Birds of Prey Episode 2 Belling the Cat - Chapter 6 Heroine Whorehouse

Discussion in 'Birds of Prey' started by L'Espion, Jan 5, 2019.

  1. L'Espion Active Member Author

    Blog Posts:
    Birds of Prey
    Episode 2 Belling the Cat

    Story by L’Espion illustrated by the remarkable RenderPretender

    [email protected]

    Chapter 6 Heroine Whorehouse

    “Must he be here?” Rozanov whispered. “The man is a disfigured monster.”

    “Yeah, well I guess that is what you get for not being careful with your chemistry set,” Zeiss answered. “And, yes, he we need his skills. I mean he fixed up Zatanna well enough for you didn’t he?”

    “Yes,” Rozanov reluctantly agreed, “but why not just pay him off and then he can go back to doing whatever he usually does.”

    Zeiss held back a smile. Clearly Rozanov was unsettled by their visitor and it amused him to see the brutal and ruthless Russian crime boss upset by anything. Mind you, being in the same room as Karl Hellfern, also known as Doctor Death, was disturbing for most people. An experiment gone wrong had distorted his features and his body so badly that he was hardly recognizable as human. Olga found him so disturbing that she stood on the far side of the room from him and kept her eyes averted.

    “Let’s look at the facts,” Zeiss continued. “In the last week you’ve had a visit from Catwoman, Black Canary, and Harley Quinn. Harley, I would like to remind you, killed and injured over twenty of your henchmen. How long do you think it will be before some other hero or heroine shows up; perhaps one with metahuman abilities? In spite of the fact that you find the dear Doctor’s presence disquieting he has all the tools to deal with the more dangerous members of the superhero club.

    “Christ I hate this,” Rozanov growled. “That cat-cunt has a lot to answer for.”

    Zeiss chuckled. “Speaking of which, she and her ‘rescuers’ are getting some of that payback right now.”

    “Let’s have a look then,” Rozanov said.

    “Right this way,” Zeiss bowed.

    Rozanov followed him to a catwalk overlooking what had once been a storage area of the warehouse. It had been replaced with a number of modular rooms, or perhaps “cells” would have been a better description; albeit rather luxurious cells. They were large, comfortably outfitted, and contained a variety of equipment that Rozanov’s clients found useful. There were five of these rooms so far with five others being added.

    Olga had come up with the idea. “Vhy ve not make use off zem?” she had suggested. “Ve got enough space. Just add a few rooms and ve can make zem pay zheir vay. No vaitink for buyers.”

    It was an idea that had found instant favour with Rozanov. So far the Cat-bitch and her friends had cost him a pile. This was a way of getting cash back right away and exacting a little vengeance at the same time.

    They had installed the rooms with glass ceilings of one way glass. So far as the clients were concerned it was a normal mirrored ceiling in a somewhat unusual brothel, but it afforded Rozanov and anyone else he approved of to watch whatever was happening below. “Let’s see how the cat-bitch is faring,” Rozanov said, as he stopped above the first room.


    “Uggh!” Selina grunted as the fist plowed into her gut. She barely had time to tighten her abdominal muscles to prevent the air from being blown out of her. Then he hit her again, this time targeting her left breast. It was brutally painful and she could not help allowing a cry to escape her lips. The next blow struck jaw and her legs buckled.

    “Hey,” Reggie Coke protested. “Go easy. I want to fuck her, not beat the shit out of her. And remember its ten C-bills for every mark we put on her.”

    “I’ll pay it,” his brother Archie said. “This bitch big owes us big time for running us out of the East End.”

    “I’d rather take it out of her cunt. We bought her for three hours; let’s get our money’s worth.”

    “All right,” Archie agreed, as he wiped the blood from his nose, “but I get her ass.”

    Despite the fact that her ankles were shackled with a three-foot length of chain, Selina had managed to get a punch in that had staggered Archie, before brother Reggie tackled her and then pinned her arms behind her so that Archie could use her as a punching bag.

    The Coke Brothers were well-named. A few months ago she had expelled both of them from the East End. They hadn’t gone willingly, but she had made her point clear by kicking both their backsides when they had ignored her warnings to stop peddling blow in her protectorate. They had vowed revenge and now it appeared they had found a way to get it.

    Reggie muscled the still struggling Selina toward the bed. He pushed her down and then rendered her helpless by locking a pair of conveniently located shackles attacked to the head of the bed to her wrists. It left Selina with her arms stretched out over her head and easy prey as he forced her legs apart.

    She fought with all of her remaining strength to stop him from, attempting to draw up her knees to hold him back, but he pressed his full weight down on her, one hand on each knee and slowly spread her thighs. Reggie was already stripped for action and fully erect. He moved between her splayed lags and moved toward her inviting vulva. She had time only to take a quick breath before he began his painful invasion.

    Reggie made the rape about as brutal as he could, thrusting repeatedly in and out of her while he squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples before sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he released into her. And then it was Archie’s turn.

    Selina continued to struggle as Archie grabbed her ankles and flipped her over on her stomach. “Give me a couple of pillows,” he ordered. He stuffed the pillows beneath Selina’s belly while still pinning her. It served to raise her backside to the desired level and then while Selina continued a frenzied attempt to escape he parted her buttocks and using his weight forced himself into her.

    This time she screamed as his swollen shaft split her tight anus. It was as painful as anything that had been done to her so far and that was saying something. But the Coke Brothers were particularly well-endowed as they proved for the next two-and-a-half hours, taking her repeatedly both vaginally and anally until she was so sore and exhausted she could barely move. But by that time Rozanov had moved on to view the other heroines in his stable.


    Zatanna moved in a slow circle, her eyes on the man opposite from her. For his part the man made no effort to copy her, simply turning in place, a sneering grin on his features. “Things have changed haven’t they Zatanna? I’ve been dreaming of a moment like this ever since we last crossed paths and you turned my blades into feathers. Well, they’re not feathers now and I’m going to use them on you the way I’ve always wanted to use them.”

    Zatanna could not reply; not after what Doctor Death had done to her. It had been one of the most frightening episodes of her life as he inserted the hypodermic into her throat, paralysing her vocal cords. It had been even more horrible than the rape she had endured. He had injected the drug while she was still restrained between the two uprights where Zeiss had violated her. Unable to move more than a few centimeters, she had tried to arch herself away from the point of the needle; an involuntary action she could not control, and one that Doctor Death had enjoyed prolonging.

    “Let’s see,” the deformed scientist had muttered, as he touched the needle to her skin and then drew it back, an action he repeated several times before finally thrusting it home. “Now this might sting a bit, my dear, but it is necessary to render you helpless; at least for a little while. It will wear off in time, but it is better than having to remove your tongue or vocal cords.”

    “Sting a bit,” turned out to be a complete understatement. There were several moments of searing torment and then her throat went numb. It had been like that ever since and the good Doctor had not been so good as to inform her when it might return.

    The entire ordeal had been a nightmare. She had awoken from her fainting spell to find herself strapped tightly to a surgical table. Her first shock had been to see the hideous visage of Doctor Death looming over her. Although she had never before encountered the arch-villain, she knew who he was immediately and her face must have momentarily reflected her fear.

    “Don’t worry, my dear,” he commented, his distorted features cracking in what might have been a smile, “I won’t harm you. I just wish to perform a few tests.”

    Zatanna had immediately tried to break free of the restraints, but found that she was firmly held in place by leather straps around her wrists and ankles, as well as one crossing her forehead that made lifting her head impossible. While she lay helpless he snapped metal clips onto her fingers and toes, and taped sensors to her temples.

    “You are very beautiful, my dear,” he observed. “Every bit as attractive as the cat-woman and the clown. If I were not as I am I my interest in you might be more than just scientific.” He ran his hands over her body as he spoke, pausing for a few seconds as his hands moved over her breasts. “Such perfect skin. You really are special you know. Just like the other heroines. I am thinking that if I can find out what makes you so special I might be able to do something with that.” His fingers found her nipples, tweaking each one. To Zatanna’s chagrin they stiffened under his touch.

    “So sensitive,” he commented as he moved his hands away. “Gospodin Rozanov has given me permission to conduct a few experiments on you and the other two, provided I do as he asks. I am afraid what he has planned for you won’t be very pleasant, but I will be allowed access to you when you are not busy. But first things first. I must do something about that voice of yours, and then I can take a few samples.”

    And then he had put the needle into her. He waited a few seconds and then removed the ball gag. “That should hold you for a while. Now to take a few samples.”

    He swabbed the inside of her mouth, and then used another needle to take a blood sample, before using still a third needle to extract bone marrow from her breastbone. Zatanna had whimpered in pain as the needle was inserted. “All part of the process, my dear,” Doctor Death soothed. “I’ll find out what makes you tick.” And then he was finished with her for the moment and she was wheeled out of the room and taken to another part of Rozanov’s warehouse where she was checked into the room where she and John Rubio, known as the “Razor” were circling one another.

    “Razor,” was a bit of an understatement. The son-of-a-bitch wore gloves in which each finger ended in a curved blade. Ten blades that he used with deadly expertise. As he had said, Zatanna had run into him before and now for the price of admission he was out to get even.

    She was fully dressed in a facsimile of her costume, although the cheap polyester material in no way resembled the high quality silk of her original. So far he had not touched her with the blades, preferring to chase her around the room. He’s toying with me, she thought. He knows that he has me outmatched.

    Zatanna was not entirely without skills so far as defending herself was concerned. She regularly worked out and her body was firm and well-muscled. But her strength lay in her magic and not her martial arts ability and she could only hope that Rubio’s overconfidence would enable her to get in a lucky kick or punch.

    “Not gonna happen, bitch,” Rubio sneered. “I’m gonna slice that fancy outfit to shreds and then enjoy what’s underneath it.” He moved in suddenly, the tips of the razors slicing through the front of her outfit and leaving it in tatters. The strike had been so precise that he had come within a millimeter of her skin without touching her.

    “Gotta be careful,” Rubio continued. “Can’t cut you up too much. I don’t want you covered in blood while I fuck you and every cut costs me extra. Still, a little nick here and there, just to give you a little pain won’t hurt.” He chuckled. “Actually it will hurt, but not enough to pay you back for putting me away. You cost me two years in the concrete guest house and several hundred grand in lawyers. It’s gonna be fun getting a bit of payback.”

    Zatanna suddenly moved forward, executing a perfect front kick that should had taken Rubio in the balls, only he wasn’t there. He darted to one side laughing as he avoided her.

    “Pretty good,” he remarked, “For an amateur. I’d been a half-sec slower you’d have had me. But I’m a pro and missing cost you.”

    Zatanna was suddenly aware of a sharp pain in her right thigh and saw that her nylons had been sliced through from her crotch to her ankle. It had also left a long painful cut extending from her upper thigh to her knee.

    “Oops,” Rubio grinned. “Went a bit deep there. I’ll have to do better than that. Maybe like this!”

    He moved, his hands a blur. Zatanna felt nothing, but suddenly most of her waistcoat hung in shreds and the shoulders of her jacket had been so thoroughly sliced that the sleeves were supported only by her arms. Angrily she shrugged them off, leaving her arms bare and a good deal of her skin showing. However, for someone who had already been completely stripped and subjected to a brutal ordeal this hardly mattered. He might rip up my clothing, she thought. But he can’t uses those claws to capture me. He’ll have to come closer and then I’ll get him.

    Even as this thought crossed her mind Rubio moved again, slicing through her top hat and sending it spinning across the room. This time, however, Zatanna managed to get a bit of her own back. She had held onto one of the sleeves and she whipped it out, snagging one of his clawed hands. She pulled hard, jerking him off balance and then before he could recover smashed her fist into his face.

    She was aiming for his nose, a demoralizing strike if it landed, but Rubio ducked his head at the last second and took the blow on his forehead. It staggered, him, but also placed Zatanna close enough to him that a backhand blow caught the right side of her head. It was then that she discovered that Rubio’s gloves were reinforced metal on the upper side. It was like being hit with a blackjack and for an instant everything went black. Rubio did not waste any more time playing with her. Instead he went in for the kill, closing his hand and driving his fist into her midriff. Zatanna did not even see it coming and the blow doubled her over, allowing a strike to the back of her neck. She went down on her knees and then Rubio was on her, pushing her face down and using pieces of her shredded costume to bind her wrists.

    “You’re a tricky bitch,” he commented, “but now I’ve got you.” He pulled the bindings tight and then added a few more, pulling her elbows tight in toward the centre of her back. There wasn’t much left of her costume, but Rubio removed the rest of it before grabbing her by the hair and one arm and lifting her from the floor. Zatanna gave a strangled cry as she was pulled viciously to her feet and then he directed her toward a doorway on the other side of the room. He pushed her through it and she found she was in a small bedroom containing a large bed that had been outfitted with various restraints. However, Rubio ignored these. Instead he pushed her face-down on the bed and pinned her there while he proceeded to undress.

    She struggled furiously to escape, but Rubio’s weight held her right where she was until he was ready for her. “Not much without your magic wand are you?” Rubio exulted. “And now you’re going to feel the magic of my wand.”

    Zatanna struggled desperately to escape still another rape but the bonds fashioned from the ruin of her clothing held fast and her movements became ever more frantic as Rubio continued to strip. She clamped her thighs together as he finished in one last forlorn effort to prevent him from having his way, but Rubio made no effort to take her. Instead he simply straddled her, his weight pinning her to the bed, while he added one more level of torment to her ordeal.

    “Ever try sexual asphyxiation?” he asked. “I hear it’s quite a turn on.” As he spoke he looped another piece of her clothing around her neck. It was what was left of one of the sleeves of her jacket and he tightened it around her throat, twisting it slowly to cut off her air supply.

    “Nnggh!” Zatanna gasped, gulping for air. She strained upward in a futile effort to alleviate the tightening of the makeshift garrotte, but it continued to tighten until she could no longer get a breath. She writhed in an effort to escape, but there was no escape from the brutal throttling. Her vision dimmed, dark spots dancing before her eyes and she a loud buzzing filled her mind. Gradually in spite of her desperate efforts her struggles weakened and finally they ceased altogether and unconsciousness overtook her.

    “Unh! Unh! Unh!” She awoke to the sound of her own grunts to discover that Rubio was deep inside her, and she was responding with impassioned cries to every thrust. Even as a wave of humiliation swept over her she arched her back as Rubio squeezed her breasts.

    “Found your weak spot didn’t I?” Rubio crowed. He continued to pound into her as she grunted and groaned in response, unable to fight back the wave of arousal that flowed through her.

    From the observation platform, Rozanov grinned. “Looks like it’s payback time for Miss Magic. I may have to give that strangling thing a try. Now let’s see what the clown is up to.”


    The Quinn woman, Rozanov remembered had required special treatment. He’d tried putting her in the same sort of setting as the other two prizes and it had not gone well. Five minutes after Zunini and his East Side thugs had been let into the room with her he had been forced to turn on the anesthetic gas and send in a rescue team. After the screaming had stopped it had taken several hours to clean up the blood and other bodily fluids in the room and Zunini’s Colombian mistress had been less than pleased over that fact that her paramour had to undergo surgery to repair his badly damaged genitalia.

    “The bitch is really something else,” Rozanov commented as he and Zeiss reach the observation point. “Can’t use her the way I use the other two, however, I think what Olga arranged is a possible solution.” He and Zeiss looked through the one-way glass of the ceiling.

    Harley Quinn grunted in mixed pain and pleasure, her exquisite body bouncing as the thug taking her thrust into her. She was face down and stretched wide, her body in the shape of an X, and her wrists and ankles anchored to metal springs which in turn were attached to a heavy steel frame. Her mouth was open, held that way by an O-ring gag that allowed another thug to enjoy her mouth and throat. Each movement of the two men fucking her flexed her body, the firm flesh of her buttocks and breasts quivering with every thrust. Her hair, no longer tied in her trademark twin braids flew wildly as her body bucked, while droplets of perspiration sprayed in all directions from her glistening pale skin. Ranged around her in a semicircle, impatiently awaiting their turn were several other members of the Gotham Central Gang or the GothCents as they liked to call themselves. Their faces were masks of lust and several of them were pleasuring themselves as Harley underwent her ordeal. She would have screamed at them if she could, but all she was capable of was animal grunts as her two assailants continued to enjoy her.

    “How many times has she been taken today?” Rozanov asked Olga, who had come up to join them.

    “Let’s see,” she mused. “Zhat’s zee third group. Fifteen so far. The bitch has a lot of enemies.”

    “And a lot of endurance,” Rozanov commented. “That bitch is going to make us a lot of money.” He smiled. Perhaps I’m going to make something out of this after all. A heroine brothel. Who have thought? If I could get a few more I’d have a real stable.

    He looked at Zeiss and noted the grim hitman was frowning. “What’s up?” he asked.

    “So far so good,” Zeiss answered. “But I’m just wondering who is going to show up next.”