Breaking the Groom

A Super-Femdom Fantasy
By G. F. Savidge
Copyright 2018 G. F. Savidge
Smashwords Edition
Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, locations, and events in
this book are fictional or used in a fantastical way to entertain. Any resemblance
to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

This story is a work of fiction and fantasy. It cannot and should not be imitated.
Always follow safe, sane, and consensual BDSM practices.

The author cannot be held liable for activities based on or derived as a result of
this story.

Be smart and safe.

BREAKING THE GROOM: A SUPER-FEMDOM FANTASY

By G. F. Savidge
Copyright 2018 by G. F. Savidge

A Castem Press book.

www.castempress.com.
For My Super-Bride

One: Objection

My wedding day goes to crap as I’m about to say “I do.”

With a sudden roar of hurricane-force wind, the church roof peels away and
disintegrates. A woman in a skintight purple and white jumpsuit hovers in mid-air:
my ex-girlfriend, Valeria. She purses her lips and blows me a kiss.
Etiquette question: at what point in an engagement should you tell your fiancée you
used to date a supervillain? Before the church your fiancée’s family has attended
for a hundred years is torn to pieces? Perhaps.
Valeria lands with enough force to shatter the slabs of the old stone floor. The
front row of Janice’s friends and family are pelted with razor-sharp shards flying
as fast as bullets. Two of the uncles draw semi-automatics and return fire. We
asked them not to bring guns to the wedding, but it’s no surprise they ignored us.
I think they’d die if separated from their weapons for even a second.
Against Valeria’s bulletproof body, wrapped in a honeycomb-woven blend of Lycra,
latex, and Kevlar, they might as well flick spitballs at an armored car. Valeria
puts her hands on her hips and gives them a stationary target: she loves to show
off her invulnerability.
Father Green goes down, felled by a ricochet. Blood blooms on his white cassock. My
best man takes shrapnel to the arm and runs away.
Valeria returns fire with searing beams of heat vision. She slices though the
uncles’ wrists - intense heat cauterizes the wounds. Their hands hit the floor with
guns still gripped.
Valeria has crashed my wedding in style.
“You didn’t ask if anyone had reason to object,” says Valeria. “Is that just in the
movies?”
Janice marches up to her, a tower of rage in ivory silk and lace. “Who the hell are
you?”
Valeria slaps Janice with the back of her hand. My bride-to-be flies through a
stained-glass window depicting the story of the Good Samaritan. “I’m the other
woman.”
“What are you doing?” I scream. “This is my wedding.”
“Stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
She puts an arm around my waist and - with a mighty leap - rockets us through the
empty space where the roof used to be. The ground recedes beneath us. We’re moving
too fast for my stomach, already nervous about the wedding, to handle.
“Slow down, I’m going to throw up.”
“Save your breath,” says Valeria. “The air’s about to get real thin.”
I pass out.
*****
I wake, swaddled in high thread-count sheets on a heart-shaped bed. Valeria’s on
her side, watching me. I’d forgotten how insanely sexy she is, but having her this
close to me, wrapped in a thin suit that clings to every curve like a second skin,
brings it all back. Most of it goes straight to my penis. I fight back arousal with
mixed results.
“Hey, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”
“Like my head’s full of angry cotton wool.” Harsh sun streams through a curved wall
of glass looking out over mountain peaks. We must be in one of Valeria’s secret
lairs.
“Sorry. I tried to stay under five thousand feet, but I ran into some anti-air
missiles over China.” She strokes my short hair with a gloved hand. “I love you,”
she says.
There’s an awkward pause when I don’t say it back.
She strokes my dick and all hope of avoiding arousal disappears at the first touch.
“At least part of you is pleased to see me.”
“It’s been three years,” I say. “I didn’t think you were going to get out of
UltraMax.”
“They locked me up and threw away the key, but I have a friend who’s good with
locks.”
I try to pull her hand away from my dick, but she’s thousands of times stronger
than me. “You’ve been given a second chance.”
Her laugh has a hysterical edge. “A second chance to make those sons of bitches pay
for stealing three years of my life.”
“They’ll send you back to UltraMax.”
“They might be too busy with me killing them to worry about that.” She shakes her
head like a wet dog. “I don’t want to talk about those fuckers, I want to talk
about us.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m with Janice now.”
“Janice.” A fleck of spittle lands on my forehead. “Who the hell is Janice?”
“She’s nice. We met through-” I’m not going to tell her that Janice was my handler
in witness protection. “-work.”
Valeria snorts. She backflips and strikes a pose at the foot of the bed. “I’m
beautiful, I’m funny, and I can fly. What’s she got that I haven’t?”
“I love her.”
“Cassandra will fix that.”
“Who?”
*****
Cassandra is a short, blue-haired woman in a white lab coat. Her domain is a
laboratory stocked with unrecognizable equipment, dangerous chemicals, and glowing
devices. Everything is organized neatly on stainless steel shelves.
In the center of the lab, surrounded by video monitors and diagnostic equipment, is
a gunmetal blue chair. It looks like the one piece of furniture a dentist’s office
and an execution chamber could agree on. A menacing array of robot arms hold
syringes full of bright liquids.
“Are we ready?” asks Valeria.
“All set,” says Cassandra. Her tone is bubbly, excited.
Valeria rips away the sheet I’ve been using to preserve my modesty.
“Hey!”
Valeria strokes my cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Cassie and I don’t have any
secrets.”
She drags me to the blue chair and forces me down. Cassandra secures my wrists and
ankles with looped metal restraints. She pulls steel bands around my chest and
waist that force me to sit straight against the back of the chair.
“Good posture is important,” says Cassandra. “You’ll be in that chair for a while.”
“What’s going on?”
Valeria lowers a tight-fitting metal bowl onto the back of my skull. “Don’t worry
sweetie. Cassandra is just going to adjust some of your opinions. No big deal.”
“Not a full brainwashing,” says Cassandra. “It’s a modified Ludivico to induce
negative feelings towards your ex-fiancée.”
“AKA Janice the man-stealing bitch,” says Valeria.
I struggle at my restraints, but I’m not going anywhere. “Please, Val, don’t do
this.”
“You’re going to want to sit still for the next bit,” says Cassandra. “Unless you
like having your eyeballs gouged out.”
Cassandra pulls a thick leather strap across my mouth - it serves double duty as
head restraint and gag. Metal fingers tipped with tiny claws swing into position
around the edge of my eyes. They grip and pull my eyelids back to expose my
eyeballs. I can’t help but look straight ahead.
“We need a baseline reading,” says Cassandra.
A video monitor comes alive. It shows a beautiful slideshow of Janice: happy,
laughing, enjoying life, kissing me, playing with a kitten. She’s a wonderful
woman.
“Positive emotions,” says Cassandra. “I’d say he loves her.”
Valeria snorts. “He thinks he loves her. Poor baby. Start the procedure.”
*****
A robot arm swings across and injects a dose of red liquid into my scrotum. My dick
swells to painful erection, straining against the skin like a pig in a blanket.
Metal spheres clamp around my balls and a heavy cylinder lined with well-lubricated
silicone slides over my dick. I gasp as it wraps my dick in tight, stimulating
comfort.
The slideshow on the monitor changes. It’s still Janice but in a less flattering
light. A rapid-cut sequence of unpleasant photographs: angry, scolding, sneering,
eating a baby, lording it over the depths of hell with a pitchfork. I’m pretty sure
some of them are photo-shopped.
Music plays: hateful, auto-tuned pop with too much bass, too loud, on a two-minute
loop. Beneath the music is words, whispered at the edge of audibility. I can make
out “Hate,” “Fear,” and “Disgust.”
The metal spheres around my balls deliver electric shocks every few seconds on an
unpredictable schedule. It’s painful, but not agonizingly so. I try to cry out for
them to stop, but all I do is coat the inside of the gag with saliva.
Valeria has a look of concern and curiosity on her face. Cassandra scurries around
adjusting dials and examining readouts.
The cylinder begins to massage my dick. I focus on the pleasant sensations of
arousal to distract myself from everything else. It doesn’t take long for me to
reach the point of climax. I brace myself for release, but the expected orgasm
doesn’t happen. Instead, my arousal continues to build under the assault of
constant, wonderful stimulation. At first, it’s amazing, but with release
constantly denied, it curdles from pleasure to frustration. The frustration doesn’t
stop, it keeps climbing. I had no idea my dick was capable of feeling so aroused
and so desperate.
“How long is this going to take?” asks Valeria.
“Three days at least.”
I want to scream. It’s been less than half an hour and I already want to die.
“Let’s grab a bite,” says Valeria. “You in the mood for sushi?”
Cassandra nods. “I’ll prep the scramjet.” She disappears in a flash of white light,
like an old-fashioned television turning off.
Valeria gives me a kiss on the cheek and flies away, leaving me trapped in hell.
Two: Rejection

I don’t know how long they subject me to the modified Ludivico, but I bet it’s more
than three days. They give me brief rest periods, during which I sometimes grab a
few minutes of fidgety sleep, punctuated by screaming nightmares of a demonic
Janice.
The tease and denial are the worst. The drug they gave me not only blocks my
orgasms, but also increases the sensitivity of my dick by several orders of
magnitude. Even if I could release my frustration with masturbation, the slightest
touch on my over-stimulated cock and fried blue balls is agony. I’d be okay with
them doubling the current of the electric shocks they’re pumping into my testicles
if they’d just leave my dick alone. Instead, they keep grinding me up against the
edge of an orgasm I can never reach.
Cassandra tests my reaction to the slideshow of “good” Janice after every session.
Eventually, she declares my reactions to be “fear, revulsion, and hatred.” I
couldn’t bear to be close to Janice, let alone be married to the evil hag.
“Well done, sweetie,” says Valeria. “You’re so brave. You’re halfway done. Now it’s
my turn.”
I can’t believe they’re going to put me through more of this torture.
“Baseline,” says Cassandra.
Valeria is wearing a black one-piece swimsuit with a plunging neckline. She bends
toward me like a pin-up model, framing the cleavage between her firm round tits
with her arms. She blows me a kiss.
“Fear and hatred,” says Cassandra. “Some arousal - he’s only human - but he doesn’t
love you.”
“Residual effects from the Ludivico?”
Cassandra shrugs. “Doubtful.”
Valeria removes the leather gag. “Why don’t you love me?”
“Apart from the fact you’ve tortured me for days?”
“Brainwashed,” says Cassandra. “It’s quite different.”
“Look at me,” says Valeria. “I’m the perfect woman. How could you not want to be
with me?”
“You ruined my wedding and put my fiancée in the hospital.”
Valeria tilts her head. “Hospital? I hit her pretty hard. I doubt she’s alive.”
“The guy’s an idiot,” says Cassandra. “Can I just wipe his brain?”
“He’s an idiot I’m in love with. A brain wipe is the last resort - try the inverted
modified Ludovico.”
Cassandra puts the leather gag back over my mouth. “Don’t get your hopes up.
Attraction is much harder to induce than repulsion.”
The robot arm injects a dose of blue liquid into my scrotum. A sensation of calm
and well-being floods through me, and my erection eases from painful to merely
full.
The monitor shows a slideshow of Valeria: laughing, happy, thoughtful, affection,
and vivacious. She’s beautiful in cocktail dresses, swimwear, lingerie, her
costume, and naked. Music starts again, but this time it’s a well-curated playlist
of my favorite artists. No repeats and no duds.
The whispered words under the music have changed to: “love,” “honor,” and “obey.”
The teaser slides over my dick and resumes its erotic massage. After days of
frustration, it takes only a few seconds to reach a climax, and this time nothing
stops me. A massive spasm of thick semen spurts across the lab.
“Yuck,” says Cassandra. “I preferred the other way.”
The teaser rests for a few minutes before it starts again. My second orgasm takes
longer to arrive, but it’s even bigger and better than the first. I’m in heaven.
It’s obvious Valeria wants me to associate these pleasant sensations with her, the
way they had me associate torture with Janice.
If this is how they plan to brainwash me into loving Valeria, I don’t see how I’m
going to be able to resist.
*****
They work me over with positive reinforcement until I reach the point where I’d die
for Valeria. I love her, adore the ground she floats above, and want to be with her
more than anything. She’s a goddess.
So I’m surprised when Cassandra tells Valeria it’s not working. “He still fears
you. There’s no love here.”
“Something is blocking him,” says Valeria. “The Feds did some brainwashing of their
own, I’m sure of it. Continue the procedure - break him with my love.”
“As you command.” Cassandra’s smile is as sharp and thin as a razor blade.
My balls are dry after so many orgasms, but the teaser keeps making me come. Each
climax is more strained than the one before. Again, my pleasure becomes pain. I
dread the next climax almost as much as I did the constant frustration of the
previous regimen.
The positive reinforcement is ground away as the teaser pulls more dry orgasms from
my ravaged cock. I hate Valeria more than I did when this started. I think
Cassandra is sabotaging the positive reinforcement on purpose.
*****
“Have you ever been hypnotized?” asks Cassandra.
I shake my head.
Valeria pats my hand. “Relax, you’ll be fine. I want to find out why the affection
therapy isn’t working, so we’re going to put you under and ask a few questions.”
I shake my head with more vigor. There are some questions I don’t want her to know
the answers to.
The monitor displays a swirling green and yellow spiral as Cassandra injects
something into my arm. “To induce suggestibility.” She lulls me into a state of
deep relaxation with a calm, soothing tone.
I don’t really believe in hypnosis, but I will admit I’m paying closer attention to
her words than I ever have before. I drift into something like a trance and the
questions begin. I tell the truth.
“Do you love Valeria?”
“No, I do not.”
Valeria gives a combination gasp and sob.
“Why don’t you love Valeria?”
“She’s a cruel, violent, unstable psychopath.”
“Is that true?” Valeria asks Cassandra.
“Diagnostically speaking,” says Cassandra, “you do not meet all the criteria for
psychopathy. You’re a narcissist with homicidal tendencies.”
“Sweet.”
Cassandra returns her attention to me. “How did the authorities discover Valeria’s
secret identity?”
“I told them.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I was terrified of her and I wanted her out of my life.”
Valeria’s slap is like a hammer blow against my cheek. “You little shit.”
“Did they brainwash you, torture you, or offer any inducements for your betrayal?”
asks Cassandra.
“No. I sold her out of my own free will.”
Valeria runs out of the lab, crying.
Cassandra leans in close. “You’re fucked now, buddy.”
She takes me deeper into the trance until I lose awareness of my surroundings.

Three: Punishment

“…and wake,” says Cassandra.

I blink and the room comes into focus. Good news: I’m out of the brainwashing
chair. Bad news: I’m strapped to a semi-circular arch of nails. My outstretched
arms are shackled at one end, my ankles at the other. My crotch sits at the apex of
the curve, thrusting up. The nails beneath me aren’t sharp enough to break my skin
with only my own weight pushing down on them,
Cassandra injects a dose of green liquid into my scrotum. My dick becomes erect but
numb.
Valeria hovers next to me, legs crossed beneath her. Her expression is as cold and
numb as my penis. “Do you know how they treat Class-A superhumans in UltraMax?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for selling me out, or sorry for getting caught? I thought you loved me.”
“I never said…”
“You didn’t have to, or so I thought. So, what was I to you? A trophy, a notch on
the bedpost?”
“When you told me you had a secret I thought it was an addiction or a crazy
relative, not that you once destroyed Cleveland.”
She puts one hand around my throat like an industrial vice and pushes my head back
against the bed of nails. “I could kill you with less effort than stepping on an
ant. A squeeze of the throat, a twist of the neck, or a snap of the spine. I could
tear you in half and scatter you across the mountain for the yetis.
“Do you know why I don’t?”
With her hand around my throat, I couldn’t answer if I wanted to.
“Because I want you to suffer as I’ve suffered. Congratulations, you managed to
break the bulletproof woman’s heart. I’m going to break a lot more of you than
that. You have a nice body, I’m going to put it to good use before I dispose of
it.”
“I still think this is a bad idea,” says Cassandra. “Let me brain wipe him.”
“If I do that, then it won’t be him that suffers.”
“Fine, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know when it’s time to dispose of the scraps.”
She disappears in a flash of white light.
Valeria unzips her bodysuit and peels it off - she’s not wearing anything
underneath. Her tits stand firm without support - a result of superpowers rather
than plastic surgery. “You made me feel like a fool and now you’re going to help
ease some of the frustration of those three lonely years.”
She floats up and lowers herself onto me, taking my stiff dick inside her warm,
moist pussy. She squeezes her Kegel muscles and I gasp with surprise and pain.
“You like that? I could crush your cock to a sticky paste. Maybe when I’m done, I
will.”
She wraps her legs around and under the arch of spikes and grinds down on me. The
nails press into my ass and thighs, breaking the skin and digging deep into flesh.
She fucks me with a slow, powerful rhythm, each thrust pushing the nails further
in.
I cry out. But with every scream, her smile widens and she fucks me a little
harder. I try to hold back, but the pain is too much.
Her first orgasm happens so quickly, it seems to take both of us by surprise. As
she yells in ecstasy, her out-of-control pelvis slams into me harder than ever,
driving the nails into bone.
“I can’t make you love me,” she says, “so I’m going to use you, break you, and
discard you. It’s what you did to me.”
“Please. If you ever loved me, stop. You’re killing me.”
Her laugh is tight and bitter. “That’s all I’m good for, isn’t it? Killing. I’m a
killer. You turned on me because you couldn’t see the woman inside the
supervillain.”
“I turned on you because you’re dangerous.”
“You have no fucking idea.”
The green drug has not only blocked my orgasms, but it’s also made my dick numb to
pleasure. I still feel pain, but I don’t even get the teasing frustration of
denial. I might as well be a rubber sex toy.
She grinds out two more orgasms on my hard, unfeeling dick. It’s like I’m in a
medieval torture device, pressed between the relentless crush of her super-strong
body and the bed of spikes.
“How you doing?” she asks.
“Please stop.”
She tilts her head. “No.”
She pulls a nail from the bed and squashes it to a flat disk between thumb and
forefinger. With a fingernail, she carves out a perfect letter ‘V’. She fires a
thin beam of heat vision and brings the metal to red hot.
She slaps the disk on my chest, branding me with her initial. “You belong to me.”
She purses her lips and blows a stream of ice-cold breath over the burned flesh.
“If you’re good, I won’t have to brand your balls as well.”
She floats up and releases my dick from the tight grasp of her pussy. She lowers
herself onto my face, pushing hard against my mouth and jaw. “Eat me out.”
I hesitate for a moment. I might be helpless to stop her using me as a human dildo,
but I can choose what I do with my tongue. My left testicle explodes in burning
agony as she pushes the hot metal brand into it. My screams are muffled inside her,
and I taste immediate arousal.
“I said, eat me out.”
I’m weeping as I service her. Valeria’s warmed herself up on my dick, and it
doesn’t take long for my teasing tongue to bring her to orgasm. She moans and
grinds against my face until the spikes pierce my scalp and press hard against my
skull. She ripples with pleasure through a series of aftershocks, and I rest my
tongue.
There’s the steam-like hiss of heat vision and a moment later my other ball burns
as she presses her brand into it. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”
Burned, impaled, broken, and smothered, my scream brings her to immediate orgasm -
her most intense yet. She brands the inside of my thigh. I try to hold back - if my
screams turn her on, I can’t afford to let them out, but the pain is too much. As I
roar with agony into her soaking wet pussy, she comes twice more in quick
succession.
“That was fucking amazing.”
My skull feels like it’s cracked in a dozen places. She’s one hard thrust from
lobotomizing me. At this point, I’d be happy to receive the sweet embrace of death,
but she pulls back before that happens.
“Get your tongue moving.”
I do as I’m told.
Blessed with super-stamina, Valeria doesn’t tire or break a sweat as I pleasure her
for hours. She alternates between letting my tongue do the work and getting off on
my screams as she tortures my flesh. Her orgasms become a constant wave, one
rolling into the next. Her screams are even louder than mine but of pleasure
instead of torment.
I pass out and regain consciousness with a violent, nauseating start as Valeria
injects something into my neck. I’m alert and edgy from the drug, but the muscles
in my jaw are spent and my tongue has been scraped raw against her invulnerable
clitoris.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
I don’t test her patience. She fingers herself as I work my tongue back into her
pussy. The ensuing orgasm snaps my jaw, but she won’t accept that as an excuse to
pause my service. I push through, tears mixed with her juices streaming down my
face, and I pray for death.
*****
Through the all-consuming pain, it takes a few minutes to notice when Valeria
releases me from the prison of her legs. I have a second of relief before I’m
sprayed down with ice-cold water. My diluted blood swirls down a drain set into the
concrete floor. I lie, helpless, on the arch of nails, impaled on a thousand
spikes.
I’m sure I’m going to die in this room. All because three years ago, I bought a
drink for a beautiful woman in a bar. I had no idea she was there to case the bank
across the street. She liked the look of me, we got to talking. We slept together
on our second date. Now, she’s going to kill me.
Cassandra leans over. “You survived. Val owes me twenty bucks.”
I try to respond with sarcasm, but my face explodes with pain when I try to speak.
Everything is broken.
“Let’s get you patched up.”
She undoes the shackles and helps me peel myself off the spikes. My wounds re-open
as the nails pop out, but she sprays me with an aerosol that stops the worst of the
bleeding and dulls the pain.
She leads me down a glass and brushed steel corridor to a medical lab. I lie on a
metal table and relish the cold smoothness. A dome of translucent greet energy
folds over me and fills with a purple gas. Euphoria takes hold of me before I lose
consciousness.
*****
I wake in Valeria’s bed. I’m sore, but I’m no longer in so much pain I wish I were
dead. The purple mist has healed the damage to my body. Valeria can take me out for
another ride around the block.
She lies on her side next to me with a concerned expression. “I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t expecting that. “Sorry?”
She strokes my arm. “I lost my temper and acted out. I overreacted.”
“You nearly fucked me to death.”
She nods. “And as enjoyable as that was, I see now it was wrong. I was holding you
to too high a standard. When you betrayed me-” Her hands tighten into hard fists at
the ‘b’ word, “-it was the panicked reaction of a weak man. Only one of us in this
relationship is superhuman.”
God, she thinks of this as a relationship. “You’re not going to let me go, are
you?”
“No. I love you and I want us to find a way we can be together.”
“You tortured me. How can you possibly say you love me?”
She gives me a wry half-smile. “You always hurt the one you love.”
“I don’t think that was meant to be relationship advice.”
She looks like she’s about to cry. “You don’t love me.”
“No shit.”
“I’m going to keep you here, but I can’t trust you as long as you don’t love me.”
“Who gives a crap? It’s not like I can hurt you, and I don’t even know where we
are, so I can’t drop a dime on you.”
She laughs. “Colorful. You can hurt me with your words, and as long as you’re like
this you will. Cassandra is going to wipe your mind - erase your personality - and
replace it with one that’s more compliant and loving.”
“You love me, so you’re going to change me completely?”
“I’m being realistic. I love your body and I love when you do as you’re told. I’m
going to keep those things and discard everything else.”
I spit, hitting her between the eyes. “You’re a bitch.”
She wipes the saliva away. “That kind of abusive language is why you have to die.”
“I thought you were just going to give me a new personality, not kill me?”
“Same difference. Your old consciousness will die as part of the brain wipe. The
“you” that’s talking now, will be gone, and a new man will inhabit your mind.”
“I don’t want to die.”
“No shit.”
*****
They strap me into the brainwashing chair again, but this time there is no audio-
visual performance. Cassandra places a silver sphere over my head - the soft
material envelops me completely. I barely hear when she says, “This is going to
hurt a lot.”
Strips like apple peel are torn from my mind. One after the other, my memories are
taken from me: I don’t know where I grew up, what my middle name is, or who my
first kiss was with. Skills and knowledge are ripped out of me: I don’t know how to
play chess or remember the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow. My emotions
are the last to go, spiraling away to nothing like water down a drain: I don’t know
if I love or hate Valeria, or even if I like butter.
In the end, all that’s left is a tiny, irreducible “I”, floating in the middle of
an empty sphere.
I think.
I am.
I’m gone.

Four: A New You

With an inverted spiral of bright green light, the sound of rain on a hot pavement,
and the smell of boiling maple syrup, my consciousness returns. I’m still alive.
I’m aware of my surroundings.
I’m in Valeria’s bed, snuggled against her naked body, held tight in her mighty
arms. Moonlight streams through the window, casting silver highlights dancing
across her pitch-black hair.
“I love you,” she says.
I stroke her hair. “I love you, too.”
I didn’t say that. The words came out of my mouth, but not because I wanted them
to. I didn’t stroke her hair, either. My hands did, and I felt the silky strands
beneath my fingers, but I didn’t initiate the action.
My senses all work. I look deep into her violet eyes when she leans in to kiss me.
I feel her moist lips, smell her pine-like scent, and hear her moans of pleasure.
When her probing tongue accidentally knocks one of my teeth out, I feel the pain
and taste the metal tang of blood in my mouth. But I have no control over anything
I do: I’m a passenger in my own body, forced to experience what someone else is
doing.
Valeria sighs with arousal. “Cowboy up.”
In an instant, my dick is rock-hard, straining at the seams. Valeria flips me on my
back and impales herself on me. She rides me to a quick orgasm - hers, not mine.
There’s an unbreakable orgasm block in me that I can’t get past, no matter how
stimulated and aroused I am. Frustration builds as she grinds me against the hard
edge of climax. I cry out in pleasure: it’s torturous for me, but the new
personality in charge of my body enjoys it.
She fucks me for another hour, battering and bruising my body in pursuit of her own
pleasure. We fuck in several different positions - each of which she commands from
me with a different phrase. I’ve been programmed to please her. After each orgasm,
she takes a break to write a few words in a notebook.
When she’s done with my dick, she lies on her back. “Talk to me.”
I go down on her and eat her pussy out with vigor. She squeezes her thighs tight
around my neck and shoulders. She shatters my collarbone during her third orgasm.
“At attention,” she says.
I roll away from her and stand by the side of the bed, hands crossed behind my
back. My erect cock sticks out like a flagpole.
“Release pressure,” she says.
Semen dribbles from the end of my dick in a slow stream. It’s more like urinating
than having an orgasm, but the end result is the same. I’m flaccid and drained but
without the explosive pleasure of a climax.
Valeria examines the small pool of semen at my feet. “Lap it up,” she says.
The thought of licking up my own cold semen disgusts me, but I don’t hesitate to do
as I’m told. Like a cat with a saucer of cream, I clean my seed from the hardwood
floor with my tongue.
“Snuggles,” she says.
I enthusiastically leap back into bed and cuddle.
“Go to sleep.”
I obey. Dreams from both personalities overlap while I sleep. Mine are nightmares
of being torn to shreds by Valeria in pursuit of bigger and bigger orgasms. The
other me has simple fantasies where he takes joy from serving his mistress.
*****
“How did he perform?” asks Cassandra.
I’m in one of the labs, spreadeagled on an X-shaped cross like Da Vinci’s Vitruvian
Man.
Valeria hands the notebook to Cassandra. “He was adequate.”
I experience two sets of emotions. Outwardly, I’m distraught at having disappointed
Valeria. Inwardly, I’m angry: I thought I was fucking amazing.
“He’s not hungry enough,” says Valeria. “When he eats me out, I want to feel he
can’t live without the taste of my pussy. Also, his technique is too stiff and
mechanical. He’s too much like a sex toy and not enough like a man.”
“I can fix that,” says Cassandra. “I’ll have him panting to rock your world by the
end of the day. Is he injured badly?”
“Who cares? Just patch him up. By the way, his strength and stamina are pretty
pathetic.”
Cassandra runs her hands down my torso, feeling for breaks and bruises. “I’ll put
him on strength and flexibility regimens as well. Do you have any objection to
artificial enhancements?”
“Not in the slightest.” Valeria flies away to attend to the day’s villainous
agenda.
“Hello,” says Cassandra. “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re still alive.” She’s
talking to me - the me that has no control over anything but my own thoughts.
Valeria said the brain wipe would kill me. Was she lying, mistaken, or misled?
“You have me to thank for that. Valeria’s little pet doesn’t take up a lot of room,
so I left you inside as well. She doesn’t know.”
If Cassandra is working behind Valeria’s back, maybe I have a chance of getting out
of this. For the first time since Valeria snatched me away from my own wedding, I
have hope.
“I want you to suffer,” says Cassandra. “I want you to feel every bone she breaks,
every muscle she tears, every bruise she pounds into your sorry flesh, every
humiliation she piles upon you, while the man in charge of your body smiles and
asks for more.
“You don’t deserve her love, and I don’t want you to ever forget it. Now, let’s get
you ready to be her plaything. Loser.”
So much for hope.
*****
My life settles into the routine of a chaste, obedient sex-slave to a superwoman.
Valeria fucks me every night and more.
She fucks me on the sheer face of the second-highest mountain in the world,
scraping me up against jagged rock and ice as my extremities freeze. She fucks me
high in the clouds, laughing as I gasp for breath in the thin, freezing air. She
fucks me on the plains of Africa, daring the hungry lions around us to take her on.
She fucks me in the ruins of Cleveland - still a dead city three years on from her
most infamous rampage - giving me a blow-by-blow of the massacre as she takes me
deep inside her.
“Why?” The new me asks, without judgment. I’m horrified at the devastation and her
detailed descriptions of death, but he just wants to find out more about the woman
he loves.
“This is where I came from,” she says. “Let’s just say my high school reunion got
nasty.”
Her appetite for using and abusing me is boundless. I receive no pleasure from our
coupling, just the bizarre sensation of semen dribbling out of my dick when she
deigns to relieve the pressure on my bright blue balls. The simpering new me
doesn’t care: he loves the way she treats him and affirms his undying love for her
at every opportunity. Valeria laps it up.
When Valeria is done with me for the day, Cassandra repairs my injuries with her
healing mist. There are always injuries: sex with Valeria is like being fucked by a
runaway freight train.
In my spare time, I exercise to increase my strength, stamina, and flexibility.
Cassandra implants artificial enhancements into my body, boosting my strength and
durability far beyond the human norm. I’m nowhere near Valeria’s level, but I’m
superhuman enough that she doesn’t need to hold back for fear of killing me
outright. Cassandra tweaks my personality, making me hunger for Valeria’s body,
arousal, and approval. The other me is upset to the point of trauma when he’s not
making love to Valeria. Cassandra uploads the knowledge and techniques of the
world’s greatest lovers, all the better to serve as Valeria’s sex stallion.
“You’re clay in my hands,” says Cassandra. “I’m sculpting you to Valeria’s
specifications for a perfect mate. I can’t imagine how helpless you must feel. Are
you still sane in there, I wonder?”
I am, but barely.

Five: Deja Vu

“We’re getting married,” says Valeria.

“How wonderful,” I respond.
I don’t see the point. I’m not going anywhere, and the new me loves, honors, and
obeys Valeria without question. Besides, I’m gun-shy about the idea of a wedding.
That’s how this whole thing started.
*****
I don’t get a bachelor party. The new me has no friends and no purpose in life
other than to give his mistress as many mind-shattering orgasms as she demands.
Her bachelorette party is an airborne pub-crawl composed of the most vicious and
powerful super-villainesses in the world: Valeria’s bridesmaids. In defiance of
tradition, Valeria brings me along. I’m naked but for a smooth collar and leash, so
the other woman can admire Cassandra’s handiwork.
They hit New Orleans like a hurricane. Our first stop is the taproom at a small
craft brewery. The place isn’t packed, but it’s busy enough for what happens to
qualify as a massacre.
The customers stare at the women in skintight costumes and the naked man on a
leash. One of the bartenders opens his mouth, but Valeria drills a pair of holes
through his skull with heat vision before any words come out.
The bar erupts into a cacophony of panicked screams. A tall man tries to shove past
Shockwave to reach the exit and she literally tears him in half. Sunstar takes
delight in burning a gaggle of college students to ash. Jackpot moves through the
bar like a blur, snapping the necks of her victims like twigs. Piledriver smashes a
hipster’s face against the reclaimed wood bar until there’s not much left of
either.
When the sounds of breaking bones and disintegrating flesh die down, Valeria pushes
me towards the bar. “Pour us some beers, betrothed. Killing is thirsty work.”
While I pour, she wipes the beer list from the big chalkboard behind the bar. She
replaces it with a tally of victims for each of the superwomen. “Friendly
competition: whoever kills the most tonight will be my maid of honor.”
“Game on,” says Shockwave.
I step over corpses and pour beers. Internally, I’m horrified, but the man in
charge of my body thinks everything is wonderful. He has a simple outlook: if
Valeria does something, it’s good. If Valeria doesn’t like something, it’s bad.
A small fleet of police cruisers screams to a stop outside the tap room. Not one of
the officers makes it more than a few feet from their vehicles. The bridal party
takes the maid of honor competition very seriously.
*****
The party leaves the taproom in ruins and moves to a Bourbon Street strip club.
Valeria throws two burly bouncers across the bar and disintegrates them with her
heat vision to get everyone’s attention.
“Dancers,” she shouts. “Leave now. Everyone else, stay put.”
It’s early and the club is quiet - barely a dozen customers in total. A fat man in
a tee-shirt with the slogan ‘I’m Not As Think As You Drunk I Am’ puts a hand on
Valeria’s chest. “Fuck off,” he says.
Valeria slices him into two neat halves, head to toe, with her heat vision. “The
rest of you, strip and line up. I want to see how well you fuckers dance.” She
turns to me. “Betrothed - get the drinks in.”
I make garish cocktails and frozen daiquiris for the superwomen as they force the
strip club customers onto the stage. They take turns choosing the songs, but they
judge the quality of the dancing together. The judgment is always the same: a
violent death.
When the last of the strip club patrons are flensed, dismembered, and
disintegrated, Valeria tallies up the death toll, and the party moves on to the
next venue.
A semi-legal nightclub in an almost-derelict office building provides some
amusement. The superwomen barricade the doors, pick their partners, and dance the
unlucky men and women to death. I keep their thirsts quenched with ice-cold bottles
of lite beer from a cooler in the back.
Valeria rips a beer cap off with her teeth and spits it across the room at
supersonic speed. It slices through the DJ’s jugular like a circular saw. “Shit.
Who knows how to work the music?”
Nobody volunteers to replace the dead DJ.
“Fuck ‘em,” says Valeria.
The bridal party slaughter the crowd in the space of a minute. A SWAT team burst
through the curtain-shrouded glass walls of the nightclub. They don’t survive more
than a few seconds, even with their heavy weapons and armor.
“Show of hands,” says Valeria. “Should we move on or wait for some superheroes to
show up?”
“I’m going to barf if anyone hits me,” says Piledriver.
“I’m just getting started,” says Sunstar. “I want to burn some heroes.”
“It’s not as much fun if they can fight back,” says Jackpot.
“All right,” says Valeria. “Grab as much booze as you can carry. We’re taking this
party back to the lair.”
She curls a finger in my direction. “Boy toy! Come to your beloved. She kisses me
and squeezes my ass hard enough to draw blood.
Shockwave pouts. “Not fair. I want a toy as well. Girl variety, though.”
Valeria nods. “We’ll route the scramjet through Vegas. Pick up some Australian
beefcakes and showgirls. How many are you going to need? Three each? A half dozen?”
The bachelorette party greets this with a ragged cheer.
*****
The morning of the wedding, I wake with a broken pelvis and a mind-crushing
hangover. A male stripper is in the bed with Valeria and me, but he’s been dead for
a couple of hours, at least. The events of the previous night flash through my mind
in snippets of sex, booze, and violence.
Valeria soars out of bed and flies around the room like a demented eagle. “I’m
getting married!” She soars away.
I crawl to Cassandra’s medical lab. The other me wants to be able to stand at the
altar without embarrassing Valeria, and he can’t do that without a dose of healing
mist. The corridors of the lair are scattered with the dead, battered bodies of
attractive men and women. A mix of relief and guilt assails me as I give thanks for
Valeria having been sober enough to merely cripple me with sex.
Cassandra’s expression is sour. “Today’s the day.”
“Yes, Miss Cassandra. Could you please heal me?”
“I hate you so much.” Despite her jealousy, Cassandra heals me in time for the
ceremony. She knows better than to cross Valeria.
*****
The wedding is held in the largest room in Valeria’s lair: a wedge-shaped hall with
a curved wall of windows looking out onto the mountain range. The guest list is a
who’s who of supervillainy. I recognize most of the faces - or gaping maws of
writhing tentacles where the face should be - from the news. The only ones missing
are those who’ve pledged blood feud with Valeria or are committed to the
extermination of all human and/or organic life. Also, Dr. Nemesis wasn’t invited,
because he’s a jerk.
I stand proudly before the assembly of fiends in a black bow tie and nothing else.
The abbot of the closest monastery has agreed to perform the ceremony in return for
his monks not being torn apart and fed to the yetis. He fidgets with his saffron
robes. If he’s worried Valeria won’t keep her word, it’s with good reason. In place
of a best man, I have Cassandra, who looks dashing in a black tuxedo and silver
waistcoat.
The bridal party sweeps into the room, accompanied by the strains of Total Eclipse
of the Heart played on harp. Valeria is stunning in a skintight, white latex mini-
dress. She floats down the aisle, the heels of her patent-leather boots barely an
inch above the floor. Behind, carrying a long train of ivory silk, come the
hungover villainesses in gaudy turquoise frocks, led by Jackpot, the winner of the
maid of honor carnage stakes.
Valeria’s face is a symphony of joy and I feel a momentary surge of affection for
her. The new me continues to feel the love, while the rest of sinks into a pit of
anger and despair. Valeria and I hold hands and gaze into each other’s eyes until
the rest of the world is of no consequence.
I don’t pay much attention to the ceremony, but I’m about to say “I do,” when the
first missile shatters the windows of the great hall.
Shockwave takes the first hit, which sends her flying through the flower
arrangements. More ordinance follows and in a matter of seconds, the wedding
becomes an inferno of fire and shrapnel. Valeria shields me with her invulnerable
body, but her wedding dress and boots are in tatters.
The villains who depend on force fields or other defenses that aren’t “always on”
fall to the initial bombardment. The rest pick themselves up, but the squadron of
black helicopters hovering outside the lair soar out of harms way before they can
return fire. Behind the helicopters comes a horde of superheroes. They swoop in
through the smashed windows and engage the remaining villains.
“Cassie,” says Valeria, “prep the scramjet.”
Cassandra disappears in a blip of white light.
Valeria tucks me under one arm and flies in the opposite direction to the confusion
of swinging fists and crackling blasts of energy that used to be her wedding
ceremony.
“Why are we running?” I ask. “You’re invincible.” It’s kind of sweet the new me
can’t imagine a challenge too big for his beloved to face down.
“Almost invincible,” says Valeria. “An important distinction when the odds are
against you. Besides, I don’t want you getting hurt in the crossfire.”
We rendezvous with Cassandra at the hangar. She’s refueling the scramjet and
powering up the avionics.
“How long?” asks Valeria.
“Half a minute.”
“Good. I’ll fly ahead with him, and you can follow in the scramjet.”
Cassandra nods. “Where are we going? If this lair is blown, the others will be as
well.”
“Gamma base should be clean.”
Before we can go anywhere, the huge steel door folds back on itself with an ear-
splitting screech of tearing metal. A woman in a red and white leather catsuit
soars through the gap and decks Valeria with a right hook. Valeria carves a deep
dent in the wall where she hits.
It takes me a moment to recognize the unfamiliar new superwoman. It’s my former
fiancée: Janice.
*****
The aversion therapy has enough of a hold on me I recoil at the sight of Janice.
“The angry bride.” Valeria picks herself up and fires a ferocious blast of heat
vision. The fiery beams burn through the leather suit, but Janice’s skin absorbs
the rest of the energy without apparent damage. “Come to avenge your ruined
wedding?”
Cassandra shakes her head. “You really have a specific type. Have you ever dated a
woman who didn’t have superpowers?”
Valeria and Janice fight in a blur of super-fast blows and coruscating energy
beams. Janice fires green bolts from her fists that appear just as powerful as
Valeria’s heat vision. They’re well-matched. I had no idea Janice was super, let
alone that she could go toe-to-toe with a Class-A like Valeria.
“Or are you just here for the runaway groom?” asks Valeria.
Janice laughs and pummels Valeria with a tsunami of blows. “I couldn’t care less
about that moron. We were just using him to get to you and your pals.”
The punchline of the joke that is my life: Janice never loved me. Three years ago,
I fell for the wrong girl and nothing has gone right for me since. I thought Janice
was the right girl - at long last - but it was a setup. The Feds must have leaked
the location of the wedding and Valeria took the bait. One of the fiends on today’s
guest list either sold Valeria out or got sloppy, now she and her cohorts are on
their way to UltraMax.
“You played me?” asks Valeria.
“Like a Casio keyboard.”
Valeria’s shoulders slump - I’ve never seen her look so dejected. She’s evil
incarnate, but she loves me. Janice is some kind of superhero, I guess. I loved
her, but I was just a means to an end. I’m not sure who I hate more.
Janice takes full advantage of Valeria’s low morale. Her fists glow bright green as
she beats Valeria down against the concrete floor. My latest bride-to-be slumps
into unconsciousness.
“No!” I beat my fists against Janice, but I might as well be trying to break into
a bank vault with a teaspoon. “Leave her alone.”
Janice holds me by the throat and dangles me before Cassandra. “What the hell did
you do to him?”
“Brainwipe. Replaced his old personality with an obedient sex toy designed to be
the perfect lover for a superwoman.”
Janice runs her eyes over my taut, strong body. “He looks good.” There’s a hunger
in her look I don’t like. “For her?” She nods toward Valeria’s slumped form.
“Yes.”
“Can you change the programming?”
I batter against my mental restraints as never before. Cassandra is the only one
who knows I’m trapped in here. This may be my only chance to escape.
“What do you want him to do, and what will you do for me in return?”
Cassandra’s not going to give up her bargaining chip. I can’t force even the
slightest sound from my mouth, let alone a plea for help. I want to scream at her
the old me is still alive in here, but my mouth pays no attention.
“It would be nice to have something around to take the edge off after a hard day of
superheroing. Make him my toy instead of hers.”
“Keep me out of UltraMax and I’ll have him purring to please you in a few hours.”
Cassandra looks me straight in the eye. “He likes it rough, by the way, so don’t go
easy on him.”
End Notes

Breaking the Groom is one of the first stories of erotic super-powered femdom I
wrote and published back in 2015. Apart from copy-edits, the text is the same as
the original.

I hope you enjoyed the combination of superpowers and female domination in this
story. Please consider adding a brief review. If you have feedback you would like
to share or would like to be informed when I release a new story, email me at
gsavidge@castempress.com.

If you liked this book, why not try Breaking the Villain or Breaking the Hero?
Available at Smashwords.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/901239
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/901899