Our story thus far… It has only been a few more months since Jane Mathews was chosen to become her Earth’s UltraGirl.  After a series of successful busts that brought down crime rates all over Liberty City, the rookie superheroine was ambushed in a seedy warehouse, and captured by the very criminal she was chasing at the time. The unfortunate heroine was put through a humiliating ordeal at the hands of this thug, but eventually she was able to escape.

Humbled but not discouraged, Jane recovered and soon returned to her crime-fighting duties. And after a few more successful missions, her confidence in her powers and abilities has returned as well.

And so, when she noticed a disturbing pattern of women gone missing, she quickly took up the investigation…

I soar low over the dimly lit industrial district, the cool night air whipping across my skimpy costume as I hunt for clues about the string of mysterious disappearances that have been plaguing Liberty City. My bright blue spandex leotard clings to every curve of my petite figure, the thin fabric stretched taut over my perky breasts and narrow waist. Tight red booty shorts ride high on my hips, hugging my plump, round ass perfectly, while dark pantyhose sheath my toned legs down to my shiny red-and-gold high-heeled boots. The golden powerbelt buckled snugly around my waist pulses with energy, flooding me with super-strength and a trill of confidence that, I’ll admit, has me a little cocky.

I’m investigating the vanishings of several young women. Into thin air, or so it seems. My heart races with a thrilling mix of duty and excitement, my kinky brown hair whipping behind me as I scan the shadows below.

A faint movement in one of the allies catches my eye. I drop down silently, boots clicking on the cracked pavement as I scan the surrounding darkness—when suddenly, a sharp sting explodes right in my cute, round butt cheek.

“Ah!” I yelp, my hand flying back.

A tranquilizer dart is lodged deep in the curve of my ass, piercing straight through my red shorts and pantyhose. Heat blooms instantly, spreading fast. My vision swims. The world tilts. My knees wobble as a heavy, syrupy wooziness crashes over me, turning my ultra-strength into useless mush. The powerbelt keeps me from blacking out completely but I’m too dizzy, too sluggish to fight properly.

This -this can’t be happening… not again… I stagger, trying to yank the dart free, but my fingers feel clumsy.

Before I can even call out, a masked thug melts out of the shadows, tall and broad, eyes gleaming with smug victory behind the black fabric.

“Gotcha, little heroine,” he snarls, his voice low and mocking.

I swing a weak punch, my arm feeling like it’s moving through molasses, but he bats it aside effortlessly and grabs me by the waist, slamming my curvy body face-down onto the cold concrete. The impact jars through my spandex-clad torso, my petite breasts squishing against the ground as I whimper, too woozy to roll away or summon my full power.

He yanks my arms behind my back with humiliating ease. Rough rope bites into my wrists as he cinches them tight, knotting them securely while I squirm helplessly beneath him.

“N-no… get off…” I mumble, my voice slurred and pathetic. My struggles are just as feeble, my super-strength refusing to manifest.

This man takes full advantage, letting his hands wander greedily over my vulnerable body as he works. Strong fingers slide up the smooth blue spandex covering my back, then dip around to cup and squeeze my firm, petite breasts through the thin material. My nipples stiffen instantly against his palms, betraying me as he kneads the soft orbs, pinching just hard enough to make me gasp.

“Mmm, these feel even better than they look,” he chuckles darkly, his breath hot against my ear. His touch trails lower, groping the flare of my hips, then boldly palming the plump cheeks of my ass where the dart still protrudes, fingers digging in over the red shorts, spreading and squeezing like he owns me.

I’m panting now, cheeks burning with shame, my body betraying how exposed and helpless I suddenly feel. My arms are already pinned tightly behind my back, the rough rope biting into my wrists as I tug weakly at the knots. My struggles are too slow, too clumsy from the tranquilizer fog swirling in my head.

He shifts lower, and my stomach drops as I feel his hands on my red-and-gold boots. “No… don’t—” I mumble, but he yanks them off one by one with casual ease, tossing them aside. The cool night air kisses my feet through the dark pantyhose, and he lets out a low, hungry sound, running his palms slowly up my legs, now sheathed only in the sheer nylon.

“Goddamn… look at these stems,” he murmurs, openly admiring them. His strong hands stroke and caress the silky sheen of my dark pantyhose, gliding from my ankles all the way up to my thighs in long, possessive sweeps. The slick fabric whispers under his touch, clinging to every toned curve and making my skin tingle with unwanted sensitivity. He squeezes the soft flesh of my calves, then slides higher, savoring the glossy texture as all I can do is squirm on the pavement. My head feels so sluggish, the world tilting as I try to pull my legs away from his unwelcome attention.

“S-stop… please stop touching me…” I whimper, but the protest comes out weak, breathy and slurred from whatever that dart was laced with.

He responds by pinning my nylon-clad thighs down hard with one knee, his weight keeping me helpless. With disheartening ease he crosses my ankles, then starts wrapping more rope around them, cinching it brutally tight. I writhe and kick feebly as he works, my bound arms twisting uselessly behind me, but the tranquilizer turns every movement into slow, pathetic twitches.

He doesn’t stop there, once my ankles are secure, he binds my knees together as well, the rope biting into the silky pantyhose and pressing my thighs firmly against each other. His hands roam freely again the whole time, sliding up the sheer dark nylon, groping the soft, sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. His fingers brush teasingly close to the red covered mound between my legs, tracing the defenseless seam of my red booty shorts, making me shudder with helpless vulnerability.

How can this be happening to me? I’m UltraGirl, the protectress of the city—at least, I’m supposed to be… Right now I’m just a bound, helpless damsel in spandex and sheer nylons, every inch of my body on display and completely at the mercy of this thug. This can’t be happening again!

Satisfied with his knots, the man hauls me up like I weigh nothing. He throws me over his broad shoulder in a fireman’s carry, my drug-weakened torso dangling down his back, my tied legs bucking feebly against his chest. My round ass sticks up high, the dart still lodged there like a humiliating trophy, as my red booty shorts ride up even tighter. His large hand clamps onto my thigh for balance, then slides up to grope and squeeze my plump butt cheek again, fingers sinking into the spandex-covered flesh as he chuckles.

“Now you’re nice and helpless, heroine. All trussed up for delivery.”

His mocking words send a fresh flush of humiliated heat through my cheeks. Even through the tranquilizer haze I feel a spark of defiance flare up.

“Put me down right now, you bastard!” I snap, my voice thick and slurred but still sharp with indignation. “I’m UltraGirl! You can’t just… just carry me like some- ugh! I won’t be delivered anywhere!”

That low, amused chuckle rumbles through his chest again, then, without warning, his large hand cracks hard across my upturned, spandex-covered ass.

SPANK!

The sharp sting explodes across my plump right cheek, making the embedded dart jolt painfully and my round flesh jiggle under the thin red booty shorts. I yelp loudly, my whole body jerking over his shoulder.

SMACK! SMACK!

Two more hard, deliberate spanks land in quick succession, each one harder than the last, targeting the fullest part of my vulnerable rear. The loud slaps echo in the alley as my soft, spandex-wrapped cheeks burn and sting, the impact rippling through my bound body and making my petite breasts bounce against his back.

“Ahh! Ow! Stop!” I cry out, the pain cutting through the woozy fog and leaving me gasping.

My defiance crumbles instantly. I slump in utter humiliation -which is worse than the pain- my kinky brown hair dangling down his back, cheeks blazing hotter than my freshly spanked ass. A pathetic little whimper slips from my lips as I stop struggling, too ashamed and too weak to keep protesting.

Only then does he start walking, each heavy step bouncing my helpless, curvy body roughly against his broad shoulder. My petite breasts, barely protected by the thin, stretchy blue spandex, squash and rub insistently against his muscular back with each heavy stride. The delicate fabric offers almost no barrier and I can feel the heat of him radiating through it, my sensitive nipples hardening into tight peaks that drag and scrape against the rough material of his shirt. The friction makes me bite my lip to stifle a mortified whimper, my flushed cheeks only burning hotter as unwanted sparks of sensation mix with the dizzy fog clouding my mind.

My kinky brown hair cascades messily over my face like a dark curtain, strands sticking to my sweat-dampened skin and lips as my head lolls limply. I try to lift it, to shake the haze away, but the tranquilizer keeps everything swaying and blurred.

My round, spandex-clad ass juts up obscenely high behind me, the red booty shorts creeping up to expose even more of my cheeks from the awkward bend of my body, the embedded dart still throbbing in my plump flesh like a constant reminder of how easily I was taken down. The man’s strong hand stays clamped on my thigh, fingers digging possessively into the sheer dark pantyhose, but it soon wanders upward again, squeezing and kneading the soft curve of my bound ass with deliberate strokes. Each grope sends a fresh wave of helpless heat through me, my powerless legs twitching uselessly against the ropes, my nylon-clad feet dangling and swaying like a captured prize.

“Fuck, you’re even softer than you look, UltraGirl,” he mutters with a low, satisfied laugh, giving my ass another firm slap that makes the plump flesh jiggle under his palm.

I can’t hold back a sob of humiliation, and fear, as the impact ripples through my body, pressing my squished breasts harder against his back and drawing another dazed gasp from my throat. I’m completely exposed like this, draped over him like a trophy, every curve of my costumed body bouncing and rubbing against him with no way to stop it.

The powerbelt still hums faintly at my waist, keeping me from blacking out, but offering no help. Instead, forcing me to feel every second of this degrading carry: the bounce of my tits, the grope of his fingers between my thighs…and worst of all, the abject dread pooling low in my belly as a getaway car -trunk open- looms closer in the shadows.

By the time we reach it, I’m panting softly, heart hammering with fresh panic, my mind a swirling storm of frustration, shame, and that deepening sense of total helplessness. I’m completely at his mercy now, no fight left, just the dread of what comes next.

He’s barely broken a sweat… and I’m already his.

He hauls me off his shoulder, my bound body limp and heavy, and stuffs me into the trunk without ceremony. I try to fight it, twisting weakly, my nylon-sheathed legs kicking in futile little jerks against the ropes, my shoulders straining at the tight wrist bindings.

“D-don’t… you bastard… I’ll… I’ll make you pay for this…” The threat comes out pathetic and slurred, my voice thick and dreamy from the tranquilizer, barely louder than a whisper.

He just laughs, deep and mocking, as he manhandles my curvy frame into the cramped trunk. “Oh yeah? You’re gonna make me pay, UltraGirl? Look at you, trussed up like a pretty little package, ass still twitching from that dart. Keep talking tough, it’s cute.”

I can’t help but let out a pitiful cry of wordless desperation as his strong hands shove me in, folding my helpless body onto my side. I give with an undignified grunt, and a thud against the cold metal floor. The chill seeps instantly through the sheer dark pantyhose covering my hip and thigh. My knees are drawn up slightly, my red booty shorts riding high and wedged between my plump cheeks, while my petite breasts squash together under the stretched blue spandex leotard.

Before I can even catch my breath, he leans deep into the trunk, his masked face hovering inches from mine. The smell of leather and sweat fills the cramped space as his gloved hands roam over me with unwelcome possessiveness. He starts at my tightly bound arms, testing the bonds before sliding over to cup my petite breasts through the thin blue spandex leotard. His large palms engulf the soft, firm mounds completely, squeezing and kneading them with deliberate relish, lifting and pressing them together so the stretchy fabric pulls taut across my chest. I can feel every rough motion of his fingers through the thin material as he molds my sensitive flesh, rolling the small globes in slow circles, thumbs brushing heavily over my stiffening nipples until they throb and ache against the spandex.

“Stop… get your hands off me!” I demand, my voice still slurred and weak from the tranquilizer, but laced with as much defiance as I can muster.

I writhe helplessly against the tight ropes, my shoulders twisting, my nylon-clad thighs rubbing together in futile little struggles that only make my bound body rock against the cold metal floor.

He ignores me completely, his breathing growing heavier as he really enjoys himself, pinching and tugging at my nipples through the leotard, making them swell and peak obscenely under the shiny blue fabric. He leans closer, his mask brushing my cheek, and gives my breasts a series of firm, bouncing squeezes, watching them jiggle and settle in his grip like they’re his new favorite toys.

“Get your filthy hands off my tits, you bastard, or I swear I’ll—” He suddenly twists both nipples cruelly. “AHHH!”

My threat cuts off in a sharp, humiliated screech as my sensitive buds suffer between his gloved fingers, pinching and wrenching them hard through the spandex. The stinging pain shoots straight through me, making my whole body jolt and arch in the confined trunk. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I gasp and whimper, the sensation too intense, too degrading. I slump back against the metal floor in humiliated defeat, panting softly, my cheeks burning with shame while my nipples throb hotly.

Then his hands slide lower, tracing the hourglass curve of my waist and the dramatic flare of my hips with greedy, lingering strokes that make my skin tingle beneath the spandex. They settle heavily on my plump, round ass.  Again I feel his thick fingers dig deep into the soft, yielding flesh through the thin red booty shorts and blue leotard. He squeezes possessively, kneading the full, pear-shaped cheeks like warm dough, lifting and spreading them apart before letting them bounce back together with a humiliating jiggle.

“Mmm, fuck… this ass is perfect,” he growls lustfully, his voice thick with raw hunger as he gropes me without shame. “So taut and firm on the outside, but so soft and luscious underneath. These round, juicy cheeks… goddamn, UltraGirl, this has gotta be the sexiest ass I’ve ever –MM! Look at how you fill my hands…big, heart-shaped, and just begging to be played with.”

I whimper helplessly, squirming in the ropes. “S-stop… don’t touch me there…”

He completely ignores me, his fingers continuing their lewd exploration. He toys with the hem of my shorts, tugging the already-wedged fabric even higher between my cheeks until it’s pulled painfully tight, the material straining against my most intimate areas. His palms slap and bounce the plump globes, then sink in deep again, massaging slow circles that send unwanted heat blooming through my core. One thumb deliberately presses and rubs right against the still-embedded tranquilizer dart, sending fresh dizzy waves of tingling warmth radiating through my defenseless rear and up my spine.

“These cheeks are so fucking round and perky… perfect for grabbing, perfect for spanking, perfect for so much more,” he continues, breath hot against my ear. “All that power in your body but the best part is this juicy, fuckable ass. I could play with it all night.”

“P-please… enough…” I whimper again, my voice small and trembling, cheeks burning as I lie there helplessly folded in the trunk. He doesn’t even acknowledge my protests, just keeps groping, squeezing, and praising my bound rear like it’s his new favorite possession.

Finally, his hands drift lower, sliding down the backs of my thighs with deliberate slowness. His rough palms glide over the sleek, toned curves of my legs, openly savoring the silky, glossy sheen of my dark pantyhose. The sheer nylon is stretched taut over my calves and thighs, clinging like a second skin and catching the faint alley light in a smooth, seductive shimmer with every defeated twitch I make.

He lets out a low, appreciative groan as his fingers stroke upward, the slick material allowing his touch to slide with buttery ease. The sensation is maddeningly intimate; my warm skin trapped beneath the ultra-fine weave, every contour of my toned muscles accentuated by the glossy fabric. His fingertips trace slow, lazy circles behind my bound knees, teasing the sensitive hollows there, then drift higher again, stroking all the way up the backs of my thighs in long, possessive passes. The whispery rasp of his gloves against the nylon fills the cramped trunk, soft and repulsive.

He presses harder on the upward strokes, letting his palms mold to the plush inner curves of my thighs just below the hem of my red booty shorts. The sheer pantyhose offers almost no resistance, letting his fingers glide easily in between, brushing dangerously close to my warm, smooth apex. I can feel every individual finger as it smooths over the silky surface, pressing the delicate nylon into my soft flesh before sliding back down in another luxurious caress.

“Mmm… these legs were made for these nylons,” he murmurs, voice thick with lust. “So smooth… so fucking sleek.”

I whimper softly, squirming in my bonds, but the ropes hold firm and my struggles only make the shiny pantyhose whisper louder under his exploring hands. He keeps stroking, long, indulgent passes from ankle to upper thigh and back again, completely absorbed in the glossy, nylon-encased feel of my helplessly bound legs.

A desperate crack forms in my resolve. My voice breaks into a soft, whimpering plea. “P-please… just let me go… I-I’ll forget this happened… please stop…”

He chuckles darkly, giving my ass one final hard spank that makes my whole body jolt. “Aw, listen to that. The mighty UltraGirl begging already. Sorry, doll, the boss has big plans for that tight little body of yours.”

The trunk lid slams shut with a heavy thud, plunging me into absolute blackness.

The engine rumbles to life, a deep, vibrating growl that travels straight through the cold metal floor and into my bound body. The car pulls away with a sharp lurch, throwing me sideways in the cramped trunk. My tightly roped wrists grind harder behind my back as I roll, my petite breasts squishing under the thin blue spandex against the unforgiving floor. Every tiny movement makes the ropes bite deeper, and the sheer dark pantyhose does nothing, not even against the chill seeping into my skin.

We hit the first pothole and my whole body bounces hard. A muffled whimper escapes my lips as my plump, spandex-covered ass jiggles from the impact, the embedded tranquilizer dart sending a fresh spike of numbing heat through my rear. The red booty shorts are still wedged high between my cheeks, rubbing with every shift. I try to steady myself, pushing weakly with my bound legs, but another turn sends me sliding again, my nylon-clad thighs gliding silkily against each other in the darkness.

Fear starts to claw its way up my throat. This is real. I’m really trapped, stuffed in a trunk like helpless cargo. The humiliation burns hotter than the tranquilizer fog.

“Help!” I scream, the word bursting out before I can stop it. My voice is still slurred but loud enough to echo in the confined space. “Somebody help me! I’m in the trunk!”

The car doesn’t even slow. Shame floods my cheeks instantly. A superheroine reduced to screaming for rescue like some pathetic damsel… it burns worse than the ropes.

Desperation wins anyway. As another hard bump jostles my squished breasts and makes my round ass bounce again, I crack completely.

“Somebody please help me!” I scream louder, voice cracking with real terror. “Please! Anyone!”

Suddenly he slams on the brakes. The car screeches and I’m hurled violently forward, crashing hard into the back wall of the trunk. My bound body folds painfully, face smashing into the carpet, plump ass shoved up high, breasts compressed beneath me as the impact knocks the wind from my lungs.

The dart stabs deeper into my soft cheek, sending a hot, dizzying flare through my rear.

Before I can even gasp, the radio blasts on; loud, thumping rock music filling the car and the trunk. The message is brutally clear.

I take the hint.

Panting and trembling, I sink into silent despair, biting my lip hard just to keep any more pathetic sounds from escaping. The thumping rock music vibrates through me, mocking me, drowning out everything except the pounding of my own heart and the humiliating reality of my situation.

UltraGirl. I’m supposed to be the strong, invincible heroine who saves others, yet here I am; trussed up like a gift-wrapped plaything in the back of some thug’s car. My wrists burn behind my back, the ropes unforgiving. My crossed ankles and bound knees keep my nylon-sheathed legs folded tightly together, the sheer dark pantyhose whispering softly with every helpless shift. My petite breasts ache from being squished against the rough carpet, nipples still tender and stiff. And my plump, round ass alternates between dizzying numbness and agonizing throbs where the dart still sits embedded. The red booty shorts wedged so high and tight between my cheeks that the fabric rubs intimately with every bump.

Fear and humiliation finally overwhelm me completely. Tears sting my eyes, then spill over, hot and unstoppable, tracing wet trails down my flushed cheeks. A broken sob escapes despite my efforts to hold it in, quiet at first, then deeper, shaking my whole bound body. I cry alone in the darkness, soft, shuddering sobs that make my shoulders heave against the ropes and press my spandex-clad curves harder into the cold metal floor.

Why couldn’t I fight him? Why did my powerbelt only keep me awake for this? Awake to feel every degrading second of my defeat and helplessness…

The car hits another pothole and I bounce pathetically, my round ass jiggling, my squished breasts dragging across the metal floor, fresh tears flowing faster as the reality sinks in even deeper. I’m completely powerless. Just a curvy, costumed damsel stuffed in a trunk, my toned legs in glossy nylons sliding uselessly, my pear-shaped body folded and displayed for whoever opens this lid next.

The sobs come harder now, muffled against the carpet, my kinky brown hair sticking to my tear-streaked face. I feel so small, so exposed, so utterly defeated.

Trapped. Muffled. Powerless.

All I can do is cry, my sobs drowned out by the relentless rock music. My heart hammers with terror and that dark sense of utter failure as the car speeds into the night… and I have no idea where he’s taking me.