WARNING: This story contains graphic violence, rape and n/c sexual scenes. It is most definitely intended for, and should only be read by, mature adults, over the age of twenty-one.

Note: Some of you may be familiar with the heroines of the Superfamily from some of my other stories. However, this series of five stories takes place in an alternate time continuum, in which the Troll Princess, Erishka, and her evil descendants never existed. Consequently, our three heroines have reached the present day, undefeated and perpetually triumphant in their crusade against crime and evil. The first three stories in this series are posted at: A College Acquaintance. Supermom To The Rescue. and Supergra n Steps In. My thanks to my friend David, for several creative suggestions incorporated herein.


The Invincible Superfamily.

Supermom (Laura White)
Supergran (Clarissa Kent)
Superlass (Betty White)
Superfamily And The Coming of the Banshees 4.
Training The Superpets.
by
GW
(gwalb@nycap.rr.com or  gwalb@yahoo.com)
The Superpets.

Slut (Once known as Supermom or Laura White)
Tramp (Once known as Supergran or Clarice Kent)
Slutina (Once known as Superlass or Betty White)

As a result of the first disastrous defeat of their collective careers, the three Kryptonian heroines of the Superfamily were imprisoned by the victorious Banshees, Meroe and her daughter Panthia. At her mother's instigation, Panthia brutally abused the captive Supergran, with a demeaning, hideously painful, spanking. It was the first step in Meroe's strategy to enslave the three Champions of Virtue, and force them into a hateful life of harlotry, contrary to every noble ideal they stood for. After a long, heroic struggle to resist the young Banshee's domination, the gallant Supergran, shrieking and sobbing in agony, succumbed to unbearable pain and begged for mercy.



In unbelieving horror, the heartbroken Supermom and Superlass watched the venerable matriarch  grovel in servile submission to the vicious little Banshee. The subjugation of the Mighty Supergran, dashed the last hope of resistance; Panthia had no trouble cowing the other two Kryptonian captives.


Meroe warmly congratulated her daughter on a job well done.

"Oh Honey that was wonderful! That fat, old tart will never dare look cross-eyed at you after the way you handled her! And I think you scared the other two simps even more! I thought that Supermom twit was going to wet herself! Now though, it'll be a job teaching them everything they need to know! They've been such prudes all their lives, I'm afraid they'll be slow learners when it comes to pleasing clients! We have to keep their minds on the job! It's been a long day though; it's time to get them settled for the night, and we'll start training them bright and early tomorrow! I think nightly bondage will keep their minds open to new learning experiences during the day, though, don't you?"

"Oh yeah, Ma, DEFINITELY! Hey, let me get the old goat settled first!"

"Hee, hee! I can tell, she's going to be your favorite, Dear! Let me enchant some ropes to use first, though, so they don't get loose! I remember back in the Paris Market, once, a herd of goats got loose, and it took us hours to round them all up again! A real nuisance!"

Meroe soon had the ropes ready, and Panthia set to work.


Panthia was a most versatile, imaginative girl, and delighted in devising new ways, to 'settle' the hapless Supergran, each night.










Vlad the Impaler had always been one of Meroe's favorite historical figures, and she occasionally took a hand in 'settling' Supergran.


In College, Panthia had written a term paper on Medieval Torture devises, inspiring the horrendous 'bosom stocks', one of the most dreadful afflictions for a mature woman of massive bosom proportion!


Of course Supermom and Superlass weren't exempted from painful, nightly, bondage either.






During the day, the Banshees trained their captives in the skills they would need in their new careers.


If the nightly bondage wasn't hellish enough, already, Meroe heard that the element Krytonite had a terrible effect of its own on the women of Kryptonian descent. It robbed them of their super powers, which would make them even easier to control. Even better, it made their suffering all the more terrible, because its slightest touch burned their bodies with a terrible scorching pain. After some difficulty, the resourceful Banshee succeeded in obtaining a sizable quantity of the dread substance, fashioned into various instruments of further hideous torment.


After some experimentation, the Banshees soon learned to use the Kryptonite to ever greater effect.



Sometimes to make the already hideous bondage even more horrific, the demonic Banshees inserted a Kryptonite dildo in their victim's sexual organ.


Panthia always had diabolically inventive ideas for utilizing the Kryptonite; one night she improvised a set of atrociously painful nose hooks.



Perching atop the sharply pointed, rectal cone was even more excruciating.


Panthia took special delight in tormenting her former College mentor.


Although always busy training the hapless captive superheroines for a career in harlotry, Panthia didn't let business interfere with her social life. One evening, she was entertaining her new boyfriend, Ted. The conceited young Banshee regaled him with tales of her triumph over the world famous crimefighters. Not unexpectedly, Ted was a trifle skeptical.


Panthia returned a moment later half-leading, half-dragging a large naked woman, of distinguished, commanding appearance, and though twice Panthia's size, and muscled like a goddess, the ripely mature woman trembled in terror of the tiny, redheaded girl.

Ted gasped in astonishment. "Shit! THAT really IS that Supergran! Just like I seen her on the teevee news! Course she was dressed in that red and blue costume, then! Wow! Her tits are even bigger in person! What a rack!"



"Sorry! I could only get this one, Ma is working with the other two!"



As Supergran cringed and whimpered in fear, Panthia reassured her.

"Nah TRAMP, I'm not gonna beat you, not THIS TIME time anyway! We're just gonna play some nice little games! O'course, if ya screw up, THEN I might have t'discipline ya!"

Panthia turned to her boyfriend, still agape in disbelief, at the sight of the huge, world-famous  superheroine, the terror of the underworld, stripped stark naked, and now herself trembling and babbling in terror, at being bullied by his tiny, redheaded girlfriend.

"Yeah, this one we named 'Tramp'! Then there's 'Slut', and the little one, we call Slutina, like 'little slut' after her Mom! Would ya believe, Slutina used to be my "Mentor' in College! Always preaching t'me, that if I didn't mend my ways, I'd grow up t'be a loose woman! Now she's just my little pet bitch! We're training all three o'them, Gramma Tramp, Ma Slut and little Slutina to be LOOSE women! Takes a lot of work, though, cause they're so dumb!"

"Here, I'll show ya! Crawl, Tramp!" Panthia snapped to the snuffling Grande Dame of Superheroines.


With a loud whimper, the huge, distinguished Supergran obediently sank down on all fours, with the fearful resignation of an oft-whipped dog.

Panthia picked up a stick from a side table, and flung it across the room.

"Fetch!" She snapped.



This venerable superheroine was for decades the idolized epitome of aloof, august dignity, a symbol of unassailable might. Now, she basely cringed like a whipped spaniel at the feet of her youthful mistress. At the word of command, like a well-trained, frightened pet, she obediently began her ignominious passage across the room, crawling degradingly on all fours, her huge globular buttocks raised high, while her regally massive bosom brushed the floor.


As the sobbing, hapless Supergran slavishly crawled toward the stick, her massive derriere, rotated rhythmically from side to side. The heartless Panthia turned to Ted and snickered.

"Gotta' love the way that humongous thunder-butt waggles, dontcha? Heh, heh! it's a superheroine's best side!"


When the weeping  Supergran reached her goal, she reached for the stick with her hand. Panthia snarled angrily at her.

"NO! With yer MOUTH, Stupid!"



"And don't try t'pick it up with your hand, and then stuff it in yer big mouth, neither! Pick it up WITH yer mouth!"

Sobbing fearfully, Supergran, or perhaps more aptly, 'Tramp' under the circumstances, awkwardly contorted her huge body, and succeeded in picking up the stick in her mouth, without touching it with her hands.



Obediently, clutching the stick in her mouth, Supergran turned awkwardly on all fours and began to crawl back to her Mistress.


Ted was still gasping in astonishment, as the magnificently endowed superheroine, so regal in her commanding presence, revered throughout the world as the ideal of mature dignity, abjectly presented the stick to the tiny girl, groveling with the air of a beaten dog desperately eager to please.



When 'Tramp' had presented the stick to her 'Mistress', Panthia picked up a can of sardines, kept handy for such occasions. As she opened the can, she explained.

"Yeah, we DO like t'reward them when they do something right, for a change!

As Panthia very well knew, Supergran detested sardines. Having to swallow one, made her nearly physically ill. Yet when, the evil girl waved it above her suffering face, she obediently begged for it.

“Hah! She's making some progress, anyway! She's getting that begging dog look down almost pat!”





When the sobbing Supergran had gagged down the repellent 'treat', Ted came over to get a closer look at Supergran's incredible, queenly proportions. Panthia looked on approvingly, as Ted inspected her 'pet'. He hefted one of the super-shapely dowager's huge, naked breasts, unable to believe it's bountiful magnitude. Supergran shrieked in shock.


Even a whipped dog has limits! Despite her incredible mouth-wateringly delectable endowments, naturally, in all her long crime-fighting career, no one EVER dared take such liberties with the awesome Matriarch of Might's otherwise irresistible, bodily charms. In her distress at being pawed and evaluated like a barnyard animal, Supergran forgot for a moment, that she was no longer the world's mightiest superheroine, universally respected as the dignified guardian of virtue and rectitude, but only a Banshee's abused slave slut. She had the temerity to indignantly slap Panthia's guest's hand away from her huge, buoyant bosom.

Ted pulled away in alarm, while Panthia snarled furiously at the transgression.


The harsh threat in Panthia's angry command, swiftly reminded the venerable Supergran of her very lowly, new status. She cringed in terror. What had she done?

Retribution was swift. Panthia kicked a large rubber ball from the corner, into the center of the room, and pointed to it.


Nearly hysterical in fear at her transgression, Supergran sobbed and pleaded frantically in terror, but nonetheless, she obediently settled herself atop the ball, so that her large, broad, plumply rounded backside was raised high, and well presented in all it's opulent splendor, to the tiny slip of a girl.



In order to let Supergran's terrified apprehension build, Panthia paused a moment, to explain to Ted.

"Yeah, this ball is handy! I used it when I stuck the dildo up Slut's backside! Slut's her daughter, the one they used to call Supermom! Boy, ya should'a heard HER holler and squeal! Being superheroines they never felt real pain, 'til they met Ma and me! They got a real low threshold to it! Makes them easier t'train, of course!"

Panthia picked up a glowing, green, riding quirt. "Kryptonite!" She informed Ted. "Ma managed to get some! Saves beating them by hand, and it really burns them, 'specially their big asses! Wait'll ya hear THIS one holler, now!"

Supergran was already hollering pretty loudly for forgiveness, and weeping uncontrollably.

"Oh no Mistress...(sob)... not that...not THAT... oh...(sob)...God help me...pleeeassee..."

The unfortunate matriarchal superheroine's hysterical, sobbing pleas were cut short by the first slash of the quirt across her broad, vulnerably upraised bottom.


As Supergran shrieked in agony, Panthia paused again, to tell Ted.

"Yeah we got this sharp pointed cone of this stuff too! Sometimes we perch them on it for the night! Y'know up their fat butts! Slut rode it last night! Lucky for us, their room is soundproofed, or we'd never have gotten any sleep, the way she screeched! Course Slutina was hollering pretty loud, too; she was hanging from the ceiling by her tits!"





As the bitterly sobbing Supergran stumbled to her feet, Panthia laid down her quirt. The tiny dominatrix looked up at the tall victim, and dragged Supergran's head down by a painful, demeaning grip on her ear, and whispered to her, how she was going to apologize to Ted, in expiation for her fit of pique.


Panthia pulled the sobbing, chastened superheroine over to her boyfriend.



Supergran miserably sank down on her knees in front of the grinning Ted. At a prompt from Panthia, her hands fluttering nervously, the chastened crimefighter blurted out the words of apology for her grievous transgression.


Panthia was still a little embarrassed by her 'pet's' rude behavior, and in order to make amends, made a generous offer.

"Ya want, the fat tart should give ya' a blow job? She needs the practice! We're training them t'be hookers, but, like I said before, they're awful slow learners! Ya saw that yourself!"

"WOW! SURE! Er, that is, if its okay with you, Babe?"

"Yeah sure! No problem!" Panthia replied, thinking. "He's always wantin' me to do it for him, and that sure ain't gonna happen!"

Ted climbed up on a hassock. The Banshees had been training the three superheroines to suck dildos, among other new skills they never contemplated learning, so the sobbing Supergran knew what was expected of her.

The huge, naked woman, oft admired as the queenly epitome of dignity, abjectly crouched down in front of Ted, and with a sob of embarrassment, opened his fly with trembling, uncertain fingers. His large member sprung out eagerly. Gagging in disgust and shame, Supergran slid the penis past her quivering, reluctant lips. It filled her mouth, and slid into her throat, nearly choking her.

Despite her distress and disgust, fearing another beating, the venerable Grande Dame did her best to satisfy the young ne'er-do-well. Oh how could a virtuous, renowned Champion of Justice be brought so low?


When Ted had come in her mouth, and was doing up his trousers, the nauseated Supergran was near vomiting, but Panthia reminded her of her training in the proper etiquette of servicing clients.


Despite being accorded the rare, in fact entirely unique and first ever, privilege of oral sex from the world's most renowned Superheroine, Ted left Panthia's home with some disquiet. Next morning, he went to an Army recruiting office and enlisted. Discretion was the better part of valor. It might be safer fighting terrorists in Afghanistan, than having a girlfriend who beat up superheroines, and kept them as abused pets.

Panthia accepted the patriotic sacrifice complacently; after all, she had other interests. She enjoyed experimenting with her unfortunate pets. One afternoon, experimenting with Kryptonite and the branding iron she had purchased at a dude ranch the year before, she made an exciting discovery.


"Ya know how their skin can't be burned or scarred?  Well watch what happens when I hold this Kryptonite ya got, near her, and then use my branding iron!"




Meroe was understandingly concerned that badly scarred superheroines might not fetch as high a price, in the 'escort' market, but her daughter reassured her.



Panthia took the Kryptonite to the other side of the room, as her mother anxiously inspected the sobbing Supergran's wounded haunch. To Meroe's relief, and delight, the angry scarlet brand quickly faded away in the absence of the dreaded substance. When Meroe decided to try herself, the horrified Supergran squalled in misery. 



"Sure Ma! Knew y'd like it! Let me reheat the branding iron though, might be cooling off a little!"

As the wretched Supergran trembled in terrified apprehension, Panthia heated the iron until it was white hot, before handing it to her eagerly waiting mother.

Meroe laid the Kryptonite at Supergran's feet, and then used both hands to apply the scorching hot brand to the victim's massive, butt cheek, with such force that it raised the shrieking Matriarch of Might up on her toes, and almost off the floor.


In terrible anguish, Supergran fell to her knees, hardly able to bear the searing pain in her enormous, curvaceously voluptuous, behind.


Meroe handed the branding iron back to her daughter. Without even pausing to remove the Kryptonite, so her victim's scorched buttock could heal, Panthia's cruel greedy eyes fell upon Supergran's massively regal bust.






Seeing the look of desperation in Supergran's eyes, Meroe decided the venerable heroine might have temporarily reached the limit of her endurance.  Rather than risk a valuable property, it might be best to give her some respite.

"Better let her alone a few minutes, Dear! Get the other two bimbos out, and we'll practice on them awhile!" She told her daughter.

When Panthia brought out Supermom and Superlass, Meroe chortled "Well which one of you wants to give the old goat a break?"

Seeing the terrible suffering inflicted on Supergran, there was a moment's hesitation. The terrified Superlass tried to speak, but  the huge lump in her throat silenced her tongue. Finally Supermom despairingly whimpered.

"T-take me... (sob)..."


Meroe's sharp eye missed little. She'd seen Superlass's terrified reluctance, and as Panthia prepared to blister Supermom's marvelous backside, the older Banshee taunted Superlass, adding to her already shameful guilt.




When Panthia had branded Supermom, Meroe took the iron back, and ordered Superlass to lean over. Terrified as the young superheroine was, at the prospect of the horrendous pain, she was even more terrified of Meroe, and obediently leaned over, presenting her pert, delectable behind.




Superlass collapsed on all fours, hardly able to endure the frightful torment.


At dinnertime, the merciless Banshees concluded their experiments. Mighty Supergran, who had been repeatedly branded throughout the afternoon, and in conclusion, branded on both of her enormous buttocks, was sobbing with the brokenhearted whimpers of an abused child, her face buried in her hands. Stalwart Supermom was wailing inconsolably at the excruciating pain in her delectable derriere, and the hapless Superlass, howling in anguish, was hopping from foot to foot  to ease the frightful distress in her sprightly behind.


Have the wicked Banshees succeeded? Will the mighty Kryptonian paragons of virtue resign themselves to a life of SHAME?

Our story concludes in "In The Trade"