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“Wait,” The woman beyond the plexi-glass screeched, her hands momentarily snapping away from the motorized board she’d been strapped to. “I remember–! You can’t do this to me!”
Behind the glass, Drone A-C390 sipped her coffee, rubbed a dark, splotchy patch off of her red cross symbol and pressed a button that introduced a fresh set of restraints. The protesting woman was immediately gagged by a whirring mechanical arm as the board began moving forward down the assembly line.
Behind Drone A the door whistled it’s way open on pneumatic drivers. Drone B-2452 stepped through and took a bite out of the freshly buttered bagel in her hand, “Another one?”
“Another one,” Drone A nodded. The protesting woman pulled hard against her restraints and another press of the control panel ensured a second set of bindings snapped into place.
“I really don’t understand why we have to be the ones that do this” Drone B wrinkled her nose, “Everyone knows these superheroines don’t pose a threat to Master Mindrender.”
Drone A clicked her tongue, took another sip and nodded, “She’s less of a threat than that; see the uniform? She used to be a maintenance drone down below, in the inner lab.”
“Wait, she was a slave here?” Drone B cocked her head and took another bite. Through the glass, the ex-slave, ex-superheroine was finally beginning to slow as the over-head mind-number swung into place, beaming hyper-ultraviolet lights into her wavering irises and slowly slackening her face as most of her frontal lobe went dim.
Her protests slowed, then stopped. Another button and she trundled forward into the next stage. Whirring, conical telescopes began to light up spots of her still, dull form. Her chest, already heavier than the average woman, began to swell more, skin turning paler and paler as her face turned into a whorish, doll’s parody of the woman she once was.
“All the slaves here used to be superheroines,” Drone A responded, then swigged a mouthful of coffee. “Duh.”
“Wait!” Drone B set her bagel down on the control desk and dusted herself off, “We used to be superheroines? I was a superheroine?”
A turned to her, and time slowed, her eyes flickered once and then went dim. She felt the familiar, soothing hand of Master’s words at work and when she finally blinked her eyes open again, she was sitting in an empty control room.
She smiled to herself, and pressed the button to load the next slave for reprocessing.
A motorized board whirred into place. The door opened with a clack and a whistle behind her. Drone C-3999 walked in, crumbs of crumpet flowing from her mouth as she asked, “Another one?”
Drone A sighed, wistfully, and pressed a button. Through the glass, Drone B-2452 screamed something about remembering, and trundled along the assembly line.
“Another one,” Drone A nodded, and picked the bagel up off the control panel and took a bite.
Dixie is a reporter who is investigating corrupt cops running an ring in her city and has followed one of the cops, Casey, to their hideout. Dixie follows Casey to a room where she is sitting at a computer working away. Dixie goes into her bag and pulls out a silver mask, revealing her identity as Superheroine Justice. Lauren, the other corrupt cop, sneaks in behind Dixie and when Dixie turns around to leave she is stopped by Lauren. Lauren pushes Casey into the room and Casey gets up and grabs Dixie from behind and holds her arms behind her. Lauren immediately stuffs Dixie’s mouth with a large pair of panties and cleave gags her. The women force Dixie into a chair while she struggles and quickly handcuff her hands behind the chair back and cuff her ankles together. The cops taunt Dixie because they had set a trap for her all along. The women grope Dixie’s body and make out in front of her while telling Dixie they tend to keep her out of the way for a bit so they can finish their current job. The cops decide to go through Dixie’s bag and there they find her Justice mask. What a nice surprise and a perfect opportunity to get rid of their nemesis.
Dixie is now strictly tied to the chair with rope, still cleave gagged and struggling. The cops come in to tell her that she’s going to be sold into slavery just like the rest of the women they abduct. But first they want to make Justice pay for causing them so much trouble over the years. Casey brings out a kniff and cuts Dixie’s shirt to reveal her tits. Both women grope Dixie and each other. Then Lauren goes to the table and grabs a dildo. She wets the cock with her tongue and sticks in inside Dixie, thrusting it in and out while Dixie struggles to try not to cum. It’s no use, Lauren has the magic touch and Dixie moans in pleasure through the panty gag as she cums. Casey blindfolds her and ties off a hitachi to her pussy and the cops leave Dixie there in her predicament. *This was a custom video
Will Justice prevail? Or will Dixie become another victim at the hands of the corrupt cops? Tune in next week to see what happens in Episode Two!
An exciting scene from the award winning web series, We Might Be Superheroes. (Rest assured that whoever did this to superhero Hope is going to regret it.)
Shakti is a popular superhero from Raj Comics in India, debuting in 1998. She was designed from the start to be a feminist character, challenging the violence against women that exists in some parts of Indian culture. She is, of course, far from the world’s first feminist superhero, but what sets Shakti apart is the fact that (unlike many of her American counterparts) she is fueled by a spirit of vengeance which means she’s much happier meeting violence with violence, and even prepared to kill on occasions.
Her origin story fuses Indian religion with familiar superhero tropes. Simple housewife Chanda lives under the tyranny of her violent husband, until one day her pain and suffering reaches such a level that the Goddess Kali (a defender of women) decides to send the spirit of Shakti into Chanda, transforming the meek housewife into a powerful heroine. Shakti kills Chanda’s husband, freeing Chanda from her burden. But Chanda’s relationship with Shakti doesn’t end there – from that day forward, whenever women are suffering, Shakti tries to take control of Chanda once again in order to enact justice and vengeance.
Shakti has the ability to fly at incredible speeds, she has enormous strength, and can blast her opponents with energy, which she can also control with her mind to melt and reshape metal into weapons. The character’s powers are therefore roughly similar to Marvel’s Spider-Woman, but the fact that Chanda has little control over when she transforms into Shakti gives the character an Incredible Hulk vibe.
As the character has progressed over the two decades since her introduction, Shakti has broadened her modus operandi beyond just avenging violence against women. She can now be seen fighting all manner of monsters and supernatural threats, and frequently teams up with other Raj Comics superheroes in stories that have little to do with justice for women. Today Shakti largely saves her feminist activities for her own comicbook, operating very much like a regular hero in her many team-up comic appearances.
Monica Rambeau is on her fourth superhero codename. In the pages of Mighty Avengers she’s Spectrum, having previously gone by Captain Marvel, Photon and Pulsar. The Captain Marvel identity now belongs to Carol Danvers, also on her fourth codename after Ms. Marvel, Binary and Warbird. Her first codename now belongs to Kamala Khan, the fourth Ms. Marvel after Danvers, Sharon Ventura and Karla Sofen.
But Carol is actually the third woman (and seventh character) to call herself Captain Marvel in the Marvel Universe. The second woman was Phyla-Vell, who was the fourth Captain Marvel after she was the second Quasar, before she was the first Martyr, before she saved herself the trouble of another codename by dying. Oh, those women! They never know who they are!
I’m being facetious, of course. These characters don’t choose their identities; they’re given them by writers and editors. If there’s a problem here, it’s not the women, but how they’re treated.
