiled cruelly at the futility of the bound heroine's attempts to force her away, admiring the way the lithe muscles rippled under the skin-tight costume as she strained against her bonds. Now she moved her hand from Sophea's breast and stroked her captive's neck, toying with a lock of her long, dark hair that shimmered in the low light of the storage room.

Her other hand traced the yellow emblem on Spider-Woman's costume from between her thighs and up to her breast, once again lingering there.  As Spider-Woman's efforts to fight her arousal started faltering, her pheremones began to overcome the chemical perfume designed to counteract them.  It seemed to act subtly, if at all, as The Countess seized a thick fistful of Sophea's dark hair in one hand, and then used her other hand to force her captive's chin up.

"I'm going to have some fun with you before Mab breaks you... just you and me, in this room..." the Countess gloated with a husky, lustful tone of voice.  Before Spider-Woman could react, she leaned in and forcefully kissed the heroine's gagged lips.  The Russian woman held the kiss for what seemed like ages - ages full of unparalleled excitement for Spider-Woman. The fist in her hair held her like a vise, and the lips on hers were like magnets whose attraction could not be broken.

Sophea had been with plenty of women, but never had she felt this level or type of distressful yet extremely sensual pleasure.  She was almost ready to give in to her base instincts when it clicked in her mind.  This was how she was going to get away from the Countess!  With her pheremones, it might just be possible to make the woman become so overcome by lust that she'd make a mistake.

So, the plan in mind, she began to respond in a way the Countess likely hadn't expected.  She began attempting to kiss the Countess back, which was a bit difficult when you had a scarf lodged between your teeth. Still, she began wriggling in her bonds, just enough that her bound form rubbed up against her captor's leather clad form.

"What's this?  You know struggling is useless," the Countess said in a soft voice that still carried an authoritative edge to it.

"Nnmmph," Sophea grunted, and did her best to look as if she wished the Countess to claim her as her own.  She writhed as much as she could in the chair, again nudging and rubbing constantly against the other woman.  With the pheremones going like crazy, the Countess did seem to now be influenced by them.

"Yess... you are mine now," the Countess moaned, "And I need to feel your touch."

With that, the Countess slid as close as she could to Spider-Woman's chest, and reached around behind the captive heroine. It was working! The Countess was untying her hands, freeing them from the enchanted rope that held the heroine so helpless.  Once she had loosened and cast aside those cords, the Countess seized Spider-Woman's wrists and yanked the yellow gauntlets off, throwing them to the floor.  Playing the part, Spider-Woman allowed the Countess to place her hands upon her chest and Sophea wasn't even sure where the plan left off and sheer, unadulterated lust took over as her hands made contact with the woman's overheated flesh. The Countess was pleading now, and Sophea's hands began to exert pressure on the tender breasts, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from the Russian. For the first time in hours, Sophea began to exert some control over her situation.

The Countess resumed her fondling of Spider-Woman's form with one hand, reaching to the captive girl's neckline and running fingers up into the wealth of her soft hair. Her other hand once again acted independently from the other, now reaching up to the heroine's cheek, fingering Spider-Woman's mask, and tugging at the material there.  

"I don't care what Kane says, I must see the face of my little spider..." she announced, making no effort to mask her primal lust.  Taking the it by the edge, she ripped the mask off, while her other hand tore away some of the costume fabric from Spider-Woman's bosom area, exposing supple, pale flesh.

Sophea gasped into her gag, her exposed eyes meeting the Countess' lust-crazed gaze. Instinctively, she tossed her head, letting waves of glossy dark hair cascade over her face, hoping that the dim light would have prevented her foe from getting a good look at her. As The Countess stared, Spider-Woman's hands stopped their fondling of the Russian woman's breasts, and she suddenly grabbed her captor's arms, and went from willing submissive captive to dirty fighter in one fell swoop.  Spider-Woman used all the strength she could summon to headbutt the Countess, impacting forehead to forehead with a sharp  thud.  Caught off guard, the Russian wasn't just knocked backward off Sophea's lap, she was out cold.  

"That one was for Kate," she growled at the prone, unmoving form of the Countess.

Wasting no time, Sophea quickly went about freeing herself from her bonds, wanting to get out of the room as quickly as she could. The loosening of the enchanted rope gave her enough leverage to start to slip the leather restraints. In a few moments, she stood on shaky legs, looking down at her unconscious foe.

Need to deal with her fast and get out of here, she thought. She knelt down, and picked up the gleaming golden cord that had so bedeviled her. She had been about to start binding The Countess with it, but thought  better of the idea.

This stuff might come in handy one day, she thought, and set it aside in a shining coil. Instead, she took lengths of the leather that had bound her to the chair and went to work, securing The Countess' wrists and ankles. Though the vulnerable feel of the pale flesh sent tingles along her fingers, she gritted her teeth and focused her energies on restraining her foe and escaping, ignoring the sensual possibilities that presented themselves.

Once The Countess was bound hand and foot, with wrists and ankles joined in a hogtie for good measure, Sophea glanced up at the array of gags that hung from the wall. There was one that differed from the rest, being a white ball of hard plastic perforated with holes, doubtless designed to facilitate breathing. That seemed the most merciful choice to use on an unconscious prisoner, and she soon had it strapped into her captive's mouth and fastened at the nape of her neck.

With her prey secured, Sophea would have loved to stop to rest, but there was no time: she simply had to press her weary body further and faster; there was no way of knowing when someone might come to check on her or The Countess.

She looked down at the tattered state of her costume, and realized that going out in her present condition would provide any onlooker more of a show than she would prefer. She picked up The Countess' leather coat and slipped it on; it was sufficiently oversized that the difference in their builds didn't matter much. She tucked her gloves into one pocket, and the coil of enchanted rope into the other.

One thing she was sure of, as she leaned against the doorjamb for support, was that there was no point searching the place for Kate. Her foes had thought her completely unconscious when they had talked about Kate being taken to some other location, and they'd have had no reason to lie. Escape first, then figure out how to find Kate.

The other thing she was sure of was that she needed to avoid encountering anyone: there was very little fight left in her at this point. And since the sounds she heard seemed to be coming from below, that meant heading up.

Slipping into the hallway, she realized that she had only the vaguest idea of the layout of the place, having been delivered into her captivity like a parcel. Her prison appeared to be one of San Francisco's many surviving Victorian mansions, and the dim light and high ceilings allowed her to move quietly up along the wall and into the darkness. The weight of the coat added extra drag that her exhausted muscles didn't need, and with her powers still shaky, she proceeded along the walls and ceiling with agonizing slowness. Windows would not be a priority in a sex club--particularly if, as she suspected, some of the participants were here unwillingly. Still, some of the upstairs rooms appeared to be guest suites, as opposed to bondage playrooms, and she finally found one with a picture-window view of the sparkling City below; from the perspective, it was clear she'd been a prisoner high atop Nob Hill. She quietly undid the latch, and began a slow descent down the side of the house toward the ground below.

Once at street level, she made note of the address, and walked the two blocks down to Polk, hailing a cab--in her condition, flying was out of the question.

She settled down in the back, snuggling into the depths of the leather coat, after giving the driver the address of the Barbary Plaza Hotel, a property owned by one of her family's many companies. There, she maintained a permanent base of operations with cash, changes of clothes, spare costumes, and other necessities of her double life as crimefighter and society girl. And as she closed her eyes and leaned back on the seat, a plan was forming in her mind to find Kate that would put both her identities to work... and place them both in terrible danger, too.

To Be Continued...

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