The Revenge of Darkstorm Teen Fire and Teen Frost crouch in the shadows beneath the trees across the street from the abandoned paper mill; for the past six months, they had been tracking the infamous supervillainess Darkstorm, foiling her schemes and dismantling her criminal organization. Tonight, if they were right, they had tracked her to her last hiding place, her last safe house. Tonight, if they were correct, if they did this right, justice would be done. Teen Fire glanced over at her stepsister, Frost, admiringly: her silvery blonde hair shone in the light of the full moon, its pale light shining on her pale skin, her shiny costume, all her soft curves. he step sister and lover, and partner in all their endeavours. Frost glanced at her, and Fire realized they were waiting for her. "Okay," she said quickly. "Let's go." They darted out from the brush and jogged across the street, the moonlight shining off of their bare skin and skimpy costumes: the alien material made into bikini-style garments that shone in the moonlight, like the power gems that nestled in their bellybuttons. They slipped in through the mill's side door, then stop, finding themselves in the middle of a long hallway stretching from the right to the left. "Which way?" Teen Fire whispered. Teen Frost hesitated, listening intently to the silence. "This way," she said, turning left. With other villains they might have split up to cover more ground, but Darkstorm was a very powerful villainess; even more powerful than them, they had to stick together to beat her, as splitting up only offered her the chance to capture them one by one, as they had learned to their cost before. The two heroine walked on silent feet through the paper plant, listening, watching, seeing some sign of their evil foe; they peered into offices and workshops, but nowhere was there any sign of her. The teen superheroines shared a discouraged glance; they were both starting to think that maybe they'd made a mistake, and Darkstorm was not here. After what felt like hours of sneaking through the darkness, they came to a pair of double doors, and stopped, listening intently: a sound came from the other side; muffled by the doors, it sounded like a woman's voice! Pressing their ears to the doors, they couldn't make it out. Fire gave Frost a meaningful glance. 'Ready?' she thought to her sister through the link they shared. Frost nodded. 'Ready,' she thought back, pressing her hand against the left-hand door. Fire pressed against the right-hand door. "Now!" she shouted. They shoved the doors open and stormed into the room, then stopped, staring at what they found. Two large machines dominated the room: the first was a pair of rollers, part of a paper press built into right-hand the wall; the rest of the press was probably on the other side. The other was- well. . . they had no idea what it was: it was a cube almost fifteen feet to a side, but the bottom half of it was open on the side facing them: a wide empty room carved out of the cube, with the top half closed off like a giant box overhead. Inscribed on the side of the box was the words: 'Darkstorm's Trap.' Not knowing what to make of this, the two heroines stared at it in confusion; nor was there a sign of who might have been talking before. Darkstorm walked around the corner of her 'trap' and stopped, shocked, staring wide-eyed at the sisters. Darkstorm stood taller than the teen heroines, almost six feet tall, with long burgundy hair, tanned skin, and dark eyes looking out from behind her green mask. She wore a tight latex catsuit in dark green, emblazoned with her personal emblem, a dark reed flame on her left shoulder; the body-hugging catsuit was pulled even tighter around her waist by a dark red belt and wore tight black rubber boots. She whirled away from the heroines and raced into the trap; Teen Fire leaped after her. "Fire, no!" Frost screamed, but it was too late: the moment Fire walking into the trap, a dozen mechanical arms dropped from the box overhead and grabbed at her sister before she could even move. Frost lunged forward, after her sister, but an arm wrapped around her neck from behind, dragging her back. "Let's just watch," Darkstorm hissed into her ear. "Shall we?" Frost grabbed at Darkstorm's arm, struggling to get free, but the villainess held her in an iron-hard grip, reaching down with one hand to grab Frost's white powerstone from her belly. Teen Frost shuddered, going limp in Darkstorm's grip as most of her power fled her body. The heroine clapped her hands together to summon the stone back. "Me-MMPH!" she cried out, her voice muffled to a murmur by Darkstorm's hand, clapped across her lips. Keeping her hand-gagged, the villainess pulled Teen Frost tighter against her, holding the heroine helpless and still. "Watch!" she growled, turning Frost to face the 'Trap'; helplessly, Frost obeyed. One arm plucked the power gem from Teen Fire's belly button while one grabbed each of her arms and legs, and one grabbed her by the hair. "h-hey!" Teen Fire cried out. "No- don't!" "You really are such idiot bitches," Darkstorm tells Frost conversationally. "I mean, 'Darkstorm's Trap'? How much more obvious could I be?" "Mhmm," Teen Frost whimpered into her captor's hand, feeling ashamed: the villainess was right, how stupid could they be, to walk straight into a trap like this? "He-MMPH!" Teen Fire's desperate cry was cut off by a hug panelgag two more mechanical arms stuffed into her mouth, forcing the plug of it between her soft red lips and behind her teeth. More arms quickly fastened the buckle of the gag tightly behind her head, none too careful about catching her firey red hair in the straps. "Mhmm!" she cried, shaking her head helplessly as more mechanical arms descended with heavy straps in hand. The arms forced her hands down to her sides as more arms drop over her head, a wide loop of metal held in them. It came to settle around her upper arms just below her shoulders, then tightened itself, shrinking around the helplessly squirming heroine; Fire squirmed helplessly in the arms' grip, grunting and crying into the gag, but all for naught: she couldn't stop the band tightening around her upper arm until it squeezed ito her soft flesh, her skin bulging around it: those arms withdrew, but two more appeared, carrying yet another loop. This one closed around her at elbow-height. "Mhmm!" she cried, whimpering helplessly as it crushed her arms against her, squeezing painfully at her elbows. Yet more mechanical arms grabbed Teen Fire and lifted her into the air: the ones holding her legs forced her feet together while still others appeared with other binding bands and began to slip them over her feet and up her legs. Fire struggled to kick her legs, flexing her knees, but still more arms grabbed her to hold her still. While the trap worked, Darkstorm slipped a wide ring gag into Frost's mouth, pulling ta her hair to make her gasp with pain, the forcing the wide rubber ring past her teeth: it had a wide leather band that wrapped around the helpless heroine's head, and a plug, like a bath tub plug, filling the hole to keep her silent, unless her vicious captor wanted to hear her moan. Darkstorm wasted no time, dragging Teen Frost's hands behind her, crossing her wrists, and wrapping a thick strap around them. "There, there," she hushed the crying teen girl as she pulled the strap painfully tight and buckled it off. "Everything will be all right. . . well, no," she corrected herself. "Nothing will be all right. Not for you two, anyway." She laughed spitefully, and Frost cried again. By that time, the trap was finished with Teen Fire, and dropped her to the floor; she landed with a whimper, helpless to cushion her fall to the cold hard concrete. The gag filled her mouth almost to bursting, while she was wrapped in straps from shoulder to toe - practically mummified with heavy metal straps around her arms, her soft thighs, down her legs to her feet. She looked up with tears in her fearful eyes as Darkstorm came to stand over her, dragging Frost over by a handful of her blonde hair. "Well, well," Darkstorm said gloatingly, glaring down at her helpless foe. "Isn't this nice!" "Mhmm!" Fire whimpered pleadingly. "Well," Darkstorm said again, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. "Isn't this nice?" "Mhmm! MHMMM!" Teen Fire and Frost moaned helplessly, staring, pleading at her, but all for nought: Teen Fire lay on her belly, strapped to a long thin platform resting on a long rail that led into the paper press: a cord led from her platform around the top roller to a short stanchion: if the rollers started rolling, it would wind up the cord, pulling her into the paper press. She still wore her costume, but only because the alien material could not be removed by anyone but she wearing it: Darkstorm had compromised, placing a buzzing vibrator between her thighs, squeezing it down between her bound legs to rest directly on her clit. Her bonds were reinforced by a length of steel cable, wound around her hips and between her legs over the humming vibrator, pulling it even tighter into her; her wrists bore thick leather cuffs bound to the simple crotch harness. She whimpered and squirmed in her bonds, her eyes heavy with tension as she fought against the vibrations pounding into her, struggling not to climax. She also struggled against pain as well as pleasure: Just below the material of her costume bottoms, resting on her tight toned ass, two suction cups held wires pressed against her naked skin: those wires trailed away across the floor to a small electric unit plugged into the wall: every second, enough electricity to kill a man poured through the helpless heroine; the remains of her power was enough to keep her alive, but every second she went rigid, screaming into her gag in pain. Her sister knelt on the floor, her hands and feet bound, staring pleadingly up at Darkstorm, who sat in a chair at the end of the rail, her legs crossed daintily, her arms resting folded across her chest. Darkstorm hooked her index finger beneath Frost's chin, forcing the helpless heroine to look at her. "It's not as if you two haven't crushed my well-laid plans many times," she said. "Turnabout seems more than fair! All your sweet sister has to do is ignore that vibrator and avoid orgasm! Of course, each time she does, those rollers will come on for precisely fifteen seconds." Not needing mention was the fact that at the speed paper rollers went, it would take a lot less than that to squish the firey redhead flat. An evil grin twisted Darkstorm's lips. "She had best control herself, or you might just get to watch Teen Fire have a smashing time!" With an evil laugh, she turned around and hit the switch. Teen Fire moaned helplessly, shivering as the buzzing vibrator and pulsing electricity pounded her helpless body. 'C- c- can't concentrate!' she thought to her sister. 'Mmm- must. . . urgh! Find a way to get loose!" Teen Frost's pale eyes flicked from her captor to her captive sister. "Mhmm!" she moaned, staring up at Darkstorm, pleading with her eyes. Darkstorm shook her head, still smiling that evil smile. "Not this time, little white bird!" she laughed. "This time, it's the end!" "Mhmm!" teen Frost cried, tears spilling from her eyes. No, she thought. It can't be! She lowered herself as far as she could, pressing her gagged face against Darkstorm's firm hip and thigh, rubbing her cheek over the shiny latex. She couldn't what she was trying to offer, but she couldn't let Teen Fire die!' Darkstorm stared down at her captive, lifting a surprised eyebrow. "Is that a serious offer?" she asked as Teen Frost pressed her face between Darkstorm's thighs, trying to reach her crotch. Teen Frost looked up at her captor, then jerked her head toward her stepsister, then back toward Darkstorm's latex-covered pussy. "Tell you what," Darkstorm said, uncrossing her legs and rising to her feet."If you can make me come before your sister, I'll let her cum without dying. Isn't that fair?" Desperate, Teen Frost nodded, and Darkstorm reached down and pulled the plug free of her captive's gag: a long trail of drool spilled out, pouring across her near-naked breasts. Darkstorm undid her belt, and slid open her catsuit, baring her naked shaven pussy. "Come on, bitch," she said with a grin, grabbing Teen Frost by the hair and easing her wide-open lips to Darkstorm's pussy. "Mhmm, mhmm!" Teen Fire moaned, fighting against pleasure that wa forcing her closer and closer to climax, and the terrible pain that broke her concentration, tore down her defenses. With a last glance at her sister before her captor's body blocked out everything else, Teen Frost slid her gagged lips against Darkstorm's pussy lips, sliding her tongue out, and running it over Darkstorm's slit. "Ohhh. . ." Darkstorm moaned with pleasure; Teen Frost had plenty of practice with her tongue, but with her lover, not her enemy! For Fire's sake though, she slid her tongue deeper into the folds of Darkstorm's pussy, seeking the hard little nub of her clit. Darkstorm moaned again as Teen Frost found it. She sucked as best she could at Darkstorm's pussy, grinding her tongue into the sadistic villain's clit. "Mhmmm!" Ten Fire cried out helplessly as she was borne ever closer to climax; she knew she couldn't hold out. Teen Frost rubbed her face against Darkstorm's crotch, humming and moaning as she slid her tongue even deeper into her captor's pussy, then winding it back to her little clit; she felt Darkstorm shudder once, a soft moan rising from deep within her. "MHMM!" Teen Fire screamed as she was borne to the height of a climax, then a jolt of electricity struck her, and the pain sent her rolling down the other side, twisting and squirming, crying as she came thunderously. Darkstorm shuddered again, then came with a cry of her own. Winding her fingers through Ten Frost's long blonde hair,she dragged Teen Frost out from her pussy, then tilted her head up to look into the villainess' face. Holding her helpless gaze, Darkstorm held up a little remote, and pressed a button. "Too late!" she said, then laughed sadistically. "NHHNNN!" Frost screamed into her gag, staring up at their evil captor. With a humm of electric motors, the rollers began to turn. "MHMMM!" Teen Fire screamed, struggling wildly as the platform began to move on the rail. "Too late, red bird!" Darkstorm laughed, her hand holding Teen Frost's head still so she had to watch as her sister moved toward her doom. Ten Fire jerked at her bonds, her face twisted in terror as the cable wound, dragging her into the press. "MHMMMM! HMMMMMM!!" BLAM! A single gunshot rang out. The bullet struck the cable and severed it: the severed end sprang away, between the rollers: it swung and slapped as the rollers spun, while released tension sent Fire the other way;she stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the rollers, contemplating the doom she'd narrowly avoided. Before the echoes of the gunshot faded, Darkstorm leaped to her feet, tossing Frost aside to fall to the ground, then whirled around to face the interloper. "You!" she exclaimed. He was a tall slender man dressed in blue jeans, a dark green shirt and denim jacket; he wore a black wide-brimmed hat upon his head, heavy black boots on his feet, and a long red sash wrapped around his waist: it was Gunslinger, a hero of some little repute. He smiled grimly at Darkstorm, a little twinkle of mischief in his dark green eyes. He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Me," he said back. He held a pair of antique revolvers in his hands. Never taking his eyes off of Darkstorm, he slid his left-handed gun into his sash, then began reloading his right-hand gun. "Hello, Darkstorm." She scowled at him: though he had no powers, the itinerant hero had stumbled into more than a few plots of hers and cause no end of trouble to her and her associates. her scowl faded, then she smiled, her own eyes twinkling now with pleasure: she had him now within her reach. "Hello, Gunslinger," she said, still smiling. "Have you come to die? Tonight just gets better and better!" Gunslinger shook his head. "No, I have not come here to die," he said. He rolled the cylinder of his right-hand gun, then slid the reloaded revolver into his sash over his right hip, butt forward. Slowly, he started walking to the right, still facing Darkstorm. Darkstorm started walking the other way, so they circled the center of the room, still eyeing each other. "Well, then," she said nastily. "What did you come here for? Because there's no way you can beat me." Gunslinger came to a halt beside the giant rollers of the press. He shook his head. "Oh, don't be too sure about that," he said warningly. Darkstorm halted opposite him. "What makes you think you can beat me?!" she snapped. Gunslinger shrugged. "Because I know that there are laws that you obey." She stared at him. Darkstorm blinked. Twice. Then she threw her head back and laughed; she laughed so hard, she almost lost her balance and had to take a step backward, toward her trap. "Oh, Gunslinger!" she gasped. "You are such an idiot! No law can hold me!" "Yes," he insisted. "Even you are subject to Newton's Third Law." His hands blurred as he drew his guns, then fired at Darkstorm. Even faster, Darkstorm raised her hands: she caught the first bullet on the palm of her left hand; it rocked her back on her heels. She caught the next with her right hand and was knocked back a few inches. Gunslinger fired again and again: the supervillainess caught every bullet, but each impact knocked her back a little, until her heel crossed the invisible trigger of her trap. Immediately, a half-dozen mechanical arms dropped onto Darkstorm, just as they had on Teen Fire: before she realized what was happening, they each grabbed hold of her. Darkstorm fought wildly, screaming curses and imprecations, but she had built her trap too well: she could not stop the mechanical arms forcing a huge panel gag into her mouth, then grab her and lift her into the air; she stared wide-eyed as more arms descended holding metal loops to bind her with. Struggling wildly, she screamed into her gag as they closed around her, but she was helpless to stop them. Turning away from her, Gunslinger strode to Teen Frost, drawing a knife from underneath his jacket; she stared at him worriedly as he flourished the gleaming piece of still, but he only leaned down behind her and cut her hands free. As she raised her now-freed hands, he slipped the hilt of the knife into her hand. She shot him a grateful glance, then carefully slipped the point of the knife beneath the strap of her gag and cut it off. Dropping the knife, she grabbed the panel gag and tore it out of her mouth and tossed it away. She clapped her hands together. "Meeesha," she whispered, the name of the alien being who had granted her and her stepsister their power gems so long ago, and her power gem appeared in her hands. Her power flowed back into her at the touch of it, and teen Frost simply reached down and tore the strap around her ankles. As she hurried to free her step sister, Gunslinger turned and walked over to where Darkstorm lay, dropped by the mechanical arms of her trap. He stood over her, looking down at her. "So," he said. "What am I gonna do with you?" The villainess twisted around, struggling against the metal bonds, arching her back to raise her head high enough to glare hatefully up at him. "Mfgh!" she grunted angrily. Gunslinger rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I wouldn't kill you like that; so I suppose I really should turn you over to the authorities." Darkstorm growled: clumsily in her tight bonds, she rolled over onto her side to glare at him more comfortably. "I suppose I could leave you like this, and just call the media," The hero went on. "I'm sure they'd love to get a front page picture of you like this." He laughed. "Can you imagine it? The notorious villainess Darkstorm defeated by a regular human, caught in her own trap? How humiliating!" "Mhmm!" Darkstorm grunted, staring up at him. She shook her head. "Oh, you don't want that?" She shook her head again, then lowered her head in surrender. "So, you'd rather have been defeated by Teen Fire and Teen Frost?' her eyes focused on the floor, Darkstorm nodded, and whimpered, flushed red with anger, embarrassment; reduced to pleading with Gunslinger to avoid even grater humiliation. Imagine it! Gunslinger heaved a sigh. "And to think we could have avoided all this trouble if you'd only thought of that in the first place!" he said, shaking his head. "Well. . . all right. But remember," he said warningly. "You owe me one." He turned away and strode over to Teen Frost, who was just finishing freeing her stepsister from her bonds. "What?" Frost exclaimed. "Don't you want the credit?" Fire asked. "After all, you beat her." "Yeah, but- well, I'm not exactly eager to meet the authorities myself," Gunslinger said. "If I remember right, I am wanted for murder in this state." Unlike some heroes, Gunslinger never made any special effort to avoid killing people who deserved it. "Besides," he went on. "What do I want credit for? Glory doesn't matter much as long as the villainess is out of the picture." He glanced at Darkstorm then back at the two teen heroines. "Can you handle her from here?" "Of course," Teen Fire said, shooting the helpless villainess a grin that made Darkstorm flinch. "Okay," Gunslinger said. "Have fun." He tipped his hat, then departed. Darkstorm looked up apprehensively as Teen Fire and Frost stood over her, looking down at her with wicked grins. "You know," Teen Frost said. "He said he wouldn't call the media." "But we didn't," Fire finished the thought. "Mhmm!" Darkstorm moaned, staring wide-eyed up at them, pleading with her eyes.