Issue #11

Time passed.

The doll lived. Dying would have been easier. If it was possible, she would have simply not eaten, and let herself become just another lump of trash inside one of the dumpsters she sometimes slept in. No one would care either way. But every time she tried, something inside her would object. When she was too weak to silence it, that last remaining piece of her that still wanted to pretend she was human would emerge, and make her eat rotting garbage and drink out of puddles to survive.

It shouldn’t have been enough to live on, but it was. That was her useless power’s fault. She could feel it inside her, bolstering her health just enough to stop her from spiraling. The constant usage left only a bare trickle available to her, but that didn’t matter; the doll had no desire to ever use it again. If she still had emotions, she would’ve longed to tear the power right out of her with her bare hands. All it had ever done was trick her into thinking she could ever be more than this.

Not all of her meals came from the trash. People would occasionally approach her on the street, wanting her to go somewhere with them. They’d take her to hotels, or their cars, or just a nearby alley, and she would perform the sorts of things that Backdraft had taught her. Sometimes they would pay her after. Sometimes they wouldn’t. Even when they did, it wasn’t ever much more than spare change, only enough for a small meal or two. Enough to dull the constant hunger, but never to really erase it.

The WHORE brand on her face had faded a little over time, but it was still plainly visible and kept most people from trying to interact with her, and she hid from the police whenever they approached her location. She hadn’t forgotten Backdraft’s warning, or how powerful the man he worked for was. If the police picked her up off the street, her former owner might find out and come for her, and that little piece of her that still clung to life wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

She wasn’t a rainbow doll anymore, just a broken one. Time and rainwater had transformed the colorful mohawk into a mop of drab blonde. The rest of her had become gaunt and sunken from lack of food and proper sleep. Her clothing was as tattered and worn out as the rest of her. She’d acquired them two months ago, shortly after Backdraft had thrown her away, in exchange for letting their former owner take her up the ass. The shirt was stained, ill fitting, and went down almost to her knees. Her jeans were little better, stiff with grime, held up by a dirty cord for a belt, and ripped in multiple places nearly to the point of obscenity. She wore no underwear, and her sneakers had already been falling apart when she’d found them in a trashcan. Every item smelled nearly as bad as she did.

She never wished for anything, but at night she often concluded that everything would be better if she just didn’t wake up the next morning. There was nothing left of her but a dirty, pathetic sex toy, after all. Even the people who sought her out didn’t hide their disdain for what she was. They would call her ugly and filthy and disgusting even as they shot their cum into her.  But every day she woke up, and kept doing what she needed to survive, despite all reason.

It was only a matter of time, though. Her power grew weaker and weaker with each passing day. Someday soon it would give out and she’d end up in the trash like she belonged.

It would be better that way.

**********

“Hey, remember me?” called out the young man in the car. The broken doll didn’t, but she nodded anyway, and he produced a wad of bills. “You wanna come have a good time? I’ll make it worth your while if you make it worth mine.” He was smiling, but there was a cold look in his eyes that she’d seen before in others. He recognized her for what she really was: an object, not a person. People like that were more likely to hurt her when she went with them, and less likely to pay her anything for it.

But even if she’d had an opinion about the smirking man, it was late, and she had no money, and she hadn’t eaten in more than a day. So she nodded again, and joined him in the car when he opened the passenger door for her.

“God, you stink,” he exclaimed when she got in. He sounded more amused by it than disgusted. He also sounded drunk, his words coming out slightly slurred. “When was the last time you even bathed?” She said nothing. “Dirty little slut.” As he drove, his hand was already slipping into her pants, seeking out her pussy. She obediently spread her legs to help him.

“And how many guys you fucked since then, huh?” he asked, pumping her roughly with three fingers. “How many crusty old loads of jizz are in this cunt?” When the doll didn’t answer, he laughed. “As talkative as ever, huh?” He pulled his fingers out of her pussy and jabbed them into her mouth instead, rolling them around her cheeks and tongue. “That’s alright, slut. This mouth of yours wasn’t made for talking, was it?” She shook her head.

He slid his fingers in deeper, until her involuntary response took over and she started to gag on them. “Yeah, there’s my sexy throat slut,” he said, not even looking in her direction as his digits twisted and pushed to keep her helplessly retching. “Got something long and thick to fill this gullet up when we get to where we’re going.” He wiped himself clean on her hair.

Where they were going was a fraternity house at Roosevelt University, where a party was dying down. There were signs that it had been a large gathering earlier in the night, but by now there was only a small group of students assembled in the common room, all men, and all at varying degrees of drunk or stoned. “Hey!” said the one who brought her. He belched. “I brought the after-party entertainment!”

“Jesus, Perry,” one of the others complained. “You fish her out of a fucking sewer or something? And the fuck is up with her face?”

Perry laughed. “Something like that, yeah. Don’t worry, she’s an ugly bitch and she stinks like shit, sure, but she’s got tight holes and the right attitude, don’t ya?” She nodded, and then jumped as he slapped her hard on the ass. “Show them what a good slut you can be.”

The doll knew what he wanted. She quickly stripped out of her clothes, drawing some whistles of appreciation. “Hell, even she knows she’s trash!,” said one of them, pointing at the brand on her stomach. “How many kinds of fucked up do you have to be to put shit like that on your body?”

“Makes things simple though, right?” Perry told him. “The one on her face, that told me she was for sale, but it was the other two that told me she likes it rough and filthy. The one on her ass isn’t completely true though: nobody who’s such a good cum dump should call themselves worthless.”

The doll didn’t try to use one of the several worn couches in the room; furniture was for people, not her. She laid down on the floor instead, on her back in the center of the room, then drew her legs up and used her fingers to spread her pussy and asshole wide open. “Please pound this slut’s holes, sirs,” she begged like she’d been trained to.

“See what I mean?” said Perry. He was already kneeling behind her head to rub his stiff cock on her face. She opened her mouth and let him sink into her throat, his hands in her hair to control her movements. “She’s street trash, but she’s the kinkiest street trash I’ve ever seen. Went out looking for a blowjob two weeks ago, and she damn near devoured my cock and begged for more. Just check this out.” He pushed in insistently, cutting off her air and making her gag. The doll tried to adjust, but he wrenched her head back in place and she realized that he didn’t just want her to suck on him; he wanted her to choke on him.

With her head buried in his crotch, she couldn’t see which one approached her other side, but she felt his thick cock sliding into her pussy. Like almost everyone who used her, he had no interest in foreplay, and immediately began fucking her in sharp strokes that felt like he was trying to smash her pelvis. Her response was to wrap her legs around him and hump against him at the same rough pace, ignoring the way each thrust felt like rubbing herself with sandpaper. “Damn,” he said appreciatively, “she is a cock hungry slut. Clenching me with her cunt like it can’t wait to gobble up my cum.” He slapped her breasts hard. “Am I right, trash can? You trying to guzzle cum with this tight cunny?” She nodded as much as Perry’s hands would allow her and continued fucking him back.

“You missed the latest Frosty while you were out,” one of the unseen spectators told Perry.

His grip on her hair tightened. “Fuck! Was it a good one?”

“Oh yeah. That bitch is seriously fucked in the head.”

“Not as much as if I got to have a piece of her,” Perry grumbled. He was slapping the broken doll’s face against his crotch at a quick, steady rhythm. She recognized his body language from her step father. He had no interest in actually having sex with her, not with her throat or any other hole on her body. Her throat was just a fleshlight for him to masturbate with. “I’d fuck Frosty’s face so hard my load would dribble out her ass. Is there a recording up online yet?”

The boy in her pussy laughed. “Where isn’t there a recording by now? The snow slut is ten times as popular fucking herself on camera than she ever was as a superhero.”

It had now been more than a minute since Perry had begun choking her with his cock, and her head was starting to spin. Old useless instincts told her to push him away so she could draw breath, but she ignored them. Her hands were busy holding her fuckholes open, and if he wanted to choke her, the only thing she should ever feel was gratitude that he’d found a use for her. She was just tits and holes, after all, and they existed for others to enjoy.

“Hey, I don’t think she can breathe like that,” one of the others interjected. She had no idea why he would care. “Let up, man.”

Perry did the opposite, pulling her tighter to him. “Fuck you,” he said cheerfully. “She’s just fine. Besides, if this little throat slut wants to breathe sooner, she should do a better job sucking out my cum. Not my fault if she’s a lazy bitch.” The doll did her best to nod. He was absolutely correct. If she was a better throatfuck for him, he would have cum already and she’d have gotten to breathe. It was her own fault that she was suffering.  It was always her fault.

Another several minutes of spitroasting went on. Black spots were appearing in her vision and her head felt like it was going to burst, but the respite of passing out didn’t come. That was her power’s fault again, keeping her on the brink of unconsciousness without letting her go over. “See?” Perry said. “She’s a natural dick swallower! Lungs like a champ. She tasted my cock for a full ten minutes last time without ever dropping off.”

“Think it’s an aberration?” one of them asked.

“Gotta be, right?” another said. “Shit, now there’s a useful ability! Frosty would be mad jealous if she knew there’s a superpowered cocksucker sharing her turf!”

The one using her cunt suddenly started moving faster and more erratically. “Fuuuuuuck,” he groaned as his prick began to spit sticky slime into the doll’s unprotected pussy. His hands were on her tits, twisting her nipples to make her fucktunnel clench his pulsing shaft even harder. “I wanted to go longer, but this trash can’s cunt is just too good!” When he was finished shooting his load into her, he pulled out and wiped himself on her pubic mound. “Who’s next?”

One of his friends quickly replaced him while Perry continued plugging her throat with his fat cock. “How long can you last?” he wondered. “Twenty minutes? An hour? God, if I can make you choke on my meat all night, slut, I hope you weren’t planning on getting any sleep tonight!” The broken doll had no idea how long her power would torture her like this. Backdraft had choked her out plenty of times, but she’d had the collar back then to protect her from her power.

If she had ever needed proof that she was just worthless trash, this was it. An Ant’s ability might be useless, but hers was actively harming her. She was even lower than they were. Backdraft had done her a favor teaching her her place. The doll hung in that state of oxygen deprivation while another boy finished in her cunt, and a third began reaming out her ass. It was only then that Perry’s cock began to twitch. “I told you I’d make this worth your time, slut,” he told her. “Enjoy a bellyful of hot, tasty cum!” Even as he spoke, his warm seed was shooting down her throat.

The doll turned her head and coughed violently when he finally pulled out of her, splattering droplets of semen all over the floor. Her lungs heaved, gratefully taking in air. It smelled of cigarettes and alcohol and unwashed bodies, but it tasted sweet and pure after going without for so long. Her break was short-lived, however, as a new cock was forced down her throat just moments later. “That’s it, trash can,” said its owner. “Let me hear you gag on me. I’m gonna stuff every last inch in here.”

“Come on, ease off a little,” complained someone else. It was the one who’d wondered about her breathing earlier. “You didn’t even give her time to catch her breath!”

“Who the fuck cares?” said the one in her throat. “She’s just a whore, and you already saw she doesn’t need it, so stop being a little bitch and let me enjoy myself.”

“Just because she’s a prostitute doesn’t mean you can treat her like garbage,” the boy objected. “Seriously, let her breathe.”

“Or what, you’ll go back to your room and jack off in the dark?”

“Or maybe I’ll call Campus Security and see what they think about all this.”

The other one swore and pulled out of her. “Fucking buzzkill, man. Fine! We’ll let your girlfriend catch her breath before she swallows my cock.”

As the doll gasped for air, her defender crouched next to her. “Hey, you don’t have to take this from them,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you deserve better than that.”

The doll looked him in the eye. “No,” she told him. “I’m a worthless trash whore, and this is what I deserve.” Her lungs still burned, but she had a job to do. Without prompting, she grabbed the ass of the boy who’d been throatfucking her and pulled him towards her, forcing his cock all the way back down her throat.

The boy laughed. “See?! Just a greedy, kinky slut who loves all the attention. Now quit your bitching and watch how a master does it. Perry, you only lasted ten minutes in her, right? Fucking wimp. I bet you fifty bucks I can keep her throat plugged for the next twenty minutes straight before I shoot off.”

“I just needed to blow off some steam,” Perry said defensively. “Now that I’ve got that first load out, I can pound that throat for hours.”

“Yeah, well, get in line,” said the boy. “First the rest of us get to chokefuck this sword swallowing superslut, and then you can get a second go.”

The broken doll greeted the news of her fate with indifference. Fucktoys were made to be used, and no one in the world cared if she suffered. Least of all her.

**********

Hours later, the broken doll was still choking.

“Keep up the good work, throat slut,” Perry encouraged. “You’ll have me ready to go again in no time.” His cock was soft and limp as she held it in her mouth, trying to coax it back to life with her tongue. The boy’s fingers were casually pinching her nose while she worked, preventing her breathing for no other reason than his own amusement. She hadn’t been allowed to properly catch her breath more than a handful of times since the night had started. Most of her oxygen came from gasps and quick snippets of air here and there, usually in the span of time between one spent cock sliding out of her throat and the next eager one diving in. Dizziness, nausea, a pounding skull and aching lungs had become constant companions.

They were no longer in the common room of the frat house, the gangbang having finally run down at around two in the morning. Everyone had used her multiple times before they were satisfied, even the one who’d talked about helping her. After he’d seen what she really was, he’d raised no more objections about her treatment, and when his turn with her throat came, he’d choked her as enthusiastically as any of them. Once everyone was finished and started breaking up to get some sleep, Perry had asked her to spend the night in his room, promising a hot breakfast in the morning as compensation. She knew full well he just meant his cum, but that didn’t matter. She’d followed him anyway.

They were on his bed now, Perry laying on top and the doll kneeling between his legs. He was using the hand that wasn’t suffocating her to prop a tablet on his chest. He wasn’t even looking at her while she worked so hard to service him. The boy didn’t possess a hundredth of Backdraft’s sadism, but the way that he so casually treated her like nothing more than a walking fleshlight made her feel as small and pathetic as her former owner ever had. Not that it mattered, or that dolls felt anything in the first place. She was being used, and that was what mattered.

“Oh shit!” he said suddenly. “I forgot all about Frosty! She’ll definitely get me rock hard.” He moved the tablet to the side, so that the doll could see it from the corner of her eye. “I bet the snow slut’s like your role model or something, right? Let’s watch her new one together.”

The doll hadn’t seen Frost since Backdraft let her go two months ago. She’d assumed, not that dolls had any worthwhile thoughts in their head to begin with, that he’d gotten bored of her too eventually, and either thrown her out or killed her. The three weeks as his captive had felt like a lifetime, and she’d been walking the streets for more than three times as long as that. For Frost to have been with him for three entire months, most of them spent as the sole target of his sadism… it seemed unbelievable. The doll deserved everything she got, but Frost didn’t deserve any of this, certainly not a nightmare existence like that must be. The universe couldn’t be that cruel.

But there the white haired super was, kneeling submissively on the familiar bare floor with an assortment of items on the ground in front of her. She was markedly thinner, and there was a hollow, glassy look in her eyes, but she was otherwise the same, torn outfit and all. “Hello, all you wonderful people,” she said with a warm smile. “Thank you for allowing Frosty to once again be your masturbation aid. As always, I promise to do my best to inspire your hard cocks and wet cunts.” Her smile faded. “But before we get to that this time, there is something I must address.”

Frost’s eyes narrowed. “My ex-husband has been going around for the last two months spreading vicious lies and slander about me, and I am thoroughly sick of it. That limpdicked wimp can’t stand the idea that I might enjoy expressing my sexuality, or that I have no interest in ever seeing him again, so he’s been going around to the media whining that I must not be doing this voluntarily.” Her fingers touched the black dog collar she wore. “He’s even tried to claim that this must be hiding an animite collar. So why don’t we take a look, together?” She undid the collar’s buckle and peeled it off, exposing the bare skin of her neck. “See?”

Frost put the collar back on, and then showed her fingers off to the camera. Ice spontaneously appeared on them, then melted just as quickly. “No animite, and here I still am.” She stood up and twirled briefly in place, letting the camera see her entire body. “No restraints, no shackles, no animite. I am as free as I’ve ever been, and I choose… this. ” She knelt back down.

Her smile returned. “That should be proof enough, but I think there are more fun ways I can show you my devotion to my new lifestyle too, don’t you?” She picked up one of the items in front of her. “Well, not fun for most of you,” she admitted, showing them the hole punch. “But for a pain slut like me…”

She brought the hole punch to her left nipple. There was an ugly sound as it pierced her flesh, and her smile tightened, but it didn’t disappear. “Mmm,” she purred. “This hurts sooooo good.” She repeated the self mutilation with her right nipple.

When she was done, both of them sported bloody, visible holes. “I should have gotten my nipples pierced a long time ago,” she confided, and licked some of the blood off the hole punch before setting it down. “But there’s no time like the present. And now I can get a pair of new decorations!”

Pink plastic hearts dangled from the rings Frost put on her new piercings. They were small, but not so small that it was hard to read the sharp black lettering on them. “MAKE MY ASS YOUR CUM DUMP” the white haired woman read off one of them. “I chose that one because my asshole is my very favorite place to receive my boyfriend’s cum, especially because Bruno was never man enough to stick it back there. There’s nothing like feeling my lover’s warm, sticky jizz soak my guts to know how much he loves me.”

She read the other. “MAKE MY WOMB YOUR TOILET. Mmm, ladies, have you ever let your man piss in your wet pussy after he uses it? It’s unbelievable. I’ve let my womb go to waste all these years, but now it’s finally found its true purpose. Every time I feel some of my lover’s hot urine make it through my cervix, turning my womb into his own personal piss pocket, I know that I’ve found someone who truly understands me and treats me the way I deserve.”

Frost flicked both hearts. “Perfect, aren’t they? I’m going to wear them for the rest of my life! But these aren’t all…” She picked up the hole punch again. “I don’t just want to see these on myself forever. I want to taste them.” She stuck out her tongue and brought the hole punch up to it. Just before she did the deed, she winked at the camera.

She didn’t talk for a moment after piercing her tongue, and when her voice did come out, it sounded a bit mushier, her tongue swelling up and making it harder to talk. “There! And now the best part.” It was hard to see the heart while she was fitting the ring into the piercing, but when she was finished she stuck her tongue out to show it off. “MAKE MY THROAT YOUR COCKSLEEVE,” she read happily. “My lover has fed me miles and miles worth of his cock by now, but I can never get enough of it. The only thing that tastes better than his thick, pulsing meat is when it’s been seasoned by my own slutty holes. He may be the one in charge, but I never let him get away with pounding my cunt or ass without letting me have a good long taste of him after.”

She picked up the hole punch again. “Just one left, and this is going to hurt,” she announced as she began to stroke her clitoris. “Even a pain slut like me isn’t going to enjoy this. But it has to be done. It’s the only way my weak, worthless, cucked ex might see the truth and stop harassing me.” Frost’s gaze bore into the camera as she brought it to her crotch. “See what you’re making me do, Bruno?”

The hole punch closed on her flesh, and Frost’s entire body shook with agony as she screamed. She stayed like that for more than a full minute, shaking too badly to move, but finally she managed to compose herself enough to put the hole punch down and give the camera a weak smile. “That… that wasn’t so bad,” she managed. “And it was worth it to get my clit properly decorated.”

Working the ring into her pierced clit seemed to hurt almost as much as piercing it had, and it took several attempts for her shaking fingers to succeed. “MAKE ME SQUEAL,” she read. “Pleasure or pain, I love them both. I live to be fucked and hurt and fucked some more. And not just by my lover, even though he’s magnificent at it.” She gave a pained grin. “He likes to share, and I love to be shared. Frosty the Snow Slut belongs to all of you. If I’ve ever made your cock stiff or your pussy damp, then think of me as your eager and willing sex slave, squealing while you penetrate me, squealing while you beat me, squealing while you show me what a bad, dirty girl I am.”

Her tone darkened again. “Except for you, Bruno. I will never be yours again. You’re going to shut your lying mouth and disappear, but before that, I want an apology. You’re going to go back to all those news outlets you’ve visited, and demand that they let you deliver a public statement from each and every one of them. Tell me how sorry you are for not treating me right all these years, how wrong you were to claim I’ve been kidnapped, and most importantly, wish me and my boyfriend a long and happy life together.” She picked up the hole punch and waggled it in front of the camera. “Because if you don’t, then I’m going to have make more videos like this one to show the world the truth.” She tapped the instrument against her cheek, leaving bright red smears of blood. “Is that really what you want?”

That wasn’t the end of the video, but the doll didn’t get to see the rest. Perry had grown hard again watching the former superhero, and the doll had to focus on pleasing him. As she massaged his cock with her throat, she listened to the sounds of Frost being used by Backdraft, the white haired woman moaning in feigned pleasure and begging him to fuck her harder. Even separated by time and distance, the two of them were still nothing but helpless fucktoys being fucked side to side. And all because of her. Because the broken doll had convinced herself for a little while that she was someone who mattered. Meaningless tears dripped down the doll’s face while she served her latest owner.

**********

It was a day after Perry had dropped her off on a random street, leaving her still sticky with cum inside and out. He’d paid her in the end with two singles crammed into her pussy, a third shoved up her asshole, and a handful of dirty coins dug from out his pocket that he’d put in her mouth and called a tip. She’d thanked him for it; it was still more money than many people had given her.

The industrial sector where she’d been held by Backdraft for three weeks had no foot traffic other than her this afternoon. Many of the buildings were abandoned, and most of those that weren’t were used for storage and visited only infrequently by shipping trucks. Occasionally a car passed her by on the way to somewhere else, but none of them so much as slowed down to look at her. People didn’t come to this part of the city looking for whores; going into an alley with someone around here was more likely to get you stabbed and your wallet stolen than your cock sucked.

The doll didn’t know why she’d found herself wandering around here, where she knew that Frost was still being abused.. It wasn’t as though she cared about the woman. Dolls couldn’t care about anything. They couldn’t be curious or feel guilty either. Even if she wanted to help, and that was impossible, there was nothing a half-starved sex toy like her could do. But here she was anyway. She reminded herself that it didn’t matter where she was, every place in the city was the same. No matter the address, all the doll had to do was walk the streets and wait to find someone who wanted to use her. Or until her legs grew too tired and she collapsed and slept where she was. Either way, she could do that just as easily here as anywhere else.

She’d only seen the outside of the car factory once, on her way out, but she recognized it immediately. The place looked so plain and dull from the outside, revealing no hint of the suffering and sex that went on in there daily. It was just a brown lump of a building that was almost entirely windowless. The only exception was the line of mostly broken windows that ran just under the roof to let in some sunlight. They were far too high up to reach, and when inside there had been no way to climb up to them. The doll had looked up at those windows and their illusion of freedom thousands of times.

The doll had no reason to get any closer to the building. She had no reason to stay away either. After all, if Backdraft had any interest in her, she’d still be in there. Its presence was meaningless. She wasn’t walking towards or away from it, just aimlessly, looking for customers. If she happened to walk such that it never left her sight, if her meandering sent her closer and closer until she could reach out and touch it, that was all just random chance, not intent.

The doll heard familiar laughter drifting through some of the broken windows, and it made her guts clench. Backdraft was amused about something, and nothing amused him more than abusing his property. So many of her worst experiences with him had been accompanied by that sound. But he’d thrown her away. The laughter wasn’t directed at her anymore, even though she knew he would laugh himself sick to see what had become of her. It didn’t matter, and she didn’t need to know the reason behind it. But even as she tried to turn away and go somewhere else, that last ember of life in her refused. It wanted to know what had become of Frost. It needed to know what more she’d done to the woman.

The doll studied the windows, and made herself a deal. She would go up there, and she would look. And then, after she’d seen the reminder of her utter failure as a human being… she would jump. The roof was only about four stories up, but the ground was all solid concrete. It wouldn’t be an instant death, but it would get the job done, and it would still be faster and cleaner than starvation. All of her, doll and human, agreed that it would be for the best. For her, and for the world. It didn’t need trash like her around.

The wall of the factory couldn’t be climbed from the inside, but the outside was a different story, the crumbling exterior offering plenty of handholds. Once, her power would have let her climb up it as easily as someone else might climb stairs, but it was only a faint shadow inside her now, and by the time she reached the top, she was out of breath and dizzy, her entire body on the verge of collapse. She was certain she couldn’t climb back down, and wasn’t even sure she’d have the strength to jump when it came time. One way or another, she wouldn’t leave this place alive.

The doll could hear talking from down there, and recognized the baritone of Backdraft’s voice, but it was too faint to make out what he was saying. She laid facedown on the roof and let her head hang over the side to look through one of the windows. It was dusty and smeared with grime, but her eyes adjusted to it, and as she watched the two figures inside, the quiet sounds resolved into words.

“Let’s go over the thank you one more time,” Backdraft was saying, his face creased by a wide and unpleasant grin. “I want to be sure it sounds right, that you’re really rubbing it in the wimp’s face. I still can’t believe he actually did it! I knew he was a little pissant, but I thought he at least had a pair of balls swinging between his legs. How pathetic do you have to be to tell the man who kidnapped your wife to enjoy her?”

Frost was on her knees busy licking his cock, but she pulled away long enough to answer, her voice soft but firm. “He was trying to help me, and you know it, Cyrus. That was the entire point of the last video.”

“Was he, though?” Backdraft taunted. “You’ve become quite a good actress, Fela. Maybe he really believed you. A whole lot of other people sure did. Used to only be 70-30 or so out there who thought you were really doing all this voluntarily, but after the trick with the collar barely anyone is denying that anymore. I’m not even sure how much of that was faked. If you didn’t really want to be here deep down, surely you would’ve broken character and tried to call for help at least once before I could stop you. And what better chance would you get than the very last time you’ll ever not have that collar around your neck?”

“I’m not a fool, Cyrus,” Frost said. “I know you aren’t really streaming these live. I imagine there’s a two minute delay in case I ever give things away, accidentally or on purpose.”

“Five minutes, actually,” he said with a smile. “Doesn’t hurt to be too careful.”

“So I did what I had to do,” Frost continued. “To stop you from hurting anyone else. You said-”

Backdraft slapped her face lightly with his cock, and she obediently stopped talking and got back to work. “I know what I said, Fela, and I meant every word. If you’d tried something while the collar was off, even the tiniest little unscripted ice cube, I would’ve enjoyed making good on my promise and bringing some new girls here to torture. I know at least eight I’d love to ram my cock into. But you were a good little fucktoy, for now, so I’ll keep being satisfied with just you.”

He laughed. “God, you really are such a vain cunt, though! Even after three months, you still insist on pretending to be a hero.”

“I’m not pretending to be anything,” Frost insisted, and then gurgled as he grabbed the back of her head with one hand and forced her to swallow his entire length. A long rod of flame appeared in his other hand and he snapped it down on her backside, making her gurgle again and leaving a bright burn mark behind.

“That was for lying,” Backdraft said. “Spare me the bullshit, Fela. No one here to impress.” He hit her again. “We both know the only difference between any of us supers is advertising. Ever since Aberrants appeared, the world has belonged to us. We do what we want, when we want, with no one to stop us but each other. All that tripe about good and evil, superheroes and supervillains, it’s just what the mundanes and Ants tell each other to feel better about being serfs.”

He was right, of course. It was the same truth the doll had realized years ago. The ones called heroes were just the supers who played along with the lie so that the masses would worship them. None of them really cared about the rest of the world.

There were ten burn marks in a line before Backdraft let go of Frost’s head so she could pull back and take a breath. “Just because… you’re a sociopath…” the white haired woman panted, “doesn’t mean… everyone else is too… I’ve never considered myself a hero, and I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

“If that’s true, you’re even more stupid than I thought,” declared Backdraft as he fed her his cock again. He didn’t keep his hand on her head this time, but she made no attempt to draw back. “If it was just pride, that I could respect slightly. That’s why I thought you did the videos at first. Even as a cum stained fucktoy, you were able to make that street rat think you were her savior. The rainbow slut is probably out there building a fucking shrine to you right now.”

He hooked his index fingers into her nipple rings and pulled, making the super scream around his prick. “But now you’re seriously telling me you just wanted to help her out? That you destroyed the reputation you spent the last two decades building up, and created a new one as one of the sluttiest cock starved bitches in the world, just to selflessly rescue some random piece of shit?”

“I don’t suppose… you’ve heard of the starfish parable either…” Frost said next time she came up for air. “Part of taking on the mantle of Frost was accepting that I could never help everyone. No matter how amazing I was, or how hard I worked, there would always be people out there I couldn’t save, and worse, people I could save but wouldn’t know about in time.”

She looked up at him, and even from a distance the doll could see the fire in her eyes. “But I could save some. Not all, not most, not enough to make a dent. But if I could save some, even just one person, that would make it all worth it. Because even if I couldn’t save the whole world, to those people, I would have made a difference. Their lives would be better because I was in them, and that’s the most any of us can really do for anyone.”

“You’re so full of shit your eyes should be brown,” Backdraft told her. “Lick my balls, oh great and noble superhero.” Frost obeyed. “You might tell yourself all that to make yourself feel better, but you know it’s not true. We’ve made, what, twenty two videos by now? Twenty three? With hundreds more to go before I get bored of watching you humiliate yourself. And in between videos, you take my cock in every hole, drink my piss, eat out my ass, get beaten and burnt for fun, and the most your hard work ever gets you is a tin of dog food every once in a while so you don’t get too worn out to fuck me properly.”

He put his thumbs on her eyelids to force her to look up at him while she tongued him. “Yeah, I know the stupid starfish story, Fela. But you’re not some little kid who gets to throw a few in the water and then go home happy.” His cock began to pulse and shoot, leaving lines of cum across the woman’s face. “All you managed to rescue was a single broken, worthless one, and you’ve fucking drowned yourself to do it. You’re gonna look me in the eye, Fela, and tell me you don’t regret choosing to help that girl? That it’s all worth it for the sake of a pathetic street rat who will never be anything more than a rainbow colored fleshlight?”

“It mattered to that one,” Frost said fiercely, as though that was the only answer she needed.

Tears blurred the doll’s vision, and she pulled herself up and crawled away from the window, not wanting to see or hear anymore. She didn’t feel anything. She didn’t, she didn’t, she didn’t… she was dimly aware that she’d curled up into a ball and was now rocking back and forth.

Frost was wrong and Backdraft was right. What the super had done was stupid. The world wasn’t some kind, loving place where people helped each other. It was a cruel competition where the only person you could afford to care about was yourself, and reaching a hand out to anyone just opened up an opportunity to get hurt. Frost was living proof of that. If she hadn’t deluded herself, someone with power like hers could have had anything she wanted.

That was just how the world was. How it had always been. The strong and the weak, the winners and the losers. The doll could admit that she’d been wrong about Frost’s intentions, but that didn’t change anything. It didn’t matter that there really was at least one good, selfless person out there. It didn’t matter that she’d tried to help her. The world was still the world.

She forced herself up to her feet. It was the world she’d been trapped in all her life, and the one she was about to escape. If she’d been smarter, she would have done this years ago. The doll took one trembling step at a time towards the edge. It was better this way.

She didn’t owe Frost anything, and she couldn’t do anything to help the woman.

She’d never been more than worthless trash.

Trash like her could never be saved.

Trash like her could never save anyone else.

She was at the edge now. The doll stared down at the ground, willing herself to finish what she’d started. She was almost free. It would all be over with just one more step.

What do I want?

The question appeared inside her own head. Its presence was nothing new; it had been there for a long time now.  It had been there these entire last two months on the street, and during her imprisonment with Backdraft, and even before that, when she was still calling herself a person.  It was a question that she’d been running from since the day she’d slipped in the shower and accidentally driven a hole in the wall.  Since five seconds after she’d driven her stepfather out, when she’d realized that she didn’t actually have any idea what to do next.  She’d tried to ignore it, drown it out, pretend it wasn’t there, but still it persisted.  And now, as she drew near her last few seconds of life, it hung there in perfect deafening silence, demanding an answer before she left. What do I want?

Nothing. Dolls didn’t want anything. Dolls couldn’t want anything.

What do I want?

Nothing.

What do I want?

Nothing.

What do I want?

Nothing!

What do I want?

To stop thinking, stop feeling, stop hurting. For it to all just stop.

What do I want?

To not have to be here anymore.

What do I want?

To just end it.

What do I want?

That’s it.

What do I want?

There’s nothing else.

What do I want?

Stop…

What do I want?

Please stop…

What do I want?

I don’t!

What do I want?

NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING.

What do I want?

Please…

What do I want?

Please don’t make me say it…

What do I want?

I can’t have it!

What do I want?

What good is it to want it when I can’t have it!

What do I want?

What I want doesn’t matter! It’s never mattered!

What do I want?

I don’t matter!

What do I want?

The girl let out a sob and sank to her knees. “I want to live!” she wailed out loud. “And I want to deserve to live! I want to stop hating myself!” Backdraft had only finished a process that Randall had started. Ever since the first time her stepfather had pinned her down, she’d told herself that she deserved what happened to her. That was why he was willing to do those things to her. That was why her mother didn’t try harder to stop him. That was why no heroes came to save her like they did in all the books and shows and movies.

What do I want?

Before that had happened, she’d loved superheroes more than anyone. But not because she expected that they’d come and help her if she was ever in trouble. She’d loved them because she’d wanted to be like them. It hadn’t mattered that she was just an Ant, a nobody, a poor kid living in a Chicago slum. She’d believed that anyone could be a hero, even her. Randall’s violation had shattered that belief. If she couldn’t save herself, if she wasn’t worth saving, how could she possibly do the same for others? How could she go on thinking that she could ever do or be anything special?

What do I want?

“I want to save her!” she sobbed. “Please, I just want to save her!” The admission broke something inside of her, and for a long time Lira stayed there on the edge of the rooftop, crying.

She was cold and hungry and everything hurt so much more than it had a few minutes ago. Part of her longed to return to the state she’d just left, to go back to being an empty vessel that didn’t have to hurt or think or feel.  But she resisted.  Lira felt more awake than she had in months, and more like herself than she had in years.  She felt alive again, and it was painful and exhausting and she didn’t want to go back.  She was done being a doll.  She was alive, and she was going to do something with that life.

There was no such thing as heroes. But that didn’t matter.

She was a fool to think she could make a difference. That didn’t matter either.

She was going to rescue Fela or die trying.

Lira gathered up all of her power, actively manipulating it for the first time since she’d fought Backdraft. She’d had far more of it back then than she did now, but that was just one more thing that didn’t matter. At least she’d meet her end as a human being, standing on her own two feet. She still didn’t want to die, but it would be a better fate than remaining the walking, breathing, and lifeless creature she’d been for so long. She sent the energy back through her body to heal herself. Despite not using it for so long, it obeyed her easily, and she felt its familiar warmth spreading through her.

While it worked, she stripped out of her ragged clothes. They were only going to get in her way, and she was well past the need for modesty by now. The TRASH brand on her stomach was almost gone by the time she was naked, and it vanished completely as she watched. The tingling sensation on her face and backside told her that the same thing was happening to her other two brands.

She’d expected her power to be completely exhausted before she was fully healed, but to Lira’s surprise, not only did it finish the job, it felt no weaker afterward. It had seemed like so little before, but taking control of it was like squeezing a sponge, more energy pouring out than she’d been able to sense before. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hopeless as it felt. She played with her power for a few minutes like she had in the old days, running it up and down her limbs. She could have done so much more with this gift than petty theft.

The smart thing to do was to wait for Backdraft to leave, like he always did eventually. The smarter thing was to go to the police. But both those options meant leaving Fela with him longer, and Lira refused to do that. She was afraid of Backdraft, absolutely terrified of the man, but the fury she felt was far greater. She didn’t just want him gone, she wanted to smash his fucking teeth in, and the sooner the better. Besides, she’d never been good at doing the smart thing.

As she readied herself for what was almost definitely going to be suicide, she felt a third emotion behind the fear and anger. She didn’t believe it at first, but it persisted until she was finally forced to acknowledge it, her lips parting in a smile.

This was going to be fun.

**********

Perry idly stroked himself while he watched Frosty’s latest livestream, his mind wandering to other places. She was great, as usual, but it had been much better with that whore’s mouth around him last time. He’d have to try and find her again soon. It wasn’t like an ugly cunt like her was going to be too backed up with customers. And such a skinny thing needed her protein, right?

Frosty was lying on top of a table with her legs hanging over the sides, bound together at the ankles by a chain that ran underneath. It wasn’t the chain that was making her hold so still, though, it was the tall nail that went through her clit ring and into the table. She couldn’t move her pelvis more than a couple centimeters in any direction without tearing the ring out of her clit, which had to make the vibrator buzzing inside her pussy a special kind of hell. Her hands were still free, and she was in the middle of using them to demonstrate how useful her new nipple rings were for titfucking.

The camera didn’t show anything of her boyfriend above the waist, but it showed his cock clearly enough, throbbing as it was enveloped and massaged by her soft flesh. Frosty’s mouth hung open, tongue out, ready to catch his seed when he finished. Her face was already sticky with his cum, her eyes gummed up so much that she was struggling to keep them open. At the start of the livestream she’d claimed that her goal was to fill her entire mouth with her boyfriend’s jizz, but it looked doubtful that she was going to manage anywhere near that much before she’d completely drained his balls. Perry was less interested in her attempt than he was in how she’d be punished for failing. He couldn’t wait to see what that freaky little painslut did to herself next.

Frosty was just about to taste her boyfriend’s baby batter yet again when there was a painfully loud sound from above them, like metal ripping and tearing, and bits of debris fell to the ground. Perry sat up straight, suddenly giving the video his complete attention. What the…?

A moment later something larger hit the ground, a human figure that landed in a crouch, and Perry’s jaw dropped. It was a girl about the same age as him, and she was naked and glowing and …absolutely beautiful. She rose to her feet, her hair warm and golden, her skin shining with a soft light that filled the room. He’d never seen anything like her.

“Who the hell are you?!” snarled a male voice. Frosty’s boyfriend had dismounted from the woman and now he stalked forward, fully entering the frame. As far as Perry could remember, it was the first time the large, well-muscled man had spoken or shown his face on video. No wonder, with an ugly, scarred mug like that. But all the same, there was something oddly familiar about his face that tugged at Perry’s memory. Where had he seen him before?

There was a bright light, and then the man was off his feet and flying backwards, striking something offscreen with a loud crunch. “What, you don’t recognize me, asshole?” the girl spat, her glowing hand still raised. “I’m the fucking starfish!

Lines of fire shot across the screen and- oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! The man reappeared on screen, and Perry knew where’d he’d seen him before now. Fucking Backdraft was attacking the girl – Starfish? – but she dodged most of it, moving impossibly fast. She couldn’t evade all of the whips, but the few that struck her just bounced off her skin without leaving a mark. One whip curled around her arm and she yanked on it, nearly sending Backdraft airborne again before he let go.

The bald man glanced at the camera and chuckled. He was breathing hard, and that energy attack of hers had left him looking banged up and bleeding, but he didn’t seem at all worried. “Well, guess that cat’s out of the bag. Don’t worry, I bet Frosty is gonna have even more viewers now that they know you’re just a helpless piece of rape meat. Won’t have to hold back on camera anymore either!”

“Fela, get out of here!” called the naked girl. “I can hold the fucker off.” She sent out another blast of light from her hand, but this time Backdraft took the blow full on, grunting as he absorbed the impact while staying on his feet. It didn’t seem like anywhere near as powerful a beam as the first. What’s more, the glow around her was becoming noticeably dimmer.

“Don’t even think about it, Fela,” the bald man said. “You so much as breathe too deeply while I’m taking care of the street rat, and your next video will be a snuff film. And so will the dozen I make after that, starting with your husband as my next star.” Frost didn’t argue, remaining as still as a mannequin in her position on the table.

Starfish cracked her knuckles slowly, her posture confident and relaxed, like she wasn’t a naked, unarmed woman facing one of the most dangerous supervillains ever. “Big words from a man about to get forcefed his own teeth. You wanna threaten a bus full of schoolchildren too while you’re at it? Promise to kick some dogs?”

Two thick cudgels made of fire sprouted from Backdraft’s hands as he gave her a nasty grin. “I won’t lie, slut, it’s good to see you. I missed those tits and holes of yours.” He charged forward at her, swinging one cudgel at her head. She blocked it with her forearms, but she wasn’t fast enough to stop him from slamming the other into the side of her stomach. She let out a whuff of breath and stumbled to the side from the momentum, nearly losing her balance and tumbling to the floor. “Just look at you! You went out and got yourself some fresh spirit, then came right back to let me beat and fuck it out of you again! What a sweetheart.”

He was too aggressive to let her retaliate, forcing her to focus on blocking and dodging the powerful blows. Her back hit a wall and he didn’t miss the opportunity to get right up next to her. He carelessly let the flame cudgels fall, the weapons fading away as they broke contact. His hands seized hold of her breasts instead, grabbing two big handfuls of her as he pinned her up against the wall. “We’ve still got plenty of time before anybody finds us, street rat, and thousands of folks watching. Did you come here so I’d make you a pornstar too? Yeah, that’s gotta be it. I bet you were jealous of Frosty getting all the attention, weren’t you?” One hand kept eagerly mauling her breasts while the other moved downward to penetrate her with three fingers. “Mmm, even tighter than I remember. I’ll enjoy wearing it out again. I’ll even let you go after, if you promise you’ll give yourself another pep talk and come find me again for a rematch. Wouldn’t mind getting to pound you back into a fucktoy over and o-”

Starfish’s head snapped forward, her forehead making an audible thump as it collided with Backdraft’s face. The bald man staggered backwards, blood spurting from his broken nose. The blonde girl balled up her fist and slugged him in the stomach, hitting him hard enough to make his feet leave the ground for a moment. She tried to follow up on the attack, but a wall of flame appeared between the two of them, giving Backdraft the cover to put some distance between them.

The two fighters stared each other down across the roaring flames that separated them. “Wouldn’t mind getting to pound you over and over either,” Starfish said, raising her fists and beckoning him to come at her again. “So come on, motherfucker. Let’s smash.”

“That was a big mistake, bitch,” Backdraft growled, no longer looking at all amused about the situation. “You want a real fight? Wanna pretend you’re a fucking superhero? Then die like one.” He dismissed the wall  with a wave of his hand, then extended his arms to send more flame whips directly at the girl. She tried to deflect them like before, but these ones didn’t bounce off. They clung to her instead like they were made of glue. Starfish cursed and ripped them off of her, but Backdraft was already firing more at her. Not just a handful, but dozens of them all at once, maybe even hundreds, all sticking to her bare form and causing her obvious pain. In a matter of seconds she was wrapped up in a burning cocoon made up of multiple layers. The binding was skintight, and Perry could see her body squirming as she fought to escape.

The bald man gave the camera a quick smirk, countless fiery strands extending from his palms. “Fun fact, boys and girls: I almost called myself Spider when I was first making my way in the world. But I had a nasty habit of killing every last cunt I tried to use this particular trick on, and that wasn’t much fun, y’know? Had to go easier on them if I wanted them bouncing on my cock after. But this uppity little bitch…” He swung his arms sharply to the side, and the entire building shook as the trapped girl slammed into a wall. “I think she might be tough enough to take it!” he shouted over the noise. “Just gonna come out the other end as hot, tender fuckmeat!” His arms jerked again, sending her smashing into the opposite wall. “And if not, that’s okay too! I still have the snow slut around to keep my balls drained!”

He rammed her against the walls a third time, and a fourth, dust shaking from the ceiling with every impact. “You heroes like to name all those fancy moves of yours, right Fela?” he asked, chuckling. “Why don’t we call this one the ol’ sack of kittens?” One of the hits was so strong that the camera jittered and fell on its side, making the room rotate and obscuring Frost from view. Backdraft lifted the bound super with his flames, letting her body hang in midair. There was no more movement inside the cocoon, and her posture was limp and lifeless. Backdraft shook her a couple times to no reaction. “Taking a nap, whore?” the bald man taunted. “Or is there nothing left in there but some bloody meat?” He raised his arms up, lifting her until the top of her head almost brushed the ceiling. “Either way, I’m about to give you the hardest pounding of your life,” he promised.

His arms swung down faster than any of his previous attacks, hurling the girl down like he wanted to crack the concrete floor with her body. She offered no movement or defense as she smashed into the ground with all the force of a speeding train. Except… there was no sense of impact like before, no vibration that shook the building. She struck the concrete soundlessly, and her body didn’t so much as twitch as it connected.

Perry didn’t understand what had happened, and Backdraft’s sour expression made it plain that he was equally mystified. He raised her all the way back up, and then slammed her all the way back down, as hard as before. And to as little effect. He might as well have been tapping her with a pillow for all the reaction the contact produced. “You little… little… bitch!” the bald man snarled, no longer sounding as confident as before. He didn’t know what was happening either. He swung her against a wall again, but this time it was as ineffective as the floor had been. So was the next try, and the next. “You fucking cunt! You…” He stopped.

Perry saw what he he’d noticed. It looked like Starfish had struck the wall, but… she hadn’t. She was close, bare millimeters away from it, but no closer. “Who the fuck are you…?” Backdraft whispered, staring at the hovering girl. In answer, the cocoon moved again, this time not under the supervillain’s control. It slowly drifted back to the center of the room on its own power, levitating several feet above the ground. A white light could be seen through the minute cracks between the flame webs. It was a soft, dull light at first, but it steadily grew and grew, until the cocoon pulsed with it.

And then it all burst out in every direction, the flames melting away as the light washed over them. The entire cocoon crumbled, leaving only the girl there, still hovering in mid-air. She hadn’t gotten away unscathed from Backdraft’s assault. She was panting hard, blood matted her hair, bruises and burns lined her whole body, and her left arm was bent at an unnatural angle. But she wore a fierce grin, like she didn’t even notice the damage. “I’m your worst nightmare, baldy,” she told Backdraft, lifting a shaking, soot stained hand to flip him off. “A bitch who won’t do as she’s told.”

She swayed slightly from side to side, as though testing out the movement. “Thanks for the practice, by the way. I was a little rusty when it came to flying, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it.”

Backdraft cast more whips at her and she shifted in the air, dodging them clumsily but successfully. Then she took the offensive, rocketing straight at him, and a swarm of tentacle-like flames shot out of the man’s hands to intercept her. She already had her left hand raised, palm’s glow rapidly intensifying. The white beam that came out and swept over the room was gone as soon as it appeared, but it was enough to sever most of the flames’ connection to Backdraft and make them dissolve.

The few remaining ones latched onto her, and the sudden sizzle announced that she was no longer at all immune to their heat, but Starfish didn’t slow down or try to brush them off. She just continued streaking forward, intent on reaching Backdraft. Another wall of flame appeared at the last moment to block her, but she barreled straight through it this time, and her fist crunched into his face. The blow knocked the man off his feet and sent him skidding across the floor on his back while the girl landed neatly. His body thumped against the legs of a worktable and then stopped. He didn’t move.

The entire aerial charge and their exchange of abilities had taken less than ten seconds. “That’s what I’m talking about…” Starfish panted, letting her fist drop to her side. All of the remaining flames had vanished when Backdraft hit the ground. She giggled. “Guess your days as a pretty boy are over…” She stiffened suddenly, and began limping towards something out of the camera’s view. When the fight first started, she’d been dodging attacks as gracefully as a dancer, but now she stumbled and swayed like it was a struggle just to stay on her feet. The light beneath her skin was barely a glimmer. “Fela!” she said urgently. “Fela! Come on, we’re getting out of here!”

“That sounds… like a wonderful idea,” Frost said weakly. “You were incredible, by the way.”

Starfish must not have been looking in Backdraft’s direction, because neither woman reacted as the man stirred, slowly and quietly rising to his feet. His face was a mask of blood, nose flattened and most of his teeth gone, and there was a vicious look in his eyes. “I…” the girl stuttered, sounding embarrassed, completely unaware of the monster drawing closer. “I was just… l-let’s go, okay? You can tell me how awesome I was later.” There was the sound of tearing metal. “There, that’s the chain gone. Let me just get your collar and we can-”

A twisting web of flame burst from Backdraft’s hands and Starfish let out a choked cry from offscreen. The man pulled backwards, trying to bring her closer. She seemed to be putting up a fight, but after a minute she lost the tug-of-war and was dragged back into view. Several dozen fire whips were coiled around her limbs, neck, and torso, and from the way her mouth flapped desperately, she couldn’t breathe. “You dirty fucking cunt,” he snarled, and yanked hard on the whips, flinging her at a wall again. This time there was no hovering, no lack of impact. Starfish hit it dead on, several ribs shattering with a loud crunch.

The second hit broke her right leg.

The third broke her neck.

By the time he stopped, the blonde super was a battered, twisted and scorched thing. Her eyes were closed, her body limp, and the light beneath her skin had gone dark. If she wasn’t already dead, she would be in minutes. But that wasn’t enough for Backdraft. He lifted her up to the ceiling like he had before, except that this time, he didn’t bother taunting her with what was coming. He just let out an wordless cry of triumph and hurled her shattered body at the ground.

And a pillar of ice rose to meet her.


It grew straight up from the floor, spreading up and out like an open palm, and when it struck Starfish, there was no collision. It swallowed her up instead, arresting her momentum, dousing the flames around her, and leaving her frozen in the pillar’s center like a gruesome ice sculpture. Backdraft scowled. “That was a very stupid thing to do, Fela, even for you.”

Frost entered the frame, the collar gone from her neck. Little else had changed about her physical appearance: she was still wearing the obscene parody of her outfit, still had pink plastic hearts dangling from her piercings, still had the large tattoo that said FROSTY emblazoned across her chest. But the poise with which she now held herself made her look almost like a completely different person. She laid a hand on the ice encasing Starfish. “Sleep well, child,” she said, softly patting it. “I can take it from here.” Then she turned to look at Backdraft. “It’s over, Cyrus.”

“Put your fucking collar back on,” the bald man snarled. Defeating Starfish had clearly taken a great deal out of him, but he still looked like more than a match for his gaunt, tired prisoner. “I’m giving you one chance, Fela, and it’s only because you’ve been such a good cum dump these three months and I’ll miss those tight holes when you’re gone. Put on your collar, crawl over here, and suck my cock while I smash the street rat into a thousand pieces. I’ll write this moment off as female hysterics, and I’ll let you get back to being my pornstar fucktoy.” Flames wreathed his hands. “Or you can die like a dog right here with her, knowing that I’m going to walk out of this place and make this entire city burn for your disobedience.”

The white haired woman shook her head. “No, Cyrus. I’m done cooperating with you. But I’ll give you a chance too: are we going to do this the easy way, or do I get to enjoy myself for the first time in months?” Perry must have seen her smile a thousand times by now in her videos, but they had nothing on the one she wore right now.

Backdraft’s response was to send a hail of fire at her from his outstretched fingertips. Frost swept her own hand out and countered with a blast of ice that made great bouts of steam billow out in all directions when they collided. Perry leaned closer, staring intently at the picture. He couldn’t make out details through the steam, but he could see the two silhouettes attacking each other with heat and cold. Spears of ice shot out from the walls and floor, and waves of fire blanketed the whole room. When the air cleared less than a minute later, virtually everything in view was frozen or melted or both. Even the camera wasn’t unscathed, the image distorted and lens cracked.

Frost looked even more exhausted than before, but otherwise the same. Backdraft, though… the man was covered from the neck down in writhing cords of flame, much like the ones he’d trapped Starfish in. He’d already been a big man, but now he rose up to at least eight feet, and was nearly as wide as he was tall. An ice spear shot towards him from somewhere offscreen, its sharp tip aimed right at his head, and he blocked it with a fiery forearm, ice melting away harmlessly at the point of contact.

The armored man launched himself forward at Frost like a cannonball, moving incredibly fast for someone so large. His massive fist missed her by inches, the fatigued woman still quicker than he was, and went through the solid wall like it was butter. The attack was immediately followed by another, and another, each one only barely evaded by the super. Backdraft continued the relentless assault, destroying everything he touched, while she kept darting away from him, nimble enough to dodge, but not enough to put more distance between them.

“You were always special to me, Fela!” he shouted as he came close enough to singe the tips of her hair. “The other cunts, they were all just for fun, but you? You’re the only one I’ve ever hated. I spent years rotting in prison because of you and your fucking do-gooder attitude!”

It was all Frost could do to evade him now, and it was a losing battle. Her aberration-enhanced speed on the frozen floor was the only reason she wasn’t dead already, and that was rapidly melting under Backdraft’s heat. The two of them circled throughout the room, the ice that was keeping her alive steadily shrinking. Twice she tried to generate more of it, and both times the distraction nearly got her killed. “You went to prison because you’re a horrible monster who raped and murdered for the sheer pleasure of it, Cyrus. I was just karma.”

“And now you’re nothing,” he hissed. He was gradually cornering her, leading her to a dead end where the floor was bare and she’d be unable to escape. It was even odds she’d even last that long, her movements growing noticeably slower and clumsier as she tired further. “Just a simpering, nympho pain slut who degrades herself in front of the whole world for cheap thrills.”

“I’m not Frosty,” the white haired woman said. “That’s never been anything more than your sick game.”

“You think any of the people watching care about that? Most of them never even heard of you before you became Frosty, and no one gives a fuck about some washed up superhero. You know what they’re all gonna do after I kill you? After a little moment of silence for poor old Frost, who died fighting the good fight? They’re gonna go find something else to jack off to, because that’s all you ever were to them.”

The end of the battle came in an instant. Frost dodged one of his sweeping attacks just like she’d been doing, but this time her foot came down wrong and her ankle twisted, sending her tumbling onto her back. Before she could even begin to get up or move, Backdraft was right there. The fire coating the bottom of his foot vanished so that he could plant it on her stomach and pin her against the ground. She groaned as his weight pressed down on her, but offered no resistance and made no attempt to twist free and escape, knowing that she was utterly helpless to stop him from killing her if she tried anything.

The supervillain towered over her, his flames dancing and roiling around him as he basked in his victory. Frost looked so small and weak by comparison, half his size and struggling just to draw breath. “Any last words, Fela?” he asked. “Maybe if you beg nice, I’ll make it quick, yeah?”

“I… do have a request actually…” the fallen super panted. “Could you… move just a hair to the left? Want to… make sure the camera gets… a good angle on your face… when you look up…”

Backdraft glanced up, and his eyes widened. And then several thousand gallons of water came crashing down on the entire room.

Another huge cloud of steam came up as his flames were instantly extinguished. When it dissipated moments later, everything except Frost herself was coated in a thick layer of ice. She wriggled out from under his foot and brushed herself off, and while she was clearly exhausted, there was no trace of the lethargy and clumsiness she’d displayed near the end of the fight. “Thank you for your assistance, Cyrus,” she said. “I can’t even remember the last time I had to make that much ice at once, and I’m not a spring chicken anymore. It would have been much more work to get it all done fast enough if you hadn’t generously drawn things out. You even provided heat to help melt it faster; it wouldn’t have been very professional of me to smash your head open with a solid block.”

She’d covered Backdraft in a good five or six inches of ice, but she’d left his head free, albeit soaked. He didn’t look pleased at the sudden reversal, but he didn’t seem all that upset either. “You don’t even have the balls to kill me,” he crowed, and gave her a vicious grin made gruesome by his missing teeth. “Sorry, is this where I’m supposed to repent my wicked ways and apologize? Curse my defeat? The thing of it is, Fela, I got to enjoy three full months with my sexy snow slut. And I get to savor those memories forever. Hell, I’ve got buddies who can sneak in some of my favorite videos of you to beat off to, which means even when I’m back in my cell, you’ll still be the one responsible for every last load of cum out of me. As far as I’m concerned, this was just a nice little vacation with some great souvenirs.” He winked at her. “And maybe I’ll make it out again eventually and come look you up, yeah? See if we can recapture the Frosty magic?”

Frost sighed. “Oh, Cyrus…” she said sympathetically. She disappeared for a minute, then came back with a metallic collar that she buckled around his neck. “You really think I’m just going to send you back to prison? “

If the threat was intended to faze the man, it didn’t work. “Changed your mind about leaving me alive then? So do it. It’s a kill or be killed world, Fela, and I had a good run.” His gaze shifted to the camera. “Keep your eyes peeled, folks. Either she’s going to pussy out and spare me, or she’s going to prove how bullshit all her hero nonsense is by killing me in cold blood.”

“I’m choosing a third option, actually,” the white haired woman told him. “How are you feeling in there, Cyrus? It was cold at first, but it’s fading, right? That’s the numbness setting in.”

He laughed. “What, you think you’re not a murderer if you just stand back and let me freeze to-”

“I’m not letting you freeze to death,” Frost said, cutting him off. “On the contrary, I’m going to make certain you survive this. Do you know what that numbness is, Cyrus? It’s frostbite. It goes cold, then numb, and then gangrene. You know what they do to limbs after gangrene sets in, right?”

Backdraft’s face paled slightly, but he sneered at her. “You were a better actress when you were playing Frosty. I know you’re bluffing.”

Frost smiled at him. “Really? You were right; there’s no point in just sending you back to prison, and I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of killing you. But after everything you put me through, after everything you put my husband through, you really think I’m going to lose sleep over this?” She indicated her own body with a sweep of her hands. “You mutilate me and think I’m going to hesitate to return the favor?”

“You… you wouldn’t…” he said, but his voice lacked the brimming confidence it had held before.

All your limbs,” she promised. “It’s not even your arms and legs I really care about, Cyrus. They’re just collateral damage. It’s what swinging between your legs that I’m after.” Her hand reached out and touched the man’s frozen crotch. “You’re never going to hurt anyone with this again, and you’re never going to pleasure yourself with this again. So, no, you’re not going to be masturbating to me in your cell, but I’m still going to be on your mind often. Every time you use your catheter, or your balls ache for release, or you hear someone laughing about the bedridden eunuch who used to be somebody… “ She patted his bald, scarred head. “You’ll think of Frost.”

Backdraft’s composure wavered, and then broke. “Don’t do this to me, Fela!” he demanded angrily. “Don’t you fucking dare…!” His tone became more wheedling. “Please! I-I’m sorry, okay! That’s what you want, right? An apology! I apologize! I, I’ll never bother you again, I swear! I’ll just go back to prison and, and, you’ll never see me again! You have to… you can’t do this to me, dammit!”

The super clucked her tongue. “What’s wrong, Cyrus? Not used to someone being cruel to you no matter how you beg and plead? Can’t imagine what that might feel like.” She stretched, and began removing the rings from her piercings. “You should be fully numb now, right? I hope you enjoyed the cold while it lasted.”

The frozen man was openly crying now. “Pleeeeease,” he blubbered. “I didn’t… I… please!”


Frost held up the ring that had been on her clit, the one with the heart that read MAKE ME SQUEAL. “I’m going to take the girl to the hospital, but here’s a little parting gift.” Backdraft cried out as she drove the ring through his broken nose, leaving the heart to dangle at his front lip. “Some jewelry to keep you company. I don’t condone prison violence, by the way. I just think it’s cute on you.”

Backdraft was trying to say something, but he was sobbing too much for Perry to make out any words. Frost seemed to understand him though, because she laughed. “Cyrus, Cyrus…” she said lightly. “I’m just joking, you big baby. I’m not going to castrate you. Yet.” She leaned in close to him, and her voice grew more serious. “From now on, you’re going to be on your best behavior. Polite with all the guards, no quarrels with the other inmates, a model and exemplary prisoner. If I hear about you so much as cutting in line in the prison cafeteria, I’m going to pay you a visit and do it all for real. And Cyrus…”

She wrapped her hand around his index finger and tugged sharply. There was a loud snap, and she held the severed digit up to the man’s face to let him see it. “I’m sparing you because I’d like to think I’m a better person than that, and I don’t want to compromise who I am for the sake of scum like you. But if you make me find you and finish what I started here, I won’t hesitate, and I will enjoy it. Do you understand?” He blubbered something. “Nod if you understand, Cyrus.” He nodded quickly. “Good.”

The white haired woman casually tossed Backdraft’s index finger away. “Keep that jewelry too, while you’re at it. Another souvenir from your ‘nice little vacation’. And now I really do need to be getting that girl some medical attention.” She looked at the camera for the first time and waved. “Sorry, folks. The Frosty show has been canceled.” A line of ice streaked towards the camera, and then the feed vanished, leaving Perry staring at a black screen.

3 thoughts on “Fallen Star Issue #11 – Thrown Away

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