top of page
Search

life of a reluctant superheroine

Dareen found herself standing on a cold concrete floor in the middle of a semi-circle of white men. There was nothing in the room except for a rolled-up garden hose attached to a faucet in the corner. They were all waiting, though Dareen did not know for what. The men looked with poker faces at her naked features, eyes resting most naturally on her breasts that seemed to stick into their faces. She was notable not only for being naked and the only female, but for having skin far browner than anyone else’s. Almost as if she was an alien from another planet, from a race of naked, brown-skinned creatures with outsized breasts, now the subject of their intense scientific study. She resisted the strong urge to cover her breasts and crotch with her hands.

A man in a white lab coat came in with a bucket of liquid and a long scrub brush. Dareen could guess what that was for -- they wanted to scrub off that stuff that Novotny had sprayed onto her. Her heart sank as she guessed that she was going to be scrubbed in full view of these men. Well, let’s get it over with, she said to herself.

But no. Mr. Nedrow chatted with the man in the lab coat. If Novotny was monitoring the substance, he would probably know when it was rinsed off and that would reveal the location of this facility. To Dareen’s disappointment it was decided to get back in the plane and scrub her off at a different location. Up the elevator, out to the plane, this time the dirt sticking to Dareen’s feet even more because it had begun to drizzle.

The airplane droned off, the passengers silent, including the nude female who squirmed at not being able to wipe off her muddy feet. It was freezing in the cabin, as anyone could tell from the goose bumps on Dareen and her hugely erect nipples.

This pilot hardly needed runways, it seemed; he was expert at landing on straight dirt roads. This one ended at what looked like a deserted firehouse, though it was odd that there would be one out here, the only building in this lonely area. It was now raining pretty heavily. Oddly there were umbrellas in the plane and the men opened them up and walked under them as they escorted Dareen along the gravel path up some cracked stairs to the ruined concrete floor of a long-razed building. Dareen was not given an umbrella, her hair and everything else got drenched, but that was not really a surprise given that she was about to be scrubbed down anyway. Still, she felt pretty miserable, picturing what it must look like, these professional and well-dressed men walking along with a drenched, nude woman, her bare feet squishing in the mud. Though in fact, the sight of the rain coursing from her hair down her brown curves and her sleek legs was quite arresting to the average man.


The rain came down harder now. Mr. Nedrow had to speak up to be heard over the loud shower. He explained that it would be easier to scrub her if she was on all fours. She obediently got down and looked down at the stones and chips of cement with as deadpan an expression as she could manage. Meanwhile the man in the lab coat poured some of the special liquid out of the pail onto her back, then scrubbed. He began on top and then bent over as he reached underneath to get up at her concave tummy and then the long-handled brush pushed and pulled at her breasts as they sought to get every little bit of skin surface. The brush was soft and fluffy but his strokes were firm. The men watched as Dareen’s canteloupe-sized breasts, hanging down, tightly wobbled to and fro under his ministrations. Meanwhile the rain hit her back and ran down past her thighs and arms to where her hands and knees were resting uncomfortably on the rock-strewn surface.

The men watched intently as the scrub brush took care of every part of her. After the brush was dunked a few more times in the pail she heeded the instruction to lift her face. With her closed eyes she looked like she was praying in the rain; then her face was invaded by the brush. Now the neck and upper chest, then the arms. The man in the lab coat then walked around to the other end. Her buttocks were scrubbed, then down the backs of her thighs, then her soles, finally rinsing away the mud. She flinched as the brush slid down between her buttocks, several brisk strokes sawing up and down as if her butt crack was being flossed.


She was told to stand up and, as the men watched even more intently from under their umbrellas, she followed the instruction to arch open her legs and spread apart her lower lips. As the brush diligently rasped up and down within her, unavoidably passing over her clitoris again and again, her eyes looked up far away to the hills, with thoughts that could only be guessed at. One foot was extended forward, then the other, the man holding each foot up by the heel as he scrubbed her soles and then between her toes. Finally she was made to turn around and bend over and spread her buttocks “wider, please” as her anal area was scrubbed and scrubbed. At the end of which the man looked carefully at the displayed nether opening, scrub brush in his hand. He asked her to stick her butt out further as the men watched. They could see every little detail of the wide valley in which her anus lay, suds and rain sliding past. Her anus winked at them, the flexing of her internal muscles being the only sign of her unease. Deciding that he had caught everything, the man with the brush said thank you and told Dareen to turn back around.

Finally the remaining contents of the pail were poured over her head. They coursed down her nude body, joining the rain. Their combined forces caused little spouts of water to run off her huge brown nipples in little arcs. After a few moments, Mr. Nedrow said, again loudly over the rain, “Thank you, Ms. Alkaras. We have managed to rinse off the monitoring fluid. Our friend underestimates us, I think.”

30 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

“Throaters” v. “Plungers”

Angela supposed she should be admiring the virtuosity of these two girls. “Throaters” and “Plungers” each had an online page on which they discussed the most effective techniques in bringing the Sire

memos

Dr. Horok assures me that D.’s nipples are in no danger.  She appears to be in pain when the weights are put on but that is simply due to shame and shock.  She can handle 150g per nipple if she is wor

Tami finally has had enough

Tami exhaled deeply before opening the big entrance door. At least she knew Wanda was not in charge here. The Institute might be big and old and creepy and insensitive, but at least it was not evil.

Comments


bottom of page